Eros Daily Musings and Digressions

Sabrage from “Prepare To Fight” EP, out now on Cheap Thrills. This is a tribute to the amazing 1968 mondo movie “Svezia, inferno e paradiso” by Luigi Scattini (1927 – 2010).
[Previously: I can see boobies]

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If that isn’t enough, we’re adding in a free Babeland Edible Body Chocolate for all purchases of $75 or more. Pairing sex with chocolate has never tasted better. This chocolate is so good, you’ll want to eat it on your ice cream, too. This offer only lasts until February 2nd.

The We-Vibe 3 is getting rave reviews since it hit our shelves. We’re pairing it with a free 4 oz. bottle of BabeLube until Valentine’s Day. Now you’ve got everything you need for a hot and sexy evening.

Happy shopping!

 

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This post, Flash Sale, Free Shipping, and Gifts With Purchase, originally appeared on Babeland's Blog on January 27, 2012. Tweet This Post!

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Well… and Beyonce doesn’t look so bad than other Celebs With No Eyebrows …like Sasha Gray or Lindsay Lohan.

At the Hustler magazine party I had a creeper, met new people, and autographed a breast for the first time.

Remember this video I did last month where I showed off the dress from Sin City Playwear I was supposed to wear to my Hustler magazine party?

Yes, this one:

It's "one size fits most", but it looks like a shirt, doesn't it? Or maybe a onesie for a baby?

I decided it would be sexier if I wore a bandage on my thumb, so I enlisted a friend who could pull this scrap of a dress off.

Meet Ashley:

I figured if she strutted around the party wearing the dress, it would take the pressure off me.

I am so smart.

My very talented friend (the same one who sings the TBK theme song!) gave me a classier (read: age-approrpiate) dress to wear, and did my hair and makeup until I looked like Annette Bening. See? She's good!

We set up camp at the Hustler store on Natural Bridge Road. 

I did not feel like the same woman who was featured in Hustler magazine, and I did not resemble her, either. I traded in the hippie hair for something more sophisticated.

Here is a censored version of one of the pics in the article:

Here's what the censored version looks like when you ask a smartass like Cap'n Marrrrk to touch it up:

The blue-bearded bastard gave me a merkin with his mug on it!

Hustler store = amazing hosts! They offered a glorious array of sexy products, and everyone got 20% off their purchase. In addition, they had three bags of awesome toys to give away to attendees that contained awesome toys such as glass dildos and a spiderweb restraint system. They also put out a fruit and cheese tray next to a fanned display of the magazine. Photographer Connie LaFlam brought along her own entourage.

I didn't want to autograph anything - that makes me feel really weird - but if someone asked, I did it, and I did it in all-block letters across my artificially hairless armpits so it looked like a 3rd grader signed it.

About 30? 40? 50? people showed up to the party throughout the evening. Some were good friends, some were from the SEX+STL community, and some were NEW BLOOD! YESSS!!!

David Wraith took pics for us, bless his soul. Here's the one he took of Ashley and me:

Here's a pic of Ashley rockin' the dress:

I begged David to get a closeup, and he obliged:

Don't you want to bounce quarters off it?!

Men swarmed her so bad it was funny/stupid - she could have collected dicks like a headhunter that night. She was like mama duck and they trailed behind her like darling drooling ducklings. She had to tape the dress to her thighs, because with every step it wiggled up her hips as if coaxed by the ghost of a pervert.

She wore six-inch cobalt heels and had only her amazing mane of curls to keep herself warm. She giddily confided in me that she felt like a "slutty Cinderella" and would definitely wear the dress again - with jeans next time.

I autographed a woman's breast - a first for me - and had to resist the urge to sign HER name instead of mine.

People treated me like a celebrity, which was surreal. They looked at me funny, as if they were trying to figure out if I was a powerful sex symbol, or merely ordinary. My dad ran around telling people who he was - he always gets a kick out of that. I'm so fortunate to have a family that's proud of what I do.

This one guy who spied on me peeing at a party showed up and ran up to me when I was alone, which made me feel cornered and uncomfortable. He asked me when the next party was, but before I could say "You're not invited," my partner Matthew approached us, which caused the creeper to scurry away. No doubt he thought he was going to get bounced.

Lots of dear friends were there, including SEX+STL co-founder Anna, and David Wraith's girlfriend Elaine, who GIFTED ME WITH THIS PAINTING she did of me:

Two of my latest crushes, Shine and Dan were there, as well as Chad and Steffy, aka Rockabilly Couple!

Doesn't this pic look like we're having a baby together?!

God it was an amazing whirlwind night!

After we wrapped it up there, we went to a friend's house for an afterparty, where we got nice and drunk.

Then Matthew and I went home and fucked and passed out.

