This blog isn’t here. It’s there.
Ok – I'm getting ready to move to WordPress. If you're into that kind of thing, you can watch in real time over at my new domain – www.mydissolutelife.com. I should be up and running there in a few days, but keep coming here until I actually move.
but Google has reactivated my G+ profile. I still think I'm going to investigate moving away from Blogger, and ponder getting off G+. I think it's really hit home how much I'm product, rather than customer for them. I think I might prefer to be someone's customer….
I have a love/hate relationship with porn. On the love side, I consume it regularly. It’s my favorite masturbation accompaniment – I prefer it to fantasy infinitely. Well, that’s not quite right: fantasy plays a huge part in my life – it’s just not how I bring myself off when I’m rubbing my cock. That’s how I use porn. And not just when jerking off – also as a sort of idle leisure-time activity.
On the hate side? The vast majority of porn not only doesn’t arouse me – it actively turns me off. There’s almost no porn (other than, as I’ve written, X-Art, Amateur Allure, and the “OnlyAllSites” suite of web sites) that resonates for me, and, the way I’m wired, I’m constantly in touch with the portion of my reaction to anything (including/especially that which I find most satisfying) that’s disappointed. So herewith – a review of the porn I dislike least. A healthier person might manage to present this as a review of the porn I like most, but hey – that would be another dude’s blog.
Yesterday, I wrote about pussies – today, I write about breasts. I like them. I like them big, I like them small. Perky, saggy, big aureolae, small ones, inverted nipples, eraser nipples – you name it, I like it. With one exception: silicone. I hate silicone.
Go to any strip club, and you’re sure to see a horde of pneumatic women, breasts that don’t move when the women to whom they’re appended hang upside down on poles, breasts that defy not just gravity but entropy – by not bursting.
Why do women want these breasts? Why do men want them?
My trainer – a hot, young, thing – had beautiful B-cup breasts. (The picture below shows what her breasts used to look like.)
Unfortunately, she wanted something a little more… attention-grabbing. So she saved up and stuffed some 20s in her breasts, after first converting them into silicone. Now? She looks (to me) ridiculous. And she doesn’t look hot any more….
A wise man once said to me that the reason many men prefer large breasts is because it is a sort of insurance policy against the possibility that they might harbor some latent homosexual feelings. Or maybe it has something to do with our fantasy relationships with our moms. Who knows?
But it’s not for me.
Let me start by saying, I love pussy. I love eating it, fingering it, fucking it, looking at it, pressing against it , and thinking about it. Whether it’s bushy or waxed, I love it all.
But the time has come for me to weigh in on pubic hair. (I know, I know – “N,” you’re saying. “What the fuck took you so long?”)
When I was growing up, the idea that a woman (never mind a man) would shave her pubic hair was unheard of. Playboy, Penthouse, Club, High Society – the bibles of my adolescent sexuality – all featured copious bushes, and this was part of what made them so hot.
All of the images that I jerked off to as a kid featured unshaven, often unruly bushes, and this was part of what, at the time, I understood sexy to be:
The kids today (and by kids, I mean people in their, oh, say, 20s-50s) seem to favor all ladies shaved (see ALSScan for a site dedicated to particularly clean-shaved women – it kind of creeps me out, feeling dangerously close to kiddie porn).
And not just ladies, guys too.
First, some very basic prejudices: women have pubic hair, girls don’t. For this reason, I find it a bit unsettling when I encounter a woman with no pubic hair, whether in porn or in real life. It always activates my “ACK – she’s a little, pre-pubescent girl” switch. And for me, this is not a good thing. I don’t like being called “Daddy” – except by someone whom I’ve fathered – and I don’t want to think about pre-pubescence when thinking about mashing together private bits. I don’t care if you like calling your partner “Daddy,” but if you call me “Daddy,” my cock will shrink to the size it was when I called my Dad “Daddy.”
In addition, unless you’ve been waxed TODAY, it’s likely that a consequence of your most recent landscaping efforts is stubble. Now, stubble’s fine on a leg, as far as I’m concerned. But rubbing against my cock? Or my tongue? Or cheeks? Only if I’m kissing a man, and that’s something I do very infrequently, what with how I’m straight and all. (Not that there’s anything wrong with it, or that it can’t be really hot.)
My own preference runs toward the “neat”: I feel about pubic hair pretty much how I feel about the hair on your head. I like it neat, and think its style should reflect your style. This could be a perfectly manicured landing strip; it could be a neatly trimmed lawn; it could be a neat, but somewhat bushy, well, bush. It’s not something I ever think much about in the heat of the moment. (I’ve never thought, “Ew, well, I was going to fuck her – but look at that – she’s got untrimmed pubic hair!”) More often, I think, “Ooh – yummy!”
A few months ago, I attended a party in New York at which expectations concerning pubic hair were made abundantly clear in a cautionary e-mail sent out the night before the party:
Although our guests constitute the hottest crowd of any erotic event in the world, we nonetheless must address the topic of hygiene and grooming for MALES. Often, pictures we receive don’t reveal details that we later find out at parties. Guys, if you have a hairy back, shave or wax it. If you expect to have a chance of anyone (including your significant other) to go down on you, you should also shave and trim your lower member. Women at our parties are always well-groomed and take care of themselves, so it’s important that the males do the same. If you aren’t cool with this, you will not be invited back. We require a high threshold of quality for our upscale, sexy guests, for the benefit of everyone else attending (including potential playmates).
I had visions of an inspection of my man-scaping, of being thrown out before the party began, or of a woman taking one look at my somewhat hairy nether regions and sneering in disgust. In the event, we pretty much stuck with the couple we had arrived with, who received my pubic hair just fine.
Now – I’m neat and tidy. I generally do a bit of man-scaping. I adhere to the preferences I laid out above: mine is neat, but it reflects my style. It looks less like topiary than like shrubbery, and, as with my head and my face, I generally let a day or two too many go before shaving, except when I have big plans.
All this baffles me just a bit: seems to me, people should do what they’ll do, that it seems an odd place to feel entitled to have expectations about what others do, but, at the same time, I’m genuinely confused by the seemingly hegemonic preference for bareness.
I’m a fan of some hair on both men and women. I think totally bare isn’t so attractive. Also, I think it’s too hard to maintain, speaking as someone who has really bad luck with waxing. It’s uncomfy to shave certain areas, and stubble on top/in the apex of the cleft rubs him the wrong way. Not a fan for either of us.
As for him, I am a big fan of neatly, shortly trimmed, and nearly shaved on the balls. It’s soooooooo much better for oral. Like unbelievable to me how much more pleasant it is than with a full bush. And honestly, without some hair, I just don’t think it would smell as good. Scent is very important to me.
And Debutante Dilettante, who says, “trim but no more.” She says “absolutely not!” to waxing. Or said that, but has been tweeting today about her “Hollywood waxing” in anticipation of her own first visit to a sex party. (I have no idea what a “Hollywood” is.) And finally, Bi and Bi, who says she’s been waxing lately, because she can’t get “smooth enough” from shaving.
What do you think?
"Get it up," "keep it up"…. These don't feel remotely accurate to me. They suggest that I have something to do with the mysterious hydraulics of my cock.
I've found myself hard on a bus filled with denture-wearing, demented senior citizens, and soft in the mouth of the hottest of sex partners. Sometimes, I think my cock is a barometer of my mental state, my true, subconscious level of desire. Others, I think its turgidity is random, or worse.