Having a break from orgasms - whether by choice or not - can have interesting effects on a man, at least in this one's experience. The effects manifest themselves both physically and mentally.
The longest I've been without orgasm since puberty was almost six weeks. I was living in a very remote part of the Ecuadorian cloud forest, with no electricity, many miles from the nearest road but close enough to the Colombian border for us to be cautious with radio transmissions for fear of attracting banditos.
Living in close proximity with two other men we decided to live a life of total celibacy. This was of great amusement and fascination to the American lady who was in the bunk room next to ours. She didn't participate in any way, although I now realise that this event and her curiosity would make for an excellent short piece of erotica.
So, what happens after five weeks of denial? Wondrously erotic dreams fuelling sub-conscious erections that are so sensitive, so full to bursting that my body gave itself the release that my hand wouldn't allow. Dealing with a sticky mess by candlelight at 3am in a room with sleeping men isn't much fun.
In less extreme circumstances laying off the self-pleasure for a while can be both enjoyable and productive. After a few days of denial I have to rein in my temptation to swipe right on every Tinder or OK Cupid profile I come across (not upon) in the hope of a quick but ultimately regretful fuck.
Horniness is a real issue and concerted efforts have to be made to not flirt with that attractive colleague, glance at fellow swimmers in the pool or waltz down Camden high street in a jockstrap. The rewards of this abstinence (wankstinence?) are twofold:
1. My creative erotic writing productivity ratchets up a few notches and inspiration floods into my depraved and deprived mind.
2. When the glorious moment arrives, in which I take penis in hand (or someone else's hand/orifice), the climax can be spectacular.
How spectacular? The sensitivity leading up to the Big Bang is increased and the love of my body or the lust for my partner intensifies - my hands want to be absolutely everywhere on them. I can feel the cum on its speedy journey from deeper within my cock, can almost hear it as it jets through the tip (to me it would sound like the squishy spurty noise of a hose being untangled from its kinks).
The quantify is...impressive. Dizzying blackout threatens to overwhelm me as the orgasm lasts longer than normal, which admittedly isn't all that long for a man.
So yes, resisting the urge for le wank quotidien is worth it. But not for five weeks.
Monday, 26 March 2018
The Virgin flight to Bangkok scudded across the sky, airport codes flashing on the pilots screen as they passed beneath. PIS, SEX, PEE, COK, they all reminded Leanne of the watersports she enjoyed with her ex-husband. He loved that rowboat.
Her memories of his big oar sticking out from his rollocks were interrupted by the chief air steward, Finn, making a passenger announcement in his dreamy masculine tone. Leanne glanced at the uneaten food by her side. Limp salad, dry potatoes, semi-moist treat stick. A typical airline meal.
The second crew bustled into the cockpit to relieve Leanne and her co-pilot from duty. She retired to her rest compartment. Standing there waiting for her was the dashing Finn.
"Finn, have you finished for the night?"
"No, Leanne. I've only just begun."
He flung himself towards her at Mach phwoar, quickly offloading his clothes. She took control of his joystick as he lay on the bed, then prepared to lower flaps. Perfect landing. Her nipples pinged outwards as if they were signposts pointing towards her desire. "MAN. MAN." they seemed to say.
His baggage safely stowed, she began to experience severe turbulence. In her vagina. Finn pawed at her bulbous breasts, before burying his bounty betwixt her bucking buttocks.
"Mmm, I love seating you in my rear cabin," she radioed to his ear traffic control.
"Your...nnnghgh...your buckle is tight', he announced over his tannoy.
The slapping of body against body sounded as though a pizza chef was repeatedly slamming his dough on the counter. There was a need for urgency; it wouldn't be long until someone would pass by the compartment.
Leanne stood and slipped a condom over Finn's veiny tower of fleshy rock-hard protruding fully moist heat stick. She demonstrated how to blow his whistle, then, just as the airbridge kisses the door of an aircraft, so her mouth met his, disgorging her hot and hurried passenger into Finn's oral tunnel.
