Taste

Porn movies work with light and sound, and cannot capture or convey touch, taste, or smell. Yet arguably, vision and hearing are the senses least involved in sex. I do like to see and hear the person I am fucking, but I think that is mainly because seeing and hearing are important to reading their responses, and because it is delightful to see and hear another person's delight. Touch, taste, and smell carry for me a stronger and more direct sexual charge: I am more aroused by sniffing the crotch of a pair of C's panties from the laundry-basket than I am by the sight of her undressing. However wonderful a bloody finger looks after it has been in a bloody cunt, it tastes even better.

Taste and smell are senses that run parallel to each other, and smelling a cunt tells me a lot about how it will taste. A finger dipped in a cunt can be smelled and then tasted, and what is tasted is just what was smelled. Yet there is also discontinuity between them, for tasting requires contact, in some way or another, and so brings in sensations of texture, temperature, touch. D finds the moments when I merely sniff at her cunt, before I extend my tongue to taste her, exquisitely arousing: she knows the touch of my tongue is coming, but not when; meanwhile, I am smelling her, and she knows how much that turns me on. This kind of smelling is quite unlike tasting, and delays it; the delay is itself erotic. The smell of a woman's armpits, if she has avoided deodorant for a while, is also extremely arousing, and tasting her armpits, nibbling at the hairs, sucking on her flesh, is delicious too, and I can play with delay in that case as well.

Q, because she ejaculates, adds an entirely new dimension in terms of taste. When we were together at the Liberty Inn, we conducted an experiment to see if eating asparagus had a noticeable effect on the taste of her come, as it does on the taste of urine. She ate a bunch of asparagus stalks and after a suitable interval, sat on my face. I sucked and licked at her clit and she came copiously in my mouth. I shared the liquid with her, and we agreed: no 'asparagus pee' taste at all. What that shows, I am not sure. But by producing this liquid in such quantities, it is possible to drink from Q, to swallow her, and so to taste her without touching, or at least, without being in contact with her at the moment of tasting. She could position herself over my face, bring herself off, and come in my mouth without there being any contact between us at all.

I love to taste cunts, and envy women who get to suck my cock after I have fucked them: they get to taste themselves on my cock. For similar reasons, I like to taste my own seed leaking out after I have come inside a cunt or an ass (or for that matter, a mouth). Semen - my own anyway - varies a lot both in terms of taste and texture. Sometimes bland, sometimes salty, sometimes frothy, sometimes gritty. From the time that I began masturbating, I have always tasted my come, and very often cleaned up after ejaculation by scooping as much into my mouth as possible. I remember being surprised and incredulous when I first discovered that there were men who had never tasted their own seed, and who thought the idea disgusting. Even odder, that there are men who would not taste their own seed but still want women to swallow it.

Clean assholes have their own taste, which I am also a fan of. The taste of shit I do not seek out, as some people do, but I do not balk at it either. Anal sex is sometimes messy, and going back and forth among ass- and cunt-fucking, cunt-eating, face-sitting, cock-sucking, the mess can get spread around. Whatever comes with sex is sexy, in my view. That principle certainly extends to cover shit and piss, as by-products. But I think this is a different sort of sexiness, one that is derivative rather than, as with seed and cunt-juice, come and sweat, constitutive.

Blood - menstrual blood - is for me in the constitutive category too. I have not had the pleasure of being with Q during a period yet, but I am looking forward to that very much, as she delights in her own body and blood. F loves a bloody fuck, and by now, D is as turned on by period sex as I am. Menstrual blood varies in taste a lot, both from woman to woman, and from one stage of a period to another. It can, I admit, sometimes smell and taste rank or rancid, usually towards the end. But even then, I have no qualms about going down, and I can't imagine why anyone would have any hesitation in fucking. A bloody cunt is one of the most exciting things to taste and to smell, to finger, to fuck. The blood can be smeared on nipples or used as lipstick, and so tasted and retasted. Daubed on thighs or breasts it can be admired, licked off, reapplied.

C no longer menstruates, which saddens me. I think it would sadden her, if she thought about it, but - perhaps sensibly - she does not. As a signal of fertility, menstruation is tied to reproduction, and no doubt that fact is at the root of its erotic power. But what then accounts for the fact that many cultures prohibit or frown upon period sex, that many men and women find the idea repulsive? As usual with evolutionary psychology, its pseudo-explanations have a momentary charm, but dissolve into nothing once serious thinking begins.

