True or False? Sex is NO laughing matter?

Are we too "straight" in the bedroom?
Should we be giving ourselves permission
to be more goofy?
Is there a place for humour in the bedroom? How about in porn or erotica? I wonder sometimes if we don't take ourselves too seriously when it comes to sex. So often we're more concerned about making the right impression, or being afraid that laughter in the bedroom might be mis-interpreted.

Occasionally I post photos that strike me in an odd sort of way and I caption them with word or thought balloons. I call these posts "Sunday Morning Funnies" and perhaps they amuse others, or not. Of course, we don't all share the same sense of humour, just as we don't all have the same tastes in sexual appetites. I guess my question is, can we allow ourselves to indulge our sense of play and share a laugh or two where sex is concerned?

Have you ever had the sort of let-your-hair-down relationship where you felt free enough to: stick out your tongue, waggle your naughty bits, make racing car noises while caressing your lover, wear a funny hat or clown nose while fucking, talk dirty in a ridiculous-sounding voice or accent?

How would sex be for you if you tried to crack each other up sometime?

Some ghoulish thrills for your Halloweenie!

Fleshlight's original toy. Hey, if she came
with it, I wouldn't need the toy!
Perhaps you've heard of the fleshlight? The makers of the multi-million selling masturbation toy have made it their mission to corner the market on sex aids for men by offering a wide range of variations to their core product. The concept is simple; a cylindrical tube (available in different styles/colours) houses an interchangeable inner sleeve made of "real feal (sic)" synthetic "flesh". The inner sleeves are molded in a variety of orifices and with different inner chamber textures. Some, in true sex-toy fashion, are modelled after porn starlet's naughty bits.

Now, just in time for the Hallowe'en season, the toy-maker introduces its line of Fleshlight Freaks. Because what could be sexier than the thrill of jacking into a synthetic product modelled after a vampire, a carefully sewn together Frankenstein's bride or rotting zombie flesh? Okay, is it just me, or do those last two have decidedly limited appeal? 

Girls, don't feel left out, there's also dildos included in the Freak line of toys. I really have to wonder though, how many people will buy the zombie or Frankenstein toys? There's a powerful ewww! factor to a toy that's based on corpse flesh. Think about it. Zombies, Frankenstein... dead. Admittedly, they're living dead, but dead nonetheless. I know, there's the whole Twilight vampire undead thing that's got women the world over wetting their knickers, but this is different. We're talking rotting dead, so you've gotta be at least mildly comfortable with the true concept of, um... necrophilia. In fairness, on the description for the dildos it says "for external use only". Really? Doesn't that negate the whole point of a dildo? How much fun could that be?

Hmmm... think of it as your own personal Avatar!
Creep factor aside, I will admit that the Alien and Cyborg versions of the toy do pique my interest. So what does that say about me? Just as Captain Kirk was quite comfortable with the thought of doing a green chick, I'll boldy go where no horny men have gone before and slip my Johnson into some synthetically molded blue, um... flesh.

Hey it's all fair game when Hallowe'en's involved.

Humans. We'll tap anything!

It shouldn't be surprising, really. When it comes to sex, we'll hit on anything to get off. Vegetables, clothing, alternate body parts, glory holes, elaborate toys of all materials and other substitutes far too mind-blowing to consider: all are fair game for the human animal to toy with.

It's hardly a shocker then, to hear that recent evidence has been revealed in support of the theory that humans (homo sapiens) cross-bred with neanderthals and other species of early man. Anyone who has ever seen Quest for Fire with it's impromptu scene of doggy-style cavemen humping could have told you that, but now at least we have DNA proof.

Goes to show how adaptable we are at fulfilling a need any way we can. Face it, our ancestors were as much pervs as we are today. After all, we're only human.

A spanking good time!

Spank me! Do I have your attention? Are you into spanking? And from what end? Would you rather give or receive? Something Jim Linderman said in a recent post on his Vintage Sleaze blog intrigued me.
"Nothing drives traffic to my site more than some poor woman being slapped. I really don't know why..."
What is it about spanking that drives so much traffic? Sure, I've enjoyed the odd pic or two of a woman bent over, her knickers down, in the midst of having her bottom warmed by a few licks. And once or twice I've even been lucky enough to have played a part in such scenes. However, I avoid the extremes. I'm turned off by the photos where the marks are bloody welts, and when I play, I do it for sensation and arousal, not for pain. For me, such games have always served as a warm up rather than the main event.

