Tuesday, February 17, 2015

I am the Noodle King. I can do anything.

I am so supposed to be doing other things, but in the course of doing said things, I came upon this.  And of course--of course--I thought of you.

Behold the Noodle King!

Yes. I know!

This Fleshlighty fuck hole not only looks like it comes from those really really deep ocean backwaters where all the fish are blind, but it also comes with this excellent back story from Jlist.com, a Japanese sex toy site where, objectively, I probably spend too much time. Anyway:

In the days when onaholes weren't invented yet, Japanese men came up with some innovative methods to create a male toy from household objects. One particular innovation was a makeshift stress toy made from a cup of warm noodles. This onahole could be created by pouring hot water in the cup noodle, wait until it was warm and soft, then remove the water and then use it as a onahole. This modern version, using more sanitary material, simulates that original feeling of using a cup of noodles for stress relief, without wasting food. 

So yeah, ha ha ha. Cup O' Noodles fucking, excellent history lesson, no food wasting--all good, 'til I got to this photo:

Not only is this hand model being, to my taste, way too rough in their Love, and that stream of goo is a bit disconcerting, but what the fuck is wrong with this person's nails? Are those jewels or some horrible nail fungus? I was hoping for the jewel option. After all, these are the hands of a hand model, a job in which the one and only requirement is that your hands look decent.

But further study gave sad credence to my fungus theory:

Note: horrible nail!

A part of me feels sorry for this poor onahole being so crudely manhandled by this possibly-diseased person. And at this point I care not about the charming ramen-fucking story and the rest of it, I am lost down a worm hole of ick.  The only thing that can pull me out is remembering happier times--myself 30 minutes ago when I first arrived on jlist and discovered the Zhang Xiao Yu onahole.

Not only is it apparently "great for 'anatomy lessons'"--which, by the way, the Noodle King is *not* so great for--but the Zhang Xiao Yu is subtitled with "The Dignity of Great Pussy." Which is awesome.

"The Dignity of Great Pussy" is going to be my mantra/guiding principle today. Feel free to do the same.

xoxo
jill

Thursday, February 5, 2015

I Turned My Naked-Ass Self Into a "Sexy Buffet"

I recently festooned my body with dessert items for this story in Cosmo. (If you are too lazy to click over, it's here below.) The idea is that writers try vintage Cosmo sex tips and report back their findings. I was not surprised that my tip involved food, but I was relieved that there was no fondue involved. They go pretty far back for these.

If you do not wish to imagine me naked, especially not naked with groceries on personal body parts, you need to go right now.

Seriously. Just run.

xoxo
jill

******
I Covered Myself in Food for Sex

The Tip: NAKED CHEF
"Incorporating food into you passion play is a classic carnal activity. Turning your bodies into a sexy buffet is a fresh, tasty spin. Take a few of your favorite erotically appealing flavor combinations, like peanut butter and honey or whipped cream and chocolate sauce. Put a dollop of, say, peanut butter on an area where you'd like to be licked (avoiding your genitals.) Then dot the honey on the same spot on the opposite side of your body. Instruct your man to first lick off one flavor and then make his way over to the other, providing a pleasurable sensation for you and a flavorful sensation for him. Continue mixing up yummy treats in symmetric spots all over your body.”

Clearly, a successful Naked Chef is all in the Art of Food Selection. But what to chose?

The proper food couldn't be too spicy, chewy or hot. It couldn't be too round, slippery or otherwise unwieldy. Soup, for example, was probably a “no.” It had to be something decadent. Yes, it would be nice to have those leftovers finally out of the fridge, but a line of lo mein running up my leg didn't seem like the way to go.

I read that keeping your partner on his toes with random surprises is part of a keeping a relationship fresh so I briefly considered hiding something somewhere on my person. Corn on the cob in the armpit? Crab claw between the legs? But my sporadically functioning Feminine Intuition told me that this would probably not be conducive to l-u-v.

The Menu:
In the end, I went full-on Naked Chef, following all the suggestions--whipped cream, chocolate syrup, peanut butter and honey. I also tossed in some bittersweet chocolate chips just 'cause they're really really good and I liked the idea of N. munching through a line of them, like Pac-Man, but you know, sexy.

The Music:
I let N. pick. He set Pandora to Billy Bragg. Later he told me he'd considered picking the Pac-Man theme song, but thought better of it. This, in a nutshell, is why I love him.

The Mood:
As I lied there festooned with squirts of chocolate syrup slowly dripping down my arms, I felt less magically delicious and more like a dessert plate at a nice restaurant where they finish the plate with stripes of fancy reduction sauce. Plus, I don't like following rules—fight the power!-- so I'd ditched the suggestion to go for symmetry and instead wrote Eat Me across my chest because it seemed cheeky and direct. Or, it would have been were I not been working upside down and thus appearing to urge N. to “Gat Me.”

The Setting:
Bedroom, broad friggin' daylight. Not recommended. By all means, harness the power of flattering evening lighting.

The Act:
Once N. started nibbling up my arm, I immediately forgot about the daylight, “gat me,” and looking like a plate. It's nice having someone lick their way up your body--I recommend it highly. The licking, the kissing, all very very good.

For the final flourish, I smudged a bit of peanut butter inside my lower thigh then—rules be damned!—squeezed a dollop of honey between my legs NOT AVOIDING MY GENITALS. A crotch overflowing with honey seemed metaphorically beautiful somehow, plus it felt like it would be kinda hot. Which, gentle reader, it was.

The Verdict:
Since the food/sex mashup is so clich√© and tired, I'm a little pained to say that—okay fine!-- it actually does work. Anything that encourages close attention to each other's bodies seems like a good thing. Plus the food thing works as a nice, stealth tool to direct attention exactly where you want it—“See that puff of whipped cream on my nipple? There.”

Here's what else I learned:

--Up your game re: hair removal. Though it sounds kind of cool and artisanal, pube-infused chocolate syrup or pube-infused anything for that matter, is pretty damn gross.
--Chocolate syrup doesn't stay in place and whipped cream is fucking cold.
--To make a dog look like it's talking in a movie, they put peanut butter in the dog's mouth so it smacks its mouth open and shut, trying to work the peanut down. Human males have the same reaction.
--Putting chocolate syrup on a man's penis is fun for all.
--You'll know the tip is working, when you no longer care that sheets are getting dirty and you're just smearing stuff all over each other.
--You should totally put honey between your legs. Unless that is not medically advisable, in which case I said nothing of the kind.

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Photo: André de Dienes 1950
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