Schools & Strip Clubs

A couple of interesting posts on Daily Dish recently about the educational pursuits of strippers.

My first strip club experience was at the RazzMaTazz is Seattle, where between ear-licking grindup dances, the young lady talked about the college courses she was taking.

Later, an older friend, whose strip club experience was of a different era, scoffed. But I figured it made sense to earn tuition and rent bucks this way -- part time, flexible hours, good pay.

My subsequent experience proved it true, as a good number of the ladies who have entertained me over the years were working toward their degrees. I'll admit it is surreal to alternate between intelligent conversation and having your hard-on worked over, but I like it.

Here are the posts: [1] [2]

It's Kinda Fun Being Orange

Why so many men in the New York area have orange dicks.

I'm a Peeping Tom

OK, I'm not looking into the girls' changing room like I got caught doing in summer camp at age 10. But what is a man doing on a blog tour for Fast Girls: Erotica for Women? It feels somewhat voyeuristic.

My qualifications? I've always had a sensitive side. I like to have my nipples sucked. More women than men are fans of my erotic stories. Oh hell, who needs to be qualified? I just wanted to read some hot stuff by and for women. Is that so wrong?

Rachel Kramer Bussel brings us another great compilation of short erotic fiction. These run the gamut from romantic to raw.

The first employs a standard fantasy: The housewife and the young gardener/pool guy/contractor. But when guys think about that one, it's all about them. In Temptation, Kayla Perrin has her young Miguel tell the woman, "Come in my mouth." That's a role reversal that even has me squirming happily.

In Five-Minute Porn Star, Jacqueline Applebee's couple rekindle their dormant love life by enacting another standard fantasy, the handyman and the housewife, with a pleasantly funny and happy ending.

Music and erotica form the focus of Waiting for Beethoven by Susie Hara, where the story within the story becomes...the story. And it is steaming hot.

One theme that runs though several stories is the older woman and younger man. In Let's Dance by D.L. King, she has a lot of fun playing nice games with the "cute boy." He's a good learner too.

A Lesbian bar in Provincetown is the starting point for Tristan Taormino's wrenching and lovely Winter Summer.

And now for my favorite passage. It's the opener for Married Life by Charlotte Stein:

I'm so horny I could fuck anything. That guy with the weird hair and the nervous hands - I could fuck him. I could fuck his peach-haired girlfriend, too. And is that his mother with them? Throw her in while you're at it.

From standard fantasies well explored to totally original and surprising plots, the twenty stories in Fast Girls were a pleasure - and I mean pleasure - to read.

Every Single (and Married) One

All men watch porn, scientists find

Venus deBooty

I don't watch a lot of tennis, but generally catch the last round or two of the majors. I admire Venus Williams as a player. But have to admit I also enjoy seeing her oft-erect nipples while playing. At the French open, she's done something to move our attention elsewhere.

Please, Sir

A number of years ago, I had the unique experience of a girlfriend saying to me, "I want to be your sex slave." I had never engaged in any BDSM. My sex life until then was pure vanilla. I am an ardent feminist who participated in the equal rights protest of August 26, 1970.

So the thought of physically subjugating a woman should have been troubling to me. Yet it wasn't. I guess the difference is that it was her choice. We proceeded to enjoy a couple of years of bondage, spanking, nipple clamps, rape scenarios and more. Eventually the relationship ended for the usual reasons.

I'm a guy who had never hit a woman. Hell, I've never hit a man. I am peaceful and mellow. Yet I took to this quite naturally. I called her horrible names, hit her face, breasts and butt, forced myself on her orally and otherwise. Kept her blindfolded and lashed to a beam in her garage while I waited and teased. She was scared. She cried. She came, powerfully. So did I for that matter. It's certainly made me think about the roles of men and women, the common unconscious and all that.

Rachel Kramer Bussel's collection, Please Sir, Erotic Stories of Female Submission, contains 22 stories by women. I love reading about submission from the woman's point of view. I don't know if voluntary female submission is more common than it once was, or if we're just in a more enlightened age when it's OK to write about it, and sometimes even OK to tell your friends. Either way, I am enjoying this collection because it gives me insights to how and why women want to submit, and it makes me hard as hell.

So while I think these stories were written primarily for women, I strongly encourage men to read them. Especially if you're BDSM-curious, or just intrigued. The stories are beautifully written (of course, Rachel selected them), funny at times and unvaryingly hot. Both through the stories themselves and the act of reading them and being aroused, you realize the power of the word, the idea to arouse the strongest desires a person can know.

Here are a few excerpts to whet your whistle, so to speak:

"I honestly feel like I might come right there in my mother's dining room in the soft glow of white Christmas lights under the sharp and critical gaze of distant relatives.The thought alone nearly trips me into orgasm."

"I wanted him to throw me down, ram his cock into me and fuck me hard, take full control of me, of him of -- everything."

"Enough suction? Too much in the way of teeth? You can tell her, you know. Whatever you want, she'll do it."

Follow the virtual book tour for Please Sir to see what others have to say here.

My Kind of Woman

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Phoning It In

I only tried paid phone sex once, many years ago. I didn't find it particularly interesting or satisfying, and I don't think it was the provider's fault. It just didn't work for me.

Some years after that during a period when I was occasionally forming a threesome with a married couple, one time I called the wife and she answered the phone while she and hubby were screwing, which they did every single day. She proceeded to describe what was going on and brought me into the room with them, virtually. That worked. I started masturbating and had a massive orgasm as did both of them, judging from the sounds they made.

Here is a great web piece on phone sex providers.

This Ad Got Me Laid

It was 1992, and back then the way personal ads worked in many places was that you could place the ad for free in the local weekly alternative papers, but to respond to the ad you had to call a 900 number, so it cost money. This was, for all practical purposes, before the internet.

I got two responses to this ad, and both resulted in sexual encounters. I've written about them here and here.

The bra saved my life!

Who's Moaning Now?

I love to watch hand job videos. I really am not a fan of the facial ending which seems so popular. What I like is a HJ taken to conclusion by the woman (in nearly all facials, the man takes over to finish himself off). I find it exciting for a woman to do a hand job to completion whether I'm experiencing it myself or watching on the computer (the former being preferable, of course). I love to see a volcanic eruption, the kind which I'm less capable of producing now that I'm older.

But I've noticed in most of these videos, the men are silent except for perhaps a throaty exhalation at the end, while the woman is moaning and chirping as if it were she receiving the stimulation. While I know a woman can get turned on by turning on her man, this over the top vocalization makes no sense at all, and causes me to turn off the sound. I understand verbal encouragement helps, but moaning like they do on these videos is just silly.

Glendale, Colorado, Home of The Best Chamber of Commerce Christmas Party Ever!

Glendale is a small enclave completely surrounded by Denver. Featured landmarks are the oldest building in greater Denver, a sports park that hosts professional rugby, a Super Target, two strip clubs and a sex products store.

The sports park includes a nice events center, and you'd think that might be a good place for the Glendale Chamber of Commerce to hold its annual Christmas party. But no. They have it in the VIP Lounge of the Penthouse Club.

Is that a bulge in your pants, Ryan, or are you just happy to be a Chamber member?