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Posts Tagged ‘porn’
27 Jul

ConTuesday: Nah nah nah nah nah

I have to confess I haven’t been doing very well lately. My health has taken a turn for the worse, much to the chagrin of my sex life (and life in general). It’s getting to where I’m just too exhausted to see my boyfriend regularly, let alone pursue madcap sexual adventures. I’m hoping this is very temporary, but in the meantime I thought I’d infuse a little positivity by posting some of the most joyous– perhaps verging on gloating– anonymous confessions to ever appear in my inbox. Read and enjoy, because these people certainly are! I’m into it.

My long distance girlfriend came to visit last week. A good time was had by all, including some fun with chocolate sauce and a basting brush. By the end of the week she was around, she was referring to me as “The Energizer Bunny” and “A God in Bed”. Even managed to make her legs give out at one point. I just had to brag a bit.

(Re: June 29th confessions) Being bi is totally awesome for avoiding jealousy. My partner and I check out women or men together and we share porn all the time. (Gloat brag gloat)

I got the hood of my clit pierced a few years ago because guys had too hard of a time finding it – my clit’s too small. That’s not a problem anymore!

Last week I bound my breasts for the first time. I love being female and I love my boobs, but I wanted to know what it would feel like to have a flat(ter) chest. And it was awesome! I was bound all afternoon at work, put my (Share XL) cock on before I went to see my partner, and greeted him with a big, packaged hug.

Sometimes I get the feeling I’m easy to fall in love with. This isn’t the type of thing you can just tell people.

Got something to brag about? Or bitch about? Or just confess anonymously? Bring it all here.

09 Jun

The week in toys: Pleasurists #81

Sugarlight via ModelMayhem

Welcome to Pleasurists, a round-up of the adult product and sex toy reviews that came out in the last seven days. For updates and information follow our RSS Feed and Twitter.

Did you miss Pleasurists #80? Read it all here. Do you have a review for Pleasurists #82? Be sure to read our submission guidelines and then use our submission form and submit it before Sunday June 13th at 11:59pm PDT.

Want to win some swag? All you’ve got to do is enter.

Editor’s Pick

  • Wahl of Orgasms by Quizzical Pussy
  • People come up to me all the time and say, “Quizzical Pussy, I was so entirely sorry to learn of the demise of your Jack Rabbit.”

    At this point I always give my little funereal grimace/smile that I practiced when all my grandparents were dying off; I nod gravely. “Thank you for being here. It means so much to the family.”

Editor

Scarlet Lotus St. Syr

Looking for sexy posts other than reviews?

e[lust] #14

On to the reviews…

Read more…

08 Jun

ConTuesday! Porn and kinky firsts

Tuesday brings anonymous confessions as surely as June showers bring tornadoes. But anonymous confessions are way better unless I end up in Oz.

I keep a list of everyone I’ve ever fucked. Multi-year partners and one-night stands. It’s just their names, no details, no contact information. So far there are 18 entries. 5 have no last names. 1 has no first or last name. I’m not sure why I keep this list, or if it’s creepy.

I’m going with “not creepy”. If you had a spreadsheet with full names, current addresses, and mothers’ maiden names, that would be creepy. Come to think of it, though, I kind of keep a list myself, so my opinion might not count.

my boyfriend claims to have low sex drive and hardly ever has sex with me. Hmm. He spends an awful lot of time looking at nekkid women on the internet when I’m not around, though. Am I crazy to feel jealous? Clearly I’m inadequate. I’ve never had a man make me doubt my attractiveness before.

You’re not crazy to feel jealous. I think it’s usually silly when women feel threatened by chicks in porn, but when you’re not getting any sex it’s really easy to resent the fact that your guy is essentially being more sexual with strangers than he is with you. I don’t have any advice, and I wish I did, but I would feel exactly the same.

My first real life sexual experience was a full blown BDSM scene with a guy 20 years older then me I met on the internet. I was tied, gagged, blindfolded, beat to shit, fucked in the ass, beat some more then finally lost my “real” virginity before he pulled out and came in my mouth (which made me gag). It was awesome.

As a feminist, lesbian etc… I would have never watched the aforementioned “anal golf ball” porn, but found it super arousing…So much for studying for finals.

