Tag Archives: Pornography

General Observations: That Evil Porn!

I was on the Reader the other day at the bottom of someone’s blog I’d just finished reading, I saw an… excerpt? – of a blog that got my attention because of the picture of Chris Rock and then the excerpt that said – and I’m paraphrasing here – that he’s one of a bunch of celebrities who are against porn and, I dunno, suggesting that people don’t watch it.

The bad part is that by the time I realized I should have read it, I had left the page and couldn’t find it when I went back to look for it. Mea culpa. But it did get me thinking about it and while porn is once more high on the list of evil things people can indulge in.

We know that porn has been around since like forever and as evidenced by a lot of art that comes from some of the oldest cultures and I’m sure there are a lot of people who are familiar with the Kama Sutra which is up there in the rankings of “best books ever written” but is also a good candidate for being porn since, um, it tells you and even illustrates how to put A into B, C, and D.

History shows that the Victorian Age, a point in time where there was a major shift in things sexual, was rife with porn despite a rather prudish mindset about sex or a totally fucked up mindset, depending on how you care to look at it. Even the more modern sexual revolution of the mid-to-late 1960s, where the watchword was, “If it feels good, do it!” was also flush with porn aka “dirty books” and stuff that many in my generation were very familiar with because they were probably our first, real exposure to sex and not just always in the preferred method.

We have always had a love/hate relationship with porn and there’s been an uproar about porn these days and one driven by women who feel that porn objectifies them even more than they’re already objectified and, ladies, don’t get me wrong here but it’s a point of view I happen to agree with given that it portrays women in a light that my own experiences with y’all says is a bunch of fantasy-laden bullshit interlaced with a lot of truth because, yeah, like it or not, some women do love having sex that way… and maybe it’s also because porn suggests – or heavily suggests – that this is the way they’re supposed to have sex.

What gets overlooked is how men are also objectified and stereotyped, something that as a Black man, I am all too familiar with and something that even I find both amusing and irritating at turns but, yeah, it is what it’s always been.

I’d never say that porn doesn’t cause problems – it has always caused problems because just like we have a love/hate relationship with porn, we’ve always had one about sex – period. We know that people have sex and some of my favorite people are those who have sex… and go out of their way to deny that they do even though, um, some of them have a house full of children. We’ve always been… prudish about sex; it’s private and personal and it’s considered to be in very poor taste to even talk about sex… and that includes talking about it with the person you’re having sex with.

We do it but we don’t wanna talk about it and we sure as shit don’t want to see other people having sex while, at the same time, uh, um, well, what’s it gonna hurt to take a peek? It’s like that terrible, multi-vehicle accident: You don’t want to look at the carnage but you can’t stop yourself from looking just the same.

I’ve seen a lot of stuff written about the evils of porn from both men and women, read stuff about how many people are addicted to it and its ruinous effects and impacts on “normal” sexual behaviors but it’s like I said: These objections have always been around since the first complaint about porn was issued and, again, I can’t think of a time since I’ve been around that porn wasn’t vilified. One of the usual complaints come from women who can’t understand why their guy has to spend any time looking at it and yanking on their dick or, worst, those guys who get an eyeful of some staged sexual act and get it into their heads that they should try what they’ve viewed on their woman and a woman who is, by her very nature, not that big of a fan of sex in the first place – and, no, I’m not talking about those gals who’d eagerly say, “Sure – let’s try that!” and y’all know who you are.

I actually read something the other day where a guy was writing about how his wife digs in his ass about his watching porn and masturbating (and a lot, I assume) and saying that he had no reason at all to masturbate because it was her job to provide him sex… except that’s not what she was doing or not doing to his satisfaction. It’s not really porn’s fault that guys masturbate to it – it’s just a medium that provides us with a level of visualization that makes masturbating… more pleasurable and more so if we can see other folks having sex in ways that we’ve never had it or our imaginative fantasies are “made real” and in high definition.

