Here is a link to a blog I just discovered, SeXXXandPolitics.com
The article from this past April talks about issues of health care in the Adult Film Industry. There are more pieces in the online archive.
Tuesday, June 26, 2012
Monday, April 23, 2012
Sunday, October 9, 2011
SENSUAL MASSAGE -- THE PENIS
Here's a video I had never seen before that was sent in by a reader for the edification of you all. It's long and so is the video! This should give you a few, uh, pointers if you are into sensuous massage, large cocks or non-distracting quasi-Asian New Age music. Or if you have an oil fetish. A full service instructional video with a happy ending!
This is How You Massage A Penis
This is How You Massage A Penis
Friday, September 23, 2011
AUTUMN FALLING
I.
She said, “You could talk the pants off of me,”
I said, “But you aren’t wearing any.”
She said, “See.”
II.
“I met you when I was 14.”
I tried not to remind her how old I was now.
“I knew then we’d always be close.”
Years later, this conversation took place
She is jailbait no more.
She has kids
And an asshole ex
The type of which I encounter more often than not
These days
As a man about town
Where women have exs, children, bills
A smidgeon of spare time
Men have issues
And nights are long
In my arms confessing all.
In a town where my conquests, my flirtations
My formers and coulda-beens
Exist as much through the ether
As in real time face-to-face
Hip-to-hip horizontal bop.
Long distance lovers and dreamers and thieves
Who steal into my dreams and disappear
In the light of day
Or don’t.
She takes pictures for a living
Something I encouraged
A talented eye to try.
Now I look at shots of her
Through the years
And yearn for stories
And more.
We share sexy confessions late at night
She quietly listens
As my voices lowers near whisper
I hear her breath quicken
And she’ll coo in that warm musty voice of hers
Which strikes sparks
From my paused pontificating
As she murmurs
“I’m soaked. Tell me more…”
III.
Three dark sirens
And me strapped to the mast
Willing
Ready
Leaning into their songs.
The first doesn’t sing as much as scream
Panting at the slapping tide
Crashing against her hips
Stinging spots soft from neglect
Her eyes glazed in trance
Having waited for this storm
To rear up and spit its pent-up fury
In her anxious direction.
The second doesn’t sing
As much as dance the silent sound
Around
Serpentine ballet of illusion
Mystery
And pulls songs from around her
Where reflected
Become her own.
She is echo maker.
Creating bounceback
Riptide
Magnetic lunar tug
and light.
The sound that reaches
Here last
Shines as light vibrates
With sound
As creation is energized light
Fliting so quickly
Our eyes see nothing
But radiant
Blinding beauty
Youth of sound and movement
Danced and reflected
Spun like silk thru the tumultuous air
Shaking all still
In attentive embrace of the song.
But too fresh
To grasp the full effect.
Beauty reflects beauty
Reflects beauty
Dashed
To the ancient
Craggy sea.
IV.
Still autumn falls
In spite of our best efforts
In spite of hurried dreams
Storms brew and hit landfall
Floods, quakes
Minor heartbreaks
Blow up your inflatables
Man those paddles
We’re heading to the sea
On a river of you and me.
V.
There are healers
Squealers
Blatant revealers
Circling round my grizzled mop
Wallflowers
Awful towers
Of mismatched powers
Struggling over linguistics
Logistics
And wasted hours.
Tantalizing
Rope tricks
Some Willing Rogers lusty
Ribald
Knotty tales
Spinning captured
Words of rapturous
Love
Snakeskin boots
Apple corps.
Hanging
On this lion’s
Roar.
There are mysterians
Leaving c-c-cryptic massages
Red flesh handprint language
Moist code
To be deciphered
Mulled over
Questioned.
Just come clean.
Where were you on the night of…
Torturous inquisitions
Surveyed
Sexy
What ifs and what ares
Who dids and who didn’ts
Hands behind your back
Gimme some truth, baby
Confess
Melt down
Blab
What you need
Right now
All I ask
Amidst the charade
Is the ghost of reality
A taste on your lips.
~ September 8-10, BBC for Minx, Tiny, Ms. C, Ringer, SubB
She said, “You could talk the pants off of me,”
I said, “But you aren’t wearing any.”
She said, “See.”
II.
“I met you when I was 14.”
I tried not to remind her how old I was now.
“I knew then we’d always be close.”
Years later, this conversation took place
She is jailbait no more.
She has kids
And an asshole ex
The type of which I encounter more often than not
These days
As a man about town
Where women have exs, children, bills
A smidgeon of spare time
Men have issues
And nights are long
In my arms confessing all.
In a town where my conquests, my flirtations
My formers and coulda-beens
Exist as much through the ether
As in real time face-to-face
Hip-to-hip horizontal bop.
Long distance lovers and dreamers and thieves
Who steal into my dreams and disappear
In the light of day
Or don’t.
She takes pictures for a living
Something I encouraged
A talented eye to try.
Now I look at shots of her
Through the years
And yearn for stories
And more.
We share sexy confessions late at night
She quietly listens
As my voices lowers near whisper
I hear her breath quicken
And she’ll coo in that warm musty voice of hers
Which strikes sparks
From my paused pontificating
As she murmurs
“I’m soaked. Tell me more…”
III.
Three dark sirens
And me strapped to the mast
Willing
Ready
Leaning into their songs.
The first doesn’t sing as much as scream
Panting at the slapping tide
Crashing against her hips
Stinging spots soft from neglect
Her eyes glazed in trance
Having waited for this storm
To rear up and spit its pent-up fury
In her anxious direction.
The second doesn’t sing
As much as dance the silent sound
Around
Serpentine ballet of illusion
Mystery
And pulls songs from around her
Where reflected
Become her own.
