Smoke and Penises

Elena's pic credit.

A work colleague used the expression "head job" last week.

It wasn't an inappropriate use of the phrase, despite the nauseating level of "sensitivity-" and "harassment-" and sundry other politically correct "-training" insanities that bejewel working life thesedays.

No-one was insulted or harassed or made the victim of smutty innuendo - it was a simple anecdote in which "head shop" was misunderstood as "head job".

Okay, so it's a predictable spoonerism. More of interest is the unfashionability of the term "head job". It sounds so eighties to me - something that a drunk film star would say on a late-night chat show. Or how a teenager would shock its' parents.

"Head job" has, of course, been replaced with "blow job". It's a matter of record that the BJ involves the male ejaculate, whereas giving head is the oral precursor. In a way it reflects the supersize- me mentality: Give me the most of everything you can, whether I can stomach it or not.

Frankly, I'm wistful about the head job. It's a remnant from a (slightly) less debauched time, more about the fun of the penis than the end result. Head celebrates the journey rather than the destination. Head is innocent; blowing is intentional. Head is bucolic. BJs are industrial.

I'm just a funny old romantic.





Bottoms Up, Smokers.

20,000 Pubes Under the Tongue

My guess is that it's your experience too, that pubic hair isn't as well anchored to the pudendum as it ought. But what a jolly bonding thing it is to stop and amusingly highlight that you are removing a pube from between your teeth lest more than one collect and create a ball. Hilarious.

Which reminds me that this situation is called having sex, whereas one hair in your eggdrop soup calls for a lawsuit. What a funny olde world we live in. Thank you tort lawyers.

But back to the man in the boat. It's my phrase du jour, this happy nautical metaphor for the clitoris hiding in the decking. Sneaky individual that man in the boat, for sometimes he's under a sou'wester, and other times he's out on the poop deck just gagging for some company. And just why is he a man? Shirley an all girl crew is more appropriate?

Being criticised for lack of ability to find the clit is often man's lot. If Nintendo got their act together, they could do fantastically. Imagine this: A Wii game in which the object is to find and stimulate a digital clitoris until the boat is awash in wet'n'gooey. If Wii controllers accepted input from tongue, lips, fingers and teeth, we'd have ourselves a decent cunt simulator.



Bottoms Up, Gamers!



Pic from this excellent site [link]

Cold Hard Steel.

Gayle is my pet Cougar. She's fortyish, single, direct and horny, the four food groups that sustain Cougars. To round out her qualifications, she's into younger men for sex alone, the catnip no Cougar can resist. We're friends, but I have plans for her as an advisor.

I didn't know she was my pet Cougar until last Friday night. Over H-Hour drinks we had a frank and earnest discussion about the virtues and vices of men with pierced tongues. That is a subject about which I know nothing.

Naturally, when I think of cold hard steel I think of my penis. Well not my penis exactly, but a woman's tongue-stud providing extra stimulation for my penis during fellatio. Judging by the way Gayle's eyes rolled back in their sockets and her uncontrollable leg-shaking, a man using his own tongue-stud on a Cougar's cooter works as well for women as for men, orgasm/pleasure-wise. Or even pre-orgasm/pleasure-wise.

All that eye-fluttering and invoking the Lord was for demonstration purposes only. I certainly wasn't providing her with pleasure, what with my virgin tongue and the other drinkers and all. But the memory of her (much) younger lover using his accessorized tongue to good effect gave her performance depth. She really dug the steel-on-clit feeling. Like a ball-bearing in Spam, I guess.

Bottoms up, pierced ones!






Graph from here [link]

Post Pussy

This is destined to become a backwater of the internet, but just between you and me, will you ladies answer this question?

After a man has spent himself licking and sucking and lapping your gooey regions, do you want him to kiss you?

Yes, I want every woman who reads this to answer. Please.

Let's be clear: his chin is dripping with your juice, and his tongue red-raw from pleasuring your kitty/taint/arse.

Should he rise up from between your loins and look approvingly for a smooch?

Bottoms up!



Photo from here, although I doubt they're smart enough to realize the audience we provide them. [link]

Edited for overuse of 'lapping' and other sundry failings.

Salt, Sweet, Sour, Bitter and Umami.

There used to be only four basic taste descriptors, (salt, sweet, sour and bitter) but they (the smarties who study these things) discovered an extra one in 2002. I have called it umami, its Japanese name, but it's also known as savouriness.

It's quite something to think that everything we eat and drink can be completely described via a combination of these five categories. Smell plays a big part in the way food feels and tastes, as well as the texture. There's a lot going on there.

What's true of food is true of eating pussy too. Lots of weak jokes surround the taste of ladies' vaginas, but I don't swim with that school. Yes, there can be a fishy undertone to some lady juice, but by no means all holes taste the same. (By "all holes" I don't mean all holes in the one lady; I'm talking about the poon-hole in different ladies. Just wanted to make that clear, although other lady holes are fun too, and some even have teeth.)

The perfect pussy "...tastes like hot-sweet-sticky-kinda-salty candy." Who wouldn't like a second helping of that? I'd like it for all seven courses, thank-you waiter. The quote comes from this Salon.com article, an excellent read. I don't need to rehash it here. One truth I hadn't connected before is that hairy love trench is a fundamentally different experience than deforested trim. That's mostly because of the residual smells hiding in the pubes.

See, tasting and smelling are closely related in sex too.

All the evidence points to everything you ingest, inject or stick up your vagina changing its taste. Pretty obvious, that, and the same phenomenon as the sperm/semen combination tasting different depending upon what the owner eats. The big difference is in the contraception arts, which can make your va-jay-jay taste like hand sanitizer if you're not careful.

Frankly, I have yet to meet a muff I haven't liked. Some research in this area would be a fine thing, because of pet theory of mine: I believe that snatch tastes different depending on the position of the female, and wonder if there's any science to the postulation.

Bottoms up.





Tongue pic from here [link]

Edited out of respect for English.

For the female perspective on dining at the Y (girl on girl) try this [link]

Friday Fluffer - Cooter Ice

BlueBabe's writing inspires me in many ways. Her post today [link] is about...well, let's just say that the guy she thought was a Pussy Aficionado turned out not to be.

I think her blog is restricted, but leave her a note here in comments, and she'll likely as not let you in the door of her amazing world.

In recognition of the fact that we can all learn more about some things, here's a link to the Cunnilingus Tutor's Top 50 ways to keep a lady happy.

CT's Top Fifty. [link]

As they say at the finest restaurants and the lowest diners: Enjoy!




Edit: BlueBabe requests you email her for access to her blog. It's totally worth it.

bluelovergirl1@aol.com

Happy pic from here [link]