I went to the farmer’s market today to pick up fresh tomatoes. I have a picture of one, which is definitely NSFW. I put in a nice break for you.
Aug 302010
Aug 022010
I’m posting an excerpt from a project I’m working on. NSFW and all that, behind the cut.
Jul 122010
All genders are similarly gifted in the receiving end of anal sex. Men, however, have an advantage. Not only do they have a prostate–providing icing on the cake of penetration–but they have a a penetrating part with exquisite sensitivity that gives the owner a pleasure I will never experience.
I certainly can’t complain about using my hands. Fingers are long and flexible enough that two of them provide all the stimulation that most people desire. I’m fortunate in having small hands. With practice, I can slide a well-lubricated hand into a willing friend’s anal canal. Something entirely different from the force implied by the word “fisting” is required. It is delicacy. A fist is not inserted; it becomes. The thumb folds inside the fingers instead of outside, as for a punch.
Jul 052010
“Oh, ass—adored throne of lechers!”
-Paul Verlaine
Penises can be so uncooperative sometimes. They have their own agenda, dispensing pleasure and performance anxiety in equal measure.
The homely asshole, on the other hand, is much more accommodating. Given a gentle touch and enough lubrication, it will play for hours. Some small skill at pleasuring an asshole may put the owner in a state approaching orgasm and maintain that state indefinitely.
Anal sex is also dark, dirty, and a major hang-up for most people, if only when the head gets involved. It’s certainly not the sort of thing I plan for a first date.
Jun 282010
Sing to me, O Muse, of the delights of penetration, and the orifices that might be plundered. Many are the variations to visit in search of pleasure, and many are the manners and customs thereof. Tell me, too, of the secrets of buggery, O daughter of Jove, from whatever source you may know them. Continue reading »
Jun 212010
What we like is only one of the determinants of how we fuck. There’s a tremendous structure of social approval surrounding the ‘right’ kind of sex. I’ve been fortunate enough to avoid inculcation by many mainstream sexual attitudes. It wasn’t until about a week ago that I realized how I’d been infected by an entire other set of sex memes.
Don’t get me wrong; I’m glad I’m not a Cosmo Girl. I went and skimmed the current web issue of Cosmopolitan just to find out how lucky I am that, well, I don’t read Cosmopolitan. Except for research. As far as I can tell, Cosmo Girls are obsessed with getting men, keeping men, and trying not to get bored of the men they have. And shaving. This is female desire filtered through advertising, with extra pink.
As mentioned previously, my writing schedule is too tight this week to post another King-Sized Bed episode. However, I finished the project that is due tomorrow and just got back the proofreader notes, so it’s all in a good cause.
Today I’m posting a long scene from an unpublished work. It is surprising and very naughty. It’s also as unsafe for work as anything else I’ve posted here.
As mentioned previously, my writing schedule is too tight this week to post another King-Sized Bed episode.
Instead, I’m posting the first sex scene in my new novel, which is the sequel to Wishbone. As usual, this post is NSFW. Like Wishbone, this excerpt is male/male.
May 312010
I wasn’t always so good at communication.
Over twenty years ago, I had a brief, torrid affair with a young waif I met during college. He was so much fun to fuck, yet he came so quietly that I could never tell if he had or not. I could think of no good way to bring up the subject.
The words were obvious. Yet I could not get them over my tongue and past my teeth. There were other questions I didn’t ask, at least not in time. “What do you want?” would have been a good one. Our break-up was sudden and depressing. I wrote some bad poetry. Continue reading »
May 242010
Necessity is the mother of invention, but frustration benefits no one.
Due to medication, my mate’s erections are sometimes more torpid than turgid. Through patience and the liberal application of sensations, lubrication and firm hands, it is usually possible to summon a stiffie. But no technique is as important as consistency. He knew (and more importantly, his penis knew) that we’d be fucking every night. My hands, my mouth, and my pussy were always available. Thus he was perfectly happy to forbear from coming until we were together. His penis, no longer distracted by the differences between his hands and my parts, was much more responsive to my summoning spells.
Kneel to Me
Mate: And More Stories from the Erotic Edge of SF/Fantasy
Up for Grabs
Wired Hard 4
Wishbone