alphabet meme

Tagged once again by Katie Schwartz. I never was good at tag. I'm always "it." I notice she and some others skipped some letters. I have more scruples so you get all 26.

A- Available or Single
One can be available without being single.

B- Best Friend
T, from whom I have tried to hide the existence of this blog.

C- Cake or Pie
Pie, specifically apple.

D- Drink of Choice
Espresso.

E- Essential Item
Computer.

F- Favorite Color
Blue.

G- Gummi Bears or Worms
I hate gummi shit. How about some nice halvah?

H- Hometown
Da Bronx.

I- Indulgence
Sex blogging.

J- January or February
Hate ‘em both.

K- Kids
Yes, grown.

L- Life is incomplete without
Good sex and good food.

M- Marriage Date
1971, 1996.

N- Number of Siblings?
1, deceased.

O- Oranges or Apples?
Fresh/juice: oranges. Sauce/pastry: apples. But that’s like comparing apples and oranges.

P- Phobias/Fears
Disease.

Q- Favorite Quote
"The greatest thing you'll ever learn
Is just to love and be loved in return"
- eden ahbez

R- Reasons to smile
Happy endings, whether in a movie or a hand job.

S- Season
Depends where I’m living, but either spring or fall.

T- Tag Three People
I’m going to make this exercise self-tagging for those who are interested.

U- Unknown Fact About Me
I don’t think there are any of those left after the last few memes.

V- Vaginas?
I like 'em natural and bushy.

W- Worst Habit
Not admitting when I’m in a bad mood.

X- X-M or Sirius?
X-M, but I haven't shelled out for it yet.

Y- Your Favorite Foods
Ashkenazy Jew food – corned beef, pastrami, brisket, kreplach, kishke, matzo brei, sour pickles…

Z- Zodiac
Taurus

fleshbot

I first discovered there was such as thing as sex blogs through Fleshbot. Every week, Chelsea Girl or Jefferson posts excerpts from blogs based on a theme.

It's because of this that when I started writing stories it occured to me to put them on a blog. Since I started blogging, they've been very kind to me, including this week's round-up.

I still find the Fleshbot Round-up a great way to find new blogs. As a blogger, it's the best traffic driver around and I credit Fleshbot for introducing hundreds, perhaps thousands, of people to my stories.

five facts

Preheated has dared me to state five facts about myself you wouldn't know by reading this blog. This will be challenging because I've already responded to similar tags for 5 things you don't know about me, six weird things about me, and my top 5.

What facts that haven't already been published am I willing to share? I think I'll stick to blogging and bloggers:

1. I used to be one of those who was skeptical about blogging. "What a waste of time." "An outlet for wannabes who can't really write." Instead, I've found a rich community of interesting, and often talented, people who blog about sex, life and politics.
   
2. I have a "vanilla" blog under my real identity. There are some people who read both my sex blogs and my vanilla blog. You can try to guess who you are and who I am, but I will not respond to such queries.
3. I have photo blogs under yet another identity. I know some people read this one and those, but am not aware of anyone who reads blogs under all three identities.
   
4. I monitor about 60 blogs*. Most of them are sex blogs. Between the sexy writing and the pix, I no longer desire paid pornography.
5. Most of my stories are pure fiction, but I've mixed in some based on truth. I don't have that many real-life experiences that would be compelling enough for stories, so I hope the fantasies keep coming to me. So far not a problem -- I have more ideas than time to write. And I'm hoping one day an idea will be expansive enough to turn into a novel.

*I love feedblitz -- it sends me a daily email with new posts from all the blogs I'm interested in.

don't be alarmed

This one was forwarded to me just after I endured ten minutes of an alarm sounding on a car that was not being tampered with...

if food be the music of love, eat on

If you've read my story Home Cooking, you know I have a thing about food and sex, although I've never pulled a Costanza.

And I know I'm not alone...

Order champagne, and strawberries and hot, liquid chocolate. Dip two strawberries in the chocolate, eat one and feed me the other. Then dribble the hot molten chocolate around my nipple, and lick it lasciviously — before taking a healthy nip as I shriek with pleasure. Pour me a glass of champagne, and watch me drink it — and then, when it’s your turn to imbibe, use me as your champagne flute.

- Juno Henry

Damn hot, Juno!

Well, this piece on Atom Films also got me going ...

tmi tuesday #75

I've decided to participate in TMI Tuesday when in the mood, so here goes...


1. When you are out in public, do you often get hard/get wet?

Rarely. As much as I enjoy a good visual, it takes more direct stimulation these days to effect a physical transformation.

