Deceitful Sunday: Why Honesty is Essential Online

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On Friday, the Sinful Sunday community learned that two regular participants had stolen all of their images from other websites.  While I can’t say for certain how long the two had taken part in the meme, nor how many other bloggers they managed to fool, both also had Twitter accounts.  I don’t know whether they used that site to share any self-portraiture (or any photography at all, for that matter), but it can and should be assumed that any information they tweeted was also fraudulent.

Sorry, “they” refers to more than one individual.  Sinful Sunday creator Molly Moore has learned that comments from both individuals came from the same IP address, suggesting that a single party was behind both blogs and both Twitter accounts.  When confronted, rather than answering for his or her actions the individual deleted all of it, essentially erasing evidence of what he or she had done.
Some have asked why this is such a big deal.  The simplest answer is that Sinful Sunday expressly forbids such images.  Per the official rules:

Your post must contain a photograph (original drawing and paintings are acceptable) that you took or that someone took of you.

In other words, a photograph taken by your father of the house in which you lost your virginity wouldn’t be eligible, unless you happen to be standing on the front lawn.  Even if you own the rights to the photograph, it goes against the first rule of Sinful Sunday.  (Technically speaking, it also goes against the second rule, which states that eligible photographs must have an “erotic/sensual feel”, though provided the “loss of virginity” connection was played up, the photo would almost certainly be allowed.)
Beyond that, however, taking an image from an unrelated website and passing it off as one’s own is theft.  It may be easy to justify stealing from some big faceless porn site – not that the size or corporate facelessness of the victim does in fact justify theft – but these aren’t high-resolution publicity photos of handsomely-paid porn stars that are being misappropriated.  They are photos taken by amateurs, like virtually all of us who participate in the meme.  They are generally uncompensated financially for their artistry, and stealing their photos – whether for pay or otherwise – is an egregious offense.
When I expressed my outrage on Twitter Friday afternoon, somebody brought up the pre-Twitter days of online flirting, when one might log into IRC, ICQ, or a similar chat service for the purpose of finding a stranger with whom to talk dirty while masturbating.  It was undoubtedly common for a horny young male to believe he was chatting with a swimsuit model, never knowing that his online paramour was in actuality a man using the internet at the local library in violation of the terms of his parole.  In the 1990s this was such a common phenomenon that it essentially became a comedy cliché.
While I am unequivocally against the sort of deception that I have just described, in most cases a single online encounter with someone who is not what he or she claims to be is probably a case of little or no harm done.  As long as the person who is misrepresenting him- or herself isn’t asking for money, attempting to provoke an emotional response that will not be requited, or setting up the other person for humiliation by revealing the truth, I fail to see the damage such a lie will cause. 
Additionally, I’m guessing that most guys who partake in semi-anonymous chat sessions understand that the supposed women with whom they’re exchanging fantasies are probably men.
Additionally, there is little if any expectation of candor from a virtual one-night stand.  By definition there is no ongoing relationship, nor is there any actual physical contact between the two individuals.  A quick, meaningless dirty-talk-and-masturbation session is unlikely to include much in the way of an emotional connection, and when it’s all over there is usually no further communication between the parties.  Without any deliberate emotional manipulation or acceptance of money or gifts under false pretenses, it seems like a victimless crime.  Which is not to say that such deceit is justifiable.
I may not condone it, but I can understand at least in theory why someone might get a sexual thrill out of pretending to be someone else online.  For some I’m guessing this sort of charade serves as an abstract role-playing exercise, while others undoubtedly derive power or control from deceiving another person.  For this sort, perhaps it is simply the knowledge that things are not as they appear that provides emotional or sexual satisfaction.
The most obvious motive that I can think of, however, is the exchange of pictures.  As someone who has spent his fair share of time using these chat services, I know all too well that for some users “Got any pics?” was as likely a lead-in as “a/s/l?”  For an unscrupulous user, a cache of stolen pictures was the equivalent of currency, suitable to be used in trade for more of the same.
So what benefit might one derive from setting up a fake blog and a fake Twitter account, and inventing a new persona?  Sorry, make that multiple fake blogs and fake Twitter accounts, as well as multiple new personas.  It seems like a lot of work just to pull the wool over the eyes of a trusting cohort, even if you’re not actually creating original content.  (I have no idea whether these blogs featured any other posts beyond their weekly participation in Sinful Sunday.  It’s difficult enough for us to come up with a couple new posts each week; I can’t imagine having to write twice as many, each in a unique voice.)
I can probably rule out that the motive was trading pictures, as beyond commenting on all the other posts, participation in Sinful Sunday carries with it no implied quid pro quo.  Nor does blogging in general.  Nor does Twitter.  If an individual wants to see erotic photography (or read erotic writing) shared by another, there is no need to offer up something in return.  While a user can certainly spend much time visiting multiple blogs and collecting pictures should he or she wish to do so, there is no need to pretend to be someone else or even to interact in any way with those sharing them.
In my admittedly amateur opinion, it seems most likely that the perpetrator of this charade simply wanted to engage in role-playing, likely for sexual purposes.  If that is the case, he or she should have obtained consent from his or her partners, i.e. everyone who unwittingly went along for the ride, who commented on a Sinful Sunday post under false pretenses or interacted with him or her on Twitter.  There, as well as in the blogging community, long-term connections are easily made.  It is not uncommon to build strong, lasting friendships.  Because of this, trust is paramount amongst members.
And make no mistake, it is a community.  For some, it may be the only social network they have, either online or off.  For others, the connections and friendships made through Twitter and blogging are essential to their emotional or sexual development, as these are perhaps the only places where they can be completely honest about who they are.  In light of this, the violation of trust that has taken place is inexcusable.  Like most if not all of our fellow bloggers, and presumably most people in general, we place a premium on honesty.  We don’t like having our trust abused.
It is disappointing that, for whatever reason, a shady individual sought to infiltrate Sinful Sunday in such a deceptive fashion.  However, it is not discouraging.  Having taken part in the meme since January 2012 and gotten to know many of my fellow bloggers, I realize that this is the exception as opposed to the rule.  Despite this revelation I can’t see myself looking upon newcomers to this community with distrust.  It seems a horrible way to live.
If I’m wrong and the person (or conceivably people, though hereafter I will continue to refer to the individual singularly) created these accounts for the best possible reasons, perhaps wanting to belong but lacking the confidence to be herself, I wish she had taken the time to read a few blogs before she fabricated a false identity and forged a chain of untruths.  If she had done so, it would have quickly become clear that this is a very welcoming community.  I refer not just to Sinful Sunday and those who participate therein, but blogging in general.  In the circles in which we travel, all body types, shapes, sizes, and persuasions are accepted without any reservation.
In short, we trusted her to be straightforward.  I wish she would have trusted us to be accepting.
– Jack

