Contiguity Of An Imaginary Conversation

Simone De Beauvoir in her book Second Sex, states "One is not born a woman, one becomes one. " So the conjecture is, that the differences between the genders, trait wise, is subjugated not by genetics but rather by conditioning.

But what about matters of sex?

"Sex pleasure in woman is a kind of magic spell; it demands complete abandon; if words or movements oppose the magic of caresses, the spell is broken."

Well dammit Simone, for one who railed against Wollstonscraft for inferring that the ideal is for we women to be more like men, you're sounding a bit girly aren't you.

Why do women find different things acceptable and appealing, sex wise, then men? Why isn't the same porn, erotica and concepts not arousing to both sexes?

"Fairy Tales" was one answer I got, when asked this. I then asked "what do you mean?" His answer was thus:

"Men see sex as an act. Women see sex as extension of feeling. Fairytales compound this matter because woman buy into the whole Prince Charming crap. A Prince Charming would never say to his sexual partner du jour, "On your knees bitch, you filthy little slut" . He wouldn't pummel her ass and say "After this, I'm going to cum all over your face."

Putting it that way, it was hard to argue with this statement.

It would be however, kind of interesting to read or see Snow White as a dirty deviant. Then sternly asked to get on her knees, only to be fucked rigorously from behind with the finale being his cum dripping from her. BUT...then I thought about this a second.

That is very different from what HE actually said. I preferred Snow White, firmly told to get on her knees, him regarding her as a filthy minded and sexually adventurous. Forgetting entirely the slut and bitch part. I saw cum dripping off of her, not her face covered with his release.

I had finessed what he said as something acceptable for me. If a man heard the same thing would he process it exactly how he heard it?

Yet, I managed to retort back,

"But I don't see sex as extension of feeling exclusively. Woman can separate sex from emotion. "

"Doesn't matter, it's embedded in your brain, you will never think of sex as just an act."

"Well that's just bullshit, women don't HAVE to care or feel connection with someone to fuck, it's just the optimal preference. Is your probabilistic causation is that we can't accept certain sexual concepts because we are unconditioned to think that way or that we can't accept acts that seem insensitive?"

"Don't know, that's just how it is."

Maybe it is but I doubt it. There are so many questions relating to this. What IS degrading and demeaning titillation opposed to something that just needs to be "finessed" into something acceptable for both sexes. Do all men see sex as just an act and will women come around, see it the same way? Can you write Erotica that stimulates both men and women? I'll be working to solve these questions and more.

Naughty Old Blues for Your Sunday Evening Enjoyment

All tracks are available at iTunes.

The Dominoes - Sixty Minute Man

Wynonie Harris - Keep on Churnin(till the butter comes)

"keep on pumpin' make the butter flow....it takes good butter to make your daddy scream...we kept on pumpin the butter came jumping."

Connie Allen - Rocket 69

The 5 Royales - Laundromat Blues

Tiny Bradshaw - Big Ten Inch Record

"Got me the strangest woman
Believe it, this chick's no sinch
When I wanna get her goin'
Then I whip out my Big Ten Inch

Record of the band that plays the blues
Well the band that plays the blues
She just loved my Big Ten Inch
Record of her favorite blues

Last night I tried to tease her
I gave my love a little pinch
But she said now stop that jivin
now whip out your big ten-inch

Record of the band that plays the blues
Well the band that plays the blues
She just loved my Big Ten Inch
Record of her favorite blues

I'll cover her with kisses
and when we're in a lover's clinch
she gets all excited
when she puts on my big ten-inch

Record of the band that plays the blues
Well the band that plays the blues
She just loved my Big Ten Inch
Record of her favorite blues

My gal don't go smokin'
and liquor just makes her flinch
Seems she don't go for nothin'
'cept for my big ten-inch

Record of the band that plays the blues
Band that plays the blues
She just loved my Big Ten Inch
Record of her favorite blues"

Dorothy Ellis - Drill Daddy Drill
"He keeps drilling 'till the oil runs dry....You'll find oil on my land if you hold your drill firmly in your hand."

