Sunday Stealing: The Neverending Meme, Ends

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Today we ripped off a blogger named Tense Teacher of the blog Tense for a Reason. (Yes we know that we’ve ripped her off not so long ago as well. It’s pretty amazing since she stopped posting in 2007. But that’s where we live as a thief). Also, it’s long so we’ll do it in parts. She does not say where she got it from. But, it was probably stolen there as well. So, of course, that will be as far as we go. Tracing back our theft’s thieves might take some time. Take the time to comment on other player’s posts. It’s a great way to make new friends! Link back to us at Sunday Stealing!

Cheers to all of us thieves!

Jack’s Answers

36. Have you watched American Horror Story? 
No.  Someday, possibly when my daughter is in college or gets a job, I will get around to watching it.

37. Baseball hat or toque? 
Baseball hat.  I have a pretty large collection of baseball caps, but I rarely wear them.  Even though I’m a jeans (or shorts) and T-shirt kind of guy, when I wear headgear I prefer to wear what is known as a newsboy cap, as it versatile and looks good with casual clothing and semi-formal wear (or maybe it’s me).

38. Do you shampoo or soap up first in the shower?
Depends on my mood.  No two of my showers are exactly the same.  
39. Wet the toothbrush or brush dry with the toothpaste? 
I usually wet the toothbrush after applying the toothpaste.  
40. Pen or pencil?
I prefer to write in ink, as I find that over time pencil marks fade.  I have an appreciation for cheap, disposable Bic-type pens, and try to have a few on hand for taking notes, jotting down writing ideas, or doodling.  I tend to keep pencils around for sketching or drawing plans, though if I can’t find any pens I will write with a pencil.  Since our move, however, most of our writing implements have been packed, and I have found myself scrambling to find something when I need to take down a phone number or write a quick note.
41. Have you ever gambled at a casino?
Of course.  Growing up, my family was fond of taking weekend trips to Tahoe and Reno, and I generally didn’t have much fun until I was of legal age to gamble.  I’ve won a few jackpots, though nothing too significant.
42. Have you thrown up on a plane? 
No.  I’ve had sex on a plane though.
43. Have you thrown up in a car? 
Probably, though I don’t remember any specific occurrences.  I was always more likely to get queasy, usually because I was reading, and have the feeling pass without incident.
44. Have you thrown up at work? 
No.
45. Do you scream on roller coasters? 
Yeah.  I generally don’t hold my arms up though, which Jill always does.  My finely-honed survival instinct dictates that I hold on for dear life the whole time – even though I know there is little chance of being thrown from the ride.
46. How many shoes do you have? 
Let’s see:  Two pairs of general-purpose tennis shoes, one pair of running shoes, two pairs of Chuck Taylors, two pairs of flip-flops, one pair of bedroom slippers, two pairs of dress shoes in black, one pair of dress shoes in brown, one pair of black steel-toed boots, one pair of brown work boots.  Thirteen pairs, twenty-six shoes.
47. Who was your first roommate? 
My first roommate was a long-time friend who would eventually be best man at my wedding.
48. What alcoholic beverage did you drink when you got drunk for the first time? 
When I was around eleven I shared a couple wine coolers with my cousin while his parents weren’t home.  I remember feeling pretty sleepy and falling asleep on his couch.  The first honest-to-goodness bender I went on was with beer.
49. What was your first job? 

As I was planning on getting my teaching credential, I worked in a preschool, and tutored children in their homes and at schools and libraries, all pretty much simultaneously.

