A meeting in the parking lot at nine on a cool night ….
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Posted:Apr 5, 2018 4:45 pm
Last Updated:Apr 28, 2024 2:15 am
2980 Views
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The meeting was for nine; I pulled into the parking lot at forty-. I was listening to some classic French pop songs on a CD. I turned the music down and looked around at the mostly empty parking lot. I wondered if the club was open? I looked up at the red and blue lights highlighting the name on the surface of the wall high above me. Another car pulled up to park, but, I didn’t see any get out.
So I waited. I was looking for your new white car, but wasn’t sure if you were coming in your husband’s black truck. I looked around the lot. I combed my hair while looking in the rear view mirror. I think you said I needed inches cut off when we were on the noisy dance floor last week. I had ear plugs in, and just nodded. My mother was always telling me to ‘get a haircut!’ So, I’m used to the admonition.
I tapped my fingers on the steering wheel. I was thinking that I haven’t had any sexual adventures this summer compared to the summer of 2015. But I’ll let that be ‘more mystery, and less history’ for now. This season it’s the bland leading the bland. Or, is it ‘let them eat fake?’
I love being lost on the dance floor and getting into the music and not thinking of some of the hum drum aspects of everyday drudge. To float on sounds on a grey tile floor with flashing lights and …an ‘I forgot what I was going to say’ moment. Or “I forgot what I was worrying about” coming into coniousness like an epiphany. Religion may be the opiate of some people, but some of us act like ‘shakers’ to get that divine feeling.
The clock struck nine, and I saw people head toward the door. A woman went by in clickety-clack high heels. So, I went inside to find you.
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Oral Sex - A Woman Who Likes to Receive
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Posted:Apr 1, 2018 5:34 pm
Last Updated:Apr 5, 2018 4:45 pm
3361 Views
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Oral Sex...a serious inquiry , analyzation, and PLEA
So based on personal experience, chats with gal pals, and reading "best of CL", among other internet forums, it seems that there are a load of men who suck (in a bad way / pardon the pun) at the act of cunnilingus.
Why is this?
I can't speak for ALL women, but I can certainly speak for myself and my girlfriends - a good eating out rocks our world like a hurricane but it's such a rare experience. There's just nothing like it. And yet, most men fail at this endeavor. I've plenty of Bi and Lesbian friends jokingly tell me that what I need is a good lesbian licking.....and while I believe them that women are probably expert lickers, I really am as straight as they come. I'm pretty open minded...and at times WISH I could change teams as so many men piss me off and break my heart....but I can't. I'm doomed to be straight forever.
Recently, at the advice of some friends, I checked out some oral sex porn. I'm not usually one to watch porn - most of it is so fake and comical and it makes me laugh..... even the good stuff, well, why watch someone else do what I'd rather be doing? LOL. Basically, porn has no relation to the "real" sex for everyday people and I think there are a lot of guys out there who think it is normal and therefore mistakenly think that using what they have learned from porn movies is going to make them a better lover. Um, newsflash guys: NOT!!!!
So I checked out some recommended clips and did some comparisons.
Here is what I gleamed from my research:
1. Even male porn stars seem to be severely deficient at cunnilingus; approaching the female bits as if they were going to electrocute their tongue or something. What's with the "dabbing" and biting? Ok, I'm sure there are some women out there with some fetish for that, but dude...really....not me and not any chick I know.
2. Fake Lesbians. Yea, that's right, I said it. Just because some guy pays two chicks to get it on in front of the camera, it does not make them lesbians. It's obvious that most of these chicks are not enjoying licking some other girls snatch....cause they are just as bad as the dudes....barely touching the clit with the tip of their tongue. They make lots of kissing and slurping sounds but aren't really muff diving for real. It's just a tease. That receiving chick's orgasm moaning is fake dude...she's acting.
3. My friends were right. Only real lesbians know how to lick pussy. The only REAL cunnilingus I saw was by REAL lesbians in a porn made by and for Lesbians.
Damn....those chicks know how to eat pussy!!!!! Once again, however, this is how I know that, A)Being Gay is not a choice, because  I'm definitely straight. Why? Because as good as that looked, and tempting as it is to go find me some really hot dike to lick me, it then made me shiver (in a bad way). All I kept thinking was "Why can't I find a man who can do that?" I mean, think of it this way....if you, a straight man, lives for a good blow job, would you be able to let a man do that to you just because he was he best cocksucker on the planet? No, you wouldn't....you want a woman to do it cause you are straight and you want to do other stuff too....to/with a woman. Well, the same applies here.
4. Conclusion: CUNNILINGUS LESSONS ARE NEEDED! All Straight men should watch some REAL lesbian porn to learn how to muff dive. Not the fake stuff....find the stuff that is made by and for Lesbians. Take notes if you have to. Maybe find some nice Lesbians willing to give lessons. Note to lesbians: This would be a really good community service for you. It would stop some of the stupid people from trying to "turn" or "cure" you. Maybe give the straights some satisfaction and de-stress them so they are no longer all wound up and uptight therefore no longer poking their nose into your business, etc. LOL. Happy people are less likely to discriminate. Maybe we'd get more support for gay marriage even! If they see you as an asset to society...well.... Besides, gay men have staked their ground - Straight women love them for helping us with design, makeup, clothes, our hair, and yes - how to give good blow jobs. And now both straight genders are in love with "Queer eye for the straight Guy" - those fab 5 have saved some marriages, ya know! LOL. I bet if you made it your mission to teach all straight men how to properly lick pussy.....well.....Straight men would love you for giving them that magic tool, straight women would love you and thank you for the orgasms,....shit, you'd own the world! You will have solidified your necessity in society!!! No more gay bashing, and since both genders in straight society would now be much less tense, I think we just might obliterate war and achieve world peace.
Seriously....think about my gay sisters, think about it.