[The picture at the head of this post is Louis-Leopold Boilly, Les Cinq Sens (The Five Senses), 1823.]

Red wings

I recently came across this post on CL:

Got your red wings? if so this an ad for you if not just skip - w4m (Lower East Side)

Reply to: pers-XXXXXXXXXX@craigslist.org
Date: 2007-10-13, 5:08PM EDT

ISO Submissive males who earned their wed wings (ever gave oral while chick on the rag?)

I am not sure if the 'w' in 'wed' is intentional or not; I like to think this woman has difficulty with her 'r's, or else is looking for men who do. I did not reply, as the Lower East Side is not my beat, and I am pretty sure this woman falls below my standard minimum age (the use of 'chick' suggests as much, and her AIM name ended in 1983). But if anyone has earned their red wings, I have.

'Red wings' has always seemed an odd expression: why wings? But the Hells Angels, who popularized the term, liked to award wings to themselves, perhaps in mockery of the Air Force, so I suppose we are stuck with it. And it does have the advantage of making the Detroit ice-hockey team the butt of many jokes.

One of the more frustrating aspects of adultery is that, because days pass between assignations, it is not unusual to miss out on the bloody flux entirely, sometimes for several months in a row. Recently, however, I seem to have been lucky: I had a very bloody session with D at the Seton a couple of weeks ago, and just today had a couple of hours with F that left us both daubed in blood, sweat, cunt-juice, and come. A good argument for running several mistresses, then, is that this increases the probability of hooking up with at least one when they are in full flow each month.

The Hells Angels were notoriously sexist way back when, and so going down on a woman during her period was probably more akin to hazing or an initiation ritual than a genuinely sexual act for them (according to Hunter S. Thompson, they gave out black wings for going down on a black woman, and brown wings for ass-fucking). But for me, eating out a woman during her period is a pure pleasure. Sex is about many things, but one is the complete acceptance of the body of the other, and the unreserved offer of one's own body to the other. There can't be days of the week or times of the month when some acts are proscribed; there cannot be some parts or products of the body that are spurned or spat out while the rest are adored. I have no particular urge to try watersports, but I appreciate the impulse behind it, if it is about acceptance rather than humiliation.

The first woman with whom (these 'whoms' are getting everywhere) I had sex during her period was MRR, the one true, deep, abiding passion of my life. Since then I have tried always to persuade women to let me fuck them, go down on them, finger them while menstruating, and it is remarkable how many of these women have never done anything like that before. D had not - and yet now she is especially excited if one of our meetings coincides with the height of her period. F has, I think, been much less squeamish and uncomfortable about her own body, her blood; she took no persuading at all. Of the women I have fucked in the past couple of years, M has perhaps been the best attuned to my way of thinking and feeling, and A the least. A regards her period as a nuisance, and seems to enjoy nothing about it at all. Interestingly, A is the only one of these women whose tubes are tied.

Does getting one's red wings, as a man anyway, indicate some special sensitivity, or nobility? I don't know. College Call girl thinks so:

I’ve never been huge into period sex, although I think dudes who are willing are usually super-cool guys. If you can act like a grown-ass man about the fact that we women bleed of our va-jay-jays once a month, you will make an excellent boyfriend or husband.

You can find the rest of her excellent post on period sex here: Just One of Them Days

Googling 'red wings' still turns up, once you are past the Detroit Red Wings (and adding 'period' as a search term is of little help here, I warn you) plenty of offensive material. Men are jerks. But it is not some major achievement, akin to sainthood, not to be a jerk. Going down on a woman whenever she would enjoy it, and whatever the time of the month: that is just good manners.

Addiction

In the back of the car today, D explained that my offer of a couple of weeks ago to put my cock under her control was classic addictive behavior - looking for an external constraint rather than an internal one. But the offer was not serious: I was stoned, and high on D as well, and of course I didn't mean to grant her control over intra-marital sex anyway, and wouldn't have stopped seeing F. But perhaps it is also classic addictive behavior to look for an external control but nevertheless evade it.

I have complained before about the lazy use of the language of addiction in relation to sex. I know what addiction is like. I smoked for thirty years. I am an alcoholic, or damn close to it. These are chemical dependencies. It is better to reduce the number of cigarettes smoked if you cannot stop altogether, but stopping altogether is the ideal. With alcohol, there is more robust content to the notion of a moderate, sensible user - but still the dominant model of treatment for alcoholism is total abstinence.

