Sunday, 31 December 2017

#orgasmcount

Because I'm probably about twelve mentally, I've been keeping a log in my diary of all the orgasms I've had this year.

Yes, really.

I've used the very simple system of drawing a little star in the corner of the paper whenever I orgasm, which both allows me to remember, keeps my pen working, and crucially, silently bemoans the fact that I don't orgasm nearly enough. I remember a system I once suggested as a record of sex... but there's no reason it can't be used for orgasms too... right?...

So, according to what I wrote down, these are the facts:

163 - the number of orgasms I had in 2017 (and, unless something incredible happens later today, that will be my final number!)

5 - the number of days on which I had more than one orgasm. I didn't have more than two in a day this year, but still, more than one.

November 1st, 2017 - the date I had the largest orgasm of the year. Yes, I seriously did record this, by adding exclamation marks to decorate my little star.

November 3, 2017 to November 13, 2017 - a ten-day period during which I had no orgasms at all. According to my diary, I was relatively busy with work and the like around this time, I'm not going to pretend that's an excuse.

Still, 163. That's less than half the year. I have, however, been keeping my sex drive up this year, which is relatively pleasing. What's more, although I didn't make 2016 Escape Velocity in terms of blog posts this year (FOR WHICH I HAVE NO EXCUSE), I am certainly a more prolific wanker than I am blogger. It's good to be successful at something.

Thursday, 28 December 2017

And to all, a good morning...

ILB: "Why do girls ejaculate?"
LLB: "Mmmmmmmmmm....?"
ILB: "Because, uh, when boys come, it's a biological thing, because their cum contains spermatozoa, so it facilitates reproduction, right?"
LLB: "..."
ILB: "But girls become wetter to facilitate intercourse, so why do they come? I mean, it's seriously hot - really, really hot - but why? Is there some biology behind it, or...?"
LLB: "..."
ILB: "..."
LLB: "...good morning?"

[ILB sits up in bed. He's been asleep for hours. This is the first thing he can remember saying.]

ILB: "Good morning!"

[Pause.]

ILB: "Okay, this is me, waking up."

Sunday, 24 December 2017

Soft Porn Sunday Special: ILB's Top 10 Sex Films

Christmas Eve, eh? I've been waiting for this... the inevitable build-up before the inevitable climax, which will probably be bitterly disappointing. This evening I'll be at my family party before walking to Mass with all my drunk cousins. A couple of years ago, my auntie spilled the blood of Christ on the floor. I certainly plan to include it in the Christmas dinner quiz tomorrow.

Something I've been working on over the week building up to Christmas is a sequence of lists I've been using to fill up the notepaper littering my desk. On Thursday evening I wrote out a lost of my "Top Ten" softcore films ever, not to be confused with the Top Ten scenes I did a year ago. I did, of course, think this was an easy task... two hours later, having completed it, I was a broken man. Difficult as it was to whittle it down to ten, putting them in actual order was practically impossible.

Still, it's my list, so I set myself some ground rules to make it even more difficult:

(i) It must be a full-length film. No individual episodes of series are permissible. So no Bedtime Stories, Passion Cove, Compromising Situations, Love Street or Co-Ed Confidential.
(ii) Full-length films (ie. one and a half hours or more) as part of a series of films are permissible, as are sequels, remakes and alternate versions, as long as they fit the time frame.
(iii) No hardcore. I've only ever seen a couple of full hardcore films, anyway - that's mostly scenes - but this lift should be purely softcore. I didn't find this one particularly difficult.
(iv) There must be a variety of producers in the list. They can't all be ASP or Surrender Cinema.
(v) Any genre of erotica is permitted, but you must be able to justify why you have chosen the film if it fits into any other genre (eg. erotic romance, erotic sci-fi, sex comedy, sexploitation).

And this is what my sweat and blood went into...

ILB's Top Ten Sex Films
...so far

10. Beneath the Valley of the Ultravixens (1979)
I wasn't sure whether to include this one, as I'm finding Russ Meyer more and more problematic as I get older. However, although it's probably not his most well-known, Beneath the Valley... is RM's last film (Pandora Peaks doesn't count), largely considered to be his funniest and is by far his most explicit. It's also got the most sex in it and, when I was a teenager, I thought it to be the pinnacle of sex films. It's also indirectly responsible for my first orgasm, so there's that.
Once I saw it, I became obsessed with seeing it again - which I did, once - before getting around to buying it once I hit 18. As one might expect, my memories were a little too affectionate; I didn't pick up on the finer points, and I imagined there to be more sex than there actually is. I also didn't expect the violence, but there you have it. RM may be more well-known for flicks like Vixen! and Faster, Pussycat! Kill! Kill!, but this holds a special place in my heart for being the one I wanted to see by far the most.

09. Dungeon of Desire (1999)
Another case of misremembered brilliance here, as I was convinced that there was a very hot scene between the wicked queen and her henchman in this Surrender B-grade erotic fantasy. There is such a scene, but it's actually pretty boring. Having seen it again a couple of times, however, it does have its merits - particularly one specific bit which must be my favourite lesbian sex scene ever (and I don't usually like lesbian stuff...), so there's that.
This one has a great cast, too - not just the usual suspects like Regina Russell and Amber Newman, but Mia Zottoli, Stella Porter, Susan Featherly and "good ol' Jason Schnuit" (plus Burke Morgan as a metal-loving Merlin) make for a pretty entertaining ride - even if the production value doesn't seem particularly high...