A Long-Awaited Rendezvous 2015 (Part One of Three)

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Part I: Anticipation

Becca stepped out of the cab, her purse slung over one shoulder and her overnight bag on the other. She paid the driver through his open window, then bid him a good day. By the time he’d pulled away from the curb she was already at the lobby doors.

She wouldn’t have described the room as cavernous, exactly, but as she heard the echo of her heels clicking on the polished ceramic tiles she guessed that whoever first used that word to describe a large room was thinking of a place like this. Enormous marble columns seemed to hold up the ceiling like great stony arms reaching to the sky. Beautiful crystal chandeliers hanging twenty feet from the ceiling provided more elegance than illumination; each resembled a jeweled crown, but the real light came from a series of electric lamps that ringed the lobby.

The lobby bar looked warm and inviting as she passed. A dozen stools, five of them occupied, stood before a long wood-paneled counter. Four small tables with leather chairs surrounded the bar. A waiter in a classy black vest and tie carried a tray of cocktails to a couple sitting at one of the tables. She imagined taking a break from the evening’s fun just long enough to come down for a drink.

As she approached the front desk she passed the most peculiar piece of abstract art: A quartet of burnished stone rings, each placed at staggered intervals along a metal rail. Actually, “rings” wasn’t the right word. These were definitely hoops. They were big enough for the dolphins at Sea World to jump through. She looked at it for a moment, and it occurred to her that while it was an interesting piece, she couldn’t tell what the point might be. The meaning, if there was one, eluded her. Maybe it was just another expensive flourish, like the the columns and the chandeliers.

Speaking of expensive flourishes, a shiny black parlor grand piano sat near the front desk. There was no one playing it, but she imagined a tuxedo-clad pianist performing for guests during peak hours. Right now, the lobby was almost empty, and she walked right up to the desk. The clerk was a well-dressed, impeccably-coiffed young woman with a pleasant smile on her face.

“Good afternoon. Are you checking in today?”

“I’m actually supposed to be meeting a guest of the hotel. He said you’d have to call up to his room.
He’s in room…” She checked her phone for his text message. “Room 2704.”

The desk clerk indicated that she would need the name of the guest. Becca told her, and the clerk dialed his room. The conversation was short, then she replaced the telephone handset and withdrew a plastic card from behind the counter. “He asked that you be given a key to the room.” She placed the card into a small paper folder and wrote the room number on the outside. “As you said, room 2704.”

As the elevator ascended, Becca felt the anticipation stirring within her. Her panties were damp with arousal. She was wearing a maxi-dress that reached her ankles and it was all she could do to keep from hiking it up and taking off some of the pressure. She looked around the elevator for signs of a camera. She couldn’t see one, but in this kind of hotel it had to be there. That’s all she needed: To give some bored security guard the show of his life. She silently reminded herself that the years-long desire she’d felt for him would be culminating in mere minutes. Every fantasy that had ever passed through her mind was on the verge of coming true. She was closer to him than she had ever been before.

When he had suggested finally meeting, she was intrigued. She had enjoyed the casual back-and-forth that had exemplified their relationship: an email here, a text message there, and perhaps a Skype session when they wanted to actually speak to each other face-to-face. Meeting in person on a regular basis or even an occasional one had simply not been feasible until now; nearly two thousand miles separated their homes, and the stress of air travel wasn’t something he relished. The fact that she was a part-time student more or less ruled out the chances of her traveling recreationally.

He told her he was going to start a travel fund specifically for the purpose of flying out and meeting her. She found the idea and his enthusiasm cute, much like when a family puts money aside to take a vacation together, though this was hardly the same thing. Although she didn’t think he’d really do it, she enjoyed the occasional message he’d sent her whenever he added money to the fund. It took him almost a year after he first made the suggestion, but eventually he texted her the good news.

The doors opened onto the twenty-seventh floor and she stepped out. Her heels fell onto plush red carpeting and she followed signs to his room. As she neared room 2704 she realized that she was nervous, but it was a good feeling, not unlike when you’re at a surprise party and the unwitting guest of honor is about to walk through the door. She had been to many surprise parties, but none of them had ended up like she hoped this little party would end: With both of them naked, covered in sweat and tangled up in silk bedsheets as they lay intertwined.

She stood in front of the door to his room and brought the key card close to the lock, but she couldn’t make herself insert it. Was she supposed to just walk right in? She raised a fist to the door as if to knock, but then felt silly doing so. He’d asked that she be given a key, so obviously he wanted her to walk right in. She imagined him soaking in a jacuzzi tub and beckoning her in. Or maybe he was already lying in bed, atop the covers amidst velvety red rose petals. She imagined quickly stripping off her clothes and climbing on top of him, riding him energetically until they both climaxed.