Have a confession that you’re dying to tell someone? Pick me! I’ll post it anonymously for you.

19 May

Phila…phila…good deed doer.

One of yesterday’s confessions referred to a certain pornographic video clip. The confessor remarked that she was sad she’d lost the clip; she also mentioned that it featured anal golf ball shenanigans and sports puns. Would you believe that a reader took pity on her plight and found the clip?

…Okay, if I told you it was Laramy, then would you believe it? I’m pretty sure it’s the same one. It fits the description (oh yes, I’m going to) to a tee.

If you’re reading, confessor, this is for you. It’s also for the rest of us, because I suspect we all wanted to see this clip. I know I did!

The following link is a VERY NSFW clip of an anal golf ball threesome (it took me a minute to decide what order to put those words in) with all sorts of elements that might offend you. If you think it might be objectionable, don’t click it. NSFW Here it is! NSFW

(image source)

18 May

ConTuesday! Making out and making par

When I was dating Aldo Melastophilus we always used to see each other on Tuesday evenings because I could get out of work at a non-obscene time that day and he didn’t have class. At some point he started calling Tuesday the “king of days”, which was pretty endearing, and for some reason it stuck with me. I think that with ConTuesday, the king is back.

Oh, and speaking of ConTuesdays, here are some anonymous confessions fresh from the internet!

My boyfriend went on a really special vacation recently — it was to celebrate his birthday, and he paid my entire way. While there, I made out with a man on the street in front of the place we were renting. My boyfriend was upstairs, very drunk and sick. I feel like a shit; I don’t know why I did it.

I frown on the abuse of women, but the porn I like basically involves women being degraded. Otherwise it’s blah. There was this one porn clip I had once where a dude is stuffing golf balls in one girl’s butt and she has to pop them out into another girls mouth, and the man kept calling them bitches and said “we have to make par on this one”, and it made me cum so hard every time. I lost the clip when my hard drive crashed and I miss it. I’m a girl, by the way.

When I meet a man I’m attracted to I don’t usually fantasize about having sex (penis, meet vagina) with him. I do, however, become obsessed with thoughts of sucking his dick.

I want to get really serious for a minute, bitches. As you might have noticed, I only got three confessions this week. Are we running out of deep, dark secrets or what? I just refuse to believe that. I know you have some really horrible things to tell me. Post them anonymously here. We have to make par on this one.

21 Apr

Alice Porn: Not what Lewis Carroll intended!

…Oh wait. Maybe it kind of is. Ugh.*

Laramy and I watched porn together for the first time on Monday night.

Actually, it was the first time I’ve ever watched porn with a partner, and I’m not sure why I haven’t before. I’ve never been one to take exception to my partner enjoying porn, and I enjoy it on occasion myself, so why no one wanted to watch porn with me until now is a mystery. Maybe previous partners thought I’d get in the way of their enjoyment or something, gumming up their fantasies with my flesh-and-bloodiness.

This isn’t to say that I want to watch porn while having sex, especially not as a routine. I can’t imagine too many things more joyless than getting ready to get it on with someone and hearing, “Oh wait, let me just put on this movie of people fucking to distract me from the fact that I’m fucking you, non-buxom, non-blonde, pale girl without a tramp stamp whose name I can’t recall just now. By the way, could you move your head so I can see the screen? Don’t want to lose my erection.” That would be depressing.

In fact, as someone who usually masturbates to pictures or just doesn’t use visual aids, I think porn is fun to watch, but it’s very hit-or-miss for me in terms of arousal. But watching it with someone cool always seemed like it might be fun and sexy: laughing at the cheesy parts together, critiquing techniques and positions, getting turned on and forgetting the movie halfway through. All fun, right?

Never happened that way for me. The closest I’d come until recently was when Edwin Pomble’s roommate pulled out Pirates one night and informed us it was the funniest porn of all time. “This I have to see!” I declared. Edwin agreed that we could all watch it together as long as we fast-forwarded through the sex scenes. …Yeah. This was shortly before I realized I’d rather be fucking his roommate.

