My job has unexpectedly called me Far Away From Keyboard for quite a few days. As I do not expect to be able to write porn while traveling, consider this blog on hiatus till July 2nd. I suspect I will have e-mail but odds are I will not be having any meaningful correspondence while working hard on the things I work on.
Don't consider this a sabbatical or a break. Consider this post as a warning. I will come back horny, eager to write and ready to burst with porn. I will be like a pirate lost on at sea for three years who gets picked up by a floating brothel. There's no telling what Otto will have cooked up in that time, so just be ready.
Be good to each other.
.JPG)
Thursday, June 21, 2007
Wednesday, June 20, 2007
Desktop
Bent over my desk, dirty Ashley clutches her glasses and panties.
Bent over my desk, the scandalous Ashley reaches for the corner so she can hold on.
Bending over my desk was the dirty little slut's own idea.
Tuesday, June 19, 2007
Important Non Sequitur Announcement
Johnette Napolitano's new album, Scarred, seduces your ears, fucks your brain and then leaves shattered fragments of your soul lying around like discarded underwear. Listening to this CD was like making love to an old girlfriend and realizing that not only was it as good as you remembered, it was better.
Concrete Blonde was a band that tried to tell me about the hazards of love but I was too young to appreciate the wisdom of what they were telling me. I was too much in love with the music and the raw intensity of Johnette's voice. It wasn't till years later that I understand why people will always love a Joey, how special it is to be true, how much disappointment there is to still be in Hollywood and how easy the promises we make are as easy to break as the plastic people on the wedding cake.
Thank you Johnette for making more beautiful music.
Concrete Blonde was a band that tried to tell me about the hazards of love but I was too young to appreciate the wisdom of what they were telling me. I was too much in love with the music and the raw intensity of Johnette's voice. It wasn't till years later that I understand why people will always love a Joey, how special it is to be true, how much disappointment there is to still be in Hollywood and how easy the promises we make are as easy to break as the plastic people on the wedding cake.
Thank you Johnette for making more beautiful music.
Monday, June 18, 2007
Fiction: Visionary
“Dr. Amberg, what color are your panties this morning?”
Dr. Janet Amberg looked up from her computer. She was about to unleash a stream of verbal abuse on the asshole who asked that question, but the asshole appeared to be her boss. Otto Von Madd looked down at her through those silly goggles he was wearing all the time now. The lenses were a deep purple, which reminded Janet of head shops and stoned hippies. She didn’t think it was a flattering look for what could possibly be the smartest man she had ever met. Brilliant or not, he had still asked an inappropriate question.
“Dr. Madd …” Janet started, but he interrupted her.
“It’s Dr. Von Madd,” he snapped. “And answer the question, Dr. Amberg. What color panties are you wearing at this very moment?”
“Dr. Von Madd, I do not think that is the sort of question you should ask,” Janet said. “I could bring you up on sexual harassment charges.”
Otto sighed. It reminded Janet of when her sister had to explain to her niece such simple facts as that the sun would come up tomorrow. It was the sigh of a man who had very deliberately chosen not to be a teacher.
“Dr. Amberg, you will find that clause 69 in your contract explains that due to the sexual nature of our research, sexual harassment not only is permissible but will in the course of your employment sometimes be required. Now, please answer the simple question I asked you, in the name of science, or I may be forced to not only reassess how intelligent you are but also reassign you to the Sexual-Organ-Flavored Gum Testing Department.”
Janet thought about it. “I believe they are green, Dr. Von Madd.”
Otto squinted at her lap. Janet looked down and saw only her pants.
“You think? Are you not sure, Dr. Amberg?” Otto said. “Damn it, find out for sure before you report a result.”
Janet nodded and stood up. Otto’s eyes never left her crotch. She thought about turning around, but she was afraid to anger her boss even further. Her fingers went to unbutton her pants, but Otto raised his hand.
“Look, but don’t show me,” he said.
She pulled at her waistband and looked down. “Yes, green. There are green, Dr. Von Madd.”
Otto sighed. He touched the side of his goggles, and the lens appeared to ripple. The purple was a darker shade now.
“Dark green or very light, it’s-not-easy-being-green green, Dr. Amberg?” he asked.
“Uh, light green,” she said.
He touched the other side of his goggles, and the purples lenses rippled again. “And is there a lace border?”
Janet nodded. “Wait, how did you kn—?”
“Thank you, Dr. Amberg,” Otto said. “I’ve almost perfected the Nude-View Glasses, but they still need some fine tuning.”
Her face turned bright red. “You can see me in my underwear?”
Otto nodded. “Yes, Dr. Amberg. I would have never have guessed you were wearing a push-up bra. That is a very good job of concealing your lack of endowment, though I must say that your breasts are lovely the size they are.”
Janet folded her arms over her chest, but Otto Von Madd was looking down at her crotch again. He kept talking as he made more adjustments to the goggles.
“It’s quite simple, actually. The X-ray glasses I made in high school barely worked and might have caused a few cases of cancer. What I discovered recently was a way to see the bioelectric energy all living things create and then analyze the data for the amount of resistance clothes would generate. Did you know that different colors of cloth create different levels of resistance? By compensating for these resistances, I have created lenses that can see nude skin or be tempered to allow for various layers. I believe in a few more weeks, I’ll be able to switch between underwear-view and naked-view with a single adjustment.”
Dr. Janet Amberg suddenly felt very naked under her clothes.
Dr. Janet Amberg looked up from her computer. She was about to unleash a stream of verbal abuse on the asshole who asked that question, but the asshole appeared to be her boss. Otto Von Madd looked down at her through those silly goggles he was wearing all the time now. The lenses were a deep purple, which reminded Janet of head shops and stoned hippies. She didn’t think it was a flattering look for what could possibly be the smartest man she had ever met. Brilliant or not, he had still asked an inappropriate question.
“Dr. Madd …” Janet started, but he interrupted her.