Should sex addicts give up sex altogether, and become entirely celibate? No extra- or intra-marital fucking, no porn, no masturbation? The last time I did that, which was a long, long time ago, I had some amazing wet dreams, so there is definitely something to be said for it. The best of those dreams was about SB, a woman I knew in college, and who I still occasionally jerk off thinking about. But what most therapists would set as a goal for me is to contain sex within my marriage. For the unmarried sex addict, the goal would be to establish intimate relationships within which sex is contained, and to have such relationships in series rather than parallel. This is transparently a moral program rather than a medical one. And it makes no real sense if sex addiction is really an addiction.

My behavior is, I admit, quite crazy at times. Going from a night with F to a morning with D at the weekend seemed rather nuts even to me, before I did it. Yet in the event, it was wonderful - a delightful, langorous time with F from midnight to dawn; a little break to shave and shower; then a bloody, spectacular couple of hours with D. The addict supposedly gets diminishing returns from each dose of her drug. My returns from sex seem only to increase. Sex gets better the more you have of it, I have found.

So I have been having more - but not as much more as I would like. A very pleasant, stretched-out fuck with C on Monday morning, that lasted around twenty minutes, including a bout from behind. Two hours of continuous activity with F on Monday afternoon, which really sped by. An hour or so of back-of-the-car sex with D on Tuesday afternoon, with a frantic, ass-pounding finale. I would have had more if I could. But there is more to come. Watch this space.

And on the seventh day . . .

. . no rest. Really, no rest at all, and almost no sleep. I spent from midnight until 6.30 am with F, and almost all of that time was spent fucking or sucking or licking or kissing. In one quieter interlude, we both dozed off for a short while, and F also drifted into sleep with my cock in her mouth, which was charming. Otherwise, we were always doing something or other. I had ultra-caffeinated myself beforehand, but I am sure it was mainly sexual excitement that kept me awake. I got just a tiny bit stoned before arriving, and also nibbled on some Viagra to ensure decent performance in the early going.

This was the longest time F and I have ever spent together, and also the first time we have been together in the hours of darkness. It was really remarkable and wonderful. F has a level of sexual energy, and a capacity to give and receive pleasure, that is exceeded in my experience only by D.

I was home and showered by 7.30, giving me ninety minutes before D picked me up and we headed to the seedy and sleazy Seton, the Liberty Inn having no rooms until after noon. Though the Seton is a total dump, it really does not matter much, and we needed a bed and at least some facilities for clean-up as D was in the full flow of her period. It was a bloodbath, but D was in tremendous form, strong and free, riding my cock through a wave of orgasms at the start. After that we did a little bit of everything, and a lot of some things. Clean-up in the sink afterwards did rather resemble washing-down in the butcher's shop at the end of business, but no-one had been killed or even harmed.

A pain in the ass

Why is anal sex so appealing? And to what extent is its appeal to do with the fact that it is forbidden, and dirty, and difficult (as Candy claims, in a recent comment)? I do not know the answer to these questions in general, or for anyone else. But I am confident about the answers to them in my own case.

Anal sex is appealing because it feels really good. I have admitted elsewhere on this blog that I have, on rare occasions, been uncertain which orifice I occupied. And it has often been true that I am indifferent between cunt and ass - I want my cock in one or the other, and don't mind which. Either feels great, and I can't fuck both (unless I use the strap-on, which I have done once with D). I don't think any of the pleasure I get from fucking D or F in the ass has to do with it being forbidden, or dirty. D had never been fucked in the ass by anyone before me, I remain the only man who has fucked her ass, and there is definitely something pleasing about that fact. If D wanted to give her ass to another man I would be happy for her to do so, but meanwhile I enjoy the fact that I am the only man to have felt her ass grip my cock, to have come in her ass and had my seed leaking out of her as she drove home, to have known her in that way. What here has to do with filth, or the forbidden?