08. Escape from Pleasure Planet (2016)
By far the most recent on my list and one I didn't know existed until recently, and also the only one by Retromedia Entertainment (and probably filmed in a day, too). In fact, like Dungeon of Desire above, this is on my list because of a lesbian scene... but there's more than that. I'm not particularly enamoured with the rest of the scenes (although most of them do have their moments), but I do love the amount of effort that was put into this, the absolute nonsense of the plot, and the mind-meltingly hot actors they managed to hire for it.
Yes, it makes very little sense, and I think they managed to lose their thread about halfway through writing it (there isn't any real ending, either), but it does manage to hold onto its sci-fi roots, and shoehorns in a lot of sex where it can. It's no higher on this list, though, 'cause I think the last ten minutes are a little sexist.

07. Fast Lane to Vegas (2000)
The second in a series that began with Fast Lane to Malibu. It took me a while to getting around to seeing it in full, which I only managed recently, but I've been really enjoying it. It's well-made, brilliantly thought-out, and actually has a relatively complex plot, complete with fourth-wall-breaking soliloquising narration, multiple viewpoints, and a post-climax resolution (if it does resort to a "here we go again!" ending...).
There are some great sex scenes here - the obligatory Zottoli/Schnuit bonk-fest, the scene with Flower Edwards playing a Mexican señorita, the bit with Tera Patrick as a naked alien... but I've decided, following a few re-watches, that the best scene doesn't feature the two leads at all, and is in fact features Renee Rea as tritagonist Monica. It's one of the most lustful scenes recently, and is fast making its way onto my list of go-to scenes for a 'helping hand'.
That's almost second, though, to how much thought went into this, because for all the nudity, haphazard characterisation and loose morals, there's a genuine comedy here, hidden behind the softcore sheen.

06. Emmanuelle: Queen of the Galaxy (1994) - aka First Contact
Film one of seven in the ever-expanding Emmanuelle series and the first to feature both Krista Allen as Emmanuelle and Paul Michael Robinson as Haffron. This is a charming, gentle introduction into the series and a spirited attempt to update Emmanuelle, who at this point had been flagging a little. It's very mid-'90s, and it shows, but it's packed full of sex, even if Emmanuelle herself only seems to do it twice... and it sets up the rest of the series, which isn't something I've ever seen in an Emmanuelle film before.
This perhaps isn't as good as later films in the series (in terms of sex; the plot is unbeatable), and it flags a little in the third act - this could have cut that extra storyline out - but it's certainly very hot, worth a watch, and also just about as explicit as softcore gets, still without showing anything vital. And it also has some of my favourite quotes, as well - "what's money?"

05. Emmanuelle: One Last Fling (1994) - aka One Final Fling
Film six of seven in the... hang on, this seems familiar...
By this point in the series, Emmanuelle and Haffron are head-over-heels for each other and having sex at any given opportunity, and I really don't need to explain any further, do I?

04. Andromina: The Pleasure Planet (1999)
Not to be confused with the aforementioned Escape from Pleasure Planet (it's a different film, and a different company entirely!), this looks - for a bit - like it could have been adapted from a book. It wasn't, but it has different tribes of women on a hypersexual world without any men, an interstellar brothel-type planet, and it's a Surrender title so it's got Shannan Leigh, et al., in it. It has shades of Gor and a touch of Poul Anderson in its origins, and unlike a lot of the other Surrender titles, it doesn't take place inside a plastic castle.
There's very little sci-fi for something which is ostensibly sci-fi - it's closer to sword and planet than any other sub-genre - but there's a lot of sex in this, and it's all hot, from the curious opener with Susan Hale to the vocal fling with Shyra Deland and The Hulk to the reason I like Susan Featherly... but the absolute best, for me, is the stunning (and innocently stereotyped) scene with Shannan Leigh as bad girl Becca, which is worth the price of the DVD alone, in my opinion. And we'll be seeing her again...

03. Friend of the Family (1995) - aka Elke 
This title, which is almost pure drama as much as it is softcore, stars Shauna O'Brien in the title rôle as Elke, but as attractive as she is, the bright shining star of this film by miles (and the reason it's so popular) is Lisa Boyle as Montana Stillman. She is a huge-breasted, naughty revelation as the 19-year-old Montana, and her three sex scenes are masterpieces, from the movements, the intensity and the acting to the way the music synchronises.
These are the scenes that I remember liking the most, the scenes that were always the easiest to download... and the scenes that got me nice and distracted during my History A2 exam. In fact, it's my favourite scene from Elke that's the one I used to test my BlackBerry's ability to run videos (and it's still on the SD card, so if I need it, it's always there for me). I was never that enchanted with New City's other releases, and there is a Friend of the Family II which I'm not really there for, but stuff like this gets me going, and it turned me into a confirmed Lisa Boyle fan.

02. Emmanuelle: Concealed Fantasy (1994) - aka There's More to Love than Sex
Gosh, how predictable am I?
Okay, seriously, this is the last one on the list and it's the best Emmanuelle film ever. Don't believe me? You may well be wrong. This one is pretty much non-stop sex. There's a little of the continuous plot here, contributing to the filmic "serial" element of the Emmanuelle in Space canon, but since this is mostly a bridge between episodes three and six (five is hardly worth a mention), they don't have much to do with the film, so they just insert longer, progressively hotter sex scenes - everywhere. On a bed, on the floor, in the bath (twice), in the shower... everywhere. And, to top it all off, Emmanuelle and Haffron jump between exotic locales, so we get some pretty scenery, even though neither of them seem to see much of it, because they're too busy making love.
This episode - and neither of the ones above - doesn't actually contain my favourite Emmanuelle sex scene featuring Emmanuelle (that's in episode 2, A World of Desire), but there's still a lot to enjoy... and, if I'm being honest - if I really want an orgasm, this is the file I'll open first.