5. ADVICE: So MEN....please learn how to lick pussy. Watch some REAL lesbian porn and give it a try. You like a good blow job, right? Well....then return the favor damn it. Stop being afraid of the muff.....but don't dive in like you are bobbing for apples and start of gentle. Make sure you DO NOT BITE OR USE YOUR TEETH unless she has specifically asked for that. Lick it all....lick it like it's your favorite ice cream!!!! Chris Rock once said in one of his stand up specials that "there are 3 kinds of women;
1. Those who don't suck dick...do they still make you? Goodbye, see ya! 2. Those who give you just enough to get by....(he dabs the mic with his tongue and says: That enough for ya?) and 3. Women who like nothing better than to suck a dick. God bless every one of ya!" Well boys, you can flip that around for the female point of view and it applies exactly the same. If you don't fall into category number 3, you are petty much a useless lover IMO. So check yourselves....ladies, if you aren't giving decent head, you aren't likely to keep your man, and MEN, if you aren't truly giving a decent effort to slurp her snatch, and aren't making her cum.....well....time to re-evaluate and pray that one of the few men out there who DOES lick pussy well doesn't get to her. Cause if that happens, you'll be kicked to the curb like a football at the superbowl.
ONE MORE NOTE TO MY LESBIAN FRIENDS: thanks to all the lesbian sisters out there who have, and no doubtedly will, offer me some good cunnilingus, but no thanks. Yes, it's tempting....I appreciate the offer and I'm quite flattered.....but really....I won't be able to return the favor, don't want to bump boobies, and I'll just wish you had a cock to finish the night. Yea, I know you probably have a nice dildo, or a strap-on, or a rabbit vibrator....but I'm an old fashioned girl....I like the real thing and only the real thing will do. I want the whole body of a good man. Like the old Coca Cola commercial..."Ain't nothin' like the real thing , baby...ain't nothin' like the reeeaaal thing!"
And remember.....CUNNILINGUS LESSONS just might = World Peace. Think about it.
So guys....we really do want to enjoy sex with you and have the best of intentions....but you gotta step up and do your part. The time has come for women to get ours! Now cowboy the fuck up and learn how to lick us like we've got the antidote to death or the fountain of youth in there.
Peace my brothers and sisters!
May you all get some good oral sex while you can!
Lustfully yours,
Yearning in B
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Finally did anal last night and...it felt fucking sensational!
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Posted:Mar 24, 2018 5:16 pm
Last Updated:Apr 28, 2024 2:15 am
3075 Views
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From a friendly source:
I (F20) finally did anal last night with my boyfriend (M21) of 4 years...on...and it felt fucking sensational.
For a bit of context: my boyfriend and I have been together for 4 years and counting, he's everything I've ever wished for in a man and someday I'm going to marry him. We love each other dearly and really have a deep connection with each other on all aspects. He always takes the time to understand me and know my likes and dislikes, and I with him.
We were each other's firsts for EVERYTHING except kissing, which was damn awesome because we got to learn things with each other and just keep building on it and improving our techniques to really get each other off in the most pleasing way. We have always been open to trying new stuff and over the past few months, I've gotten even kinkier than I ever thought I'd be...and I LOVE it and so does my partner. I love it when he slaps his cock on my face and throat fucks me till I cry or choke a little on his hard dick.
I love him slapping my ass until there's a hand print and slapping my cheek and grabbing me by the sides of my mouth and really throwing me around. I find it so so hot to let him treat me like a , it's SUCH a turn on for me, especially when he 'fake forces' stuff in sex and denies stuff to me e.g. Don't cum yet, I want you to spit all over my cock, don't move your hands, don't touch my dick until I say so etc. It's the hottest thing ever to me to be denied ANYTHING during sex because I get all riled up and just want everything at the same time.
Well we've been trying to have anal for a while now but I can never relax my muscles enough to just let it happen without having that 'need-to-poo' feeling. All I could ever do was fingers in my butt and only 1 at a time because it got too big for me to handle. Well last night, we did it together because we both feel that if we were to try anything out of the ordinary, it would be with each other because that's who we'd be most comfortable with.
Everything was amazing. Life was good. We listened to our favorite music and just relaxed with each other. I've never felt closer to him...we talked and talked for 4 hours but it felt longer.
We talked about so many things and even arguments that we haven't really solved and we spoke so calmly with understanding for one another and true love and care. I looked at him and just saw my whole future, right in my arms, the best man I could have EVER imagined...is mine ?
I felt so so damn lucky to have someone who is PERFECT for me and so lucky to have found him at such an early age. I only want to be with him, I only want to have sex with him and grow old and have with HIM. I got butterflies like I was 16 again. I was giddy and giggly and high on life. For a bit of context, I've always struggled with body image issues and have anxiety, but yesterday I felt on top of this world and really embraced all my curves and felt so so sexy, my boyfriend held me in the mirror naked and I can't think of any moment that beat that.
We got so horny and when we touched, everything felt AWESOME. We kept kissing and feeling deeper and deeper of a connection and I got so riled up that I asked him to take the dirt road... As I mentioned, I could never fully relax my muscles but I knew I had to if I wanted this to work. So I laid back and relaxed and we did it in the spooning position. He stuck it in and I got that need-to-shit feeling and I just firmed it and let it happen so I could feel better later, after the initial couple inches, as he pushed further and deeper into me, it only got better and better.
He pushed his dick all the way to the back and penetrated slowly and gradually got faster. I never thought I'd stop feeling that initial shit-feeling but I did and it felt like I entered another world of sex. It was so dirty and wrong and I found it so incredibly hot how fucking good he felt in my ass. He kept thrusting and pounding and before I knew it, I orgasmed and he came in my ass. NEVER did I expect I'd ever cum from anal because I didn't believe there was a G-spot there...but boyyy did I feel it.