50. What was your first car? 
A 1970 Dodge Dart.
51. When did you go to your first funeral? 
I remember attending the funeral of a family friend when I was around fourteen.  Before age fourteen, my parents didn’t feel the need to drag me to every funeral and memorial service; presumably they left me with a babysitter or something.
52. How old were you when you first moved away from your hometown? 
I’ve lived in the same general area most of my life.  The first time I moved out of the area, I was twenty-four.  I returned home a couple years later.
53. Who was your first grade teacher? 
Miss Blake.  She was pretty horrible, though to be frank my kindergarten teacher was worse.
54. Where did you go on your first airplane ride? 
Disneyland?  I’m going to say Disneyland.  That sounds about right.
55. When you snuck out of your house for the first time, who was it with? 
Honestly, I don’t think I ever snuck out of the house.  Generally speaking, my parents gave me a decent-sized lead, without being too permissive.  Since I usually exercised good judgment – as far as they knew, anyway – I was allowed to go out when I wanted to.  And if there was something I knew they wouldn’t want me doing, like going to a certain party, well, that was the night I told them I was going to a movie with a friend, and then staying over his house.
56. Who was your first best friend and are you still friends with them? 
My first best friend was a kid I met on the first day of kindergarten.  We had a lot in common and spent much of our elementary school years hanging out together, and playing at each other’s houses.  Though we remained friends throughout junior high and high school, we didn’t stay quite as close, likely owing to the fact that he was extremely studious and I was far less so.  We’re not still in touch; I assume he is a successful engineer or scientist, while I am a stay-at-home sex blogger.
57. Where did you live the first time you moved out of your parents’ house? 
I lived in a pretty nice two-bedroom apartment.
58. Who is the first person you call when you have a bad day? 
I generally don’t have the kind of bad day that requires an emotional decompression-via-telephone-call.  If I need to bitch about something, such as the baby refusing to nap and thereby preventing me from perving to a friend’s webcam, I text Jill.
59. Whose wedding were you in the first time you were a bridesmaid or a groomsmen? 
I’ve been a groomsman quite often, but the first wedding in which I participated was my cousin’s when I was around twenty-two.
60. What is the first thing you do in the morning? 
Since it is rare for me to wake before the baby does, I generally tend to her first:  I get her dressed and feed her breakfast, and if you know how fastidious I am about personal hygiene, you know how much it pains me that I have to do any of these things before I take a shower.
61. What was the first concert you attended? 
I took the girl I was dating – the one I cheated on, as detailed here – to a concert in 1991.  It was a female R&B singer, and I am actually not surprised that I have no idea who.
62. First tattoo or piercing? 
I’ve got neither of either.
63. First celebrity crush? 
Possibly Julia Roberts?  I had a huge crush on her when I was around fourteen or fifteen, mainly because she had yet to get naked on camera.  I can’t imagine that she was my first celebrity crush, but she’s the person I immediately think of when someone says “celebrity crush.”
Jill’s Answers
36. Have you watched American Horror Story? 
No.  I’d love to have enough time to sit and watch it every week, along with Weeds, Breaking Bad, Dexter, Homeland, White Collar, and every other show that all of my friends say that I need to watch.
37. Baseball hat or toque? 
Baseball hat.  I don’t usually wear them, but I can pull off a baseball hat a lot better than I can a toque.
38. Do you shampoo or soap up first in the shower? 
I always shampoo first.  I like to let the creme rinse sit in my hair while I wash the rest of my body.  
39. Wet the toothbrush or brush dry with the toothpaste? 
I put the toothpaste on the toothbrush and then I wet it.  I don’t like the feeling of dry toothpaste in my mouth.
40. Pen or pencil?
Pencil, unless it’s a gel pen or Hi-Liter.  I don’t like writing with ball-point pens.
41. Have you ever gambled at a casino?
Hell yeah!  I do pretty well, too.
42. Have you thrown up on a plane? 
No.
43. Have you thrown up in a car? 
Yes.  I used to get car-sick a lot when I was little.  I also threw up in a car once when I had gallstones, and occasionally when drunk.  I might have done it when I was pregnant too.
44. Have you thrown up at work? 
When I was pregnant I did.  I think I did it once when I had the flu as well.  I hope all this throwing up isn’t a turn-off.
45. Do you scream on roller coasters? 
Yeah, but out of excitement, never out of fear.  I also hold my hands up the whole time.
46. How many shoes do you have? 
At least forty, although now that we’re moved into our new place I plan on weeding some out.
47. Who was your first roommate? 
My brother was my first roommate.  Until I was four years old (and he was five), we had bunk beds in the same room.  If this doesn’t count, I will go with a girl in college whose name I’d rather not give.  She was from Southern California, and we were great friends.
48. What alcoholic beverage did you drink when you got drunk for the first time? 
I’m pretty sure it was beer.  We were in high school, so you drank whatever you could get your hands on.  But my parents were known for always having lots of alcohol on hand, so it could very well have been hard liquor.
49. What was your first job?
I babysat from the age of ten, for my younger siblings and neighborhood kids.  My first payroll job was at a hot dog place at a local mall.  But not the one where the girls wear multi-colored short shorts and funky hats and make lemonade with those weird pumps that look like pogo sticks.
50. What was your first car? 
A white 1980 Toyota Corolla.  It was a stick shift.  Even though it was mine, I had to share it with my brother until he went away to college.
51. When did you go to your first funeral? 
I was probably four or five, at the oldest.  The first one I remember was about age four.  It was my great-uncle.
52. How old were you when you first moved away from your hometown? 
I moved away from my hometown for the first time at age seventeen, when I started college.
53. Who was your first grade teacher? 
Mrs. Murasco.  Spelling is approximate.  She was also my favorite teacher.  She used to let us clean the floor after school, and she’d give us pretzel sticks.  If we got ten pretzel sticks, we could trade them for a hard candy.  Or maybe a Hershey’s Kiss or a Tootsie Roll or something.  You know, maybe it was a reading group where this happened.  I’m not sure what we got for picking up trash off the floor in Mrs. Murasco’s class.  Maybe it was punishment for something.
54. Where did you go on your first airplane ride? 
I think we went to Oregon to visit my aunt and uncle.
55. When you snuck out of your house for the first time, who was it with? 
I probably snuck out to go to a party with my girlfriends.  That was the best thing about having a ground-floor bedroom: The window opened silently and I could climb right out.
56. Who was your first best friend and are you still friends with them? 
My first best friend is the person we have referred to on this blog as P.  We have known each other since the first grade, and although I don’t consider her my best friend we are still pretty close and see each other often.
57. Where did you live the first time you moved out of your parents’ house? 
I lived in Zapotec Residence Hall at San Diego State University.  
58. Who is the first person you call when you have a bad day? 
I normally call Jack.  Sometimes if I can’t call, I text him, and he texts me back.  Before long we’re exchanging really filthy texts describing in great detail what we’d like to do to each other.  That always brightens my day!
59. Whose wedding were you in the first time you were a bridesmaid or a groomsmen? 
My best friend.
60. What is the first thing you do in the morning? 
I’d like to say that I take a shower first, but realitically the first thing I do is probably go to the bathroom.
61. What was the first concert you attended? I believe it was Sha Na Na at the Circle Star Theater in San Carlos, California.  
62. First tattoo or piercing? 
For my seventh birthday, my grandmother took me to J.C. Penney’s to get my ears pierced.  I remember they had a woman there who was or used to be a nurse, and she used to do the piercing.  When I turned nineteen, my grandma took me to get my clit hood pierced.*
63. First celebrity crush? 
Michael J. Fox or Kirk Cameron.  Actually Scott Baio might have been the first, although he didn’t have the longevity of the other two.
*This last part may be creative license on the part of the editor, i.e. Jack

Hey Newt: Call it What it is

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Our Formspring Friday post this week dealt with the issue of infidelity.  In it, we mentioned that we have “unorthodox” views of monogamy.  Although Jill and I are both commited to each other emotionally, and for the most part physically as well, we would consider ourselves “monogamish”, to use a phrase coined by advice columnist and personal hero Dan Savage.

