The Church of Cunt

I want you to be my day of rest. I want to kneel before you.

Belittle and smite my minor and petty concerns. Nothing is to distract me. Empty my head. Make me strip off my clothes. Drink your nectar and prepare me to receive the word that will set me free.

I want you to bow down and open yourself up in shameless generosity. Show me that nothing is as important as what is happening now. Feed my need. Show me the true way. Please let me drink of it.

Feed me. Nurse me. Let me into you.

I will give up my desire to you and give all without caution. No guilt and no remorse. I want to be delivered into the kingdom of your worship. Know now that I will confess all my sins and relive them for you. If that kind of thing gets you off.

I will worship you with my cock as you worship me
with your tight cunt. I will spill my sacrifice inside the sanctuary of your pink flower and onto your holy breasts and into your willing hands. I will give my life to you and never stray from the true glory of our physical and spiritual savior, the life-affirming communion of two bodies intertwined and sharing and exploding in heavenly bliss.

Ahhhh...maaaan....

Last Night's Memory, Today's Promise

 Feeling horny today and want to get my exhibition on.

Last night I fucked my wife - she came but I didn't but she promised she'd fix that today. She's out for now but will be back in a couple hours.

Cameron Diaz's Pussy

What is it about Cameron Diaz? They keep making her think about her pussy and I'm getting tired of it.

Wait, back up, this seems weird to admit. Cameron used to be about the cutest starlet working, especially when she hit the scene in The Mask (1994) with Jim Carrey. Innocent and able to hold her own against what was a force of nature in movies, then moving to romantic comedies and a starring presence in films that wasn't too ball-busting or intimidating; sweet, she was the lithe blonde who starred against John Cusack, Ewan McGregor and Ben Stiller early in her career, America's new sweetheart.

But her career is penetrated every so often with sexy, almost randy, nearly pornographic teases that suggest she's comfortable with fucking, certainly comfortable with body fluids.

Example 1: The Sweetest Thing (2002) is about a trio of girls who were simply looking for cock, it created a certain small scandal when it was released but it bombed (it wasn't that it was too ahead of the Bridesmaids era - it's simply terrible).

There's Something About Mary (1998) is always going to be about cum in her hair.

In Bad Teacher (2011) she put her drunk whore on, and in The Counselor (2013) she actually fucks a windshield of a Ferrari. (What I wouldn't give to see the outtakes of the reverse angle.)

She was the hottest thing in Charlie's Angels, which is a trick because the competition was pretty fierce. I have the serious impression she's a freak, loves getting it on and getting it in - and is trying to become some kind of sex symbol by appearing every so often in films that verify her sexiness, sell her hot toned body, and...

...make us all think about her pussy.

It's almost working. She's not quite gone the Janet Jackson or Miley Cyrus route. But there are hundreds of promo pix of Cameron, emphasizing her thin body and her thigh gap.  She used to be heavier (maybe as much as 125) but now I wonder if she tops 110.

Look at the poster for Sex Tape, for example. She's in incredibly good shape for a 40-something woman, buff and perfectly air-brushed. Yet when you look at her next to Jason Segel you realize she's a stick. 

I know, it's all promotional legerdemain but there's something off-putting and unsexy about her now.

This seems weird to admit.  Look at her pussy (I defy you!).  The panties she has on have been smoothed to a blobish pink mystery, probably to get the poster approved for public display.  You don't want any cameltoe, any sense of space, crease or pubic mound on the local bus shelter now do you?

 So they've made her pussy a soft piece of couch fabric. Poster approved. And I can't help thinking about her pussy again.

Now I wonder if really she really has some flappy used-up Lohan clam instead of the flower I imagined back in 1994. I wonder if it's only a matter of time. An insecure hit-or-miss blonde Hollywood actress trying to remain relevant and get attention, not sure how to preach empowerment while agreeing to fuck a car for Ridley Scott. I think she doth protest too much.  

Sucker

I'm obsessed with the tentacles here that women can put inside them.