Before this we had PIV sex and we both had the most sensational orgasms of our lives. Even though I never even THOUGHT it could get better but sex with him somehow ALWAYS improves day by day. The exceptional PIV sex coupled with the fucking awesome anal sex, sent my body in overdrive and I've never cum or orgasmed so hard before with both PIV and anal. He came so hard in me too and I just love him so much. He came about 4-6 times in total last night and I'm so lucky because he has such a short refractory period and so do I so we can literally keep going until one of us gets sore eventually.
I've had a fucking awesome experience and I just wanted to share my thoughts. I've never felt more secure in my relationship and I trust my boyfriend on a whole other level. I feel so much more secure about our relationship and it feels awesome.
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If you really love yourself, you'd keep a journal
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Posted:Mar 24, 2018 4:58 pm
Last Updated:Apr 28, 2024 2:15 am
2922 Views
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If you really love yourself, you'd keep a journal. Bold statement, I know, but I mean it.
The ultimate act of self-love is self-expression. It is confidently believing that your thoughts, both silly and serious, are worthy of note - no exceptions.
I assume I'm not alone in having spent a childhood and at least half an adolescence sporadically trying to keep a regular journal and failing at it consistently. Even as a little girl, when shame and inhibition should've been influencing exactly zero percent of my decisions, the act of keeping a diary filled with my daily thoughts and feelings felt frivolous and embarrassing and I never succeeded at writing more than one or two entries before I gave up.
I was perfectly fine dancing like a fool in the aisles at church or confidently yelling wrong answers out in class, but something about the act of journaling embarrassed me like nothing else could, which doesn't make any sense, right?
Don't we usually think of embarrassment as an emotion we only feel in a crowd, an emotion that comes as a direct product of being judged? Why then did the thought of keeping a journal, that was only ever meant for me, embarrass me to the point of giving up for most of my life? Why does the same thought still keep many adults from journaling to this day?
I think it's because we judge ourselves more harshly than anyone else ever could. In our (at least ideally) merit-based society, we're taught that the good ideas are worth sharing and the bad ones are worth keeping to ourselves, that the good songs should get on the album and the bad songs should get left on the cutting room floor. Now I'm not arguing that the bad songs should make it onto the album, I'm just saying that you're never going to write a good song until you write a couple of bad ones. In your journal. Without being embarrassed about it.
We all deserve a place where we can be free to create without fear of judgment from anyone, including ourselves.
A journal is a place to keep all your bad songs, all your embarrassingly terrible love poems and all the mundane details of your day. It's a place where you show yourself compassion by not holding yourself to a single standard other than production, a place where you make and document and keep and ramble - each word you write, a self-affirmation of your own right to be heard. Your journal can be notebook or a blog or a sketchbook or a bunch of voice memos on your phone - it doesn't matter.
But whatever form it takes, journaling is a way to get to know the truest, most vulnerable iteration of yourself. It's scary and intimate and weird but it's all worth it. So much can be learned by taking the amorphous mush of thoughts and ideas and feelings and memories in your mind and materializing them in any way you can. And so much can be gained. Don't believe me? Try it. I dare you.
I dare you to keep a journal that you write in every day. I dare you to love yourself one sentence at a time. I dare you to show yourself that your voice is worthy of being heard, even if the only person hearing it is you. I dare you to sit alone in a crowd and applaud for every one of your own bad songs, blissfully indifferent to their destiny to be left on the cutting room floor.
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How anal sex ruined my relationship - The evening was so perfect I thought...
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Posted:Mar 24, 2018 4:47 pm
Last Updated:Apr 28, 2024 2:15 am
3495 Views
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It’s New Year’s Eve, and I’m at the W Hotel in Manhattan with a boyfriend I’ll call Liam. We’ve been together for over a year, and this is the moment I’ve been waiting for my whole life: He’s going to propose.
The night so far has been perfect. We’ve just come back from a party. The champagne arrives from room service in a silver bucket. Liam hands me a glass. His piercing green eyes and jet-black hair are striking against his white tux. He motions for me to sit next to him on the bed. “I want to ask you something,” he says. My heart is pounding as I stare at the twinkling Manhattan skyline.
I stick my hand under the pillow, because I always imagined that when a man proposed, he’d hide the velvet box there, like an adult version of the tooth fairy. But there’s nothing under the pillow. It’s probably in his pocket. I sip my champagne and try to calm down.
That’s when Liam whispers, “Tonight, I want to do it up the butt.”
Most women would think, He’s not going to marry you, dummy. But in my twisted 26-year-old brain, I still think that marriage isn’t completely off the table if I give in.
Other women might think, That’s hot that he wants anal. Go for it!
But I’m really uptight. My old-fashioned Russian mother drilled things into my head like, “If you give the milk away for free, he won’t buy the cow.” I believed her.
I was a virgin until I was 20, when I finally had sex with my college boyfriend. I cried the entire time and asked him if he was going to marry me because I couldn’t live with myself if he didn’t. After he promised he would, I made him cuddle me for hours. This went on for a year until he cheated on me with a waitress at Steak and Shake.
After that, I had six failed relationships. This was my pattern: I’d meet a guy I liked. We’d look deeply into each other’s eyes at a fancy restaurant where they comb your tablecloth. He’d want to have sex, and I wanted to do it too, now that I’d been defiled.
But after we’d have sex, I’d feel like a slut and become that needy girl every man is afraid of. I’d call too often. I’d need too much reassurance. He’d start spending lots of time with his friends at Paddy O’s, the perfect place to complain about your crazy girlfriend over a pint of Guinness. And before long, he’d stop calling and break up with me.
With Liam, I was determined to do things differently. When I first spied him at a swing dance at the Supper Club in Manhattan, he was leaning against the mahogany bar drinking a martini in a neatly pressed button-down shirt. He asked me to dance a lot that night and we exchanged numbers. I invited him to my birthday party the following weekend in Boston, not expecting him to show. But he rode his motorcycle three hours in the pouring rain to come to my party. He gave me a limited-edition swing music CD box set and gray pearl earrings.