We acknowledge that physical monogamy is a difficult thing to maintain for life.  We don’t necessarily believe that human beings are wired for such a lifelong commitment.  We believe that if less of a premium was placed on physical monogamy in relationships, there would be less divorce, less unhappiness, and what the hell, probably less war and aggression in general.

This brings me to the topic of Newt Gingrich, former House Speaker and current Republican presidential candidate stumbling toward the White House on a platform of – what else – family values (i.e. traditional marriage).  While perusing EdenFantasys this morning, I stopped by SexIs and found an article pertaining to Gingrich and the recent allegations by his second wife Marianne that he requested an open marriage when she caught him having an affair with another woman.

It’s no secret that Gingrich has been a bigger threat to his own marriages than gay marriage could ever be.  By all accounts – other than those of Gingrich himself – he divorced his first wife while she was was in the hospital for the removal of a tumor, then married the woman with whom he’d been conducting an affair.  Not quite twenty years later, the process repeated itself, this time with a different illness, and a different mistress.  If the pattern repeats itself, and I imagine it will, Gingrich has already started an affair with the woman for whom he’ll leave his third wife.

I note with some amusement that, while Gingrich was calling for the impeachment of Bill Clinton for lying under oath about his involvement with Monica Lewinsky, he himself was having an affair with a younger woman who wasn’t his wife (yet).  I understand the rationalization that allows Gingrich to believe that he is a better man than Clinton, that his offense was less severe simply because he hadn’t been giving sworn testimony under oath.  But Gingrich considers himself a man of God, and has admitted not only to his extramarital affairs, but in having them, failing to live up to God’s standards.*  If God exists, the thought that He would excuse Newt for not only lying to and cheating on his wife but also treating her with the care that one reserves for a Tonka truck because he wasn’t under oath only solidifies my lack of faith.

During Thursday night’s G.O.P. debate, Gingrich lashed out at moderator John King for daring to open with a question about Gingrich’s alleged request for an open relationship.  The audience cheered Gingrich’s cagey response, even though as the article notes, the point of a debate is to answer sometimes difficult questions.  Yes, there are many other issues to discuss during a presidential debate, but this is news, and it deserved to be addressed.  Whether or not Gingrich’s former wife is telling the truth – and based on what we know of him such a request is not beyond the realm of possibility –  it could be said that Gingrich has invited such allegations by his past behavior.  
His righteous indignation may have fooled those in the audience, but not me.  I am of the opinion that when you have comported yourself in the manner that Gingrich has in his personal life while simultaneously besmirching the names of others who have done the same and then bewilderingly promoting yourself as a champion of family values, you don’t get to act like a victim.
It takes much to offend me, but I can admit to taking some offense at Gingrich’s proposal of an open marriage, and in particular, the circumstances in which it occurred.  He didn’t suggest that Marianne allow him to have sex with other women, and upon her refusal, carry on an affair anyway.  This would have been bad enough.  No, Gingrich asked for an open relationship when his wife discovered the affair – which had been ongoing for six years!  I’ll give the man credit for having balls.
But even had the arrangement been agreed to, an open marriage isn’t something you ask for as a means of justifying six years of deceit.  And it’s certainly not an ultimatum you hang over the head of a partner, with divorce on the opposite side of the coin.  As someone who would engage in an open marriage given the right set of circumstances, I don’t appreciate Gingrich co-opting the term.  Call it what it is, Newt: A vehicle to deliver you from a marriage you were no longer interested in sustaining.
*Apologies for the Fox News link.  I hope it doesn’t crash your browser.
-Jack
This post was sponsored by EdenFantasys.
Sexis - a provocative sex magazine at EdenFantasys.com

Formspring Friday: Infidelity

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While we have quite a stockpile of questions to answer on Formspring, this one really jumped out at us.  We have views of monogamy that some would consider unorthodox.  At the same time, we are completely committed to one another emotionally.  While cheating isn’t really our style, neither of us would ever judge someone for cheating.  Most people’s relationships are none of our business.

We considered opening this post with a picture of Newt Gingrich, but decided not to go the political route despite the fact that Newt seems to be the epitome of the hypocritical cheating scumbag politician.  Oh, fuck it; here he is:

Believes gay marriage is a threat to marriage itself, yet doesn’t see the irony in being a serial cheater.

Have you ever cheated on a partner?