She felt the anticipation building and quickly pushed the key card into the lock. A light beside the slot quickly turned green and she twisted the handle downward, to no avail. She tried the handle again, upward this time, then re-inserted the card. The green light came on once again, so she tried the handle. Both directions. No luck. She looked at the shiny brass plate beside the door and confirmed that she was in the right place. The engraved numerals corresponded to the room number in his text message. It occurred to her that maybe she was just going too fast for the lock to keep up; she was feeling impatient, after all.

She waited a few seconds to make sure that the green light had gone out, effectively giving the locking mechanism time to reset, and then she tried the key card again. When the light turned green, she took a deep breath. She slowly exhaled, then placed her hand on the handle but by that time the light had been extinguished. She let out a sigh of frustration, then tried again. This time the light flashed a disapproving red. The next attempt yielded the expected green, and she pulled the handle downward, then upward, all the while pressing her shoulder into the door.

“Oh, for – ” She gave up and balled her hand into a fist, rapping three times on the heavy wood. She expected him to come to the door in a bathrobe, dripping wet from the tub, and wondered what she might say to him by way of apology. She’d blame the stupid door, of course. Or the woman downstairs, who seemed so helpful but obviously didn’t have a clue about how to program a key card. Maybe it was her first day on the job.

She could feel her cheeks flushing, and tried to keep it together. No! There was no reason to apologize. He wouldn’t be upset that she couldn’t get the key to work. Even if he was mildly inconvenienced, he’d feel differently about it once he got a look at what was under her dress.

She heard a click from within, and the door slowly opened. The sight of him standing on the other side took her breath away. He wasn’t naked, or wrapped in a towel. He was completely dressed, in a pair of jeans and a loose-fitting T-shirt. He still had his shoes on, even. But the sight of him there, right in front of her, close enough to touch! Becca was fairly certain she’d never swooned before, but she was sure that this is what it felt like.

“Hi.” His voice was soft and welcoming, and he motioned her into the room. “They didn’t give you a key?”

“No, they did,” she said as she stepped inside. “I tried it over and over again but it didn’t work.”

He nodded as she spoke, considering each of her words. “That happened to me a couple times. It’s tricky. I’m sorry about that.”

She didn’t answer. She was too busy admiring the king-size bed. A wide and luxurious mattress was topped with an impeccably-fitted white duvet and three soft pillows, and the entire thing butted up against an oak headboard. Two nighttables flanked the bed, each with a tall porcelain lamp. All she wanted to do was pull back the covers and climb in with him; she had waited far too long to be restrained any longer.

To be continued…

TMI Tuesday: February 17, 2015

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This week on TMI Tuesday let’s talk sexual expectations or…

Jack’s Answers
1. What are some challenges related to your sex life?
The only real challenges, or more accurately obstacles, to our sex life come in the form of an unfortunate lack of both time and energy.  As you are no doubt aware, we are the parents of an extremely rambunctious young girl.  She doesn’t nap, barely sleeps at night, and while she is fully capable of the sort of independence one would expect of a child her age, she likes nothing more than to be in the same room as Jill and I.  Some evenings, by the time she has finally fallen asleep for the night and Jill and I have handled all of the standard housekeeping matters – house tidied up, dinner dishes washed, laundry done, everything prepared for the following day – there is neither time nor energy left for sex.  That’s not to say that we don’t make it a priority; to compensate for the lack of late-night shenanigans we sometimes have sex early in the morning before our daughter is awake, or else in the late afternoon or early evening while she’s distracted with books or television.  But Jill and I would still like to finish our day with sex as well.  At the very least, however, we live in the same house.  At various points in our relationship we lived far apart.  That is infinitely worse.
2. Is quality or quantity most important?
Definitely quantity over quality.  Before you jeer my answer, let me elaborate:  I don’t think I’ve ever had bad sex.  That’s not a boast; while I’ve certainly played a role in all of the good sex I’ve had over the years, my claim is more of a statement about the quality of my partners than of myself, and I hope that they would say the same of me if asked.  Therefore, quality isn’t as important to me as it might be to some.  As long as my partner wants to be there, and as long as the situation is somewhat intimate and pleasurable, that’s quality as far as I’m concerned; to me, having sex with a partner beats not having sex with a partner any day.  And while I’ve had relatively indifferent sex, or sex where I really wasn’t that into the other person, I wouldn’t classify it as bad.  In almost all cases I’ve just been grateful to be invited to the party, so to speak.  
Especially if there’s ice cream!
3. How much sex is enough?
I don’t know, but I haven’t reached my max yet.
4. I want to have more _____ .
Variety with regard to my sexual partners.  Flirting with women without any explicit expectation of sex.  Opportunities to see women I know naked.  Long, slow, deep, soft, wet kisses that last three days.  Intimacy that doesn’t necessarily lead to orgasm.  Midday masturbation sessions.  Ice cream.  
Am I turning you on?
5. I would like to attempt new sex positions such as _____ .
I thought about coming up with a smart-assed answer to this question, i.e. a hypothetical, implausible position with a ridiculous name and an overly elaborate description that can only be achieved by invertebrates.  But then I decided to play it straight.  The truth is that Jill and I probably rely on a half-dozen separate positions in the typical non-rushed sex session.  We have been known to utilize others on occasion, when the mood strikes us and we fancy something a bit different.  Having said that – and unable to speak for my wife – I have no pressing need to try any specific new position, but I will gladly do so when one comes to our attention.
6. I would like to stop doing _____ sex position.
Obviously the position of the blank precludes me from giving as in-depth an answer as I would like to give.  I mean, I could say “the spastic crane” or “the hiccoughing Wookiee”, if these were actual sex positions, but again, the wording of the question and the placement of the blank doesn’t permit me to elaborate on exactly what the position entails.  It’s a moot point; there are no positions in which I regularly engage that I would like to stop.  We admittedly do not regularly utilize the sort of positions that exist mainly to impress visually but are not practical for sex; those in which we do regularly engage, while typical, never fail to satisfy.
Nor does ice cream.
7. To me foreplay means _____ .
Foreplay means a hopefully extended and period of leisurely, unfocused (and often not goal-driven) stimulation and pleasure not limited only to the physical realm.  Foreplay can be mental and emotional as well, and often should be.  While writing this response, I decided to do a Google search for “foreplay definition” just to see how the professionals define it.  One of the first results was from Urban Dictionary, and included the following: 

