When I think of Kate Moss or see her in a variety of magazine spreads, I’m reminded of the song by The Verve and then I change the song around. Instead of the Drugs Don’t Work, it’s obvious that in Kate’s situation, the drugs do work and while I’m in no way condoning drug use, it seems as though Kate’s career has gone from strength to strength after her cocaine Kate label and ‘bust’.
I don’t want to use the word sexy and model together. I realise that there is a lot of airbrushing happening, especially with Kate’s cigarette habit, but still,these images just make me want to book a tropical holiday, have that hot and torrid holiday fuck-fling and…well…be Kate Moss for a day.
Actually I”m pleased that Kate has pubic hair. Enough of the bald look and the wusses who cry over a stray pube!
Images: Mario Sorrenti
They never resemble their photographs. ‘Sexyman’ Tom’s voice suckered me in. Like warmed honey over fresh waffles, the thought entered my head through my ear but felt like it took a detour, sliding down my throat and on to my nether regions. Smooth, viscous and overwhelmingly tempting, it rooted me to the spot.
I imagined Tom eating me, exploring the various scenarios. How would he begin? Would he gently pry my pussy apart with his fingers, hopefully large and powerful fingers, or dive straight in with his mouth? My lips tingled slightly.
On the telephone, he came across as a confident man. They all do. Their voices take on a can-do tone.
“I’d like to see you as soon as possible. It’s around two now. How about six?”
I swallowed, my hand trembling slightly. “S-Sure…I mean, can I call you back? I’d like to double check my schedule. You see, I’m still at work,” I said with a slightly lowered tone.
“Oh sure, darl.” His gregarious voice overrode my inner logic. Paul would have to make do with a microwaveable dinner or, what he preferred, dining out at the pub with his friends. Life couldn’t be easier.
“Look. Why not? Where would you like to meet?” I coolly asked. “It’s best to get over the nerves and anticipation. No?” I sounded as though I’d done this numerous times. Well, I did it once. Fucking strangers speaks of verve and impulsiveness with a slash of silliness, but I didn’t care.
We arranged to meet at a suburban restaurant. Its fancy name rang in my mind and as I waited at the table, feeling somewhat awkward refolding the red napkin before me, I avoided the waiter’s glance. Ten minutes skated by and as I rechecked my watch, I gave up on Tom arriving. I’d been had. Stood up. Thoughts collided: humiliation brandished my cheeks with waves of prickly heat while my bold inner half brazenly stood on the mole hill of denial. Then the door opened and the man entering glanced at me with a knowing glance.
My first thought was ‘woah!’ A web moniker tends to exaggerate. Tom’s income definitely reflected his dress sense, right down to his custom designed shoes. Crocodile. As for the rest of him. He could have taken a central role in an Ian McEwan novel; average in face, expression and demeanour, his soft physique confirmed his aversion to gyms. He turned toward me and grinned. His smile lacked star quality, failing to illuminate his face and balance his crooked nose, small close set eyes and protruding lips.
We were meant to ‘meet for adult fun’ and as I sat, eyes relatively stunned, I focused on the moment and the extravagant menu before me.
The waiter took Tom’s cashmere coat and returned to escort him toward my table. It was too late to mumble a garbled excuse and dash. There I sat, adventure girl. My smile froze in place and Tom’s eyes focused on my lips. He seemed to be pleased after his minute inspection. Men of his aesthetic limitations can be like that and tend to gravitate toward features they themselves will never have.
“I’m happy to meet you. Tom.” He extended his chubby hand toward mine.
“Same,” I said. “You’re a little late.”
Tom shrugged. “I’m afraid it’s part and parcel of the job, darlin’.
A macho man, I thought. Acknowledgment with no apology. How striking. Others would call it refreshing, but I loathed the liberal sprinkling of the word. These days, everything takes on the qualities of a zingy soft drink. It’s ‘refreshing this’ and ‘refreshing that’.
I decided to match his verve. “You’re not like your profile.” But he did have a fuckable voice, even though voices cannot be fucked. I could close my eyes. I’ve never stopped to consider or count the attractiveness of all the men I’ve slept with, but Tom sat at the top of the average pile. Never one to utilise the word ugly to describe people, I had to concede this time. If Tom’s features had to be summarised on the basis of their asymmetry, and his demeanour was factored in, complete with his burps and ungraceful tooth picking, then the word would have to suffice.
He ordered his steak rare and relished his selection of red wine. I couldn’t deny the appeal of his food choices. Paul was so goddamn picky about everything. In restaurants, sauces had to be served separately. Tom didn’t care for hoity-toity niceties.
“Here, have some,” he raised his fork.
I gazed at the thick chunk of bloody meat and evaluated it as an offering. Semi raw, I felt as though I was seated in the presence of a hunter. Accepting his meaty offering was symbolic of so much more. From our conversation – Tom raved more about work – I gathered that he had lived for work, that his stature provided him with a daily sense of pride and confidence but such things didn’t necessarily translate to much in the dating game.