Women have all the fun. They have more toys, more textures, more sizes, more options. Where's my tentacle?  All I can do is fuck a piece of plastic that's a little hard to hide as a piece of sculpture.

The Icicle Tentacle #24 is a beautiful piece of glass you can display on your mantle.  Only the dirtiest minds (and you know who you are) will recognize its alternate purpose.

There are rubber ones and glass ones.  Big ones and little ones.  Wide and long; Bad-Dragon has a whole size chart for each dimension.

There's a whole huge subset of tentacle porn out of Japan; mostly anime/hentai, drawn with impossible girls, multiple penetration, liquids and pixelated genitals (like blurring the pussy crease makes the octopus tentacle rape acceptable for the whole family?

It's not as easy to find live-action tentacle dildo footage but there's a couple. Here's the best I could locate, featuring a cute goth-y girl with tattoos, a dyke haircut, thick sexy thighs and some enthusiasm.

She's got great lighting too (natural from a window) and changes positions every so often, always good for an extra star:

HERE: http://www.tube8.com/erotic/hot-chick-takes-tentacle-dildo-in-her-sloppy-cunt./17930912/

Which highlights what may be an important aspect of my obsession with these tentacle fuck toys right now. The kind of women who would fuck themselves with them. Feminist (?), genre-loving (hentai/Cthulu/sea creatures) women who are comfortable with their bodies.

Fuck you I weigh more than 110 lbs.  I'm putting calamari in my pussy.

Addicted to Love

You ever have to learn how to jerk off?

I mean actually show you what to do, how to move, what it feels like, hey, that this will feel good so try it?

Didn't think so.

But there's a subset of porn out there where a woman, usually beautiful, sometimes naked, talks to the camera telling you how.

Jerk-off instructions. Here or here.

The payoff seems solely to be that she makes the movement with her hand by her crotch.  You know that sexy pump movement. She talks down to you, "you jerkoff," "you can't help yourself can you?", etc. while stroking that invisible cock in front of her pussy - your cock in your dream. The cock you have and she'll never have and won't let you give her. 

There's a humiliation component to it. She even jerks heself off sometimes, but never do you see her take you in her mouth - she's teasing you, showing you her own pussy and it's all a trick...

...and it's fucking hot.

How is this a thing? I usually want the woman to be into me as much as I'm into her. If you know what I mean. I don't want her to talk down to me or belittle me.  Is there any better boner-killer?

I think it's just an excuse to have some woman talk dirty while making eye contact.

But this subset of porn does tap into the shame of jerking off. We all felt at one time - or maybe just were taught - it was horribly wrong. We might even have been told we were killing kittens and betraying god by putting hand onto cock.

To have a beautiful woman (or your sister, or mom!) go ahead and talk you through it, there's certain transgressive release in that. It's not the same as having her whisper in your ear "yes, more, fuck me" but at least in spite of her humiliating of my pitiful gooning -  she's with the program.

She gets it. You can't help yourself. The simple truth is we're all addicted to jerking off. It feels too good to stop; you're in complete control, you decide how long or how big (or how delayed) your orgasm is, it's not cheating and there's a peaceful zen feeling of getting in touch with your own bad hard self.

Maybe it's a way to remind us - "you fucking jerk off!" - that it has its place. Don't you jerk off when you have no better option?  I watch clips of girls masturbating more than anything else lately - maybe it's a feedback loop - masturbating to masturbating.

It's part educational ("oh, so that's how they do it"), part simple wank material, but also keeps my sexual antenna up.

It gets me horny. Fuels my sexual fantasies which run in my head day and night. Opens me up to possibilities. (No, not to banging impossible tattoo'd plastic babes on the deck; I mean, things like telling her to keep her socks on, or doing it with the window open. Turning her over this way.  Licking along those bumps from the back instead whitewashing the fence.)

I'm not jerking off instead of living a normal healthy sexual relationship with my wife and loved ones. The porn, the minutes or hours I'm in a sexually excited state, so I can fuck her different.

