Category: sex

She-Male Threatens Florida

elvis1 Comment

Ok so I keep seeing this headline on CNN.com: TS Rita gains muscle to threaten Florida …And sure, I know they mean Tropical Storm. But hell, we all fucking know TS stands for TranSexual. So this rita, she’s some big, muscular tranny, threatening Florida. Um. You know, that’s kinda hot.

Ok so I keep seeing this headline on CNN.com:

TS Rita gains muscle to threaten Florida

…And sure, I know they mean Tropical Storm. But hell, we all fucking know TS stands for TranSexual.

So this rita, she’s some big, muscular tranny, threatening Florida.

Um. You know, that’s kinda hot.

Birkin Therapy

elvis4 Comments

Ok. So enough angry politics for a moment. I need to take a deep breath and enjoy some Pretty Girl Therapy. This would be Jane Birkin, and it would be courtesy of a wonderfully eclectic 60’s color gallery at discosantigos.com (via BoingBoing, of course). Here’s another favorite. There. I feel a little better. And if […]

Ok. So enough angry politics for a moment. I need to take a deep breath and enjoy some Pretty Girl Therapy.

Jane Birkin 04

This would be Jane Birkin, and it would be courtesy of a wonderfully eclectic 60’s color gallery at discosantigos.com (via BoingBoing, of course).

Here’s another favorite.

Jane Birkin 10-1

There. I feel a little better. And if that doesn’t do it, I’ll go for this or this or this or this or this or this or maybe this

Categories: sex

who needs sleep, anyway?

elvisLeave a comment

I’m getting on to that fog state where I’m sleepy and wired; I fall asleep when I’m watching TV but can’t sleep when I get in bed. I need to do some one some violence, but it needs to be, you know, the good hurt kind of violence.
,

I swear I haven’t slept more than three hours any night the last week.

I’m getting on to that fog state where I’m sleepy and wired; I fall asleep when I’m watching TV but can’t sleep when I get in bed.

I need to do someone some violence, but it needs to be, you know, the good hurt kind of violence.

Soon, if this keeps going, I’ll get to the hallucination phase. That’s where it gets entertaining.

I dunno what the fuck it is. Ok, well, that’s not true, completely. Some of it’s the cocktail of stress my life has become the last few months; new speed bumps in my road, old speed bumps come back. The usual, only more. And there’s the low-grade mental and physical health shit that comes with that; not getting enough exercise, drinking too much, thinking about sex and escape all day and not having the time or energy or whatever for enough of either.

The wonder of it all is that I have not been sick, really sick, in almost a year. With kids in school, I’m used to having at least two major colds and a sinus infection every winter.

But it all adds up to no sleep. I managed to get myself on a school schedule last week, driving my kids to early day camps, and my clock’s set for early wake-up already; yet my sleep-time clock (damn, I keep typing that as ‘cock’ – see where my brain is at?) is still set for well past midnight no matter how I try to get it earlier.

I need to channel is all into something. I need to get back to the gym and start pumping iron, I need to get my bicycle tuned up so I can ride it (21 gears don’t help much when the front derailleur won’t shift). And I need to get my head off of things I want but can’t have. I need to get back to living in the here-and-now.

Or I need to go back to using narcotics.

Who needs a good spanking? I need to take out a little something on you. Now, not fair offering if you’re far away and can’t travel.

[made with ecto]

I’d know you better if you were naked

elvis2 Comments

Ever have a moment where you look at someone and they look familiar, and you think, if you were naked, I would know. Or is that just me? It’s been a few times lately. My friend Andrea waits tables at a local, upscale restaurant, a wine and cocktails type bistro. She often comes over to […]

Ever have a moment where you look at someone and they look familiar, and you think, if you were naked, I would know.

Or is that just me?

It’s been a few times lately.

My friend Andrea waits tables at a local, upscale restaurant, a wine and cocktails type bistro. She often comes over to my house after work with friends and co-workers, so I have several times wound up in the hot tub with naked, inebriated restaurant staff.