“I didn’t marry. No offense, but women want a lot. It’s not enough that I earn a significant amount, they want more and more…and a twelve inch cock!”
I smiled. “That’d be a little uncomfortable.”
“Not that I’m revealing anything from experience,” I added, clumsily bumping my dessert cutlery.
He stabbed the air with his knife. “Uh-Uh, you can’t run from that. Go on, tell me about your preferred cock size. We’re friends. Besides, we don’t have to see each other again so it’s less embarrassing.”
Bolstered by the wine and the tasty morsels before me, I nodded and gathered the details of my sexual wanderings.
(2 B Cont’d)
There is no way on earth I’d sympathise with Hitler, namely his early life and his rejection from art schools based on the view of him being a mediocre talent but I do think that rejection, for certain people, plays a huge role in how they view the world around them. Hitler was rejected from The Academy of Fine Arts and although his future wasn’t a positive development for the rest of the world, it’s strange to know that he had a different first preference for his life. Still, it’s difficult to imagine Hitler as an artist.
But his works, or the irony of ‘dead’ artists and potential artists selling has little to do with talent, but Hitler’s male nudes do raise eyebrows. Then again Hitler’s sex life is intriguing. For myself, personally, I find the idea that he had a relationship with Eva Braun weird. Then again he was a bit of a perv,with rumours of having a sexual relationship with an immediate female relative. Anyway, these drawings are are pencil drawings of nude men… Makes you wonder about his preference for tall nordic looking men as ‘ideals’.
The drawings, along with a few others, are expected to be auctioned for a few thousand Euro. Potential buyers would probably factor in the historical aspect of the drawings, but as for artistry or artistic merit? When these are viewed with the remainder of his work, it’s easy to see why he was rejected from The Academy of Fine Art. Of the drawings being auctioned, these two drawings are probably the better two. That’s not to say that contemporary artists draw any better. Most don’t, so there must be some bias in selection for fine art colleges. During Hitler’s time, financial and social background was an important factor and his rejection probably fueled his intense backlash.
St Matthew-in-the-City Anglican Church in New Zealand had to take down this billboard, which I have to admit is quite apt for Easter. Its controversy lies within the -heaven forbid-sexual insinuation, that of Mary and Joseph actually having a sex life and how God, a non-tangible ‘being’, is sexually superior.
I’m not the best person to evaluate this, people who have completed science degrees seldom are, but I don’t know what’s worse, the notion of sexual superiority and humiliation that the poster implies by transforming Joseph into a sexual failure or the fantasy of procreation without sexual activity, through an act of magic – which really is absurd in the 21st century.
It’s no fun to ridicule beliefs, but this poster was actually on a church to praise a god for being better in bed than Joseph, and received negative feedback. It’s not the best way to go about promotion a particular religion.
Things that had me wide eyed, bushy tailed, mentally stimulated this weekend include…
I’m in the midst of sex. The written kind. My office temperature may be relatively conventional, but my body heat fluctuates with the variety of erotic short stories I’m in the middle of reviewing for this site.
I love it when I read stories and find it incredibly difficult to distinguish preferences. Here is a sample from Best Women’s Erotica 2010, from ‘Straight Laced’ by Carrie Cannon:
He circled his palms over my ass and cradled my cheeks, feathery fingertips just teasing my creases. One hand wandered to my front and traced by clit. Electric shock waves shot through my body. He pressed more firmly, deeper between my legs, rubbing the thin fabric separating his fingers from my cunt…
The review will be published this week so keep an eye out for it.
Where would the adult world be without Vivid, with its Vivid dead celebrity sex films? Now there is a film featuring the grand axe man himself, Jimi Hendrix. At 11 minutes, it isn’t a long film and it shows a threesome, and then there are discussions of his sexual prowess….not to mention a cock mold of his shlong.
The Hendrix footage looks more fun than Pamela Anderson’s boring old sex tape (how boring was it? Is she a missionary sex fan or what?)
According to the blurb:
The Vivid DVD is a sexual documentary that gives insight on the uninhibited rock ‘n roll scene of the Sixties. The company consulted with several experts to authenticate the footage and the movie features commentary by two of the experts that Vivid brought in: Pamela Des Barres, author of “I’m with the Band: Confessions of a Groupie” and other books, who teams up with Cynthia Plaster Caster, famous for creating plaster molds of the penises of rock stars, including that of Hendrix. We learn more about the sexual side of Hendrix’ music through the commentary from both women who knew him personally.
“This new movie shows that Jimi Hendrix could have been as great a porn star as he was a rock star. He could clearly play more than just his guitar,” said Vivid co-chairman Steven Hirsch. It’s easy to see that he turned women on with his music and his passion.”
As consultants, the first job of Des Barres and Plaster Caster was to confirm that it is actually Hendrix portrayed in the 8 mm footage. “No doubt about it,” says Plaster Caster. “That’s Jimi Hendrix’ d*ck and I should know.” She then relates how she was invited to Hendrix’ hotel room on February 25, 1968, where she made a plaster mold of his penis which she compares to Jimi’s on film.