She pulled him to his feet then replaced him by kneeling on the bed, her two holes presented like a screaming cyclops. This time, instead of aiming for the puckered eye, he opted to book a return ticket into her womanly landing strip.
"Ohhh yes, push that gold club member deep inside," gabbled Leanne.
"Must. Remain. In. An. Upright. Position." came his thrusting replies.
"Yes! Fuck me! Fuck me like Brexit is fucking up the overseas travel market by putting open skies agreements at risk, devaluing Sterling and blocking freedom of movement!"
They simultaneously checked in for destination orgasm. Leanne shaking like a shit-scared first-time flier, Finn jettisoning his fuel onto her slippery escape chute. He withdrew from her luggage rack - carefully in case contents spilled out - then made an emergency exit before his penis began its descent.
Leanne let her breathing return to normal before checking her fuselage. She loved it when Finn gave her a layover, but he always left such a vast quantity of his steaming, viscous, passion pudding after final approach.
This excruciating piece of shit was brought to you in association with The Other Livvy's most excellent Euph Off competition. Click here to see who else is plundering the quivering love tunnels of godawful erotica.
Thursday, 22 March 2018
My job involves working with Big Data (Big Data = identifying patterns or trends in massive data sets). Beneath my fingertips I have the power to send highly personalised emails to 38 million people. From my perspective, in my industry, Big Data is good. It gives the customer what they want and/or makes it easier for them to find what they're looking for. And, so far, it isn't too creepy.
The vast majority of adults have sex, 7 in 10 women watch porn. In fact, so many people watch porn that porn channels are able to produce sophisticated data sets (PornHub being one such example). The recent fake missile crisis in Hawai'i, which showed that porn use dropped in the islands during the crisis and spiked afterwards, demonstrates the real-time nature of adult-related Big Data.
So why is talking about sex still so taboo? Why is the use of porn still frowned upon? If Big Data is the mirror to our secret habits, why are we as a society in such denial about it reflecting how kinky our tastes are?
Being open about our porn habits is subversive. But we shouldn't let that stop us. After all, societies don't progress without subversion.
Sex rarely comes up in conversation amongst (my) friends. If, or when, it does, I don't have to be specific about my kinks. I can, for example, feasibly raise the fact that I consume ethical porn in a discussion about feminism.
When the opportunity next arises, I shall try to do just that. One sex blogger subverting society for the better, one conversation at a time, backed up by the inarguable accuracy of Big Data.
Tuesday, 20 March 2018
They grow more sophisticated by the day. But what is it that we want from these robots? Do we want them to precisely replicate the experience of being with another human, or do we want them to be entirely without flaws?
A robot which can stay erect and with a penis that can vibrate must be tempting for some, but both of these are achievable thanks to modern medicine and clever sex toys. A robot which can be coaxed to full erection, however, is something I know that many would enjoy.
People who have real penises tend to be somewhat unsophisticated in their desire for a sex robot. As long as it has three holes then it ticks most boxes. But would they be more fun if certain actions caused the robot to get wet and external genitalia to swell?
These signs of male and female arousal can't be too difficult to replicate. What does seem challenging is making the robot look and feel lifelike. Big steps have been made in this regard which makes me wonder if consumers will demand a hybrid of realistic-looking robots, that feel like a human but have certain enhancements.
Of course, there are certain enhancements which may seem creepy to some but sexy to others. A plug-in personality of your favourite celeb, perhaps, or hooking the robot up to the web so that you can have sex with a real cam girl or guy who happens to be thousands of miles away.
So what would I want from a sex robot? Something as realistic as possible, which can transform into different body shapes, eye colours and hair colours. Something which can grow and retract hair, is fully dexterous and feels like a human inside and out. Self-lubricating and self-cleansing. Something which can link up to the actions of a real partner - located elsewhere - and relays my touch to them via a twin robot of myself. Like my actual persona, I'm happy for my twin robot to be used for pleasuring women.
Most importantly, I'd want a robot which had a degree of independent thought and had the capacity to set limits and say 'no'. Oh, and a literal switch between Dom and sub.