She is echo maker.
Creating bounceback
Riptide
Magnetic lunar tug
and light.
The sound that reaches
Here last
Shines as light vibrates
With sound
As creation is energized light
Fliting so quickly
Our eyes see nothing
But radiant
Blinding beauty
Youth of sound and movement
Danced and reflected
Spun like silk thru the tumultuous air
Shaking all still
In attentive embrace of the song.
But too fresh
To grasp the full effect.
Beauty reflects beauty
Reflects beauty
Dashed
To the ancient
Craggy sea.
IV.
Still autumn falls
In spite of our best efforts
In spite of hurried dreams
Storms brew and hit landfall
Floods, quakes
Minor heartbreaks
Blow up your inflatables
Man those paddles
We’re heading to the sea
On a river of you and me.
V.
There are healers
Squealers
Blatant revealers
Circling round my grizzled mop
Wallflowers
Awful towers
Of mismatched powers
Struggling over linguistics
Logistics
And wasted hours.
Tantalizing
Rope tricks
Some Willing Rogers lusty
Ribald
Knotty tales
Spinning captured
Words of rapturous
Love
Snakeskin boots
Apple corps.
Hanging
On this lion’s
Roar.
There are mysterians
Leaving c-c-cryptic massages
Red flesh handprint language
Moist code
To be deciphered
Mulled over
Questioned.
Just come clean.
Where were you on the night of…
Torturous inquisitions
Surveyed
Sexy
What ifs and what ares
Who dids and who didn’ts
Hands behind your back
Gimme some truth, baby
Confess
Melt down
Blab
What you need
Right now
All I ask
Amidst the charade
Is the ghost of reality
A taste on your lips.
~ September 8-10, BBC for Minx, Tiny, Ms. C, Ringer, SubB
Thursday, June 30, 2011
Saturday, June 11, 2011
SMALL INSTRUCTIONS #5
As punishment for your not having read my previous message as of yet, tonight you will be forced to your knees, and as I take out my cock and stroke it in front of you, I may decide not to allow you to taste my warm tumescence. You must beg me for it with your eyes and if you aren't convincing enough I will punish you as I see fit. When I am through bringing you the pain that makes your body quiver with excitement, that hardens my stiffening wand to bursting, you will be requested to slowly ease your hand up my waiting ass. I want to feel your tiny hand inside me slowly coaxing my shivering body to respond. You will jerk and suck my cock down your waiting throat and when I am through having my pleasure satisfied you will receive a tender, deserved spanking until your tears are no longer yours but mine alone. Tonight, you are here for my pleasure. You will remember how you serve me and every day while I am gone, you will accept that your service will be missed and that when we next see each other all of our smoldering desire for each other will flow through us igniting the passion longed for over the miles.
Wednesday, June 8, 2011
SMALL INSTRUCTIONS #4
Hello my little slut,
Future plans: You will meet me fresh from shower using sandalwood soap. I want every inch of you smelling of this. You will wear expendable clothes and bring along something to wear home. Sexy panties a must. Clothes that can be cut or torn off of you and taken as shredded souvenirs as I desire.
You will call me only Sir, or mister. "No" will mean "yes." I will take you as I please and I want some resistance verbally and physically but I would like to see you cower as you did in my loving room the first time. When I am with you I am in a space of surety entwined with ecstatic suffering as your pain brings me a pain drenched with love and trust. Your trust empowers me.
When you left on Sunday, I stayed up for four hours fantasizing about so many filthy things I want to put you through. I will teach you to hurt me as well. A wonderful start we had. I long to call you from California and tell you all of these filthy things while you get yourself off. I yearn to find a young man anxious for you who will be tied and blindfolded and listen to me slap and chastise you. Who will listen to me fuck your ass, slap your thighs, hear you crying.
And while you are restrained and spanked into a trance, I will slowly pinch and kiss and provoke his anxious skin, pull his hair and suck his cock as you watch us, torturing him with enticing words and thoughts of his filling you with hard, thick cock. But before he is allowed to violate you, he must first make slow deliberate love to me, following your every wish.
Finally, we will both fill you with our warm fullness and splash our excitement across you beautiful face.
In the meantime, you are mine slutty plaything and I am your dastardly puppet.
Future plans: You will meet me fresh from shower using sandalwood soap. I want every inch of you smelling of this. You will wear expendable clothes and bring along something to wear home. Sexy panties a must. Clothes that can be cut or torn off of you and taken as shredded souvenirs as I desire.
You will call me only Sir, or mister. "No" will mean "yes." I will take you as I please and I want some resistance verbally and physically but I would like to see you cower as you did in my loving room the first time. When I am with you I am in a space of surety entwined with ecstatic suffering as your pain brings me a pain drenched with love and trust. Your trust empowers me.
When you left on Sunday, I stayed up for four hours fantasizing about so many filthy things I want to put you through. I will teach you to hurt me as well. A wonderful start we had. I long to call you from California and tell you all of these filthy things while you get yourself off. I yearn to find a young man anxious for you who will be tied and blindfolded and listen to me slap and chastise you. Who will listen to me fuck your ass, slap your thighs, hear you crying.
And while you are restrained and spanked into a trance, I will slowly pinch and kiss and provoke his anxious skin, pull his hair and suck his cock as you watch us, torturing him with enticing words and thoughts of his filling you with hard, thick cock. But before he is allowed to violate you, he must first make slow deliberate love to me, following your every wish.
Finally, we will both fill you with our warm fullness and splash our excitement across you beautiful face.
In the meantime, you are mine slutty plaything and I am your dastardly puppet.
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