And a couple of honourable mentions, as if this post wasn't long enough already:
- The Exotic Time Machine II (2000) for one particular sex scene with Jason Schnuit, but only one good sex scene really isn't enough to make the list
- The Night That Never Happened (1997) for being an enjoyable heist thriller rather than a straight-up softcore movie, but not being on the list probably because of that
- Emmanuelle Through Time (2011/2012) for being genuinely funny and enjoyable, even if it isn't as sexy a series as the earlier stuff
- The Sex Files: Creating the Perfect Man (2000), which almost made the list because of its hot sex, but didn't make it because I don't like the male lead

And finally...

01. The Virgins of Sherwood Forest (2000)
By far my favourite softcore film of all time and probably one of my favourite films of all time, full stop, Virgins is perhaps not everyone's top choice for a film, having a cheesy set-up (the whole thing is a dream... or is it?!), questionable acting (although Dave Roth is a joy as the self-obsessed Robin, and Micah Bradshaw makes for an attractively wide-eyed Alan) and dodgy scripting, but that just makes it funnier.
Virgins is probably a misnomer, however, seeing as how there aren't any virgins in the film... but the sex is scorching hot: not just my favourite scene ever with Shannon Leigh and David Usher, but all eight sex scenes featuring a combination of Leigh, Usher, Bradshaw, Roth, Susan Hale, Amber Newman, Jason Schnuit, and (as main character Roberta) Gabriella Hall are decent, either contributing to the plot or just there for fun... because soft porn is fun! The music is good, the setting is good, the actors all seem to be enjoying themselves... and it's all knowingly tongue-in-cheek. It may be difficult to sit through, but it's a bundle of sexy, horny fun. Love it.

And that's my top ten. Phew. Right, I'm off to eat myself into oblivion and question my life choices. Merry Christmas!

Friday, 22 December 2017

A Dirty Diagram

Ten years of sex blogging and I've never written about this before. I've certainly thought about it, but...

For a long time, in my happier days, I was in a fairly incestuous community. We only met every now and again, but for a group of young people, being members of a larger organisation with generally liberal views and emphasis of freedom of expression (and there was alcohol), every second was a godsend. I got through university living for the occasional weekends, week-long summer soirées and - fairly accurately, when it comes to the time I'm writing this, the precious one filling the pointless void between Christmas and New Year - the only time I managed to get a kiss from my crush. Although I managed it.

The idea came out more than once that a web could be drawn: a diagram of intercrossing lines providing proof that everyone in the community was linked by a fairly continuous trail of saliva, encompassing all 208 registered members (although that was a bit ambitious; even the largest events mostly totalled about 50 attendees), and that such a diagram could be easily drawn up. One of our number threw himself into the task, and was sent about 70+ such kisses from one particular girl who was specifically fond of physical contact; an impressive 38-in-one-day from another, younger and also particularly liberal girl; and my modest two.

I never saw the result, but I hear it was pretty spectacular.

That's not the only community I contributed to, however. I once spent long enough trying to explain all the various trysts in a smaller, more tight-knit community to KW - long enough, in fact, for me to go and get a pencil and paper and draw them all out, adding more and more as I thought of it. In this case, however, I was more central (in fact, I was right in the middle), having kissed a few members (in fact, having consulted my list, by first five chronological kisses were all from that group! Bizarro!), had sex with some, and fancied even more. KW took the list home, and made a graphic for his benefit - he had to use maths to work out where people should go in order to keep all the lines straight.

And then we have the sex blogging community.

This would be an impossible task, I think - not least due to the varying complexities of who the community contains, and what comprises it (what are readers, if not the blood circulation of the body?); add, also, the fact that a lot of us are, if not anonymous, pseudonymous - might you, beautiful reader, have kissed a sex blogger without knowing? - and that there are some kisses that one may wish to keep secret, not know about, or have forgotten.

Apart from the American sex bloggers - who, from what I've heard, are a little more blasé about such disclosure...

But it did get me thinking, and the thinking led to sketching. You can link me to Molly in two hops, and GOTN in five. There are more, too - those who I'd like to have kissed, and many more that I'm sure I've missed. I'm still adding names, and as I dial back through my ten-year mental Rolodex of public and private displays of affection and dirty kisses in the corner of back rooms, the lines become more and more blurred. Do you count me and Rose, even though I've only ever kissed her on the cheek? What about the Seamstress? Or Catherine? They both stopped blogging, but do they count?

And then there are more. There's plenty I've seen from the sidelines, but plenty more I don't know about. I'm not going to message everyone to ask for their past kisses - as my friend in the aforementioned community did - as, well, for the reasons I've laid out above, really. But it's a fascinating task. A very dirty one, for sure, but that's what makes it so interesting. It's the almost getting caught, as Emmanuelle says, that's fun.

And it's this sort of thing that keeps me blogging after a decade. There's always more to explore, and for the curious, more to beguile the discerning reader.

It may be a dirty diagram, that's for sure. But it's certainly a lot of fun to create. Impossible, yes - but fun, intriguing, naughty... and, with prudent admiration for all my fellow bloggers, very, very dirty.

Monday, 18 December 2017

The Penis Puzzle

Evidently, as I reach my twilight years and prepare to march gracefully into the sunset, my body is still playing catch-up in terms of "which bit we're going to fuck up next". Over the last week, it's been wreaking havoc on my arousal level, with particular emphasis on when I'm at my horniest. Predictably, it's usually when I can't actually do anything about it, but that's not a massive surprise.

I briefly woke up the other day from a pleasantly filthy dream, both in a semi-wakeful state and incredibly hard, before slipping back off into another dream which involved helter-skelters and Poppy, but wasn't really too filthy that time (although I still woke up horny). The feelings faded as I forced myself to get on with my day, but then yesterday I sat for half an hour on the Piccadilly Line, 28 minutes of which were spent bending slightly forwards in my huge winter coat, trying (and, thankfully, succeeding) to hide the huge bulge in my trousers which had come about due to reasons completely unknown. Thanks, body.