Jack’s Answer
Yes, once.  At age sixteen, I was in my first long-term relationship.  Newly-relieved of my virginity, I was suddenly imbued with a newfound confidence.  The summer after my junior year of high school, I found myself in Southern California for a few days, as one of my parents was attending a work-related seminar.  Without much to do during the day, I met and befriended a girl whose parent was attending the same seminar.  She was my own age or very close, her name lost to time.  (This was nearly twenty years ago.)
She and I spent the first day hanging around the hotel, swimming in the pool and watching TV in her room.  On the second day, we had sex.  Unlike my girlfriend, who was sweet and very attractive but not quite as sexually imaginative as I would have liked, this girl was open-minded and experienced.  She was the first person I ever did doggy style with.  She’s the first person who ever rode me in the reverse cowgirl position.  And for that matter she was the first person who ever gave me oral sex.  My girlfriend wasn’t into any of these things.
Over the next three days, we had sex numerous times, in countless positions.  We showered together.  She asked to be spanked.  She said that she enjoyed having her ass fingered.  I didn’t indulge her on that one, as she never requested it of me, just mentioned that she was into it, and being sixteen I was too stupid to take the hint.  Beyond that, we talked about our lives, discussed our favorite movies, as well as the music we liked.  We went out to lunch.  It was nice.  I never felt anything beyond physical attraction to her, but I acknowledged that she was someone I could have considered a friend, and if we lived closer – and for that matter if I wasn’t in a relationship already – perhaps something deeper might have blossomed.  But when I left L.A. after the seminar there was no exchange of phone numbers, no promises to keep in touch.  I don’t even think there was a good-bye.
I had enjoyed the tryst; it was sexually gratifying and it left me with the sort of ego boost a geeky, sometimes awkward sixteen-year-old often needs.  But I knew that what I had done amounted to a flagrant violation of the trust that my girlfriend had in me.  Rather than unburdening myself to her, I kept silent.  I’d used condoms with the other girl, and the sex had been meaningless, so I reasoned that there was no point in upsetting her.  I found that this justified my not telling her.  In reality, however, I felt remendously guilty over my transgression.  
My girlfriend attended a different high school than I did, and our relationship was such that we didn’t see each other every day, or even talk on the phone every night.  It was 1993; cell phones weren’t the sort of thing that teenagers commonly possessed, and text messaging was about a decade away from being a familiar concept to most people.  I’d just gotten my first pager, but my girlfriend didn’t page me much as she didn’t want her parents to know that I had it, ostensibly because because pagers were associated with drug dealers at the time.
In time, my guilt gave way to paranoia that she would somehow find out, but she never did.  Ironically, I indignantly broke up with her around a year later, after she admitted to having cheated on me.  This probably wasn’t my finest hour.
Jill’s Answer
I had been dating a guy for a few months.  He was extremely self-centered, and the kind of person whose only compliments were backhanded.  I didn’t like him all that much, actually, but his friend was dating my friend, and his and my relationship sprung up out of convenience.  I guess he was pretty good in bed.
We’d gone to his friend’s house to hang out and drink.  It was him and I, the friend whose place it was, and a few others.  My boyfriend spent the whole night ignoring me while he socialized with everyone else.  His friend, on the other hand, was showing me plenty of attention.  We began to flirt back and forth, aided and abetted by lots of alcohol.  Eventually we ran out, and my boyfriend offered to walk to a nearby liquor store to get some more.  While he was gone, the flirtation continued.  
My boyfriend returned from the liquor store with a couple bottles of Jack Daniels, which he knew I didn’t like.  (I still don’t.  I would much rather drink vodka than whisky.)  I decided to have some anyway, if only to spite him.  When my boyfriend pointed out that I don’t drink Jack Daniels, I said, “Tonight I do,” and spent the next couple hours drinking Jack and Coke.
The bathroom had two doors, one leading to the hallway and the other leading to the bedroom.  I had gone to use the bathroom, and when I was finished my boyfriend’s friend came in from his bedroom.  He pretended that he didn’t realize I was in there, but quickly shut the door behind him.  He came over and kissed me, and I kissed him back.  I got very wet, not only because the friend excited me, but because I felt like I was getting back at my asshole boyfriend.  In seconds we were making out, and although I wanted things to go further right there in the bathroom, he eventually snuck back out through his bedroom.  My boyfriend had no idea.
We flirted back and forth for the rest of the evening.  As we were leaving his house, I gave him a hug good-bye.  He used this opportunity to whisper that I should come back later, and as soon as I dropped my boyfriend off at home I returned.  We had sex all night, and the friend was even better than my boyfriend was.  Not only that, but he appreciated me in ways my boyfriend never did.  He did things to my body that my boyfriend never could.  When the sun came up, I was a sweaty, quivering mess on the floor of his bedroom, satisfied in every possible way.  But so was he.
Eventually someone told my boyfriend that the other guy and I had been in the bathroom together the night of the party.  By then, of course, he and I had hooked up a few times.  My boyfriend said that he thought we should see other people.  I told him that I already was.
If you want to ask us anything, drop us a line on Formspring, or use the handy Formspring widget on the right-hand side of our blog.  We like sexy questions!

The Naughty Hangout: Move-In Madness

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This week, the main theme for The Naughty Hangout was “Zany”.  If we weren’t in the middle of a move, we might have come up with a really spectacular picture that fit the theme.  Since we couldn’t, we decided to use one of the other themes.  What better way to sum up our lives over the past week or two than “Chaos”?  But don’t take my word for it.  Our photo for this week depicts me lying in a three-foot-high pile of clothing that we brought from our old house to our new house.

We hope that by next week things have settled down a bit and we can come up with something more imaginative for the theme.

Head over to The Naughty Hangout and see who else participated this week!

-Jill

Retro HNT: Getting Ready

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“Getting Ready”, posted February 18, 2010

In 2010, we posted fifty-two straight weeks of pictures at OHNT.  We’re posting them on our blog, one per week.  They can be found here, along with background information, and all the comments they received.


TMI Tuesday: January 17, 2012 – Hoo Doo

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Happy TMI Tuesday. Let’s play Hoo Doo (Who Do?). Answer the following questions and elaborate as you wish. Your answers can be real and truthful, fun and flirty, or crazy and whacky.

Who or Who(m) do you want to:

Jack’s Answers

1. Play naked twister with?
There are many women with whom I’d enjoy a randy game of naked Twister.  In fact, there are far too many to list.  Because of this, and because I am paranoid about upsetting one of my many sexy online friends by omitting her name from said list, I’m going to cop out and say that if you’ve got boobs and I’ve ever flirted with you (or in some cases, even if I haven’t), I would play naked Twister with you.  While you had your right foot on blue and your left hand on green, and I had my left foot on yellow and my cock on red, I would be tumescent from anticipation of the sex that would follow.

2. Love?
Strange question.  I want to love my wife and my daughter, as well as certain of my relatives and close friends.  Accordingly, I do love them.  After all, it’s not as though loving someone is something one usually aspires to; if someone wishes to love another person, he or she frequently just does it.

