Wednesday, 28 November 2012

TMI Tuesday: Remember my name...

I'm aware it's Wednesday, but I couldn't keep my hands off this one. I can't say I've ever had sex with anyone famous... but I've met a lot of people who have. By which I essentially mean I've met famous people. I've been in films, y'know.

So, a slightly late TMI Tuesday. On a Wednesday.

1. Have you ever had sex with someone famous or who later became famous, if only locally?

I don't think so... although I did have to think about that one. I've had sex with three people from the sex blogging world, so maybe not famous, but well-known in one community.
I had sexual contact (although not full sex) with someone who's quite well-known in her local area, but only for being her... not exactly a celebrity exactly, but if you live in her city I think there's a chance you'll know her.


2. In the spirit of Six Degrees of Separation, have you had sex with someone who had sex with someone who had sex with someone who ... someone famous?

Again, I don't think so. I've given romantic/sexual counselling/advice to a friend of mine who slept with Johnny Borrell, but that's not exactly sex, is it?
To be honest, I genuinely don't know. I've had sex with a few people whose sexual pasts or futures I'm not sure about (and don't particularly want to know) - although if there's any likelihood, it'll've been via TD's bready friend, who she had sex with before me. Why? Because he's been... active, apparently.


3. In the opposite direction, have you had sex with someone whose name you didn’t know?

No. Although there's nothing to suggest that one or two of them may have given me a fake name. But I doubt it.


4. Someone whose name you knew then but have forgotten?

Nope. However, bear in mind that I've given all of them a fake name for this blog (apart from those who came with one ready-made via their own blogs!), and I have trouble remembering those. But I wouldn't be so blasé as to readily admit to forgetting someone's name! What am I, the aforementioned beardy friend of TD's?


5. Someone who you suspect may have forgotten you?

Yes. I think Lily from Croydon may have forgotten me.


Bonus: Someone you wish you could forget?

Nope. I've had bad sex, sure, but I think everyone who's deigned to have sex with me has contributed to my sexual development in some way, and whatever part having sex with them has had to play has been an important part of that. So I don't think forgetting anything would really help.

Plus, I've had a lot of amazing sexual experiences!

Tuesday, 27 November 2012

Sound of the UnderGround

I fought long and hard to get the Internet in my room when I was 16. I had a computer - quite a good one, considering I got it for free (although a few years ago it died. I had to install BeOS to get it to run properly!) - but I wasn't really using it for anything except Final Fantasy VII. If I wanted to do anything online, including updating websites, it had to be on the family computer, which was in the lounge. Much of what I've done of any consequence, including starting my first blog, was actually done in the dark corner of my old room where my trusty desktop computer was - after my dad ran an extension lead to which I connected an Ethernet cable.

My mother agreed that I could have the Internet in my room on the provision that I didn't download porn, which she knew I wouldn't do because "you're not like that" - which was true, to a certain degree. I downloaded a lot of erotica, but there was very little porn on my HD (although it'd be hard to tell what was and what wasn't, as there was enough skin in various folders!) Downloading services, like KaZaA (although I used the lite version), were full of stuff for me to watch, and I did, at certain points, delve into the world of hardcore, just because I liked the sound of the file.

Which leads me to think about that time I stayed up a whole night downloading one file.

In my defence, I knew it was a stupid thing to do. It was a school night, but I never sleep particularly well and being 17 made no difference to this fact. I put "car sex" into KaZaA and saw what came up, and one file caught my eye, mostly because it had the tag-line "the BEST SEX SCENE on the NET". Sounds good, I reasoned, let's have a look.

What really intrigued me was the fact that it had a storyline. I started the download and then read the description in more detail. "An UnderGround Video video," it stuttered. "Hot girl taking her driving test fails, so she fucks her instructor to get a pass." Okay, cliché... but still, there's a back story there; that was more my sort of thing. The file size was big - huge, infact - but I reasoned that it was a big file because it would go into detail about the back story, and then have this hot girl seducing the poor hapless driving instructor. But I knew it was going to take a while to download... so I waited.

The minutes snailed by, which eventually turned into hours. As it turned out, the file was a huge size because it had two idents, both for the fictitious company "UnderGround Video", before a title card with shots from the video, and then the video itself, which was in incredibly high resolution. I had a glance at the opening shots from the video a few times through the night (in between sitting on my bed and counting the seconds), and finally, at 5:30am, it completed downloading.

Of course, I was then going to watch it. Plugging headphones in, I turned the sound up a bit and then sat through the entire scene. Yes, the girl was hot. Yes, it developed some form of storyline before the sex. But that was about it. It was poorly made, the acting was poor, the driving instructor was a hideous perv with a stupid collection of facial hair, and - worst of all - he initiated the sex, through nothing more than getting his cock out and waving it at her. There wasn't any powerful female seduction, and that was (to my mind) what had been promised by the file description.

And, you know, there was a lot of sex, but I found that incredibly boring.

