Once again, a Lady Ristretto short story produced by the dirty minds at dirtybitpodcast...
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Who wouldn't want to hear in detail what it's like to fuck a lesbian virgin?
"Look at me"
Ten years ago I had an encounter with a young alcoholic who was fluent in Greek and Latin and had a passion for Classical Studies. He wooed me with ancient Roman artifacts, Absinthe from France and cannabis vodka. He had me at "alcoholic".
I knew it was a brief, fleeting encounter and though I could want more, I wanted to keep it "professional" (for lack of a better word) and remain distant, almost platonic. But during our encounter, when we had almost reached the apex of our "relationship", he asked me to look him in the eyes. And I did. And it changed everything. It was unfair, a low blow, and suddenly I started to think of him not as a mechanism or device, but as a human being who shared many of my interests and could have intelligent conversations and had an ample supply of absinthe.
Which brings us to the above porno gif: looking someone in the eyes changes the meaning of the encounter. Porn isn't about connection of minds, but the connection of genitals. Erotica involves eyes and artifacts and illegal vodkas. Porn doesn't need to be about personalities, no more than a toilet needs to have a heated seat to work.
But Erotica, good Erotica, Erotica with a capital "E", needs extreme, aggressive eye contact. We need fluttering eyelashes, wayward glances, and seductively drooping eyelids. Erotica is that moment when the man/woman asks their partner in the encounter to look them in the eyes, thereby changing and disrupting and making wonderful everything.
(As for the alcoholic, I bought a copy of Inferno to read, as it was his favorite and called him the next day. No answer, no return call, and I felt really, really, stupid. But I learned that men need to keep their eyes to themselves.)
Set in Pompeii during the years leading up to the eruption of Vesuvius, this full length novel follows the lives of prostitutes and politicians, gladiators and slaves, the elite an the nouveau riche. Their lives intertwine and the choices they make lead to the destruction of Pompeii.
Coming soon to Nook and Kindle.
"Now," I reached over and took the iron. I showed it to him, held it close to his face so he could feel the heat. "Why is this going to happen?"
He made some sort of excuse about the oven cleaner. I moved the iron closer and said, "No, it's not about the oven cleaner. What is it really about?"
"I disappointed you."
I smiled and squealed. "Good boy! And what will you do in the future?"
"Everything you want, exactly how you want it."
I was so excited I laughed with joy. It was time. I let the iron steam against the side of his face. He yelped, but more from being startled than from pain.
"We'll begin with ten seconds. You can handle that easily, right?"
He nodded vigorously. I pressed the towel over his cock, and then pressed the iron on it. I started breathing faster---but no, I must calm down. I must not peak in my pleasure too soon. I was already soaking wet, but that wasn't important.
Five, six, seven, eight...
He squirmed and moaned, tensing his body and pulling on his restraints. I knew where he was: he was approaching pain, in the throes of discomfort. He was more afraid than suffering. The suffering would come later.
The first moments always took me back to my childhood when, for reasons beyond the eight year old me, I would spank the dogs of our neighbors, punishing them by locking them in closets. I was completely confused by this deep, exquisite pleasure and was helpless before it. I remember so many moments when I felt compelled, as if by an outside force, to take my pleasure in these ways.
I figured it all out eventually, after shedding the shame that coupled the confusion. I wasn't confused now. I knew exactly what I was doing.
Let me begin with the Wikipedia definition:
"Futanari is the Japanese word for hermaphroditism, which is also used in a broader sense for androgyny...Beyond Japan the term is used to describe a commonly pornographic genre of computer games, comics and animations, which includes characters that show both primary sexual characteristics. In today's language it refers almost exclusively to characters who have an overall feminine appearance."
And now an illustration:
Why delve into this subject? I took on the assignment of writing a futanari gangbang and I had very little knowledge of the subject (I'm not into anime beyond the sublime and disturbing Attack On Titan). But it moves beyond seeing drawings of chicks with dicks. It's about the more complicated meaning.
The penises are at times ample, and surprisingly at times small. The breasts always seem to be enormous and the women themselves extremely feminine. If it wasn't for the exposure of the penis, it would be impossible to predict that such a woman would have both sexes. It becomes then about the juxtaposition of both sexes, but with the rejection of masculinity. The women retain all the appeal of their femininity and all its power, while having the penetrating, aggressive power of male sexuality. It creates a kind of femininity that expresses its power through penetration, rather than the more passive power of female sexuality.
This appeals to men who wish to be dominated by women; in my instance, the male figure is gang raped, humiliated and abused (as per request). It is a BDSM dynamic, absent the dominatrix who assumes masculinity in her manner and approach, even if wearing feminine attire.
This is a form of hermaphroditism, or intersexism which is more culturally appropriate today, that our culture cannot grasp outside of rare, fetishised porn. It is a form of femininity and a reinvention of male genitalia that is refreshing.