The act of sexually arousing your lover before you partake in having sex. The fore is derrived [sic] from before. Usually the woman initiates it by either giving the man a handjob or a blowjob.

I have no words.

8. Something I think about a lot related to sex is _____ .
How to have more of it with other people.

Bonus: Tell us something you love about your sex life.
Honestly, I’m just grateful that I have one.

Jill’s Answers
1. What are some challenges related to your sex life?
Time is probably the biggest challenge for me.  Energy too, I guess, but that’s directly related to the lack of time.  Also, and I don’t mean this to sound as mean as it’s probably going to sound, but our daughter being around is a huge challenge.  And my in-laws, who frequently stay with us.  They tend to walk into our room with little warning, or even just knocking on the bedroom door when it’s clear that we don’t want to be disturbed.  And they make a hell of a lot of noise just outside of our bedroom.  I realize it’s not that large a house, but go play somewhere else, please.
2. Is quality or quantity most important?
I’d love to have both, and sometimes we do manage to have both.  But if I had to choose one over the other, I’d definitely opt for quality.  Quantity is nice, but I don’t want a lot of lousy sex.  I’d rather have a little great sex.  I don’t want pain.  I don’t want awkwardness.  I don’t want stress, like the kind that comes with worrying that someone’s going to come barging in.
This is exactly what it’s like.
3. How much sex is enough?
I don’t think it’s ever enough.  Even when our daughter was much younger and would regularly nap, and Jack and I were sometimes having sex twice a day five or more days a week, it was never enough.  I guess when I’m sore or tired or in desperate need of sleep, maybe that’s enough.  But I’ve never actually told a partner, or at least a partner who was good at it, “That’s plenty, thanks.”  I’ve said that I’m satisfied, but I’ve never thought, “Okay, I can stop now.  No more of that for today, please.”  Usually when I do want to stop, it’s only reluctantly because I need sleep.
This is probably too much sex.
4. I want to have more _____ .
Orgasms.  I always want more orgasms.  And head.  I can’t get enough of that.  Wouldn’t mind more hot makeout sessions, especially with women.  It’s been awhile since I’ve had one of those.  Actually if I could combine all three of these things that would be perfect.
5. I would like to attempt new sex positions such as _____ .
Something involving a swing.  I’ve never used one of those, and I think it could be fun.  Jack and I have sex in a lot of positions, and there isn’t a lot that we enjoy that we don’t already do regularly.  Maybe if I was a bit thinner we could manage some new positions, but our sex life isn’t sufficiently lacking that I’m going to go on a crash diet or something.
6. I would like to stop doing _____ sex position.
Being interrupted?  Does that count as a sex position?  If so, I’d like to stop doing that one immediately.  Seriously, though, there aren’t any positions that I really dislike.  If there was one, I would have informed Jack before now and we would have stopped.  I don’t need to use this blog to inform him that, say, cowgirl just isn’t doing it for me.  (Note:  It totally is.)
7. To me foreplay means _____ .
Cuddling.  Kissing.  Touching.  Getting my clit sucked.  Getting fisted.  For me, it’s anything that’s not penetrative (i.e. penis-in-vagina) sex.  It doesn’t matter if these activities lead to or include orgasm.  For some reason I consider anything that doesn’t involve penetrative intercourse (but rather precedes it) to be foreplay.
Not to be confused with “for play”.
8. Something I think about a lot related to sex is _____ .
I regularly think about pretty much all areas of sex, whether I’m actively fantasizing or just daydreaming.  I think about kissing and heavy petting.  Someone touching my clit.  Sucking cock.  Sucking cocks.  Fisting.  Having my G-spot stimulated.  I think about lying in afterglow, my chest rising and falling with each breath.  I remember past experiences and how good they felt.  I imagine how exquisite the next time will be.  Often this line of thinking will lead to more, or at least to masturbation.
Bonus: Tell us something you love about your sex life.
I love that I get to have lots of orgasms.  Jack is a very generous lover, easily the most thoughtful and caring I’ve ever had.  He always makes sure that I’m totally satisfied, and sometimes he will put his own orgasm on hold to give me a couple more just because he can tell that I’m getting close.  Sometimes when we’re rushed, it means he won’t get to come at all.  
How to play TMI Tuesday: Copy the above TMI Tuesday questions to your webspace (i.e., a blog). Answer the questions there, then leave a comment below, on this blog post, so we’ll all know where to read your responses. Please don’t forget to link to tmituesdayblog from your website!

TMI Tuesday: February 10, 2015

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In the U.S.A. there is a late-night talk show hosted by comedian/writer Conan O’Brien.

I had not seen Conan O’Brien show for several years. Recently, I decided to watch it and I heard these questions for TMI Tuesday.