By the time 6am rolled around, I was disappointed - not only with the file I'd wasted time downloading, but also with myself, for breaking my boundaries and downloading hardcore. And mostly with UnderGround Video, for concocting this promising scenario and spoiling it with stupidly overdone sex and a dejecting boy-initiated setup. Of course, I reasoned to myself, I'm watching it after staying up a whole night downloading the thing; I'll watch it again tomorrow and see if it does anything different for me.

I never opened the file again... and I got a lot of sleep the following night.

Sunday, 25 November 2012

Headoff!

"I hit my head really hard on the metal frame of my bedhead the other day," I said, after ladling myself a fifth spoonful of soup.
"All together now... aww," my dad said in a voice that resembled something like a monotonous drone being even more monotonous at the annual meeting of the Boring Club. I stopped short of suggesting he get one of those cards that says "Laugh" to hold up to the audience.

He wasn't there. It could have been serious... except it wasn't. It could have been. The metal's really hard, and I hit it at a rate of knots. There's a noticable bump if you really feel for it (it's in between one from being in a film in which my character's death involved throwing myself backwards onto a hard stone floor, and another one from hitting my head against a wall over and over again because there was nothing else to do. I have an interestingly-shaped head.), and if you press really firmly against it, it hurts. Obviously, I've been doing that a lot.

It's my own fault, really. My bed is a king-size and there's still not a lot of space to move during sex - to get enough leverage to drive hard I like my feet to be cupping the end of the frame, my hands to be holding the bedhead, or both. If I get enough rhythm going I can do this kind of bouncy thing (I think it's called "bouncing") which, although not for everyday use, gets me deep inside her repeatedly at a brisk rate. I like it, anyway. I think she does too.

(And it makes a change from piston-powered hip-thrusting, which is tried and true but can wear you out after a bit...)

Anyway - I was doing... something. I don't remember. It was incredibly hot sex, and just as it was building up, I felt my head being cleaved in half. I reared backwards - although this is the same motion I tend to make when I orgasm, so I'm not sure she noticed. I was going to check to see if my mortal enemy was around to actually cleave my head in twain, but I was in too much pain to do so (never mind the fact that I don't have a mortal enemy). In fact, I was in too much pain to do anything.

I lay on my back and realised that I couldn't even cry with pain, which is what I wanted to do but couldn't. I think it was both the shock and the pain that shook me up. My girlfriend panicked a bit, but since all I could say was "wrstfglip," I probably wasn't very good at reassuring her. It went something like this:

"Oh my god, baby! Are you okay?"
"dofvfpewv"

"Do you need me to get a doctor?"
"pdebvvowb"
"Do you want me to tell your parents?"
"rvcobvqp"
"Can I do anything at all?"
"I'm... I'm sorry for not making you come before I hit my head!"

Seriously, that was the thing I worried about the most. Concussion, brain damage and the loss of cerebral spinal fluid tossed casually aside in favour of apologising for not finishing her off properly on account of the fact that I'd managed to maim my own head in the pursuit of happiness.

I felt around to check that everything was still there. Yes, it all seemed fine. Painful like a particularly painful thing, but all still working. I felt at the time like I was going to lose consciousness, but I stayed awake for hugs and kisses anyway (well, wouldn't you?). I was dizzy, but steadied myself... although we didn't go back to sex afterwards. I may have been mercifully okay, but I probably wasn't up to repeating the experience.

Not really the sex injury I may consider particularly impressive, I do have to say, but I waa fortunate insofar as I didn't pass out from the pain. It's much more difficult to dispense reassurance/apologies when you're unconscious. But seriously though, sudden painful head injury and no sudden inability to move? I must have amazing constituti

Friday, 23 November 2012

More4

Thanks to More4, I finally - five years after it first came out - finally saw Channel 4's "Sex Blog Girls" documentary last night. This was originally released late 2007, which is pre-me, so that's quite a long time back.

Obviously things have changed since then. I started blogging at the end of 2007 myself and I've seen a rapid shift in the world of sex blogs - I've experienced it. I know some of the people shown and referenced in the documentary - Zoe was the focus (perhaps understandably), but Brooke (before she went public as "Brooke"), Scarlet, Bitchy Jones, Silva Fox (whose book I've read), and (oddly enough, considering she's from the US) Vix, whose blog flashed up a couple of times - and some of them are still writing.

But there are more bloggers now than there ever were, and there are more things to consider than there were in 2007. Or if there aren't, then they're more obvious - at least, they are to me. Hey, it's my blog, okay?