Watching the various and sundry kinks I'm attracted to is exercise.  Eat out more often (use it or lose it).  It kindles my desires and I fairly attack my wife as soon as the kids are in bed.

I don't need some internet bitch to tell me how to jerk off. The construction of these clips ultimately shame you, maybe make you feel better about cumming on yourself and keep you watching their damned clips.

The girls in these instruction videos say they're disgusted by my wanking?

I think she's using that as an excuse to show me her pussy.

* * *

See also: Step mommy's hairy bush jerk-off instruction

Shave Tail

It was 1985 - a couple moons ago - when I saw "Return of the Living Dead" in the theatre. A kind of "punk rock" remake/re-do of the old "Night of the Living Dead" horror franchise.

And what blew my mind, the way it blew all the teenagers' minds at the time, was the sight of
Linnea Quigley's dance on the gravesite as she stripped off. And showed her bald pussy.

I'd never seen a bald pussy before. Not even in porn!  Had anyone? How transgressive, how odd - how fucking sexy.

The common wisdom was that she had to shave in order to get the shot into an R-rated film. For some reason actual pubic hair would have made the shot too explicitly sexual? Like seeing the pussy without hair and therefore more accessible was somehow less of a turn-on?  Fuck, did they even know anything at the ratings board?

Little did we know that shaving was starting to become a thing.  In 1984 there was a tape called Shave Tail that showed in glorious detail women shaving themselves before having sex. With shaving cream on barber chairs; a whole ritual. It was presented as some odd fetish/kink and only later did the tape get a #2, #3, and so on. It had the boyish and lithe Erica Boyer who's eye contact could make my cock stir every time and Cara Lott; a Bruce Seven joint both thrown together haphazardly as was the straight-to-video aesthetic of the day, and precient.

For some reason Shave Tail (the original) is now completely out of print, never made it to DVD and the new versions under the same title are a later, different, less pervy issue.

It was only later that we found out, in some behind-the-scene feature or blog, that Linnea had worn an appliance, that she was not really shaved and it hid the suggestion of a crease between her legs. She wasn't really shaven at the time.

I nevertheless jerked off to this image (and this memory) more than once back in my teen years before the internet ruined everything.

Now goddamn every woman in porn (and seemingly, in real life) has no hair between their legs, a grooming choice I'm not alone in bemoaning.  Even Hugh Hefner doesn't like it and he would know the difference.  Now women with hairy pussies is the fetish.

But the first and powerful illicit idea of a woman going completely smooth, open and clean, still stirs my loins. My own real life and practicality prevents me from pursuing this kink (and seeing if I agree with Mr. Hefner).  The women I've been with all have hair and don't get me wrong, I fucking love it, and my wife tells me shaving is more trouble than it's worth.  Razor burn, lotions that sting, chafing, and you have to keep it up with attention almost every day.

It's all about the image. So I guess I'll keep that illicit desire up here in my head.

Redheads Going Extinct?

The report of redheads going extinct has been greatly exaggerated. Hell, I sure as fucking hope so.

Article here: Weekly World News.

Of course, it's the Weekly World News. But it appeared on my birthday a couple years ago.  The US supposedly is only 2-6% red.  I'm lucky I'm in California where it seems there are more redheads walking around (and here on campus, in shorts and no sleeves (pale arms, pale thighs)). I wish there was an app for that.

It could all be bad science. But just in case, I'm going to do my part by impregnating as many of them as possible.

Are You Being Served?

I went into an adult bookstore for the first time in must be 20 years last week. They've changed. Now that the internet has killed the video (star) they don't even have DVDs or movies.

It's all lingerie, toys and lube.  Leather cuffs and things to put in your vagina. It was easy to walk around and it was better lit than I remember from my teen years.

And the clerk was a 30-something slightly goth girl that was pretty cute, even as this was not an entry level position for her. And no more cracks about positions.  She was clearly confident and could have handled herself if I got out of line.

But I'm notoriously shy when I walk into places like that. I'm not looking for conversation, not even with a pretty girl.