What about the pain, the submission, the subjection? Well, there is no doubt that something of this sort is going on, most of the time. Here I have rather little direct insight; I have been fucked with the strap-on by D on a number of occasions, by A a couple of times, by F just once. In each case, what was so pleasing was being fucked, in the only way that I could be fucked. Whatever pleasures derive from the forbidden in those episodes has little to do with the fact that it is my ass that is being fucked - where else could I be penetrated, after all? - and nothing to do with the category of the unclean. But it is certainly enjoyable to lie back and spread my legs and be fucked hard, to open myself in that way. The pain is sexual pain, or sexualized pain, and there is something very deep and powerful about that. And when I am fucking someone in the ass, and so on the giving rather than the receiving end, I enjoy the subjection, the submission, the sexualized pain.

But none of the pleasure of anal sex for me has to do with either prohibition or disgust. Shit is just shit, an entirely innocent substance, and most of the demonization of shit as a source of contamination is scientific nonsense. Eating shit is certainly healthier than eating hot dogs at Yankee Stadium, for example. Is anal sex especially forbidden? Here the question is, forbidden by whom?

There are a few people who think that all sex is forbidden. The Shakers, for example. There are many who think all sex besides vaginal sex between husband and wife (or wives) is forbidden. Is anal sex between husband and wife more forbidden than vaginal sex between a man and a woman who are not married to each other (and not married to anyone else either)? What about anal sex between two men - and does it matter whether it is between two men who are in husband and wife roles (as so often in prison or the navy) or two men who identify as gay?

When I fuck D in the ass, I do not believe that the pleasure, the delight, the sense of mastery on my part and abandonment on hers, has any thing to do with the opinions of people who, if they knew what we were up to, would disapprove of everything that we do together. People who think ass-fucking is forbidden and filthy mean nothing to me; they do not matter enough to factor into what I desire even inversely. I do not remember when I first stuck a finger up my ass while jerking off, but it was a long, long time ago. It felt good. I have fucked both men and women in the ass, and that has always felt good too. If there is an extra thrill that derives from the fact that people who are opposed to sexual pleasure in general are also opposed to anal sex, it is at most a trivial addition.

Thicker than water

Blood seems to be a theme this week. Z had just begun her period when we were messing around last Friday morning. D began her period during the night we were together at the hotel on Friday, and was in full flow yesterday afternoon at the Kew Motor Inn. Today, F was bleeding hugely, and we had a wonderful time daubing each other with her blood. Towards the end of our time I came all over her, so we then had a wonderful mixture of seed and sweat and blood to ingest. Taking a shower together afterwards the water was running red, and it took a lot of scrubbing to get all the blood out from under my fingernails. Hitchcock used chocolate syrup for the shower scene in Psycho, I think.

C is postmenopausal and so no longer menstruates. I wonder if the near-synchronization of D and F is in part mediated by me. Nuns living in close proximity end up menstruating at the same time; perhaps women who share a lover do so too.

Details from D

D, with her archival instincts to the fore, sent me a recap of what she referred to as 'Our night of X'tasy' - the night described by me in much poorer fashion in the previous post:

I was super excited waiting for you in that hotel room. But I was also anxious, having not heard from you. When you finally called and said you would be there in ten minutes I was so happy. And I think I attacked you soon after you came into the room. Actually I sat on your cock and had my first orgasm... then complained that you were not playing with my nipples . So you gave me my second orgasm, playing with my nipples. I was stoned and I just wanted to feel everything. I was so happy to be naked with you , riding your cock .. bouncing up and down on your naked body. When I am stoned I can feel everything.. my hair against my neck moving... your hands outlining my waist and hips.. my wet cunt gliding up and down your hard, stiff cock, my feet pressed against your strong legs. I feel like my whole body is synchronized with yours in this perfect dance, facilitated by our eyes and our connection. I remember talking about that connection with you , that afternoon. I love that kind of sex talk!

Well... we had this incredible afternoon... and some of it was very active. Lots of deep fucking and thrusting.. there was that simultaneous orgasm where we were just madly fucking and rocking while you were on top. And then the same thing happened after you oiled up my back... well... as you massaged my back I just knew that you would be entering my ass sooner or later. I felt your fingers slipping inside my asshole every now and again. I felt your eyes on my ass. I knew you wanted to open me up with your cock, badly. And as you were deeply rubbing me.. rubbing my back and my spine and my dimples and my ass... I just wanted to show you how much I wanted your cock in my ass. I just kept lifting my ass up trying to show you my asshole and my pussy lips. Every once in awhile you would touch my cunt... almost like your hands just got carried away. It felt like you were teasing me and it was driving me crazy.

