We first read Sex at Dawn, by Christopher Ryan and Cacilda Jethá, in 2011. But such a validating, eye-opening look at psychology and sexuality deserves regular re-reads.
Masterpiece Monday
Sinful Sunday: Good Night
After a very busy week, and a weekend that has thusfar proven almost equally so, this is all we want to do.
See who else is being sinful at Molly’s Daily Kiss!
Formspring Friday: That’s the Spot
What is your single favorite place to be touched? What is your single favorite place to touch a partner?
(Submitted by Anonymous)
Jack’s Answer
I’m tempted to go the easy route and say that my single favorite place to be touched is my cock, and my single favorite place to touch a partner is her pussy. And while I’m definitely not averse to choosing the path of least resistance, the fact is that this question begs a somewhat better-thought-out answer than simply “My cock; her pussy”.
Other than my cock, my favorite place to be touched is probably my nipples. I know that there are many men, and likely women as well, for whom nipple play provides no stimulation, but for me there has always been a direct connection between my nipples and my brain’s pleasure center. As I stated in a recent TMI Tuesday, it’s as if there’s an air hose between my nipples and my cock. If we’re ever in the same room, try putting your mouth on one of my nipples and see if something doesn’t get inflated.
My favorite place to touch a partner (other than her pussy) is probably her breasts. I love breasts. I love caressing them, and I love licking and sucking them. And of course I love looking at them. It doesn’t matter the size or shape. It doesn’t matter if they’re “real” or not. My philosophy has always been that if I can touch them, they’re real.
Jill’s Answer
My favorite place to be touched is my pussy. Specifically, I love to have my clit played with, and my G-spot as well. If I could have both touched at the same time I would be really happy. Of course, that’s probably the most obvious answer I could have given, so instead I’ll go with my thighs. They’re very sensitive, and I love having them caressed while masturbating or receiving oral sex. It intensifies the pleasure to the point that orgasm is never far off.
My favorite place to touch my partner is, of course, his cock. There is nothing more erotic to me, and for that matter more powerful, than holding a hard, throbbing erection in my hand, examining it with my eyes, giving a few strokes and perhaps coaxing out a drop or two of pre-cum, and then dropping my mouth onto it. I love giving pleasure, and this is probably my favorite way to do it. However, in the interest of giving a less-obvious answer I’ll say shoulders. There’s something about a guy with strong, sexy shoulders, and for that matter chest and arms, that gets me wet.
If we are talking about a female partner, my favorite place to touch is probably her breasts. Make no mistake, I love touching a woman’s pussy. I love the way she feels on my fingers, and the way she feels and tastes on my tongue. I love making her orgasm. But I am obsessed with breasts. I do enjoy eating pussy, but the playful tease that goes along with kissing, touching, and sucking breasts is somehow an even bigger turn-on for me.
If you want to ask us a sexy question, drop us a line on Formspring, or use the handy Formspring widget on the right-hand side of our blog. To see who else participated this week, search #FormspringFriday on Twitter! If you have a Formspring account and you aren’t already participating, feel free to join in the Formspring Friday fun!
The Naughty Hangout: Reppin’ the Bay
The single theme at The Naughty Hangout this week is “Your Favorite Thing/Team”. Last Sunday we watched the Forty-Niners massacre the Buffalo Bills, while on Wednesday the Giants beat the Cincinnati Reds, thereby avoiding elimination from the playoffs. We are nothing if not loyal fans of our local teams. Here we see Jill showing her team spirit with a Niners baseball cap and a sexy red bra.
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Mouse over the image to see Jill doing the same for the Giants.
Wicked Wednesday: On Blowjobs and Bacall
“You know how to whistle, don’t you, Steve? You just put your lips together and…blow.”
Betty could hear Lauren Bacall’s voice speaking these words to Humphrey Bogart in To Have and Have Not, a black and white romance from the forties. The actress wasn’t yet twenty years old when she portrayed “Slim” Browning, her first leading role. The wife of Howard Hawks had seen her on the cover of the March 1943 issue of Harper’s Bazaar and he offered her the part as a result.