“It’s Dr. Von Madd,” he snapped. “And answer the question, Dr. Amberg. What color panties are you wearing at this very moment?”
“Dr. Von Madd, I do not think that is the sort of question you should ask,” Janet said. “I could bring you up on sexual harassment charges.”
Otto sighed. It reminded Janet of when her sister had to explain to her niece such simple facts as that the sun would come up tomorrow. It was the sigh of a man who had very deliberately chosen not to be a teacher.
“Dr. Amberg, you will find that clause 69 in your contract explains that due to the sexual nature of our research, sexual harassment not only is permissible but will in the course of your employment sometimes be required. Now, please answer the simple question I asked you, in the name of science, or I may be forced to not only reassess how intelligent you are but also reassign you to the Sexual-Organ-Flavored Gum Testing Department.”
Janet thought about it. “I believe they are green, Dr. Von Madd.”
Otto squinted at her lap. Janet looked down and saw only her pants.
“You think? Are you not sure, Dr. Amberg?” Otto said. “Damn it, find out for sure before you report a result.”
Janet nodded and stood up. Otto’s eyes never left her crotch. She thought about turning around, but she was afraid to anger her boss even further. Her fingers went to unbutton her pants, but Otto raised his hand.
“Look, but don’t show me,” he said.
She pulled at her waistband and looked down. “Yes, green. There are green, Dr. Von Madd.”
Otto sighed. He touched the side of his goggles, and the lens appeared to ripple. The purple was a darker shade now.
“Dark green or very light, it’s-not-easy-being-green green, Dr. Amberg?” he asked.
“Uh, light green,” she said.
He touched the other side of his goggles, and the purples lenses rippled again. “And is there a lace border?”
Janet nodded. “Wait, how did you kn—?”
“Thank you, Dr. Amberg,” Otto said. “I’ve almost perfected the Nude-View Glasses, but they still need some fine tuning.”
Her face turned bright red. “You can see me in my underwear?”
Otto nodded. “Yes, Dr. Amberg. I would have never have guessed you were wearing a push-up bra. That is a very good job of concealing your lack of endowment, though I must say that your breasts are lovely the size they are.”
Janet folded her arms over her chest, but Otto Von Madd was looking down at her crotch again. He kept talking as he made more adjustments to the goggles.
“It’s quite simple, actually. The X-ray glasses I made in high school barely worked and might have caused a few cases of cancer. What I discovered recently was a way to see the bioelectric energy all living things create and then analyze the data for the amount of resistance clothes would generate. Did you know that different colors of cloth create different levels of resistance? By compensating for these resistances, I have created lenses that can see nude skin or be tempered to allow for various layers. I believe in a few more weeks, I’ll be able to switch between underwear-view and naked-view with a single adjustment.”
Dr. Janet Amberg suddenly felt very naked under her clothes.
Friday, June 15, 2007
Fiction: Laboratory Discipline
Katie Delman bent over the bench. Metal restraints snaked around her ankles and wrists, constricting till she was secured to the punishment bench. Pneumatic hinges hissed as her bare ass was lifted higher than the rest of her body. A gloved hand griped her long brown hair and lifted her head up. She could see the crowd of assembled coworkers in their white lab coats.
"Say it!" demanded her boss.
"I am a dirty M.I.T. graduate slut who should have finished my final paperwork for the new Robot Cock project!"
A swish of air was her only warning as the cane came down on her ass. Aerodynamically designed to build inertia during a swing, the Nue-Rattan Cane, version 1.4, struck her round ass like a bee sting. A line of pain instantly formed across both buttocks and thanks to new improvements in the 1.4 model, that line was guaranteed to not fade for at least forty-eight hours.
Katie shrieked from the pain, but then moaned from the sensation she was feeling between her thighs. She was wet. She couldn't beleive it. She was being turned on by public humiliation and direct painful stimulus to her ass? Katie Delman would have never had guessed that this sort of thing would appeal to her, but then, she hadn't read the results of the very comprehensive Von Madd Employee Interview Form she had filled out.
"Say it!" said Otto Von Madd, her boss and owner of the Erotic Sciences research laboratory.
"I am a dirty M.I.T. graduate slut who should have finished my final paperwork for the new Robot Cock project!"
The cane came down again. Pain was followed by arousal and then shame which generated more arousal. Katie moaned while her coworkers looked on.
Katie knew this was going to be the best reprimand ever.
"Say it!" demanded her boss.
"I am a dirty M.I.T. graduate slut who should have finished my final paperwork for the new Robot Cock project!"
A swish of air was her only warning as the cane came down on her ass. Aerodynamically designed to build inertia during a swing, the Nue-Rattan Cane, version 1.4, struck her round ass like a bee sting. A line of pain instantly formed across both buttocks and thanks to new improvements in the 1.4 model, that line was guaranteed to not fade for at least forty-eight hours.
Katie shrieked from the pain, but then moaned from the sensation she was feeling between her thighs. She was wet. She couldn't beleive it. She was being turned on by public humiliation and direct painful stimulus to her ass? Katie Delman would have never had guessed that this sort of thing would appeal to her, but then, she hadn't read the results of the very comprehensive Von Madd Employee Interview Form she had filled out.
"Say it!" said Otto Von Madd, her boss and owner of the Erotic Sciences research laboratory.
"I am a dirty M.I.T. graduate slut who should have finished my final paperwork for the new Robot Cock project!"
The cane came down again. Pain was followed by arousal and then shame which generated more arousal. Katie moaned while her coworkers looked on.
Katie knew this was going to be the best reprimand ever.
Thursday, June 14, 2007
Wednesday, June 13, 2007
Fiction: Project 'Don't Stand'
Debra Moore was having a terrible time of focusing. She looked at her carefully written speech and couldn’t quite read what she had spent all summer composing. For some reason she was thinking of the first time she had let a boy kiss her breast. She could almost smell the boy’s scent: a mix of sweat and the beach. It was over twenty years ago but she could clearly remember how gentle his teeth were as they bit down on her.