This morning, although I got up far too early and should have just gone back to bed until my alarm went off like any rational human being would (but then, I'm neither rational nor a human being...), I did manage to deal with my horniness through the simple act of masturbating it away. It didn't take me that long, either - just about 15 or so minutes of functional wanking, on and off, and I had a very pleasant, highly efficient orgasm. I flicked through a magazine, watched an episode of Glee and then realised that I was about to fall asleep in my computer chair. I went back to the bed, lay at a very odd angle, and immediately realised I couldn't move.

My body had fallen asleep, but my brain hadn't. Christ, I'm old.

Time sifted away like sand through an hourglass, and I'd had about ten minutes of lying in this rather odd state before I realised my penis was doing something very strange. I was, most definitely, hard again - almost painfully so, like I was ready to orgasm again even though I'd had a large one not half an hour prior. It wouldn't be the first time two have happened in such quick succession, but nevertheless, it was a little surprising, and since I could barely move, it wasn't like I could have done much about it, anyway.

Five more minutes and I realised that I didn't actually want an orgasm, nor did I want to use the toilet. I was just hard for being hard - like 'art for art's sake', but involving my penis rather than any creative/expressive endeavours - and it wasn't a particularly unpleasant sensation. Just a slightly baffling, quizzical one, if anything.

No, I don't understand, either.

My girlfriend came home and sat on the bed with a flump, shocking my body back into responsiveness; I sat up after a while and dragged my tired arse and perma-hard cock to the bathroom. I was, I reasoned, perfectly justified in going round one more time...

...before deciding that what I really needed was a cup of tea, a biscuit, and another little lie down.

I'll be dead before dawn.

Thursday, 14 December 2017

All about that bass

I thought she wasn't going to do this. I mean, she said something in her DeadJournal which suggested she wasn't going to do it. Mind you, I don't know if she knows I read her DeadJournal. No, wait, she does know. I left a comment there once, defending her against a troll. I guess I'll just have to ask her.

So I asked her.

She told me that she wasn't intending to participate in the competition, but that the band she was in needed a bassist, and if she wasn't going to do it, they wouldn't have been able to play at all. So she acquiesced, joined the band again, and stood in the corner of the stage, bass in hand, plucking away demurely while the rest of the band thrashed around in an apoplectic style.

This wouldn't actually be the last time I saw Obsession. She turned up at a few of these events. I wasn't even there to see her band; I was there nominally supporting another band, the one that Music Man was in. A few of us had gone to see them in lieu of doing sixth form study periods, and somehow Lightsinthesky and I got in without having booked tickets. Life is very odd sometimes.

Except I had a secret reason to be there as well. The year beforehand, I had developed a very intense and incredibly instant crush on a female guitarist playing in a band I'd never heard of from a school I didn't know. In a relatively bold move, I managed to seek her out in the general mêlée that followed the acts but preceded the judges' scores and told her that I loved her guitar playing. I earned a thanks, a hug, and her name, and a yearning for the following year, during which I was very confused and still trying to get over the girl-I-used-to-have-a-crush-on. I went to this one hoping to see her. People tended to pull at these things; Music Man - who was always the most attractive of my friends - did every single time. Lightsinthesky certainly had a go.

I didn't pull anyone. I invited Obsession to sit next to me in the audience, and she did. Despite her nervousness, she managed to shout out the name of the band from our school when the judges announced the name of the "best original song" artist (although we shouted it louder...), and joined in with the frantic head-shaking when it was given to one of the worst acts I'd ever seen. Good for them, I guess.

Everyone left feeling cheerful and relaxed and, on the way out, Obsession gave me a big squeeze before melting away into the summer evening haze. I bade farewell to everyone, walked home, and proceeded to write an angry, ranty post on my LiveJournal about how music competition judges were idiots and how my friends should have won the prize and it was theirs by right anyway because they wrote an actual song not a cacophony of noise and it's a crying shame, oh and the girl I went to see wasn't there anyway, or if she was I didn't see her, and fuck the judges this is an amazing band.

Or something like that.

Someone added me on MSN that evening to talk about the competition. She said that she'd noticed me there, gotten my name and MSN ID from Obsession, and liked my LJ post (which had been reposted on the band's forum, to general applause). We started chatting informally, on and off, mostly about music.

Turns out that she'd been at the competition one year beforehand too, and she had a very intense and incredibly instant crush on me. But, of course, she never said anything, so I didn't find out until years later. Obsession didn't tell me anything either.

Life is very odd sometimes.

Monday, 11 December 2017

Leonid Gayev

An occasional moment of clarity from an always-muddied, constantly distracted mind.

It's something that blindsides me when I am least expecting it: something with seemingly no trigger and very little substance, and (often) something with no result, because even if I know the path (and I don't), I ultimately lack the drive.

But it comes down, today at least, to this: I am lonely.

I am. I do very little these days except blog, work, wait, and think. I don't sleep much because I have insomnia, but when I do, it' a bizarre experience. Last night I had a dream in which I made a new (female) friend - someone who doesn't exist, as opposed to a real person in that rôle - with whom I spent a lot of time. I pretended to her that I didn't have a girlfriend, although I've no idea why, and at the end, both of them left, leaving me alone once again.

In real life, I have a girlfriend who spends a lot of time at work - more time than I do - and, when she is here, she spends a lot of time resting, or engaged in other activities: this is perfectly understandable, she needs her rest to recharge her energy for the physically demanding job she does. I, on the other hand, do a job which nominally takes up very few hours, but actually takes up a lot more (unpaid) time. I am in a constantly client-facing position, which suits me due to my nature, but ultimately this is a personal connection which is transient, and merely professional. Very few clients actually become friends. I don't expect them to.

