TMI: Men ask

1. Advizor:
I once overheard in a bathroom, “There is nothing as over-rated as sex or under-rated as a good bowel movement.” Discuss.

■Like Beck said: "clearly this person isn’t having the same sex as I am." Though with age, or meds, or heavily constipated, I'm sure that a good bowel movement would be pleasurable and relieving, just not nearly as much as sex - depending on their sex life and necessity of such bodily function.

2. the late phoenix:
Friendship lasts longer than cumming. which of your online friends that you’ve never met would you like to meet in real life? which do you think you could become life-long REAL friends with? Actual friends, like going out to coffee and movies with, gossiping with, kissing on the forehead, hugging, loving.

■There are so many people! Gaming I just met two over the summer, and one certainly fits the bill with the above. For bloggers, I can't wait to meet to Molly and her husband, Curvaceous Dee seems like she'd be amazing fun, and especially JohnDStories because both of us sisters are madly in love with him.

3. John D Stories:
In a parallel universe, who out of your blog or Twitter followers would you most like to spend a steamy evening with? What would you do? Why them?

■Such a difficult question to narrow to just one, so I'll go with the first man who made me want to straddle him from an image on SinfulSunday, Through the Lens

4. Virtual Sin:
(multi-part question)
a. What method of stimulation (intercourse, oral, manual, toy, whatever) gives you the strongest orgasm?
■Though his fingers will hit the gspot consistently and make me squirt, it is still intercourse that gives me the longest and strongest orgasms.

b. With what method of stimulation do you get the most orgasms?
■Would still be intercourse, again, a close second to his fingers.

c. If the answer to a is different from the answer to b, what’s wrong with your life?
■Orgasms are amazing, regardless.

5. Jon Pressick:
Would you rather have a life where you only had sex once a year for 2 minutes or where you have to have sex, every day for a minimum of 2 hours?

■The first one hardly even seems an acceptable answer. How is this even comparable?! I would love the second option.

Bonus:
Nero:
Is there anyone on your partner’s side of the family you find hot? If you could hook up with them without anyone finding out (ever!) would you?

■Don't find anyone hot in his family, though he thought I'd find his sister hot.

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Slut

Come be sinful with me...

Elust 49

Photo courtesy of Love Hate Sex Cake

Welcome to e[lust] - The only place where the smartest and hottest sex bloggers are featured under one roof every month. Whether you're looking for sex journalism, erotic writing, relationship advice or kinky discussions it'll be here at e[lust]. Want to be included in e[lust] #50? Start with the newly updated rules, come back September 1st to submit something and subscribe to the RSS feed for updates!

~ This Month’s Top Three Posts ~

A pill for that?
When I Get Annoyed, Shit Happens.
The Dildo Wars- Dildology & Doc Johnson

~ Featured Post (Molly’s Picks) ~

Sense, Sensibility and Censorship
Triggers, Asses and Subby Places.
~ Readers Choice from Sexbytes ~
There is no Freedom Without Risk
All blogs that have a submission in this edition must re-post this digest from tip-to-toe on their blogs within 7 days. Re-posting the photo is optional and the use of the “read more…” tag is allowable after this point. Thank you, and enjoy!

Blogging

Decisions, Decisions....
Voyeurism Rant About Blogger/WordPress & Host

Thoughts & Advice on Kink & Fetish

FIFTY SHADES OF GREY IS OFFENSIVE
Beautiful Rope Work - Easier than you think
Kinky Assumptions
As I promised...a singletail video!
Bootblacking
Chronic Fatigue and BDSM
NSA BDSM: Failure and Success
Supporting your dominant's dominance
How to Get Your Boyfriend to Spank You

Sex News, Opinion, Interviews, Politics & Humor

Rabbit Vibrators: How to measure for fitting
Acting! Thank You!
TItty Fucking
What's Wrong With Sexy Scientists?

Erotic Non-Fiction

Keep Me Nasty
No Safewords
Being on the Ropes
The Lead Up
My Birthday Spankings#BirthdaySpankingsforRei
More Like An Earthquake
Lessons
Stag at a sex party
A Fan of Fans
Let the rain come
Gangbang Club
The Polka-Dot Dress
Dinner for Two

Erotic Fiction

The (Not So) Innocent
Master's Bad Day
When She Comes
Summer Storm
Lolita Twenty-Thirteen, Part Seven
Eight Ball
A Hole in the Pack

Thoughts & Advice on Sex & Relationships

He hears me.
Why Doesn't She Respond to Cunnilingus?
I Don't Rape.
5 Reasons Straight Men Fear MFM Threesomes
Cap D'Adge and swinging
Boys & Their Toys
Anal Sex is Motherf***ing Awesome
Words of Wisdom
Seeing Red

FFF: Challenge

FFF - Who's watching? _follow to see who else is writing

Word Length = 200
Required Phrase = Obligation
Forbidden Words = Payment, Prediliction, Prostitution
Extra Credit = Make it personal
Bonus Words = 25 extra for explaining the tuxedos, 25 more if this isn't about the money

She had an obligation. She was to belong to the men in the room, to be whatever they wished for her to be. That was what her lover demanded, and his will was her pleasure, proof of devotion and love.