When Laramy asked me if I wanted to watch Alice in Wonderland: An X-Rated Musical Fantasy, a 1976 musical porn starring Kristine DeBell, with him my only misgiving was that I find nearly everything made in the 1970s ugly–not people, obviously (call me), but TV and movies, etc. I’m not sure what went on with film processing or whatever during that decade, but it’s unacceptable. But hey, I finally had an offer to watch porn with someone hot, so I was going to take it! Plus, Laramy loathes musicals and likes porn, so I was looking forward to a hilarious internal conflict at the very least.

The film is pretty ridiculous. Which is fair, because Alice in Wonderland is a literary tribute to the sublime within the ridiculous. On the plus side it didn’t take itself too seriously, there were some crazy hot chicks in it (I watch gay porn for the men; straight porn is all about the girls for me), and there was one section where, shortly after a lesbian nurse scene, they actually had sing-along lyrics posted: “His ding-a-ling up! His ding-a-ling up! We got his ding-a-ling up!” referring to Alice’s  messianic lifting of Humpty Dumpty’s erectile dysfunction where the hot nurses had failed. Needless to say, it was a fun movie.

The problem was, neither of us found it all that arousing. Sure, there were a couple brief moments where I felt myself getting into it, but then some new absurdity would get in the way and they’d all have to sing about it or stumble through some halfhearted rhyming dialog. It felt a lot more like watching a hilariously bad movie than a hilariously hot one.

Oh, we still had awesome sex afterward. But we both agreed, not without a twinge of disappointment, that the musical porn we watched beforehand had very little to do with it.

I must say, I’m fairly excited to see the upcoming Erica McLean’s Alice starring Sunny Lane and featuring April Flores as the Queen of Hearts (see Epiphora’s glad tidings about the project here). Fleshbot indicated that maybe it was scheduled to come out on Monday, the very day we watched the old Alice, which would’ve been a freakish coincidence since I thought it was coming out later. But I’m not so sure that it has, since the website doesn’t seem to have any clues as to how to get it.

Anyway, our porn-watching experiment was a blast, and I think we’re going to make this a regular thing. Musicals, probably not so much, although I did make him suffer through The 5,000 Fingers of Dr. T. early on in our relationship. Love me, love every single one of those 5,000 fingers, dammit.

*Or maybe it’s just our dirty, dirty minds and he was just being very nice to that little girl. The world may never know.

20 Apr

ConTuesday! Deception, dry spells, gray area

You may be interested to know that although I’ve been putting sex confessions up for a little while now, I haven’t yet had anything close to an inkling of whom any of them are coming from.

I’m not sure if that says something about the wonders of anonymous forms or my profound density concerning recognizing writing styles (if people who leave comments on the site or whom I know in real life are indeed sending in secrets). The only ones I know for sure about are the ones I send in (for the record, the one about Lemon Party was me and it’s absolutely true). I can’t even begin to speculate on the rest.

Without further ado, here are this week’s secrets:

I’m a nice and lovable guy who gets along brilliantly with everyone who meets me or knows me. And yet 90% of the things that come out of my mouth are lies…about everything, starting from simple things like what I did that day or ate the previous. Ending with things like my level of education (I’ve lied it to be higher and lower than it really is) and pretty much everything to do with sex. I’ve been to a psychologist with this problem and ended up making things up so well that she said that I’m just imagining the fact that I’m lying to everyone and about everything.

I made a big deal out of my fuckbuddy sorta-kinda-a-little gray-raping me when we broke up, but I never told anybody that it was the second time. Several months before that he’d gotten on top of me and I’d said “no” and he stuck his dick in me anyway. But only for a second, and it didn’t hurt or anything, and maybe it was some kind of misunderstanding, I was lying naked in his bed after all. So I felt like it would be silly to make a big deal out of such a small incident and kept seeing him.

Oh, and before that there was an incident where he just lay on top of me and held me down (he’s got a good hundred pounds on me) and didn’t let me move for several minutes even though I was begging him. But he didn’t do anything sexual to me, it was just… weird.