If Channel 4 were to make an updated version of the documentary - and they should, considering how dated this one is starting to become - they might want to think about things like this:

  • Belle de Jour outed herself as Brooke Magnanti. She isn't presented particularly well in the documentary itself, something she picked up on via Twitter, but it's not just her either. I think there's a little less anonymity around than there used to be (some people reveal their real names, some people meet up with other people, etc.). That's not to say there's less anonymity out of the sex blogosphere - outing oneself isn't done on a regular basis - but within it is a different matter.
  • With more networking, both through the blogs and in real life, there's still a tight community, but it's spreading more than it may have otherwise. With events like Erotic Meet, there are things that those interested can come to, but with Eroticon, there's an event which was focused on sex bloggers. This has focused less on the whole "secret life" thing and made sex blogging seem more of a mainstream thing... for those in the know, anyway.
  • More bloggers are appearing all the time. There's something to be said for the "old guard" (some of the bloggers mentioned on the documentary are still around, and some have left and come back, or have been working on other projects) - they are, after all, seasoned - but without new bloggers coming out, there wouldn't be many people to play with! (I'd be willing to bet anything I own, including my teeth, that the documentary would have featured Molly had it been made after 2010.) Some of these "new" bloggers have had just as much impact, I'd say, as the older ones, at least within the blogosphere.
  • Some bloggers, myself included, have had and are in relationships with other bloggers. We've even got blogs written by couples, but those are slightly different - meeting someone through a sex blog is something very unusual, but still kinda cool. Well, I think so anyway. But without things like the aforementioned events, that sort of thing wouldn't easily happen. And also...
  • Twitter. It's revolutionised everything, and the sex blogosphere has benefited incredibly from Twitter. A great tool not just for publicity, but for communication, messages, arranging meetings, even just getting to know people. It's brought more bloggers together than anything else I can think of.
  • Bloggers are getting asked to review products - from Blacksilk's multitude of sex toy reviews to the Durex Play varieties sent to me in the days of yore. In the pre-blog days, I doubt that the companies would have thought about asking people on the internet to test out their stuff for an unbiased review. To be honest, first e-mail I got on the subject I thought may have been a scam. But it does make sense, though - if you want a well-written review, ask someone who writes. The flip side to this - that blogs seem to be getting more commercial these days - does irritate me a bit, but it's still something that's changed.
Of course, you can probably also see where I'm going with this. The documentary focused on (and seemed to insinuate that) sex blogs are all written by women. That isn't the case, and - while I'm sure they now that - I'm not entirely sure why that was made so forcefully. One of the points made was that the stereotypical man is more able to talk openly about sex with his mates, whereas anonymous blogging was a way for a girl to be open about her sexuality... but I don't think that's true either.

And I speak from experience, as a young man myself; I've always been interested in sex and sexuality, but I wouldn't (and still don't, considering who I'm talking to - I'm more open with my friend-who-is-a-midwife, or 47, than I would be with the young raver, or Mane) be overly comfortable with boasting about sexual exploits to my friends in the pub. I wrote about sex once on my LJ, but had to be quite restricted about what I said - and only had selected friends read it. And I'm anti-censorship, so I'm not entirely sure that worked. But I felt I needed that platform just as much as I felt (and still feel) like I needed this one.

I'll agree that ridiculous women's magazines like Cosmopolitan - although their focus has changed a bit too, although probably not enough - have too much of the "getting and keeping your man" vibe about them and that the sex blog was a valuable tool for ladies to talk openly (albeit anonymously) about sex, but I think that men need that too. I certainly do and anything that I write wouldn't fit in with the tone of a lads' mag. In fact, I can't think of any lads' mag that has a focus on sex similar to my opinions, whereas at least ladies had Scarlet for a while.

So: here is my proposition, Channel 4. Make another one. Mention everything I've said in this post and take a more thorough look through the sex blogosphere. There are some great links on my sidebar to get you started. And there's nothing to stop you coming to Eroticon next year, either.

(Quite a link-heavy post, I'll admit. But there's a lot to think about here. Excuse me while I go and bake a cake now..)

Wednesday, 21 November 2012

Wipe on, wipe off.

Laugh if you will, but...

That was your opportunity to laugh. Don't throw it away. Oh, go ahead, suit yourself.


...I am praising God Almighty for the creation of wet wipes. Specifically Andrex's "Washlets" brand, which I have identified as the finest of wet wipes available, through the simple expedient of checking the pack that's on top of my chest of drawers right now. Or, more realistically, half a pack.

A friend of mine - that one friend who talks about wanking all the freaking time - described to me in incredibly graphic detail that he grabs a tissue just as he's about to climax, thus providing himself with a paper condom equivalent and saving the tedious task of cleaning himself up following orgasm (his boyfriend neither confirmed or denied this fact, but then again, that's probably because I didn't ask him). However, I don't have that fast a trigger finger, and although the hideously orange toilet tissue that my dad buys usually suffices for cleaning up the end result of my orgasms, sometimes I long for the tender caress of something slightly more gentle.

"Holy shit!" said my girlfriend yesterday evening, being her usual erudite self, as I ejaculated all over my hand, stomach, chest and neck. Blissing out during the comedown, I waited for her orgasm (it didn't take too long to wait now she had a visual stimulus...) before even considering the fact that I needed to clean up. To be honest, it had been an exhausting day; falling asleep in a pool of our own cum seemed like a good idea for a while, before I realised that it would undo the effects of the shower I'd had earlier.