With or without porn, um, guys have always liked getting themselves off but, yep, it’s been documented and even admitted to by some men that masturbating to porn has ruined them for “regular and normal” sex and it makes sense given porn’s ability to take sex and crank it up to near unimaginable levels. You’ve probably seen me write many times that porn is art trying to imitate life but in a very exaggerated way. It’s staged, scripted, edited and, to the dismay of many, very real since, you know, you can see people doing shit that, as an individual, you may find exciting or disgusting.

One of my pet peeves is gay porn and how so many bisexual men look at it, not wholly because of that “men are visually sexual” way but using it as a primer to learn how to deal with a dick. It causes a disconnect for a lot of guys because, on the one hand, if you can see a thing being done, you can do that thing but tends to bypass some obvious stuff, like, is it really that easy to walk into a room, make a guy bend over, and shove a ten-inch cock into his ass?

No, it isn’t… but porn will make you believe that it is. Do you really believe that women in general are head over heels to have, say, three enormously endowed Black men laying the pipe to them and in every orifice they have? I hope not but porn will make you believe that this is every woman’s dream when, in fact, it’s a nightmare for the average woman. Sure, girlfriend might think about it… but would never do it just because it looks like fun.

Still not talking about those ladies who happen to know that it’s fun. But it begs a question, doesn’t it? If porn is once again being vilified and some of our cherished celebrities are speaking out against it, the question is why. A lot of blame is placed on the Internet, which has made all kinds of porn available with one click of a mouse (or a tap with a finger if ya got a touchscreen device); back in my day, the only way you could get your hands on a dirty book was to steal them from your parents and, get this: Ya might wanna blame Dad for having such a stockpile of porn (and you’d be right about that) but, um, ya gotta know he wasn’t the only parent with a secret stash of stuff that could be considered as porn, like all those “romance” novels that many women love to read, even today.

There are those who say and suggest that if we were more open to having sex with each other, it would greatly diminish the need for things pornographic to exist. Others says that were we, as a species, of a mind to not be so parochial and even immature about sex, bleh, porn just might find itself on a shelf gathering a lot of dust. The reality is that stuff like this ain’t likely to happen any time soon; women aren’t going to stop feeling wrongfully objectified and men, well, shit, we’re not gonna stop choking our chicken even if porn gets abolished for all time.

And you gotta know how people are: If you tell them, implore them, and even demand that they not partake of anything that remotely resembles pornography, it’s gonna get partaken of… just because society says not to. Porn was more of a DL kind of thing; you knew it existed but access to it was limited and even illegal in some places – not to mention religiously immoral to read, watch, or hear of people having all kinds of mad, crazy sex… and just because it’s mad, crazy sex.

Indeed, many of the forms of sex we “normally” enjoy are, in fact, legally illegal, from sodomy to oral sex – and even between married folks. Many of these laws are still on the books but are also deemed to be unenforceable unless, um, you and the little lady are on the side of the road and going at each other lustily and hungrily and a police officer happens to tap on your steamed up windows and catches you in the act. Otherwise, we hold true that what one does in the privacy of their own home (or some other private place) is nobody’s business; that nosy and prudish neighbor might call the cops because she heard your man yelling, “Yeah, suck my dick, baby! Suck it!” or she’s screaming at the top of her lungs, “Eat/fuck your pussy, baby! Tear it up!”

And the cops can’t do shit about it other than to knock on your door and tell you to keep the noise down. I know… you’re thinking or saying to yourself, “That’s different!” Except, um, having sex is, in and of itself, pornographic, if you really think about it – you just don’t have a million XTube viewers watching you go at each other.

Whether porn is a good or bad thing is something best left to individual points of view. A lot of people are very much aware that porn is just some improbable, corny, and predictable bullshit but, um, sure, it’s still kinda in our nature to want to see other people having sex even if it’s sex we’d not do and I’ve heard of people watching it so that they’re informed of whatever it is they’re not gonna do or, I guess like many people actually do, they’re looking at the kinds of sex that they have reason not to ever engage in. It can be problematic and porn sends all kinds of bad messages, invokes way too many stereotypes, so on and so forth.