“Are you cold Professor Moore?” Otto asked. “You seem to be shivering.”
Professor Moore awoke from her daydream with a startle. She had been shivering, but with pleasure not cold. The dampness between her legs was proof of that. The Professor had a strange feeling that this was going to be the strangest student advisor meeting she will ever have.
To read more, click Whole Post
“Just a little chilly, Otto,” Professor Moore lied. “I hope you had a relaxing summer?”
Otto Von Madd smiled and for reasons Professor Moore couldn’t understand, she felt her cunt clench with desire. The summer had been good for him she thought. He had a tan for the first time in the two years that she had known him. The student’s baby face was covered with a stylish brown goatee that suited him and made him look more adult. His body had the wiry lithe muscles of a surfer. His choice of clothes was a little odd but it worked for him. Vivid red and purple accents swirled on his shirt in an almost hypnotic pattern. The biggest change was how he carried himself. He sat a little taller and seemed more at ease than he had ever been before.
“My summer was educational,” Otto said. “Did some research and pursued a few side interests.”
Professor Moore nodded. “And I hope you spent some time deciding on a major?”
Well,” Otto said. He looked embarrassed, and for a brief moment he resembled the awkward boy genius he was when he first came to college.
“Look Otto,” she began, repeating the speech she had prepared all summer, “the Von Madd family name is a lot to live up to and you have my fullest sympathy. Your father’s work at NASA will allow us to send robot probes to Mars within the next decade. Your grandmother’s innovations in medicine have given us the artificial heart. Von Madd’s have been changing the world with their brilliance for centuries. I fully appreciate how much pressure that must be for a young man like yourself.”
Professor Moore paused in her speech. Inexplicably she had a sudden desire to be bent over her desk and fucked. She wanted a nice cock to slip inside her while she held onto the edges of the desk. It was an old fantasy of hers, but certainly not something appropriate for thinking about now.
“I am glad you understand how much pressure that is,” Otto said. “I sometimes feel that 19 is far too young for a university to demand that a person know what he wants to do with his life.”
Professor Moore pushed her glasses back up her nose. She realized she was sweating. Not know what was going on with her body, she chose to focus on Otto. Oddly that just made her wetter.
“Otto, picking a major does not mean you are locked into a career path for the rest of your life. Think of it as simply picking a focus for the next five or ten years with the option to choose another direction later. It’s past time you committed your academic gifts to a course of study that can be of benefit to society as well as yourself.”
Professor Moore waited to see what effect these words had on the young man. In the few seconds of silence, her traitorous mind thought of her own days as a college student and that wild night she had sex with two frat brothers. She could recall the way their seed tasted on her tongue just as clearly as she could still taste what she had for breakfast this morning.
“Professor Moore,” Otto said. “This summer I did decide where to use my academic gifts as you so kindly called them.”
She swallowed hard, trying to suppress the memory of semen. “You have? That’s wonderful. What did you decide?”
Otto Von Madd leaned forward in his chair. Deep blue eyes the color of denim focused on her as if Otto was the first person in the world to truly see her. His hands touched the edges of Professor Moore’s desk and a shiver went down her spine and straight to her thighs. She became vividly aware of how good he smelled.
“Professor Moore, I decided on you,” Otto said.
A moan escaped her lips.
“It started as a crush,” Otto said. “I mean, you’re an intelligent older woman who has written quite a few fascinating papers on thermodynamics. You have long black hair that still shines like a summer night sky. You have glasses, not contacts, because you know glasses are a sign of intellect. Your southern accent is something I could listen to all day. And although I have never seen them personally, I just know your breasts are beautiful because they strain against every blouse you ever wear.”
“Otto, this is highly inappropriate . . .” Professor Moore said before her brain failed her. She had a sudden desire to bare her breasts so that he could appreciate them in all their glory.
He smiled and stood up. Otto walked around her desk very slowly and to Professor Moore’s wet pussy, he seemed to walk entirely too slow. He stood next to her. All he did was stand there and it was all she could do not to rip his pants open.
“But,” Otto continued, “I knew you would never seek a relationship with me. Your ethical standards are too high. My own attractiveness did not appeal to you. I used to write a lot of sad poetry about the subject but this summer, something happened. I decided to have you. I decided that if I was so smart, why couldn’t I figure out a way to fuck you?”
Professor Moore unfastened a button on her blouse. She opened another button and another and another till her white bra was exposed to him. Her fingers had bared her chest to him before her mind had a chance to question what she was doing. Instead of covering back up, she regretted not wearing a sexier bra today.
“What did you do?” she asked.
“Research,” Otto said. “I gathered data. I traced your career and conducted interviews. I talked to the men who were your first lovers. I visited the places where you most likely to develop your sexual identity. I studied the time period you grew up in and made calculated guesses as to what most influenced your libido.”
“All you did was research?” Professor Moore asked. She moaned as he placed a hand on her bra covered breast. His fingers pinched against her nipple.
“Oh no,” Otto said. “Then I applied it. I grew the right kind of facial hair most likely to make you see me as an adult. I worked out till I had the same physical attributes as your first lovers. I designed cologne specifically tailored for your olfactory libido memory. This shirt contains several subliminal images that remind your subconscious of sex symbols of your adolescence. Right now, everything about me is making your body think about sex.”
She reached for his pants. Her fingers unfastened his button but froze on the zipper. The bulge in his pants throbbed and Professor Moore felt a powerful need to see his cock.
“Are you controlling me?” she asked.
Otto shook his head. “I invented several ways incidentally, but no, I am not. I merely figured out how to best stimulate your mental and physical sexual triggers. Right now you are in a heightened state of arousal. What you choose to do about it is up to you. All I did was make myself attractive to you using the scientific method and some advances in psycho-erogenous techniques.”
“When you think about it, Professor Moore, I mean Debra, what I did was make you my major. I applied my intelligence to the subject of fucking you. Aren’t you curious to see if my research works?”