And this is where wet wipes came to the rescue. Quick as a particularly slow flash, I wal... okay, "stumbled"... across the bedroom to grab the pack just begging to be used. The effect was incredible, not only cleaning up the residue in a very effective way, but also giving my skin the wonderful feeling that it had just been washed, similar to the "fresh from the dentist feeling of clean" that Arm & Hammer toothpaste provides, except without the baking soda this time.

As I said, laugh if you will... but this truly was a very good idea. And what's more, I still have half a pack remaining. It is a wonderful feeling, truly superior to the usual tissue-based ritual. Therefore, I shall continue, dear reader, to promote the usage of wet wipes in post-orgasm cleansing for some time to come.

Unless if it's Kandoo. I can't stand that stupid frog.

Tuesday, 20 November 2012

Top 100 Sex Bloggers of 2012

Well, may I say it was about bloody time? Rori's Top 100 is back out - and, following my uncanny inclusion in 2009 and 2011, did this stupid blog make it this time? Let us check.

I'm sensing a theme here...

1. Molly from Molly’s Daily Kiss @mollysdailykiss
2. EA from Easily Aroused @EasilyAroused
3. Hyacinth Jones from A Dissolute Life Means…
4. Cheeky Minx from Love Hate Sex Cake @LoveHateSexCake
5. Amy from Anal Amy @AnalAmy
6. My Trousers Rolled from My Trousers Rolled @rolledtrousers
7. Sexual Life of a Wife from Sexual Life of a Wife
8. Dark Gracie from Gracie’s Playground @darkgracie
9. diirrty from d i i r r t y
10. nilla from Vanillamom’s Blog @swirlednilla
11. Suggestive Tongue from Suggestive Tongue @Suggestive
12. Sunny Megatron from Sunny Megatron @SunnyMegatron
13. Aisha from Being Aisha
14. Dev from Delving to Deviance
15. Amie Wee from Crevice Canyon @crevicecanyon
16. Remittance Girl from Remittance Girl @remittancegirl
17. Lady Dragonfly from Lady Dragonfly @miladydragonfly
18. paltego from Femdom Resource
19. Bella Blush from Clean, Moral, Polite
20. Girl on the Net from Girl on the Net @girlonthenet
21. Clarisse Thorn from Clarisse Thorn @clarissethorn
22. Kyle Mew from Kyle Mew @kylemmew
23. Violet+Rye from Uncommon Appetites @UCAppetites
24. Mina and Sylvanus from At Longing’s End @mydesire and @sylvanus
25. Athol Kay from Married Man Sex Life
26. Heather and Nikki from Vagina Antics @Heather_Cole1 and @Nikki_Blue1
27. Ferns from Domme Chronicles @Ferns__
28. Conina from Exploring Surrender
29. Kaya from Under His Hand
30. Joan Price from Better Than I Ever Expected @joanprice
31. Dumb Domme from Dumb Domme @DumbDomme
32. Sadie from That’s What Sadie Said
33. Nikki from Nikki True @Thenikkitrue
34. Lucas Brooks from Top To Bottom @Top2Bottom
35. HH and Lo from My Sex Life with Lola
36. Harper Eliot from (It Girl. Rag Doll) @HarperEliot
37. Charlie Glickman from Charlie Glickman @charlieglickman
38. Lady Cheeky from Smut for Smarties
39. TemptingSweets999 from Tempting Sweets: Story Heat
40. Monocle, Redbud, and Ximena from The Erotic Writer @_Monocle_ and @_Ximena_Writes_
41. Happy BDSM from Happy BDSM
42. Charlie Nox from Charlie Nox @charlienox
43. Theo Black from Theo Black
44. Chrystal Bougon from Bliss Radio
45. Rockin from Light Switch @RockinwithaCock
46. Dr. Marty Klein from Sexual Intelligence @drmartyklein
47. Miranda an Aaron from The Swinger’s Attic
48. Karen from Kissing Blue Karen @kissinbluekaren
49. Axe from Unspeakable Axe @unspeakableaxe
50. Peroxide from Submissive in Seattle @Peroxide__
51. Rachel Rabbit White from Rachel Rabbit White @rabbitwhite
52. Jill McDevitt from A Day in the Life of a Sexologist
53. LS&M from Love, Sex & Marriage
54. Hubman from Hubman’s Hangout @hubman38
55. Coyote’s Kitten from Kitten’s Paw Prints in Slavery @coyoteskitten
56. Betty Dodson and Carlin Ross from Dodson and Ross @dodsonandross
57. Daisy Danger from The True Life Sex Adventures of Daisy Danger @daisydanger
58. Oatmeal Girl from Submission & Metaphor @oatmeal_girl
59. Fatal from You Linger Like a Haunting Refrain
60. Ruby Ryer from Pegging Paradise @Ruby_Ryder
61. Kyle Jones from Butchtastic
62. Anakin and padme from Journey to the Darkside @AnakinDarth and @padmeamidala
63. Lady Pandorah from Lady Pandorah’s Sanctuary @ladypandorah
64. Marie Rebelle from Rebel’s Notes @rebelsnotes
65 Thumper from Denying Thumber @thumperMN
66. Jade from Pieces of Jade @piecesofjade
67. Jason Stotts from Erosophia @jstotts
68. BD Swain from Leaning How To Tell You @redswain
69. Bre from Owned, Collared, Loved
70. Dangerous Lilly from This Could Be Dangerous @dangerouslilly
71. Modesty Ablaze from Modesty Ablaze @ablazingmodesty
72. Suzanne from All Mine
73. Kitty from My Secret Life
74. Domina Victoria Rage from Domina Victoria Rage @VictoriaRage
75. Sin from Finding My Submission
76. Maggie Mayhem from Miss Maggie Mayhem @msmaggiemayhem
77. Artemisia Absinthium from Absinth Cocktail @ArtiAbsinthium
78. N. Likes from My Dissolute Life @nlikes
79. TheOthers1 from Undue Creativity
80. Roxy from Uncommon Curiosity @sroxy
81. Mollena from The Perverted Negress @Mollena
82. Jerome from Let’s Talk About Sex
83. Liza from Always Each Other @lizawrites
84. Figleaf from Real Adult Sex @talkingfigleaf
85. Red Vinyl Kitty from The Sub Mission @The_Sub_Mission
86. Omega and Mouse from The Power Exchange @talesofmouse
87. Innocent Loverboy from Innocent Loverboy @innocentlb
88. Shelby Cross from Shelby Cross, Writer
89. Blacksilk from Being Blacksilk @BeingBlacksilk
90. Kaleigh Trace from Fucking Facts @TheFuckingFacts
91. Romantic Dominant from A Faded Romantic’s Notebook
92. BiLikesSciFi from A Tale of Bi and Bi
93. Curvaceous Dee from Curvaceous Dee @curvaceousdee
94. Evoe Thorne from My Whole Sex Life @WholeSexLife
95. Ponyboy from Marriage in the Bedroom @Ponyboy0000
96. Jack and Jill from Frisky in the 916 @jackandjillcpl and @jillandjackcpl
97. The Gentle Nibbles Writing Team from Gentle Nibbles @gentlenibbles
98. Kitty from The Submissive Wife
99. Kat from She Makes the Rules
100. Anyone else