Betty was nine years old the first time she saw the film. Soccer practice was rained out and she found herself home after school. Her parents were still at work, and rather than starting her homework she ventured into the sitting room where her grandmother was watching a worn-out VHS tape on her sixteen-inch television. She sat at the old woman’s feet, wishing she could watch Nickelodeon instead. But once she saw Bogart she was smitten. And once she saw Bacall, she wanted to be her.
It was her grandmother’s favorite movie, and Lauren Bacall was her favorite movie star. In time, Betty came to love her as well, but To Have and Have Not remained her favorite film of Bacall’s entire body of work. When she was twelve years old she had her first kiss, with a boy she imagined was Bogart’s tough, sardonic Harry Morgan. Trying to appear worldly and mature beyond her years, she gave him Bacall’s iconic line but he just laughed in her face. He still kissed her, of course, but his cold dismissal really turned her off. A week later she had moved on to another boy, and then another, all in search of her leading man.
She met him in a bar in the theater district. They sat in a darkened booth, talking over gin. She spent the first ten minutes of their chat bringing to Rick’s attention the fact that he had the same name as Humphrey Bogart’s character in Casablanca and what’s more, that they had met at the Café Paris was obviously a sign because Bogart’s Rick owned the Café Américain. Of course, she was quick to point out that Casablanca was only her fourth-favorite Bogart film after The African Queen, The Treasure of the Sierra Madre, and of course, To Have and Have Not.
After another round, he asked Betty if she wanted to leave with him. They had barely left the bar before her lips found his, and as their mouths pressed together she silently rebuked herself for not trying out the line on him. His hands found her breasts, barely hidden within a silk blouse, and caressed them for all he was worth. She reciprocated by dragging the heel of her hand down his chest to where his legs met. He was aroused – so was she, of course, but his arousal was much more obvious – and she began to fumble at his belt.
They ducked into an alley where she opened his jeans. His cock sprang free, thick and heavy in her grasp, and though she couldn’t see much of it in the darkness she imagined that it was beautiful.
“You know what to do,” he said as she sank to her knes. “Just put your lips together and whistle.”
Her mouth enveloped his cock and she felt the head at the back of her throat. As she began to suck, she realized that while she’d long heard the word “whistle” and thought “blow”, she’d never heard the word “blowjob” and thought “whistle”.
This week’s prompt: “Whistle” by Flo Rida
Retro HNT: Loving the new bra…
TMI Tuesday: October 9, 2012 – Fuck Yeah It’s Random
Found at Tahra’s Random Stuff
Hey, hey, hey, hey…Time to get random again on TMI Tuesday. Why? Because it is fun to know random stuff about you; it can reveal a lot about your personality.
Jack’s Answers
1. Tell us about your sluttiest act ever.
I honestly don’t know of anything that qualifies as particularly slutty. I’ve had a lot of sex, but when I recall my past escapades, the word “slutty” doesn’t exactly come to mind. Make no mistake, I’m not ashamed of the label, and I’d wear it with pride if it actually fit. But I don’t think it does. I’m kind of sad about that, really. And that makes me think – what is “slutty”, exactly? Some people feel that if you’ve ever had non-procreative sex, you’re a slut. To this demographic, “slutty” is a pejorative best thrown at women in order to oppress them. Sane and rational people, however, understand that such terms are not necessarily negative, and that they can be applied to both genders. Sexual pleasure, after all, is a good thing. We should all strive to be sluts, or at the very least to embrace a definition of the word that truly suits us.
2. Have you ever played air-guitar. . .naked?
No. I don’t play air-guitar, clothed or otherwise. However, if I did, I’ve got to believe that it would be more fun naked (because everything is more fun naked).
Including getting arrested!
3. To what song do you most like to play air-guitar either clothed or naked?
Once again, I don’t play air-guitar. It’s not something that I see the point of doing. Seriously, what is the purpose of pretending to play the guitar without actually having one in your hands? I’m pretty sure that I’ve never – not one single time in my life – played air-guitar. However, here’s a bit of Jack trivia you might appreciate: I learned to play acoustic guitar for the purpose of playing Bob Marley’s “Redemption Song” in the hopes of getting laid in college.