3. Excites you beyond belief?
As written, this question reads, “Who or Who(m) do you want to excites you beyond belief?”  I presume that this question should have read “Who or Who(m) excites you beyond belief?” so I will answer it as though that was how it was written.  The person who excites me beyond belief is Jill, because she is the most exciting woman I’ve ever met.  I can’t even wrap my head around how much she turns me on, and that’s pretty much the definition of “beyond belief.”

4. Enjoy ass play with?
I guess it depends on what is meant specifically by the term “ass play”.  Are we talking about rimming?  Fingering?  Fisting?  Full-on anal sex?  For the purposes of answering this question I’m going to rule out pegging, as it’s not really my preferred form of ass play (sorry, ladies).  Regardless of the specific variety of ass play, I’m going to go with Rick Santorum.  I’m not into guys, especially hate-filled right-wing lunatics who consider homosexuality akin to bestiality and child sexual abuse.  And I really don’t want the entire world, especially Jill’s parents, to have to hear or read all the sordid details of a same-sex extra-marital dalliance in which I’ve been involved.  But it would be so worth it to play a role in shaming the former senator from Pennsylvania in front of his supporters, and hopefully killing any future political aspirations he may have.  In fact, when I was done with Santorum, I’d move on to Romney, Gingrich and Perry, just in case.

5. Shower with?
I’ve got a female friend I’ve known since childhood.  Don’t misunderstand; just because she’s been a friend for decades, that doesn’t mean I can’t or don’t have sexual feelings for her.  In our twenties, we used to be gym buddies, and would work out together once or twice a week.  When the workout was over, she went into the women’s locker room, and I went into the men’s locker room.  I wouldn’t have minded going into the same locker room, taking a steamy shower with her, making out under the hot spray, and ideally fingering her clit until she came, biting down on my shoulder to stifle her cries.  (Incidentally, the answer to #1 applies here:  If you’ve got boobs and I’ve ever flirted with you [or in some cases, even if I haven’t], I would like to shower with you.)

6. Undress?
Jill’s friend P, who we hot tubbed with on New Year’s Eve.  Of Jill’s three closest friends, she is the one who I haven’t seen naked, or been in some sort of near-sexual situation with.  She’s attractive, has a beautiful body, and hopefully once she was naked she would return the favor, and then gaze lovingly at my cock, compliment its girth, and make it touch the back of her throat.

7. Rim?
Didn’t question #4 already pertain to the ass?  I’m not engaging in ass play without rimming beforehand.  It’s just common courtesy.

8. Elope with?
No one, thanks.  I’m happily married, and while there is no shortage of people I would like to kiss, make out with, get naked with, shower with, take a bath with, get oral sex from, give oral sex to, fist, fuck, cum in, and cum on, I’m certain I will not be eloping with any of them.

Bonus: Who do you want to wake up in the arms of? Why?
I’m going with Jill.  Yeah, I know, I already wake up in her arms.  But I want to forever.  I trust that “Why?” is not a question that requires answering.

Jill’s Answers

1. Play naked twister with?
The more the merrier!  Twister is the kind of game that’s more fun with a crowd, so it stands to reason that it’s even more fun when the crowd is naked.  There’s something about a sexy tangle of naked bodies, whether they’re on a bed or a Twister mat, that gets me hot.

2. Love?
I love Jack, our daughter, and our family and friends.

3. Excites you beyond belief?
Jack excites me beyond belief.  Lots of men and women turn me on, but I’ve never been turned on by anyone to the extent that I am by Jack.  He can turn me on with a touch, a smile, or even just a look.  All  it takes is a wink and not only am I soaking wet, but my heart swells with love, desire, and contentment.

4. Enjoy ass play with?
Anyone who knows what he or she is doing would be fine with me.  That means asking for permission, and when it’s granted, using lube and going at a pace that I find comfortable.

5. Shower with?
I’d love to take a shower with our Twitter friend and former blogger 13messages, because he sometimes takes sexy pictures of himself in the shower, and it always looks very inviting.  Plus I bet he’d have no trouble getting those hard-to-reach spots on my lower back.

6. Undress?
My old college roommate’s husband would be fun to undress, especially if it leads to sex.  Even if it doesn’t, I would love to see him naked because according to his wife he has a beautiful, thick cock.  I’ve actually come very close to seeing it.  How hot would it be if I finally got to see it after stripping off all his clothes?

7. Rim?
I’ve never rimmed anybody before.  I’m not saying that I wouldn’t, just that I can’t think of anyone whose asshole I might like to lick.  I’ve looked at lots of men and thought, “I would probably suck his cock.”  I’ve never looked at a man or woman and thought, “I’d probably rim this person.”

8. Elope with?
I’m already married.  I’m not eloping with anybody.  When we were planning our wedding, though, it did occur to Jack and I that it would have been quicker, easier, and cheaper to just elope.  Then again, it wouldn’t have been as much fun.

Bonus: Who do you want to wake up in the arms of? Why?
I love waking up in Jack’s arms.  I get a euphoric feeling when I feel his embrace and realize that he is holding me protectively, his warm body against mine.  But once in awhile I would love to wake up in the arms of a beautiful woman.  Bonus points if Jack is there too.  I’ve experienced this once, and I want to do it again, as soon as possible.

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!

Moving Monday

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We are way behind on our blog reading, but we have a very good reason.  We spent this entire weekend moving into a new house.  Anyone who follows us on Twitter probably knows how busy we’ve been.  We haven’t finished moving all of our things, but as of Sunday night we are officially living at our new address.

This picture was inspired by Moving Day, a picture we posted at The Other HNT in September 2010.