I'm fairly content with that - at the incredibly high #87, I'm one whole place higher than I was last year! It's good to see the return of Blacksilk, down in the cheap seats with me, and Lady P - as always. It's a shame not to see some of the people I voted for - Jilly and Rhye to name a couple - but I guess that's what #100 is for. And it's something to aim for, as well.

Sunday, 18 November 2012

Eight Seconds

"I want to blog," I admitted, "but you've already written a post about what I wanted to write about."
"Oh," she replied. "Well, you can write about it too..."
"Nah, I'll write about something else. I just need some inspiration. Hit me over the head by a 2-by-4?"

She took me by the back of my head and pulled me forwards. There was half a second's pause, and then we kissed. Our lips pressed against each other, and then with a swift, almost eager movement they spread open. I felt my tongue sliding against hers and my eyes fluttered closed as I melted into her. I felt her arms around me as I (gently) placed one of mine on her back, the soft fabric of one of my own jumpers greeting my fingertips.

Eight seconds passed. We eventually broke apart and I gave a soft, internal sigh, glancing into her eyes. There was another, fairly pregnant pause.

"Okay, that's all the inspiration I need," I acquiesced, turning back to my netbook's keyboard.

Saturday, 17 November 2012

Deal or No Deal?

"Don't mind me, I'm just lying here fiddling with your nipple."

I breathed in.

"I won't be able to go and get your clothes if you're going to be doing that."
"Why not?"
"Because you're making me hard. And I love your naked cuddles."


She felt for my penis under the covers.


"Oh yes, I am..."
"..."

"..."
"That feels nice."
"..."
"..."

"I ache for you," I said, kissing her neck.
"You do?"
"Yes, I do," I said, sliding over on top of her. "You don't mind if I delay going to get your clothes for a little longer?"
"Not at all," she breathed, as I felt her soft folds contract around me...

Tuesday, 13 November 2012

Broadcast

I have, once, masturbated to Babestation. I'm not exactly proud of it - but I was bored. I was lonely. I was horny. And there was nothing else on that was even remotely sexy. Not that I find Babestation sexy, but it happened to be playing while I was wanking. Look, shut up, I'll try and explain.

