how zep got me my first feel of tit

During my senior year of high school, I had a steady girlfriend who was a year behind me. She was gorgeous, with long black hair and a great figure. But when the school year ended, she gave me back my class ring and said she didn't want to go steady for the summer. I was crushed. We didn't see each other all summer, but stayed in touch. Back in the day, that meant by phone.

I lacked the confidence to approach girls at the beach or wherever, so there was no romantic action all summer. But nonetheless I had a good time, working as a messenger during the week, taking the bus to the beach on the weekend, hanging out with friends and smoking dope at night, listening to Hendrix, Cream, Led Zeppelin and Moby Grape alone in my room with headphones on.

During our year together, girlfriend and I had some nice makeout sessions, but anytime I tried to touch her breasts (and I definitely didn’t try touching certain other places), she gently pushed my hand away. I was so horny, I did anything I could to have (clothed) contact between my dick and her body. At seventeen, I was amazingly uninformed about sex; I just knew I had urges. I wasn’t even smart enough to figure out about masturbating, so consider how desperate I must have been! I actually orgasmed a couple of times during these sessions. I don’t remember the sensation, but just being aware that I had ejaculated and needed to do something about the sticky wetness in my pants.

In September of 1970, still seventeen, I started my freshman year of college. Now that I was a college man, my girlfriend was interested again. I was wary.

But Led Zeppelin was coming to town, so I bought tickets and on September 19, girlfriend and I went to Madison Square Garden. She wasn’t really a hard rock fan, but I think she found live Zep as mesmerizing as I did. As they launched into tunes from their second album such as Moby Dick and Whole Lotta Love, we launched into a serious makeout session.

I began caressing her breasts and she didn’t push my hand away. Was she really into it? Had her hormones kicked in? Or did she just think that she needed to “give” more now that I was in college? I’ll never know.

I slid my hand under her blouse and continued rubbing her tits over her bra. Eventually we returned our full attention to the music. It was a fantastic concert and included tunes from the third album, which was released the following month.

That was our last date. In November, I met a twenty-year-old college junior at a school event and all of a sudden, my sixteen-year-old girlfriend seemed very young. Before the year was out, I had made serious progress in my sexual education.

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?

Evidence of What?

Paying by the Inch

From a great blog, Not Always Right:

(I am selling a TV to a middle aged man and his wife.)

Me: “So it’s between the 32 and the 36 inch TV, right?”

Husband: “Yes, but I don’t understand the difference between them.”

Me: “Well, they have the same specs all the way down the line. One is just bigger.”

Husband: “Who in the hell would pay almost $350 more for four more inches?”

Wife: “I would!”

Merry Christmas from Hard & Fast

Happy Hanukkah!

From Fleshbot:

Tonight's the first night of Chanukah, and as Members of the Tribe everywhere know, it's not a Jewish holiday unless you're eating something. Latkes, doughnuts, pussy—as long as it's covered in oil, we'd like to eat it, please.

Don't Ask, Don't Tell

The recent news about Tiger Woods caused my wife and me to recall a pact we made early on in our marriage regarding possible infidelity: Don't Ask, Don't Tell.

We decided that if either of us should have sex outside of marriage, the other didn't want to know about it. We weren't putting a value judgment on it, or even saying we felt OK if the other had an affair. As a matter of fact, the reason for this agreement was the assumption that it wouldn't feel OK to the other partner. But unlike proponents of abstinence-only education, we are realistic enough to believe that knowing something is wrong doesn't prevent you from doing it.

Frankly, I don't believe that having sex outside of marriage is necessarily wrong. If it's a one-time thing, pleasurable, and done with a measure of safety, it's like having a nice dinner. But I don't want to have a picture in my mind of my wife doing it with someone else. I'd rather just not know.

So there are some requirements that go with this policy:

1. Practice safer sex. That is an absolute requirement which, if violated, would require disclosure to the spouse.
2. If you feel guilty, you must not let it show. It is your problem, and not one to be relieved by "confessing."
3. Be smart about concealing this activity as regards your voice and electronic communications.
4. Be smart about doing it in a way that won't raise suspicions or cause an innocent question that has a guilty reaction. Best solution is not to do it in your home town.
5. Realize that a one-nighter is one thing, an ongoing affair is another. The latter will likely be harmful to your marriage in one or more ways: An affair is a relationship that competes with your marriage for your emotional attention as well as time. It can affect your performance at work. And a lover spurned is likely to let your wife know, or broadcast the news via social media or by just telling a lot of people. (And it only gets worse if you're well-known!)

Even if you don't have an agreement with your spouse or partner, if you do have sex outside of your committed relationship and wish not to harm that relationship, these requirements still apply.

Louis Abolafia

Louis Abolafia was well known to New Yorkers in the late 1960s, an integral part of the New York and San Francisco hippie anti-war movements and general troublemaker.

He was a participant in the International Psychedelic Exposition, held in 1967. The catalog describes the exhibition as follows:

The purposes of the First International Psychedelic Exposition are manifold. On one level we hope to give the general public a glimpse of the psychedelic world and the beautiful creations it has inspired. On another level we hope that open and forthright exposition of psychedelic phenomena by the people it has inspired will facilitate communication between those who are somewhat fearful of the mind expansion experience and those who have had the experience and found a method to present what they found most worthwhile, be it through music, art, visual techniques, or group events."

The catalog also promoted "a common drug available to anyone with $5.00 to spare - lysergic acid diethylamide". Yes, LSD was then legal.

Louis Abolafia was the founder and father of the Exotic Erotic Ball. From its web site:

"Known as the King of Hippies and the man who coined the phrase "Make Love Not War," he felt nudity and love were better expressions than war and oppression. This couldn't be truer today, and so we continue to celebrate his dream with music, feasting, fun, nudity (or close to it) and love for all.

In the beginning there was Louis Abolafia and his good friend Perry Mann. They made their dwellings in the Land by the Bay. One day, Louis approached Perry and said: "I want to run for President. I will be the candidate from the Nudist Party. Will you help me do this?" Perry responded: "Please tell me, Louis, why is it that you wish to run for President under the Nudist Party?" Louis responded: "It is because I have absolutely nothing to hide." Perry smiled and said: "Then I will help you."

To help finance Louis' candidacy, Perry created an event that celebrated freedom, the right to choose, and the right to be as one chooses to be. This is widely known as freedom of expression. People came to the event Perry created in the land by the Bay to experience this freedom of expression, and they rejoiced. And the Exotic Erotic Ball was born."

The ball celebrates its 30th anniversary tomorrow, and I just wanted to remember Louis and his wonderful spirit.

Ah, the taste of Lysol!