Sex Play
What are your favorite sexual activities that don't involve penetration? (massage, oral sex, mutual masturbation, etc.)
Chartered accountancy. No wait, that involves penetration. I enjoy coating myself in a thin film of 30 weight motor oil and standing naked by the road where passing motorists can slap my penis at 35 to 40 mph. I read about it in Readers Digest.
What types of online sexual entertainment or communication do you enjoy? (cybersex, chat, reading/writing erotica, etc.)
Asking Jeeves dirty questions. Reloading the excite.com home page over and over and over. Getting into a wild sex chat with Eliza.
Please describe your experiences with sexual power play.
I tried to dominate and utterly humiliate a woman once, breaking her spirit and bonding her obedience to me forever, but she was on a different bus and didn't see me.
Penetration
Please describe what types of vaginal and/or anal penetration (fingers, fist, penis, dildo, plug, vibrator, anal beads, etc.) you particularly enjoy.
Fingers, at least 12. An entire George Foreman grill, with burgers. A small micro cassette recorder, so I can play tapes of Sousa marches on it and confound passersby. A souvenir Statue of Liberty model, life size, with tourists. Oh yeah, and Batman.
What are your favorite positions for penetration?
On my back, held aloft by six young maidens of virtue pure. Or doggie style, whatever works.
Do you use lubricant; why or why not? If you do, what type do you prefer?
Hell yes, otherwise she'd get a good look at my actual penis. I use whale fat, because the dogs just won't stop licking it.
Sex Toys
Please describe your most enjoyable, amusing and/or disappointing experience with a sex toy.
That would be the Bellows Incident, and I am forbidden by my vows to speak of it.
What sex toys do you wish existed?
A blowup doll the size of a Macy's Day Parade float, just so I can watch it float down 5th Avenue, deep-throating lampposts and hapless drum majors.
Fantasies
Please describe your (current) favorite fantasy.
I did dream that seven cows, fat-fleshed and well favoured, were standing in a meadow. And, behold, seven other cows came up after them, poor and very ill favoured and leanfleshed, such as I never saw in all the land of Egypt for badness. And the lean and the ill favoured cows did eat up the first seven fat cows. And then they all screwed.
Have you identified certain recurring themes in your fantasies, or have your fantasies changed over your lifetime?
Hot dog buns are invariably involved, as are washing machine filters and blonde customs officials (has to be blonde). Oh, and lots of blowjobs. And Batman.
What specific books, magazines or videos reliably fuel your fantasies?
Small Farm Today, and the movie Unforgiven.
Communication
What have been some of the most difficult subjects to raise with a sexual partner?
My growing attraction for her best friend, her younger sister, and her mom (woo!), my intricate series of supportive undergarments, and my desire for her to lie there perfectly still and pretend that she's just been exhumed.
What techniques have you found to be most (and least) successful in discussing sex with a partner?
I find that imprisoning a lover into a dark, soundproofed room and withholding food and water for a few days makes one surprisingly eager and accepting of just about any sexual act, no matter how depraved or sickening, as long as she gives me a blessed drink of… I mean, as long as one gives one’s lover a drink of water and maybe a ham sandwich.
Safer Sex
Please describe your experience with safer sex accessories (condoms, dams, gloves, saran wrap, etc.). If you do not practice safer sex, please tell us why you don't.
I find that by dipping my genitals in plaster I can avoid all but the most stubborn pathogens. For my lovers, I insist on using dental dams constructed of boiled leather and brass, strong enough to turn a sword thrust. What is lost in sensation is more than made up for in peace of mind. I don't use gloves though, that's going too far.
How has your attitude about safer sex changed (or not) over your lifetime?
Where I used to merrily copulate with everyone I met in the clinic, now I have become terrified of random airborne STDs and wear a deep-sea diver's suit at all times.
Miscellaneous
Is there any other specific question or issue you'd like us to address?
I think it's be really interesting if you asked a lot of women how discriminating they are, how easy it is to seduce them (with sure fire examples), and what their home phones numbers and evenings schedules are.
If you've already read The Good Vibrations Guide to Sex, what comments and/or feedback do you have for us?
Did you guys really try all that stuff? Even the icky stuff? I mean, ewww.
Remember, head to www.goodvibes.com and give 'em your own, hopefully more useful answers. There are lots of people in the world that will get their sexual information from the answers you provide, and if that doesn't scare the bejesus out of you nothing will.
Note: the survey is, sadly, completed, but you should pick up The Good Vibrations Guide to Sex anyway and see what we’ve wrought.
(Survey questions reprinted from The Good Vibrations Guide to Sex by Anne Semans and Cathy Winks, copyright 2002, with permission of Cleis Press)
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My New Year's Resolutions
We got past another one. Another holiday filled with rampant consumerism, family squabbles, gift imbalances, too much food, too many last-minute K-Mart presents, and a happy yet vaguely disappointed feeling. No wonder I love it.