It’s not at all my place to say whether you should consider your own experience rape or not, but I feel like I should say this in hopes that you’ll read it: I personally think that any time you’re saying no and a guy sticks his penis inside you, it’s a big deal, and you’re perfectly justified and not at all silly if you treat it as such. I know there are lots of forces that work against feeling justified in that, so I want to make sure you hear it from somewhere. For what it’s worth.

I want one night in the sack with my boyfriend’s best friend. Just one night. I don’t want to date him, don’t want a relationship with him (god knows it wouldn’t work), but the way he looks at me sometimes I know he’d eat me right up. I just want to see what he would be like to fuck. I know we’d go after each other like a pair of crazed weasels. I don’t feel terribly guilty about it; I’m sure my boyfriend keeps a file of women in his head that he’d like to go after, just once, just because they turn him on that much.

I haven’t had sex with my wife in a year or thereabouts. She’s given me head ONCE since our wedding. I should of realized this would happen, when we were dating and engaged she NEVER offerred, I always had to beg. Then when she knew she had me it stopped. Other than the disappearing head we had an OK sexlife until the sex stopped too. Now I think I hate her or close. She’s a glorified baby-sitter (for kids I love but who she insisted on having) who always wants more cash and attention. The worst thing is that I’ll never have the guts to divorce her or cheat.

When I was young, I used to watch porn on my parents’ computer. I’d also read hot (but badly written) erotica about everything: beasiality, food, stepfather rape, whatever. When the computer started getting viruses and bugs related to sex, my parents asked me and my siblings about it. I blamed my older brother. They still don’t know it was me. (I’m female)

Now go visit the Sex Confessional and anonymously tell the internet something you’re never going to tell anyone who matters. You know you want to.

07 Apr

ConTuesday: Wednesday edition

It’s ConTuesday! On Wednesday. Remember, please, that a day late is not always a dollar short. Which basically just means that I think we have a good batch this week.

I think Lemon Party is kind of cute. I’m not attracted to the men in question, I’m just happy to see those old dudes having fun and getting it on in their declining years. It gives me hope for the future. I honestly don’t get why people are so horrified by it.

When I was a teenager, I used to stick my tongue up my boyfriend’s nostrils and sometimes I’d pull his nose hairs out with my teeth. I thought it meant we were very intimate.

(When I was a teenager I thought my boyfriend leaving a surprise  context-free dog collar on my car for me to find the morning after a sleepover with my girlfriends was weird until he explained that it was romantic. Not why it was, just that it was. Ah, to be young again.)

My friends host porn parties sometimes where we have a potluck and mock the porn story lines and techniques. I mock the porn, too… but secretly some of it turns me on.

(Porn turns me on too, buddy. We should start a support group.)

One of my best friends in the whole world has been in love once in her life. She’s over 30 now. She was dating a guy who was a bit dickish. I was friends with him too, but he was a dick. He talked behind her back about how she wasn’t right for him and he felt trapped. He started off using her for sex but it got out of hand and he didn’t think he could ever have feelings for her.

One night him and I were hanging out while she was out of town and he tried to kiss me. I dodged it and told him he was out of line. I never told her about the kiss that almost happened. He dumped her about a month after that. I told her she was better off, but I’ve never brought myself to tell her that he tried to cheat on her with me. I think it would destroy her.

I still masturbate to nekkid pics of 2 of my exes. They think I’m destroyed the digital images, but those are really hot women were talking about. Deleting them is worse than smashing a priceless painting. It’s a mite shady, but I’m being the gentleman considering I could have them all up on the internet right now.

I laugh louder than anybody at homo/fag/gay jokes…unless my gay friend who’s dick I regularly suck is listening. My girlfriend thinks I’m being sensitive, but really I don’t want him to be offended and stop our secret ‘movie nights’.

I tweeze the stray hairs around my nipples religiously. When I move in with my boyfriend I’m going to have to be very sneaky about my tweezing, because he always talks about how his ex had nipple hair and how grossed out it made him. I always carry tweezers in my purse in case we get trapped on a deserted island.

