Tag Archives: cock

Doing Your Own Erotica Research or Which Way to the Experimental Sex Library?

Here I am researching for a certain sex scene I need to get cracking on.  I dig the idea, I’m just a little shy in the practical experience.  So, I do what anyone would do–I Google.  It’s not like I can go to the library and ask my friendly librarian for direction on a good book that answers the age-old question, “Would tequila on someone’s cock and balls hurt?”

So, Answers.com pops up with a promising lead (by promising I mean, it promises to be funny).

“Does rubbing boiling tequila on your penis make it grow?”  Some poor soul wants to know.

There is only one answer: “I haven’t tried this yet but maybe. The alcohol in the tequila might make blood flow faster and so give you a bigger erection. Try it”

Go ahead!  Try it!  Boil some tequila and pour it on your most sensitive body part!  You know, the one you need for both urination and procreation?  Just give it the old college try!

Sometimes that’s the only way to find the answers to the questions we seek.  Sometimes, Answers.com, Oh Wise Buddha of Endless Knowledge that it is–sometimes even it doesn’t have all the answers.

Now this blog post–http://justanotherboozeblog.blogspot.com/2009/07/5-worst-liquors-to-put-on-your-penis.html–superficially appeared to be what I was looking for.  It is a list of the top five worst liquors to put on your penis.  Good, right?  Tequila is number one.  Looks like I need a new idea.  Only problem is, the author does not seem to have actually tried it.  He’s surmising.  He jokes about dipping balls in a wide-mouthed glass, too, which isn’t precisely what I had in mind, but I must say, I like the way Snrub thinks.  Interestingly enough, he also says that it’s okay to drink it off of a woman’s body.

Hmmm.  I’m not writing it off just yet.  I’m also not writing it just yet.

Finally, I stumbled upon this very cringe-worthy compilation of the worst masturbation ideas ever.  I do so love the internet.  There are some damn creative (and stupid) people out there!  I made it about halfway through and had to take a break.  Too many ER visits for genitalia-related injuries were killing my sexy muse.  But, in case you are wondering: http://www.collegeslackers.com/forum/index.php?showtopic=11097

Read it and weep.

Anyway, the long and the short of it is, I’ll be setting up a laboratory in my basement for sexual experimentation.  I’ll require volunteers.  Perks include all the tequila you can drink off your own body and enough cat hair from my dungeon cat to knit an itchy white sweater-vest.

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Top 10 Reasons Why Women Should Objectify Men

1.   They’ve been doing it to us since the dawn of media, if not the dawn of time.  Fair is fair, fuckers.

2.    It’s so much fun!  Try it the next time the high school track team is running down the road shirtless.  Objectifying underage men is even better than ogling the 18+ variety.  It feels twice as wrong and therefore twice as nice.  If you get caught, just say you were checking out the coach.  Incidentally, you were doing both.

3.    Makes you feel like a teenager again.  You know, when you used to daydream about the cute basketball-playing senior changing in the locker room, back before you even knew what to do with a naked guy and it made you all sick to your stomach and excited at the same time?  You can still kinda get a tiny taste of that sensation when you stare at some stranger’s package and try to figure out how his basketballs are hanging.

4.    I love the fact that I slow down for cop cars, not because I am afraid of being pulled over, but to see if there are any hotties in uniform patrolling my area.  Suddenly I’m the one patrolling and it’s quite empowering.  And makes cops less scary.  And men in uniform–yum.

5.   You know when they make you stop at the light that is hardly ever red in front of the fire station?  Most people probably pound on their steering wheel in frustration as the slow-moving fire truck is painfully parked while you wait.  Not me.  It’s a free pass to check out the guys with the big hoses.  Think of how less-stressed I am because I embrace that time.  If I play my cards right, I may even need a hose-down after all of my fine imagining.

6.     Bellmen are watching you.  Give it right back.  Yes, that is for you, Hook.

7.     According to some Catholic blog post I read, objectifying your husband can be a marriage-wrecker.  I was stunned.  If I gazed longingly at my old man’s junk, I’m thinking it can only help the relationship.  Went on to read that if you are objectifying your spouse by picturing him as a human check book then all is not fine in Marriage Land.

My advise?  You need to balance your Daddy Warbucks drooling with a little cock drooling and there is your happily ever after.  You owe me twenty bucks for the counseling.

8.     Makes family reunions more fun.  Just kidding.  That was for the guy at one of our family reunions a couple of years back who said, in all seriousness, “I came here for the chicks.”  Don’t ask how many teeth he had.  I didn’t stick around long enough to count the holes.  Unfortunately, he guarded the keg the whole time.

9.     Those playing cards from the seventies—the ones with naked guys on the back—are the funniest shit you will ever see.  No lie.  It’s entertaining to imagine how they pulled all of their business out of the bottom of their short-shorts and then got themselves hard for the picture.  And what were they doing playing tennis in denim short-shorts sans tighty-whities in the first place?  What’s with that cowboy hat?  Are these for straight women or gay men. Both?  Holy afro, Batman!  I just peed my pants laughing!