She ripped his pants open. His cock was waiting for her, tucked inside loose boxers like she preferred. Professor Moore took his cock into her mouth and she felt a deep satisfaction wash over her. This was what her body was aching for. It was wrong to be sucking a student but that only made her more excited. In the back of her mind, she wondered if this too had been calculated.
Professor Moore sucked cock with a passion she hadn’t felt in years. She could taste the youth on him. His cock throbbed in her mouth and she savored every pulse. The way Otto groaned made Professor Moore feel like the sexiest woman alive. No one appreciates a cock sucking like a young man with a crush, and Professor Moore forgot just how intoxicating that kind of adoration could be.
She moaned when Otto pulled out of her mouth. She reached for his cock but he pushed her back. Before she could complain, he dropped down and pulled her breasts out from her bra. Electricity shot through her as his mouth sealed over her nipple.
“He knows,” Professor Moore thought to herself in a blissful haze. He did everything right. He flicked his tongue and then slowly bit down. He pulled his teeth over her nipple, grazing her with the sharpness of his teeth before soothing her nipple with long licks of his tongue. She could almost hear the beach as Otto sucked and bit her nipples the exact same way that beautiful boy on the beach had done years ago. Professor Moore moaned and whimpered as her breasts were worshipped in that way she learned to crave.
“Stand up,” Otto said. She didn’t quite hear him at first because he still had a nipple in his mouth. On shaky legs she rose up, and then squealed with delight as he bent her over her own desk. He pulled her slacks down quickly and her panties down slowly. She waited as she heard the sound of a condom being slid over his cock.
Smart people always use protection.
Professor Moore was penetrated on her desk from behind. It was the greatest of guilty pleasures. It was something she had wanted to do but never had. Somehow Otto had figured it out and was now helping her fulfill her own greatest unspoken fantasy. As he pounded into her, she wondered how his research had revealed this side of her. Part of her hoped it had nothing to do research at all; that it was just a desire on Otto’s part to fuck her on her desk.
The desk shook from their fucking. Professor Moore stopped thinking about research, majors, students, colleges and anything else that didn’t have to do with the wonderful feeling of a cock sliding into her. In her mind she ceased being a professor and she became simply Debra again. Thirty minutes later she was nothing but a woman being fucked. Her hands gripped the edges of her desk while Otto slammed into her with the enthusiasm and vigor that only a 19 year old had. It wasn’t fancy sex but it was the sex she wanted and that was all that really mattered. Well, that and the long chain of wonderful orgasms.
When Otto came, his hands gripped her hips like he never wanted to let her go. She purred as he ground against her, trying to empty every drop of himself inside his condom. He settled his weight against her as he relaxed on her back. His cock was still inside her as his body covered her like a blanket.
“That was amazing,” Debra said.
Otto bit her shoulder in that special place that made her shudder.
“You know,” Otto said. “I think I really do know what I want my major to be.”
Some remaining shred of Debra’s professionalism rose to the surface. “You mean a real major, and not just fucking me?”
Otto bit her shoulder in that special place that made her hips grind. “Well, fucking you is something I intend to keep doing but this was in part a demonstration for what I want my major to be.”
“You want to fuck other teachers?” Debra asked.
“No, I was thinking of majoring in Erotic Science,” Otto said. “I had to invent most of the techniques I used on you. It seems to be that the science of sex is very lacking and could use some serious attention.”
“There is no such thing as a degree in Erotic Science,” Professor Moore said. Although he was still inside her, her more logical mind was resuming control. She knew what she said was true, but she was already considering the possibilities and potential in Otto’s future. Her sated sweaty body was proof of that.
Otto didn’t seem discouraged. His cock began to harden within her.
“I guess I’ll just have to keep fucking the right teachers till they make one.”
“Are you cold Professor Moore?” Otto asked. “You seem to be shivering.”
Professor Moore awoke from her daydream with a startle. She had been shivering, but with pleasure not cold. The dampness between her legs was proof of that. The Professor had a strange feeling that this was going to be the strangest student advisor meeting she will ever have.
To read more, click Whole Post
“Just a little chilly, Otto,” Professor Moore lied. “I hope you had a relaxing summer?”
Otto Von Madd smiled and for reasons Professor Moore couldn’t understand, she felt her cunt clench with desire. The summer had been good for him she thought. He had a tan for the first time in the two years that she had known him. The student’s baby face was covered with a stylish brown goatee that suited him and made him look more adult. His body had the wiry lithe muscles of a surfer. His choice of clothes was a little odd but it worked for him. Vivid red and purple accents swirled on his shirt in an almost hypnotic pattern. The biggest change was how he carried himself. He sat a little taller and seemed more at ease than he had ever been before.
“My summer was educational,” Otto said. “Did some research and pursued a few side interests.”
Professor Moore nodded. “And I hope you spent some time deciding on a major?”
Well,” Otto said. He looked embarrassed, and for a brief moment he resembled the awkward boy genius he was when he first came to college.
“Look Otto,” she began, repeating the speech she had prepared all summer, “the Von Madd family name is a lot to live up to and you have my fullest sympathy. Your father’s work at NASA will allow us to send robot probes to Mars within the next decade. Your grandmother’s innovations in medicine have given us the artificial heart. Von Madd’s have been changing the world with their brilliance for centuries. I fully appreciate how much pressure that must be for a young man like yourself.”
Professor Moore paused in her speech. Inexplicably she had a sudden desire to be bent over her desk and fucked. She wanted a nice cock to slip inside her while she held onto the edges of the desk. It was an old fantasy of hers, but certainly not something appropriate for thinking about now.
“I am glad you understand how much pressure that is,” Otto said. “I sometimes feel that 19 is far too young for a university to demand that a person know what he wants to do with his life.”
Professor Moore pushed her glasses back up her nose. She realized she was sweating. Not know what was going on with her body, she chose to focus on Otto. Oddly that just made her wetter.