She directed me to the masturbation aids and I made my selection.  She gave me a discount.  And that evening I thought of her while I came into my hand.

Work For Hire

I got an email from a female reader who had been reading the blog about a year and a half ago.  It was an offer.

This was when I was first getting up the nerve and the courage to post an occasional video of me masturbating, couple years ago.  Hell, that was the best illustration of what this blog is about - what turns me on and how it works on my libido.  She was a part-time photographer and enjoyed the fact I was willing to expose myself, not only photographically but emotionally.

She sent one of those casual not-serious invitations, "hey if you ever want to pose for me let me know."

We stayed in touch but since she's in the San Francisco bay area it wasn't really easy to get together. But late last year I was up there to visit friends and I had let her know my schedule. I might be free to meet, even for coffee. This was not a hook-up. Although a boy can dream.

She was free on a Saturday afteroon but she told me she wasn't in sex - she, really, just wanted to photograph me nude. She liked shooting friends nude but always had a hard time finding models.  I'm not the Adonis type but I was willing and that counted for a lot. Her visual style was very spontaneous/ low-lighting/ real-people, without that porn-star tease pout shit.

I said I was game for an hour.

I met her at her apartment and she had a small studio set up in her garage. I was nervous as hell at first, still not convinced this wouldn't turn into something less high-minded. But she was serious.  She did want to see my cock hard, just take some shots for her personal portfolio.

The side window was open to let in some sun and, having seen my videos of my masturbating, she told me to touch myself like that. "Pretend I'm not here. Just enjoy how you feel when you're horny."

I stripped. I asked her if she wanted me to start with underwear on and she said only if I felt comfortable doing that.  So I just took them off.  Soon the exhibitionist in me took over and I got harder as she watched and began to photograph.

She'd seen me naked before. I'd seen her naked (in pix online). I leaned on the foam couch. Against the wall.  I decided to forget she was there and to seduce her hand-held camera.  To see that as my subject, to look into the lens and make eye contact with it. She told me to enjoy myself, to play, not to jerk off - she wasn't interested in pumping-fist. She captured an aroused male, eyes closed, hand on my stomach, cock cradled, light dappling. Legs relaxed.

I playfully offered myself to her but she only smiled. She touched me a couple times to let me know she appreciated me, just testing I guess, even as she said, "No, now..."  The curtain was open but the view across the way didn't face in. She didn't give me a blow-job.

After about 20 minutes of standing, relaxed yet on display, not quite sure what she was getting - or wanting to get - I was getting close to coming.

"I could come," I told her. "I'm pretty hot."   She said, "Okay, but go slow."

I slowly stroked myself, holding my cock with an open palm so I didn't block her view.  As I got closer I went even slower, almost in freeze-frame, until I couldn't stop myself and my ejaculate oozed in thick spurts onto myself without me moving.  The sun came down over me.

She got the shots.  She got a few more.  I asked her if these were going to be anywhere where I could see them but she said, no, they were for her own personal use.

To this day I haven't seen them.  As far as I know she hasn't posted them.

So I'm available for private parties.

Fetish Art

It was the late '70s and Alien just came out. The conceptual artist H. R. Giger did most of the organic and wet design and, in the seductive way in which art eats itself, I was drawn to his urgent paintings and to Brain Salad Surgery to Necronomicon, his coffee-table book.

(That I should have a coffee table that had such attention-getting art in full view.)

As a teen who should not have had access to such imagery it fueled my imagination beyond what my hormones could handle. The objectification - as well as the alienating - aspect of his female figures underlined a dread and disgust that was as attractive as it was messy.  Oils, fluids, bones where flesh should be, metallic clits and phalluses ("phalli"?) that were urgent, potent, painful-looking and fucking hot.

These images and the unspoken - unspeakable! - power of his imagination are still with me.  News of his passing made me remember my uncharted teenage libido.

This is fetish art, hiding behind horror and SF, made mainstream by the film and progressive rock album covers. Giger was not interested in faces, he was interested in texture. That his paintings were in sepia or black and white to hide the realism only made me look closer and longer.