Margie Day - Take out Your False Teeth Daddy(which may be a good thing I couldn't post.) Track disturbingly funny and just not right. What can I say...I have a depraved sense of humor sometimes.

"Take your false teeth out daddy your mommy wants to scratch your gums. Oh they gonna feel good after I've rubbed them some. "

Untitled Part One (Revised)

Imagine taking that first bite of a warm gingerbread cookie. First, the smell of cinnamon and ginger hits you. Then, it melts slowly in your mouth. The flavor shocks your senses into overdrive. Next, as you move your tongue around trying to get every morsel out of every hidden crevice, you feel the sweet burn of it on your taste buds. That is until, instinct takes over and you swallow. It slides down your throat and you just want more bite.

This is how I thought of Jefferson Stevens.

Most people liked Jefferson. He was amiable, funny, witty and a good person. He wasn’t tall but by no means ill statued. Nor was he built like he went to the gym on a regular basis. Yet, his form was pleasing to me. His face expressed kindness due to the sparkle in his warm brown eyes that seem to glint when he gave a sincere smile. I adored that. I couldn’t help it. If he came in my vicinity, my hands would itch to get lost in his beautiful dark roasted coffee colored curls. Unfortunately, he barely knew I existed.

“Claire…Claire..hellooo.”

Dammit, my potbelly boss with silly skewed mustache interrupts me once again. Uncrossing my eyes, I focus on the idiot’s misplaced idea of facial hair, pretending as if I’m interested in what he has to say.

“Yes, Mr. Deevers.”

“Your smile has turned into a frown. Is it because you remembered that your report on the E.P.A violations by SBF Oil was due last Tuesday and today is Monday?

I inhaled my bottom lip, holding back the reply that he should rethink his abominable Burt Reynolds a la Smokey and the Bandit fashion statement that resided upon his upper lip. What was this man thinking? Why did his wife let him out the house like that? I exhaled my bottom lip and smiled curtly.

“Exactly what was on my mind. I can’t seem to shake the undying need to finish this important status report of SBF’s infractions that not one Congressman will take seriously because of how much money their lobbyist give each of them to conveniently misplace my findings. Get back to me in a hour, I’ll have it ready.”

“WE all know the evils of SBF but it is OUR job to let Congress know even if they don’t care. I’ll be back in an hour”

Sigh of relief. With the turn of his back, I had another hour to get lost in a daydream. I had finished the frustrating report on the SBF last Monday but knowing the trash was the final resting place for my work, I felt no need to meet my deadline. I figured, let it simmer in my email’s drafts for a while, maybe I’ll get lucky this time. Maybe Homeland Security will illegally tap my account and peruse SBF Oil Refinery’s injustices that kill just as surely as bomb would.

I wouldn’t hold my breath.

I casually let my eyes drift to Jefferson, taking in his attire. Tan buttoned down cardigan. Jeez, there it goes again. The inevitable flood of moisture which meant a quick run to the ladies room imminent. Only I would get off on a man who stole his sweaters from Mr. Rogers. He did wear it well and it made his otherwise nondescript outfit a bit sexy in an “it’s a beautiful day in the neighborhood kind of way.” Call me pervy but there’s something about a man who could make a well-worn button down cardigan seem more sophisticated than a tailored designer suit.I did have an hour. I wonder what I could imagine about him today.

I definitely needed a good release. My crazier fantasies tended to get a bit involved. Sometimes, I would get so lost in them, I’d forget I was trying to make myself come. In the ladies room, sometimes a slam of a stall or the sound water running to startle me back into reality. Then, I would look down and realize my poor fingers rested in between the folds getting pruned by constant puddling. When the coast was clear, I’d get a bit more filthy in my thoughts and my hand would have a mind of it’s own.