-Jill

Sunday Stealing: The Neverending Meme, Part 2

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Today we ripped off a blogger named Tense Teacher of the blog Tense for a Reason. (Yes we know that we’ve ripped her off not so long ago as well. It’s pretty amazing since she stopped posting in 2007. But that’s where we live as a thief). Also, it’s long so we’ll do it in parts. She does not say where she got it from. But, it was probably stolen there as well. So, of course, that will be as far as we go. Tracing back our theft’s thieves might take some time. Take the time to comment on other player’s posts. It’s a great way to make new friends! Link back to us at Sunday Stealing!

Cheers to all of us thieves!

Jack’s Answers

21. Did you go to your high school prom? 
No.  Junior year I had surgery and was out for a pretty dramatic length of time, so much so that several people wrote “I thought you died” in my yearbook.  Senior year I opted to go to Hawaii instead.  But I did
attend homecoming.

22. Perfect time to wake up? 
When I’m finished sleeping.

23. Perfect time to go to bed? 
Unlike the previous question, this one deserves a more straightforward answer.  I am a night person, and have been one all my life.  I think the reason I stay up so late is because I need to feel like I’ve accomplished something before I can rest.  Some nights that may be completing another chapter in my ongoing writing project.  Other nights it may be seeing a movie I’ve had for awhile but haven’t gotten around to watching, cleaning up or organizing something, or some manner of household project.  Lately, it’s frequently this blog that keeps me up late.

24. Do you use your queen right away in chess? 
I play chess seldom enough that I can get away with saying that I don’t play chess.  In fact, I play chess seldom enough that have no idea at which point in the game I use my queen, or for that matter why a player might use his or her queen so early.

25. Ever been in a car accident? 
Just a few minor fender benders.  Nothing too disastrous.  When I was a kid, my mom’s car was hit one morning by a driver pulling out of his or her driveway as we were passing.  In my early twenties I backed into another car in a parking lot.  Stuff like that.

26. Closer to mom or dad…or neither? 
We answered this one in a recent post entitled “Tag! You’re It.”  The answer I gave then, which still applies a week and a half later, is:

My mom, who stayed home to raise me when I was a child.  As I now stay home to raise my own daughter, I hope that she and I will have a similarly close relationship.

27. What age is this exciting life over for you? 
Upon reading this question on Saturday afternoon, I immediately tweeted that I didn’t understand the wording.  A discussion with various Twitter friends yielded two possible explanations:  (a) At what age will you die?, and (b) When will the exciting part of your life be over?  I’ll answer both.  (a) How the hell should I know?, and (b) I don’t think my life will ever cease to be exciting.  In fact, although I had more than my share of excitement in my younger days, I think as I’ve gotten older the excitement has persisted, and perhaps even grown more profound.

28. What decade during the 20th century would you have chosen to be a teenager?
I’ll say the 1970s, because Dazed and Confused made it look awesome.  On the other hand, if the question had not specified the century, I would have said the 2000s or the 2010s, as I imagine that the ability to instantaneously send and/or receive naked pictures via smartphone would have completely recolored my entire high school experience.

29. Favorite shoes you have EVER owned? 
My black and white high-top Chuck Taylors.  I’ve owned a few pairs over the years, but my current pair is definitely my favorite.

30. Do you have an article of clothing you have had since you were in high school? 
Yes, a couple caps and neckties.  I’m sure that I no longer fit into the vast majority of the clothing that I wore in high school, although there’s probably an ancient shirt or two still hanging in a closet at my mom’s house.

31. Were you in track and field? 
No.  I didn’t do much in high school beyond show up, (occasionally) attend class, eat lunch and go home.

32. Were you ever in a school talent show?
I want to say that I was in a talent show in elementary school, though I have no idea what talent I might have demonstrated, or in fact whether this actually occurred.  In my early childhood I was more likely to come up with some sort of extravagant stage show that I would perform at home for my parents.  God, I was a dork.

33. Have you ever written in a library book?
No.  I look upon writing in a book – at least one not designed to be written in – the way some look upon desecrating the bible or the American flag.  I’m sure there was a period in my childhood wherein I might have scribbled in a book or two – my daughter certainly expresses her artistic side in this fashion, much to Jill’s and my dismay – but generally speaking I knew that books were for reading, not for writing in, and I most certainly wouldn’t have defaced in this manner a book that didn’t belong to me.

34. Allergic to?
Bullshit and whining.  Please don’t attempt to subject me to either of these things.

35. Favorite fruit? 
Tough choice.  I think I’ll go with the benevolent peach.  I’m not sure why; it’s probably not even in my top five.  But a peach really sounds good right now.

Jill’s Answers

21. Did you go to your high school prom? 
Yes.  I went with a group of friends.  We had a great time, and we all ended up crashing at a friend’s house afterwards.

22. Perfect time to wake up? 
Ten o’clock.  I usually go to bed well after midnight, and waking up at ten o’clock would give me at least eight hours of sleep.  Which I never get.

23. Perfect time to go to bed? 
I would say eleven o’clock.  I would love to be able to get to bed before midnight, but that almost never happens because I have a baby who doesn’t like to sleep, and when I finally manage to get her down, that’s my only opportunity to do things that need to be done around the house, including sex.

24. Do you use your queen right away in chess? 
No.  I don’t want anyone to take my queen, so I protect her in order to use her longer.

25. Ever been in a car accident? 
Yes.  I’ve been rear ended a few times (go ahead, make jokes), and once while in stop and go traffic I bumped the car ahead of me.

26. Closer to mom or dad…or neither? 
I’m closer to my mom, especially since I’ve become a mom myself.  Now I find myself asking my mother for advice much more often than I ever did before.

27. What age is this exciting life over for you? 
I have no idea what this question means, exactly.  It almost seems like this question was written in a foreign language and then translated poorly to English.  Jack suggests that the question might be asking when the excitement of life will end for me.  I don’t think it ever will end.  I plan on finding excitement in life forever, and where there isn’t any, I will make my own excitement.