Where Can I Find You On Social?

I've been camming a lot lately. You know, showing my cock on the internet, live, to other people, who invariably, are showing me their cock as well.

Beats jacking off by myself by a mile.

I used to expose myself (figuratively) on this blog at least once a week. Confessing, telling you my deep secrets behind the veil of anonymity.

Without having to face you at work or across the dinner table, I could be honest. Tell you what turned me on. What I had done I may not have been proud of.  What dark kinky thoughts got my dick hard and my motor running.

It was a distinct form of intimacy.  Perhaps I felt I couldn't share such thoughts with most of my closest friends. (Indeed I couldn't.  I was more likely to talk about the latest Transformers movie than what I thought was the best way to suck pussy.)

Here I could tell you how horny I was, hell that I was horny every fucking day. That even though I was faithful to my wife, I still had adulterous thoughts every time a coed walked by in her yoga pants.

I could even show you my dick.

Now I've found a new way to get intimate.  Go on one of a dozen cam sites - Chaturbate, myfreecams, pornhubpersonals (when it works) -while they're watching right now.  There is a certain permanence (as much as the internet can guarantee "permanence") in writing my thoughts, this weekly/month diary that lives on for people to find it. (One of these days I'll tell you which posts are the most popular - it may surprise you.)  But to take down my pants in front of a camera and get hard and start jerking--

--now that's getting intimate with some strangers, and still no need to be cautious.

I get plenty of feedback, "nice cock," "show your face," "shoot on your stomach," etc. and so on. I feel fine showing my face too. I love to watch real people doing themselves. I'm hooked on it. 

The only problem is, it's mostly guys on there.  Hey, we all need attention.  Twitter, Facebook, Tumblr.  Anything to get some traction. Or should I say, friction.

I'm convinced the only people who care about all those cock shots are other guys.

Meet Chicks Online

I think I got a one-a-year average.

I've been here for what, 5 years now?  Pardon the low level of updates in the last year.  Unlike most porn blogs and you've seen them, I'm not just posting links and pictures (that's for tumblr), but actually write about my sexual experiences.

 

(Not an actual fan of RPH; for illustrative purposes only)

I think that's what you like me for, and why the repeat visitors come back.  Thanks, I needed that.  The mail I get (my email is over there in my profile on the right) is very occasional, but tends to be appreciative of me telling the truth, of sharing dark and secret thoughts we don't normally tell in public.

I think I'm one of relatively few males writing in this mode.

About once a year I also get an email from some woman who's been reading and is into me posting personal stories, pix of myself, masturbation fantasies.  3 of them were redheads and reached out to say, "cool that you celebrate your love of redheads."

Well, yes.  One of them (K from the UK) sent me pix of her delicious red pussy to post, because she wanted to be part of the party.

(Don't go looking for them - about a year later she emailed again saying she thought her relatives were searching her computer history; could I please delete them (I didn't call her by name). I respect my readers (especially the naked redheads) and took them down.

Hey, maybe K will send me some more if only for personal use. (The previous ones served that purpose for a while.))

Another girl and I traded hot and heavy sexts for 6 months but we never got it together to go to the next step.  She was up north and I was in LA and starting a job and by the time it might have worked and, you know, look at each other's privates in person, the "romance" had cooled.

Happens.  You girls tease me so.

Lately I was contacted by another fan who found me on pornhub.  I was impressed, searching my username and making her way to this blog.

Another virtual and from-afar "hot and heavy" trading of fantasies, pix and "if only you were closer" has moved into a plan of meeting up during our travels.

We'll see how it plays out. We'll see if it plays out. I guess I'm doing something right, most bloggers never even getting comments, let alone propositions.

It only happens once a year but they're live ones.

I'll keep you posted.  But let me tell you that if I do meet up with her, I'm going to give her the best head of her life.

Tumbling

Via Redbush.

Don't stretch your stockings

Via Anna.

Those of you who follow me on tumblr will know how much I love the pants stretched halfway down the thighs. It has a spontaneous urgency to expose built right in.