TMI & Conan O’Brien

Jack’s Answers
1. One thing I will never comprehend is ____ .
Math.  Don’t get me wrong, I get the basic stuff well enough.  I can certainly do simple algebra, although after almost twenty years without using any of it I’ll probably need a refresher course.  But anything past geometry?  You might as well be trying to teach me how to use gills to breathe underwater.  Simply put, even relatively basic math is not my strong suit, and while I’d love to have been one of those kids who excelled at the subject in high school, I was instead blessed with extraordinary writing ability and a better-than-average grasp of the English language.  (As you are undoubtedly aware.)
2. My blood type is ____ .
Something positive.  A-positve?  I’m going to go with A-positive, if only because Jill says it is, and of the two of us she is the more responsible one.  I remember birthdays and anniversaries, and she remembers blood types.

To be fair, she also remembers birthdays and anniversaries.

3. I am pretty healthy for ____ .
A fairly sedentary man in his late thirties who has never been in particularly good shape nor remotely concerned with his physical well-being.

I do slightly better with my mental well-being.
4. When I really cannot sleep I ____ .
Sometimes masturbate.  I know what you’re thinking:  Sometimes?  You probably assumed that would be my first move.  After all, I enjoy masturbating and do it often.  It is a natural sleep aid, not to mention a fantastic way to kill some time on a sleepless night.  But I am often more likely to pick up my phone and check a few favorite websites, perhaps scroll through my Twitter timeline and do a bit of flirting.  Oftentimes what happens is that my flirty tweets get the attention of one or more of my sexy Twitter friends, but by the time they reply I am fast asleep.

5. You never forget your ____ .

Oven is on.
Learned that one the hard way.
6. As a child my favorite pet was ____ .
An actual animal, unlike Jill who is my favorite pet as an adult.
Pictured here.

Bonus: This week’s question comes from The Late Phoenix – “Why was fuck chosen as the ultimate swear word? It coulda easily been duck.”
I’m guessing it’s because of the word’s association with sex.  Collectively, society – I’m speaking of American society in particular – seems to have a huge stick up its ass, and not in a good way, when it comes to sex.  Much of the civilized world is made up of puritanical killjoys who at least publicly seem to regard sex in much the same fashion as they would a dental appointment or a trip to the DMV.  Therefore it makes sense that the powers that be would assign “absolute worst expletive” status to a word that describes sexual intercourse.  I’ve never understood why “fuck” is a dirty word, but “kill” is perfectly acceptable in polite company.  It seems like hypocrisy of the worst sort.  Imagine if calling someone a motherkiller was the worst epithet imaginable.  I know I’d rather hang out with a motherfucker than a motherkiller.  Ironically, “fuck” is generally considered to have been derived from a Germanic word, and if you’ve ever watched German porn you know that there’s very little that’s off-limits.
Jill’s Answers
1. One thing I will never comprehend is ____ .
Reality TV.  I just don’t see the entertainment value, or even the purpose, of glorifying stupid people who allow their horrible life choices to be broadcast for the entertainment of the masses.  In fact, I find it distressing that enough people do enjoy this garbage to justify producing it in the first place.  Shows like Jersey Shore, Sixteen and Pregnant, and Honey Boo Boo are all fabricated bullshit pseudo-drama.  I know some people who watch this sort of thing find that it makes them feel better about themselves, but I just feel pity.  Why bother?
Tod Browning would have a field day.

2. My blood type is ____ .
O Negative.  That means that I had to get a shot when I was pregnant, and again after my daughter was born.  Because Jack’s blood type is positive and mine is not, there was a chance that the baby would have a positive blood type (and she did).  Thus I had to get a shot to ensure that my body wouldn’t fight her presence.  Then when she was born and we found out that her blood type was positive, I had to have another shot.  I’m not sure why.  I guess the doctor just liked sticking me.  
3. I am pretty healthy for ____ .
An elementary school teacher constantly exposed to runny noses, coughing, and sneezing right in my face.  Not to mention that one gross kid who keeps trying to touch the straw on my drink.  They’re like little Slimers from Ghostbusters.
4. When I really cannot sleep I ____ .
Masturbate or watch TV.
Sometimes I do both at once.
5. You never forget your ____ .
One true love.  If not for the “your” in the prompt I would have said “the pain of giving birth.”
[Editor’s note:  You can’t forget your one true love, because he lives with you.]
6. As a child my favorite pet was ____ .
A little black french poodle.  It was my first dog.  I’d take her to get groomed and they’d do her hair and put little bows in it.  (Don’t judge me.  I was a little girl.)  But I didn’t really play with her at all, or do anything fun beyond taking her to get her hair done.  Now that I think of it, I wasn’t very fond of pets.
I eventually grew fond of heavy petting, though.

Bonus: This week’s question comes from The Late Phoenix – “Why was fuck chosen as the ultimate swear word? It coulda easily been duck.”
I have no idea!  I love to fuck and I don’t see it as a bad thing in any way.  In fact, I can’t really understand using the word when you’re angry (although I do it myself sometimes).  When I hear it, it almost always makes me smile regardless of the context, simply because of the connotation.

Howard the Duck was unavailable for comment.

How to play TMI Tuesday: Copy the above TMI Tuesday questions to your webspace (i.e., a blog). Answer the questions there, then leave a comment below, on this blog post, so we’ll all know where to read your responses. Please don’t forget to link totmituesdayblog from your website!

Sinful Sunday: Pull My Hair

Jack13 Comments
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We think the title of this post speaks for itself, though we’d be remiss if we didn’t use this space to mention that this week marks the two-hundredth edition of the Sinful Sunday meme (and by my count, our seventh-fifth Sinful Sunday post).  Thanks to Molly for keeping it going all these years, and for everyone who’s ever participated or enjoyed one of our posts.

See who else is being sinful at Molly’s Daily Kiss!

Sinful Sunday

TMI Tuesday: February 3, 2015

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Flowers, Kisses, and Money…Welcome to TMI Tuesday.

