Thursday, 28 January 2010

21

It has been a celebratory week in the Boudoir. I am a Good Mother. I have successfully raised my offspring to adulthood, hale, hearty and whole.

There has been champagne, cake, balloons, cards, presents and parties. There has also been much reflection upon times past, the transition from 1989 to 2010, the differences between who we were then and the people we are now.

For the past 21 years I have been largely, sometimes wholly, focused on my daughter. She is the magnetic north to which my internal compass always swings. While I will always need to know that she is OK before I can be I know that the next 21 years will inevitably bring a distancing. She will have her own home, her own priorities, her own magnetic north. I will no longer know every little detail of her life from what she had for tea to whether she is still in the bath. This is right and natural and means I have done my job. I have not raised a social inadequate, hurrah!

I would be lying, though, if I said I didn't feel a nostalgic pang or two when I look at those gappy-toothed smiles in school photos past. When did this little girl become the confident, funny, beautiful young woman who strides through life in what looks suspiciously like my shoes? My work here is done. What next?

e[lust] #6 - your Wank Week Woundup

Frankly, you can stop reading now, as I'm not in the top three this week. I would do the "read more" cut thing to save you from having to over exert yourself scrolling to the bottom, but I can't be arsed to figure it out.

Proper post coming right up, I promise.

~ This Week’s Top Three Posts ~

Exposing My Self to Airport Security - I stared right at her until she looked away and called for assistance for a pat-down search. I gaped, chin dropped: holy shit, they're gonna give me a pat down cuz I'm packing a silicon cock.

Prefect’s Prerogative - When I neglect this duty, or don't perform it to his satisfaction, he makes me light a fire in his room, and stand in front of it in just my school shirt and white socks.

Attention Women: There is Something Wrong With Your Vagina - Yes, that’s what your vagina needs: a breath mint. Because, just like vagina shouldn’t smell like vagina, it also shouldn’t taste like vagina.

~ e[lust] Editress ~

The Perfect FatWhy do clothes designers assume that if you're plus-sized you're 1. over 5?9? and 2. over the age of 45 or “matronly and modest”? At the age of 32 I am not yet ready to dress like my grandmother.

~ Featured Post (Lilly’s Pick) ~

Zipless- “I have some Scotch in my room—maybe you’d join me? You know, in the interest of not drinking alone…” She smiled. Perhaps she could yet salvage the day’s ending.

See also: Pleasurists #61 for all your sex toy review needs.
Also in recent sex news, check out the coverage of the Adult Entertainment Expo that happened in Las Vegas a couple weeks ago. You’ll see videos and articles from our fellow sex-bloggers on fun things like a rodeo penis and new sex toys not even on the market yet!

Sex News, Interviews, Politics & Humor

Arousal is not consent
Psychosexual: Does the G spot exist? Do I care?
Reputable Help for Haiti
Squicked
That'll be 151 Nickels
The Case of the Mysteriously Vanishing G-spot
Transtastic: Joking About Being Trans
Vegas – Day One – Diva’s Quick Recap
Vegas – Day One – Tess’s Thoughts
Why Don’t They Just LEAVE?

Kink & Fetish

Anatomy of a Mindfuck
Bad Submissive
Claiming: Go Pantiless After
Dating Refresher
Electric fuck
Fetishes and me
Kinky With Class
Laziness never pays off
Piercing reversal
Resolution
Titty Fuck
The Coffee Date, Part 2
The Job Interview
Without Reason

Thoughts & Advice on Sex & Relationships

BDSM Relationship Advice for Newbies
Greedy For The Verse
Hang Ups and Hand Jobs
Ivy Madden
If she had just been a better wife…
Insomnia
Swinging
The Sexiness Beneath
Weightlessness

Erotic Writing

42DD
A Different Kind of Fuck
Across the Room
All in a Play Party’s Night
Amazing Night
Bedtime Story
Behind You
Breathe and Let Go
Done by a Clown
Evening Home
Glow
Lick You As Long As You Like
Moments of Clarity
Naughty Neighbor
Saturday Night’s Alright (For Swapping)
Sex and Video Games
Slip sliding away
The Slut Chronicles #11 ~ The Dinner Party
Thursdays
Tyler
Visitors in my Bedroom
Wicked Wednesday: Altitude
When you Talk About Maelee