Perhaps I haven't found the right partner for that sort of thing. There's a certain amount of desire and commitment required to cross that fine line between pleasure and pain. I can understand why it so often manifests in the form of a lifestyle. But like so many pleasures I can take it or leave it as the mood strikes me. There's little about sex, or kink that doesn't attract or arouse me, but none of it is essential to my getting off.

What about you? Does spanking play a part in your intimacy? How necessary is it to your own pleasure?

Dressing Right

To dress left or dress right? It's known in some circles as a tailoring term with regards to a gentleman's anatomy and how it is situated within one's trousers. Usually there isn't a great of thought given to any choice about how it's hanging, but this satirical blog post sheds some insight as to how dressing right or dressing left affect's one's point of view.

Sinful Sunday
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Seriously? Who hasn't used visual aids at least once?

My Carol Cox collage.
Is it really is just a guy thing? There are endless debates about the percentage of men and women who use images during masturbation and there may be some validity to that. Certainly I'll admit to enjoying a little assist from a few raunchy images more often than relying on my imagination alone.

In an earlier post I spoke of a blogging niche for "cum tribute" pictures where guys post or share pics of themselves unloading their own money-shots on images of women (I'm sure there are probably some guys doing the same with pictures of men too). In some cases they choose celebrities, wives or girlfriends or are sharing their pictures of gf's and spouses and asking others to "tribute" them and share back. And, if the posts can be believed, there are even a large number of women eager to see their own pictures covered in cum by strange men.

An Apple a Day

With apologies to Steve Jobs & co., but there are other ways of getting the most from your Mac... they even serve as a handy mirror when you need one around the office.

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Wanton Wednesday

Busy gettin' some...

My Sinful Sunday entry. A little late perhaps, but hey! As you can see, I was busy.

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Sinful Sunday
blogs here!

Sport Hump!

In honour of it being Wednesday, otherwise known as "Hump-day" I thought I'd share some sport-related pix and links.

As some of you may know, we play a little game in Canada known as Hockey (or "ICE"-hockey as those who know nothing of the game insist on calling it). Tonight marks the start of the Stanley Cup finals between the Vancouver Canucks and the Boston Bruins.

I know, I know, you're wondering when do I get to the dirty bits and how do I tie it all to hockey? Here it is, for your inspection some pix from last week's semi-finals in which an inebriated female fan set off a firestorm of controversy for flashing an opposing team's player in the penalty box.

An enthusiastic Canucks fan gets her top off and her game on!

Grab Life by the Balls!

Sometimes you just gotta get a grip on things.

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Sinful Sunday
blogs here!

What turns you on?

Can't say there's only one thing that does it. Women always ask if I'm a breast man, or if I like legs or asses better. It depends on the owner, really. Or maybe it's feet, fuck-me pumps, flats or sandals. Could be a hot pink thong or a pair of white cotton panties. A summery dress or a business suit. Long hair, a short bob or purple highlights. Could be a wide mouth with a perpetual smirk and laughter in her eyes.

I remember one gf had fine, delicate hands that reminded me of a china doll. Sure, I like hand jobs, but for some reason, with her, the thought of it became a virtual obsession. I couldn't keep from imagining her hands working my stiff erection to a satisfying eruption of hot, sticky cum. It was damn-near maddening to have that thought in my mind whenever we got together.

Sometimes a particular fragrance simply screams hot sex, but if another woman wore the same scent I might not even notice.

I just never know what will do it for me next, but I always enjoy finding out.

The Gift (a bit of fiction for a Wanton Wednesday)

"What is it?" She asked, a note of apprehension in her voice.

"It's a mask."

"I can see that but what is it? It's ugly. It's frightening."

They were huddled together over a catalogue he had brought home from the leather store. In it, were items catering to nearly every fetish imaginable; boots, pants, skirts and jackets; briefs, bras, corsets, garters and stockings; whips, paddles, riding crops and switches; masks and gags; hand cuffs and restraints; and a variety of dildos, clamps, rings, chains and assorted other toys the uses of which could only be guessed at. Each turn of the page was like opening a Pandora's box of dark, erotic fantasy, of pleasures both sinister and wonderful.

She felt a queer, delicious thrill coursing through her, as she looked at the pictures with him, wondering about the strange toys and their uses, the people in the pictures and the thought that he and she could be just like them. She could sense in him the same excitement, that same naughty thrill which made her heart race faster. It was like musk, seeping from his pores to linger and mix with the scent of his skin before filling her nostrils and quickening her pulse. She knew for a brief moment they were sharing the same hidden desire, unashamed by it, encouraged by their mutual attraction to something so forbidden.