That’s the thing people don’t know about me. Sure, I can be sweet, sometimes I can even be intelligent but I also have the ability to conjure thoughts that would make the biggest whore of porn blush. Call it flaw but secretly… I was a dirty minded girl. I was just waiting for the right person to inflict those lascivious thoughts into action.

********************************************************************

I wish just once he would glance over. Day in day out, I get wet stealing glances at him. Day in day out, I do absolutely nothing about it besides an occasional hurried masturbation sprint in the ladies room. Maybe, I just never gave him a reason to.

Fuck it. It’s time to be daring. I unbuttoned the second to the top button. Now, that’s better. The white of my skin peeked through. I leaned back in my chair hoping Jefferson would look my way. He had a cup of his usual herbal tea in one hand and the other holding the phone to his ear. He smiled gently as he cooed soft words into the receiver. Sylvia. Must be. She called at least three times a day. I leaned back as far as I could. Nothing. What the hell does a girl have to do to get some attention? I peered down at my almost showing cleavage. Crap. Old shitty bra day. Do I dare unbutton one more button?

Obviously, only two buttons weren’t going to cut it but if I undo my shirt anymore the chance of grayed out bra showing may undo any good a possible.Fuck it. I looked around the office. Everyone was paying attention to his or her work. Covertly I tugged at the third. As I did so, I lost my balance and was propelled forward. Meanwhile, my button popped off and jettisoned into the air.

I knew where it was heading before I looked. Of course, it was heading towards Jefferson. When I heard the plop, I knew exactly where it landed. Did he look my way? Did he look at his tea? Nope. Obviously, he was too enraptured by Sylvia’s conversation, oblivious to all.Now I had a choice. Let the man of my lustful pining accidentally take a swig with plastic button or warn him. Going over with shitty bra most likely to be exposed by missing button was not the way I wanted to get his attention. On the other hand, I would feel pretty bad if he swallowed the damn thing. My eye grazed the stapler. Oh yeah Claire…that’s going to be a good look to adorn my already manly oxford shirt.

Crap. He’s lifting his cup to his mouth. No, no, please no. Jefferson…don’t do it. You are not thirsty. Put the cup down…get distracted by something. Oh, he’s going to do it all right. He’s about to…. Crap. Without thinking, I hurled my loafer towards him. Bull’s-eye. I knocked the cup right out of his hand.On impact he whelped, “Yikes.” His head whipped towards my desk. He muffled a “gotta go” and hung up the phone. Well, at least I got his attention.

I scooted my chair in so my shoeless foot wouldn’t show. I lowered my head acting like I was working. From the corner of my eye, I could see him staring at my shoe then looking back in my direction. The perplexed scrunching of his face told me he wasn’t sure if it was mine or not. He looked at other coworkers who seemed not to notice the shoe missile or even the crash of his mug.

He picked up my brown serviceable loafer and placed it on his desk. He took out a tissue box and wiped up the remains of his last swigs of tea that now sprinkled the floor. I couldn’t see if he found my button yet. I was mortified. Why couldn’t I have just one thing go right like an attractive shoe to chuck at unsuspecting victim of my reckless button mishaps?

“Done?”

My head popped up only to see Mr. Deevers. I sighed, went to email and pressed the send button.

“Done and should be in your inbox.” I said glancing at my shoe still residing in plain view on Jefferson’s desk.

“You seem a little out of it today, are you feeling alright?”

Scratching at a invisible itch I retorted glumly, “ Fine, as always.” I caught Deever’s mustache facing Jefferson’s way.

“Do you know why Jeff has a woman’s loafer on his desk?”

Why did the man insist on calling him Jeff. It didn’t suit him. His name is Jefferson, Deevers, Jefferson. The man wears cardigans you fool, men named Jeff do not wear cardigans. Men named Jeff wear polos, play golf and are about as interesting as an etch-a -sketch with no knobs to draw with.

“Research I think, rubber content is possibly toxic.”

“Really?”