Sunday, 24 January 2010

Low Status

There have always been those who suffer from moments of utter bleakness, those who can't see a way forward. Some go on to believe the world would be a better place without them, or, in the case of one acquaintance, that this life is just a stepping stone to the next level, and opt out of the game altogether. That acquaintance of mine gave no hint of what was on her mind, she just took a bottle of pills, locked herself in her car, in a sealed garage, and left the engine running. A real belt and braces job. She had set her outbox to send the explanatory emails long after she had left this world and joined the queue for the reincarnation she firmly believed in. She had no intention of being prevented from leaving.

In comparison there have always been those who threaten to kill themselves who actually just want some love and attention. From the mascara-streaked girls sobbing hysterically outside bad parties to the distraught young man shouting through the letterbox of his ex-girlfriend's house, we've all heard those cries of "I'll do it! I'll throw myself under the next bus!"

Recently I have noticed a new, technologically-enhanced slant to this. People who would, in the past, ruin a perfectly pleasant night out by getting drunk and faux-suicidal or pestering you with late-night anguished phone calls are now embracing the immediacy and audience of social networking sites and posting status updates along the lines of "Life is so dark. Eveything is shit. Tell me why I should go on living?"

I am a compassionate woman. If I thought for one moment they had any intention of doing themselves harm I would be on my way quicker than you can say razor blades. But I know that if they were seriously thinking of checking out they'd be unlikely to pop into Facebook first, to do a quick status update, let alone stick around to read and reply to all the comments.

As for arousing my concern the whole procedure is counterproductive. I read such updates and am instantly annoyed. I ignore them until they stop being attention-seeking twats. Their life may well suck right now. Mine isn't always a ride on rainbows to the sweet shop but I still consider it far too valuable to waste on talking people out of doing something they have no intention of doing in the first place.

I know what they really want is a hug. They know what they really want is a hug. I really wish they would just fucking ask for a hug. I'd give it, gladly.

Thursday, 21 January 2010

Space Hopper Sex Scandal Exclusive

International Top Sex Blogger Luka, 37, has been spotted cavorting in disreputable nightspots with the new playmate in her life, a large orange space hopper.

Our reporter caught up with bouncy Barbed Wire Boudoir babe Luka as she rode up to the bar for another pint of Pinot.

"I've never been happier," asserted Luka as she wobbled gently on her oversized rubber ball.

"Unlike some over-inflated egos I've bounced around with in my time, Spacey is smooth, fun and uncomplicated.

He also has ridged horns and a smile like mine.

What's not to love?

Mind you, he's crap at holding his drink."

Monday, 18 January 2010

Could it be Magic?

Today I keep thinking about people who have hurt me. The bastards.

Forgiveness is a fine thing. Bitterness only corrodes the vessel containing it. It is best to learn from such things and move on.

Yet still I find myself making vegetable voodoo dolls and visiting arse grapes upon them.

"Hemorrhoids, hemorrhoids, hemorrhoids," I incant, cackling madly to myself and affixing a bunch of seedless red to the parsnip doll's derriere.

Of course the whole thing is merely an exercise in venting emotion and can in no way cause actual harm. Or can it? If you've ever upset me and now can't sit down without wincing and reaching for your inflatable rubber ring do let me know!

Sunday, 10 January 2010

Squicked

"Did you like that?" he asked.

"Um...no. I was squicked by the sisterly love thing."

And just like that he went offline.

It had begun a short time earlier, with a detailed, and frankly suspect, tale of love in a jacuzzi with a couple of lovely ladies who fortuitously happened to be there.

I am used to men trying to impress, possibly seduce, me via the medium of bullshit. You can't write a sex blog - even a satirical anti-sex-blog - without the occasional email or chat session that ends up on the ferry to Fantasy Island. It is a rare and unusual man who can get me on board with him. Most make the mistake of assuming that simply offloading their desires on me is sufficient to engage my libido. They rattle off a list of I would like to do this, and then I would like to do that. Remarkably few bother to find out what I would like and, to be fair, those that do ask me what I really want right now usually get the reply "a bottle of wine and for you to fuck off".

