Slutever - San Francisco Sex Mecca
Karley has been feeling a bit oppressed lately by all the negative comments on her blog, like for examps when people call her a “desperate slut from hell” or “God’s period” and stuff. Luckily, through the magic of the internet and some casual #research, Karley discovered a magical, friendly place that’s all the way on the other side of America. A place where everyone is overwhelmingly positive and people love their neighbors (even if they’re kind of gross). Also, randomly, the biggest BDSM fair in the world takes place in this magical town. It’s called “San Francisco.” #Convenient! DID SOMEBODY SAY SLUTEVER WEST COAST MAKEOVER?!?!
WATCH IT HERE
Still Sexy After All These Years
Nobuyoshi Araki is a Japanese artist who unapologetically creates art around a central theme: sex. He has created over 450 books in his lifetime and has an uncanny ability to make anything and everything appear erotic. We interviewed Araki a while back and he seems like on old angry genius who thinks about photography constantly to an obsessive degree, and his outputs shows it. He is about to add another book to his catalog, because Taschen is releasing a limited edition retrospective of his favorite bondage imagery he’s compiled over his storied career. It even comes in its own wooden box, for safe keeping/hiding. Check out the photos of beautiful Japanese women who are tied up and ready above, if that sounds like something you’d be interested in.
Fifty Shades of Grey is the new BDSM novel currently dominating the nation’s menopausal demographic. Having dog-eared their daughters’ Twilight books too many times, these MILFs are passing around Fifty Shades like it’s the ultimate cure for dusty clitorises; a Huffington Post reviewer boasted that it’s so good, “you will actually want to have sex with your husband. Like, a lot.”
A quick scroll through some forums revealed that Fifty Shades started off as a Twilight fan-fic written by a user named “Snowqueens Icedragon” (lack of apostrophe is sic, and the writer, unfortunately, switched her pseudonym to the colorless E.L. James). Like in Twilight, the female character is still a young noob whose awkwardness is supposed to be kewt, and her lover is a menacing guy with a dark secret. UnlikeTwilight, instead of blood and fangs, though, you’ll get 300 pages of ass-whippings and anal beads.
Still confused about the book’s success? Here are the reasons I’ve come up with to explain why your mom’s vagina is currently groaning over her Kindle edition:
THE HEROINE WANTS TO FUCK AS SOON AS SHE MEETS HER GUY, BUT IS TOO SHY :(
Anastasia Steele—the cloying centerpiece of the story—falls in love with business tycoon Christian Grey from the mortifying second she trips and lands in his palatial office. The tension between them is like, whoa, and at one point Christian offers to take his pants off, but she fires back with the zinger: “Um.” Then she thinks to herself, “I must be the color of the communist manifesto.” Poor thing.
THERE’S A CRAZY TWIST
Even though he kisses and rubs his boner all over her in the elevator, ~30 seconds later Grey refuses to have sex with Anastasia until she agrees to sign a contract. She won’t lay off his d, though, so he flies her in his helicopter, Charie Tango (also the name of his cock), to his house so that he can reveal his big secret. Once they arrive, he tells her to enter his playroom. His playroom, it turns out, is “The Red Room Of Pain”—a “womb-like” dungeon filled with paddles, whips, riding crops, and dangling chain karabiners. Turns out Grey is exclusively interested in a dom-sub relationship (“I don’t make love… I fuck. Hard.”), and wants Anastasia to be his cock-worshiping slave bitch….
THERE’S A SECOND TWIST AFTER THE FIRST TWIST
…Except Anastasia is a virgin! In fact, she’s never even seen a penis before. So Grey reluctantly goes vanilla and teaches her the joys of making luuuuuurve before he eventually eases a paddle up her ass. Unsurprisingly, Anastasia morphs into a 24/7 hornball, delighting in her “very own Christian Grey flavor popsicle” while declaring, “My inner goddess is doing the merengue with some salsa moves.”
Continue: Moms & Daughters Are Creaming Over the Same Twilight Porn
Last week was a week of firsts for me. I began it by going to a spa in Park Slope to get my very first massage, and I ended it by going to a hotel in Manhattan to have my first session with a dominatrix. The theme of last week, apparently, was “touching.”
From the time I received the press release informing that San Francisco’s hottest dominatrix, January Seraph, was booking exclusive private sessions in NYC, to the night of my own session with her, my nerves and excitement level went on a serotonin roller coaster that started with “so kooky, so wild, I’m really doing this,” to “I’m terrified. I feel like I’m going to a haunted house.”
As I told January herself during our ice breaker convo, I’m no stranger to getting beat up by pretty women, but getting spanked by the girl you also watch Gossip Girl episodes with, and getting ball-gagged by a six-foot glamazon who pays her bills by making people cry out in pain is a different story.
For the sake of my GF, and also because I wasn’t too psyched on the idea of posting nudes of myself on the Internet, I left my clothes on. Even with the buffer of jeans, my ass stung a little as I rode the Subway home that night. I suspect that January took full advantage of her first time getting permission to beat the shit out of a reporter. OH! Look! It was a night of firsts for both of us!
Here’s my interview with January, which I have to add was REALLY awkward to transcribe because I left the tape recorder on during our session. Ever hear yourself making kissing noises on a boot before? It’s pretty cool.
