Monday, 31 March 2008

VHSex: Kama Sutra

I was idly flicking through Radio Times last night (it had been a boring weekend, mostly) and Channel 4's schedule - Channel 4 is one of the best terrestrial channels, if not the best at times; my preference is 2, 4, 1, 5, 3 - seemed enticing. Surreptitiously (and hoping not to catch the attention of either of my parents, neither of whom were in the room at the time), I slipped a blank VHS into the VCR, set the channel to 4 and hit record. I'll be watching the tape in bits.

First on the tape is Kama Sutra, which I've been watching this afternoon. Unlike some movies that bear the same name, this one is surprisingly well-thought-out and underrated (although Radio Times gave it 3 stars, which is why I was intrigued). Rather than being a blasé visual sex-scene frenzy, it's more of a movie about forbidden lusts, dis-/obedience, the art of love leading to the act of it, and the relationship between sex and art.

There's a bit of a plot. There's not much of it, to be honest, but there's a lot more plot than what one may have come to expect. The emphasis, however, appears to be on the cinematography. Emotions and feelings, and sounds too, are the things that come through most apparently, and there's definitely a certain degree of bare skin (and bare skin on bare skin) too. Set in India, the skin is often a lovely shade of light brown too, which gives the view a nice feel to it.

The sex scenes are amazing. There's no music, but there's sound. It's usually very intense (there are a couple of scenes around the middle of the film which are perfect examples of the passion), and a lot of focus on what the characters' faces, feet, backs, et ceteri look like, rather than the breast shots you usually get in porn (breasts are evident, but not a constant focus, except for a scene which is focused around kissing breasts in particular). And the main character's attitudes towards sex change (positively) throughout the film, which is a good representation of what happens to a young woman once she begins exploring!

All in all, I'm pleasantly surprised by this film. It's clever, and very artfully put-together, without being too 'into' or 'out of' sex. I don't think it's 'getting-off' material, but it's definitely going to generate a bit of steam...

Saturday, 29 March 2008

IL/b/: A Drama Of Epic Proportions

"I have her!" screamed Villain at the top of his voice.
"Excuse me - who?" asked Innocent Loverboy.
"Blacksilk! I've captured her, and Lady Pandorah too! And you'll never rescue either of them on your own!" At the end of this speech, Villain vanished.
"Oh, no!" said ILB.
"Oh, blimey!" said Fractal.
"Oh, crackers!" said Mister.
"LOL WUT?" said Anonymous, suddenly appearing.
The four boys decided to try and rescue the girls because, well, what else was there to do on a Saturday afternoon?

They battled their way through the Dating Site Forest, hacking off all the tribes of money-hungry camgirls. They scaled the Craigslist Mountain, minding all the pitfalls along the way. They even came into a lot of trouble when Anonymous ate all their food, but still they persevered. At last, they ended up in the Stereotypical Desert, wherein they found Villain's camp.

"Hey, Villain!" yelled Fractal. "Come out and face us all! You'll have to fight us because we want our girls back!"
Villain appeared in a puff of smoke.
"They're tied up in the tent over there," he sneered. "Blacksilk seems to be liking it a bit too much. But never mind that - you'll never get them back!
"Ah, but there are four of us and one of you!" said ILB.
"OMG LOL!!!1," added Anonymous.

"Okay... choose your method of battle," declared Villain, "Loot, Pillage, Worms, Pokémon, or Penis?"
"Penis!" said Anonymous, before anyone else could stop him.
"Penis, it is, then," replied Villain. And he got out his penis.

It was three metres long.

"Blimey!" said our heroes together.

"You must beat this one," said Villain. "And no jokes about beating a penis in dubious taste."

Fractal stepped up first. His penis was amazingly long - about a metre.
"Not bad," said Villain, "but you still need a bit more to beat me."
Mister stepped forwards and unsheathed his penis. It, too, was a metre.
"Still, one metre left," said Villain, "but you'll never get there."
ILB nervously got out his penis. It was about 98 centimetres, and fell short of the mark.
"Three centimetres more to beat me," said Villain.
Anonymous stepped forwards, and bared his penis. It was two and a half centimetres.

Villain was apoplectic with rage. "What?!" he yelled. "But that's not fair! Well, you can't have the girls back anyway!"