“Otto, picking a major does not mean you are locked into a career path for the rest of your life. Think of it as simply picking a focus for the next five or ten years with the option to choose another direction later. It’s past time you committed your academic gifts to a course of study that can be of benefit to society as well as yourself.”
Professor Moore waited to see what effect these words had on the young man. In the few seconds of silence, her traitorous mind thought of her own days as a college student and that wild night she had sex with two frat brothers. She could recall the way their seed tasted on her tongue just as clearly as she could still taste what she had for breakfast this morning.
“Professor Moore,” Otto said. “This summer I did decide where to use my academic gifts as you so kindly called them.”
She swallowed hard, trying to suppress the memory of semen. “You have? That’s wonderful. What did you decide?”
Otto Von Madd leaned forward in his chair. Deep blue eyes the color of denim focused on her as if Otto was the first person in the world to truly see her. His hands touched the edges of Professor Moore’s desk and a shiver went down her spine and straight to her thighs. She became vividly aware of how good he smelled.
“Professor Moore, I decided on you,” Otto said.
A moan escaped her lips.
“It started as a crush,” Otto said. “I mean, you’re an intelligent older woman who has written quite a few fascinating papers on thermodynamics. You have long black hair that still shines like a summer night sky. You have glasses, not contacts, because you know glasses are a sign of intellect. Your southern accent is something I could listen to all day. And although I have never seen them personally, I just know your breasts are beautiful because they strain against every blouse you ever wear.”
“Otto, this is highly inappropriate . . .” Professor Moore said before her brain failed her. She had a sudden desire to bare her breasts so that he could appreciate them in all their glory.
He smiled and stood up. Otto walked around her desk very slowly and to Professor Moore’s wet pussy, he seemed to walk entirely too slow. He stood next to her. All he did was stand there and it was all she could do not to rip his pants open.
“But,” Otto continued, “I knew you would never seek a relationship with me. Your ethical standards are too high. My own attractiveness did not appeal to you. I used to write a lot of sad poetry about the subject but this summer, something happened. I decided to have you. I decided that if I was so smart, why couldn’t I figure out a way to fuck you?”
Professor Moore unfastened a button on her blouse. She opened another button and another and another till her white bra was exposed to him. Her fingers had bared her chest to him before her mind had a chance to question what she was doing. Instead of covering back up, she regretted not wearing a sexier bra today.
“What did you do?” she asked.
“Research,” Otto said. “I gathered data. I traced your career and conducted interviews. I talked to the men who were your first lovers. I visited the places where you most likely to develop your sexual identity. I studied the time period you grew up in and made calculated guesses as to what most influenced your libido.”
“All you did was research?” Professor Moore asked. She moaned as he placed a hand on her bra covered breast. His fingers pinched against her nipple.
“Oh no,” Otto said. “Then I applied it. I grew the right kind of facial hair most likely to make you see me as an adult. I worked out till I had the same physical attributes as your first lovers. I designed cologne specifically tailored for your olfactory libido memory. This shirt contains several subliminal images that remind your subconscious of sex symbols of your adolescence. Right now, everything about me is making your body think about sex.”
She reached for his pants. Her fingers unfastened his button but froze on the zipper. The bulge in his pants throbbed and Professor Moore felt a powerful need to see his cock.
“Are you controlling me?” she asked.
Otto shook his head. “I invented several ways incidentally, but no, I am not. I merely figured out how to best stimulate your mental and physical sexual triggers. Right now you are in a heightened state of arousal. What you choose to do about it is up to you. All I did was make myself attractive to you using the scientific method and some advances in psycho-erogenous techniques.”
“When you think about it, Professor Moore, I mean Debra, what I did was make you my major. I applied my intelligence to the subject of fucking you. Aren’t you curious to see if my research works?”
She ripped his pants open. His cock was waiting for her, tucked inside loose boxers like she preferred. Professor Moore took his cock into her mouth and she felt a deep satisfaction wash over her. This was what her body was aching for. It was wrong to be sucking a student but that only made her more excited. In the back of her mind, she wondered if this too had been calculated.
Professor Moore sucked cock with a passion she hadn’t felt in years. She could taste the youth on him. His cock throbbed in her mouth and she savored every pulse. The way Otto groaned made Professor Moore feel like the sexiest woman alive. No one appreciates a cock sucking like a young man with a crush, and Professor Moore forgot just how intoxicating that kind of adoration could be.
She moaned when Otto pulled out of her mouth. She reached for his cock but he pushed her back. Before she could complain, he dropped down and pulled her breasts out from her bra. Electricity shot through her as his mouth sealed over her nipple.
“He knows,” Professor Moore thought to herself in a blissful haze. He did everything right. He flicked his tongue and then slowly bit down. He pulled his teeth over her nipple, grazing her with the sharpness of his teeth before soothing her nipple with long licks of his tongue. She could almost hear the beach as Otto sucked and bit her nipples the exact same way that beautiful boy on the beach had done years ago. Professor Moore moaned and whimpered as her breasts were worshipped in that way she learned to crave.
“Stand up,” Otto said. She didn’t quite hear him at first because he still had a nipple in his mouth. On shaky legs she rose up, and then squealed with delight as he bent her over her own desk. He pulled her slacks down quickly and her panties down slowly. She waited as she heard the sound of a condom being slid over his cock.
Smart people always use protection.
Professor Moore was penetrated on her desk from behind. It was the greatest of guilty pleasures. It was something she had wanted to do but never had. Somehow Otto had figured it out and was now helping her fulfill her own greatest unspoken fantasy. As he pounded into her, she wondered how his research had revealed this side of her. Part of her hoped it had nothing to do research at all; that it was just a desire on Otto’s part to fuck her on her desk.