Sunday, 11 March 2018
Another bland business hotel, full of photo opportunities, strutting around naked opportunities and many, many wanking opportunities. Alas, this will likely be my last such opportunity for a very long time.
See who else is having a sinful Sunday:
Sunday, 4 March 2018
This story was inspired by a recent work trip to Seattle. I had a couple of days to myself before I had to be in the office and so I hired a bike and headed for the hills. It was cold, wet and exhausting...
There was only so far my bike could take me, the track turning from gravel to snow a few hours into the journey. Time to return. I coasted downhill, enjoying the gains of the constant upwards slope made on the way out.
Off to my side the world started moving towards me. Two choices; stay here but risk getting stuck on the wrong side of the land slide, or pedal hard and hope to avoid being buried. I hurtled on and nearly made it.
A rock slammed into the rear wheel and I slammed into the ground. Fortunately I'd been thrown clear of the maelstrom, unfortunately the rock had burst an inner tube and sharp stones had gashed my arms. I ran further out of the way of harm and allowed my heartbeat to return to normal whilst watching the devastation. It was then that I noticed the village far below.
My map gave me the name of the settlement, I quickly dialled 911 and informed them of the danger. Knowing there was nothing else I could do I tied a ligament to prevent further bleeding then turned to my bike and set about fixing the puncture. With cold fingers this task was long and painful but, when I was finally done, I could see strobe lights below and tiny figures hurrying away.
Darkness was bruising the sky and rain was starting to freeze into snow. In a desperate hurry I fled the mountain. Hours later I reached a timber visitor centre, an outpost of civilisation on the edge of hundreds of miles of wood and rock. For the last few miles I'd been on foot, snow having settled into a creaking, cloying blanket.
More good fortune; this visitor centre doubled as a ranger station and a light was still on. I collapsed against the door, it was locked but the sound drew the attention of the occupant. She saw me through the glass, wet, muddy and bloody but, bravely, she let me in.
"Are you OK? Come, sit down."
I was safe, I was going to live through this night. My saviour was just a little shorter than me with dark brown hair cut in a bob matched by dark brown eyes. She ducked under my arm and supported me as I stumbled towards an armchair. The visitor centre had a few cosy seats around a fireplace and a thick rug on the wooden floor.
"I'll light a fire, is your arm OK?"
"Yes, but do you have a bandage?"
She nodded and disappeared into a back room, hurrying back with a bottle of saline solution, a cloth and a bandage. I tended to myself as she conjured fire from kindling, paper and logs. Blankets were thrown around my shoulders and at last she asked:
I described the landslide and my long journey here.
"Was it you who called the police?"
I nodded and she knelt in front of me, her eyes fixed on mine.
"You saved 35 people, they got them out just in time."
"Oh god. That's crazy." I murmured.
I was shivering, so cold. The ranger introduced herself as Tara and in my delirious state I felt an immediate attraction to her. She stood and fed more fuel to the fire.
"You need to take those wet clothes off, you won't get warm otherwise," she said. "Here's another blanket, I'll turn around. There's no spare clothes here I'm afraid. Don't worry, there's no one else about."
She turned and faced a window. Pain shot through my legs as I stood and, with considerable effort, I began shedding sopping wet clothes, puddling them on the floor one by one. It felt surreal standing naked in this strange room but it was only a brief moment as I didn't wish to linger in this state.
It wasn't brief enough, however, for me to miss seeing Tara watching me reflected in the window as I glanced in her direction. I became aware of my cock - shrunken in the cold - and turned so that I unintentionally gave her a view of my behind too.
Damn. So fucking embarrassing. I threw a blanket around me and collapsed into a different, drier chair.
"Thanks, I'm done."
"Great, now is anyone expecting you back?" she replied casually, clearly not realising I'd noticed her voyeurism.
"Yes, the cycle hire place."
I gave her the number and she called them on my behalf, explained where I was and what had happened. She then went and made me a hot cup of tea. I was beginning to grow warmer inside and out.
