Games People Play
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Posted:Sep 10, 2012 3:09 am
Last Updated:Sep 14, 2012 5:38 am
15657 Views
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I said, “Hey baby, let’s go play!”
Thinking I’d get my end away.
She came back with a game of chess,
And beat me too, I must confess!
Inspired by [post 2997205] by xxVQ1xx. As for losing - male intelligence decreases with arousal - well that's my excuse! 
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The Eternal Damnation of Sex Addicts
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Posted:Sep 8, 2012 11:40 pm
Last Updated:Sep 13, 2012 12:18 am
15748 Views
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The image is from the 1925 movie, “Maciste in Hell.” No, I don’t know the movie either, but the image represents well a Judaeo-Christian view of hell. Bare-breasted women being eternally tortured by hairy satyr-like demons. It’s as iconic a view of hell as any other. There’s this whole thing about being punished for sexual licentiousness. Images over the ages do include naked men as well as women being tortured by fiends from the pit, but the movie, located in the 20th century, was made with the conscious knowledge of what titillates and sells copy. Favourite being the clergy. Favourite punishments being a red hot poker up the arse or some devilish and unnatural phallus about to do equally destructive mischief.
I find all this troubling in a number of ways. Whether we’ve moved on from this or not, it lies within our collective unconscious and thus colours how we see the world. When Europeans first came across the erotic sculptures on some Hindu temples, framed within their own western cultural framework, just couldn’t cope.
I can hear a ghostly, height of empire, voice in my head. “Dammit Carruthers! Memsahib’s never been quite the same since she visited that heathen temple! Bad form! I tell you it’s damned bad form!”
I get whimsical thoughts like that, I’m afraid.
Sometimes a whole whimsical train of thought.
For example...
I should never have become a platinum member of that religious website, but you know, I was tempted with life ever after, angel wings that fly brilliantly, free harp lessons. Stuff like that. Weak moment. Gave in. Even gave them my mobile number.
Big mistake!
Ever since then I’ve been pestered with phone calls from The Almighty. Now I know I’ve got a number of friends who are total wind-up merchants, but I checked that out.
They were coming from The Almighty. Aka God. Aka The Big One, Numero Uno etc.
“Warm,” said The Almighty one day recently. “I’ve got something I’ve been meaning to tell you.”
“Tell away!” I said.
“I’m generous and fair minded as a Deity, am I not?”
“Sure,” I said. I would have told my Creator straight if I thought otherwise.
“And I gave you guys free will?”
“Yeah. Thanks for that, God.”
“Well truth is, that includes freedom of choice about what happens after you die. The Judaeo-Christians get their heaven and hell. The ancient Egyptians got their Nile cruise. Atheists get total extinction and agnostics are entered into a lottery.”
“And sex addicts?” I asked. “You know, O Great and Mighty One. Those whose very existence is overwhelmed by ongoing naughty thoughts?”
No reply. Lost signal.
Spooky, huh?
So what do you think? An omnipotent Creator losing a mobile phone connection? I don’t think so! Are the legions of sex-obsessed in Blogland doomed? And if so, how?
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Oral Revelations
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Posted:Sep 6, 2012 3:31 pm
Last Updated:May 28, 2024 12:8 am
14047 Views
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I had a wonderful paragliding flight on the North Kent coast on Wednesday. Everything about it was perfect – the whole cliff run to myself, beautiful weather, wind speed and direction just right and I played around in the sky for an hour or so. Below on the clifftop there were folks walking dogs, sitting on camping chairs and soaking in the sun and the view, or just strolling. I could hear that distinctive rice krispie krunch! krunch! krunch! from a couple strolling along the pebble beach below.
There were a couple of women below taking photos of me, so I gave them a swoop or two for the best shot. A bit exhibitionist, perhaps, but c’mon, if you got it, flaunt it! That’s what I say!
Picture perfect landing ten yards from my car, parked behind take-off, and just a buzzy feeling that a great flight gives you.
Driving home I turn the car’s CD player on. Tom Petty’s “Learning to Fly” just happens to be the the track that comes on. Woohoo! Life’s good. Feelin’ fantastic!
I had a dental appointment later that day. First of a course. Haven’t been awhile, but mouth not falling apart. Stage 1: checkup and then a clean-up.
Now normally that sonic probe sends all sorts of weird and uncomfortable feelings as it goes about its business. But this time I felt very little discomfort at all. So much so, that I started visualising this post while in the chair. It occurred to me that I might well be totally doped out by endorphins from the flying.