The desk shook from their fucking. Professor Moore stopped thinking about research, majors, students, colleges and anything else that didn’t have to do with the wonderful feeling of a cock sliding into her. In her mind she ceased being a professor and she became simply Debra again. Thirty minutes later she was nothing but a woman being fucked. Her hands gripped the edges of her desk while Otto slammed into her with the enthusiasm and vigor that only a 19 year old had. It wasn’t fancy sex but it was the sex she wanted and that was all that really mattered. Well, that and the long chain of wonderful orgasms.
When Otto came, his hands gripped her hips like he never wanted to let her go. She purred as he ground against her, trying to empty every drop of himself inside his condom. He settled his weight against her as he relaxed on her back. His cock was still inside her as his body covered her like a blanket.
“That was amazing,” Debra said.
Otto bit her shoulder in that special place that made her shudder.
“You know,” Otto said. “I think I really do know what I want my major to be.”
Some remaining shred of Debra’s professionalism rose to the surface. “You mean a real major, and not just fucking me?”
Otto bit her shoulder in that special place that made her hips grind. “Well, fucking you is something I intend to keep doing but this was in part a demonstration for what I want my major to be.”
“You want to fuck other teachers?” Debra asked.
“No, I was thinking of majoring in Erotic Science,” Otto said. “I had to invent most of the techniques I used on you. It seems to be that the science of sex is very lacking and could use some serious attention.”
“There is no such thing as a degree in Erotic Science,” Professor Moore said. Although he was still inside her, her more logical mind was resuming control. She knew what she said was true, but she was already considering the possibilities and potential in Otto’s future. Her sated sweaty body was proof of that.
Otto didn’t seem discouraged. His cock began to harden within her.
“I guess I’ll just have to keep fucking the right teachers till they make one.”
Tuesday, June 12, 2007
Flattery
The other day I came across one of my Peeps pictures on another blog. They had credited me and linked back to me, which was nice, but what was really flattering was that they were using the image as part of their own creative post. It was a strange feeling of success: I had created an image that other people wanted on their site. It was a little mind-blowing.
It also made me realize that if the blogger wasn't ethical, they could have very easily claimed the picture as their own. I don't have any copyright tags on my images, not that those can't be removed with most paint programs. I have never aggressively defended my work before so I am not sure why I now feel this urge to at least put a stamp on my pictures.
Maybe it's because when it comes to my writing, I have confidence in the uniqueness of my voice. Any time my writing group would have an anonymous submission contest, people had no trouble identifying my story out of the group. Not all of my stories are terribly original but I like to think the way I tell a story is all my own.
When it comes to pictures, I'm still trying to find my voice. Right now my images feel more like echoes of my own desires. I like boobs, therefore I take pictures of boobs. I like someone else's concept, therefore I try my hand at recreating it with my own preferences. Theoretically that should mean my pictures are uniquely my own but right now they feel like something I have reacted to rather than created. At this point the only thing that feels uniquely mine about my pictures is the mistakes I make with lighting.
So if/when I make a little copyright stamp for my images, what should I use? Shon Richards? Erotiterrorist? Some funky symbol?
It also made me realize that if the blogger wasn't ethical, they could have very easily claimed the picture as their own. I don't have any copyright tags on my images, not that those can't be removed with most paint programs. I have never aggressively defended my work before so I am not sure why I now feel this urge to at least put a stamp on my pictures.
Maybe it's because when it comes to my writing, I have confidence in the uniqueness of my voice. Any time my writing group would have an anonymous submission contest, people had no trouble identifying my story out of the group. Not all of my stories are terribly original but I like to think the way I tell a story is all my own.
When it comes to pictures, I'm still trying to find my voice. Right now my images feel more like echoes of my own desires. I like boobs, therefore I take pictures of boobs. I like someone else's concept, therefore I try my hand at recreating it with my own preferences. Theoretically that should mean my pictures are uniquely my own but right now they feel like something I have reacted to rather than created. At this point the only thing that feels uniquely mine about my pictures is the mistakes I make with lighting.
So if/when I make a little copyright stamp for my images, what should I use? Shon Richards? Erotiterrorist? Some funky symbol?
Monday, June 11, 2007
Regarding the 'Gay Bomb'
I've been overwhelmed with interview requests after it was discovered that the United states Air Force wanted to build a Gay Bomb No, I'm not making this up.
"The Ohio Air Force lab proposed that a bomb be developed that contained a chemical that would cause enemy soldiers to become gay, and to have their units break down because all their soldiers became irresistibly attractive to one another," Hammond said after reviewing the documents.
I would just like to state although I am an Erotiterrorist, I have never been involved with the making of the Gay Bomb. If anything, it is my professional opinion that an all gay military force would be kick-ass. They would watch each others backs, avenge their fallen lovers and be really really buff. Wasn't that the point of 300?
So just to be sure everyone is clear, I have never been involved in the making of a Gay Bomb.
As for trying to make a 'Everyone Get Horny and Naked Bomb', I currently have no comment.
"The Ohio Air Force lab proposed that a bomb be developed that contained a chemical that would cause enemy soldiers to become gay, and to have their units break down because all their soldiers became irresistibly attractive to one another," Hammond said after reviewing the documents.
I would just like to state although I am an Erotiterrorist, I have never been involved with the making of the Gay Bomb. If anything, it is my professional opinion that an all gay military force would be kick-ass. They would watch each others backs, avenge their fallen lovers and be really really buff. Wasn't that the point of 300?
So just to be sure everyone is clear, I have never been involved in the making of a Gay Bomb.
As for trying to make a 'Everyone Get Horny and Naked Bomb', I currently have no comment.
Thursday, June 07, 2007
Fiction: Annie
Prototype Subject: “Annie” began life this morning as a simple D-cup breast. Pert, firm and flawless, Annie was the kind of breast pre-teen girls prayed for, teen boys lusted for, and post teen adults remember wistfully and couldn’t quite believe ever existed. Annie had a deep dark aureole the diameter of a coffee cup but that was okay. It gave Annie character; a unique feature that further seared herself into the memory of everyone who saw her.