"How're you feeling?" she asked.
"A little better."
"Good. I'll make you some more tea but I'm going to go check the road first."
My tiredness prevented me from even watching her depart. Instead my eyes were affixed to the fire, which by now was throwing out so much wonderful heat. Tara banged back in.
"Damn." she exclaimed, "The snow's coming in heavy and the road is already covered. It's a long way back down the mountain from here and I don't want to risk it. I'm afraid we're stuck for the night."
"Shit. I'm sorry if I delayed you."
"Well I could hardly abandon you here could I?" she smiled, "But don't worry, we're prepared for these situations. There's some food out back as well as a camp bed. We can make you comfortable here with all these blankets."
Thirty minutes later and we'd eaten some noodles and tucked into a couple of bars of chocolate. I was ravenous but at last starting to feel stronger. Whilst Tara tidied things away and got the place ready for the night, I threw some cushions on the floor and made myself a bed. The ranger returned with a bottle in her hand.
"This'll help us sleep."
She unscrewed the cap and took a swig of the whisky. I then accepted the bottle and threw back a glug of the fiery liquid.
"Care to sit with me?" I asked, relaxing back into a chair.
It was getting meltingly warm in this large room, the crack of burning wood interrupting the fluffy patter of snowflakes beating against the roof and windows. Tara sat in the chair next to mine.
We drank and shared our life stories. It was an enjoyable sensation being naked beneath the blanket yet so toasty beside the fire. Tiredness tried desperately to claim me and, sensing this, Tara withdrew to the back room and her bed.
I flopped into my nest and was immediately swept into sleep. Some indeterminate time later I woke. It was still dark, the blizzard had intensified and I guessed it was after midnight. The heat had seeped into my subconscious and I'd thrown off the blanket. I reached for it to cover my nudity but then noticed that more wood had been added to the fire.
Had Tara seen me naked again? At that same moment she crept silently into the room with more wood in her arms. She had stayed awake keeping the fire going, ensuring I was warm and trying not to awake me.
"Oh god, I'm sorry, I didn't want to disturb you. I didn't see anything, I promise."
I still didn't reach for the blanket.
"You don't need to apologise. You saved me tonight. You took me in when I was so vulnerable. I really appreciate that Tara."
She looked up, my body on full display for her. I was emboldened both by the liquor and the knowledge that she had been surreptitiously checking me out earlier.
"How's your arm?" her eyes drifted down from my eyes.
"I think it may need a new dressing."
Placing the wood down the ranger fetched more gauze and kneeled down beside me. I had modestly pulled a small triangle of blanket across my groin. The bloody bandage was carefully unwound then the new one wrapped around my injured bicep. Tara was leaning in close to focus on her work. When she was done she didn't move back but turned to look into my eyes again.
My breath caught as I made that slight movement with my head that signalled to her my desire for a kiss. She responded by meeting my lips with hers. I shifted so as to enable us to kiss deeper, by doing so the blanket fell from my body and I was naked before her once again.
Her hand travelled over my torso. She squeezed my good bicep, ran fingertips over my thighs then tentatively took hold of my balls and cock. Her head moved away and she smiled affectionately.
"When you burst into my station you looked like a fallen god. Some heroic guy with soaking wet clothes clinging to his amazing body. Then I saw you in the window and, despite what you'd been through, what you'd done, the state of this thing," - she squeezed my cock - "and your trying to hide it made you human. And that was so goddamned sexy."
I smiled back. She had not only seen my body, she had seen my thoughts too. We kissed again and I no longer felt embarrassed by the state of my dick. In fact, Tara was doing a good job of stroking it into its full glory.
"Is this good? Are you feeling OK?" she asked.
"It's great and I'm feeling wonderful."
Her proprietorial grasp of me felt natural, as though I belonged in her hands. It was a strange feeling being the one who just lay there. My aching limbs wouldn't be mustered into action, instead I allowed her to take control.