Suddenly, Blacksilk and Lady Pandorah appeared behind him. They had escaped, and took this opportunity to beat him up.

"Well, we kind of saved the day," said ILB. "Even though we didn't do much."
"We showed our penis length," said Fractal. "Mine was really long, I think you should be thanking me."
"Actually," said Mister, "you guys should be thanking me. I made up the extra length."
"I chipped in, too," said ILB. "Without my penis, we wouldn't have beaten him."
Everyone looked at Anonymous.
"ZOMG!," he exclaimed. "I had an erection!"

Thursday, 27 March 2008

Hot Rain (aka: Under The Waterfall)

Jess says:
though not sure its working right this i sit here with a towel wrapped round my head; not the greatest look in the world

ILB says:

It's accompanied with fresh-out-of-the-shower, though... and that's VERY sexy

Jess says:
i'm thinking theres a blog post in there somewhere

I've never been too sure about shower sex... but I have to admit to having indulged in it once, and I also have to admit the thought of it is rather sexy.

Sex in the bath IS sexy. Not only is there the inherent danger of flooding the house should you move too much (therefore necessitating slow, careful sexual intercourse, which feels great and also a little frustrating - you have to follow it up by frantic, hard sex on the bathroom floor, in my opinion). But that's bath sex - it's something you do when you've done anything else. What this post is about happens to be making love while standing under a cascade of temperature-controlled water.

It's something that often happens in softcore films when they've run out of other situations. In these scenarios, the women, who have huge tits, are always pushed against the glass walls of the shower, smushing their breasts against said glass, and that increases their volume tenfold. She is then, invariably, lifted off her feet and pressed against a wall, the man thrusting into her at a steady pace, as she opens her mouth in ecstasy. While this is happening, the shower is going on, thus making both actors wet. It also makes their hair look stupid.

That's not sexy.

I think the attraction of shower sex is the taboo nature of it all - you're clearly not meant to have sex in a shower. There's also the wonderful irony of it all, too - getting dirty in a place where you're supposed to be clean. Plus, all the messy byproducts of sex (not that those aren't fun, but they're a bugger to clean up if you haven't got long) are washed away. But the shower cubicles in real life (especially, I might add, in university halls if you have one of those pod things) are far too small to do any of that stuff you see in the softcore films. (No shower is actually that big...) That, and sex while standing up for too long is painful. And, you know, the stuff they do in the films is physically impossible.

I've had sex in a mercifully large shower before, but we cheated. We had sex standing up for all of four whole seconds before sinking to the floor and carrying on there, her sitting on me. It was good - mind you, sex with her was always good - but the water falling from above was a problem.
You get wet during sex anyway. The act produces love juices from both parties, AND you sweat a lot. You also kiss. The excess water wasn't doing much for me except getting in my eyes, and my eyes hate water. They're, like, super-water-sensitive.

I think by far the sexiest thing about showers, however, is the way you look after you've taken a shower, especially if you're about to go to bed. A soft, moist (but not dripping wet), sultry look works wonders.
In fact, why not combine that after-shower-glow with sex? Once you've had a shower - together - you can dry off, together. And drying each other can be fun. (Incidentally, one of the best feelings is having your hair dried by someone else. I don't know what it is, but it feels fantastic if someone else is wielding the hairdryer...) Then I'm sure you can have hot, safe, dry sex on a bed. If you can make it to a bed after rubbing each other with a soft towel, that is.

There's no need to have sex in the shower to make the most of it, though. Some people have great ideas in the shower. Other people, however, have less great ideas. I heard of this one guy who decided to start a sex blog while in the shower...

Wednesday, 26 March 2008

I stole this quiz - again...

How are you in bed
created with
You scored as A Romantic

You're a romantic through and through. You may not ever
have very many partners, but it's ok.

You know that it's about the person who you're having it with,
and that the sex is more of a fun biproduct - a very fun biprodict.

You know how to make your partner happy, and that's what it's all about.

A Romantic


Sex God




A Slave To BDSM


Monday, 24 March 2008

Six Words

Hmmm. I've been tagged. I think I may have brought this on myself; not that I complain, you understand. Okay, here are six words and an image:

Innocent is False ~ Loverboy is True

Check me out, I'm being emo. With that sort of attitude, I'm thinking I should have put something along the lines of "* ~ a tear shed for those lost ~ *", but I may have had to commit seppuku after even considering that.