Jack’s Answers
1. When did you last give or get flowers? What was the occasion?
I know you’ll find this impossible to believe, but I’ve never been given flowers.  Try not to faint.  On the other hand, I give flowers frequently, mostly to Jill.  The last time was a few months ago, when I had a bouquet delivered to Jill’s school on her birthday.  Yes, I could have simply had the bouquet waiting for her when she got home, but I’m so ostentatious that I insist that her co-workers witness my every grand gesture.
That’s also why I show up to take Jill to lunch dressed like this.

2. When was the last time you had a long passionate kiss? Who did you kiss?
My wife.  [EDIT:  For some reason, neither of us mentioned when the kiss actually took place.  Our last passionate kiss as of when this post was written was on Monday morning as Jill was leaving for work.  Our last passionate kiss as of when edit was made was on Tuesday morning as Jill was leaving for work.]
3. You’ve just been given $100 for no reason at all. It is yours to do as you wish. Will you save it or spend it? If spend, what will you buy?
Oh, I’d definitely spend it.  I’d love to tell you that I’d use it to renew my XBox Live membership and buy some clothes or some unnecessary but fun piece of personal tech, but in reality $100 is an average grocery shopping trip for us, so realistically it’s getting spent on milk, eggs, and produce.
Either that or I’ll hit the club and make it rain.

4. What is your most irritating habit?
Is this like one of those interview questions where they ask you for a negative quality you possess and you’re supposed to come up with a positive that can be taken in a negative fashion?  I’ll say that my most irritating habit is my extraordinary sexual prowess and my annoying insistence that all of my bedmates are fully satisfied at all times.

5. If you had a day off alone, and could do whatever you wanted, what would you do?

My first instinct is to say “Nothing”, because my typical day is so full of activity that a few hours – if not an entire day – with absolutely nothing planned sounds wonderful.  However, in the last several years I have grown so accustomed to doing several things at once literally every waking moment that I don’t think I could still pull off a day of total leisure.  That being said, an ideal day would involve me sleeping in until at least eight or eight-thirty, and immediately seeking out a partner for a randy Skype session.  Once orgasms were had and everyone was satisfied I’d probably shower and either do some writing in my office or watch a movie or two on the couch.  I’d probably skip breakfast, but would cook a very impressive lunch, then relax on the couch while watching another movie or catching up on some television.  I rarely have the opportunity to sit and focus on the TV, so it would be nice to do so, though I’d be surprised if I didn’t fall asleep instead.  In the early evening I’d hit the gym and work out, then drink some whiskey while cooking dinner and put on some music while I eat.  Before bed I’d take a shower and shave, then see if any of my Skype friends overseas (or for that matter anyone in the United States who stays up late) are interested in putting on a show and getting one in return.  And once that was done I’d get some sleep.

Bonus: Have you ever had sex at work? Where–closet, stairway, office, boardroom, etc.? Do you regret the encounter?

Yes I have!  In fact, I’ve written about at least one such incident.  Actually I’ve had sex in two of the offices in which I’ve worked with a combined four different partners, as well as in a bar in which I briefly filled in for a friend.  I regret none of these incidents.  But I’ve never had sex in a client’s home.  That’s probably crossing a line.
Jill’s Answers
1. When did you last give or get flowers? What was the occasion?
I know you’re all probably thinking that the last person to give me flowers was my fabulous husband Jack, likely for our anniversary or some other special occasion, or for no reason at all because he sometimes does that.  But actually, the last person who gave me flowers was one of my students!  And he gave them to me for no reason at all!  Just because I’m great!  Before that, Jack gave me a beautiful bouquet for my birthday.
That’s not all he gave me.
2. When was the last time you had a long passionate kiss? Who did you kiss?
The only long passionate kisses I’ve gotten lately are from Jack.  Although our daughter, unaware of the implication of such kisses, often tries to imitate Jack when giving me my good night kiss.
3. You’ve just been given $100 for no reason at all. It is yours to do as you wish. Will you save it or spend it? If spend, what will you buy?
I’ll give you the boring, practical answer first, followed by the more exciting but less responsible answer.  The boring, practical answer is that I’d save it for upcoming bills because they never stop coming and we’re far from rich.  The more exciting but less responsible answer is that I’d spend it on a massage.  I really need one, and while Jack gives wonderful, sometimes orgasmic massages (which often end with him slipping inside me), it’s been too long since I’ve had another man’s hands all over my body.
Pictured: Reality.
4. What is your most irritating habit?
I repeat myself constantly.  I’ve been doing it for years, and I’m pretty sure that it comes from being a teacher and having to tell my class everything at least twice before it sinks in.  My daughter often makes me repeat myself as well.  
5. If you had a day off alone, and could do whatever you wanted, what would you do?
I’d start off by making myself a cup of coffee and drinking it in bed while reading erotica.  Before I’d finished my coffee I’d be so turned on that I’d masturbate for awhile, and when I was satisfied I’d go into the living room and lie under a blanket while I catch up on the DVR.  Eventually I’d take a long, luxurious bubble bath, and afterwards I’d get dressed and head to the beach to walk on the sand.  Afterwards I’d hit the gym and go for a swim, then have a relaxing massage.  I’d take a leisurely shower and get dressed, then meet a sexy friend for drinks and dinner.  We’d spend the meal flirting and teasing, and even if nothing overtly sexual happened, I’d leave the restaurant with my panties soaking wet and have to finger my clit as soon as I got into the car.  Once I came I’d lick and suck my juices off of my fingers, imagining that they were his fingers instead.  Once I got home I’d get right into bed, and if I was still aroused (as I probably would be) I’d have another orgasm and go to sleep.
Bonus: Have you ever had sex at work? Where–closet, stairway, office, boardroom, etc.? Do you regret the encounter?
Never at work.  The closest I’ve come was having sex in my car in the parking lot at work.  And I most certainly don’t regret it.
How to play TMI Tuesday: Copy the above TMI Tuesday questions to your webspace (i.e., a blog). Answer the questions there, then leave a comment below, on this blog post, so we’ll all know where to read your responses. Please don’t forget to link to tmituesdayblog from your website!