Liam stayed with me that weekend. We had amazing sex and talked for hours over cannolis at an Italian restaurant in the North End. Liam was 29, and he was already an executive at a top engineering firm. I’d found my prince.
He said, “I really like you,” and kissed me deeply. Then he wrapped my arms around his waist as I sat behind him on his motorcycle. We drove through Harvard Square, blasting through piles of red and orange leaves. I was in love.
Liam left to go back home. I worried, What if he doesn’t call? What if there is an Irish pub nearby?
I decided I didn’t want to ruin it with Liam. So I called up a professional: my sister Rochelle. We both had big butts. But Rochelle was more disciplined than me. By starving herself and exercising two hours a day, she turned herself into a skinny, blond goddess. She married a handsome surgeon who lived in a mansion on the North Shore of Chicago. She was the ultimate playboy tamer.
Rochelle said, “If you want to get that ring on your finger, it’s going to be very painful and you have to be fully committed to the program that I put you on.”
“Just tell me what to do,” I said.
I got a $300 wardrobe at Anthropologie and a fancy bob at a Newbury Street salon instead of my usual bowl cut at Fantastic Sams. I looked in the mirror. I no longer saw a gawky Jewish girl, I saw Diana, the dating huntress.
Next, Rochelle taught me the phone was my enemy. I wasn’t allowed to call Liam. We practiced. The phone rang. When I picked up, it was Rochelle, calling me on my housemate’s line. She chastised me. “What did I say? Don’t ever pick up the phone. Let it go to voice mail so he thinks you’re out. And when you call him back, respond to everything he says with, That’s awesome!”
Rochelle forced me to exercise. “Whenever you have the urge to call him, don’t gorge on gummy bears, do sit-ups,” she said. “You’ll have a six-pack and he’ll be dying to talk to you.”
I followed her program religiously. When Liam didn’t call for more than a week, I didn’t cave. I did crunches. I sat shivering on my futon in my drafty Victorian apartment, staring at my cordless phone, willing it to ring. Waves of insecurity pummeled me. Maybe he’d lost interest and found someone else. I called Rochelle for support. “Be strong,” she warned.
Eventually Liam called. I pretended to be unfazed.
When we were together, Liam acted like I was the most important person in his life. He monopolized me at swing dances. He took me on romantic picnics. We had great sex, and I didn’t turn into crazy Marilyn. I fooled him into thinking I was the calm, laid-back girl of his dreams. That’s when he asked me to spend New Year’s with him.
But now, at the W hotel, I don’t know what to do. Rochelle didn’t cover butt sex in the training. I try to call her from the bathroom, but she doesn’t pick up.
I panic. “OK. Go ahead,” I say to Liam.
He smiles and unzips my dress. He pulls back my pink lace thong and after some shoving and a lot of lube, he puts it in. It feels like my butt is being jackhammered by a giant apple corer. When it’s over, he asks me if I liked it.
“That was awesome,” I lie. I think, Now that I’ve done this, I’ll get my ring.
Liam excuses himself to go to the bathroom. I hear water running. He yells, “Oh god!”
“Is everything OK?” I ask. Silence.
“Sure, if you’re cool cleaning poop off your dick,” he says when he comes out of the bathroom.
I don’t even have to get crazy this time. He just stops calling. It’s over.
I have a dark few weeks. I put on my sweat pants. I hit the gummy bears hard. I cry a lot. I’d degraded myself to hang onto a man, and it didn’t even work.
But something inside of me clicks. I decide: I’m done with guys like Liam. I’m finished pretending to be someone I’m not.
A relationship that doesn’t allow me to be a human being with needs and preferences isn’t worth having, no matter how good it looks on the outside. Maybe I was cheating myself by not believing I deserved a man who could give me the support and attention I craved.
So I pack up my car and drive across the country. I swing dance in every city along the way. I have fun. I focus on fulfilling my own needs.
When I finally make it to San Francisco, it’s 10 o’clock at night. I go to Club Cocodrie in North Beach, where I know they’ll have swing dancing. Across the room, I see a tall, broad-shouldered guy with Buddy Holly glasses on. His name is Jeff. Jeff asks me to dance, and then he asks me out. After our first date, he calls me every day because he actually likes me.
Jeff never abandons me, not even when we’re trapped in a tiny hotel room in Madrid and I have such bad food poisoning that it gives me the runs and I can’t stop throwing up.
Before Jeff, I was convinced that dating was as stressful as piecing together a complex puzzle. But once I met the right guy, it was easy and clear. Jeff wanted to be with me, and I wanted to be with him. He was my best friend, and he accepted the real me.
In the end, I got my ring under the pillow. And I didn’t have to take it up the butt to get it.
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With Witches on Boston Common
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Posted:Mar 24, 2018 3:45 pm
Last Updated:Apr 28, 2024 2:15 am
3279 Views
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16 Sept 2017
I was there with the black hat shading my face from the sun, yet two people said to me: “You have beautiful eyes.” Witchcraft. We were in a row at city hall plaza in the shadow of the JFK building.
The women in witch costumes had signs: ‘Protect the Dreamers,’ ‘Immigration is a Human Right,’ ‘Support Immigrants – Deport Racists,’ ‘Welcome Immigrants Their ’ A lot of people gathered to take pictures as the witches sat on a cement wall in a row on City Hall Plaza. I was standing up to the side holding Workers Vanguard on a clipboard and in my hand hawking to the crowd.
Earlier, just after noon, a large table laden with food was set out to feed the arriving protest organizers and rally supporters for immigrant rights. Next to the Massachusetts 54th Memorial, at the top of the stone steps, a sound system was set up and some music was playing. At the foot of the steps, up against a wrought iron gate, there were many signs supporting immigrants and calling for the re-installment of the Dreamers – DACA act.