Okay, I tag LucyBoots. Since she is extremely busy, keeps going offline, and doesn't read ILB very often (if at all), there's practically zero chance of this meme being passed on.

Innocent Loverboy.
Stamping out pointless Blogger memes since 2007.

Sunday, 23 March 2008


So, it's Easter Sunday. Allegedly, 2000-ish years ago (he was born in 4BC, and died at age 33, you do the maths seeing as how I hate maths), Jesus popped back into life, rolled the stone out of his tomb's doorway and wandered off to see his mates again. Pretty amazing guy, that Jesus. But then again, what would you expect when your Dad's actually GOD himself? What a playground statement that would be? "What does your dad do? He's a stockbroker? Oh, mine's just GOD, you know..."

What is it with me being all Christian on this blog these days? Not that there's anything wrong with Christianity - it's a very cool religion, depending on how you interpret the Bible - but one may claim that it's not exactly an expected opening theme on a sex blog.

Ha-ha! Wrong!

*Slight pause while ILB reaches over to his bedside table, and pulls a battered old NIV Bible from underneath Batman: No Man's Land Volume Two*

One of the most overlooked books in the Bible is basically a spiritually indoctrinating, heavily sensual, almost euphoric celebration of the act of physical lovemaking equalled only by Victoria Wood's The Ballad of Barry and Frieda. I am, of course, referring to Solomon's classic Song of Songs. If you have a copy of the Bible around you, I suggest that you have a look at this one - it's between Ecclesiastes and Isaiah.
Song of Songs is the kind of thing that can restore your faith in both God and humanity. It's divided into stanza which are each headed either Friends, Lover, or Beloved... although, from the sounds of the book, old Solomon was either blending all three together or overlapping their meanings. There is absolutely no question that it is referring to sexuality for both men and women - even according to Wikipedia, "Feminist theologians have interpreted the Song of Songs as a positive representation of sexuality and egalitarian gender relations within the Bible." It's heavily probable that the Lover and the Beloved are two different people, singing to each other.

I could go on for ages about the different interpretations (in fact, if I ever become a priest, I will), but I feel it's better if I quote directly from "God's Word":

You are a garden locked up, my sister, my bride; (some scholars believe that 'sister' probably did not mean Solomon's sibling)
you are a spring enclosed, a sealed fountain.
Your plants are an orchard of pomegranates
with choice fruits,
with henna and nard,
nard and saffron,
calamus and cinnamon,
with every kind of incense tree,
with myrrh and aloes
and all the finest spices.
You are a garden fountain,
a well of flowing water
streaming down from Lebanon.

(Song of Songs, Lover - 4:12-15)

And one for the boys:

I am a wall,
and my breasts are like towers.
Thus I have become in his eyes
like one bringing contentment.

(Song of Songs, Beloved - 8:10)

As if they weren't enough, the book ends thus:

Come away, my lover,
and be like a gazelle
or like a young stag
on the spice-laden mountains.

(Song of Songs, Beloved - 8:14)

I challenge any scholar or artist (or preferably both, as I'd probably have to sleep with anyone who falls into both of those categories, especially if she wears square glasses too...) to read through the whole book - or even the selected passages above - and then try to claim that there's nothing to do with love or sex in the Bible. If, as Evangelical Christians claim (and I'm glad I'm not one of them), the Bible is God-breathed, word for word, then they had better start consummating their love in bed soon, because Solomon said so!

And he's not called "Solomon the Wise" for nothing, is he?

Friday, 21 March 2008

Sex-Is-Good Friday

I like Spring, I like holidays, I like chocolate, and I like Jesus, so - for all intents and purposes - I quite like Easter. Furthermore, we all get a four-day weekend this time around, and seeing as how I'm not a student it doesn't clash with any holiday I happen to be taking, which is really nice.

Easter, of course, marks the end of Lent. I've never been quite sure about when it ends; I should be, but unless I can be corrected, it ends on Palm Sunday, so maybe this post is a little late. 40 days of giving something up, because Jesus went on a long fast. Well, Jesus may have been able to fast, but he was the Son of God, so he could do stuff like that. As evidenced in "The Vicar Of Dibley", however, it's a little harder for us bog-standard humans to be able to give something up.