2. When you masturbate, how long, typically, is your session and what do you think about (other than having an orgasm)?

Five minutes. I have a variety of specific fantasies, some of which have turned into stories. Eventually all will get written up.

3. What is your most pleasurable intercourse position?

Doggie.

4. How often do you use the word "fuck" (or its derivatives) in casual conversation - frequently, occasionally, rarely, never.

At least daily.

5. Have you ever had a spontaneous orgasm? How when why where?

Is that like spontaneous human combustion? Never.

nsa

This, like most w4m listings on Craigslist, is likely a link to a friendfinder type site, or a webcam site, or something similar.

What struck me about this was the request for an NSA encounter with No Strings Attached. Well, since, NSA in this context usually means no strings attached, I wondered what the writer has in mind...

National Security Agency? Very uncloak and dagger.
National Softball Association? Can I get to third base?
National Speakers Association? Four score and seven lays ago...
National Society of Accountants? I left the money in a plain envelope on the dresser.
National Sheriff's Association? Hey, you said you weren't L.E.!!!!!

For the record, the writer is likely a man named Duayne sitting in a cubicle in Fort Lauderdale.

i just love contests!

You may remember a few months ago, I won Desireous's contest to create a story around one of the gifts she sells with this entry.

Inspired by my success, I entered Dirty Little Girl's Valentine's Day Contest to write a fantasy about her, incorporating some filthy search terms that led people to her blog. Well, I'm a wiener again! And I got a great prize.

Read the winning entry and a smoking post about how she made my prize here!

Thanks, DLG, you sure are luscious!

Part of my prize.
You'll never see the rest.

a special day for men

Mark your calendars: March 14 is Steak & Blow Job Day.

From the web site:

It’s March 14th
You know what that means
I’ll gobble your knob
And juggle your beans
Now eat your steak
Like a good little chum
And when you’re all finished
I’ll swallow your cum!

Love me tender
Love me sweet
On March 14th
It’s all about your meat!

trash is as trash does

Recently I attended a sex show. This wasn't a demonstration of sexual acts in a cabaret. Instead, it was like a trade show, but for consumers, in a convention center. The picture on the right sums up my reaction to what I saw.

There were a few truly sexy aspects, such as the feather dancer pictured below. But overall there was little eroticism to be found.


On stage:




Non-piercing Jewelry:




A little disposable vibrator; versions for men and women:


Drink up and you'll get it up, I guess:


Ladies of Porno Pro Wrestling:


Invitations:

chatting

I can't take credit for this. Someone sent it to me years ago.

* * *

Wellhung: Hello, Sweetheart. What do you look like?

Sweetheart: I am wearing a red silk blouse, a miniskirt and high heels. I work out every day, I'm toned and perfect. My measurements are 36-24-36. What do you look like?

Wellhung: I'm 6'3" and about 250 pounds.I wear glasses and I have on a pair of blue sweat pants I just bought from Walmart.I'm also wearing a T-shirt with a few spots of barbecue sauce on it from dinner...it smells funny.

Sweetheart: I want you.Would you like to screw me?

Wellhung: OK

Sweetheart: We're in my bedroom.There's soft music playing on the stereo and candles on my dresser and night table.I'm looking up into your eyes, smiling. My hand works its way down to your crotch and begins to fondle your huge, swelling bulge.

Wellhung:I'm gulping, I'm beginning to sweat.

Sweetheart: I'm pulling up your shirt and kissing your chest.

Wellhung: Now I'm unbuttoning your blouse.My hands are trembling.

Sweetheart: I'm moaning softly.

Wellhung: I'm taking hold of your blouse and sliding it off slowly.

Sweetheart: I'm throwing my head back in pleasure.The cool silk slides off my warm skin.I'm rubbing your bulge faster, pulling and rubbing.

Wellhung: My hand suddenly jerks spastically and accidentally rips a hole in your blouse.I'm sorry.

Sweetheart: That's OK, it wasn't really too expensive.

Wellhung:I'll pay for it.

Sweetheart: Don't worry about it.I'm wearing a lacy black bra.My soft breasts are rising and falling, as I breath harder and harder.

Wellhung: I'm fumbling with the clasp on your bra.I think it's stuck. Do you have any scissors?

Sweetheart: I take your hand and kiss it softly.I'm reaching back undoing the clasp. The bra slides off my body. The air caresses my breasts. My nipples are erect for you.

Wellhung: How did you do that? I'm picking up the bra and inspecting the clasp.