As the rally’s official starting time of one o’clock approached more people assembled at the foot of the stairs and around a nearby drink vendor with a pushcart. People were sitting on the park benches chatting and eating food with their protest signs by their side. A group of young women gathered closely together as someone took a ‘selfie’ with their phone. The grey skies of the early morning where clearing up and the temperature was a summery seventy degrees.
While there was a good twenty percent or more of the crowd who were older, most of the people look to be in their twenties. There were lots of white people and Latinos along with a smaller number of black and Asian people. Some people had in strollers or by the hand. The rally had a festive atmosphere with food and music and conversations and people greeting friends warmly.
Various groups set up tables with books and newspapers like the Socialist Workers Party, and Socialist Alternative. People circulated through the crowd selling Workers World newspaper, and Workers Vanguard. Some had leaflets to hand out. There were passionate political discussions among the many clots of people gathered around before the speeches.
A large group of about a hundred chanting youth marched up the pathway from Commonwealth Avenue with a large banner chanting “No Trump, No KKK, No Fascist USA!” to applause from the crowd which parted so the militant contingent could march to the front.
The crowd had swelled to about four hundred people as the first speaker began to address the crowd. On Beacon Street at the top of the stairs one police SUV with blue lights flashing blocked off one lane of travel, but the tourist double-decker buses and regular traffic still went by – some one on the tour bus might be able to get a picture that included the Robert Gould Shaw memorial and the assembled crowd rallying for freedom and compassion right nest to the statue. A dozen cops were near by some of them with bicycles. The police seemed relaxed and the rally and march had a permit with no seeming threat of violence.
A Boston Teachers Union member spoke, someone from the Chelsea Teachers Association also called for tolerance for immigrants whatever their status. Boston mayoral candidate Tito Jackson spoke to the crowd. Some of the speakers addressed the crowd in Spanish. People were steadily coming up the hill from Park Street Station. A brass band was playing near the fountain near the station, and the sounds drifted up and mingled with the chants.
One sign handed out read: “Trump: Tool of the Rich – Enemy of All Working People”
Another sign: “Justice for Immigrants #DefendDACA”
As the march was to begin the rally marshals lined one of the paths through the common and the speaker at the podium assured people that this was a completely legal march and that there was a permit and the police were in cooperation. The march headed down the slope towards Park Street and crossed Tremont Street as people watched and cheered or jeered from the sidelines. The common was full of people on a beautiful September summer day. Over at the bandstand the Cannabis ‘Freedom’ Rally was taking place. The marchers went down Winter Street as shopkeepers stepped outside to applaud the defense of immigrant rights.
The march turned north on Washington Street which was full of shoppers as the rally moved down the pedestrian mall. As the march stretched out there looked to be about 2,000 people walking and chanting and carrying signs. At the front of the march there were horn players and drummers making some noise and attracting attention. On the sidewalk people raised their cell phones to take pictures or videos of the protest. Many people applauded. In Boston immigrants have support.
Down Washington Street, past the Irish Famine memorial on School Street, past the Old Globe Bookstore now a food joint, past the Old South Church, and then left at the Old Statehouse where all of New England was once governed from by the Colonial Governor sent by the King.
Up Court Street past the back of the Old City Hall and onto City Hall Plaza and over to the steps at the foot of the JFK Federal Building. The crowd filed in and lined up on the stairs facing a podium and listened to speeches. A little after three o’clock the last speaker urged the crowd to continue the campaign to show support for Dreamers and other immigrants who need support from the community they are in, and from all decent people. The radical booksellers folded up their tables and some people left signs behind as the sound system was dismantled and some core planners gathered under the trees near City Hall to plan the next steps.
I was drawing on the train home and sketched on the back of a protest poster I picked up as I was leaving city hall plaza. I had a Workers Vanguard newspaper on my clip board and unrolled the sign on top as best I could on my knees. The front of the poster featured a picture of Trump with a diagonal red line across his face with a DANGER logo underneath and a yellow banner reading – ‘Racist Poison.’ Next to the graphic was the slogan: Trump Tool of the Rich – Enemy of All Working People. I turned over to the empty white back of the poster board and got a pencil out of my backpack. I looked up and saw a man’s tee-shirt facing me with an intricate Celtic weave pattern that I copied onto the back of the poster. In a trance I produced a wavy set of grey lines – what to put in the middle? I drew a cube head in isometric with Easter Island Eyes. You have beautiful eyes.
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Regular cannabis users have more sex, study says
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Posted:Mar 24, 2018 2:02 pm
Last Updated:Mar 24, 2018 5:23 pm
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(CNN)Dr. Michael Eisenberg, an assistant professor of urology, sees a lot of patients at the Stanford University Medical Center who have problems performing in the bedroom.
To determine what the problem is, they'll go through a laundry list of regular activities. Often, patients will ask whether they need to smoke less marijuana.
There isn't a lot of research on the topic. However, with marijuana becoming legal in a growing number of states, Eisenberg thought it'd be worth exploring.
What he found surprised him.
"Usually, people assume the more frequently you smoke, the worse it could be when it came to sex, but in fact, we learned the opposite was true," Eisenberg said. His study was published in this week's Journal of Sexual Medicine.
The study looked at data from the US government's National Survey of Family Growth. It asked more than 28,000 women and nearly 23,000 men how often they had sex in the four weeks prior to the survey and how frequently they used marijuana in the past year.
Women who didn't use marijuana reported having sex six times on average during the past four weeks. Women who used marijuana daily had sex 7.1 times on average.
The trend was similar for men. Men who abstained from marijuana said they had sex an average of 5.6 times in the four weeks before the survey, compared with the daily marijuana users who reported having sex 6.9 times, on average.
"We were surprised to see the positive association between users," Eisenberg said. "This was across the board: marital status, race, none of that mattered." The study focused on heterosexual sex, and it didn't explain why there might be a connection between sex and marijuana.
Eisenberg said past research on human and rodent models has shown that marijuana use may generally increase arousal. However, studies have also shown that too much marijuana use can decrease sperm count, and while men may want to have sex more, orgasm may be a challenge.