This was a while ago (2005, if I remember correctly!). I was staying at my gay aunts' house in Lancashire for a night, and I was still up at midnight, having almost completed Alex Kidd in Miracle World after about 492134601 tries (but I've still never beaten that bloody game!); I ended up in their lounge, channel-hopping. They'd just had a Sky TV box installed, and while this included L!VE TV, the channel at this point mostly consisted of repeats of Threesome, a softcore series with very little sex in it, while Babestation consisted of moderately attractive naked girls giving pithy responses to very desperate men texting in. Their texts appeared on the screen and the girls (who, I recall, included McKenzie Lee) would do what they asked - unless they didn't want to. It was the repetitive nature of the texts and the fact that the girls weren't really into it that made me laugh...

Anyway, long story short, at 1am I realised that this wasn't arousing me (although affected me, maybe: a man 'phoning up to sing a song of his own composition to McKenzie... that'll stay with you), so I retreated into my head, masturbated to orgasm, went up to the attic, got into the squashiest bed ever devised by mankind, and had a conversation with my shoulder angel about the girl I had a crush on... sorry, I mean "went to sleep".

I got my TV working the other day. It's not really been in commission for much recently. I don't watch a lot of TV, and although the set at the end of my bed works, it works intermittently. The built-in VCR doesn't work; I don't have a responsive DVD player (well, I have one but there's no remote) and there aren't any analogue signals any more, so merely plugging an aerial in doesn't elicit any response. Last week I plugged my SNES in and attempted to teach Jilly how to play Super Mario Bros. 3, but on this Sunday gone I suddenly decided I wanted to use it as a TV again.

Three hours later and I managed to finally get the damn thing working with the third digibox I found under my bed, a remote control that appears to match it, an aerial I didn't even know I possessed, and a random SCART cable. Oh, and the RF lead from my SNES. The picture's not perfect, and on some channels, like (annoyingly) Dave, I get a still picture and no sound, but at least it's better than static. And some channels work perfectly...

Babestation appears to have changed. It's no longer men texting in, it's now them 'phoning in to speak to the girl(s), who will do what they ask (if they want), while the viewer gets to see them rubbing themselves and moaning, which is obviously faked, but that's the nature of the beast. You don't get to hear the 'phonecalls, so essentially it's now voyeuristic 'phonesex, made slightly worse by the fact that when they're not on the 'phone, the girls have to do something to fill up the time. I was treated at one point to half an hour of a girl looking really very unhappy, waving her 'phone around as if to get rid of a mosquito, and trying to say enticing things, whereas I really thought that she would have been more successful reading a book or something.

I don't just get Babestation, though. Oh no. I get Babestation X, Babestation Xtra, Babestation Blue, and Playboy Chat, which is not (as I thought it might be) the Playboy Channel with a Rabbit-esque chat and date service running in the bottom bar - rather it's exactly the same format, with the bunny logo in the top left. This is getting ridiculous!

I'm not really going anywhere with this. Certainly Babestation isn't getting me anywhere, seeing as it's not taking me as far as my imagination could. But then again, I'm not really trying. Why would I, really, though? It was just curiosity that had me flicking to the adult section.

I only wanted my TV working because Red Dwarf was on Dave.

Sunday, 11 November 2012

Soft Porn Sunday: Sylvia Kristel & Jean-Pierre Bouvier

Although I know there are a number of different actresses to have played the title role - Laura Gemser, Marcela Walerstein, Holly Sampson, Natasja Vermeer, and Krista Allen to name but a few - the Emmanuelle series really started with Sylvia Kristel. She starred in the first four Emmanuelle movies, before being replaced in Emmanuelle IV by Mia Nygren (via the most contrived plot point ever - totally reconstructive plastic surgery) because, one presumes, she got a little tired of disrobing in exotic locales.

However.

She later returned to the series, and whatever may have happened in between and afterwards, Sylvia Kristel certainly left a lasting erotic legacy and was a gift to the world of soft porn. Last month she died - on 17 October 2012 - of complications. She was 60 years old and in Amsterdam. As it's Remembrance Sunday today (and the first Sunday I've had free since she died), I thought it might be a good opportunity to say here... "Goodbye, Emmanuelle".

Appearance: Goodbye Emmanuelle (1977)
Characters: Emmanuelle & Grégory

Goodbye - the third of the original Emmanuelle films - may not be the finest, but as far as I'm concerned, it's the most memorable. Why? Well, for a number of reasons. Emmanuelle is a lot more mature than who we originally saw in the first two - more sexually confident and more self-assured. It's got an incredibly memorable theme tune - I can still sing it now - and, crucially, I do remember the film even though I've only seen it once, and that was about ten years ago.

The boys in the sixth form were talking about watching it, seeing as it was on Channel 5 in their regular Friday-night-skin-slot, and although I said I didn't watch it, of course I did, ergo: when they started singing the theme song, I grinned inwardly to myself. Softcore was very different in the '70s, and this is a very good example. And - I would hope - a fitting tribute.

So. Plot. Emmanuelle is still with her husband from the first two films, but as ever, trouble comes along, in the form of Grégory (Jean-Pierre Bouvier), a handsome and tempting film director (a concept revisited years later in Emmanuelle: A Lesson in Love, where one of the characters is a film director), with whom Emmanuelle starts one of her sexy dalliances - cue the disrobing in exotic locations. This is the one I remembered the most.