4. Are you good in bed? Why?
Depends. Am I good at sex? Yes. Am I good at sleeping? No. (Hey, the question didn’t specify.) I am good at sex because I enjoy it, and I do a good job transferring my own enjoyment onto my partner by seeing to her pleasure and ensuring that she’s continually satisfied. People who enjoy sex ideally have partners who do as well. I consider myself not only a skilled lover, but a generous one as well, and it is a tremendous ego-boost to know that my partner has enjoyed herself. Why am I bad at sleeping? Mainly because I find it difficult to settle down and relax unless I have achieved everything I wanted to achieve in a given day. This is pretty much impossible; I am very driven, and often expect far too much from myself, especially now that I am a parent. Accordingly I often find myself limited to around four or five hours of sleep each night, or sometimes even less.
5. What FEELS Sexy to you–tactile sensation? (Leave sight and taste out of this)
Bare female flesh: Thighs, breasts, hips. Alternately I’d go with silk, as in my opinion this fabric is so soft and sensual and indeed so inextricably connected to sex that I find the feel of a silk handkerchief or necktie arousing.
Bonus: Write a six word autobiography.
Came from nothing; got it all.
Jill’s Answers
1. Tell us about your sluttiest act ever.
I guess it depends on what you consider slutty. I’ve fucked multiple guys within days of each other, but I don’t think that’s all that slutty. I guess I’ll go with the time that Jack fingered and fucked me at Power Exchange while other men slowly closed in on us and began to touch and grab me. I felt kinda slutty when that happened.
2. Have you ever played air-guitar. . .naked?
No, I don’t play air-guitar. Maybe some air-drums, but never air-guitar.
Once in awhile I’ve been known to do air quotes.
3. To what song do you most like to play air-guitar either clothed or naked?
None. I haven’t changed my stance on air-guitar since the last question. Although I do not play it, I will sometimes find myself drumming on the steering wheel of my car when I hear a song with a good beat. “You Shook Me All Night Long”, by AC/DC, will usually inspire a great air-drum solo.
4. Are you good in bed? Why?
Yes I am. As far as the “why”, I asked Jack and he said that I never leave him unsatisfied. I have always made a point of ensuring that my partners have everything they want or need sexually. I try to read their body language and interpret their moans, and then I use my hands and mouth (as well as my pussy as much as possible) to increase their pleasure. I feel that, since I’ve been with Jack especially, I have pushed my boundaries in order to enhance our sexual experiences and our mutual sexual pleasure.
5. What FEELS Sexy to you–tactile sensation? (Leave sight and taste out of this)
Strong shoulders. I love to rub my hands up and down Jack’s strong arms, from his forearms up to his shoulders, while he is fucking me. Of course, I love feeling his cock in my hand as well: The way it grows hard in my fingers, the way it throbs, the sensitive skin on the underside. I love touching him when he is asleep, too. He always wakes up aroused. But his shoulders are almost indescribably hot.
Bonus: Write a six word autobiography.
Sexy wife who enjoys feeling loved.
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!
Football, Fucking, and a Forgotten Guest
At the two-minute warning, the Niners were five TDs ahead.
Jill had been asking for sex since the ten-minute mark, and although it was clear that our team couldn’t lose, there was no way I was going to walk away from the game until it was clear that the Buffalo Bills were not only defeated but completely demoralized. I’m kind of fucked up like that.
Lest you come to the conclusion that I am the sort of husband who neglects his wife on any given Sunday in favor of watching sweaty guys in helmets and shoulder pads toss each other around a football field, it should be stated for the record that I was surprised, shocked even, by my wife’s ability to shift her focus from football to sex before the broadcast had concluded and the game’s victor was decided.
In a manner of speaking, the game’s victor was already decided. Buffalo had proven itself unable to score beyond a single field goal in the second quarter, and while that was three more points than the Jets had been allowed a week earlier, it seemed to us that the Bills had barely even shown up for the game.