"It can have a different impact on different people," said Joseph Palamar, an associate professor in the Department of Population Health at New York University, who is not connected with the current study.
He thought it was a "cool epidemiological paper" that "did the best it could with the data," but it did have limitations. "It's unclear from the data if people had marijuana in their system before or during sex," Palamar said. Someone could smoke in the morning but not have sex until the evening, when it wouldn't be in their system any more, for example. He added he'd like to see a study that could show more of a direct effect on frequency.
Palamar authored a small study comparing the sexual experience of people who are under the influence of alcohol versus marijuana. Studying 24 adults, his research found that people under either influence had increased feelings of self-attractiveness, but alcohol seemed to make people more social and bold and helped them make more connections with potential partners, compared with those people using marijuana.
It showed that drinkers typically have more regrets about who they slept with and are less choosy, whereas marijuana users tended to be more selective.
Because marijuana is still illegal in the majority of places, Palamar found that most people have to smoke in private, and that could lead to more opportunities to initiate intimacy, compared with people who drink, since alcohol is everywhere.
marijuana may also have increased some people's sensitivity during the act itself, although some reported getting so "lost in their own heads," they weren't paying as much attention to their partners, and they did not enjoy sex as much.
"And if marijuana makes you paranoid, as it does with some people, it could really, pardon the pun, screw your ability to have an orgasm," Palamar said. Some women also reported vaginal dryness when they smoked pot, and that too can limit sexual pleasure.
Both scholars hoped these studies will encourage other researchers to dive deeper into the topic. In the meantime, Eisenberg said that if a patient asks whether his frequent marijuana use is getting in the way of his sex life, he will tell them that "it may not be the culprit."
Regular marijuana use can have other impacts on your health. Research in adults is still limited, but what we know is that smoking can irritate your lungs, and studies have shown it can raise your heart rate, making you more vulnerable to a heart attack.
"For most people, we tell them instead to go to the gym and lose 20 pounds," Eisenberg said. Being overweight can give men arousal problems.
"We always talk about anything that can be good for your heart can be good for your penis," he said. "For a lot of guys, hearing that is an amazing motivator."
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Craigslist drops personal ads due to sex trafficking bill (by Lia Eustachewich) NY Post
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Posted:Mar 24, 2018 1:44 pm
Last Updated:Apr 28, 2024 2:15 am
3165 Views
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Craigslist drops personal ads due to sex trafficking bill - by Lia Eustachewich (New York Post) 23 March 2018
Craigslist has yanked its personal ads section in the wake of an anti-online sex trafficking bill that passed in Congress this week.
The Allow States and Victims to Fight Online Sex Trafficking Act, or FOSTA, makes websites criminally liable for content that its users post, including ads and sex-trafficking content.
Craigslist -- whose personals include bawdy categories such as casual encounters -- said it pulled ads because it wasn't worth running afoul of the new law.
"Any tool or service can be misused," the website said in a statement. "We can't take such risk without jeopardizing all our other services, so we are regretfully taking craigslist personals offline. Hopefully we can bring them back some day."
It added, "To the millions of spouses, partners, and couples who met through craigslist, we wish you every happiness!"
Reddit also banned sex-worker subreddits, including , Male , Hookers and SugarDaddy, shortly after the bill was passed.
Previously, websites like Craigslist faced broad protections from legal liability for user-posted content.
FOSTA has been criticized by some lawmakers and sex workers for making it harder to combat sex trafficking.
"The failure to understand the technological side effects of this bill -- specifically that it will become harder to expose sex-traffickers, while hamstringing innovation -- will be something that this Congress will regret," Sen. Ron Wyden (D-Oregon) told CNN earlier this month.
Wyden and Sen. Rand Paul (R-Kentucky) voted against FOSTA, which passed 97-2 in the Senate on Wednesday. It is likely to be signed into law by President Trump.
Shaun Train Blogspot
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Saturday Night, Sunday Mornin
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Posted:Mar 24, 2018 1:29 pm
Last Updated:Apr 28, 2024 2:15 am
3385 Views
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Shaun Train Bloggspot
It was a dark and stormy night as I drove down River Street next to the trolley tracks into Milton. I went over the river, and through the woods with the radio on. I was going to meet a man who was Dominant, and had put a personal ad online. He wanted a 'submissive cocksucker' who would dress in sexy lingerie. He would 'train' someone to do things the way he liked. I answered. Because his ad was so detailed, I decided to include my phone number in the first email, along with a small picture of me 'dressed' in a black strapless bra, black women's underpants, and black thigh high fishnets with red 'fuck me' pumps. My phone rang very soon after I sent the reply, his voice sounded deep and masculine. He said he liked what I wrote, and he liked my picture.
He said he was going to be unavailable for two weeks, after tonight, so....would I see him tonight. I had to get ready, I asked him to call back. He did, and I said, "yes." I got my bag together with an all black outfit, and left my house at eight o'clock to make sure I got to his house by nine.
I had an aluminum box-clip board with my detailed directions from online maps. I did not want to get lost. I was driving down the highway south that I had taken to teach drawing classes in the past, so I felt comfortable in the setting summer sunlight on Route 93 South. I was listening to a CD of the Argentinian band 'Soda Sterno' -- and thought of the singer who was in fell into a coma one night after a concert when he was fifty years old, and then lived that way for four more years and died. Requiescat in pace et in amore. So, I must enjoy myself while I may....
I found the twisty, turny road a little confusing, but...then I'd come to a street name that was on my list. I found his development and drove over the three speed bumps he told me about. Then, into the parking space for guests -- a barked from and open upstairs window, and a woman glared at me through a screen door across the drive as I walked to the path. Well, I was a 'visitor' that's were my friend said to park. I saw the door number, and pushed the bell. After a moment the door opened.
"You're early," he said, eyes opened wide.