“Oh yeah , those kind of loafers or notorious for having extra compounds that emit trace amounts gases when placed at desk height.”

“You’re kidding right?”

“No. It’s real study Mr. Deevers. You should keep up with these things. Jefferson is a real go-getter. He’s looking at all possible pollutants.”

Deevers’s mustache seemed a bit more disheveled as his brain tried to decipher explanation. He smoothed out the hairs that stuck out and gave a “huh” while walking away.

I looked up at the clock that hung just besides an exit sign. Two more hours, then I can escape, albeit without one of my shoes but I never liked them much anyway.

*******************************************************************************

I made sure everyone left for the day before I headed out. Luckily, Jefferson left early so there was know chance of discovery by him. Weirdly, he took my shoe with him. My best guess, a souvenir proving a phantom shoe thrower hit him. Time to go home. Time to eat a gigantic bowl of Macaroni and Cheese and pass out from carbohydrate overload.

As I reached the door, a faint out line of man appeared to be sitting on the bus bench across from the office. Why would anybody still be waiting for the bus in this part of town? As I reached, my car-the only one left in the lot, I saw my shoe on the hood with a note sticking out of it. I unfolded it nervously, only to read,

Wrong size. Does it come in a 10 and half?

Cordially,
Jefferson P. Stevens

Comments

I was looking over my previous posts and saw that I actually had comments. I thought that I had it set up where blogger would email me if I had any but apparently on this account it wasn't done properly. It was also formatted by accident that only registered users could comment. All fixed. Now anyone and everybody can comment. If you're shy, I have allowed for anonymous commenting ability. So bring on your thoughts..I'm curious to know what YOU think. And to those who made comments already...a Big Thank You!

PS

My new Website... wwww.anaisnohant.com is finally up. I have to get a couple of sections completed but for the most part...boombaby!

Beatrice Small and Her Role In My Sex Ed.

Ok, the whole Pirate thing, got me thinking about how I learned a huge onslaught of naughtier knowledge at a very young age, starting around my pre-teen years. This would be due to my mother owning most of the Beatrice Small's Skye O'Malley Saga.

These were marketed as Romance Books...but I'm telling you it was more like the early start of Erotic Romance(with bad euphemistic wording) than anything else because of all the taboo sexual activity. There were pirates and it was set mostly around Queen Elizabeth 1's court, which I found rather cool(as an highly imaginative pre-teen).

Amongst the books the heroines always somehow got stuck Harems in Algiers, Turkey and other eastern countries. I learned sex organ names in other languages before I knew what most technical/medical names were in english.

Through her books,I learned about anal sex, fetishes, bisexuality, and sex toys. The whole denuding of pubic hair was a fascination for me at a very early age because of her. There was one toy in particular that I fondly held my imagination for years. I'm pretty sure this was based on Ben Wa balls premise.

In which book, I can't remember but the sheik or what ever he was, inserts them as a punishment of sorts and every time she would walk or do some sort of movement this would cause her to come pretty much instantaneously.

This idea was incredibly provocative at a young age and would be still, if I didn't know in reality that really they don't actually do that in real life(very much a shame if I do say so myself). They do stimulate though and have excellent merit as a helpful device in toning and strengthening your pubococcygeus (PC) muscles.

As a pre-teens, still having a child's imagination my friends and I, would pretend that sweetarts were birth control pills and we would each take one before we watched scrambled Playboy (the audio came in very clear, thankfully.) Then I would tell them about the things I read in these books.

They were always very egaged by the whole Pirate thing, harems and other naughty sexual antics. Beatrice Small's indecent romance novels were like the holy grail of wickedness at that age and to this day I'm glad my mom didn't hide them away from me.

PS
I re-read one a couple of years back and I gotta say the whole "man root" language is laughable now.

And also as a side-side note...