It does a number on women, impacting their self-esteem and makes them as nervous as a long-tailed cat in a room full of rocking chairs because porn paints a target on them as sexual objects and, again, ladies, I don’t disagree with this but at the risk of pissing y’all off, you were always sexual objects and specifically designed to be one but, sure, even as a man, I get it: You want to be wanted for more than sex or, perhaps, really, you don’t mind being wanted for sex as long as it’s not the first (and only) thing on the list… and porn takes your sensibilities about things sexual and just trashes them.

I don’t know what Chris Rock and any other celebrities hope to accomplish by speaking out against porn. They can speak out against it because they can speak out against it but at the end of the day, money talks; the porn industry is like a multi-billion dollar industry that employs a shitload of people, from the “models” who are either stimulating or disgusting you to the people behind the scenes who make it possible for you to point and click and even make some money because ya wanna point and click.

Legal entities are cracking down on porn and doing their best to regulate it and in as many ways possible including what kinds of porn is legal to watch – and I think we all know what kind is very illegal. Those legal entities could, if they get enough votes, make all of it illegal while levying heavy-duty fines and terms of imprisonment but given the capitalistic nature of things, well, that’s a lot of money to turn their backs on in terms of taxation, operating fees, etc..

And they know that even if such legislation passed, porn will just go back underground… and just as it has in the past.


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Anatomy of a Dirty Book

Okay, I’ve actually been thinking about this for a couple of days now, which is kinda telling but we’re not going there.  For anyone just tuning in, I found this site that has the old-fashioned “dirty books” that perhaps a lot of guy and gals my age used to swipe from our parents and, for some, it was a better “how-to” sex manual than a sex ed class… and no wonder some of us don’t know how to have sex, huh?

Anyway, I’ve been riffing about these old books… but I noticed something about them that, understandably, I didn’t give a shit about when I was all into my father’s stash back in the day:  They are so stereotypical and about as improbable as almost anything that’s considered fiction can be.  So, since “Iron Chef (Japan)” wasn’t in its usual 2300 hours time-slot, check this out:

  • All about white folks, although I don’t think I remember seeing one that wasn’t just about our Caucasian brothers and sisters – but I’ll come back to this in a little while so stay tuned.
  • The family ones are usually a father, a mother, a brother – maybe two – and a sister – or two.  I’ve seen variations on this theme but this seems to be classic.
  • They’re either dirt poor, over-privileged, middle-class, and live out in the middle of nowhere or anywhere that resembles civilization, usually some small, nondescript town with, seemingly, a population of about five or six other people – usually babysitters.
  • The fathers are either drunkards or hard-working blue collar types, with the occasional business owner tossed in.
  • The mothers are all homemakers or otherwise not gainfully employed; if not a wife, they’re widows.
  • If they have two sons, one’s a big-time football player, the other’s a dweeb and, like, plays tennis or is a bookworm.
  • If they have two daughters, one’s the slutty prom queen type, the other, well, not sure what to say about her – let’s call her a dweeb as well until I can think of something more accurate.
  • All the males, regardless of age, body type, etc., have unbelievably huge cocks, like horses and other large animals should be ashamed of themselves.
  • All the women have either really tiny breasts or gazonkas that qualify for the fictional Guinness Book of Records.  All have hairy pussies, are either blond or brunette – with the occasional redhead tossed in just to mix it up… and they all have such tight, wet pussies with clits of indeterminate sizes that shoe horns might be required and used.
  • The parents are either unbelievable sex maniacs or they’re having, um, marital relations problems or they’re totally clueless to the point where you wonder how they had children to begin with.  The widows haven’t had sex since their husband died, usually in years; same with the occasional widower that shows up from time to time.
  • If two sons, one is fucking everything that’s breathing and the other barely knows where his dick is, let alone what else it can be used for other than taking a piss.
  • If two daughters, one is either fucking everything that’s breathing or looking to get fucked for the first time; she’ll pet and tease but is too chaste do to anything beyond that despite the burning desire to give it up; the other daughter is either over-developed for her age or just realized what all those bumps on her body are for.