10.     And the tenth reason to objectify men….   Good eye candy makes for good jerking off later.

So get out there and ogle, ladies!  Tell ’em Kimber sent ya.


Top Ten Reasons Why I Love Alien Sex

Or more accurately, I love writing alien sex.  I might love getting otherworldly snoo-snoo, but so far the opportunity hasn’t presented its bright red orangutan ass.  If you see any aliens, send them my way, and I can make an informed decision.

Lately, I’ve been balls-deep into writing alien erotica.  Not reading it, so much; although, I have enjoyed perusing it in the past.  Actually, I just discovered how sizzlin’ hot male/male erotica is, and I think I have a new past-time as a result…but that is another post.  Back to the aliens.

“Why, Kimber?  Why aliens, when there are plenty of sexy men right here on earth,” you ask?  Welllllll, allow me to blast you with my stun-gun of logic…Bend over.

1.  My number one reason is that I can come up with a bonus word for the male genitalia.  Don’t get me wrong, I love me some cock.  I bet if I searched for “cock” in my current 40,000 word WIP it would beat out “the” for most-used word.  Dick is okay.  Pole; good.  Rod; better.  Meat stick; only for special occasions.  Penis; gag me with one.  I rarely, if ever, use it.  Just too clinical.  You won’t catch me throwing a vulva in there either.  Nothing sexy about those words, in my opinion.  But if your space man calls it a xord on his planet, you get another word to use in your sex scenes.  And believe me, an extra word comes in mighty handy when the damn thing keeps popping out of his space pants.

My xord wants you.

Tell me that doesn’t sound a million times hotter than the same sentence only with the “P” word.

2.  Earth Girls Are Easy.  Or maybe they are delightfully plumper than the skinny bitches on Planet Z.  Maybe cooler, with their pink mohawks and tattoos.  Maybe their Earth Girl accents just make his xord want to come out and play in a way he’s never sexperienced before.  Whatever–aliens love us because we are a flava totally different from the PB&J they are eating at home.  We are freakin’ Filet Mignon.

3.  Aliens can look like ANYTHING I want them to.  I think it–they are it.  If you’ve got one of those freaky Smurf fetishes I’ve heard about twice now in the past week (“Where the hell are you surfing, Kimber???”  That is another post once again, but the water is just fine, let me tell ya), well then, blue aliens it is, you twisted little kinkster, you!  You want a 1980 Arnold Swarzenegger body with a 1980 Mel Gibson face?  Done (and done).  The universe is your oyster, baby!  Make that clam clammy however you can.  So long as they don’t sparkle, it’s all gravy.

4.  Spaceships are fuckin’ hot.  You like a big fictional stud on a motorcycle, done up in leather?  Then how does a space motorcycle shake your coconuts?  And space leather, whatever that is?  Let your imagination run wild, you crazy monkey!  Schhhhwwinngg.

5.  Maybe the real aliens can actually download Amazon books with their fancy WiFi bending satellites.  Kinda like that 80’s movie where the aliens liked watching old “I Love Lucy” reruns.  Real aliens could be my largest readership demographic.  They’d be looking down the front of their E.T. pj’s at their tiny schlorts and saying, “Can you believe how huge earthlings think our xords are?  I love this chick!”

6.  They can get off in any color.  Even sparkles.

7.  They’re aliens.  They can’t knock up the earth girls, so no need for the awkward condom fumble before the hanky-panky.  And then, of course, it turns out that they do knock up the girl because in some intergalactic freak of nature, our genetic material is unthinkably compatible.  That’s a given.

8.  That movie “Paul.”  Even that little guy was hot in his own I-don’t-give-a-fuck way.  And he could totally dance.  As long as he has Seth Rogen’s voice, I’d hit that and make him talk dirty to me the whole time.  Probably wouldn’t take too long, either.

9.  SUPER POWERS!!!  We all want ’em.  We all get hot for the guy (or girl) that has ’em.  They kick ass, and the options are only limited by your imagination.  Don’t think that aliens with super powers are believable?  Well Super Man just punched your face for that, but the man in tights aside, I challenge you to find me an alien who can’t grow a second schlong when the tune to “Here We Go Round the Mulberry Bush” is hummed in his ooveet.  For those that think ooveet is his asshole, get your mind out of the gutter.  It’s a freakin’ ear.  Even more difficult, I dare you to produce a sextraterrestrial that canNOT give perfect, toe-curling, real chow even on his maiden voyage to Vulva Land.  It’s impossible–because aliens are just that good.

Don’t defy me.

10.  Mork.  ‘Nuff said.

So, there you have it.  Now go out there and write some alien porn if you are so inspired.  Just don’t steal my monkey-leather-wearing, space-chopper-ridin’ Cousin Arnold idea.  That crap is copyrighted as of this posting.  Sorry.


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