"Caress the tips of your breasts," was the first request, and she did until they stiffed and rose, gazing down instead of the men. One man was silent the entire time, almost detached from her actions, the other issuing the commands.

When he commanded she strip of her panties and ride him, she felt a pleasure in following through. She was good at being on top, knew when to tease and when to grind.

He grabbed her hips, and she was swiftly reassured in his moans, his body beginning to perspire, his hands clenching her more, and his hips thrusting. She arched back and her own scream of pleasure erupted.

She looked at the other man in the room, his body calm and composed. Did he even watch them, she wondered. She felt drawn to him, compelled to make him want her, to wrest the same pleasure from him, to make her lover proud. She felt herself growing excited with the challenge.

Kiss

I was drowning in a sea of hate and self-loathing. My eyes pooled and spilled over with tears of anguish. I wanted to scream "I don't want to DO this anymore! I just want to get AWAY!".  I wanted to pound on the walls and express my rage. I wanted to be someone else at the moment, anyone, as long as it was not me,  as long as I didn't have to feel this way, to be this person.

 I needed something from him that he cannot quite understand but I cannot live without. The jumble of feelings and emotions, I needed pain to overcome it all. Pain felt that was wholly my choice, not forced on me by another. To drown out the screaming in my head.

The strike of his hand and the grasp of his strong fingers was what I craved. I wanted the power stripped from me and unleashed through him. It was more than dominance I craved, it was consumption, ownership, to be absorbed into him. I quaked with my need and pleaded with a tear stained voice, trying to express that which was locked inside of me, trapped like I was in the place in my head.

"No."

I was being denied. This was MY life so I shouldn't be surprised, that sad pathetic thing I lived every day. I felt unworthy, wilted more than before, broken. Didn't he know? Couldn't he see I was in pieces on the floor, lying at his feet, at his mercy of which he was giving me none? How could he deny me the thing I needed most? 

Those fingers caressed my cheek and suddenly the dam within me burst. I had been pushed past the limits of my endurance and I couldn't contain it anymore. His cruel denial was the last straw and my anger bloomed in furious color in the staining of my cheeks and the sudden cessation of my tears. My hand came crashing into his cheek with a fury born of everything I was feeling and everything he was denying me. The sound was deafening and the feelings vibrating up through my fingers gave me a vicious satisfaction.

One way or another, someone was feeling the sting.

I turned as quickly as my hand had delivered the blow and tried to dam the hated tears that were brimming and threatening to spill and weaken me again; fully intent on leaving, on seeking solace in privacy from the Hell I was in. Strong fingers in a grasp that demanded my attention, but yet did not claw, suddenly gripped my arm and spinning me about quickly had me crashing into his arms on unsturdy legs.

Those beloved, hated fingers gripped my chin as he stared into my eyes. His lips brushed mine in a whisper. "No". One arm encircled my waist and the other held firm my chin as those same soft lips grazed mine. Once. Twice. Finally the lips took mine in a kiss that held all of the emotion I felt, and the deliverance from it. 

The tears I had so valiant a struggle against came now in torrents and rivers and flooded the earth and our cheeks. The salty taste of them intermingled and caressed our lips as they caressed each other in healing. He moved both arms around me in a tight embrace that told me I was home. The anger and the hurt had no room to be, for there wasn't even an inch between our bodies for them to gain space. He caressed my cheeks, kissed my tears, and stared into my eyes.

He knew me, better than I knew myself right then. I had lost myself, given myself over to things that are dark and seek to destroy but my lover was still there. He was my anchor and saw me when I could not see myself. I needed to see love, not power. The submission of myself and the power of his dominance was shown now not through force, but through an understanding that he would care for and protect me through  and from everything, even myself.

My clothing slipped to the floor in a pool as he slid his hands softly against my skin, caressing and worshiping every fevered inch as he went along. There were no restraints but I could not have broken free from the sensations now humming along my nerves. I loved the feel of his breath, the sigh lightly playing along my skin as his cheek rubbed against the side of my breast while he lowered himself to remove my panties. His head came to rest on my stomach and his arms encircled me for yet another embrace. There are no word I could use to express what the embrace of this man conveyed. As the last of my garments joined those on the floor, the last vestiges of my fury abated. I was soothed, I was loved, I was aroused.

He laid me gently on the bed and parted my thighs with kisses and caresses. He knelt down before me in worship and showed me the submission of his heart to my needs. His tongue was strong as it flicked across the very center of me; unlocking the secrets of me and causing my legs to quake.