Okay, so you have the picture.  Now, as a writer of erotica, I can get a family like this into more trouble than they can shake a stick at and, apparently, these early authors of porn attempted to do the same thing… but.  What’s had me laughing my ass off is just how totally un-fucking-believable the action is when it gets going.  In the one I’m speed-reading through, first off, somebody screwed the pooch on the title; it says, “Five-way…” when there are clearly six people in it:  Mom, Dad, a brother, a sister, an uncle, and a female cousin.

Okay, here we go:  Daughter is a slut, gets busted by the cops and faces an angry father; daughter pretty much says shit to her father that, in real life, probably does happen… but would most likely get her killed where she stood.  I mean, if my daughter got in my face and told me, “Yeah, I’m a slut and I love getting fucked!” she would have died.  Anyway, daughter is pissed off because the cops busted up the back-seat deal at the drive-in and while she got to suck some kid off, she didn’t get laid… so she decides to jump her brother’s bones – yes, he’s a student-athlete who, as always, is minding his own business.

He protests like a little bitch at her advances, telling her in one paragraph that he can’t have sex with his sister – with the parents in the house, mind you – and, two paragraphs later, she’s giving him a blowjob that a professional hooker would envy and, um, all of a sudden, he’s not complaining much.  He’s got a dick like a baseball bat but she apparently has no problems deep-throating him – and I say this because, a few paragraphs later – and after he tries to diss her after getting sucked off, she’s complaining that she can’t take all of him in her tight, wet pussy… but it gets handled… some kind of way and I don’t remember reading about a shoe horn, lube, or the Jaws of Life being employed.

That’s one down.  Meanwhile, while this is taking place, the uncle – not sure whose brother he is – is not only living in a cottage on the property but his first scene is him nailing his daughter, who’s really overjoyed about getting nailed in a very unparental kind of way and, he, too, is of the baseball bat-sized dick and disproportionately sized scrotum and this daughter would put a whore to shame with her level of skill and ability – and makes her older, sluttier cousin look like a rank amateur by comparison.

Bear with me – this gets better. I’ll back up a little and tell you that both the brother and uncle don’t seem to suffer from refraction at all; they get their rocks off by a blowjob of epic proportions and are rock hard again in a couple of eye-blinks or when the girls say, “Eat my pussy!”  Boing!

Mom is in her bedroom masturbating – they do that a lot in these books, by the way – and while she says that the sex with her husband has always been good, eh, not so much at this point.  Enter the son from school; he’s thinking about nailing his slut sister again, walks right into his mother’s room – without knocking – catches Mom ya-yaing the sisterhood; she goes totally prude on him, he gets a boner, and Mom’s doing the dirt… while protesting through it all.

Son leaves mom totally sated, goes looking for slut sister; but now they don’t wanna do it in the house ’cause Mom’s home, which didn’t stop them the day before.  They go to a “secret” place on the property near the cottage their uncle lives in – they get to scrumping in the bushes; uncle hears them, is stunned by what he sees – why I have no fucking idea since he’s nailing the shit out of his own little girl – and breaks up the illicit scene; sends them home, tells his niece to come back so he can tell her what she did wrong.

Right.  Real world, they’re both dead.  Anyway, she comes back because she’s afraid he’ll tell her father, who has already promised to not get her the car he promised and consigns herself to her “fate worse than death” while wondering what it would be like to fuck her uncle; he’s scolding her and getting diamond-hard in the process; she sees his baseball bat and, yup, it’s on… even though the uncle’s now protesting against it… even though he made up the excuse to see her so he could fuck her to begin with… and that’s because his own slut daughter is somewhere, probably looking for the other people in their town, I guess.

