Dating Sites

As a married man, I’m limited in the online dating sites I can use: If I want to go looking for women who want to fuck, pretty much my only option is Ashley Madison.

As an aside, you might have assumed that a married man wouldn’t need a dating site; that dating is no longer necessary once one is married. After all, isn’t that the point of dating? To find someone to marry? If you’re thinking that you’re probably female, because men know that there’s another reason – perhaps the prime reason – for dating, which is to fuck. And married men like to fuck too, and don’t always need their fuck partner to be their spouse.

Eyes. No, Not Womens’ Eyes, Mine This Time

I’ve written about eyes before, but that was about the eyes of girls I’m dating (and/or cybering). Now it’s time to write about my own.

On “Fucking” vs. “Making Love”

How does one define “fucking,” and how does one define “making love”? Obviously both are categories of sexual activity, and the definitions are more qualitative than quantitative. When two (or more*) people are having sex they might be “making love” or they might be “fucking” or maybe they’re doing neither.

* Does it get tiresome that every time – and I’m pretty sure it’s every time – I talk about people having sex I always say “two (or more)”? Is that qualifier really necessary – are there that many people having group sex that I need to worry about leaving them out?

The Sole of a Foot, Curved Out of a Shoe

I’ve written before that I’m not into foot fetish porn – and that’s not changing – and nor am I into feet in person. I have no interest in cumming on your feet, or kissing your feet, or sucking your toes, or whatever foot fetishists do when they come in contact with feet.

Why I Would Have Sex With a Zombie

Last week I wrote about sex with zombies. No, seriously, it’s true! I really did! This blog is fucked up, yo.

Sex With Zombies?

Here’s what I don’t get about sex with zombies:

Actually, before I get into that, allow me to spend a moment reveling in the fact that I have created a blog, the subject matter of which allows me to create a post that starts with the sentence, “Here’s what I don’t get about sex with zombies.” And it’s not even that far off topic. (It involves sex, after all.)

News Coverage of Spring Break in America

I don’t know if Spring Break is something that’s “celebrated” all over the world, but they make a big deal out of it here in North America. It’s a week in the Spring that colleges and universities around the country take off so that the students can prepare for exams. By which I mean: drive to Florida, strip down to bikinis, get shitfaced, and have lots of sex. Of course, if you look for pictures of Spring Break you’ll mostly see white kids, for reasons I’ve discussed before.

What Does a “Proper” D/s Relationship Look Like?

Let’s start this post off with a long, rambling preamble, shall we?

I have a scratchpad of ideas for posts I want to write. Sometimes an idea is just a couple of words or a link to an article that I want to write about, and sometimes it’s a series of points and sub-points so complete that all I have to do is translate those thoughts into proper English and I’m done. One of the ideas I had sitting there for quite a while simply said “D/s and the whole ‘daddy’ thing; it’s not incest – yes it is!”

D/s and the Whole “Daddy” Thing

I’ve written before that I’m not into incest – and I stand by that! (I know: It’s a brave stance. If there were awards for porn blogging, I’m sure I’d be nominated regularly.) I also wrote that I go as far as not liking it when girls want to call me “daddy” in the bedroom.

Eyes

I think I’ve mentioned before the thrill I get when a lover (whether real or cyber) sends me erotic photos of herself. (Or videos, of course.) Not so much because of the photos themselves, I can find a whole lot of sexy women with perfect bodies on Smutty without even breaking a sweat (and I’ve written before how much porn lovers like – need – variety), but because of the idea of the fact that this woman is taking a chance on sending this photo, just so that she can turn me on.

Reasons Porn Is Better Than Sex: No Emotional Roller Coaster

Alternate title: Dating Sites Suck, Part 3

When I say that porn is better than sex, I’m being somewhat tongue in cheek. (If you’d like to put your tongue in my cheek please leave a comment. Also, please be female. And hot.) Obviously I prefer fucking over watching people fuck, although I have to admit that watching people fuck is a helluva lot more convenient.

I’ve written about dating sites before (and I’ll probably do so again). They have their downsides, but they also definitely have a purpose: they allow you to meet and get to know people you’d like to fuck. (Some, like eHarmony, might put the focus more on finding a “life partner” or getting married, but those aren’t the kinds of dating sites I use.)

Self Control

(Or lack thereof.)

I’m an unrepentant multitasker. I’m often working on one or more work-related things at the same time that I’m chatting with people over instant messaging and maybe even writing blog posts for a blog about porn*, and I’m usually pretty good at prioritizing the various things I’m doing. (* Note: I may sometimes work on my porn-related blog posts at work, but obviously there are limits to what I’ll do at work. I don’t go browsing Smutty or attaching pictures to blog posts or anything – I don’t even view my own blog from the network at work. I just write the content for my posts, and then when I’m at home I’ll put them in Blogger and start pulling in pictures.) I have a pretty good poker face, so people around me will rarely be able to tell the difference between when I’m working and when I’m, you know, workin it.

Submission

I put that cartoon with this post because it reminded me of a topic that I’d wanted to write about for a while. Except it’s not really porn-related, which means this post might turn into a rant. We’ll see what happens as I type.

A Warm Embrace in Winter

6PM. Pitch black but for the orange glow seeping out from streetlights and flashes from passing traffic. He trudges through the snow, miserable despite his best efforts.

The storefronts radiate warmth, light, and consumerism, but the displays serve only to emphasize how cold and miserable he is. 

Fucking winter.

Juicy

I admit the fact that I’m a pervert. In fact I admit it on a regular basis, here on the blog, in writing. So there are times, in my regular, day-to-day life, when somebody says something perfectly innocent and I take it in a dirty way and inwardly smirk. Sometimes it’s just plain childish, and sometimes I’m surprised by my own perversion when I think everyone will be smiling but nobody gets the joke other than me.

The Number 23

This post is not related to porn so if you’re a purist and only come to this blog for my musings on pornography you can skip it. But one of the side effects of porn is that it tends to whet your appetite for the real thing. That is: you can only consume so much porn before you want to go and do some actual fucking. Have your own sex, instead of watching others do it for you.