Ejaculate: You'll Make Her Happy

Reading Snaf's and KayDee's blogs recently has been a little like being backstage watching the audience reaction to a new Broadway production. The show - a musical, methinks, called Let the Spunk Fly - is a physical show, full of nudity and grunts that has a climax with a twist: there is no climax.

All of us backstage are men, in on the plot twist. And those in the audience are all women, who have no idea what's about to happen.

The real trick of the show is that the women leave thinking that something's happened, when in fact nothing has.

Okay, okay, enough of the smart-arse metaphors.

It looks like lots of chicks are surprised that they're not the only ones providing artificial orgasms. My reaction is everyman's - Huh? You mean I fooled you the way you fooled me?

Frankly, I really don't care that much. Sometimes I won't want to express my reproductive fluids, but it doesn't seem like that big of a deal. There's always next time. And we got to spend naked or semi-naked fun time together, right?

My question of women is: What else don't you know about your men?


Bottoms Up, Fuckers!

Feminist Literature

Floating around the internet searching for dungeon equipment proved immensely time wasting. Not only are there VERY few vendors, the quality of the goods looks decidedly dodgy. And surprisingly there's not much of a market for second-hand (pre-spanked?) BDSM kit...although maybe not so surprisingly.

Hey, I'll give you fifty for the rack, the standing cage and the two wooden stingers.

What I did find was an enormous amount of porn, which, as we all know, was the reason hand lotion was invented.

One kink I don't understand is this thing of writing shit on a woman. I'm looking at an example now. She's wearing spike heels and a sweet spiked collar. Her master (presumably) used a felt pen to write what amount to instructions all over her. Big arrows point at her cooter saying "For Fucking". On her buttocks, similar arrows lead to her chocolate starfish with the words "Cocks Go Here." On her boobs is the instruction "Cum All Over These" and at various places she's branded a "Slut".

Ooookay.




Exploring Uma photo from here [link]

Oh, God, I'm about to come, Oh God, Ohhhhhhhhhh,Gooooooooooooddd.

It's the point you've been hoping to reach, that pre-ecstasy moment where (I guess) she leans over the edge of the Grand Canyon before letting herself fall.

If I'm finger-banging my girlfriend, the whole point is to find her climax. They can be predictable, easily wrangled, neither elusive nor skittish, but don't try cashing in that guarantee. As soon as you think you've got it wired, something changes.

But for the most part it's cool knowing I can get her off with two or three or (ahem) four fingers, good navigation and some delicacy. Reaching this point the first few times, a small fear creeps in, a fear that doubts you're doing the right thing. The fear says that you need a change-up, to do something more, rearrange the rhythm to get her over the top.

The trick is to not give in to the fear - don't stop, and don't change. Keep on keeping on until you watch her giving in to the feeling. At that point, your job's done. Sit back and enjoy the wonderful leg-shaking, hip thrusting, nipple grabbing, head-back howling joy.


Pic from here.[link]

Edited for spelling and clarity.