I had a girlfriend for a while who was both kinky and had self-esteem problems. And was religious. I could hit all her buttons and make her forget all of that and do whatever I wanted, whatever she wanted… and then she’d come off the endorphin high and wallow in regret, and come back to me so I could make her feel better again. I don’t know if it was rape. She said yes after she said no, does that make it okay? After her brain chemistry changed because of things I was saying or doing, and she was willing to do things she explicitly told me not to do, is that rape? She didn’t think so, my friends didn’t think so, my psychologist didn’t think so, but something inside me keeps saying it was. But if it was, why don’t I feel bad about having done it…

My college boyfriend didn’t want to have sex before marriage, but I convinced him that oral sex wasn’t sex (something I don’t really believe) and, after he said no more oral, that it didn’t count if I gave him a handjob and he only finished in my mouth. I feel kind of bad about it, but mostly I’m just annoyed that he didn’t want to have sex with me.

…These last two confessions are particularly interesting in juxtaposition to each other. Without clarifying details, they could easily be describing very similar situations, but one confessor’s partner was female and the other was male. Was one of these more disturbing to read than the other? I’m really curious what everyone thinks.

Anything you’d like to confess? Anything with which to shock and amaze this corner of the internet? Lay it on me.

20 Jan

/me fap fap fap

I’m no one’s sterotypist laureate or anything, but it seems to me conventional wisdom holds that men and women fap very differently. Some sources actually contend that women can’t fap at all, and that they only “schlick”, but that’s misogyny for you. Schlick isn’t even a word, and it sounds off-putting.

So let’s just all agree that girls can fap. And do. Some more frequently and enthusiastically than others. And perhaps it really is true that men and women tend to gratify themselves differently. Maybe men and women are from different planets, and those planets have very different masturbation rituals. Like…

“How men masturbate”

Let’s look at a fap in the life of your average bloke. He’s going to want a healthy clutch of porn, his hand, and ideally a bottle of lotion. A quick click animates the pretty naked things on the screen and his dick snaps to attention. He’ll graze on different porn scenes, flitting over whatever catches his eye and discarding it when it loses his interest, moving on to the next stimulus, and then the next. Alternately, if he’s in the shower or another place where porn isn’t readily available, he’ll use his imagination and fantasize about fucking his friends’ girlfriends or his wife’s sister or his squash partner. He focuses on the most sensitive spots on his cock with a fast and heavy, practiced touch. His orgasm is quick and workmanlike. He’s done this thousands of times and faps with efficiency, for results.

“How women masturbate”

Women don’t masturbate so much as make love to themselves. Women don’t like regular porn. They like “erotica”. There are special porn companies that make smut with story lines and character development and poignant portrayals of intimacy, but everyone knows that most women prefer their erotica in text, be it slash featuring anime characters or bodice-ripping plucked from the grocery store.

When a woman decides to masturbate, it is an event. She pours herself a glass of wine, lights some scented candles, and luxuriates in a bubble bath or lays back in bed with a favorite toy. And there she escapes into an erotic fantasy, becomes other people, slips into breathless moments and exotic roles. Her hands wander all over her body, teasing her neck, thigh, nipple– like a lover might, tracing circles that spiral ever closer to her sacred center. Finally, when she’s ready and she’s at an especially hot paragraph, she stimulates her clitoris or impales herself tenderly with a dildo. It’s spiritual, vital, powerful. It’s part of the process of falling desperately in love with herself. Hell, she might even have an orgasm!

…Yep. That’s definitely how men and women masturbate, respectively. But I’m such a special snowflake that none of it applies to me.

How I masturbate:

I’m actually much closer to the male stereotype when it comes to fapping, but I suspect that many women are. I can’t relate to its female analog. It seems too damn elaborate, like a lie that tries to cripple your skepticism with irrelevant details. I may need to put in a lot of work to seduce someone else, but myself? If I can’t be my own sure thing, we have a problem.

I think lots of women actually do like porn, and not just “girl porn”. Plenty of us like the really hot, exploitative kind. When I’m in the mood for video, I’ll watch mainstream, gay, or lesbian porn: hot people fuckin’, preferably saying derogatory things here and there.

But usually, I don’t just masturbate like a guy; I masturbate like a fourteen-year-old boy. I browse through pictures of hot naked chicks, my vibrator poised on my clit (or I’m actually jacking off, but we’ll cover that another time), eager eyes darting to the next picture, and the next, and the next. I’m not thinking about aught but the scandalous things I want to do to these women: there’s no grand backstory, no character development, just me-on-them action. In my mind’s eye.