And then there are my friends. Seeing them used to be a weekly experience, or maybe more so. Now, it's a very rare one, and one that I can't afford to do (seriously - I can't even make a bus journey because my card doesn't let me, and my boss is refusing to pay anyone until the unachievable gets achieved. That's a Catch-22 just before Christmas.); when I am reminded of my friends, it is usually in one of a few ways: a group that no longer exists, a group in which everyone is achieving more than me; a group which consists of my closest friends but I appear to be out of their grasp for reasons unknown; and a group which I've been part of for a very long time but in which I now feel as if I am persona non grata.

Some groups feel different now. One of them has fractured into little shards, one has faded into obscurity, and one has become much less of a "community" and is more of an autocracy with a figurehead and a "team" whose job is it to approve members' contributions.

If there's one group of people I spend most of my time with recently, it's my family, who are by and large pretty great people, but they can be tiresome, and their attitude towards each other often makes me feel like an outsider (even though, being right in the middle in terms of both age and cliques, I should be the lynchpin that holds us together).

And I get it. Everyone feels like this now and again. I know. And yes, it seems ridiculous, writing this post when there is a snoozing girlfriend in my bed and bustling housemates within earshot, a 'phone full of contacts and access to social networking on which hundreds of thousands of people buzz. It even seems somewhat pathetic, feeling so isolated like this and not going out and doing something, but what? With what money? And with who? The people whose jobs keep them busy, the people whose children keep them busy, the people who make me feel unworthy of their time, the people of whom I am insanely jealous, or the people who may not like me any more but don't say so directly?

But whatever it is, it makes me second-guess myself. I don't want to play video games because I reach hard bits, get stuck and end up hitting myself very hard when it gets too much. I don't want to read books because my eyes get tired, my brain gets overloaded, and the book I'm reading at the moment makes me yearn for the unobtainable. I don't want to write because I fear the reactions I never used to fear. I don't want to eat, or drink, or go to the gym because all of those exacerbate my poor self-image. I don't want to sleep in case my brain invents another temporary friend for me to be distraught about.

I am lonely. I am poor, I am isolated, I am put-upon, I am overworked, I am tired, and I am lonely.

And it hurts so much that sometimes I want to throw my head back and SCREAM.

I try to hold it together; I really do. I need to be solid, dependable, reliable, flexible and tolerant. I don't want to bend so much that I feel I will crack at any point. I don't want to go through day after day fighting the urge to cry, maintaining a brave smile while my colleague continuously bitches at me because she doesn't like her job, fending off accusations from all angles on all subjects, and feeling nervous and twitchy whenever asked what I'm doing in case this is the catalyst for something else.

I don't know what would help. I don't know who to ask, or where to go, or even how to say I'm feeling what I'm feeling. I am surrounded by people and yet I feel lonelier than I ever remember feeling.

Was I intending to publish this? I'm not even sure if I was. I was scared to go into the kitchen to make tea to drink because my housemate was there and I didn't want to disturb him. I sat down to write, and I wrote this. I don't know if I was ever going to hit the publish button.

But I will. I don't have a void to scream into, but this will do. I'm hitting the publish button. Here I go.

Sunday, 10 December 2017

Friday, 8 December 2017

Knowledge

My boss sends e-mails to me almost every day. I rarely see her any more; my timetable has changed, along with my rôle, and I'm perfectly okay with that, as she makes me a little nervous. My other colleagues, and clients if feedback from them is genuine, have no problems with anything I do; the job does, however, involve a large amount of paperwork, much of which can't be done without clients present. If they don't turn up, I can't do the paperwork.

I became abundantly aware of this during a 15-minute window yesterday wherein I gave a form to a client to fill out.

"Fill that out, please," I said. "I know it's a headache, but it needs to be done. I'm so sorry."

Which is how I act at work. If I apologise constantly, nobody else needs to do so.

I turned back to my task at hand and eventually forgot all about that client and the fact that she was filling out a form that needs to be submitted or I don't get paid for November. Fortunately, half an hour later she was back with a question.

"What does this word mean...?" she asked, pointing to the word "heterosexual" under the "sexual orientation" section of the form.
"Uh..." I started. "That's a bit of a loaded question. So, if you're attracted to the opposite sex, which in your case would be men...? I mean, maybe? Do you identify as female? I mean, I don't want to assume..."

A blank stare.

"Okay, let's start again. Do you know the term straight?"
"Why not ask her if she's gay?" suggested another client, who was both listening intently and threateningly close.
"Well, that suggests it's a binary system," I replied. "I mean, she... they... could be anything. Here we have bisexual as an option. There's also an 'other', which isn't really enough, but maybe if they are queer, or questioning, or undefined, or pansexual, or heteroflexible, or intersex... although maybe that's a gender, some of the terms are unclear..."


More blank stares.

"Tick that box," I decided upon, pointing to the "I do not wish to say" option, as I could sense both time slipping away and myself getting higher and higher onto my horse.

She ticked it, and then marked herself as "female" under the "gender" section. I breathed a heavy sigh of relief, and started to return to what I was doing in the first place.

I'm absolutely sure that my boss, were she present, would not approve of any brief discussion of sexualities and sexual identification, especially as I'm fairly sure she's a homophobe (although she has hired openly gay people, so maybe not that discriminating a homophobe. Still, it's no excuse.); I, however, feel it's important. I've held whole sessions with clients while discussing sexuality in quite a lot of detail. People sometimes ask if I've ever met a bisexual person - which is an odd question, since not only have I met many people of any and all genders, I'm in a relationship with a queer bisexual girl (which also gets the blank stares).

"Why is it so important?" asked a third client, who had joined the ever-increasing gaggle of those eager to listen.
"Because it is," I said impatiently. "It's something that affects us all. Love is love," I added, "and love wins. Just look at what's happened in Australia."

Another blank stare.