In the morning, we fucked three more times - in the bed, shower, etc. I felt like our sex life was a chapter book! One where we live happily ever after…

And you know what? Two parties, 50 friends, one creeper, a bout of mini-porn-mag-celebrity, a bottle of wine, five hours of sleep and four fucks later, I managed to get to work 15 minutes early.

Now THAT'S Responsible Hedonism, people.
 

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Copyright 2011, The Beautiful Kind

This is from the book Sorority of Submissive Girls, variously attributed to P.N. Dedeaux or Carl Buono: ‘We’ll start now.’ ‘Please. You’re not going to …’ Rowena was alarmed as much at the fear she felt as anything. ‘I use a cane. Fetch me the one in the bottom rack above your bed.’ ‘But I’ve [...]

After a fight with his girlfriend, he went to bed. When she climbed on top of him, he thought it was for makeup sex. He was wrong.

Watch your back.

There are four qualities you need to have in order to be good relationship material. They are:

- Agreeability

- Conscientiousness

- Confidence

- Sanity

As my friend RainMan found out the hard way, the woman he was dating lacked one or more of these qualities. Here is his gutwrenching story, in his own words:

"I was sound asleep when my girlfriend came into the room. She climbed on top of me (I sleep on my stomach), waking me up. I figured it was time for the requisite makeup sex. I was very wrong.

We'd had a fight that evening about my decision to move to another town. We hadn't been dating long enough for it to even be an option that she'd come with me, and the move was essentially ending things.

She, like all the girls I'd dated back then, was very dramatic. We all know a few, the types who turn everything into a major fight. I guess this was too serious of a slight in her eyes to let it go.

To look at her, you'd never think she'd be that crazy. She was average height, build, brunette, had the typical girl-next door look.

She'd grabbed the pocket knife (a folding knife with a 3” blade) sitting next to my wallet and keys when she came into the bedroom, and stabbed me in the upper back. There's an odd moment right after it happens, when you're still half-asleep, that you don't really register what just happened.

Once the pain hit, I jumped out of bed and tried to get to the door, grabbing my keys along the way. She was blocking my exit, still holding the knife. We struggled for a few seconds as I tried to get the knife away from her, ending up with two slashes across my right hand for my efforts.

Eventually I was able to get by and ran out the front door to my car in the parking lot. I swear I must have looked like the Road Runner going across the parking lot, probably with a little dust cloud trailing behind me. I drove to the hospital, still not sure how serious the wound was. I wasn't bleeding badly, but who knew what was going on internally.

It was a shooting pain, all over my torso. Cold at first, but turned into a strong burning sensation (I'm guessing from the bleeding?). Once the adrenaline hit, the pain wasn't as noticeable. It came back after the adrenaline wore off, and it was more of a throbbing pain. The weird part is that there was also a sensation of pressure, like the knife was still in the wound.

They checked me out at the ER, ran a bunch of tests and found that I was quite lucky: she hadn't done any real damage. Between the relatively short blade, her choice of location and the low force she used, she had managed to miss hitting anything vital. I was running purely off adrenaline, so my heart was racing and I was fighting not to go into shock or start panicking. I was all over the map emotionally.

The next couple days I crashed (read: hid) at a friend's house, and got him to go load my stuff into a moving van. As soon as my place in the new town was ready, I was on the road.

The days immediately after, I was mostly angry at myself. It was that sort of "Wait a minute, I'm a smart guy. How the fuck did I end up like this?" feeling. That I didn't date at all for almost three years after is a pretty good indicator of how it affected me long-term. And once I did start up again, I was definitely paranoid. Anything even remotely similar to the crazy girls and I'd bail immediately. I've gotten much better since, but it was rough at first.

In an odd way, it was actually the reactions of the people who found out that did more damage to my trust of people than the actual attack. My guy friends aren't exactly the talk-about-your-feelings type (they served their role of kicking my butt whenever I started getting mopey, though), but I told three of my female friends about it. For two of them, gender loyalty trumped friendship, and they tried to pin the attack on me and find something I did that would justify it. Yeah, we haven't talked since…

That was the end of my crazy-girl phase, and in fact I didn't date at all for almost three years afterward. I've still got the two scars (pretty faint by this point) on my hand, which makes for a very uncomfortable time when any of my current girls want to play the “how'd you get your scars” game. I usually lie and say I cut my hand cleaning up glass from a broken window. Crazy exes are best left in the past.

As for her, she's in jail. Not from that night, she was never charged with anything. The knife magically disappeared and there were no witnesses. I found out from a friend that she assaulted one of the guys who came after me, earning herself an eight-year sentence after doing some serious damage to him. All in all, I suppose I came out relatively unscathed.

I should have been smart enough not to end up in that situation. Hell, I knew she was a little crazy when I first met her. But like many people, I kept going, figuring I could keep things under control.

Lesson learned."
 

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Copyright 2011, The Beautiful Kind

Justin Tyler Close is a photographed based in Vancouver and director/editor of The Lab Magazine. In the portfolio there’s also a nice collection of polaroids.