Fortunately for my confidence I was going through a period of being OK with how I looked. Exercise and sensible eating had kept me trim, I could even make out ripples of abs. If there were ever a time to be at peak fitness, cycling up a mountain then getting naked in front of a stranger was it.
At last it was her turn to shed clothes. She stood above me and removed her rangers uniform, revealing smooth skin that glowed golden in the firelight. Her chest was adorned with voluminous breasts. Like her body, she kept her pubic hair trim.
"Wait a sec." she said before dashing off to fetch a condom which she deftly rolled onto me.
Still sufficiently aroused by the sight of her, I was ready for when she straddled me and guided me inside her flatteringly wet depths. Before proceedings began she paused to let us enjoy this moment of initial penetration whilst she leaned down and kissed me passionately.
Apart from one notable exception, my arms and hands were the only other body parts capable enough to play an active part in this firelit fucking. I toyed with Tara's breasts and squeezed her tender buttocks. Her waist felt tiny in my hands and her back so delicate.
The way that she was fucking me was, however, far from delicate. This was a hungry woman, one who knew exactly how to ride a man in a way that gave her maximum pleasure. Her soft moans were so incredibly erotic, touching even; she was giving herself entirely to this moment.
Outside the blizzard tousled branches, the cold, violent sound contrasting with the soft touch and heat between our bodies. I slid a hand between us and used my thumb to press against her clit. The sensation of her clenching around my cock told me she liked this, the way in which she kissed me and sighed against my neck confirmed it. My other hand brushed against her asshole.
"Mmm, I like that," she said "but if you touch me there it's only fair I get to do the same with you."
She dismounted and stood above me like a conquering Amazon. I enjoyed the view from this angle. I'd enjoyed the view from every angle. It seemed as though she liked what she saw too and I glanced down to take in what she was looking at; an athletic man, cock stretched hard towards his belly button.
"Turn over." she asked.
I obeyed, curious as to what she had planned. I felt her straddle me again, this time resting on the back of my legs. She put her hands on my back and began squeezing and caressing, moving down slowly to address the aches in my thighs then moving back up to knead my butt.
One hand returned to my back, fingernails lightly drawing over my skin. The other hand sought out my perineum and asshole. This lady doesn't wait long to balance the situation, I thought. She spanked me a few times and it actually felt good - a distraction from the dull pain in my legs.
"God, you have a fucking beautiful ass."
I started thanking her for the compliment but she wedged her arms under my body and tried to turn me. I helped her out and she leapt back onto my still-engorged cock, hungry for more of what it could give her.
The look of sheer pleasure on her face. The way her breasts rose and fell in time with her rapid breathing. The way in which she reached behind and took hold of my balls. I loved every bit of it.
Her rhythm picked up pace and her fondling began to lose focus. I felt my own sap rising, the peak of orgasm suddenly not so far away. This extra firmness brought Tara to a screaming climax, her face thrust upwards as if she were shouting a prayer of gratitude to the gods of bliss. I like to think that they approved of her blaspheming.
I marvelled at how long she was able to extract every last ounce of orgasm. Just as a wind-up toy slowly spins to a halt, so she gradually wound down from her ecstatic exuberance. The most wonderful, satisfied smile appeared on her face.
"That was so good. So god-damned good." she breathed before rewarding me with another deep, lingering kiss.
Without saying another word she crawled beside me, removed the soaking wet condom and took hold of my dick. I liked to think that she wanted to bring me to orgasm as much out of a desire to see me cum as a sense of duty. The look of fascination on her face seemed to confirm this.
In this remote cabin, battered by a snowy storm but bathed in the warmth of a log fire I had found not only my saviour, but someone who knew exactly how to handle a man. It was my turn to look up to the sky, thrust my hips forwards and surrender to the overwhelming shudder of orgasm. Tara delighted at the sight of her efforts; creamy semen coating my stomach and a twitching, bucking penis.
We lay together for the rest of the night, occasionally waking to the sound of the storm and using it as an excuse to fall into one another over and over again. By dawn I had slept only a couple of hours, later that morning I was able to depart, my head full of exquisite memories of a night filled with relentless passion.