I don't do it; there's nothing I feel like giving up (and, frankly, I don't need to prove to myself that I like Jesus). However, the memory will always stick in my mind of a 62-year-old woman I used to work with saying, out loud, with relish, "I'm givin' up sex."
I know, I know - 62, you'd think she wouldn't be having any anyway, right? But this woman was an amazing, dynamic person - and still is; working hard, married with children (and grandchildren, I believe), and confident enough in her humour to get a laugh out of giving up sex... although it was the way she just came out with it that made it funny. Anyway, I digress.

I always said, too, that I was giving up sex over Lent. It would be easy to do as I never seem to get any sex anyway, so there - problem solved. Speaking of which, I'd be able to give up drugs, alcohol, smoking, and eating meat as well. Five things!
However, this year I actually had sex during Lent. Ergo, my usual adage didn't work. Never mind.

I fail to see, however, why giving up something like sex is something that should even be considered. I can sort of understand giving up something that would be detrimental to your health - but for spiritual enrichment, why give up something that makes you feel good? Surely, if Jesus died so that we can enjoy life, sex should be encouraged? That is, of course, the way I see it. So, next time Lent rolls around, I'll be encouraging more sex than usual - just to make up for those who will actually try to cut down (or even give up wanking - that's pointless).

Though I'm sure the vicar would give a different point of view, had he got an actual answer to, "Have you given anything up for Lent, Mrs K?"

Thursday, 20 March 2008


I was tired - shattered, actually. We're talking something along the lines of exhaustedplusplus. I'm not even sure why I was tired. I was at work, I had just had a meeting which had lasted far too long, and I was sitting in the staff room with my eyes closed, a cup of tea and a biscuit, trying to find some inner peace.

Other people walked in, and soon the room became a hive of activity, as it always does. People were discussing work and drinking tea and, in their own ways, trying to find inner peace too. Then this girl walked in.

She has a very loud voice, so it's not difficult to know when she's going to walk into a room - and it's not like there was anything different about the way she looked, either. She was just there, and she had every right to be. But - I don't know what it was - something about her made my heart squeeze.

My pulse was racing. I was tired and lazing back, but I felt as if I should stand up straight (let's not split hairs - there was something else that was wanting to stand up straight too...). I just couldn't help looking at her, as if I'd never seen her before.

As I said - there was nothing special. I don't even have any sort of crush on this girl. But I was tired, and I was fed up, and in that one moment of forced calm and energy flux, I was very glad to see her there, and I was very glad that she always looks that good.

Monday, 17 March 2008

One Year Later

I am now twentythree years of age.

Birthday sex plz? kthxbai.

Sunday, 16 March 2008

Addiction V: Mee-ow!

Hedonistically, I don't place much value in pain. I'm not into B&D, or S&M. I don't like paddles, whips, chains, or riding crops. I don't like being spanked, except for a very light whack on the bum during sex to speed me up a little - and even then, it's the increase in speed that works for me. Being bitten, hit, or having any part of me twisted or burned is a real turn-off. Where's the love in pain, eh? Where is it?

But I do like being scratched.

Uh, I need to explain that, but it's not too difficult... when I was young, my back caused me a lot of problems. My Nanna, who was my carer at the time, used to scratch it to calm my skin down;
I have an odd skin condition (without a name) that makes it itch when exposed to tepid water. My baths have to be either really hot or really cold (so I take showers), and on hot days, if I walk anywhere with too many layers on I sweat a lot and end up itching a hell of a lot more. This also happens on cold days, and I have been known to stand outside in the cold for a bit because I'm itching a lot.
If I take regular showers, my skin isn't as bad. The amount of sweat produced during sex doesn't seem to have the same effect, but then again, I'm not wearing anything during sex; therefore, the only excess heat is passed through bodies. Plus, I'm concentrating on other sensations too...
Anyway, that's all beside the point. My back was scratched a lot in my youth. This calmed my skin down. It's a good feeling too.

As I've grown older, I've come across the problem that EVERY OTHER FREAKING BOY UNDER THE SUN has managed to get - my back has flaked out a bit, and at some points gained spots. Because of my skin, however, it affects me more than others, and once is starts to itch, I actually can't stop it. I have to scratch it myself, which is profoundly difficult, particularly when updating a sex blog, because as I'm finding out, it's difficult to type with one hand. Although not as difficult as it would be if this were the first time I'd been typing with one hand. Ahem!