And then, as the probe was circumnavigating my top left rear molar it occurred to me that others need to be told about this. Get your body soaked in endorphins and you’ll be able to face most of what any dentist can throw at you.
But how? Expecting others to share my rare form of aerial insanity was far too much of an ask.
On the other hand there was one way, more or less achievable by all, without (for the most part)....
You’ve guessed it.
Sex.
But it would have to be bloody good sex. A wank or second-rate, half-hearted bonk on the sofa simply wouldn’t get the E-levels up to minimal dental standards. With a dental appointment imminent it would have to be wild, passionate, mentally-crazed sex, with more than a sprinkling of wicked kinkiness. Could be a slight paradox if you’re going to use BDSM to get there if you’re submissively inclined, but look on the bright side – you’d have got the pain away before you went to the dentist and it would have been fun at the time.
And then I thought.....
What about, if like me, bloody good sex involved oral sex? I know there’s mouthwash and dentists wear gloves, face masks, even eye-protection, but to my quaint and old-fashioned take on things it still seems a bit, “Ewwwwww!”
So could you? Would you?
After all, you are on Mission Endorphin!
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The Risk of Cunnilingus
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Posted:Sep 3, 2012 1:56 pm
Last Updated:Sep 14, 2012 5:41 am
14463 Views
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Lick it, lick it, till it squirts
Lick it till your whole jaw hurts
Lick it till she begs for more
Lick it till your tongue-tip's sore
I licked it till we both went numb
And darling, now I'm struck quite dumb!
I grunt and groan about that night,
But mercifully, I still can write!
w&s 2012
Inspired by post "Just sayin'" from 50 Shades of Rut....... by MissRutty. Such naughty, raunchy thoughts .... mmmm! And I simply couldn't resist the dramatic quality of the pic.  |
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Older, No Wiser
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Posted:Sep 2, 2012 10:01 am
Last Updated:Feb 12, 2013 12:44 pm
15062 Views
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I am older, no wiser,
Still visibly me
And the forces that drive me
Are still plain to see.
My passions, impulses,
Still hang around; stay,
As time inexorable
Passes away.
Just grasping the tail
Of that demon
Called living,
Because its release
Will prove
Unforgiving.
So here I am now
In total denial,
Awaiting experience
To put me on trial.
Having been away from this site for four and a half years I've found it hard to do a "first post" all over again. I've seen familiar "faces" - that's been reassuring - some less familiar too - and the curiosity of the unknown is always exciting.
So I thought, start with something simple.....
I hope it's worth sharing.
warm xx
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Oh! I do like to be beside the seaside!
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Posted:Apr 19, 2008 2:54 am
Last Updated:Oct 18, 2010 12:25 pm
16470 Views
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Oh! I do like to be beside the seaside!
I do like to be beside the sea!
I do like to stroll upon the Prom, Prom, Prom!
Where the brass bands play:
"Tiddely-om-pom-pom!"
So just let me be beside the seaside
I'll be beside myself with glee
And there's lots of girls beside,
I should like to be beside
Beside the seaside!
Beside the sea!
It was one of those beautiful sunny days at Beachy Head and the soaring is good in a moderately strong southeasterly wind. It’s a cold wind because the English Channel is at its coldest this time of year. The view over Eastbourne a couple of miles away is brilliant and you get such good views from the sky. Ringside seat.
There’s only four of us in the sky at most, so it’s far from crowded. That’s nice. You can relax and play in the sky when you’re not too worried about mid-air collisions. And the parties of tourists down below taking pics and movies, waving and calling up, “Hello!” and, “I’d love to fly too!” all add to the occasion. It’s probably confessing to being a bit of a show-off, but there is something quite fun about doing a public performance.
Over an hour goes by and I’m just enjoying things. My fingers getting cold are perhaps the only thing that makes it less than the perfect experience. But then I get greedy …… I’m going to have a little adventure and see if I can fly all the way to Eastbourne and back again. It would round off a nice flight perfectly.