Sweetheart: I'm arching my back. Oh baby. I just want to feel your tongue all over me.

Wellhung: I'm dropping the bra. Now I'm licking your, you know, breasts. They're neat!

Sweetheart: I'm running my fingers through your hair. Now I'm nibbling your ear.

Wellhung: I suddenly sneeze. Your breasts are covered with spit and phlegm.

Sweetheart: What?

Wellhung: I'm so sorry. Really.

Sweetheart: I'm wiping your phlegm off my breasts with the remains of my blouse.

Wellhung: I'm taking the sopping wet blouse from you. I drop it with a plop.

Sweetheart: OK. I'm pulling your sweat pants down and rubbing your hard tool.

Wellhung: I'm screaming like a woman. Your hands are cold! Yeeee!

Sweetheart: I'm pulling up my miniskirt. Take off my panties.

Wellhung:I'm pulling off your panties. My tongue is going all over, in and out nibbling on you...umm... wait a minute.

Sweetheart: What's the matter?

Wellhung: I've got a pubic hair caught in my throat. I'm choking.

Sweetheart: Are you OK?

Wellhung:I'm having a coughing fit. I'm turning all red.

Sweetheart: Can I help?

Wellhung: I'm running to the kitchen, choking wildly. I'm fumbling through the cabinets, looking for a cup. Where do you keep your cups?

Sweetheart: In the cabinet to the right of the sink.

Wellhung: I'm drinking a cup of water. There, that's better.

Sweetheart: Come back to me, lover.

Wellhung: I'm washing the cup now.

Sweetheart: I'm on the bed arching for you.

Wellhung:I'm drying the cup. Now I'm putting it back in the cabinet. And now I'm walking back to the bedroom. Wait, it's dark, I'm lost. Where's the bedroom?

Sweetheart: Last door on the left at the end of the hall.

Wellhung: I found it.

Sweetheart: I'm tuggin' off your pants. I'm moaning. I want you so badly.

Wellhung: Me too.

Sweetheart: Your pants are off. I kiss you passionately-our naked bodies pressing each other.

Wellhung: Your face is pushing my glasses into my face. It hurts.

Sweetheart: Why don't you take off your glasses?

Wellhung: OK, but I can't see very well without them. I place the glasses on the night table.

Sweetheart: I'm bending over the bed. Give it to me, baby!

Wellhung: I have to pee. I'm fumbling my way blindly across the room and toward the bathroom.

Sweetheart: Hurry back, lover.

Wellhung: I find the bathroom and it's dark. I'm feeling around for the toilet. I lift the lid.

Sweetheart: I'm waiting eagerly for your return.

Wellhung: I'm done going. I'm feeling around for the flush handle, but I can't find it. Uh-oh!

Sweetheart: What's the matter now?

Wellhung:I've realized that I've peed into your laundry hamper. Sorry again. I'm walking back to the bedroom now, blindly feeling my way.

Sweetheart: Mmm, yes. Come on.

Wellhung: OK, now I'm going to put my...you know ...thing...in your...you know...woman's thing.

Sweetheart: Yes! Do it, baby! Do it!

Wellhung: I'm touching your smooth butt. It feels so nice. I kiss your neck. Umm, I'm having a little trouble here.

Sweetheart: I'm moving my ass back and forth, moaning. I can't stand it another second! Slide in! Screw me now!

Wellhung: I'm flaccid.

Sweetheart:What?

Wellhung: I'm limp. I can't sustain an erection.

Sweetheart:I'm standing up and turning around; an incredulous look on my face.

Wellhung: I'm shrugging with a sad look on my face, my weiner all floppy. I'm going to get my glasses and see what's wrong.

Sweetheart: No, never mind. I'm getting dressed. I'm putting on my underwear. Now I'm putting on my wet nasty blouse.

Wellhung: No wait! Now I'm squinting, trying to find the night table. I'm feeling along the dresser, knocking over cans of hair spray, picture frames and your candles.

Sweetheart: I'm buttoning my blouse. Now I'm putting on my shoes.

Wellhung:I've found my glasses. I'm putting them on. My God! One of our candles fell on the curtain. The curtain is on fire! I'm pointing at it, a shocked look on my face.

Sweetheart: Go to hell. I'm logging off, you loser!

Wellhung: Now the carpet is on fire! Oh noooo!

Sweetheart: (logged off)

joke time II

So it seems this penguin was driving through a small town when his car broke down. He called AAA, and his car was towed to a local garage where the mechanic told him he would need a couple of hours to check out the problem.