28. What decade during the 20th century would you have chosen to be a teenager?
I would have chosen the 1950s.  It seems like a fun time.  Haven’t you seen Happy Days?  People spent their afternoons hanging out at the soda shop and dancing.  Sign me up.

29. Favorite shoes you have EVER owned? 
Probably my flip flops.  They are totally comfortable, supportive, and easy to slip on and off.  Despite the fact that I own a lot of really cute and sexy shoes, I really hate wearing anything on my feet.

30. Do you have an article of clothing you have had since you were in high school? 
Yes, my high school uniform.  The only reason I still own it is because all of my friends signed it on the last day of school.  It’s been in storage for years.

31. Were you in track and field? 
No.  I played softball instead.

32. Were you ever in a school talent show?
No.  Although I was, and still am, very talented, I was way too shy back then.

33. Have you ever written in a library book?
No I haven’t, although I have written in college textbooks that I owned.

34. Allergic to?
Nothing, as far as I know.

35. Favorite fruit? 
I love so many that it’s hard to decide on one single fruit, but I’ll say watermelon.  It’s sweet, juicy, and refreshing.  Watermelon always reminds me of summer.

Sinful Sunday: On the Balcony

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We’ve been here before.  I remember the cool night air on my skin.  I remember the quiet chirp of the crickets.  I remember the way your body felt against mine.  I remember your hands on my hips.

I’m waiting for you.

(Click!)



Facial Expression

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Jack says that the longest distance he’s ever traveled is the two feet from my pussy to my face.

It’s not that far a distance, actually, but it seems like miles when he’s a second away from cumming and he’s trying to reach my mouth.  About sixty-five percent of the time when we’re having sex, I take Jack in my mouth as he cums.  It’s really exciting for both of us, I love the way he tastes, and since he enjoys being stimulated through his orgasm, I usually manage to keep him hard so that, time permitting, we can have another round.

Twenty-five of the remaining thirty-five percent of the time, Jack cums on me.  If we’re doing doggy-style, he usually cums on my ass or down my back.  If we’re doing missionary, he cums on my stomach or my breasts.  I like the way it feels, and when it’s on my breasts I find it fun to play with.  Plus I can usually coax him into the shower with me.

The remaining ten percent of the time, Jack cums inside me.  Hearing him groan with release and feeling him collapse against me as he fills me up is the pinnacle of closeness and pleasure, and although I am on birth control we are definitely not ready for baby #2.  Thus ever since our daughter was born, having Jack cum inside me has become a sort of “special occasion” treat.  I loved the year between when we started trying to conceive and when our daughter was born, because he pumped a lot of cum into me.

One thing we don’t do all that often, though, are facials.  It’s not that I find them degrading, personally.  (As much as I enjoy it when he cums on my breasts or my ass, I don’t think I could get away with claiming degradation when he cums on my face anyway.)  We don’t do facials much because neither one of us really sees the point of them.  Sure, a lot of guys find it hot to see the face of their lover drenched in cum, but if Jack is that close to my mouth, I’m probably just going to have him cum in my mouth.

I once dated a guy who liked giving facials because he felt that a woman letting him cum on her face was the ideal declaration of acceptance.  While this is certainly sweeter than it would be if he got off on demeaning women, I never understood how a facial could express acceptance better than swallowing.  I came across this article on Jezebel, entitled, “He Wants to Jizz on Your Face, but Not Why You Think”.

“Facials are degrading — and that’s why they’re so hot.” So says America’s leading sex columnist Dan Savage about the act of ejaculating semen on to someone’s face. But the appeal of the facial can’t be summed up with that single term. Rather, this act that’s become the standard coda in porn is about much more than the longing to dominate or humiliate a sex partner. Understanding what makes it such a ubiquitous trope in adult movies (and in people’s private sexual lives) means understanding a particularly male longing for acceptance.

Anti-pornography activists like Gail Dines and Robert Jensen agree with at least Savage’s first three words; in recent works, both have cited the growing popularity of the “facial” as proof of the misogyny of mainstream pornography. On the other end of the ideological spectrum, sex-positive feminist Clarisse Thorn wrote for Jezebel in May that “facials feel really degrading to me.” Despite their divergent politics, Savage, Dines, Jensen and Thorn all use the same word – “degrading” – for facials, providing a strikingly rare example of consensus in contemporary sex writing.

The facial has a relatively recent history. In an interview, sex educator Charlie Glickman told me that early stag movies never showed ejaculation; if men ejaculated at all, they did so inside women’s bodies. (It’s remarkable that the porn that still features ejaculation in the vagina is now a relatively small niche known as “creampie.”) That changed in the 1970s, when porn movies became longer, scripted features with bigger budgets. Since there would be more than one sex romp in the film, external ejaculation was the mark that a specific scene had ended. Porn historian Linda Williams compares this to the way that songs were spaced out in Hollywood musicals, with kitschy dialogue in between the showcase numbers that were the centerpieces of the films. But in the ‘70s and ‘80s, most of these ejaculations were onto backs, butts, or breasts — hardly ever onto faces.

Glickman suggests that the AIDS crisis and the concern with safer sex was what made the facial popular. “Cum on me, not in me” was a popular sex educator slogan as far back as the late 1980s. Ejaculating on a woman’s stomach, however, usually meant that the camera wouldn’t let the audience see the actress’ expression. But if the male actor came on her face, the viewer could see two things at once: evidence of male pleasure (symbolized by the ejaculation) and the equally important sign that a woman’s reaction to that pleasure mattered. With sex now so dangerous — and HIV particularly likely to be spread through semen — facials were relatively “safe.” But in the era of AIDS, they were also compelling visual evidence that a woman wasn’t threatened by a man’s semen. In that sense facials were, almost from the start, more about women’s acceptance of men’s bodies than about women’s degradation.