I shrugged. "Sorry, I guess I planned for an hour drive. What time is it?" I stepped inside. He had a big house and I could see a large screen in a room with a couch. "I can dress. Do you have to take a shower?" I could see he was in a t-shirt, and sweat pants. "I can sit and wait on the couch," I volunteered.
"You can change in the upstairs bedroom," he lead me up the stairs. I was nervous, but excited. I had found the place, and met the man. He did not ask me to leave, even as I came to the door with a dress shirt, tie, black jeans and a baseball hat. My long hair was hidden in a bun. He had asked on the phone if I wanted to come in the door without him seeing me in 'civilian' street clothes. I could 'dress' and he would only see me 'en fem.' I said, no. I wanted to shake his hand and look him in the eye when I crossed his threshold into his home.
There I was in the bedroom unpacking my backpack and dressing like a girl. I had black panties, a black bra, black thigh high stockings, a danceskin with a scoop neck, red heels, and a black skirt. I had even grabbed a black cape - to be goth. I had some sunglasses I stuck in my neckline. I went down the stairs with my male clothes in my backpack, and my high shoes in my hand so I wouldn't stumble in the dark, and on the rug. I went to the large living room with the huge screen showing two women feeling each other. Some ethereal music was playing.
I could hear the shower. I looked through my purse for some lipstick - I had to look carefully in the light for the red. I do have some green lipstick I got for dressing like a witch at Halloween. I looked around for a mirror. I didn't see one, so, I just put the lipstick on carefully in the middle, and then kissed my lips together. The Master had said on the phone he wanted me to wear lipstick. So, I did.
He came through the hall past the raised dinning area with a large table and a laptop at the end. He had on a white bathrobe, and his glasses. He was in his bare feet, and taller than me - he wrote that he was six feet two. I'm a little five foot five. A tall Master, and a little sub.
"So, are you ready to begin?" he asked me.
I was balancing with my arms out near the window and an end table in the thick carpet.
"Yes," I said enthusiastically. I wanted to do this. I had the cape and swirled it around me and stepped past him to the step up to the dinning room, with a doorway. I could cross that threshold.
"So," he said seriously. "You know I don't want to do anything degrading, or humiliating, or painful."
"Yeah, I'm ready to be submissive, but, I don't want to be insulted, or told I don't look to good, or ....." I trailed off.
"I won't do anything like that, " he said reassuringly. I was taller standing on the step, and with my heals, so I was looking in his eyes. He was honest. He had blonde hair cut short on the sides with a little combed up in waves on top. He had glasses, but I could see his blue eyes. He had a nice square shape to his clean shaved face, and was fairly in shape. I liked him.
The room was inviting. There was a large couch, with a desk and chair behind. That's were I put my backpack. I left my disc of soft Spanish Classical Guitar in my bag. He had on good music. The windows along the back wall had long blinds, maybe it was a sliding glass door to a patio, or something. The center was the very large video screen, with just videos of women together. The sound system was very good.
So I stepped down to begin our play in his living room arena. "Stand over here," he pointed near the end of the couch near the window, "facing away from me." He took off the bathrobe and stood there in skimpy underpants. "Take off the cape, that's not going to work."
I walked over to where he told me to stand and faced the windows in the dim light. There were a few lamps around the room, but everything seem to be turned low. The television provided a flicker. I untied the long black cape, and flung it dramatically over the back of the couch. I stood expectantly, curious about what he wanted to do, but calm, because, he was running the show. I was an actor, and he was the director.
He was behind me and lifted up my skirt and felt my behind. "You will only speak when spoken to. You will address me as 'Sir.' Is that clear?" he said calmly. His voice was pleasant.
"Yes, Sir," I said obediently. At least I wouldn't have to struggle to come up with things to keep the conversation going. I looked at the long blinds as blue lights flashed from the video screen. The music was a kind of strange 'house' rhythm with sexual overtones. I felt relaxed, but excited. He turned toward the video screen.
"Stand right behind me," he said.
He was taller than me, even if I had on five inch high heels. He reached up to the back of his neck.
"I want you to start licking here, and go all the way down my spin, to the bottom."
"Yes, Sir."
I thought I knew where this was going. My tongue was heading for his ass. I was the humiliated submissive. But, that's why I came. So, I started licking slowly down his spin. I did feel sensuous, and stimulated. My hands were gently holding onto his sides so I wouldn't fall off my heels. I got down to the bottom and the elastic string of the skimpy thong he had on.
"Now, lick my cheeks."
"Yes, Sir."
I licked along one side of his ass cheek, and then over to the other. Back and forth, each time a little closer to the center, and the thong string elastic. "Lick in the middle"
I pulled the string aside and slide my tongue deeper between his ass cheeks and felt the soft tissue. I was licking his asshole. I was a submissive bottom on my knees dressed like a woman and kissing my Masters behind. I felt a little humiliated. But, not much. Who was I hurting? No one. This was between me and him, and for a little while, at least to begin with. We were playing. So what. He had just taken a shower.
He was facing the video screen, watching the girls wiggle and play. He moan a few times. I closed my eyes and licked away. When he pushed back, I stuck my tongue in more. To myself I said, "In for a penny, in for a pound."
We seemed to do it for a while. I started to just concentrate, and stop thinking about other things, and got into the physical feeling. My Master made approving sounds and told me it felt good. I felt proud. I was a good little sub, who could bring pleasure. I was a submissive ass licker for my gently dominant Master. I felt comfortable.
He turned around and presented me with his cock in a thong or cod piece, or whatever. I went to touch to pull it off.
"No," he said firmly. "Not yet. Lick my thighs."
So, I licked either side of his thighs, my tongue brushing along the sparse hair, and my mouth brushing against the fabric of the prick in the underwear as I went back and forth. It was hanging down heavily. I had not seen his prick yet. Only in pictures.