Sinful Sunday: Just a Pinch

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Jill finds that rough stimulation of her nipples sometimes intensifies her orgasm.  Not always; not necessarily even often.  But when climax is just out of reach and she has to focus hard, a bite or a squeeze might make all the difference.  In fact, it might just the thing to trigger a several-minute-long chain of orgasms that soaks her thighs, the sheets, and whatever toy she happens to be using (e.g. my cock).
Sinful Sunday

TMI Tuesday: January 27, 2015

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Hello! This week’s TMI Tuesday questions were adapted from the Newlywed Game. Enjoy!

Bringing Up the Past
Jack’s Answers
1. What is the nickname a lover had for you that made you cringe?
I don’t really remember any especially cringe-worthy nicknames given to me by a lover; on occasion when someone with whom I was having sex saw fit to give me a nickname I usually appreciated whatever it was within them – affection, love, or whatever – that saw fit to do so.  And generally speaking such nicknames weren’t bad ones.  Typical, perhaps, but not the sort of nickname that made me want to go into hiding.  That being said, a woman I dated in my early twenties nicknamed my penis Floyd, ostensibly because she was a fan of Pink Floyd and my penis was in fact pink.  I didn’t care for the nickname at all – I’m not the sort of guy who insists that his penis be addressed by a proper name, or addressed at all – but it caused little harm and so I didn’t protest.
2. Where do you most often toss or keep your excess change (coins)?
Into my daughter’s piggy bank.  It’s a small, relatively inexpensive gesture that means a lot to her, and besides, with college tuition costs rising I figure she’ll need all the help she can get.
3. If someone wrote a book about your past lovers and past sex life, which category fits best:
a. Abnormal psychology book
b. Steamy romance novel
c. Sad sad story
I’d opt for (b), though as a dude I’m more likely to classify it as porn than I am as romance.  Sure, there was plenty of romance, but I’m not the sort of guy whose sexual bag of tricks mirror those seen in the typical bodice-ripper romance novel.  How often do romance novels feature fisting?  [Note:  I’ve never actually read one, but I’m guessing not very often.]
Wrong kind of fisting.
4. Some say sex is like driving. Pretend you are a car. Are you: rear, front or all-wheel drive?
I’m going to go with front-wheel drive, simply because I prefer to give rather than receive, and I’m guessing that, for a male respondent, the difference between rear, front, and all-wheel drive is whether he catches, pitches, or both.
To say nothing of whether he bats.
5. What is it that you do daily that you would like to stop doing?
I would like to stop my annoying habit of sometimes not fucking my wife.  Has anyone ever had daily partnered sex (i.e. not masturbation) for a prolonged period of time, i.e. a month or more?  Jill and I have talked about doing this, but we’ve never actually managed it, certainly not for a month or more.  And as our schedules become increasingly jam-packed with various social obligations, that seems unlikely to change.  Still, I’d love for us to be able to make time for daily sex.
6. What is the biggest lie you ever told to get someone into bed or the biggest lie you ever told in bed?
Biggest lie I ever told to get someone into bed?  Probably that I was a staffer for Bill Clinton, and yes you can totally meet him!  Biggest lie I ever told in bed?  Definitely something along the lines of “No, it’s fine!  You didn’t bite me.  It didn’t hurt at all.”
It was a little bit like this.
Bonus: If married, who was interested in marriage first, you or your spouse?
I want to say that Jill was interested in marriage first, but I think that we both came to it at around the same time.  That is, unless she was already thinking marriage in the very early stages of our dating relationship, and considering what a good lay I am, that’s not unfathomable.
Jill’s Answers
1. What is the nickname a lover had for you that made you cringe?
I’d have to go with “Babe”, though I don’t have a problem with the word itself.  After all, Jack addresses me as “Babe” sometimes, and I’m fine with it.  But one former lover of mine used to say it to me, and for some reason it just made my skin crawl.  He was a complete asshole and, at the risk of sounding shallow or full of myself, totally beneath me.  Needless to say, calling me “Babe” was probably the least of his offenses, and we didn’t stay together very long.
Still, it could’ve been worse.

2. Where do you most often toss or keep your excess change (coins)?
Any change I receive from a purchase goes in a coin purse that I carry, except for quarters.  Quarters go into a plastic film canister that I keep in my car for when I park at a parking meter.
Apparently I’m not the first person to think of this.  Found in Google Image Search.

3. If someone wrote a book about your past lovers and past sex life, which category fits best:
a. Abnormal psychology book
b. Steamy romance novel
c. Sad sad story
It would probably be a combination of (b) steamy romance and (c) sad story.  Fortunately the sad parts would only account for a small portion of the overall narrative (at most twenty percent) while the remaining eighty percent would be loaded with the sort of eroticism some only dream about.  
4. Some say sex is like driving. Pretend you are a car. Are you: rear, front or all-wheel drive?
I’m definitely all-wheel drive.  I am versatile in bed, and can be dominant or submissive as the situation dictates.  Also, going with either rear-wheel drive or front-wheel drive sounds like it would be limiting.  I like it from the front just as much as I do from behind.
5.  What is it that you do daily that you would like to stop doing?
I’d like to stop hitting the snooze button on my alarm clock.  Rather than giving me a few more minutes of much-needed sleep as I hope it will, hitting snooze just makes me tired and sometimes late for work.
This probably doesn’t help either.