So I fly out to the run of cliffs that go down to Eastbourne. Although Beachy Head rises 520 feet above sea level these cliffs are lower ‒ about 200 feet at most and getting gradually lower towards the town. There’s a spur that runs out and if the wind is blowing in the right direction I’ll be able to use it to get back on top again. But it’s not to be. The wind direction has slowly but surely moved more to the east so its no longer square on the cliff face. It’s a common enough thing with cliffs and something a free-flyer needs to be savvy about - like never fly at high tide, for example. On the way towards Eastbourne I’m a couple of hundred feet above the cliffs ‒ just how I want to be, but then on the way back I’m fifty at most. I’m losing height. There’s a rocky shore down below and chalk rock is notoriously slippery when wet. So I turn back into wind. This will mean that if I have to land it will be largely into the wind and I’m much less likely to hurt myself as I will have practically no speed at touchdown. And I position myself just above the cliff edge to catch as much rising air as possible.
Okay then ‒ I’ve always wanted to do this ‒ let’s land on the beach at Eastbourne!
So off I go. There’s only one problem. Every sixty yards there is a groyne ‒ a very solid timber wall that drops about six feet on the leeward side. Another free-flyer has hit one of these in the past and ended up in hospital. Not for me if I can help it. There's a saying in free-flying: learn from the mistakes of others - you won't have time to make them all yourself.
But there is the promenade.
It’s a sunny day and the promenade is far from empty. To the left of the prom is a steep slope covered in ornamental gardens and stuff and this is giving me enough lift to fly a steady forty feet above people’s heads. I’m at the same level as the road, which is weird as I’m still airborne.
So I call out to those below, “Helloooooo! Glider overhead! Glider overhead!”
Some people notice.
Some don’t!
“EXCUUUUUUUUUUSE ME!!!!!!!”
How very polite, I think.
Even less people notice!
Too damned polite!
The slope with the ornamental gardens is slowly but surely getting lower and with it my height. There is no way I’m going to put anyone else at risk, so, seeing a ramp leading down to the beach (so the disabled don’t need to negotiate stairs) I follow it and do a perfect spot landing in the sand ‒ and sand’s my favourite landing stuff. Just like a soft, deep pile carpet.
Mmmmmm! Luxury!
There’s a cheer from the prom and I find I’m surrounded by day trippers, asking me questions and checking out my flying equipment on the beach. I know there are astronauts and top gun fighter pilots at the top of the flight-cred tree, and I know that to those people who fly airplanes we’re little more than skybums, but this kind of flying is the nearest thing we have to those stringbag pioneers of the turn of last century and there’s a romance and magic that technological sophistication somehow loses.
In a way this is being an aviator in that almost time-lost sense ….. and it’s a good feeling.
It’s almost therapeutic packing my wing away to the sound of waves on the shore and I find a local taxi company on my mobile to get me back up top. I tell him I don’t have the full fare and could he go via a cashpoint, but he’s happy to take me up anyway without the detour. What a nice guy - and he had a really nice big Mercedes Benz.
More luxury.
What? Walk back? Why do you think we like hills with car parking at the top?
While flying down the prom one day
In the merry merry month of May ….. er April
It was really a surprise
When I came down from the skies
But folks all seemed to enjoy the display.
Oh, and if you’ve never seen a groyne before, it’s in the pic!
No! Not that kind of groin - they're facing the wrong way! |
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Moo! Moo! Part Two.....
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Posted:Apr 15, 2008 5:17 am
Last Updated:Aug 11, 2012 9:10 am
15832 Views
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how very amiss!
how very amiss!
in my moo moo poem
i missed out
my sis
dear
delightful
and lovable rubes
whose well-worthy claim
is flaunting
four boobs
and a taurus symbol
shaved into her pubes
all very neat
and rather discreet
and frankly my dears
it is rather sweet
i personally think
that each private part
should be made
more attractive
by a work of art
i’m proud of dear rubes
and her wonderful udders
as she’s proud of me
i’m the best of her brudders
now let’s celebrate
genetic variety
and i promise
i promise
there’ll be no
impropriety
we’re just not
that
kind
of
family
damn!
nothing rhymes
with family
save lil sis
called amelie
and sadly
it's true
she's got
only two
sigh!
定armandsexy52 2008 |
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Honey! Sugar! Moo! Moo! Moo!
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Posted:Apr 12, 2008 3:42 pm
Last Updated:Sep 2, 2012 3:27 am
16040 Views
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Tell me this,
And tell me how
I am part human
And part cow?
I was just meant
For pure research
But someone left me
In the lurch.
So here I am,
The horny boy
Now ladies ‒
Please don’t be so coy!
I know that I’ve
Grown to the full,
And boy!
Am I hung like a bull!
I know it’s big,
But please don’t scream,
It really can
Serve up the cream!
So how’s about
Some how-de-do?