On this particular evening, the party seems to be going well at The Upper Floor: See Also:Caning Her CalvesPunishment Night On The Upper FloorCaning Kait And JessieA Spanking BJ On The Upper FloorSpanked On The Upper Floor

My daughter and I play a game that might be in bad taste, but it’s definitely better than the real thing.

Pedo vans are everywhere!

You know the game Slug Bug?

Well, my daughter taught me a new road game that's a sick variation on that. (Note: Punching is optional, and we're a non-violent family.)

One day I was driving along and she pointed to a white van and announced, "Pedo Van."

"What are you talking about?"

"White vans are what pedophiles drive," she explained.

Excuse me?! I thought they were work vans. Silly me.

I asked, "Where did you learn THAT?"

"From the internet," she said simply.

After I finished telling her that the internet is not the most reliable information source, I quickly got into the spirit of things and started noticing white vans EVERYWHERE.

In order to count as a Pedo Van, it has to have no windows on the sides. The older and creepier it appears, the better. It can't have writing on the side like "Beverly's Flowers" or "Bob's Seafood," but suggestive names such as "Reem Your Pipes" or "St. Anthony's Church" are acceptable.

Now everytime I see a white van, I compulsively blurt, "Pedo Van." For instance, one time I saw a whole row of them lined up in front of a catering business. When I exclaimed, "Look at all those Pedo Vans!" my daughter breathed, "It's a Pedo CONVENTION."

Then one time we saw a white van parked in an office parking lot after hours.

After I announced the perfunctory "Pedo Van," my daughter shot back, "Pedo Idiot - he should be parked at a playground, not an office building, sheesh!"

So now we have something to bond over besides tea parties and Harry Potter books.

I've taken to muttering Pedo Van under my breath out and about, even when I'm alone. What can I say, I'm a sucker for sick jokes.

As a parent, I like to keep tabs on all the child molester stories in the news. Unfortunately, there are ASSLOADS of them. Almost as many as there are Pedo Vans.

"Good news, honey!" I told my daughter after perusing an article (I found on the internet), "According to this article, now that you're 11 you no longer have to worry about pedophilia! Now you just need to worry about hebephilia. And well, possibly pedohebephilia."

She said, "OK, so when I turn 18, I just have to worry about plain old rapists?"

I laughed and said, "Not if the SlutWalk movement has their way!"

Then there's Maddox's "How to Spot a Pedophile" article and quiz. (In the interest of research, I took the quiz and scored an 11 out of 18.)

Pedophilia Awareness

All kidding aside, there are many other interesting related articles and websites out there. For example, there really was a pedophile convention last August in Lynchburg, VA, and I'm not talking about NAMBLA.

It was hosted by a group called B4U-ACT and had real live pedophiles, or "minor-attracted persons," in attendance. B4U-ACT's motto is "Living in Truth and Dignity." They believe there is an unfair stigma in our society when it comes to pedophilia, and the unhealthy way we handle it (FEAR! OUTRAGE! DENIAL!) can cause more problems than if we approached the issue with compassion and a willingness to be educated.

Nothing is a more of a hot button topic than linking children and sex. A recent move to recognize pedophilia as a disability in Greece is a good example of how an attempt to get a handle on a nation's health can twist faster than you can say "panties-in-a-bunch." I'll bet I get accused of being a child molester just for having the audacity to address the taboo topic.

And what about all the scandals involving hot blond teachers and 14-yr-old boys? Browse this slideshow and you be the judge. Which deserved jailtime, and which were wrongfully persecuted?

As far as I'm concerned, you can be sexually attracted to whoever and whatever you want, as long as you don't touch what you shouldn't. It would be nice if we all knew who was hands off, but alas, we are human, and if there's one thing for certain, our species is an unpredictible and emotional lot.

I wish there was a "You Break It, You Buy It" policy in the sex realm. Instead, we have a few bad apples running around robbing people of their sexuality, and those bad apples are like food poisoning that can linger for years.

As parents, it is our job to educate ourselves and our children about the realities of life. We should be fiercely protective of our children, and do our best to put them first without sacrificing too much of ourselves. Trust your gut, and do your research. The RAINN website is a great place to start. (In response to the recent scandal, Penn State raised $500,000 for RAINN's National Sexual Assault Online Hotline, by the way.)

Instead of raising innocent children, we should raise knowing children. I know for a fact that I've cultivated an open and honest relationship with my daughter so that she knows she can come to me with any questions or issues.

She has the benefit of living in a guilt and shame-free home that is relaxed enough to joke about sensitive topics, which can lead, believe it or not, to important trauma-preventing conversations.

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Copyright 2011, The Beautiful Kind

Husband and Slut is for those who are interested in how a BDSM relationship manifests itself in real life between two real people.

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