I was sitting at the bar one night, my bachelor week a couple weeks ago. I was sipping dirty martinis and people-watching; writing a story in my head that was being narrated by someone very like Marv in Sin City.

I was also watching waitresses. I love waitresses. And I kept thinking, I know that one girl but I could not dig up how.

It hit me. I think I’ve seen her naked. I could remember her full, luscious breasts.

If I could get her undressed, I thought, I could be sure.

Then there was another friend. I’ve seen her web cam photos, but when I met her in person, she was dressed. I didn’t recognize her at all. Thne later, in the hot tub, I realized, I’ve seen those tits before. And it hit me. I’d know you if you were naked.

The last time was, of course, another waitress. A mexican joint not far from me. I used to eat there weekly, but not so much in the last year, for no reason other than shifts in dining habits. They have a new waitress, and as usual, I took a liking to her on first site. She looks youngish, brunette. Short, with great thighs in a too-short skirt. Pierced nose, pony tail. She smiled at me in a way that made me want to growl.

And I kept thinking, I know this girl.

In fact I don’t, I finally realized what it was. She looks like a combination of a couple women. A stripper from some club I was at not long ago, and a girl I’ve seen on a porn web site. My brain fused them together and this cute little waitress was just similar enough that she pinged my sense of familiarity. And again, I had that thought. If you were naked, I’d know how I know you.

Maybe it’s just that I know bodies better than I know clothes. People I’ve seen naked a lot, I know in my mind’s eye every mole and scar and curve, every hair. Close friends, I could not tell you what they had on the last time I saw them, but I could tell you exactly what bruises they had the last time I saw them naked.

Wearing nothing is devine, naked is a state of mind
I take things off to clear my head to say the things I haven’t said
I live inside the elements the the earth and sky are my best friends
Water is the evidence that washes me from end to end

Categories: sex

I’d know you better if you were naked…

elvisLeave a comment

Ever have a moment where you look at someone and they look familiar, and you think, if you were naked, I would know. Or is that just me? It’s been a few times lately. My friend Andrea waits tables at a local, upscale restaurant, a wine and cocktails type bistro. She often comes over to […]

Ever have a moment where you look at someone and they look familiar, and you think, if you were naked, I would know.

Or is that just me?

It’s been a few times lately.

My friend Andrea waits tables at a local, upscale restaurant, a wine and cocktails type bistro. She often comes over to my house after work with friends and co-workers, so I have several times wound up in the hot tub with naked, inebriated restaurant staff.

I was sitting at the bar one night, my bachelor week a couple weeks ago. I was sipping dirty martinis and people-watching; writing a story in my head that was being narrated by someone very like Marv in Sin City.

I was also watching waitresses. I love waitresses. And I kept thinking, I know that one girl but I could not dig up how.

It hit me. I think I’ve seen her naked. I could remember her full, luscious breasts.

If I could get her undressed, I thought, I could be sure.

Then there was another friend. I’ve seen her web cam photos, but when I met her in person, she was dressed. I didn’t recognize her at all. Thne later, in the hot tub, I realized, I’ve seen those tits before. And it hit me. I’d know you if you were naked.

The last time was, of course, another waitress. A mexican joint not far from me. I used to eat there weekly, but not so much in the last year, for no reason other than shifts in dining habits. They have a new waitress, and as usual, I took a liking to her on first site. She looks youngish, brunette. Short, with great thighs in a too-short skirt. Pierced nose, pony tail. She smiled at me in a way that made me want to growl.

And I kept thinking, I know this girl.

In fact I don’t, I finally realized what it was. She looks like a combination of a couple women. A stripper from some club I was at not long ago, and a girl I’ve seen on a porn web site. My brain fused them together and this cute little waitress was just similar enough that she pinged my sense of familiarity. And again, I had that thought. If you were naked, I’d know how I know you.

