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Archive for August 2009

Naked!

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The gallery update is a few of my personal favorites from the current exhibit at the Paul Kasmin Gallery in NY.  The exhibit is appropriately named Naked! and features art spanning from the 1600’s through today from artists such as Warhol, David Lachapelle, Mel Ramos, Mark Ryden, and plenty more.  Hit up the gallery site to see more… enjoy!

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Written by icecreeem

August 31, 2009 at 4:51 pm

pussies are magic!!

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Written by icecreeem

August 28, 2009 at 11:24 pm

Posted in everything else

pussy stank

with one comment

I can watch this video a thousand times and still be amused. “A beguile vaginal scent.” Don’t forget to gently shake the bottle… gotta get all the chunder mixed around to fully release the spectrum of aromas in this “orjianic” substance. “Not a perfume.” Click here to watch the trailer… and while you’re there, check out the gallery. Rich.

vulvavulva2

Written by icecreeem

August 28, 2009 at 2:21 pm

Craigslist

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Well, the picture was hot enough anyway. A man with a thinly built, muscular frame, jeans worn loose around the waist and a chain menacingly wrapped around his hand, it was taken from a low-angle. Neck down only, too soon to start talking faces when trolling for sex on Craigslist. There is a whole array of entertaining images on Craigslist when you get away from the furniture ads and actually venture over to the personals section or more specifically “casual encounters.” The guys who post cock shots, the silly cartoons of fetishists, the filled up frames of BBW’s (big, beautiful women), personally I would stay away from anyone who hand scribbles out their own face with a Sharpie, but I don’t judge others for being into that sort of thing. Back to him: he wants to dominate me, tie me up, whip me and give me permission to cum. Not me in particular, yet, but whoever is reading his ad.
Formalities: I respond with a pic and sales pitch of my body and sexual prowess. He responds with more pics featuring his face and inquiring to my thoughts/feelings on anal. He’s not that bad, a bit cute actually. Let’s just call him “Craig”. Craig and I meet for coffee. The body is there, but , well let’s just say he takes better pictures. Still, I’m horny and I can work with this. Craig is into BD/sm, which stands for a myriad of different things. Bondage, Discipline (or Dominance)/submission (or sadism and masochism)*, I’m sure it all depends on what part of the country you’re from. Do you see how “BD” is capitalized and how it looms large over “sm?” These people take it that seriously. Somebody had to think that up.
It doesn’t go down after coffee, which I would have been cool with. It goes down a couple nights later after drinks at a bar near his house. For a guy looking for sex on a classifieds website, Craig really likes to talk and hang out. He’s a sweet nerd from a good upbringing and is a working professional at something I don’t remember. We go back to his place, I’m checking out the exits, I text a friend the address just in case I wind up missing, we get through the door and goofy, affable Craig says, very sternly, “Take your clothes off, get on your knees.”
I obey. “You will address me as Sir or Master.” I reply, “Yes, Sir.” Then Craig gets to work pulling out a leather collar, leather locking wrist cuffs, ankle cuffs, and chains. He painstakingly fashions each one around the appropriate appendage and locks each one with tiny, little locks with a tiny, little key. He handcuffs my hands, and chains my hands to my feet. For extra measure, he chains me, via the collar, to the TV stand, just in case I try to make a run for it. There I am, lying naked on this guy’s floor, chained to the entertainment center and I think, “Damn, all it took was two vodka tonics.” Craig is manically clinging chains behind me, like Old Marley coming to warn Scrooge. This goes on for ten minutes while he rigs the chains through the, yes, metal d-rings attached to studs in the ceiling. They appeared only slightly conspicuous in the nautical-themed apartment decorated by his mother, come to find out later. As I lay there on the floor, I realize that none of this is about me and I don’t mean the de-humanizing aspect of BD/sm play, but this guy is into the meticulous set-up, the sound of chains, the pomp and circumstance, ritualistic aspect.
Eventually, Craig unshackles my feet and leads me from the floor to the new set-up and chains me, arms splayed upward and legs chained wide apart to two more d-rings bolted in the floor that were hidden in the shag carpet. He places a gag in my mouth and I protest when he tries to blindfold me, a wish he acquiesces to as a whole part of this lifestyle is into respecting people’s boundaries. It is in this position that he proceeds to spank me, hard, with a leather paddle until my body is simply convulsing forward, using the strength of the chains to catch and throw me in this ecstasy. All the while screaming and spitting with wild abandon through the gag in my mouth. Saliva ran down my chin, a sight that Craig enjoyed to no end. He whipped out a vibrator and used it on my clit.
I begged him to take me to the bedroom, again leading me there with my little collar and chain. Once we get to the bed, he pulls the chains that were connected to the bed frame out and begins the whole process again. He has a large, beautiful cock. I end up spending the night. However, we never got it right, for me anyway. Too much stimulation when I was chained in the upright position and not enough when I was chained to the bed. If I had a free hand, I could have corrected this matter and gotten off. But like I said earlier, I don’t think it was about me.
Craig invited me out for dinner a couple nights later and I joined him. It is here that I realized that I was not going to see him again. It became obvious that he wanted more than a kinky, on-line hook up. He spoke of couples he knew who had met in “the lifestyle” and have since gotten married. To be honest, I felt a little bad when he started talking about special ordering me my own set of wrist cuffs for my tiny wrists. I could see where this was going. I let the fling die, where it was born, in an e-mail. It goes without saying, “You can chain me up, but you can’t tie me down.”

* source: wikipedia

Written by whiptcreeem

August 6, 2009 at 10:12 pm