I’m trying to figure out how to write fantasy stories. DirtyTalkingGirl at Pussy Talk does it so wonderfully well. Inspired by her almost plaintive fantasy about wanting masturbating while her partner just watches (she says he always just takes over) I thought I’d try reversing the roles.

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Figleaf and Peach: attempted submission

This is not a story about abuse. Let’s just say we agreed to wrestle to see whether you were going to eat me or I was going to get to masturbate, for once, while you watched. :-) Not as crazy as it sounds — I really like all kinds of sex, but masturbating is sex too. Some people (ok, just one) can make love so often that after our week-long I’d love a chance to masturbate in peace so… :-) So we agreed to wrestle. If you won we’d do whatever you wanted, maybe more than once. If I won I’d get to do what I wanted. If either of us really wanted to stop we’d say uncle.

It wasn’t at all a fair match.

I’m bigger and quite strong but you’re no pushover (no kickboxing, please!) and you’d just come in from sunbathing in the privacy of the garden behind our summer cottage so you were slippery with an almost impossible-to-hold mix of oil and sweat. You could easily slip out of almost any hold I tried, plus (imp!) there weren’t many ways I can try to pin you without you getting exactly what you want anyway – a fact both of us know only too well! :-)

You would have left me too winded to resist, tortoise-ing past my hare, if I hadn’t finally had sense enough to grab the tie from my robe. The cotton flannel robe with the soft fat flannel tie I often wear at home when I’m up early or late. Hey, turns out flannel just soaks up oil and the little fibers have just enough grab to hold in place. I was never a boy-scout (or a wrestler, obviously) and it took a while to get the first loop around your ankle, but by then you were just a bit more distracted by giggles than I was so I was able to loop a wrist too. After that it was all over but the singing. I don’t know if I’d do this again, and I’m really not sure you would. And you hadn’t gotten a devilish glint and said “I bet I can get you to fuck me anyway” I’d have been the one to call it off but a challenge is a challenge and (dang it all!) I felt too stubborn to back down. Especially since you kept making erotic threats/promises and wriggling provocatively.

It’s probably the only way you’d let me and the only way I’d try, but that’s* how you managed to get there, kneeling between my knees and complaining about your lonely taunted lips as I stop lightly stroking myself and begin in earnest.

Taunted lips? How about taunting lips? You know damn well it would kill me to have you so near without letting you touch me. As I start to get close coming you coyly ask “wouldn’t you like to come in my mouth? Just aim here” and then you open your mouth and slip the tip of your softened tongue out. Wow, that would be nice I think, giving in. Just when I start to come you surge forward and, tied hand and foot or not, you totally defeat me. Instead of crying “oh, oh, oh” I come panting “Uncle! Uncle! Oh wow Peach! Mmm, oh, Uncle!”

So I watched the movie Laurel Canyon. It’s a pretty amazing reconstruction of what life was sort of like back in the early 70’s) and, if we’re to believe the movie, occasionally today in isolated pockets of the recording industry.)

There’s a couple of three-ways or near-three-ways in it, involving a woman (Francis McDormand!), her much younger rocker boyfriend, and her son’s surprisingly curious and willing girlfriend. In one of the movie turning points, when the son confronts his girlfriend, she says, probably very truthfully, “I don’t know why I did it, that’s not really me, I was just curious, I don’t want to be with them I want to be with you.” Or words to that effect.

And that’s had me sort of wondering about the difference betweeen lesbians and the ordinary sort of “bi-curious” situations usually represented in porn. I wonder how many guys differentiate between pictures of real lesbians having sex together and regular mainly hetero women? Perhaps because I knew a lot of lesbians in college, vs women who would occasionally or opportunistically swing both ways, I do care about the difference. I remember sometimes just wanting to bang my head in a door trying to get over a (literally) hopeless crush on this or that otherwise wonderful woman because she was exclusively lesbian. No matter how hard I tried she wasn’t about to even kiss a man.

So I’ve always enjoyed watching real lesbians together, but more because voyeurism is always fun, or because I always learn something new. But I’ve always tended to be more interested in sex between primarily bisexual women because from a fantasy standpoint the chances are just SO much higher that they’d invite me to jump in if I ever happened to walk in on them while they were busy. (That’s how, by the way, that I wound up in my only three-way, But that’s another story.)

There are two controversial sex-related phenomena that I don’t personall engage me nevertheless provoke me. One the controversy over legalizing prostitution in the U.S., the other is the controversy over women grooming and/or removing pubic hair. There are all kinds of reasons for legalizing prostitution. Shaving is purely personal. I personally don’t care if my partner does or doesn’t (though I tend to prefer neatly trimmed to either shaved or untouched.) But at least in our relationship she’s not the one who’s pressured to shave. I am!

A poster in an online forum said:

What saddens me is the thought … that a whole generation of guys have grown up without knowing what a real woman’s bush looks like.

As I think I’ve mentioned elsewhere, I think it’s fine to regret pubic hair styling as long as you equally regret other tampering with whatever it is that nature intended. Case in point:

I recently shaved my beard off. Of course it wasn’t a natural beard. I kept it neatly clipped, and to be perfectly honest, I still shaved outside the “goatee line” on a daily basis.