"Okay," I said, "I could talk about this for hours, but I haven't got hours, so if we could all move along, let's all finish what we need to do and then go home."

There was a very uncomfortable silence, during which a sudden and very vivid memory of writing down all the non-binary pronouns for a curious client who was unaware that there were any presented itself. Copy and file under my previous boss being an outspoken homophobe who referred to gay people getting married as "bastards", and my current boss believing sexuality should not be discussed in mixed company. Neither of whom were present. And I was suddenly in a room with several silent people all looking at me.

I gave my halo a spin and managed a broad smile.

"Any questions?" I asked.

Tuesday, 5 December 2017

I[ ]B

I have been hit by a wave of nostalgia.

It is a wave I will admit to cresting with relatively alarming frequency. Simple though life seems sometimes, it is also true that I am a jigsaw puzzle made up of many different pieces that don't quite fit. Over a decade ago, on a different blog and in a quite different place, I used the analogy of a wall of bricks to describe a shelter. Some of those bricks are still in place. Those that aren't still sit in the foundations. I never truly forget things.

For whatever reason - lack of sleep last night causing me to overthink things, sudden downtime following insane weeks at work resulting in meditative/reflective lethargy, or just circumstance - today has managed to pique my interest in things that may be a part of me, but in some ways, I barely remember.

I spent all morning transferring music to my iPod, music that I love but also reminds me partially of Rebecca and partially of a friend who died while I was at university. (By extension, more music that reminds me of university, and buying CDs at random just because I could.) While doing so, just before disconnecting my iPod, I found and added 47's first demo EP, which reminds me vividly of his old house in Kent, his room in which I slept, and in which he handed me said EP with a reminder to look out for the album when it came out. And the resulting band I ended up playing in. My guitar, which used to be his, stands in the corner. Yesterday I thought vaguely of digging out my bass.

The Seamstress was attracted to boys who played bass and those with beards. I am both now, but with little real consequence.

More came. Thinking about my grandparents on Twitter coincided with accidentally clicking open a forum on which I used to rôleplay. A dead forum, maybe, but one in which I used to spend hours spinning intricate tales without knowing where I was going with them. I tapped out a post there, signifying an ending of sorts, with a strange mix of pride and melancholy. Earlier today, in fact, I spiralled back through my past, looking for a specific post on a specific LiveJournal (which I found). Each of those words, heavy with meaning, shining through the years with the glow that reflects the fact that somebody sat down to write them...

None of this, though, really compares with porn.

Last night, lying awake, I was reminded of some porn which I could have sworn I have, but remained completely unaware of exactly where to find it. Awaiting a meeting that didn't happen at 8:30am, I sat at my computer sifting through my old, scrappy Disks of Wonder, scanning the filenames at speed. Again and again, names leapt out at me; things that inspired me, alarmed me, aroused me. I found the porn I was looking for, and transferred it to my external HD (on which I keep my porn), thus relieving the struggling CD-R from its labour that has lasted a decade and more... but it wasn't the only file I transferred, grabbing at random scenes I know by name, things I may want on hand even though it wasn't the right time this morning.

All pieces of the puzzle.

When I dream, the dreams all take place in the house where I grew up. I haven't been there for years, and yet I can still see it so vividly - feel it, even - all around me when I close my eyes and concentrate. This is the same computer. It's the same brand of tea I sip. It's the same music; the same words; the same porn. In a lot of ways, it's the same ILB.

Some bits of my past I miss. Some bits I don't. I suppose I am still learning. Sometimes that is difficult. But I am, whenever nostalgic, pleased that I made it through.

I am still. I am here. ILB. Hi. Hello. It's me.

Saturday, 2 December 2017

Top 100 Sex Bloggers 2017

It appears to be "that time of the year" again, whatever that means, and it's certainly time to once again trawl through the Top 100 Sex Bloggers list, adopted by Molly a few years back and still going strong.

Pleasing as it is to see myself back on the list (and in the top 20, no less - I was in the upper echelons last year and was worried I'd place at all, as I always am), props also go to Amy for getting a nod for best newcomer (newcomer? really?), to Cheeky Minx whose blog I've long adored and just missed out on a top 10 place, to Chaturbate for sponsorship (and having one of the most addictive sites on the internet; no, I am not ashamed), and to everyone on the following list, which I will now lazily copy and paste for those of you who haven't already navigated to a better blog in order to read.