The sheer amount of porn featuring facial cumshots is so vast that it’s impossible to imagine an exhaustive analysis of all of it. But two things seem clear. First, as Megan Andelloux (founder and director of Center for Sexual Pleasure and Health) noted in an interview with me, questions from college students about facials have risen dramatically in recent years. This isn’t something people are just watching porn stars do; it’s something a lot of young men (and some young women) want to try themselves. Second, as Glickman — a former adult film reviewer —pointed out, a lot more straight porn features women happily accepting facials than reacting with disgust and evident humiliation. That acceptance may be feigned, but it suggests that the primary turn-on about facials for men isn’t the desire to degrade women. (Glickman further suggested that the fact that facials are also so common in gay male pornography – where the sexual politics are radically different – argues against the assumption that coming on someone’s face is rooted in men’s misogyny.)

A few years ago, in a humanities course on the body, my class was discussing one of the most famous selections from the now-iconic Vagina Monologues, “Because He Liked to Look at It”. The monologue tells the story of a woman who thought her vagina was “incredibly ugly” until she meets a man named Bob, who loves to stare at —and taste — her vulva with delight and wonder. Bob’s embrace of her body is the key to her self-acceptance. During our discussion of the monologue, a male student noted bravely that he thought many men felt the same way about their penises. Perhaps, he suggested, the intense appeal of facials in porn (and real life) was about men’s desire for that same experience of being validated as desirable, as good, as “not dirty.” For a young man raised with the sense that his body – and especially his penis – is “disgusting”, a woman’s willingness to accept a facial is an intensely powerful source of affirmation.

In my conversations with Glickman and Andelloux, I shared this anecdote. Both agreed that rather than seeing the facial as rooted in the impulse to denigrate, it might indeed be better to view it as longing for approval. Andelloux pointed out that in her experience, many women (often with good reason) have a difficult time believing that degradation isn’t at the root of straight men’s fascination with facials. In any case, humiliation and affirmation aren’t incompatible reactions to the same act; a feeling of indignity when your partner ejaculates on your face isn’t contingent on his intending to demean you. No one should be obligated to endure humiliation for the sake of someone else’s longing for validation.

At the same time (as perhaps with anal sex), many people struggle to believe that receiving a facial is something a woman could enjoy. Andelloux told me a story about a seminar she ran recently on a college campus during which a young woman shared that she experienced her first orgasm when her boyfriend came on her face. “Nothing else that was said that day shocked the audience so much. I could tell a lot of people didn’t believe her. But I did.” Andelloux remarked that some other women reacted with hostility, “as if by admitting a liking for facials, she was committing an act of violence against other women.” In the era of porn wars, perhaps not even anal sex is as politicized as the question of where the ejaculate lands.

That classroom discussion about facials and the Vagina Monologues had an unforgettable finish. A female student turned to the guy who’d brought up the topic of semen and validation and asked him, “So you’re saying that when a man comes on a woman’s face, it’s not about making her dirty — it’s about making him feel clean?” The young man blushed, the class tittered. “Yes,” he said, “that’s it. And that’s what makes it so hot.”

Hugo Schwyzer is a professor of gender studies and history at Pasadena City College and a nationally-known speaker on sex, relationships, and masculinity. You can see more of his work at his eponymous site.

I have a problem with the suggestion made by anti-pornography activists that the facial is proof of the misogyny of mainstream porn.  Beyond Charlie Glickman’s argument that facials occur in gay male porn, I can say as a longtime porn viewer that I’ve definitely seen more scenes in which women happily accept facials than I have scenes in which the tone is one of malice, force, or degradation.
I am willing to acknowledge that, as stated in the comment section following the article, some porn films feature rape scenes in which a woman goes from struggling victim to willing participant, and accordingly there are probably porn films wherein a woman gleefully receives a facial because, as one commenter suggests, she wants the degradation, or else because her willingness serves to enhance her partner’s pleasure.  
However, given all that we know about the varied spectrum of human sexuality, I find it unconscionable to assert that no woman could possibly feel aroused by such an act of submission, or that what excites or arouses any one individual is somehow tantamount to the betrayal of an entire gender.  The hostile reactions of the women in Megan Andelloux’s seminar, described in the article, are upsetting to me because, while I understand that all humans are different and have differing tastes, I will not make excuses for the things, sexual or otherwise, that I enjoy.
Why pick on facials?  Is the act of taking a face-full of semen any more controversial than much of what goes on in mainstream porn these days?  Too often lately, it seems like actresses in porn films are being directed to look disgusted, or even afraid.  Or, possibly, they look this way because this is genuinely how they feel while performing.  Either way, it doesn’t turn me on to watch an actress who doesn’t look like she is enjoying every minute.
One thing in mainstream porn that squicks me a lot more than facials is all the spitting.  I’m not the sort of person who goes out of her way to be negative, but I’ll gladly watch a scene with a facial long before I ever watch a scene in which a guy spits all over a woman’s pussy, or worse, her face.  Sorry, I’ve got a thing about spit.  It just grosses me out.  And unlike facials, I can’t watch a guy spit on a woman without feeling like she’s being degraded.
Is the degradation part of the appeal of facials?  I suppose that for some givers as well as some recipients, likely including those who practice BDSM, it is.  However, the article calls facials “compelling visual evidence that a woman [isn’t] threatened by a man’s semen.”  In light of this, could facials somehow be seen as empowering?  
I can also buy the acceptance factor as well.  It is perfectly understandable that a man might appreciate a woman who is willing, or perhaps even eager, to do something traditionally viewed as demeaning.  What might once have been seen almost universally as a method of achieving dominance over someone is now seen by some as the ultimate gesture of love and intimacy.  
Of course, I think it’s much more of a gesture to just swallow.
-Jill