Highly improbable sex happens – along with the usual dialog that, in real life, doesn’t happen like that but since this is a book – and to help with visualization – you’re reading this blow-by-blow dialog of what the author’s already writing about – go figure.  Anyway, uncle promises not to rat her out for both transgressions as long as, of course, he gets to nail her again.

Next day, daughter comes home, catches Dad lying in bed sleep; brother’s not home, uncle is helping daughter find the other people in the town – no idea where her mother is.  Dad has an even bigger dick – I’m thinking rhino-sized – and he’s so out of it that not only does she snatch his dick out of his underwear but she’s giving him one of her world class blowjobs even as she realizes that, um, maybe that’s not a good idea.  He wakes up and catches her – raises nineteen kinds of hell and backhands her; doesn’t dissuade her.  She goes back to blowing him; he’s protesting – yeah, right – and cuts loose enough sperm in one release to repopulate all of Europe, Asia, and South America three times over.  He’s shamed now… which doesn’t stop her from jumping on Dad’s amazingly now-erect penis and riding him to glory; he goes from, “We can’t do this!” to “Ride my dick, baby!” in less than a sentence.

At that point, I had to stop reading… because I was too busy laughing to myself to go any further.  Okay, y’all, this is what’s known as “jerk-off material” so having a storyline that make sense, well, doesn’t make sense.  The writer’s whole point is to take a situation and throw you right into some improbable bullshit.  This isn’t to say that incest doesn’t happen… I doubt very seriously it happens as depicted in this old, out-of-publication book, which was written in 1983, if I remember correctly.

I mean, come on – seriously?  You kinda have to read some of the shit in between the “action” so maybe the male mind is so anticipating what’s going to happen that he’s not really paying attention to how they got to this point, like, the son isn’t likely to be chastising his sister while she’s blowing his brains out.  Big macho stud is as easy as a $2 whore – but I also get that “no means no” doesn’t work as it does in the real world because all these characters always seem to say no… while they’re getting their freak on.

Just amazing how a bunch of people can go from being totally naive to being able to rewrite the Kama Sutra, huh?

I was like, “I can’t believe I used to jerk off to this shit when I was a kid!”  And keep in mind, folks, I write this stuff in my spare time!  For a moment, I actually felt bad that I practiced my stealth skills at my father’s expense for a cheap thrill that’s really not as thrilling as it appears.  It bothers me, in a way, in how stereotypical these things are and gives one the impression that white folks are some really bad people; they can’t raise their children with any kind of morals, can’t control them worth a damn, and are easily seduced by them, the whole nine yards.  White kids have zero scruples and, by and large, will fuck anything breathing, male or female – never seems to matter, although a lot of these books are heterosexual where men are concerned – although they do look at each other’s dicks while worrying about appearing to be gay – and homosexual where the girls are concerned – but they’re girls so that’s okay.

By the way, while I don’t remember one of these books every being solely about any non-whites, it must be noted that if you think all the men in these stories are stupidly hung, the “small” role Blacks and Hispanics have played in these books makes those well-hung white guys look like they’re all needle-dicked bug fuckers – use your imagination on this one – but that always seem to exclude Italian men, for some reason, which is probably why you don’t see them too often in these books.  It all feeds into that “Mandingo” thing that tends to make me nuts because while it’s true some of us are hung like you wouldn’t believe, it’s not all of us – trust me on this one.

Extremely huge dicks are preferred by women, stupidly humongous tits are preferred by men – any of this sounding familiar?

Dysfunctional?  Are you kidding me?  Those early authors redefined the word!  Like I laughingly said, they all seem to start out “normal” enough… then the shit happens and, whoops, someone left a window open because all of their morals just went out the closest one and easily… stupidly easy… unbelievably, stupidly easy.  Oh, and they all end happily and none of the women ever get pregnant even though condoms are never used… but aren’t unheard of but, eh, who needs condoms, right?