This is why, as a prelude or preferably postlude to sex, I like to have my back scratched. In my case, the harder the scratches, the better. It doesn't hurt, per se (as long as it's not a scratch administered with the cat o'nine tails - I'm talking fingernails here) and it's not with malicious intent if you know what you're doing. It's pleasant for me to have my back scratched. And from some of the girls' reports, it's pleasant for them too. It even seems to turn them on - I'm talking majorly here. But maybe that's because I'm a guitarist and have finely shaped fingernails. That, or it's something I'm good at. Or there really is something to be said for having sharp objects raked along your back.

Tip, for any of the girls that may end up in bed with me, though: I don't like being hurt. But if you do want to scratch my back, and maybe add some tea tree oil, then I'll love you in a very physical way afterwards. And if the e-mail I just got is to be believed, my giant jang will rule the world. So it might be nice to get some practice in now, because I might need some nice girls to serve me while declaring all those rules...

Friday, 14 March 2008

Shear brilliance

Okay, so... I've hinted at certain things on my blog before, which I can't exactly elaborate upon due to the nature of staying anonymous. What I am going to say, however, is that due to necessity rather than request, my hair was cut on Tuesday.


The hairstyle that made me look either pretty or like Severus Snape, depending on its state, was one I had for about seven years. I had long, dark, shiny black hair with brown streaks in summer, which went curly at the ends and cascaded down to my shoulders. It made me feel very much like myself - my grandparents didn't like it, but it was my hairstyle. And there were several advantages; I was easy to spot in a crowd, unique, my face appeared thinner, it worked well with my blue eyes, and I sometimes felt very feminine which, in a world of testosterone-fuelled masculinity, isn't really a bad thing!
Plus, Rebecca once noted that it fell back into its natural form without any effort at all after sex, which messed up her hair rather a lot. Even Lily said she liked my hair.

But I got it cut off. I needed to have hair in the '60s style. The only people who had longish hair in the '60s were the Beatles. So, standard boy's cut it was. My curly locks were removed by a stylist who actually knew what he was doing, but that's not the point; they were removed. I now have very short hair.

I don't like it.

Everyone else thinks I look devastatingly handsome with short hair. All the people at work (and let's be honest here, most of them are middle-aged women old enough to be my mother, but there are a couple my age) have commented on it. My sister has commented on it (saying that it doesn't make my face look fat, which it does). My mother won't shut the fuck up about it. I'm dreading my grandparents' reaction this evening.

I guess you can't argue with fact - everyone else likes it. But, the way I see it, I don't like it - I didn't choose to get my hair cut off - and I've come no closer to getting any sort of romantic action at all. Plus, I don't feel like me as much as I used to.

Man, I can be such a loser sometimes.

Thursday, 13 March 2008

I'm a dirty, dirty thief

[[I stole this from Blacksilk. Not that she's guiltless, as she stole it from Tom. Which is appropriate, as I'm so wonderfully vanilla. Hee.]]

1. What are your seven favourite tactile things that turn you on? Sex (like oral, or penetrative) cannot be an answer. (Examples: silk, light tickling, etc)

i) Kisses - preferably deep ones which last for a long time.
ii) Cuddles... comfortable ones.
iii) Back massages. They really turn me on.
iv) Giving back massages.
v) Scratching behind my ears, like you do to a cat...
vi) Stroking through my hair.
vii) Holding hands. I'm traditional like that.

2. What are your non-genital erogenous zones and what do you like done to them?

My arse, stroked or lightly hit (but only lightly and only during sex). It's actually very sensitive. Otherwise, my nipples - obvious, I know, but I like to be touched there. In fact, the whole broad area of my chest. It doesn't need to be nipples - just a hand on my chest is really nice. And my cheeks, too...

3. What sounds get you sexually charged?

Orgasm noises. Usually the fake ones they give off in porn are a little revolting, but genuine moans of passion are very nice indeed. I'm also turned on my sweet voices and music I've heard in erotica. (Bonus Fun-Fact-Time: The same pieces of music have been encountered in a few different erotic TV shows. One particular one, although I don't know its name, has been used more often than others and is instantly recognisable from the first few bars.)