The scene starts with Emmanuelle and Grégory walking naked on a beach. Immediately I'm struck by the amount of nudity there is here - you can see everything, including Emmanuelle's pubic hair, and Grégory's penis. In '77, softcore was a lot more raw... and although I do have to admit to the more polished stuff we have today, you have to accept there's a certain brazen charm to it. As both characters wander into the sea, Emmanuelle attempting a gleeful dive, you have to accept their ability to do that too! (One wonders where they filmed it. I'm guessing not in the UK.)

Emmanuelle prats around in the water for a bit before putting on a huge, beautiful smile (see the first picture above; click to embiggen) as Grégory swims up to her and they kiss, embrace and eventually begin to make love - all while staying in the water. We get a good look at both bodies as they have sex sitting up, roll about a bit and end up with him on top. This is followed by something special - her floating on top of the water while he has sex with her standing up - and for the remainder of the scene the two switch positions a few times, with a lot of kissing and touching to boot. And that's it.

It's difficult upon rewatching to put my finger on exactly what's different about this scene. I've said above that softcore was more "raw", and that's the only way I can put it. Everything here seems very real. The bodies are real, the scenery is real - it actually was filmed in the sea, you can clearly tell - and the sex seems real enough. Even Sylvia Kristel's gorgeous, radiant smile looks as real as it's going to get. I'm not completely crazy horny over this scene, it's true, but she really was a star. You can see why.

For such a long scene, I do have to wonder exactly why there isn't much variance in the sexual positions - why they didn't switch it up a bit - but actually, that makes it a little more realistic. Not every couple switches from astride to doggie to missionary to 71 every thirty seconds. The lack of variation indicates intimacy and satisfaction to me, and the way Kristel moves her body - including the things she does with her legs - manage to stop the scene being boring. It's not. It's entertaining for all of three minutes and three seconds... and that's no mean feat. The music - in a typical-for-the-'70s kind of way - is really quite uninspiring (in a contrast to the theme tune!), so bravo for holding my attention anyway, scene!

But what I do need to mention is the amount of kissing and touching. There's a lot of it, and whereas in more modern sex scenes that irritates me immensely, here it really adds an extra dimension. They're having an affair. Here, it's passionate and lusty. But the kisses, caresses, embraces - and the fact that they're having fun in the water - suggest a level of intimacy too, which you don't get in a lot of scenes. In some cases, it's like they're sharing something between themselves, and we are mere viewers. Without suggesting voyeurism.

That's how I see it, anyway.

In the modern era, we've had a lot more Emmanuelles, but people still refer back to Sylvia Kristel when talking about the series. Originally, I couldn't see why. Looking back on her now, I can. Her Emmanuelle is a beauty: an adventurous young sexy girl with a killer smile and a brilliant way of moving her body during not only this scene (although this is her best, I think) but all the times she gets involved. She brings all the facets of Emmanuelle Arsan's character to life, and wonderfully so. So I don't think that she'll ever be "my" Emmanuelle - but for her time, and to her credit, as Tim Booth would say, she was a star. And she shone brightly.

Goodbye, Emmanuelle.

Friday, 9 November 2012

Healthcare Assistant

Nobody enjoys being ill. Some people it seems to affect more than others. I get colds and stuff quite a lot (because I'm weeeeeeeak!), but I'm able to get through them if I really try - and get through them I will; on one memorable occasion I was about to go on stage to act in a serious play and my voice came out as somewhere between a croak and a wheeze. I went on and pushed the words out by breathing straight from the diaphragm. I did the whole play in a deep baritone and it worked as well as could be expected - I even sang the song I was meant to sing - but went to bed that evening feeling as if I'd never speak again.

But I digress. It's not me who's ill.

My girlfriend isn't well. I won't go into the logistics of it, suffice to say she isn't dying: she's just not well. It's something that can be effectively cured by paracetamol, bed rest and large amounts of orange juice, and thus I'm on healthcare duty. I volunteered for this, of course, to the extent that she is, in fact, on bed rest in my bed and hasn't been home for a while. Considering how she's sharing a room in her house, and the only visitor to my room is a cat, I think I'm qualified in saying that I'm perfectly confident in the knowledge that she's making a quick recovery here. Not that we've been having sex, exactly; this is a testament to the strength of love without sex (excuse me while I make another tally mark in my book). I'm just hoping she ends up perfectly healthy and mobile again.

It's good for me, too. I don't really get off on the holier-than-thou attitude that I could dredge up from taking care of her - even though watching someone sleep isn't exactly difficult - but I do like to feel as if I'm doing something useful. And to be fair, being useful is something I'm doing. It's not as if I have much else to do (I came online when she went to sleep, and after half an hour I started playing Superfrog and have only just stopped doing so), but in a way I'm spending more time with my girlfriend, and that's the best use of my days, in my opinion, so it's all good.