Later on we would find Dad's stash of Playboys...this became very helpful in our education also(because of course, we read them for the articles...hehehe)

This Week in Sex Toy Confusion

Ok...someone gave me this sex accessories catalog mag, JT's Stockroom, this week. Mostly, it had things that made me go Ow! or Yikes!(I know, I know, need to stop being so prudish if I'm going to write Erotica for a living). Some really scary stuff. Some really interesting stuff. Some regular run of the mill stuff and things that just made me laugh. BUT came across something that just perplexed the hell out of me.

Aneros Prostate Massagers. Now, I have to admit in a very Rorschach inkblot (ing) moment, my first association with the picture brought to mind Prince's unpronounceable Symbol name.

Hey look to your far left, kinda close if you turn it upside down, right? Anyway... I stared at this trio of Prostate Massagers for 20 minutes. I tilted my head left then after scratching my head, I tilted my head right. Uh...how the hell does this work. Confession time...I got a C in High School biology and opted to take Marine Biology/Oceanography for my sciences in college but still. I have fundamental knowledge of the male body. The first model description is thus:

"The MGX is a medically researched and scientifically designed device that works in harmony with the body’s own movements. With rhythmic motion, it stimulates both the prostate and the perineum to create an unprecedented male orgasm."

First of all the... MGX(C134) naming it like it was the Jaguar of prostate massagers or something...that made me giggle a bit. Second, I still didn't get it...big part for...ahem..insertion right? One of the little parts to stimulate the perineum...what's the third part for? Prostrate on the inside, big part massages, it right? What's the third thing for?

So I carried on trying to find a useful explanation on how this works. Phrases like "hands free" and "self-propulsion mechanism " this also kept throwing me for a loop.

Then a section on:

"What is the Male G-Spot?Male G-Spot? Is there such a thing? The answer is an unequivocal "YES." Quite simply, the Male G-Spot is the prostate, or more precisely, the prostate-perineum. What are they? The prostate is the male prostate gland, and the perineum is a dime-sized soft spot between the anus and scrotum. The important nerves that control the sexual organs, including those controlling erection, orgasm, and ejaculation, converge at the prostate and the perineum area. This area is essentially a man's "command center" for sexual pleasure. Massaging the prostate has been a way to maintain and increase sexual health for men since ancient times. Men who suffer from prostate diseases such as prostatitis and bph (prostate enlargement) can get relief from these problems through regular prostate massages, usually given manually by a urologist."

Ah so this is a medical device too!(Somehow I don't think the urologist uses this thing though...maybe, who knows...don't have prostate to worry about. And thank God, having my Doctor manually massage my prostrate would be a weird Doctor/Patient line, I don't think I would recover from the crossing over.)

So it goes on to this:

So where do Aneros Stimulators come in?Initially, Aneros stimulators were created to safely and effectively massage the prostate, relieve congested prostate fluid, and promote general prostate health. Thus, when it was initially released, the Aneros improved the quality of lives for many men who used it for medical purposes. In addition to reporting improved prostate health, many people reported experiencing unbelievable orgasms and unique pleasures that, while different from a traditional penile orgasm, could only be described as "orgasmic."Minutes-long, non-ejaculatory, full-body orgasms are possible with an Aneros Stimulator.Many users report that in the midst of their orgasms their beds shake uncontrollably, they lose all sense of time, and they make "fierce" animal noises. "Growling like a bear" seems to be a popular reaction to the pleasure induced by the Aneros.Our enthusiasts have said that the "Super Orgasms" received from using the Aneros Massager are on a completely different level, both physically and spiritually, from traditional penile orgasms. However, using the Aneros and a penile orgasm are not mutually exclusive. In fact, many couples use the Aneros during intercourse. Because the Aneros also promotes sexual health, the Aneros has been reported to have a "Viagra-like" effect during intercourse and also enhances the strength of a traditional orgasm.

Gives "Super Orgasms"? In the "midst of their orgasms their beds shake, they lose all sense of time" and "Growling like a bear" commences, that's awesome! But why is it so scary looking and

HOW DO YOU USE THE EVER LOVING THING, GODDAMMIT!