4. After losing your virginity, what is the longest you’ve gone without penetrative sex?

About three years, maybe. *thinks* Yeah, three years.

5. What is your least favourite sexual position? Why don’t you like it?

This depends almost exclusively on the person I'm with. For me, my favourite position is the missionary position, but as we all know by now, I care more about whoever it is I'm trying to please, so... I'm not sure about least favourite, as long as it pleases her.
When the girl I'm with is large, it's astride, mostly because it's painful with a really heavy girl sitting on you, and you can't move much. Conversely, when she's small (and I've been with two thin/athletic girls), it's a great position, because you can fly about mindlessly, and thrust into her from below which often feel great for both boy and girl.
Standing up is also painful when you ejaculate, although not before. But I've talked about this already. It's a hot position though.
I guess in all cases, however, my least favourite position is the scissors (not the lesbian scissors, the both-lying-on-the-side-one) position, because it's actually incredibly painful to keep a leg up in the air all the time. Not that the boy often needs to do this, but it's not great when you feel that you're crushing someone's leg, either.

Bonus (as in optional):
If you could sexually dominate or submit to 5 people, currently living or deceased - which 5 would it be?

Since I neither dominate nor submit (although naturally I'm submissive), it's difficult to answer this question. OK, well, I guess I'd submit to: Laura Angel, because she would know what she's doing; Shakira, because - let's be honest - I'd love to be sat on with those hips gyrating; any one of my crushes, because I'm so eager to please; Kaori Shimizu, because I've only ever seen her submissive and it'd be interesting, and Power Girl. I don't need a reason!

Wednesday, 12 March 2008

How Not To Get Laid

I wonder if any of you have seen so far, and if not, why not?

Now would be a very good time to go and check it out, seeing as how one of the cutest and most adorable sex bloggers has provided the site with one of his sure-fire smash failures.

Tuesday, 11 March 2008

Action Stations

The really hot, attractive, funny, sexy and friendly girl who works in the room directly below the one I work in is back at work after her sickness. Needless to say, I'm not unhappy about that.

Due to the fact I got to tell her that I'm going to be in a professional movie later on this year, I'm not unhappy about that either.

Not that she's girlfriend material. I mean, she likes rugby.

Friday, 7 March 2008


"I'm getting worried about you," my Nan said as I munched happily on the sandwich she'd made me.
"Mmmm?" I managed.
"You don't have a girlfriend, so I'm worried about you," she repeated.

Oh, my God. She's about to say, "I think you're gay." I can hear it coming now.

"You should get one."

Then again, she didn't work out that my sister was bisexual.

"Maybe I should."
"Why don't you?"
"It's not as easy as that, Nan."
"Well, where do you go to meet girls?"
"I don't know, Nan."
"Well, you don't go nightclubbing, thank goodness."
"Actually, I do go clubbing sometimes. But I don't go to pull, I go to dance. I get into the club, dance for an hour or so and then have a Coke and leave."
"Why don't you try the Baptist church?"
"I don't want to go to the Baptist church. I want to go to the church I go to."

Incidentally, the church you go to.

"But the Baptist church has a lot of young people."
"Nan, I don't want to go to church to find a girlfriend. I want to go to church to find God."
"But you'll find someone like you."

Oh, no. I'll never find someone like me.

"Nan, I don't like Christian youth. They're all very intense."
"Well, what about someone else? What about the girl you really like? Do you still like her?"
"Why haven't you asked her out?"
"Because she told me not to."


"Why don't you turn on the charm?"
"Nan, I do. I flirt all the time. I flirt with everyone. I'm a terrible flirt."
"You should still get a girlfriend."

I sighed deeply, tried to work out the best way of explaining that it's not as easy as she thinks it is, and went back to my sandwich.

Thursday, 6 March 2008


Lily Allen's album is depressing.

Okay, just bear with me for a while. In popular culture, and Allen's album is a very good example, when a boy and a girl break up (usually through one cheating on the other - although in real life, girls are - in my experience - always more likely to cheat), the girl then decides that:

boys are stupid, throw rocks at them!

Boys aren't worth it. One boy broke up with you, and that automatically damns the entire male gender. Not that the boy cared, because he's fucking the girl next door.