That was this morning. After a few rounds of radiation, supra-hormone ejections and a little quantum manipulation, Annie began to grow. She swelled to an E-cup and the lab crew cheered. She swelled to an F-cup and lab technician Peterson thought of his mother. Annie inflated to a G-cup and lab technician Hendricks knew true love for the first time in his life. Annie continued on to grow into a H-cup and the one woman in the lab, efficiency coordinator Bentz, expressed the opinion that no one really likes a large breast.
Annie burst free of the containment glass at 1:41 pm. Growing now at an exponential rate, she crushed the other more modest prototypes in seconds with her immense curves. Lab technicians ran for their lives as Annie expanded to fill the laboratory. She pushed against the safety doors as her mass increased and broke through the steel like a plus-size woman through a cheap underwire bra.
The warning klaxons blared their warning through out the entire compound. Nervous technicians poked their heads out of sensitive laboratories only to be greeted by the sight of an impossible breast crushing its way down the hallway. Unforgiving soft flesh smothered, crushed and engulfed concrete, equipment and people. For many, the last thing they saw was Annie’s dark aureole bearing down on them with the diameter of an tractor trailer.
The breast disaster took an hour. When Annie finally stopped growing, she had burst free of the eight story underground complex. Her hard nipple rose above the rubble with the brazenness of well, a bare nipple. Although she had killed quite a few people on her path to gianthood, she still retained that slight bounce that all lovely breasts have.
At the foot of the rubble stood Otto Von Madd, Doctor of Erotic Science. He looked at Annie, who was named after a busty girl Otto had felt up in High School, and he sighed. He wasn’t upset that his lab was destroyed. He wasn’t particularly concerned that his scores of laboratory technicians were either dead or hopelessly traumatized. Otto Von Madd was a scientist and like any true scientist, he was concerned about how the experiment had run its course.
Otto sighed again.
“Too small,” he said.
That was this morning. After a few rounds of radiation, supra-hormone ejections and a little quantum manipulation, Annie began to grow. She swelled to an E-cup and the lab crew cheered. She swelled to an F-cup and lab technician Peterson thought of his mother. Annie inflated to a G-cup and lab technician Hendricks knew true love for the first time in his life. Annie continued on to grow into a H-cup and the one woman in the lab, efficiency coordinator Bentz, expressed the opinion that no one really likes a large breast.
Annie burst free of the containment glass at 1:41 pm. Growing now at an exponential rate, she crushed the other more modest prototypes in seconds with her immense curves. Lab technicians ran for their lives as Annie expanded to fill the laboratory. She pushed against the safety doors as her mass increased and broke through the steel like a plus-size woman through a cheap underwire bra.
The warning klaxons blared their warning through out the entire compound. Nervous technicians poked their heads out of sensitive laboratories only to be greeted by the sight of an impossible breast crushing its way down the hallway. Unforgiving soft flesh smothered, crushed and engulfed concrete, equipment and people. For many, the last thing they saw was Annie’s dark aureole bearing down on them with the diameter of an tractor trailer.
The breast disaster took an hour. When Annie finally stopped growing, she had burst free of the eight story underground complex. Her hard nipple rose above the rubble with the brazenness of well, a bare nipple. Although she had killed quite a few people on her path to gianthood, she still retained that slight bounce that all lovely breasts have.
At the foot of the rubble stood Otto Von Madd, Doctor of Erotic Science. He looked at Annie, who was named after a busty girl Otto had felt up in High School, and he sighed. He wasn’t upset that his lab was destroyed. He wasn’t particularly concerned that his scores of laboratory technicians were either dead or hopelessly traumatized. Otto Von Madd was a scientist and like any true scientist, he was concerned about how the experiment had run its course.
Otto sighed again.
“Too small,” he said.
Wednesday, June 06, 2007
The Last Sex Book You'll Ever Need
My friend Sara found this for me. It's nice to have friends that look at an outdated sex manual and instantly think of you. In the few months that I have had this book, I can't say it has improved my sex life but it has made a great coffee table book for guests to flip through.
Let me warn you right now that these images are a little on the big side, so go ahead and click them in order to recieve your maximum educational value.
Now some people might ridicule the idea of a photographic manual of sexual intercourse. They might laugh at the 1969 publishing date. They may even heckle the idea that you can possibly cram an entire sex course into one volume. My only response is just look at the back cover. L.R. O'Conner has a pipe. That is a man of science right there. You can trust what he has to say.
With that out of the way, let me give you a quote from the very beginning of the book. This lays the foundation for the entire book and dare I say it, the sexuality of our entire culture. This is some serious shit so please pay attention.
"Millie, pillar of her Mormon church, stout mother of four-all grown, married and now far fled from home. We can no longer take much of a look at her husband, Fred. Fred is serving five to fifteen years in the state prison on a conviction for criminal rape.
We do not know all we should about the rape syndrome. There has been very little research. We do know enough to suspect that in Fred's case a man was slowly, hatefully, agonizingly driven to the extreme. Millie supplied him with four children because it was the accepted church-approved thing, but sex she never gave him, not once in their entire union of some thirty-five years. Probably there was sexual connection in a dozen instances and then the act was the barest possible example of intromission and ejaculation. Fred probably never achieved fulfillment once in the entire period of his marriage- remembering that mere ejaculation is a poor substitute for fulfillment.
Millie destroyed everything she ever touched; marriage, husband, children. She lives now in a veritable heaven of self-pity or pretended illness, of exorcism of the evils of sex, or denunciation of the male monster. Pity the mind of the child who might be exposed to her remonstrations. yes, Millie, pillar of the church, mother of four. Wife? Human being? Monster?"
Dude. Science-guy there has some issues.Obviously the cure for stopping rapists is to provide them with hot wives instead of sexually uneducated 'monsters' like Millie. Teach us please pipe-guy!