May not be the best reason for waking up to find a naked girl sitting up in bed next to you. But it's always nice to get that feeling of skin - and to dispense cuddles when you know they're doing exactly what they're designed to do.

Wednesday, 7 November 2012

Following a Trend

Inexperienced as I am with maths, I think that I got the following equation correct:
Sex-positive ≠ BD/SM
Ergo:

Sex-positive blog ≠ BD/SM blog

I'll explain.

A lot of people would do well to remember this, in my humble opinion. Some sex blogs - but not all - are focused around BD/SM, which is perfectly understandable, if BD/SM is your kink and you want to be openly exploring it. This is fine - but it's also fine to be perfectly vanilla, or pansexual, or experimenting, or a virgin. Or whatever you consider is important to you and your sex life. It's your sex life, after all, and essentially it's your blog.

I read a lot of blogs, and being a sex blogger myself, naturally the genre I read is very similar - as I'm sure you know. A lot of my friends (and some of my best friends... and, indeed, my girlfriend) are sex bloggers too. I love the community, I love the networking aspect, I love the people, and I love how open about sex people in this community can be...

...however.

Since 50 Shades of Grey was released, it's been almost universally reviled by not just the BD/SM community, but the sex-positive community at large (although I don't claim to be representative of either, I have yet to hear a single positive thing about that book). As a backlash to this, a lot of blogs - noticeably - have taken to recording more BD/SM exploits than they otherwise would have. (Not mentioning any names, but you probably know the blogs I'm talking about.) I believe the rationale behind this goes something like:


This woman clearly doesn't know anything about BD/SM. Let's show her how it's done.


Which is also fine. The problem I have with this is that, not only has it changed the style of some blogs I know and love (not necessarily for the worse; it's just not what I've come to expect), it's also thrown almost the entire sex blogging community into a different sort of light. Some of my non-sex-blogging friends (read: everyone's favourite young raver) have regarded sex blogs as entirely written by BD/SM practitioners, which couldn't be further from the truth. We're also getting a lot more stuff around the blogosphere about being a strong submissive, a desire to be dominant, fantasies about being tied up, toys that hurt, spanks, restraints, teasing and orgasm denial.

This blog isn't about any of that. I'm pretty much vanilla, as you know, and any bit of light bondage I've indulged in over the years has been nothing more than fun. I don't enjoy pain and I don't really have much of a kink (apart from pleasure) - and something that makes me feel almost as if I don't belong in this community. Me. I've been part of the sex blog community since 2007 and more recently it seems as if I'm not kinky enough.

I don't have anything against BD/SM or kink, just as I don't have anything against sex. I think sex is wonderfully adaptable, insofar as you can turn it to suit whatever gets you off or whatever you think suits you. But please, everyone, don't start equating liking sex to liking BD/SM. It's not the same thing, it's not the same attitude, and it's certainly not representative or the entire blogosphere - not as I know it.

Because, as I'm sure you're aware too, you don't have to be hurting to enjoy sex.

Monday, 5 November 2012

Ice Ice Baby

I would like, here and now, to make this solemn vow in the form of a public announcement: I love my convection heater.

In these frozen times and frozen climes, there are few worse places to be than my bedroom, which (although it looks quite nice aesthetically when lit up with all four bulbs) has three outside walls, so that (despite my parents' repetition that they've turned the heating on and I shouldn't be cold, and am I actually part lizard?) I am effectively living in a block of ice. In which the radiator doesn't work. Or at least it does, but all its heat range covers is one corner of my bed and a box full of sex toys. It is a weedy radiator.

As you may know if you have been paying attention, I have both been entertaining H and having feathers drawn across my naked body this weekend, making it necessary to have some form of heat source in the centre of my room, bringing glorious warmth to all and sundry, negating the minus zero temperatures we appear to have started getting recently...

(Seriously. I started walking to my new job this morning through Central London and some people were wearing snow shoes. Honest. As sure as I'm riding this bicycle.)

...which is where my convection heater comes in.

Sick of having me walk into his study and  let out the refrain of, "oooh, it's nice and warm in here!" in an exaggerated voice only matched in impact by saying "this is the quicksand room" in a low voice from your stomach (try it, it's amazing), my dad finally suggested I "borrow" his convection heater, and he'd use the one from the attic, now my cousin has moved out of it permanently and we know it works (it used to be mine). I accepted this offer, and instantly regretted doing so when it turned out that this heater was about as effective as Nick Clegg's 2010 election promises.

It took you about a few seconds to work out what I should have done, didn't it? Took me about a week. It was only after seven days of considering setting myself on fire to realise that if I liked the old convection heater, I should just go and take it, returning my dad's one at the same time.

So I did.

And now I have not only the wonderful effect of being able to say, "it's a jungle out there!" whenever the hot air blasts my face as I enter my room, I am also able to be naked and sexy in the comfort of my own room...

...which, let's face it, is what winter is all about.