Boys don't do the same thing. Girls don't in real life, anyway, but I'm talking popular culture here; boys are made of tougher stuff than girls. And boys don't talk to girls, unless they're going out with them.


Where, may I ask, has this point of view come from?

Yesterday, I went through a bad experience. I didn't even scratch the surface in my previous post, mostly because I want to forget about it. But I didn't mention certain things - like the fact that she kept me waiting for 45 minutes at the station before bothering to pick up the phone and give me directions to her house; she wouldn't let me use her toilet; she didn't give me a kiss goodbye; she barely even spoke to me. All this, and I'm convinced that, somehow, it's my fault I didn't enjoy the sex.

This is me a few years ago, too; I was certain of the fact that Rebecca wouldn't have broken up with me, had I been a better boyfriend. She was the one who cheated on me with multiple people, but I felt that - for some reason - it was my fault I wasn't more handsome / thinner / older / whatever reason she had for fucking everyone else she could, because she could.

By the logic laid out above, I should just give up on girls totally. In fact, I should have given up years ago. But I can't. Most of my friends are girls. Most of my colleagues are girls. Most of the people who read this (Tom aside) are girls. I'm not, for whatever reason, just going to decide all girls suck because of what a couple of them have done to me. That would just be... well, sexist.

I don't see why I need to give a reason for everything, but if I have to, I'd just blame myself for everything. It may not be right... but it's easy.

Wednesday, 5 March 2008


I got laid this afternoon in interesting circumstances. It wasn't very enjoyable.

Yes, I just said that.

I started talking, yesterday (yes, yesterday!), to a girl who I'll call Lily. She seemed like a girl of few words, but she was/is black, attractive and quite keen on sex. We mutually agreed to hook up and, although that phrase could have multiple meanings, when I left work and travelled straight across London to go and see her (rather reckless of me, right?), I think we both knew that we'd end up having sex.

"Sorry I took so long," I said, turning on the charm as I stepped through her front door. "I took the scenic route."
"Okay, your name is...?"
"[Lily]", said Lily.
"Pretty name. I'm [ILB]," I said.
We shook hands.

I was very nervous - practically shaking - when she took me through to her house's front room. It was very dark, and there was a giant TV. A few computers and some clothes strewn around. Not the idyllic setting to be shagging, but I thought it was pleasant enough.
Lily explained that we had 45 minutes to play before she had to go to work. I was still very nervous and was even more put out when she turned on the huge TV - loud - before sitting on my lap and starting to kiss. I've always wanted to have sex with a black girl, and I'd always visualised it as starting with kisses - but not in this situation. I'd always thought we'd flirt a little before; all I'd done was say she had a sexy voice (she is American, apparently) before she started going for the big one. Plus, she didn't seem to be wanting to kiss much. Every kiss was a small peck... not a teasing one, not a leading one, not a deep, passionate, warm one either...

We'll skip through the stages of her stripping off her top, me kissing her breasts, and then me licking her out (this one, she did enjoy. Told you I was good.); by the time we got around to having sex, she had me lying on the floor on my back. My clothes were still on; my trousers and pants were down. She wanked me for a bit, and that HURT. I gave a little gasp of pain that I think she took for pleasure. She rolled a condom onto me, and sank down on top of me. She shuddered and gasped... I didn't feel anything at all.
I'll point out here that Lily is a larger-than-average girl, but I've slept with the same type before and loved it. This time, it was as if I didn't have a penis. She was riding me with a lot of enthusiasm, so fair play to her - but I wasn't feeling anything. It's a wonder I was still hard.

We flipped over and I got on top and started doing her that way. This was better, but there was still something amiss - she was insisting that I suck her breasts ("Harder! Suck them harder!") and so forth while I was thrusting. I did so, not minding it, but she wasn't wanting to kiss mouth-to-mouth. Every time I tried, she turned her head, and even pushed me away. I got her cheek and her breasts... but not her mouth. WTF?
After a few minutes of sex, she asked me if I'd come yet. Wow, way to emasculate me, Lily. Either she was getting bored, or genuinely curious that someone could take that much without having an orgasm. That, or I was getting softer.

"It's too soft," she said. "I want you to fuck me with my vibrator."