6. What is the biggest lie you ever told to get someone into bed or the biggest lie you ever told in bed?
That I loved the other person.  [Editor’s Note:  I hope “the other person” does not refer to me.]
Bonus: If married, who was interested in marriage first, you or your spouse?
I was interested in marriage before Jack was.  That is not necessarily to say that we each decided we would like to marry the other at different points in our relationship.  It’s more about the fact that I was raised to some extent to believe that marriage was the only correct path for a young woman, and therefore it was something I wanted to do from a very early age.  However, I’m also relatively sure that in the context of Jack’s and my relationship, I was the one who was interested in marriage first.
How to play TMI Tuesday: Copy the above TMI Tuesday questions to your webspace (i.e., a blog). Answer the questions there, then leave a comment below, on this blog post, so we’ll all know where to read your responses. Please don’t forget to link to tmituesdayblog from your website!

I’m Not Using Viber

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It’s no secret that I enjoy flirting.  Doesn’t matter if it’s with a friend I’ve known going back to elementary school, or a sexy blogger in whose presence I’ve never actually stood.  Doesn’t matter if we’re standing face-to-face at a social event, or separated by thousands of miles and communicating online.  I’m always up for some sexy talk.  If it’s online and pictures are exchanged, so much the better; while I consider myself more cerebral than the average guy I still appreciate a visual.  That’s why Skype is such an amazing thing, and for me a highly valued semi-regular avenue for flirting.
I tend to flirt via Twitter and Kik more often than any other means, though I have been known to flirt via text and email, as well as Yahoo! Messenger, Google Hangouts, WhatsApp, and Snapchat on occasion.  Snapchat less than the others, though, as it can be hard to masturbate to a suggestive photo that disappears ten seconds after it is received.  Still, I’m not the kind of guy who can have too many options for staying in touch with the women I desire, and I’m always on the lookout for new messaging apps.
I’m guessing that it was with this knowledge in mind that our friend Curvaceous Dee recently suggested that I download Viber, a messaging and VOIP app available on a number of platforms including Android, which would allow me to use it on my phone.  I was intrigued, and told her I’d check it out.  Unfortunately, there’s no way I’m going to install and use it.
At first glance, Viber appears to be an incredibly functional app, allowing users to not only send and receive text messages but also exchange photos, video and audio, and also send and receive calls.  I can get on board for something like that; while I prefer to use Kik, there are undoubtedly many women with whom I’d like to converse regularly who use Viber instead.  Limiting myself to just a few messaging apps might be preventing me from being the most productive horny stay-at-home parent that I can be.
Before downloading Viber, and in fact before checking any reviews online, I sent out a tweet asking if any of my followers had any experience with the app.  It was originally released in December 2010, and it stood to reason that someone had used it and could address my concerns, notably whether there were any privacy issues of the sort that might prove prohibitive for an individual using it under an assumed name, such as myself. 

Persistent, aren’t they?

After installing Kik, for example, its users are prompted during the setup phase to allow the app to search their phone for Kik users amongst their contacts.  And while that’s perhaps not as creepy and Big Brotherish as the app sending a notification to people in my contacts who are using it, I still dislike it when a messaging app that I’m using with an alternate identity attempts to access my phone contacts.
In theory, even if I opt out Kik may still tell a friend who signs up in the future that I am using the app, provided the friend gives the app its allowance to check his or her contacts for Kik users.  However, Kik will not identify me by my phone number, only by my username which does not in any way correspond with my real name.  Thus, presumably it cannot be traced back to me.  I have never received a Kik message from anyone from my phone contacts, i.e. someone who I didn’t know from blogging or Twitter (hereafter referred to as “offline friends”).  
My WhatsApp account uses my real name, if only because more of my offline friends use it.  I couldn’t very well call myself jackandjillcpl or a similar pseudonym in the interest of keeping my identity secret from the handful of Twitter friends with whom I communicate using WhatsApp as that would expose my Twitter and blogging identity to the significantly higher number of offline friends.  I can only imagine the flood of questions I’d receive – likely in the form of public Facebook posts – from offline friends who are curious about the significance of my WhatsApp handle, and that’s if they don’t manage to use it to track down my Twitter account or our blog.  At any rate, in order to add someone to your WhatsApp contacts they must already be in your phone contacts, or you must be willing to add them.  
My inquiry about Viber didn’t get much response on Twitter – save one reply from ImaGodiva that validated my concern that the app identifies the user by his or her mobile phone number rather than a semi-anonymous username – so I started looking at reviews.  I didn’t get very far, however; the first one I read featured the following passage which more or less ruled out my ever using it:

“The app automatically searches your contact list for people, who are already using Viber and lists them so you can easily find them.”

To me that sounded like a major red flag, especially in light of ImaGodiva’s warning, and it had the unfortunate side effect of turning me off of the app forever.  An interview with Viber’s founder Talmon Marco stresses his privacy concerns, though that seems to be limited to long-term retention of messages and conversations as well as government eavesdropping, and not necessarily to user anonymity.
If I am using an app under a pseudonym, I don’t need said app notifying my offline friends of my usage, whether it’s a high school friend, my father-in-law, or a random business client.  At the absolute best, it might lead to an awkward conversation with the offline friend.  At worst, it might lead the offline friend to discover Jill’s and my alter-egos (or if you prefer, our secret identities).  The middle ground, one of these individuals realizing that my phone number is connected to a username such as “NorCalBBWfucker”, “Peggingfan76”, or “FurryFreak90210″*, would bode poorly as well.
Still beats having to memorize pager code.

For now I think I’ll stick to Kik, Twitter, and all the other media I mentioned in the second paragraph.  What about all of you?  Do I have it wrong?  Am I overestimating the threat to my own privacy posed by Viber?  Or am I underestimating the threat posed by Kik, et al.?  Let me know.

– Jack

*Not that I use any of these usernames.