The penguin wasn't in any particular hurry, so he wandered off to look around.

Entering a local supermarket, he bought some fish sticks and some vanilla ice cream for lunch, and then hung out in the frozen foods section until it was time to return to the garage.

The mechanic, seeing him enter the garage, came over, wiping his hands on a rag and shaking his head, saying, "It looks like you blew a seal." Blushing, the penguin quickly wiped his bill with his flippers, and replied, "Oh no! It's just ice cream!"

* * *

An Italian, A frenchman and an Australian are discussing their relative performance in bed.

The Italian says "When I've a finisheda makina da love with my girlfriend I go down and gently tickle the back of her knees, she floatsa da 6 inches above da bed in ecstacy".

The Frenchman replies "Zat is nothing. When ah 'ave finished making ze love with my girlfriend Ah kiss all ze way down her body an zen Ah lick zer soles of her feet wiz mah tongue and she floats ze 12 inches above ze bed in pure ecstacy".

The Aussie says "Strewth mate! thats nuthin, When I've finished shaggin my shiela, I get out of bed, walk over to the window and wipe my cock clean on the curtains and She hits the fucking roof!!!"

* * *

A woman says to her girlfriend, "My husband has dandruff."

"So give him Head and Shoulders," her friend answers.

"OK, how do I give Shoulders?"

* * *

A man in a nursing home takes up with one of the female inmates and works out a deal with her where he gets in bed with her each night and she holds his penis as they fall asleep. After several weeks of this, he dumps her for a new partner. The scorned woman questions him, "What's she got that I haven't got?"

The man replies, "Parkinson's".

joke time

There once was a woman who had gone a long time without so much as the hope of having a relationship. When she finally picked up a handsome looking guy and went out with him, her friends were naturally curious as to how it went.

``What's he like?'' said the woman's friend the day after the big event.

``Oh, he's fine, I guess. He's a musician, you know,'' said she. "But I don't think I'll be going out with him again.''

``Oh? Why not?'' asked the friend.

``Well, he plays the french horn, so I guess it's just habit, but every time we kiss, he sticks his fist in my ass!''

* * *

A man is out in the Chinese wilderness and he's hopelessly lost. It's been nearly three weeks since he's eaten anything besides what he could forage and he's been reduced to sleeping in caves and under trees.

One afternoon he comes upon an old mansion in the woods. It has vines covering most of it and the man can't see any other buildings in the area. However, he sees smoke coming out of the chimney.

He knocks on the door and an old man answers, with a beard almost down to the ground. The old man squints his eyes and says, "What you want?"

The man says, "I've been lost for the past three weeks and haven't had a decent meal or sleep since that time. I would be most gracious if I could have a meal and sleep in your house for tonight"

The old Chinese man says, "I let you in on condition: You no mess around with my grandaughter."

The man, exhausted and hungry readily agrees, saying, "I promise I won't cause you any trouble. I'll be on my way tomorrow morning."

The old Chinese man counters "Ok, but if I catch you, I give you three worst Chinese torture tests ever known."

"Ok, Ok." the man said as he entered the old house. Besides, he thought to himself, what kind of woman would live out in the wilderness all her life?

Well, that night, when the man came down to eat, he saw how beautiful the grandaughter was. She was an absolute pearl, and while he had only been lost three weeks, it had been many, many months without companionship. And the girl had only seen the occasional monk besides her grandfather and well, they both couldn't keep their eyes off each other throughout the meal.

That night, the man snuck into the girls' bedroom and they had quite a time, but had kept the noise down to a minimum. The man crept back to his room later that night thinking to himself, "Any three torture tests would be worth it after that experience."

Well, the next morning the man awoke to a heavy weight on his chest. He opened his eyes and there was this huge rock on his chest. On the rock was a sign saying, "1st Chinese torture test: 100 lb rock on chest."

"What a lame torture test." the man thought to himself as he got up and walked over to the window. He opened the shutter and threw the rock out. On the backside of the rock was another sign saying, "2nd worst Chinese torture test: Rock tied to right testicle".

The man, seeing the rock was too far out the window to be grabbed, jumps out the window after the rock. Outside the window is a third sign saying, "3rd worst Chinese torture test: Left testicle tied to bedpost."

* * *

When the mother asked her little girl what she wanted for her birthday, she said she wanted a Barbie doll and GI Joe doll. The mother smiled and said, "But honey, Barbie comes with Ken."

The little girl looked at her mother and replied, "No Mommy, Barbie fakes it with Ken, she comes with GI Joe."