The aftereffects of all of the heated emotions that had me so keyed up earlier were still coursing through my blood, making my nerves more sensitive and ready to explode. I could not contain my hands and needed as much as air to caress him, to touch every part I could. Within moments caresses turned into insistent tugging as I needed him to hold me again, to kiss me , to fill me.

No longer being denied, he rubbed his body over mine as the heat of him seared a memory onto my skin that would last an eternity. He was mine as I was his. He caressed my cheek, still damp with my emotion, and stared into my searching eyes.

As he slid into me, with one strong, fluid stroke, those lips, that had saved me from the precipice minutes before, formed the words I needed so badly to hear to heal my soul.

"I love you."

As my muscles melted with my relief they started gathering new tension in preparation for my release. My back arched and my hips rose up to meet his with increasing demand, my body expressing all of the love and need that my heart felt, to drive us forward to completion. As so rarely happens, the world fell into place and we reached our pinnacle together, my body tightening and wringing every drop of his orgasm at the same time, demanding it and claiming it as mine.

I had wanted his violence, but what I needed was his kiss.

Hospital Scavenger Hunt

There are only so many ways to stay entertained in the ER

So I decided it was time to do some photos for Curvaceous Dee's Scavenger Hunt

See who else is being  delightfully sinful

Prince Albert Piercing

Cammies has a friend who has a piercing through his penis. He loves this piercing, and has nothing but positive things to say about it. Cammies thought it would be a great idea to incorporate this pride and love of an unusual piercing to a great project: The Penis Project. 

What in the world would possess myself to get, or even want, a piercing through my penis? That’s a question I have heard many people ask me; promptly followed by a flood of questions to learn more about this outlandish piercing, the inquiring curiosities get more and vaguer with the amount asked, beating around the bush (pun intended). Finally, the last inevitable question is asked: can I see it? 

I have always been fascinated by getting my penis pierced, yet could never get the balls to just go do it. There were many things holding me back at the time. Pain: does it hurt and how bad, can something go wrong, is there a real benefit, will anyone still want to sleep with me, how is it even done?

First thing I began to do is research - I spent at least 5 years off and on looking up everything on the internet, ranging from the traditional Prince Albert (PA), reverse Prince Albert, Ampallang, and Apadravya piercing. I was surprised at how many ways with different piercings there are (the four are just a small amount of type of piercings that one can get). However, those four were what intrigued me the most. It didn’t take very long to decide on going with a traditional PA - it had been around the longest, not to mention most common for men to have, and does not require one to find a specialized piercer.

Whenever getting any kind of piercing there is always side effects; I don’t care what anyone says. Some can be very minimal, others can dramatically change your physicality. As for the PA, the only major thing that can go wrong, assuming the piercer is clean and sterile, is some loss of sensation. Risks fall on more the person getting it done than the piercer; if not kept clean, infection would only be the other real issue.

Pain: some enjoy it, others faint at the thought. I was definitely not afraid of pain, I assured myself that I have felt much more pain, and I could handle whatever the piercing would feel like; however, when talking about my penis, I really had to question if I wanted to subject myself to pain in such a sensitive area. I had the luxury of having a friend who has had his PA for a while, and asked him if it was worth it. Smirking, he replied, “yeah.” He is quite proud of this piercing, and encourages any man to get it. That was enough of a deciding factor to go for it, especially at the point of my life that I was in.

Walking into my local piercing studio, I asked if he could do a PA today. I went to the same piercer that my friend had went to. Once all the paperwork had been filled out, he took me back to his booth, and much to my surprise we sat talking about all the whole process from beginning to end: what to expect, how to breathe, what his process of piercing was. That alone help put me at great ease. As the piercer began to do the actual piercing, he had to put a catch tube partly down the urethra; it created a very interesting pain, like a sharp tingling point (almost like a burning pee or more painful than getting soap in your urethra). However, that is the worst part of the whole experience (not including foregoing sex or masturbation for two weeks; to which I only lasted 9 days). That first time was slightly painful - more so because I did not wait the full amount of time that I was instructed (I don’t always do what I’m told).

Once my PA was healed, I was all over myself.  The pleasure increased with every orgasm, feeling new sensations every time, not to mention different sensations with different jewelry. I didn’t know it was even possible to feel that kind of ecstasy. It starts at the very tip, almost like a vibrator on the head, as it travels down the shaft continually tingling through the very core, or the urethra. As it vibrates more and more, the sting gets even powerful with every stroke with the jewelry that I prefer, which takes more concentration to turn what some may consider pain into a superior ecstasy. (Again, that is the jewelry that I prefer – there is more stimulus, more exhilaration for me to have a measure of pain.) I will pick up speed, and then slows down, to enjoy the new sensitivity running through my body. When I do reach the point of rapture, I will often have to catch my breath, and ponder upon the newest revelations that has occurred.