The Niners scored a sixth touchdown in the closing minutes, and I decided a compromise was in order. Since Jill obviously had the itch so bad that she was willing to miss the end of the game, and since our daughter was sound asleep and we had a friend coming for dinner in less than an hour, I proposed that we have sex right on the living room floor in front of the television. It wasn’t an odd request; my wife, of all people, would certainly understand my need for closure. At any rate, I wasn’t sure that hearing the final plays of the game being called was conducive to my own arousal, and I acknowledged that it might very well be a turn-off.
Jill was already undressed. We moved to the center of the room, aware of the fact that our daughter snoozed peacefully on the couch right behind us. I took off my clothes, and dropped down between Jill’s legs to sate our respective desires. Just as I got started the game ended, and the network switched to the end of the Patriots game. As I began to move my tongue up and down the lips of her pussy, Jill craned her neck to watch her second-favorite team defeat Denver. Although there were mere minutes left in the game her first orgasm came before it had ended.
I devoured Jill’s pussy for a half hour, easy. By the time she’d had enough, my chin was slick and fragrant with her juices, her taste heavy on my tongue. She urged me to fuck her, first doggy style and then missionary. The soundness of our daughter’s sleep was evident from our raucous cheers after each San Francisco touchdown. By comparison, the sounds of our lovemaking were whispers.
I pulled out when I came, sending my spasming cock into Jill’s open mouth. She drew me into her throat and swallowed voraciously, my moans reaching a crescendo even as she cradled my balls and stroked my shaft with great excitement. She made sounds of desire and satisfaction, sucking me down before gasping for breath.
We stayed there for a few moments, the forgotten television playing static for all we knew or cared. Jill leaned back and rested on her elbows and I loomed over her, my still-throbbing cock hanging before her face. I exhaled deeply, still aroused, ready for more. As I gave a couple strokes I noticed drops of my cum dotting Jill’s lips and tongue as she lapped at the swollen head, desperate for one last taste.
“You want more?” I asked, stroking faster. She nodded, her eyes betraying her lust. I was already close. I could feel her tongue skimming the underside of my member, strumming it like a skilled musician. I looked down at her breasts, nipples erect with anticipation. I imagined myself climaxing all over them. But Jill had other ideas.
“Cum in my face,” she told me when my orgasm hit. I may consider myself dominant, but when given such an order I do as I’m told. Jill leaned her head back, opening her mouth and showing me the tongue that had taken most of my previous ejaculation. My second orgasm was even more intense, more fierce, than the one that came before. My knees went weak, and I found myself with nothing to steady my posture as I began to erupt.
Looking down, I saw thick jets of my cum burst forth, lashing Jill’s face just as she wanted. She made no attempt to catch it in her mouth, but every time some hit her tongue she swallowed quickly and opened her mouth again hoping for more. Her eyes were closed tightly, and as I continued to climax I stroked even harder, desperate to wring forth every last drop.
I reached for my phone, hoping to take a Twitter-worthy picture of my wife’s dripping tongue and chin. As I pressed the button the doorbell rang.
This is the shot we ended up with.
“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” she said, as I uttered a similar sentiment. We told our guest to be here at five, and it was exactly five. I assumed she’d text, maybe ask for our unit number or something. But no, there she was. Jill leapt to her feet as I moved to the intercom. I buzzed our guest into the building, unlocked the door to our condo, and followed Jill into the bedroom, carrying my clothes with me.
We hurried to get dressed, then stood at the bathroom sink, washing our faces with some sort of hand soap that smelled of fresh mint. Unsatisfied with this measure, we took a few swigs of mouthwash, and by the time we walked out our guest was none the wiser.
-Jack
Mammary Monday
Have you noticed a theme? Much like last week’s The Naughty Hangout, and yesterday’s Sinful Sunday, today’s post is all about breast cancer awareness. October is Breast Cancer Awareness Month, and we couldn’t pass up the chance to urge every woman reading this to have a regular screening to prevent or detect breast cancer. And although rare, breast cancer can affect men as well. A breast examination should be part of your regular physical.
-Jill
Sinful Sunday: How to Save a Life
Because October is Breast Cancer Awareness Month, the theme of Sinful Sunday this week is “Get Positively Pink”. As we have both been affected by breast cancer, we are pleased to have this opportunity to help raise awareness.
See who else is being sinful at Molly’s Daily Kiss!