1 Kayla Lords @kaylalords
2 Mrs Fever N/A
3 Girly Juice @girly_juice
4 Pain as pleasure @bibulousone
5 Rebel's Notes @rebelsnotes
6 Not So Sex in the City @notsosexintheci
7 Pandora Blake @pandorablake
8 Scandarella @ella_scandal
9 The Beautiful Kind @TBK365
10 Red Hot Suz @redhotsuz
11 Love Hate Sex Cake @LoveHateSexCake
12 Tabitha Rayne @tabithaerotica
13 Little Switch Bitch @_littlesbitch
14 Bex Talk Sex @bextalkssex
15 Cara Thereon @thereon_cara
16 Denying Thumper @thumperMN
17 Domina Jen @DominaJen
18 Cara Sutra @thecarasutra
19 Hey Epiphora @epiphora
20 Innocent Loverboy @innocentlb
21 Emmeline Peaches Reviews @EmmelinePeaches
22 Poly . Land @polydotland
23 The Big Gay Review @thebiggayreview
24 Sexual Destinites @victoriavista1
25 The Other Livvy @theotherlivvy
26 Candy Snatch @CandysReviews
27 Miss Scarlet Writes @MissScarletUK
28 Grind N Throb N/A
29 Modesty Ablaze @ablazingmodesty
30 Ninja Sexology @ninjasexology
31 By Aurora Glory @AuroraGloryBlog
32 Miss Eve E. @MissEveBlogs
33 Holden and Camille @holden_cammie
34 Teachers Have Sex @teachershavesex
35 My Trickle Trunk @mytickletrunk
36 Wriggly Kitty @wriggly_kitty
37 Princess Previews @PrincessPreview
38 Ann St Vincent @AnnStVincent
39 Happy Come Lucky @ht_honey
40 Exposing 40 @exposing40
41 Cleareyed Girl @_Masterseye
42 Random Red Rose @randomredrose
43 Joanne's Sex Machine and Sex Toy Reviews @joannesreviews
44 Kitten Boheme @kittenboheme
45 Victoria Blisse @victoriablisse
46 Jerusalem Mortimer: Between the Lines @JaimeMortimer
47 Rabbit in Chains @Rabbit_InChains
48 Poly Love & Sex @CPoly69
49 Floss Does Life @_floss_84
50 Sex is My New Hobby @SexIsMyNewHobby
51 Sex Matters @more_matters
52 The Redhead Bedhead @JoEllenNotte
53 Horny Geek Girl @hornygeekgirl
54 A Shared Wife @ASharedWife
55 Mary Q Confesses @maryqconfesses.com
56 Marvelous Darling @marvydarling
57 La Taverne Du Captain @captain_review
58 A to sub Bee @sub_bee
59 subs missives @Sum1Sub
60 Suggestive @suggestive
61 Cooler Than A Glass Dildo @NatandTom_
62 Not Just Bitchy N/A
63 Oh Gush @_ohgush_
64 Krystal Minx @BisexualMinx
65 Mx Nillin @mxnillin
66 Minxy & Caged @minxyandcaged
67 The Ins and Outs of Erika Lynae @erika_lynae
68 Collared Mom @CollaredMom
69 You Won't Tame this Sassy Cat @sassycat38
70 Sex, Death Rock'n'roll @violetfenn
71 Le Journal @Little_xsecret
72 Mischa Eliot @mischa_eliot
73 Exhibit A @EA_unadorned
74 The Casquetero Files N/A
75 Backwoods Bedroom @bkwoodsbedroom
76 Maria Open's Up @MSM1647
77 Sexologist Vixenne @DrVixenne
78 Miss Ruby Reviews @MissRubyReviews
79 Echo Explores @EchoExplores
80 Ina Morata @InaMorataWriter
81 Miss Jezebella @Miss_Jezebella
82 Cammies on the Floor @cammiesonfloor
83 Fiesty Fox Films @feistyfoxfilms
84 Dr. J @DoctorJAuthor
85 Emmanuelle de Maupassant @EmmanuelledeM
86 Poly Role Models N/A
87 Malflic @malflic
88 China Doll 320 @ChinaDoll320
89 F Dot Leonora @fdotleonora
90 Livvy Libertine @Livvy_Libertine
91 Life of Elliot @ElliottHenry5
92 My Sex Life with Lola N/A
93 Asrai Devin @asrai
94 stretchingcandi N/A
95 SweeteN Dirty @Sweeten_Dirty
96 Male Chastity Journal N/A
97 Chronic Sex @chronicsexchat
98 Dildo or DilDont N/A
99 Nicci Haydon @niccihaydon

As always, the bottom spot is more or less an open mike. What with so many blogs out there, and more coming wave after wave, there's an opportunity to promote your own blog (and congratulate the 99 above), which you are free to do on Molly's post. As it's a Saturday, today is #SoSS - Share Our Shit Saturday - so this is nothing if not the perfectly timed opportunity to Share Our Shit.

Friday, 1 December 2017

Smooch!

The other day, during one of those rare snatches of time when I have nothing to do (which seem to be rarer and rarer these days), I made a list of all the people I've kissed. I had to cheat a bit to remember everyone's surname, but I got them eventually. Next to eight of the twelve people who made up the list, I put a little star in black for the ones with whom I went on to have sex, and highlighted in pink the four who were actual relationships (I'm not counting Soldiergirl, or snowdrop, as neither of those really happened for very long).

This is the first time I've ever done this. It's usually the sort of thing people do at school, or in their first year at university, where they may put it next to a shag chart.* My sister has one such list, which she's been keeping since she was 13. It takes up several pages of A5 with two columns on each page. Mine is much easier to manage, and out of all my kisses, only one of them was particularly drunk. Hooray!

[*NB. I have never seen such a chart. At my alma mater, an article came out in our university magazine advising us not to have a shag chart on the wall. Most of us cut out the article and stuck it on our walls.]

For all my life, I've been enamoured with the idea of a full-on kiss being something special and unobtainable, barring exceptional circumstances. I am reliably informed, however, that I am relatively rare in thinking that. I've seen people taking part in 'pulling' games, where you have to snog as many people as possible in as little time as possible, so as to win points (albeit nothing else). I've seen people get drunk and work their way around the room at parties. I've even seen my friend with the huge penis locked in an embrace with a number of different girls (although at several points over several years; I just remember it more vividly than others, for whatever reason).

At school, there were more. Music Man, Lightsinthesky, my token black friend, Lightbulb and the guy who looked like Dewey from Scream all managed to be quite prolific at it. My friends who were girls were all relatively coquettish, but shy when asked, but they also kept lists - especially in the sixth form, when they started keeping a book which everyone added to, including a list of the hottest boys in our year (I was number 11).

And yet I still feel that way. During the three-and-a-half-year gap between Louise and Alicia, there was nobody. I went though university seeing couples wrestling lips in clubs but never managed to get anything more than a kiss on the cheek, or a hug as thanks for being understanding while I listened to another female friend's relationship problems. Each peck on the hand, or swift hug, or even bright smile in my direction ignited a spark somewhere, but nothing ever led to a kiss. In the end, that was all I really wanted.