Sometimes I do this for literally hours. Because although I normally pride myself on my will of adamantium, once I start getting off it is really, really tough for me to make myself get back on.

It’s a relief to be able to admit this aberrant behavior now. I spent a long time lying to boyfriends and telling them I thought of nothing, absolutely nothing, or just them when I fapped. We’re all mature enough here to realize that our partners are lying through their teeth if they tell us that, right?

Of course, sometimes I will think about fucking guys, usually things I did with partners in the past, things I wish I’d done with them, or things I intend to do with them.

…Or I fantasize about fucking my friends’ girlfriends. Just kidding. Kinda.

One thing that may be more stereotypically feminine about my system is that I actually do prefer “tasteful(ish) nudes” when it comes to pics. I don’t really need the spread-eagle pussy shot; in fact, occasionally it just looks tacky to me and I move on to something with a little more mystery: a wall to scale, a thicket to penetrate.

Sure, I’ll fap to hot text sometimes: a well-crafted erotic story or a field report from a fellow blogger. Not often, but it certainly happens. I’ll also masturbate casually while watching TV or reading a completely neutral book: it’s like fidgeting, but much better. I honestly do masturbate too much, the more I think about it. But really, every single other guy from my planet seems to have the exact same problem, right?

23 Dec

Giving good phone: pro edition

My voice gets deeper, huskier when I’m really aroused. Yeah, when I’m in the middle of a screaming orgasm it can get a little shrill, but in general I’m much less “excited chipmunk” than “scary sex tiger ready to fuck you up”.

Which is why I was surprised when I started training to be a phone sex operator. To me, the vocal Viagra archetype has always been along the lines of Kathleen Turner, Scarlet Johansen, Dr. Girlfriend (…too far?): deep, throaty, seductive. When I got hired on part-time at a phone sex company, I was ready to exercise my contralto range. Turns out, what I would consider a “sexy voice” wasn’t my work horse. At all.

Millicent, my boss, was a seasoned PSO who oriented me over the phone. I was sitting in my apartment and clutching the landline phone that I’d bought especially for my new career, leafing through the training booklet she’d sent me in the mail. I was a little nervous to get started; I’d had phone sex with boyfriends before, but who was I to know what complete strangers liked?

“You have a naturally sexy voice,” she assured me, after teaching me how to simulate the sound of fingering myself by using my hands and a little spit. “but you’ll find that guys tend to react better when your voice plays into their fantasies.”

“Like a Jessica Rabbit-type thing?” I offered. I was pretty sure I already knew the answer. Who doesn’t want to play patty cake with Jessica Rabbit?

“Not really,” Millicent dashed my fragile dreams. “Actually, they usually like it when you make your voice higher and giggle a lot.” She demonstrated for me; it was like she was the most vapid demon-possessed helium junky on Earth.

Really? Huh. I followed her lead. I immediately wanted to punch myself in the face. “Perfect,” she said.

I was skeptical, so I decided to split the difference. Millicent suggested I create two stock characters based on the pictures I’d be assigned on the website. (No, fellas: those pics are not actually the broads you’re talking to. Cry for me. Mmmm, your tears are so yummy and sweet!) Faun had light brown hair and a gymnast’s body, and she was a perfect candidate for the squeaky, maniacal rodent voice. Thumper had dark hair and blowjob lips, so I gave her what I considered a sex bomb voice, a little lower and smokier than my regular timbre. We would just see who the men liked better.

Would we ever!

Faun and Thumper had about the same number of calls, but Faun’s shrill laughter and adolescent wonder at everything the masculine mind could think to utter consistently kept the call times longer and the callers happier. Once, a guy actually gave a lame excuse to get Thumper off the phone, called the company back for a new girl, and then talked to Faun for hours.

I’m willing to accept the possibility that my Jessica Rabbit impression is crap, but it’s also possible that there’s something more sinister at work. It’s troubling to think that a me with an ice cube thrown down the back of my shirt may be more aurally enticing to the average man than a gagging-for-cock me.