Maybe, I'm an idiot. Maybe I should have paid more attention to biology. Maybe they should put out a "for dummies" book. Maybe need to go over male anatomy again. Will keep researching though...you think Wikipedia has an article on it?

The Pervalicious and Kinkadocious In Wholesome Comics

I get a lot of crap for reading comics. Wholesome and straightlaced right? Hmmn.....Insert obligatory commentary and/or dialogue at will. Pictures pilfered from the outrageously funny website
www.superdickery.com .

To Come or Not to Cum, What is the Proper Usage?

Before you start to think, I’m a evil harpy out to titillate your baser natures’, take a deep breath. I am.

BUT...this is an honest investigation of proper word usage.

For written titillation attempts, I’d like to get paid or at least a lovely gift basket. Maybe one of those gold stars or yellow smiley stickers you received from your primary school teacher for your stellar A+’s. A cocktail or two would do in a pinch…rambling…ok…right.

THIS post is about proper verb and noun contextual use of Come and Cum in the description of the act of climax (orgasmicly speaking of course) and its subsequent liquidy effects before and after.

I’ve been looking at my edits, post-critique of an once rejected twice shy, more nathier scribble. (Nathy or nathier in this case, if you were wondering, is my lispy version of nasty, for cutesy effect. It is my lame attempt to downplay "nasty’s" connotational bad rap.)

One critique comment issued that I haven’t edited, has me in a state of hmmm…

I’m not sure, but I think in erotica they write “cum”

In regards to:

I tightened my vaginal muscles with fast but steady squeezes like a metronome, hoping that it would help me come.

Again, hmmm. I thought the act of climax was “to come” or if your are speaking about it in the past tense “came”. Furthermore, if you are in the act, right at this moment, you are in fact, in the state of “coming”. Verb…right?

In regards to cum, I associate that with the resulting orgasmic ejaculatory (insert any number of adjectives) substance, a noun. Not to be forgotten is the ubiquitous pre-cum. Again noun all day long, even if it is in it’s infantile stages of it’s full debut (all hail the yummy onslaught…did I just write that out loud? Sorry.)

I usually associate this particular noun as masculine for some odd reason but technically, I think it can be used as describing a female ejaculation. (Now, that’s something I would love to see, curious as all get out….) I vaguely remember somebody using the term as her “cum” in reference to this, so noun applied by hazy recollection.

It shouldn’t be confused with a woman’s, organically made lubrication referred to by a myriad a euphuismistic nouns but NEVER referred to as precum.

The noun (precum) if it is a good day for our hero, transitions to the verb(to come or coming) which simultaneously enables the noble noun (cum) to materialize. But isn’t the act of experiencing the noun (precum) a verb and should it not be referred to as (pre-coming). Same with act of climax for a man and vice versus in the case of female if she experiences such (female ejaculation). They are coming (verb) but have cum (noun) also.

You still with me? This is all getting very sticky.

A Wikidown and other definitive sources don’t help…contradictions abound.

In the case of MY simple sentence,

I tightened my vaginal muscles with fast but steady squeezes like a metronome, hoping that it would help me come.

I’m sticking with my gut instinct, unless bevy of comments tell me to do otherwise.
I believe “come’ is correct usage in this context because my heroine has no plans (because writer has no inkling what it looks or feels like) to experience female ejaculation. This heroine just wants her orgasm. So, verb it is.

However, proper usage of come and cum were never discussed in MY English classes (wouldn’t that been a fun day in school?) SO must clarify this mystery for future stories that might hamper my authoritive use of either verb or noun. I should have at least ONE aspect of grammar down pat, for crying out loud.

SO.....Foregoing, Aristotelian methods of deduction, what do YOU think?

Welcome To My Naughtier Thoughts

Coming Soon... posts of excerpts of my work, general mayhem and maybe a little lasciviousness(hopefully), Who knows what's in store.