This I did. I've never even seen a vibrator in real life before, so this was an interesting experience, but to me, it said, "evidently your penis isn't good enough". I handled it skilfully enough for her to have a full-on orgasm (which was kinda sexy). I went back to licking her, followed by more vibrator, followed by another orgasm. By this time, I was basically flaccid. There was no way I was getting any more sex out of this.

Orgasms achieved:
Lily: 2 (maybe 3)
ILB: 0

I bade her farewell after she'd satisfied herself. By this, I mean, I shuffled away guiltily.

It was bad sex, basically.
With Rebecca, it had been loving and gratifying and sexy.
With Louise, it had been hot, passionate and wild, and constant.
With Alicia, it had been fun, frisky and naughty.

But Lily was, it seemed, only interested in pleasing herself. She replaced sex with masturbation. She replaced oral with having me suck her breasts - basically, that's what I spent most of the time doing - and she replaced my penis with a vibrator. She had orgasms, I didn't.

I've been used.

Tuesday, 4 March 2008

Rockin' the Boat

I once made a friend dream about boatsex - that is, sex on a boat.

It was, of course, somewhat deliberate - we were having a merry little discourse about being on a boat, and suddenly I switched into flirt mode, and said quite innocently, "can we have sex on the boat, in the meantime?"

There's an infamous Jenna Jameson sex scene set on a boat, but then again, given the nature of porn, there's almost guaranteed to be a scene with Jenna Jameson in basically any given situation. In real life, it's much more unusual for one to engage in sexual intercourse in any sort of water transport. Or, for that matter, any unusual situation - as long as you assume from the outset that sex happens on top of a bed.

My experiences stretch as far as being felt up in a jacuzzi - twice, but never actually getting as far as sex in the jacuzzi... we've already agreed, this isn't porn - and, more adventurously, having sex in a restaurant bathroom. But there are a lot of more risqué unusual-places-to-have-sex. One girl I know has done it on a football field, a few in a car (it's cliché, but works), a good few in a tent or two, and who could forget the wonderful moment during a game of "I Have Never" when one of our number said quite cheerfully, "I've never had sex in a bed."

Then we all drank.

I guess what I'm saying here is: has anyone else had this sort of experience? I don't know what's so exciting about it, but it always seems fantastic. Then again, is the discomfort and riskiness of properly positioning yourself in a non-bed place worth it? Surely sex is better when it's comfortable?

I guess my 11-year-old cousin put it best when she said, "In the [primary school] sex education video, they show us this couple doing it on the floor, when there's a perfectly nice bed right next to them! I mean, why?"

We're a very highbrow family.

Sunday, 2 March 2008

The Sting

An orgasm is pleasurable. We all know an orgasm is pleasurable for both boy and girl. If boy and girl orgasm together, it's mind-blowing. Probably the best sensation ever, despite what may come before and after it. If you're lucky, of course, before it came foreplay with someone you love deeply, and after it comes a wave of calm and relaxation, sinking softly into dreams and falling deeper and deeper in love.

Sometimes, however, the boy's penis hurts.

It's not always after sex. After all, during sex you're inside a nice, soft girl. Despite extraneous circumstances regularly discussed on So Graham Norton and also encountered by devoted boyfriends named after colourful mathematical constructs, it's not the usual thing to suffer an amount of discomfort during sexual intercourse. In fact, the aim of having sex is quite the reverse.

Nevertheless, it's happened to me after masturbation, and once or twice after sex: my penis stings. Not overly evidently, but almost always when I need to use the toilet after an orgasm. It's a sensation that's going to be common to any male readers (even though most of my readers appear to be girls, you never know!), and it isn't a pleasant one. Sometimes, because of the build-up of blood in the erectile tissue, it can even appear bruised.

The best way to get rid of this sensation (if you're not totally grossed out by this post by now) is to take a rather warm (even hot) shower while you are stinging, and pee while in the shower. (Don't be pathetic. Practically everyone has managed to piss in the shower at some point. It's even something of a ritual.) The sensation of the hot water cascading over your naked body is great, and the slight stinging pain coupled with the relief of
micturating (seriously, it's a real word) abates very quickly while in this situation. Try it, it's fun. And for some reason, it feels great.

And, of course, you'll have just had an orgasm. Which also feels great.