I know it’s me, just as I know that I’m, um, biased toward the way I write this stuff; as I’ve said, I want people to wonder, “Did this really happen?” and if they’re ya-yaing and chicken choking, that works, too.  Yeah, this is classic porn at its best… or worst, take your pick.  What you rarely see is male bisexuality or even outright gays; I’m sure there were some books written along these lines but I’ve actually only seen one – and the name of it had me scratching my head:  “Slave Chicken Brother.”

Okay, I know the “chicken” part of it means something – I’m just baffled at what since this was written before I honed my stealth skills and I’ve not looked up the reference – yet.  This one has three brothers, they all sleep in the same room – must be one really big room – and the inference is that you get three horny boys in the same place, guess what’s gonna happen?  The older one co-opts the middle kid – he’s totally against getting nailed by his brother but, what the hell, ain’t nothing else to do in the middle of the night, right?  The youngest is watching them, gets caught watching and now it’s two on one – but he’s not minding this at all.  Oh, and the oldest is 19 which kinda doubles his crime against his minor-aged brothers – anyway.

The brother’s are happily doing their thing in what I’d have to say is a classic stereotype:  The oldest is getting sucked and fucking asses but ain’t returning any favors – but, you see, he’s got this girlfriend who ain’t putting out…  The middle kid is getting the business from the oldest and who winds up, at first, being a spectator as big brother does his thing to little brother… except Dad busts in and catches the oldest dick deep in the youngest.  Ya think murder is about to be committed, right?  Well, yes and no.  Dad flips out and starts beating the shit out of the oldest boy – then decides to give him a taste of his own medicine and, nope, big brother, all tough and macho, is now like some little bitch as he’s raped by a father with the telephone pole-sized dick who doesn’t seem to suffer from refraction either – amazing how that happens.

Dad rapes son every night until son runs away from home to marry the chick who wouldn’t screw him – just takes his football scholarship and gets ghost – and now it’s the middle kid’s turn to be punished after conveniently getting busted and, this kid eventually takes his basketball scholarship and gets in the wind… leaving little brother to Dad’s tender mercies and, yup, he’s loving it, turns out to be a gay tennis player who can’t seem to get his jollies unless he’s being totally brutalized and in ways that made me wince – and I’ve seen some shit.

I had to stop reading that one, too – it was just too fucking funny to be taken even moderately serious.  I know these books were written for adults… but maybe they should have been written for teens and pre-teens because I’m thinking that, to most adults, they don’t make a lot of sense… even though they’re probably not supposed to.

I mean, really; you mean to tell me that a girl can go from chaste virgin one moment, world-class whore the next and with all the skills required to be one… after getting fucked just one time?  Boys who’ve never even seen a naked woman before go from being totally clueless in one moment and develop a knowledge of the female form that would make a gynecologist blush in a couple of paragraphs?

I think the thing that gets my own goat is that, way, way back in the day, I was just too stupid to understand the nuances – it was just some exciting shit to read and beat off to, fuck plots, story lines or even that what I was reading, hmm, some of it was downright impossible.

They “reinforce” a bad stereotype:  All guys walk around with their dicks hard all the time, all the girls need a “Sham-Wow” lining their panties for all their incessant juiciness.  All white families are totally and irrecoverably dysfunctional; I doubt that the finest psychological minds of our time could help these people if they were real.

And maybe it’s a good thing they’re not, huh?  All through every story I’ve flipped through, they’re constantly reminding each other that, nope, we’re not supposed to be doing this… all while they’re doing it?  Matter of fact, that’s probably what the allure was back in the day when they were originally written, huh?  This stuff was written for adult males with morals containing amoral situations that, depending on who you talk to, shouldn’t even be thought about, let alone anything else.  I’d even go as far to say that despite trying to keep this stuff out of the hands of non-adults, they probably knew kids would get their hands on it and – yay! – it’s chicken choking time.