Mmmmmm!
Honey!
Sugar!
Moo!
Moo!
Moooooooooooo!
定armandsexy52 2008
A moment of whimsy following on from the revelation that scientists in the UK are allowed to create embryos for research purposes where the nucleus is human and the cell material bovine. |
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Losing My Load
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Posted:Mar 29, 2008 3:59 am
Last Updated:Apr 12, 2008 3:47 pm
16149 Views
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When it comes to dieting I’m like the smoker who is really great at giving up smoking because he’s given up loads of times. And because I have a fairly sound knowledge of human physiology I tend to think I know best, so I’m pretty sceptical about all the diet fads, which may or may not necessarily be a good thing. To me dieting is all about energy in and energy out. If you don’t overeat and you burn calories through exercise, which also raises the body’s basal metabolic rate (BMR) you will lose weight.
It’s a simple balance sheet. Just like your bank account, except you’re trying to overdraw your income to lose assets……
And lose ass along the way!
Now your image of dear old Warm is probably shifting by the moment as you read this post. “OMG!” I hear you mutter to yourself. “Warm is really nothing more than a big fat old couch potato. That picture he posted of his ass is a FAKE! Shame on you Warm …… etc. etc.”
Au contraire, dear bloggie ones. You can relax. That is my ‒ dare I be so bold as to say it ‒ fine ass and there is an explanation.
You know when you go to the airport check in your baggage gets weighed? And if you’re on a light aircraft you might be weighed as well? Well this is because there is a relationship between how heavy something is and how well it flies. There has been at least one passenger flight that crashed with total loss of life because all the passengers were overweight. It’s feather and brick stuff. For a paraglider pilot weight is really critical and a few pounds difference can make a massive difference to how you fly.
Now you might think that getting much lighter would be a really smart thing to do. That means getting up in the sky and climbing to the dizziest of heights, which is why those who free-fly fly in the first place. But there are three problems with this.
The first is getting down. You can get stuck in the sky. There are a number of conditions can make you so buoyant that you might want to come down but your wing doesn’t entirely agree. It was made to fly after all. Now you can take measures like pull the wingtips in, go into certain types of stall, or spiral dive your way to the ground, but they can go wrong on you and there’s nothing quite like something going wrong in the sky for being really scary. No-one in their right mind flies simply to scare themselves, and all flyers I know have been scared by one situation or another. Much as it doesn’t seem that way at the time being scared is good ‒ it stops you from killing yourself.
Unless of course you panic. That's NOT good. There is a fairly recent case of a relatively inexperienced paraglider pilot who plummeted to his death from about 3,000 feet in Tenerife. He had a perfectly good, working reserve parachute that hadn’t been released.
Scared = good
Panic = bad
But that’s another story.
The second is that the lighter you become the slower your glider flies. The trouble is if you are caught by a strong headwind. These can appear within seconds and catch you totally unawares. Valley landing in the Alps can be into very strong headwinds and I’ve seen paragliders there go backwards. Once you are pinned in one place there is no turning out of it and if you don’t have much height then a downwind landing really is a non-option. Hitting the ground at over 40 mph is like coming off a motorbike, and your legs simply can’t run that off. Ouch! Oooyah! Bounce-bounce-bounce! Even worse is seeing the ground going the wrong way beneath you and the only option is to get yourself down as quickly as possible and hope there are no barbed wire fences, trees, powerlines and stuff behind you. Been there ‒ don’t want to go there again. What I call an “Oh shit!” moment.
Then there’s the fact that if you’re too light for your wing there is simply not enough tension on the wing. This means it is more prone to collapses and less quick on recovering from them. Partial wing collapses are frequent with paragliders ‒ to the point of expecting to deal with them most flights that the conditions are anything but totally smooth. The sort of air movements that glider pilots use to get lift are the very same that cause bumpiness in flight ‒ you know, those disconcerting movements aeroplanes make when some passengers reach for that waterproof paper bag in the pocket in front of them.
“Urrrrrrrrrrrgh!!!!!! If only I’d learned to glide I would have got used to this…….
………… Hmmmmmm! Where did all those carrots come from?”
A little bit of rough never did anyone any harm. Rough air I mean.
But back to the point ‒ too light’s not necessarily good, but being light gets you up there. I have no intention of becoming anorexic, and it is a bit late now for me to develop a body image problem anyway.
Too heavy by the same token is not good either.