Now, to my gang bang.
His hand touched my hair and I knew he was awake. I glanced up at him through the water: my long red hair floated through the water like clouds, distorting my view of him. I knew I had to work fast and I sucked his cock harder. I didn't want to give it up. It was so rare to find a human male isolated and vulnerable.
And no one in the ocean has ever excited me like a human male. I am so ashamed to say, I don't feel excited by anyone except human males. It is so criticized and forbidden and I would be mocked and ridiculed and shunned if anyone discovered me doing this.
Part of the danger of doing this was if he woke up. He could stop me, grab me and force me onto land, cage me and take me away to one of their labs we've heard about and have me cut up and eventually fed to them in a restaurant where they eat all kinds of sea creatures.
I suck him harder and harder, and I can tell by the muscles in his legs, how his thighs tense that he is close.
I wonder if I should feel guilty, forcing myself on him like this, making him cum at my . desire. I don't care. I'm too close myself. As his cock touches the back of my throat and slide over my tongue, I get closer and closer to my own orgasm. I can't help my body as it straightens out in the water. My tail rises and falls in the water. I make waves that wash over him. I'm quite longer than him, I realize. I could crush him if I had to.
This excites me even more. I lift him out of the water and further up onto the beach. I want to feel the sun drying and warming my skin. I want to feel my hair hanging heavy and dripping around my face. He looks very startled by me, especially when he realizes that my tongue and lips have the same lavender/emerald scale pattern that my body has. I tell him to touch my breasts and he looks confused. I don't know how to speak his language, so I put one of his hands on my breast and instantly moan and giggle from the stimulation. He understands immediately.
He touched my other and I let out a high pitched, excited sound that he wouldn't ever have heard before. I go back down on his cock and he moans and pinches my nipples and squeezes my breasts. Then his hands move all over my arms and shoulders as I suck him. It's overwhelming and so stimulating I have to stop my sucking because I cannot concentrate. I use my hand on him and he makes similar noises. I think we understand each other now. We have found our own language. I stroke him and he strokes my neck and my hair (I had no idea my hair was so sensitive!). We stroke to our own rhythm. It isn't rushed, but slow, savouring, enjoying this while it lasts. We get closer and closer to cumming, and when I'm extremely close, I know he is as well and I shove his cock deep in my throat. He cums almost instantly and shoots the top of my mouth and down my throat and the sensation pushed me over the edge. I pulled my head off him at the right moment and howled so loudly seagulls screamed and took to the air.
He lay back in the sand, breathing heavily. I wasn't completely recovered, but I became suddenly panicked that he might turn on me. Unusually, I wanted to stay and try to communicate further with him, but the danger was unfortunately real and serious. I slid off the beach and jumped into the water, my tail coming down with a fierce pound that sent a wave crashing over him. By the time he looked, I was gone.
We've all heard about it, perhaps even looked at some of it online. I heard a rumor that real Disney animators made Disney porn on the side, secretly, and it was available out there in World Wide Web Land. I'd never seen it.
This is making Disney adult, and on par with Barbie art and sexualizing the doll (which I discussed several blogs ago). But it has an added element of childhood. It cannot be ignored, as much as we wish because it is so uncomfortable and dangerous. But these cartoon characters are those which we embraced as children and let our children embrace. This becomes a sexualizing of childhood, of making our innocent years something much more.
But children ARE sexual creatures. I've had many friends tell me about their masturbation experiences and sexual acts between the ages of five and twelve. It should not be at all shocking that children are attracted to Ariel, Belle and Snow White. That children would have similar, yet much more ignorant, sexual fantasies as we would. Perhaps the appeal of Disney porn is not that it's so shocking, but that it's so comfortable---it speaks to the elementary sexual creature that we were, and explodes it into all it's splendor.
Now I was rock hard. I'm ashamed to say. I felt entirely helpless to my feelings. I felt possessed by a voracious demon. What made this so much worse was that she had just sent this. And she was in her bedroom upstairs right now.
I didn't think. I did what any man would do having received this kind of pic from a young sexy woman. I pulled my cock out and snapped a pic of me rubbing it. I sent it immediately. I then jumped up and went to the kitchen. I found the bottle of Crown in the freezer and took a large icy swig.
My phone vibrated. A reply already.
I wish I could suck on that right now.
I dropped my phone. I took another swig. What was wrong with me? I had never lusted after my daughter.
I've been extraordinarily open minded about sex ever since my first year in college, when I learned women could have orgasms. (I was a late bloomer in high school.) Nothing shocks me. All of it interests me. I can never get enough of it.
All of the pics in my blog are stolen/borrowed from other websites. I consider myself not really a thief, but a pirate. Arrrrrrr!!!
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