I'm in a relationship now that's lasted, as it turns out, over five years. It still feels like a new one in some ways. I get a kiss every day now, but it's not always a long one. Just a swift peck on the lips before whichever one of us goes to work first departs, maybe. Except for last week, where - completely by surprise - she pressed her lips to mine and went in for a long, passionate, deep and relatively messy snog.

A nice reminder of what my desires all involve.

Sunday, 26 November 2017

Soft Porn Sunday: Erika Jordan & Darcie Dolce

One of the things I like the most about soft porn is that, due to the nature of the beast, there are always sections of dialogue, basically filling up space between all the sex scenes. As a subgenre, erotic sci-fi generally does this in an idiosyncratically ridiculous way: technobabble that doesn't actually mean anything; alien species who look like, act like and speak the same language as humans from Earth; CGI sequences which are more reminiscent of ReBoot than Star Wars; everybody female in the intergalactic cosmos is beautiful, busty and bisexual. But, oddly enough, they're not having nearly enough sex.

Except in this film. Which is mostly sex. By which I mean almost entirely. It's the dialogue that makes it, though, if you can hear it over all the boobs.

Appearance: Escape from Pleasure Planet (2016)
Characters: Aria & Pleasure Android

The premise behind the plot for this thing is helpfully explained fairly near the beginning. Beautiful, busty, bisexual Princess Dianna (yes), played by Blair Williams, is celebrating her royal birthday by visiting an interstellar brothel - presumably the titular "Pleasure Planet" - in order to enjoy herself with one of the famous beautiful, busty, bisexual 'pleasure androids' (Darcie Dolce), which she duly does, providing the viewers with a watery, lusty lesbian sex scene and adding a whole new dimension to the term "royally fucked".

What she doesn't know - incidentally we don't know this either - is that Cassia (Veronica Vain, who is beautiful, busty, bisexual and doesn't appear to own a bra), who operates the planet, is secretly working for intergalactic tyrant Aria (Erika Jordan). Aria turns up and attacks the planet; the princess and her bodyguard escape, and Cassia is dispatched to find and retrieve her, as with her capture, Aria can take over the universe. I can't say I didn't find myself wanting her to succeed.

At this point the film's budget presumably ran out, because the rest of the action takes place on Earth.

Cue the dialogue.

Told you she didn't own a bra.
"Cassia to Master Aria, come in. I've located the princess on the third planet from the star of Braxis."
[Pause.]
"Come in. Aria? Hello?"
[Pause.]
"What is she doing?"

Oh.
There's a lesson in this somewhere. Something about not leaving a beautiful, busty and bisexual intergalactic warlord on a planet completely vacant of inhabitants save for a sentient robot whose only skills involve sex. I can't quite put my finger on it.

There's plenty to say about the ensuing five minutes of incredibly intense lesbian action. They both start out naked, so there's no time spent disrobing. We are thrown directly into the sex, which manages to incorporate kissing, cunnilingus, nipple-sucking and mutual masturbation all within the first thirty seconds! Blimey, movie - you're spoiling us!

For all that they had available (and the end credits suggest this entire film was made in one day, which is very impressive if true), they manage to keep this scene not just entertaining, but well-shot as well as keeping it stimulating. There are technical limits to what you can show with lesbian soft porn, and yet by employing varying camera angles, numerous bits of the set (there's a large pool there, but a lot of the sex happens out of it), and switching up some of the action every now and again, this is incredibly well-thought out.

There's a lot to be said for the actors, too. Darcie Dolce does her thing as the pleasure android,
I'd be her loyal subject.
although we've already seen her at it with the princess. She does the writhing and moaning well, though, and both gives and receives with a pleasing amount of gusto. Erika Jordan, however, is something else. She is absolutely stunning - gorgeous red hair, a body that's well-proportioned without being too thin (which I don't like), captivating eyes and, yes, great boobs. There's also something to be said for Aria being a would-be universe-conquering tyrant who's clearly turned off her communicator to have sex for a while. It's naughty. It's fun. It's not meant to happen, yet it is happening, and I love that.


Something else that I've noticed (and it's probably only me) is that there's an unexpected power dynamic going on throughout. As Aria is a commander and the pleasure android is... well... a pleasure android, you'd expect Aria to be on the receiving end all the time (and, in fact, that's how the scene starts). But as it develops, she ends up giving just as much as she's getting - taking control herself and touching or licking her android to orgasm, being a giver without becoming too subservient. The android, of course, spends plenty of time between Aria's legs to bring her off, but there's no clear leader between the two of them, and they both seem like they are genuinely enjoying themselves.

Forgive me, Aria, for I have sinned.
However, none of this wonderful lesbian cornucopia would be half as arousing were it not for the jump cut directly after the dialogue above. There's about half a second of exasperation from an oblivious Cassia before we are thrown immediately into the midst of sex, complete with nudity, licking, set and music (the music is an odd '80s-style synthy pop loop; it's odd, but it really fits the scene). It's a truck driver's gear change of a cut, but the sudden incongruity (and the fact that you've worked out exactly what's about to happen within that half-second) and the fact that the hot and heavy action slaps you right in the face is incredibly difficult to ignore.

So much so, in fact, that when reviewing this, I was hard from the moment the dialogue started.

The rest of the sex in this film - and there's plenty of it - is pretty routine, though shot in the same
That's some serious hair action.
style. It's arousing enough, but there's just something about this one that makes it special. Maybe it's the way its set up, the way it starts, the actors themselves, the way they've played it, or just Erika Jordan herself. But whatever it is, these six minutes (seriously, it's that long) are worth the rest of the film. just by themselves. Of course, they don't make any sense without the rest of the film, but...


It works for me, in any case. It really, really, really works for me. All hail Aria, our new, naked, lustful intergalactic overlord.