Maybe it’s just that I know bodies better than I know clothes. People I’ve seen naked a lot, I know in my mind’s eye every mole and scar and curve, every hair. Close friends, I could not tell you what they had on the last time I saw them, but I could tell you exactly what bruises they had the last time I saw them naked.

Wearing nothing is devine, naked is a state of mind
I take things off to clear my head to say the things I haven’t said
I live inside the elements the the earth and sky are my best friends
Water is the evidence that washes me from end to end

Categories: sex

Sunny with a chance of Bad Santa

elvis7 Comments

Last year we had a small but excellent showing of filthy holiday stories I like to call Bad Bad Santa. I’m just sick enough to go back and do it again.

This is what you want call an early warning.

Last year we had a small but excellent showing of filthy holiday stories I like to call Bad Bad Santa.

I’m just sick enough to go back and do it again. So put your dirty thinking caps on.

Basically, there are few rules — stories need to be 1) dirty, 2) holiday themed. You can take on the jolly old elf like the rest of us did last time, you can besmirch Rudolph, Frosty, that wicked old Mrs Claus, the Grinch, even little Cindy Lou Who. Or you can take on another holiday and do unto the Easter Bunny or Cupid, or a holiday mashup like Jack Skelington and his crew.

Whatever.

Think on it. Let inspiration strike.

I’ll put out an official call later this summer and put up a drop box of some sort to collect them. Stories remain the author’s, I’m just gonna collect ’em up and feature the best ones.

Why can’t I write a fucking blowjob?

elvis17 Comments

You know, I can write a lot of things pretty easily…. I can write about cunnilingus, I can write a tender, loving, gentle scene full of love and caring.

You know, I can write a lot of things pretty easily. A sex scene, a fight, dialog. I can write about cunnilingus, I can write a tender, loving, gentle scene full of love and caring. I can write a violent non-consent scene.

You know, I don’t have much trouble with any of that.

But I can’t seem to write a fucking blowjob. I’ve been working on something for a week now, and I just can’t seen to get past one damned blowjob.

It’s a mystery, I tell ya.

We all have our little crushes

elvis34 Comments

I’ve got a crush.This is the sort of thing I do when I’m hung over and way short on sleep on a sunday afternoon….  This is where I hope for a baseball game, or if it’s teh right season, a hockey game.

I admit it. I’ve got a crush.

This is the sort of thing I do when I’m hung over and way short on sleep on a sunday afternoon. I turn on random things on teevee. This is where I hope for a baseball game, or if it’s the right season, a hockey game. But if I get skunked on all that, and I really just can’t get up off the fucking couch, I’ll wander aimlessly around the dial (aside – who actually remembers when teevees had dials and we had to get up to change channels?).

Usually this leaves me with a cooking show, or a documentary. Sometimes even a re-run of American Gladiators, but we’ll talk about that crush later.

Sunday, though, I stopped on a little thing called Xtreme4x4.

Now, I drive a jeep. But there’s really nothing ‘Xtreme‘ about it. I don’t do a lot of actual off-roading (I try, you know, but who has time). I don’t have it heavily customized. Who can afford it, and when most of it’s miles are road miles, what’s the point? But saturday I was out shopping for some nice new tires, and my head was all full of four wheelin’, so when I landed on Xtreme4x4 on Spike TV, my thumb rested on the remote control.

Now, I think this would have held my interest for five, ten minutes. Maybe a whole episode, but maybe not.

Only…

Jessi Combs..

Jessi Combs.

Now, these pictures all suck. The stupid bastards who did the web site think we want pictures of trucks. We don’t care about trucks. We care about Jessi. She’s way, way cuter than that when she’s moving.

She welds. She uses power tools. She customizes trucks. She has tattoos.

I Want Her.

Xt05-01200X125-1Xt06-04200X125-1Xt05-04200X125-1

Xt06-03200X125-1Xt06-02200X125-1

Xt0501-01200X125-1Xt0502-06 200X125-1