Plaster Caster says Hendrix had an orgasm while in her cast for the mold, which she numbered #0004 and called the “Penis de Milo.” “It was a magical process that only lasted a half hour,” she recalls. In the Vivid DVD she also reveals that on the night she cast Hendrix’ penis she also had sex with musician Noel Redding, bassist for The Jimi Hendrix Experience band.
Des Barres says in her commentary: “Hendrix liked to be filmed having sex. He’s the ultimate adult film movie star. I understand why everyone wanted to sleep with the guy. He played like an all-encompassing rock orgasm. He reeked of sex. You wanted to strip to keep up with him when he played ‘Foxy Lady.’”
I mean…talk about immortality!
Check the video preview here and you can read more about Hendrix’s plaster cast cock here, where you can buy a copy.
I’ve been working on an area of sex research, designing possible research while wondering how comfortable undergraduate students may be. Lately I have been busier, only because I’ve picked up a few tutorial classes for extra cash and each time I allude to sexuality in respect to relationships, I experience the little classroom tittering -like something is naughty and all that.
My office is still being partially occupied by Mr Know-It, who overheard me discussing my weekly predicament with a female colleague and he offered his wisdom, for me to roll my eyes. Yes, I knew that my students are ‘young’ (between 18 and 19). Yes, I’m quite aware that they may not be sexually experienced, but to laugh like ten year olds each and every time?
He drummed his fingers on his desk and raised his voice. “But they’re young. Some may be pro abstinence, and in this day and age you couldn’t really blame them, with all the infections and divorce rates.” He really went to town! I’ve only written this bit of the sentence.
I tersely replied, “There is such a thing as habituation. I would expect them to have adapted. It’s not like I’m showing them pornographic orgies!”
Well, didn’t Mr Know-It react. He reddened. His shade matched my crimson bra.
So I’m exploring methods and can only arrive at questionnaire type sex surveys for my students, and I expect them to LIE, LIE AND LIE.
Welcome to e[lust] - The 10th edition! Your source for sexual intelligence and inspirations of lust from the smartest & sexiest bloggers! Whether you’re looking for hot steamy smut, thought-provoking opinions or expert information, you’re going to find it here. Want to be included in e[lust] #11? Start with the rules, check out the schedule in the site’s sidebar and subscribe to the RSS feed for updates!
~ This Week’s Top Three Posts ~
Negotiation – Not Nearly As Awkward As Having a Breakdown in Public – All the worries about getting to know a new person (“Am I dressed ok? Are they gonna like my stories about my grandma?”) get exaggerated when you’re talking about sex and desire…
Dollar Store Domme – He definitely can’t elude the dollops of toothpaste I dab onto his nipples. It takes a delicious second before he feels the cool burn penetrate his flesh. By that time I’m already up and selecting a plastic spatula from the credenza.
The Best of Both Worlds or Lost in Limbo? – Whether intentional or unthinking, bisexual denial is a frustrating thing for bisexual, pansexual or ‘fluid’ people to have to deal with.
~ e[lust] Editress ~
Navigating Genderqueer in Suburbia – But pray tell how do the rest of us navigate it? How the hell am I supposed to know if you identify as male or just like dressing like one?
~ Featured Post (Lilly’s Pick) ~
The Daddy Issue: Sexualizing Abuse – I needed to walk through this fear, and turn it into pleasure. I needed to prove to myself that he hadn’t broken me. That he hadn’t changed who I was to become. That I was not affected by what he did. That he didn’t abuse me.
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!
15 minute phone sex
…And Orgasms On Demand
A Neighbor In Need #7
Desperation & Dominance
Evening Home, Part 3
First Asleep Loses
I am a keeper of secrets
I Got Fucked
I am Coming for You: A Letter to Scin
Late Night Satisfaction
Making M Squirt
Sir ~ intro
The Flash Fiction Friday FAQ!
We fucked, they applauded
Where there is a libido, there is a way
Wicked Wednesday: Idyll
Thoughts & Advice on Sex & Relationships
20 Reasons Why Sex Is Good
Hurt me, Pet
I Was Raped
Red Flags of an Abusive Partner, Part 2
Restrictions and Satisfaction
Someone Else’s Shoes
Sex Isn’t Everything
The Art of Sensual Touching-Caressing for You and Your Partner
The STI You Haven’t Heard of: Molluscum contagiosum
Vibrant Woman or Live Masturbation Sleeve
What I Don’t Need
Kink & Fetish
A Little Girl’s Need for Submission
Are You Done Yet?
A Reformatory Punishment
BDSM Advice Series: Floggers
Determined to bind
I Really Wasn’t In The Mood
Pain and Healing
Questions From DH About These Things We Do
Sub Drop: Fact or Fiction?
Tiiu Ashcraft – Fetish Artist and Beauty
The Eroticism of Tattoos
Wanting to want
Sex News, Interviews, Politics & Humor
Image: Babe Lincoln