This instance was no different. Why this particular would-be Lothario thought a female-male-female threesome was my bag, I don't know. It is a tediously common male fantasy of course. Still, I can work with it up to a point and see where the scenario leads. However, in this particular scene the females in question were allegedly sisters. Sisters who find themselves exploring the contents of his swimming trunks and finish their journey of discovery with some sisterly love of the oral variety. Which, unsurprisingly, squicked me entirely.

Why? Why oh why oh why would anyone think this could ever, ever appeal to me?

It's like those fantasies men - and women - have regarding twins. Yuck. I mean, how does that work? I couldn't even have sex in the same room as any other family member, let alone want to witness them in a sexual situation. Anything beyond that makes me want to scrub my brain in a bucket of bleach. Every strand of DNA in my body strains in the opposite direction, trying to get as far away from the threat of webbed feet and banjo music as possible.

Just for the record, for anyone else thinking of trying their hand at a bit of Luka-lovin', I am also squicked by sex involving kids, animals, shit, piss, dead people and the clinically thick.

Tuesday, 5 January 2010

Luka's Guide to Sexercise

Feeling a tad on the wobbly side after the excesses of the festive season? Finding yourself opting for elasticated waistbands and XXL underwear? Having to really crop those HNT/Facebook pics?

Well, worry not, for I have the perfect way to tone up and slim down whilst simultaneously engaging your erogenous zones in a whole new and exciting way.

"But Luka," I hear you cry, "sexercise is nothing new. Cosmopolitan has been going on about it for ages."

"Ah," I reply, "but no-one does sexercise like Luka does sexercise. My sexercise plan is guaranteed to work because A) it's great and B) you don't even need to find someone else to do it with. Yes. This is Solo Sexercise!"

That's right. Solo Sexercise. It's the best way to release those endorphins and burn off those excess calories without having to make conversation afterwards.

You will need:

A towel
Comfortable pants

The Warm Up

It is essential to limber up properly before attempting the positions described below. Believe you me, a pulled muscle in the groinal area is not something you want, unless walking like Igor with a hernia is your ultimate goal. I suggest you position your towel on a comfortable surface - the bed, the sofa, the bus seat - and assume a relaxed position. You can sit or lie down, whichever you prefer. Now clench your pelvic muscles. Clench them as if you are trying to suck a pencil up your bottom (if you are a sex blogger this will come easily to you. If you are not a sex blogger, keep practicing. Do NOT use an actual pencil, even if you have put an enormous gonk on the end of it.) Now relax. Repeat until you feel a warm glow.

The Workout

Position 1 - The Car Wash

Give your body a full on sensual massage with wide circular window washing movements. This is particularly effective while in the shower with a genuine sponge and lots of soap, but is just as entertaining when performed on the beach or stuck in a traffic jam. This really works the upper arms and cleavage.

Position 2 - The Doggy Scootch

In this position you emulate the classic bottom-along-the-floor manoeuvre beloved of dogs appearing in family portraits or in the background of local news footage or wedding videos. If you are on a chair or bus you can simply scootch back and forth, if you have the luxury of floor space you can see just how far you can travel before you succumb to friction burns. This gives a great workout to those gluteals and also really tests the elastic in your gusset.

Position 3 - The Fiddler Crab

Now your nether regions should be nicely warmed up and ready for the full benefits of solo sexercise. Simply place your hand inside your comfortable pants and have a good old rummage around. Once you find a rhythm that pleases you maintain it for as long as you can without disturbing anyone else in the house/on the bus/in the library. This should give you a powerfully muscled arm in time. You may want to alternate limbs.

Position 4 - The Fish Out of Water

If you have performed the preceding sexercises correctly you should find yourself flopping about and gasping for air in a most energetic manner. Your stomach, back and leg muscles should all be a-quiver.

The Cool Down

Readjust towel if necessary. Ditto comfortable pants. Stretch.