Being told by a flying buddy, “Hey warm, you flew like an eagle,” has a certain feelgood element to it that, “Hey warm, you flew like a turkey,” hasn’t.
I’ve only flown a wing for which I was seriously overweight once. Off a steep ridge called Ditchling Beacon. Seeing the treetops come closer than you’re used to seeing them approach wasn’t fun, nor was the landing …….. not a pretty sight either! Never again.
Well I’ve been trying to lose weight for a month now and I have lost a few pounds. At first all was well. The weight seemed to fall away. A brisk walk either side of the boat commute to work, light lunches, drinking tea rather than coffee, so no sugar intake, and no snacking all seemed to be adding up. A beer or two with friends from time to time didn’t seem to have a bad effect……
 ELDS
Eat Light Don’t Snack
Working….
Go warm! Go warm! Yay! Yay! Yay! 
And then, just as all seems to be going swimmingly well THE WEIGHT GOES UP AGAIN!
Not a huge amount, but the rapid weight loss grinds to a halt, and every gram shed becomes a battle in itself. Each minor indiscretion has a price to pay ‒ taking family and friends out for a meal, each Chinese takeaway …….. just looking at Easter chocolate stuff (which if I do eat will be a morsel at a time) all are lost battles in warm’s “gotta be an eagle - mustn’t be a turkey” campaign.
Then Defeatist Warm chips in……
Maybe I’ll be an action hater
Yup, be a sessile couch potata
Stay online, and just get fat
On ayeffeff I’ll blog and chat
Booze and snacks ‒ oh what a treat
And no more angst ‘bout what to eat
Tempting, huh?
Not when Gung-Ho Warm replies in a perfect take-off of Sinatra (Frank, that is, not Nancy):
Come fly with me, let's take off in the blue
Once I get you up there, where the air is rarefied
We'll just glide, starry eyed
Come fly with me, let's fly let's fly away 
Thanks Gung-Ho for reminding me.
Maybe I’ll be an action hater
Yup, be a sessile couch potata
Stay online, and just get fat…….
No DW. Not this time.
It’s just got to continue, hasn’t it? Flying in the Alps is now less than two months away, and there really are real eagles out there to soar with. I know most people have much more sense and want to keep both feet on the ground, but those whose feet leave the ground become enchanted and hopelessly addicted, and I’m one of them.
“He who has tasted flight will walk the earth with his eyes forever turned upwards, for there he has been and there he longs to return.”
What makes me think that Leonardo Da Vinci actually flew one of those two hang gliders he designed, with a sentiment like that?
So I have the incentive ………. I’ve just got to continue the struggle and somehow balance that against my inner being that takes not too much pleasure in being unduly hard on itself.
Now has anyone any advice?
And in case you were wondering ...... No ‒ that isn’t me in the lovely pic! And even though I might live in London you’d NEVER find me paying some celebrity chef a few hundred pounds for that meal! What are you try to call me .... a metrosexual??? |
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Slut
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Posted:Mar 15, 2008 9:05 am
Last Updated:Mar 23, 2008 7:16 pm
15864 Views
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Oh darling, you loveable slut -
To share my perversion and smut.
You always amaze
Me with all your ways
Of having a mighty fine rut.
定armandsexy52 2008 |
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5
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Innocence Lost
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Posted:Mar 8, 2008 12:31 am
Last Updated:Apr 19, 2008 3:00 am
16284 Views
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So precious was
My innocence.
My sense of wonder,
Sense of awe.
Yet traded
For experience
This precious gift
Is now no more.
This wordly wisdom
Bought so dear,
So often both
With grief and tear,
And now, in order
To seem strong,
I detach self -
It was so long
Ago, when then, naïve,
Before those gifts
Did I receive.
Gifts like the
Poisoned cynic’s eye,
That sneers at those
Who ask, “How? Why?”
Unknowingly,
What a poor trade
Those years ago
My young self made.
The irony's felt
with remorse ‒
It was with innocence,
Of course!
© warmandsexy52 2008 |
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5
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Overheard on a Bus
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Posted:Mar 5, 2008 10:46 pm
Last Updated:Apr 15, 2008 3:17 am
16342 Views
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A woman rang into a radio show yesterday and claimed she'd overheard the following conversation on a bus:
Mum: What would you like for your birthday?
: I'd like a book, mummy.
Mum: But you've got one of those already.
And to think I had such great hopes for the future! |
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To link to this blog (warmandsexy52) use [blog warmandsexy52] in your messages.
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