And now we're just in time for another man-made festive occasion: New Year's! Unless of course you're Jewish, Moslem, Hindu, Chinese, or a member of any of the other minorities that make up a majority of the people on the earth, and apparently they don't count.
This is the time of year when we think fondly back on all the things we've accomplished over the last year, have a drink, and then solemnly vow to never do any of them ever again. Usually the way it works is that you have some vague ideas about stuff you should do better. Then you wake up on New Year's afternoon in a puddle of what you really, really hope is your own vomit, and you are convinced to the sticky bottom of your soul that you have to hurry up and be a better person or else God will get you for what you think you did last night, so you'd better do some pushups or something. Self-help motivation is a wonderful thing. Ready? Let's begin.
* I resolve to stop treating women like pieces of meat without feelings or aspirations or hopes or dreams, because when I do that they get all pissy and won't let me stick my hand in their shirts.
* I resolve to ease up on using the left hand all the time. This is the year for Mr. Righty!
* I resolve to never try to use transmission fluid that way again, no matter how dire the need.
* I resolve to do my very best to avoid resting my testicles on a radiator.
* I resolve to never again fire live rounds at anyone that hasn't specifically asked me to.
* I resolve to do my very best to avoid resting my testicles on a Shriner.
* I resolve to go to the gym at least three days a week, or however often the blonde in the Nike shorts and the not-quite-big-enough t-shirt shows up.
* I resolve to do my very best to avoid resting my testicles.
* I resolve to never again think that people with cell phones are “asking for it.”
* I resolve to treat every other living soul I meet exactly as I would wish to be treated, i.e. by pulling down their pants and going down on them, no matter when or where I meet them, and no matter what service may be going on at the time.
* I resolve to read the dosages much more carefully from now on.
* I resolve to stop yelling, “Sit the fuck down!” during Saturday morning library storybook time.
* I resolve to rent at least one movie a week that doesn't include the word “cockmaster” in the title. Or the description. Or the credits. Or in Roger Ebert's review.
* I resolve to stop training my dog to attack anyone wearing a tie.
* I resolve to stop masturbating so much during PTA meetings, at least until they bring out the little cookies.
* I resolve to give the psychiatric interns a bit more slack next time.
* I resolve to stop firing off the fire extinguishers in movie theaters, no matter how much those bastards in the back rows deserve it.
* I resolve to stop calling Sunday morning prayer radio shows to request “Smack My Bitch Up.”
* I resolve to always, always, always make sure the person I'm cybersexing is really female, of age, and not affiliated with any law enforcement agencies. Fool me once, shame on you…
* I resolve to observe all applicable restraining orders, no matter how inconvenient.
* I resolve to stop thinking of Jehovah's Witnesses as mere receptacles for my lust.
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What It Was, Was Porno
I guess if'n you had to pick a beginnin’, it'd be that Saturday night at the lodge when Fat Jimmy brought in a brand new porno tape for us to watch. Now, I want you to know we ain’t all perverts or nuthin, it wasn't no regular thing with us. Most regular thing was drinkin' an' fightin' over sports and generally carryin' on, and then drivin’ home the fellas what got outside a few drops too many or makin’ ‘em comfortable wherever they lay. But on the occasional Saturday night, when spirits are runnin’ especially high, one of us’ll call out to whoever’s closest to the TV to stick in one of them nudie tapes, and we’ll all pull up chairs and watch it.
We get pretty rowdy them nights, calling out suggestions and general comments, but since we’ve had those same four tapes for pretty near 10 years now there weren’t much new for us to offer. We all knew all the words, such as they was, and we’d call ‘em out during the show in a chorus. Last year one of ‘them tapes broke, just snapped in two, and you ain’t never seen a more sorrowful buncha fellers in your life, I’m tellin’ you. We still got the box but it just ain’t the same.
Anyway, when Fat Jimmy bust in the room holdin’ a new tape over his head like a bowlin’ trophy, we was ready to elect him Mayor and two council seats besides. Everybody slapped him on the back like he was a returnin’ astronaut, and then they grabbed a drink and a seat around the TV while he did the honors. It was just’ like meetin’ a new pretty girl, only without all the datin’ and food and stuff. A couple of the fellas even sat up straighter and ran their hands through their hair. The movie started, the credits rolled, and then all that hootin’ and a’hollerin’ that we had ready to go just stopped up in our throats because we was all too surprised to see that the girl on this tape was a real girl. I mean, those other’n were real girls too, but they was all made up and spiffed up and painted up and looked more like showfolk than anything else. Watching them commingle was entertainment, pure and simple. But this here was more like peeping, like watchin’ neighbors through their winders, and it was a whole different experience I can tell you. Apart from Bo Wilson I’m pretty sure none of us ever did that before, peeped I mean, and he swears he stopped it cold last Palm Sunday. We didn’t yell once during the entire production, we just watched it right through like little kids at the picture show and then we sat there, poleaxed.