Like many (most?) women my partner has an aversion to kissing men who don’t keep themselves neatly groomed Since she was out of town last week I took the opportunity to start growing it back.

Soon after she returned she asked me to shave again, claiming I look better with a bare chin and lips — especially since I’ve lost weight.

Shaving your face is a major pain in the ass. Sometimes it hurts. It’s never convenient. Depilatories contain harsh chemicals that can burn your skin. Waxing the face and “mustache area” hurts like hell, if you can find anyone willing to do it in the first place (waxing your face is considered too risque.) If you stop shaving every day you start looking scruffy, and that can lead embarrassment in social and workplace situations.

The saddest thing is that the very few men with natural facial are thought old fashioned, eccentric, or unkempt. A whole generation of women have grown up without knowing what a real man’s “bush” looks like. If I never shaved the only place I’d be able to start dating again without seeming weird would be maybe a Mennonite community.

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And my point would be?

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Don’t get me wrong. I agree that it’s a shame if women feel obliged to style yet another part of their bodies. It’s an even greater shame if their partners expect them to or think them weird for not doing so.

But it’s not like the precident hasn’t already been set.

figleaf

Non-salatious Sunday blogging

Not to sound too thick or anything, but why spend more than a minute pining for someone under 18 with something like 1,900,000,000 women in the world over eighteen — shockingly impractical numbers of whom are wonderfully attractive?

Yes, an 18th birthday is a semi-arbitrary age. Yes, pedophiles and ephebophiles argue that Romeo’s Julie was only 12 (though the don’t mention she also committed suicide the same year because her immaturity kept her from managing her romantic and physical entanglement.) And yes, many people are biologically and emotionally ready either before 18, or are still unready after. Nevertheless, by law and convention 18 it is.

Especially since it’s just a matter of time before anyone you’re that excited about is going to turn 18 anyway?

Note: I raise this in the context of under- and of-age women because I’ve been getting another raft of porn-related spam inviting me to see “barely legal” teenage women. The point applies equally to “barely legal” and older men as well — of whom there are also roughl 1,900,000,000 walking around the world at any given moment, again an impractically large number are going to be attractive, attentive, considerate, and single. Romeo fared no better than Juliet.

Update: I reposted this because the old entry kept insisting it was published May 18th. Sorry if this breaks anyone’s links.

Sarong Party Girl has something interesting to say about masturbation.

I’ve no idea how it is with men. They don’t seem to prefer masturbation to sex; I won’t say I do, but I won’t say I like sex more then masturbation either. They’re both important, and I cannot do without either for even too short a time.

Funny about that perspective. Long ago. Decades ago, before I’d ever had sex and almost before I was sure what it was I started learning from a small library of fairly dry sexology books my folks kept hidden — probably where we’d find them and hopefully learn something. (Any time they tried to tell us anything we’d just saw “ewwww!!!”)

The downside was that a lot of what everybody knew back then was wrong. Or, probably more accurately, incomplete and misconceived. Always a voracious reader, and motivated by emerging hormones, I learned an awful lot in a very short time. And have been unlearning things ever since.

One thing that really stuck with me was the authortative assertion that women can have much better orgasms through masturbation than intercourse while for men it’s the opposite.

Screwed me up for years, Doc. Also at least half wrong.

One of my fallacies that I can’t really blame on the author is that my masturbatory orgasms therefore weren’t “worth” as much. Another fallacy, equally mine and not the authors, was that if I could learn to give women orgasms as good as they could give themselves that I would therefore be a good lover.

The fact is, though, that objectively I can almost always give myself much better orgasms than a partner almost ever can. The fact is, though, that orgasms aren’t the reason I like to have sex.

I can dance better by myself too. I’ve never lost a chess matches when playing against myself (the only time I win!) My batting percentage is way higher with a fungo bat than when someone else is pitching. And I sure as hell win a lot more arguments when I’m alone. But dancing, chess, sports, and even debate are about more than winning. They’re about human contact, just like sex.

As Party Girl says, “I won’t say I like sex more then masturbation either. They’re both important, and I cannot do without either for even too short a time.” Me either!

“How am I every going to let anyone let me chain them up, blindfold them and drip hot wax on them now?”

Smile sweetly and say please? :-)

Actually if I were going to really get into topping I think I’d go for the “more in sorrow than in anger, this hurts me more than it does you, I know it hurts and I’m sorry but you really did forget to count so we’ll have to start over” approach. With soft-looking but potentially wicked rubber-band-powered wooden nipple clamps, natural herb-dyed hand-braided silk ropes, fresh nettles instead of hot wax, rose and acacia thorns for piercing and scratching, and birch twigs soaked in spring water.

Hmm. Or maybe not. But you have to admit that way would be more perverse than the overused black leather and chains routine. :-)

Anybody you know own a Sybian – for Women? If you’re not sure what they are Google can tell you all, or more than, you want to know about them.

For roughly $1,500 one can be yours.