When you finally entered me , I remember the oil on my back and ass ... and how it felt rubbing up against your body. I think that is what started the frenzy. I needed you to fuck me hard. I couldn't stop moving about wildly and I liked it when you kept telling me not to move. I do think I needed to be spanked though because I wasn't really listening to you. And I had this fantasy running in my head that I would somehow escape you and you would chase me down in the room and throw me on the bed .. this time holding me down so I can't get away while you pound your cock up my ass and take me. I want to do that .

Oh... let's not forget the handjob, volcanic eruption of your cock. Your cock standing straight up spraying all over the room , gobs and gobs of your come. All over me and all over you. A big mess you made. That was the greatest explosion ever.

We had such an amazing afternoon and really the best sex we had ever had in our lives. So by the time you got back at midnight we were already spent, partially. I know we have done this kind of thing many times before but we really did not have that level of activity and intensity. So we were kind of waiting for this drug to take effect and help us along. But nothing happened so we got stoned. And then from 1 to 5 we fucked and sucked eachother like crazy. My ass... my cunt... your ass... your cock.. I gave you this amazing handjob... and I also remember rubbing your hard cock against my hip for awhile and that was really turning me on. Then we slept, spooned together and woke up two hours later in the exact position. You fucked me and licked my clit and then fucked me in the ass. Then I sat on your face before you left ( I think).

Z, F, D, X, A

C is out of town for two nights. So . . .

I spent a couple of hours in the morning with Z. She was menstruating, so fucking was not on the menu - her decision, as I not only have no objection to bloody fucks but actually really enjoy them. With Z, who does not feel anything much below the waist, everything sexual is strangely shifted and subverted - an extreme case of the difference between one woman and another that interests and excites me. It is frustrating not to be able to fuck because of a squeamishness about menstruation that I do not feel at all. But we had a pleasant enough time kissing and touching each other.

I left Z around noon, and barely thirty minutes later was fucking F in her apartment. F is Z's enantiomorph when it comes to period fucking - the bloodier the better, as far as she is concerned. But she was not on the rag today, and it has in fact been quite a while since I got to enjoy anyone in full flow. We rang the changes on fucking and sucking for ninety minutes, finishing with a solid orgasm and ejaculation for me.

By the time I left F, D had already left a message on my voicemail giving me her room number at a hotel nearby, so I went straight from F to D. It was an intense afternoon of stoned sex. D was already high by the time I arrived, so we began with a wonderful fuck with D stoned and me sober: D riding my cock through a series of orgasms, while I pinched her nipples. I have never been with D when she was high and I was not, so that was interesting. Then I got stoned and went down on her, we fucked again, I fucked her ass, and so on. As usual with D when stoned, we decided it was all the best sex we had ever had - the best fuck with her on top, the best slow fucking, the best face-sitting, etc. I had brought some oil and gave her a massage that morphed into anal. I am unsure how much I came, but I certainly came once in spectacular fashion, when D was giving me an oily handjob and fingering my prostate at the same time, eliciting a fountain of come. Around 5.00 pm I went home.

After midnight I returned to D's hotel and we took some Ecstasy given her by a friend. The night of sex that ensued was surely affected by the X, for we were both extremely dehydrated and a little hyperkinetic. But it was hardly the shattering and amazing experience that is often associated with sex on X. Later in the night we smoked some more pot, and that helped to intensify sensations, but I had more problems maintaining a decent erection than usual. It would, I suppose, be natural to attribute this to my earlier exertions, but I suspect it was more to do with tiredness and the X. So I spent a very long time eating D's cunt and ass. Eventually we slept for a couple of hours, and woke around 7.00 am, for another hour or so of oral, fucking, ass-fucking.

After some sleep, and a lot of coffee, I went at noon to meet A at her sister-in-law's apartment. I was a little tired, so A gave me a blowjob and then sat on my cock and fucked me for a while. Then we changed places and I fucked her - but neither of us quite made it to climax. As always with A, both sex and non-sex were wonderful. We chatted amiably for a while, and then I went home for another nap. But my plan to spend some time after midnight with A came to nothing, thanks to a change of plans by her husband. So the second of my two nights went unused.

Early the next morning, D came by for a drive-by - a bit more than an hour fucking in the back of her car. She had started her period and was very bloody, and we had an excellent time.

Too busy fucking to blog

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