Hell, I’m surprised my father didn’t get wise to my, um, midnight requisitioning of his stash – and if he knew, he didn’t say anything.  Likewise, I always wondered if he ever noticed that (1) some of his books were missing and (2) were often replaced with titles that he may not have acquired himself?  Yep, me and the fellows used these things like playing cards!  I do remember once seeing my father looking through his stash and picking up one book.  He looked at the cover and I heard him say, “Where the fuck did this come from?”

Well, um, I knew where it came from since I put it there and I thought, okay, he’s gonna put 2 and 2 together and this isn’t going to go well for me and more so since I’d added it to his collection ten minutes before he discovered it – do I need to tell you what I was doing with this?  No?  Okay.  I sit nervously and quietly watching my father as he fans through the book, looks at the cover again – then shrugs and, with new book in hand, heads for the bathroom.

If you thought that was funny, you should have seen the look on his face the next day when he went to read the book again… and it wasn’t there… because I had traded it for two other books and now he’s trying to figure out where they came from.  This time, he did look at me and, of course, I was acting quite innocently and not letting him know that I knew he was staring hard at me – then I just as innocently look up, see him staring… and had the nerve to ask, “Is there something wrong, Dad?”

I knew he wasn’t going to say anything as long as my mother was puttering about and by the time she left for work, he’d forgotten all about it.  Many years later, he asked me about his “library” and, yeah, I should have fessed up, being a grown man now and all that… and you must be out of your mind if you think I did.  I looked him dead in his eyes and, with a straight face said, “Books?  What books?  Your mystery books?”

“Oh, those kinds of books?  Nah, Dad, I never knew you had any of those – you didn’t, did you?  I mean, if you did, well, you’re a grown man and all that but I have no idea what you’re talking about; I never saw one until I was old enough to buy them myself…”

Maybe he bought it – but I’m thinking he didn’t… because if my sons had told me that, I wouldn’t have believed it for a moment.  And “chicken” meant what I thought it did – it’s a reference to young gay men…

Since I’ve gone right off the deep end again, do you know what a “Mexican avalanche” is?  I just found out… and I can’t stop laughing.  Even funnier, go to the Urban Dictionary and look up “wolf pussy;” that one always cracks me up…


Posted by on 4 October 2011 in Life, Living and Loving


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Finding Strength in my Submission

Mature audience only, 18+ NSFW...kinky sex & spankings ahead!

Acquiescent Soul

Internal Perspective

Katya Evangeline

From Missionary to Sex Preacher and Loving It!

Domestic Discipline, Jenny style!

Unconventional journey to unimaginable fulfillment.


by Hannah

Hopeful Heartache

Ramblings about life, relationships, anxiety, depression, and questions.

SeXXy Julie

Sordid Sex Stories & Erotica of a Cougar

Temperature's Rising

Still hot. (It just comes in flashes now.)


Random thoughts from a random mind


Writing about recovery.

Wake Up- Get Up- Stand up

"We the People" need to stand together.

The Watering Hole

Where everyone comes to quench their thirst for insight to life's challenging questions.


Parts Of My Life

Date A Bisexual

Love the one you love


The Wise Serpent

a worried whimsy

bouncing between happy and anxious

The Self-Actualized Life

Have a fulfilling life sexually and every other way!

Larry Archer's World (

------ Erotica from the dirty mind of Larry Archer


is there a path to a successful open marriage?


The silent inside of an anonymous Indian rebelling against society

The (Bi)te

The uninteresting world of a young bisexual girl


What Perspective Matters Most Depends on Your Perception


Just my random thoughts and meanderings... I'll try to keep you entertained


when and why size matters


I write when the choice is to die if I don't

My SEXuality

Why am I afraid to tell you who I'am?

Confessions of a Cheating Housewife

...because love just isn't enough ;)

Apparently I Don't Exist

The Many Adventures of a Bisexual Genderqueer