Fat Jimmy, he sez “Good God A’mighty,” and he picked up the video box to look at it. It said something like “Amateur Sex Slutz” on it, with a “z” for the “s” so’s you’d know it was real uptown, and the pictures on the box didn’t do justice to what we had just seen.
Now I cain’t rightly speak for everyone, but this was the first ay-dult movie I’d ever seen that made me feel dirty, or got a rise out of my britches either, and friend, I wasn’t too sure yet what I thought about that. From the looks of the other men in the room I wasn’t alone, and all I could think of was that I was powerful glad I was married and had a chance to put this somewheres tonight, ‘cause otherwise there wouldn’t be a safe knothole for twenty miles around. I felt sorry for some of the fellers, I did, but it had just become every man for hisself and I had somewheres I needed to be and so I left without even grabbing my hat.
My wife Junie was used to me stumbling home after a lodge meetin’ but I do think she was surprised at what I brung home with me, and we put it to good use as soon as we could get most of the way upstairs. I fell asleep tired and happy and didn’t think much about the tape until a few days later when Henry Vanderkin run me down outside Hattie’s Diner.
I had just brought the truck in to get the timing belt looked at and thought I’d swing by Hattie’s for a slice of one o’ her famous blueberry pies, when Henry calls out to me from down the street. Now Henry’s all right if you don’t mind him. He’s a mountain boy seven generations back, good-natured in an exasperatin’ sort of way, but ever since he got cable and the intranet he’s had wild ideas about how to do things. Cain’t rightly say he’s wrong, neither, but he does wear on a body sometimes. He catches up to me and he sez, “Ollie, can I talk to you a minute?”
I told him I didn’t mind as long as he didn’t mind sharing my attention with a pie, and that sounded right good to him. We went into Hattie’s and bless her, she had pie waiting for both of us and with ice cream on the tops of each one without us even asking for it. I swear, if I ever get to Heaven and Hattie ain’t there, I’m gone turn right around and walk out and take my business elsewhere. We tucked into that pie like there was money at the bottom, and after things settled a bit Henry come out with his proposition.
Henry sez, “You remember that tape we watched?” I allowed as how I did. He sez, “It strike you any different from them others we got?” I allowed as how it had. He just smiled and told me that it had burned a hole in everbody else’s britches too, and that in the three days since its debut that video had been run about thirty times and that some of the fellas without wives or girlfriends was watching it and lockin’ the door, which had always been against lodge rules on account o’ we don’t want to do any more floor-mopping than was absolutely necessary.
I sez, “It sounds like that tape’s gone get wore out faster than Bo Wilson’s zipper, although that might be a close race, at that.”
Henry sez, “I been researchin’ this on the intranet, and I got me an idee how we can make some money.” Now friend, I have to admit that money sounded right good to me just then. Farmin’ subsidies only go so far into a community and I didn’t have the best farm in the world to start with. Pretty near everybody in town got by, just like I did, but wasn’t none of us what you’d call well off. I figgered Henry had a mail-order scheme in mind, or maybe trying to sell everybody their own VCRs and porno tapes, but it turned out that I was guessin’ low. Henry come out with, “I think we can make our own ay-dult movie and sell it.”
It’s a good thing he waited ‘til after I et my pie, because otherwise I’da smushed it when my chin hit the counter. I sez, “You want us to what?” He sez, make our own porno-type movie. “That’s what I thought you said, I just couldn’t believe you’d say it twice in the same day. Look around you, Henry, have you ever seen an ay-dult movie look like this?”
This is where Henry got that big grin, the one that always loses him all his money on poker night, and he sez, “Nope, I surely haven’t. And that’s why we have to do it.” Henry explained that amachure tapes like the one we saw had really blown the foam off the ay-dult film industry. Here they were, using these fancy sets and extravagant costumes and high-priced porno stars and expensive drugs and I don’t know what-all, and it turned out that people were more interested in a’watchin’ people what look like their neighbors go at it. No sets, no fancy cars, no fancy lightin’, and nuthin in the way of props that you couldn’t find in a kitchen drawer or a good hardware store. It just blew the ay-dult industry away, and they sat up and said, “we got to get u
s some amachures, fast,” and that’s why Henry had his grin.
“Ain’t no one doin’ mountain porn, Ollie,” he sez. “We got the field wide open, and you saw the video. Ain’t nuthin’ happen on that video we couldn’t do ourselves.” He looked so happy you’da thought his pockets were full o’ cream.
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