Before we can get to the educational photographs, we must first take a stop at killing your arousal. Thanks to the Sex Education Wet Blanket Act passed in 1892, every sex manual is required to include these pictures of the equipment you are so fond of.
Grossed out and unable to unclench your thighs? Good, you are now ready for wisdom.
The book moves on to what you really wanted to see- a hot couple looking incredibly bored with having sex with each other.
The book says this is an actual married couple and I believe them. Only married people can look this disinterested in the act of sex. To be fair, my experience as an erotic photographer has taught me that sometimes taking photos of naked people under hot lights isn't as erotic as you would think but man, they have the chemistry of a frigid religious wife and her rapist husband.
To up the erotic content, sometimes they cram one sexual act after another on two pages. Feel that information ramming into you, relentlessly and passionately. Just sit back and take it.
I'm a little embarrassed to say that I didn't notice this part till my wife pointed it out to me. They list most pictures of one of two positions. They are either 'Male Dominant' or 'Male Recumbent'. Oh that made me laugh and it made my wife growl. Female Dominant would just not be right you know. As it is, there seems to be a bit of fear when the female is on top.
And the most terrifying image 1969 could offer,
All kidding aside, this is a very meaty book when it comes to sexual education. It touches on sexual techniques for men and women, even briefly discussing BDSM for one paragraph. Looking back on a book this old can be amusing but if there is one thing I respect about the book is that they fucking tried. The author mapped out sex according to his own tastes, presenting a book that he wished he had available when he was first fucking. As chauvinistic, old fashioned and at some points weird as this book is, I have to respect someone who was willing to talk about sex and offer some possibly useful advice. Hell, I respect a guy who wanted to take this many pictures of people screwing.
Imagine if this guy was around today. His blog would rock.
Tuesday, June 05, 2007
Self-Portrait
At this current moment in space-time, I am a polyamorous married man who is far more creatively oriented than anything else. I write erotic stories and take erotic photos because I always have been and always will be obsessed with sex. Everyone does it differently and everyone has an opinion on it but in so many things, sex is often ignored or hidden. And when people do write about sex, I often feel they are all re-discovering the wheel because I see them explore the same themes over and over again. I am as guilty of that as anyone else but what motivates me is the underlying thought that erotica can be better than it is. To get to the better, I sharpen my skills on the mundane in an attempt to understand what it is about the cliches of erotica that fascinates us endlessly.
The female gender will always be a mystery to me no matter how I devote myself to admiring/studying/craving/fucking/loving them. No one can hurt me as much as a woman can, and nothing can make my heart race like a woman. When I am loved by women, I feel like I have done something right. When a woman scorns me, I feel like the universe has found me wanting. That is not a healthy way to live but man, the highs are just so blissful right now.
I have dominant tendencies but lately they seem confused and contradictory. I think I perceive submission as approval. When a submissive agrees to whatever torment or pleasure I command, I feel like they are doing it because they approve of me as a person. When a submissive disobeys or forgets something, I don't see it as a fault of the submissive as much as some sort of fault in me. As if the reason they didn't bend over was because I have some quality they reject. I see a bit more clearly now why a lot of my d/s relationships have failed. I need to realize that 'No' means 'no' to this moment, not to me as a person.
Physically I am in the best shape of my life which is weird to say at 34. I exercise, I eat so much better than before and I treat sleep as something that has to be done instead of something I can put off. I am amazed by how much my physical well being translates into emotional well being. It's not just the self esteem boost that comes from being fit, but just a pleasant all around feeling. Some days I just feel happy for no reason and I have to wonder how much of that is health related.
Finally, at this moment in space-time, I really want a chocolate glazed doughnut.
The female gender will always be a mystery to me no matter how I devote myself to admiring/studying/craving/fucking/loving them. No one can hurt me as much as a woman can, and nothing can make my heart race like a woman. When I am loved by women, I feel like I have done something right. When a woman scorns me, I feel like the universe has found me wanting. That is not a healthy way to live but man, the highs are just so blissful right now.
I have dominant tendencies but lately they seem confused and contradictory. I think I perceive submission as approval. When a submissive agrees to whatever torment or pleasure I command, I feel like they are doing it because they approve of me as a person. When a submissive disobeys or forgets something, I don't see it as a fault of the submissive as much as some sort of fault in me. As if the reason they didn't bend over was because I have some quality they reject. I see a bit more clearly now why a lot of my d/s relationships have failed. I need to realize that 'No' means 'no' to this moment, not to me as a person.
Physically I am in the best shape of my life which is weird to say at 34. I exercise, I eat so much better than before and I treat sleep as something that has to be done instead of something I can put off. I am amazed by how much my physical well being translates into emotional well being. It's not just the self esteem boost that comes from being fit, but just a pleasant all around feeling. Some days I just feel happy for no reason and I have to wonder how much of that is health related.
Finally, at this moment in space-time, I really want a chocolate glazed doughnut.
Monday, June 04, 2007
Quick Prescriptions
Spanking a pretty round butt is great for curing work related stress.
Reading a book while laying in bed with a pretty girl has been proven to smooth wrinkles.
Pinning a lovely woman against the wall and groping her helps prevents cancer.
Exchanging dirty text messages with a nasty talking slut will stop global warming.
Staying up way too late on a Sunday night talking to a sexy geek will make your ass tired, but it might also save your LIFE.
Reading a book while laying in bed with a pretty girl has been proven to smooth wrinkles.
Pinning a lovely woman against the wall and groping her helps prevents cancer.
Exchanging dirty text messages with a nasty talking slut will stop global warming.
Staying up way too late on a Sunday night talking to a sexy geek will make your ass tired, but it might also save your LIFE.
Friday, June 01, 2007
Pirate Week: The End
Pirate Week draws to an end with a very pretty end provided by my wife. I hope we all learned something from this week of piracy. I hope you learned to make your own luck. I hope you can help a cabin boy fuck his first whore. I hope you found your way to the Cleavage Islands. Most of all, I hope you had some silly fun.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)