Not to sound like a cheapskate or anything, but has anyone ever tried riding one of those old 40’s era “space-age” floor-model canister-style vacuum cleaners? They get cosy warm, they vibrate like mad, you can sit on them and slide around on the carpet, and they cost closer to $14.00 (thrift shop) than $1440.

No, you don’t have what admittedly appears to be a lot of careful engineering. No, it doesn’t have remote control. No, it doesn’t have highly anatomically correct attachments that move with a gentle stirring motion. But what do you expect with a 99% discount?

Add a nice dildo with a suction-cup base if you like, invite a willing volunteer onboard, and at least get proof-of-concept before plunking down the big bucks.

Here’s an interesting example of Icelandic humor:

Two different theories exist concerning the origin of children: the theory of sexual reproduction, and the theory of the stork. Many people believe in the theory of sexual reproduction because they have been taught this theory at school.

In reality, however, many of the world’s leading scientists are in favour of the theory of the stork. If the theory of sexual reproduction is taught in schools, it must only be taught as a theory and not as the truth. Alternative theories, such as the theory of the stork, must also be taught.

Evidence supporting the theory of the stork includes the following:

1. It is a scientifically established fact that the stork does exist. This can be confirmed by every ornithologist.

2. The alleged human foetal development contains several features that the theory of sexual reproduction is unable to explain.

3. The theory of sexual reproduction implies that a child is approximately nine months old at birth. This is an absurd claim. Everyone knows that a newborn child is newborn.

4. According to the theory of sexual reproduction, children are a result of sexual intercourse. There are, however, several well documented cases where sexual intercourse has not led to the birth of a child.

5. Statistical studies in the Netherlands have indicated a positive correlation between the birth rate and the number of storks. Both are decreasing.

6. The theory of the stork can be investigated by rigorous scientific methods. The only assumption involved is that children are delivered by the stork.

(Original version by Erkki Aalto, Dept. of Obstetrics, Gynaecology and
Stork Science, University of Helsinki)

(English version by Jopi Louko, Institute of Stork Research, University of
Alberta)

Via a Science Jokes page from somewhere in the Netherlands.

This would be a good time to think about the whole Red-state abstinence education business, which is sort of related to the storks-bring-babies joke.

It’s pretty clear that in Blue-states, or, more accurately, in places where comprehensive sex education is provided, rates of promiscuity, precocious sexual intercourse, venereal disease transmission, and unwanted/early pregnancy are much lower than in areas that take an abstinence-only approach.

The key question, though, is whether this is cause or effect? I don’t know. Intuition suggests that education makes a difference — I received very comprehensive sex ed (though church no less) and compared to our thoroughly red-state school-mates we didn’t have sex any more often but when we finally did we seemed to enjoy it more and we sure as hell got pregnant less frequently.

But was that a universal or local effect? The fact that our parents signed us up for classes developed by our comparatively progressive denomination, suggest we were already influenced by their values. Would a conservatively-raised kid from down the street have reacted the same way if invited to our program or would, as conservatives fear, it have the only further degenerated whatever passes for Red-inculcated moral restraint?

Funny thing about real life vs. porn though. When you’re faking it in real life (and I don’t mean “oh god, oh god, oh god! stuff by the way) you’re encouraging and synchronizing and, well, almost cheerleading your partner into a nicer experience — than if, say, you said “turn out the light when you’re done, hon, I’m going to sleep. :-) Plus unless he/she’s faking it too it’s not like your partner’s going to review video after to see if your skin’s really flushed and your eyes really closed.

When you fake it in porn you’re just, well, faking it. There’s nobody else around to impress so you ought only to do what actually feels good.

(Note: I tried an anti-depressant a couple of years ago and, like many people who take the things, I was faced with the fake-it-for-her-sake dilemma as often as not. Sex still really felt great but orgasms often weren’t in the cards. Most of the time when I couldn’t come I just didn’t come. Sometimes I did, since it distracted and bummed my partner out that I wasn’t. As I said earlier, I’d far prefer to have sex and not come than not have sex at all.)

Oh what’s the big fuss about occasionally faking orgasms? Haven’t any other guys ever faked it with a partner? Shit happens sometimes, why rain on her parade? Like an on-line acquaintance said, it’s not like sex is that much less enjoyable without having one. And I don’t mean orgasms aren’t great, trust me, I’d get cranky if I simply stopped having them.

But sex without orgasms isn’t even a little bit bad. I mean at least I wasn’t lying when I’ve told a partner that given a choice I’d rather just undress her, kiss her for hours, and eat her till her eyelids fluttered than doing nothing at all. And if I got to undress her, kiss her for hours, eat her till her eyelids fluttered, and then topped it off with a slow comfortable screw… well, it’s even nicer than staying home sorting socks.

And if every now and then I suspect she was faking I assume she wasn’t hating it. Instead I accept it quietly it as a complement and a favor I need to repay sometime. And when or if she catches me out she does the same for me.

I say this because I heard what my friend said about sex with her partner and believe her. It’s not stopping her, it wouldn’t stop me either.