He pulled his cock out, and took the underwear off stepping from one foot to the other on the rug, his prick dangling inches from my face. I was on my knees, and he stood before me and moved his prick to my lips. The moment of truth. I opened my mouth, and stuck out my tongue to just touch the tip. Electricity. What a feeling.
His prick liked me, and was dangling down, growing. I put my lips around the mushroom head and licked around and around and around. He moaned. Master liked it. I was a good submissive cocksucker. I love giving pleasure.
Back and forth, fast and slow, in and out. I loved seeing his prick up close. I liked cupping his balls with one hand and holding the base of his cock tightly in the other hand while sucking the head. I know enough to simply always keep my teeth covered with my lips while putting a prick in my mouth. The 'secret' to pleasant oral sex with a man.
He sat down on the couch with his legs spread and his prick sticking in the air. I sat between his legs. I sucked some more. Up and down, side to side. Lots of action. For a long time I was sliding up and down. His hard prick felt so smooth an warm, and alive. I loved the feeling of sucking him, and hearing him make approving sounds. He had his hands across his chest, and didn't push my head down, or guide me. He did tell me to do things.
His long legs were stretched out on either side of me as I was on my hands and knees with his hard erection stuck in my mouth. He reached over and got a bottle of oil and put it on his prick, and put some on my hands. He wanted me to squeeze him tight and play with it for a while. So, I did. Up and down, slip and slide. His prick glistened.
"Now take the head in your mouth," he told me. So, I took the prick in my mouth while squeezing and jerking the shaft hard. "Harder!" he said.
"Yes, Sir!" I stroked hard and licked around the head and felt a salty taste. My Master was coming in my mouth. I felt like a successful cocksucker. With the intensity of his orgasm he suddenly froze.
"Stop!" he said. I still held his dick in my hand, but very gently eased off pressure. I didn't move. I let him enjoy the moment. Seconds passed. Was it a minute. He opened his eyes.
"That was so good. Thank you."
"You welcome, Master."
I was so happy to please. I stood up and straightened out my clothes. I took off my high heels and stepped back. I sensed the 'scene' had ended.
"Shows over Synergy," I said.
"What's that?" he was going to the computer at the dinning room table as I put my shoes in my back pack.
"The line is from an old 'girls' cartoon - 'Jem' were a plain girl used a sophisticated computer to project holograms. When her transformation was over Jem would say, 'Shows over synergy.' I liked the realistic drawings and backgrounds."
I was packing my back, and taking my girl clothes off. I was back in my black jeans.
He called from the dinning room table. "I found some Jem videos on Youtube. They also say there is going to be a movie." I could hear the Jem theme song playing from the laptop. "Jem...is truly outrageous....No one else is the same, Jem is my name."
Our session was over, so I could be my chatterbox self again. He said we should get together again, and that we had each other's phone number, and email. I liked being with him, and, I think he liked being with me. I dressed in my 'male' neutral clothes, but couldn't find my clip on tie buried in the bottom of my back pack. I put my flat shoes on, and shock his hand, and was out in my car in the cool night air.
I was glad we had a successful 'date.' I drove home happily thinking about what we had done, and how I had been a submissive CD bottom without any problems. I had my music on again, and was thinking of the man I had just pleased. I wanted to do that again. I knew I'd have sweet dreams.
Xenagogue Vicene
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Anyone lived in a pretty how town?
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Posted:Oct 5, 2014 4:05 pm
Last Updated:Oct 6, 2014 3:59 am
9296 Views
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anyone lived in a pretty how town
(with up so floating many bells down)
spring summer autumn winter
he sang his didn't he danced his did.
Women and men (both little and small)
cared for anyone not at all
they sowed their isn't they reaped their same
sun moon stars rain
guessed (but only a few
and down they forgot as up they grew
autumn winter spring summer)
that noone loved him more by more
when by now and tree by leaf
she laughed his joy she cried his grief
bird by snow and stir by still
anyone's any was all to her
someones married their everyones
laughed their cryings and did their dance
(sleep wake hope and then)they
said their nevers they slept their dream
stars rain sun moon
(and only the snow can begin to explain
how are apt to forget to remember
with up so floating many bells down)
one day anyone died i guess
(and noone stooped to kiss his face)
busy folk buried them side by side
little by little and was by was
all by all and deep by deep
and more by more they dream their sleep
noone and anyone earth by april
with by spirit and if by yes.
Women and men (both dong and ding)
summer autumn winter spring
reaped their sowing and went their came
sun moon stars rain
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'You're So Vain' Another song stuck in my head on a sunny Sunday evening - out, out song!
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Posted:Aug 24, 2014 2:02 pm
Last Updated:Aug 24, 2014 2:12 pm
11773 Views
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Carly Simon's 1972 hit "You're So Vain" with lyrics below. ( I don't think I can give a link to Youtube, but look up - You're So Vain - Carly Simon Cover - Hayley Legg ) Good amateur effort with a pretty black haired girl with blue eyes and a pleasant voice.
LYRICS:
You walked into the party like you were walking onto a yacht
Your hat strategically dipped below one eye
Your scarf it was apricot
You had one eye in the mirror as you watched yourself gavotte
And all the girls dreamed that they'd be your partner
They'd be your partner, and....
You're so vain, you probably think this song is about you
You're so vain, I'll bet you think this song is about you
Don't you? Don't you?
You had me several years ago when I was still quite naive
Well you said that we made such a pretty pair
and that you would never leave
But you gave away the things you loved and one of them was me
I had some dreams they were clouds in my coffee, clouds in my coffee and....
You're so vain, you probably think this song is about you.....
Well I hear you went up to Saratoga and your naturally won
Then you flew your Lear jet up to Nova Scotia to see the total eclipse of the sun
Well, you're where you should be all of the time
And when you're not you're with
Some underworld spy or the wife of a close friend
Wife of a close friend, and....
You're so vain, you probably think this song is about you.....
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To link to this blog (ShaunaDorothy) use [blog ShaunaDorothy] in your messages.
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