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Dispatches From Dystopia

~ "What man by worrying can add one cubit to his span of years?"

Dispatches From Dystopia

Category Archives: Sexuality

Tea, A Ramble And A Rant

20 Thursday Dec 2018

Posted by David in Sexuality, Tea

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

#Erotic Qualities

I am drinking a cup of tea, Harney’s Darjeeling, to be precise. I ordered a tin of loose tea from Amazon a while back. It is damp and rainy today, so hot tea sounded appealing.

Americans aren’t exactly tea connoisseurs. Most Americans drink tea iced, with sugar, what Southerners call Sweet Tea. My sister’s term for Sweet Tea is “house wine of the South”. My mother never put sugar in iced tea, so I don’t. My wife drinks sweet tea from McDonald’s almost all day.

I am bragging to myself because I can distinguish the difference between Darjeeling and Irish Breakfast Tea. Earl Grey is too easy to distinguish, as is Lapsang Souchong, one of my favorites. I love Lapsang Souchong’s pine tar smokiness. I daresay it is erotic, in the way that the unique aroma and flavour awaken the senses.

The awakening of the senses is the very essence of the erotic. So consider this. Our culture has become very sexualized, but hardly is it erotic. We are abuzz with allusions to arousal and gratification (orgasm), but the sensuality of sexual awakening is a wasteland of deprivation.

Subtleties of touch, smell, taste, sound, even sight, are lost. The sexual imagery is drearily cliched´. The Playmate image (sexism, notwithstanding) died of boredom.

But I digress, as my tea has gone cold. I shall have a proper Afternoon Tea this Spring, with dainty sandwiches, and pastries. Something to look forward to.

Consumption

19 Wednesday Dec 2018

Posted by David in Relationships, Sexuality

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That’s what they called tuberculosis back in the Nineteenth Century, before antibiotics, before effective treatment regimens, before sanitariums were established to isolate, then treat the sick. We don’t talk about consumption as a disease anymore. Tuberculosis is tuberculosis or TB.

But there is a consumption many of us feel. That we are consumed by our longing, for sexual expression, fulfillment and release. It involves our passion for our partners, who were, once, our lovers. The drama and the dreams live on for us, but our lovers moved on to other things, defeated by hormones, or anger, or fear of being consumed in the sweat and the lust and the passion.

It is too much to be loved so completely, I suspect. There is the regret of knowing the passion cannot be exchanged, the shame of quitting the race, the surrender to growing up.

Breakfast, YouTube, Sloth

24 Saturday Nov 2018

Posted by David in food, Sexuality, Uncategorized

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NSFW Adult topics

Typical night. In bed before midnight, did not sleep nude, as I intimated in my last post. I woke up around Four AM. I was awake long enough to fix a cup of decaf, watch YouTube, and then wonder what I was doing awake. Back to sleep I went for four more hours.

I awoke again, made a big pot of regular 100% Colombian, and went online. I checked out Crashpad Series. I like Crashpad, because the actor/participants appear to be enjoying themselves and the camera work is good. The trans performers always jar my sense of reality and normal, but that’s OK, I suppose.

I needed to eat. Since I am doing Weight Watchers (now called WW) fairly rigorously, I had a low “point” breakfast trimmed pork loin, poached eggs. A sprinkling of Italian Cheese blend 6 Smart Points©. I topped breakfast off with a banana and a Bosc pear.

I am watching YouTube again. A train arrived in Ashland, a rather large contingent of Thanksgiving travelers boarded, then departed.

Next I watched adult film personality Nina Hartley give some advice on sex with postmenopausal women. (2 word summary: use lubrication!).

I plan to swim today, maybe clean, maybe fix dinner.

Did I tell you it’s raining. It’s a late autumn rain that makes indoors so inviting.

I am alone. Again. And longing.

Short Erotic Interlude

20 Tuesday Nov 2018

Posted by David in Erotic Writing, Sexuality

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Tags

#Fellatio

NSFW For Grown-ups Only Please

She remembered the first time she ever knelt before a man, a boy really, and she felt his cock in her mouth, tasted its saltiness, her nostrils filled with the man odor.

Where was her dignity? Did she really love this guy? Or like this boy? Or even give a rat’s ass, one way or the other? What she knew is that he wanted this, this furtive fellatio before they joined her family at Thanksgiving Dinner.

And on her knees, beside her Daddy’s Buick Electra 225, in the chilly and oil-smelling garage as the rest of the family drank hot mulled cider and ate sausage balls, she realized her power. She, the one with a dick in her mouth, her nose tickled by boy pubes, was the one in charge.

If you want this, Suckah, you’re going to pay the price.

Endorphin High Maybe?

17 Saturday Nov 2018

Posted by David in Erotic Writing, Sexuality

≈ 2 Comments

Tags

#Erotic Reverie

NSFW. MATURE THOUGHTS EXPRESSED

I am sitting here in my chair, feeling somewhat “high”

Lazy, lethargic, a little light-headed, wanting this feeling to stay.

I am a step away from sexual arousal

I want to share this feeling and also to feel bare skin against bare skin.

I want to stroke my lover’s labia, slide my fingers into her, as I press her clit with my thumb.

I want this floating out of time and body feeling to last.

No alcohol or drugs were used to bring about this euphoria,

Food. And Sex.

13 Tuesday Nov 2018

Posted by David in food, Sexuality

≈ 2 Comments

Tags

#Key West, #Tom Jones

It is Seven AM. I am watching a vacation video that Fresco Channel posted on YouTube about a trip to Key West, taken in the Summer of 2018.

It is innocuous enough and his videography holds my attention. There are scenes in the video that underscore just how obsessed we are with food. The featured event is called Lobster Fest and the video opens with food vendors preparing lobsters. He records trips to shops with great big cookies on display. Nothing unusual,right? But juxtaposed beside the food are the women rockin’ their admittedly hot bods, eating. No, nobody’s having sex, but nobody is into modesty either.

In my early teens, in my fantasy forming years, a classic film premiered, Tom Jones. It was all about class differences and the decadent landed gentry, just the sort of thing one would expect from the Labour-oriented filmmakers of the time. John Osborne, author of the play Look Back In Anger, wrote the screenplay, adapting the Henry Fielding novel of the eighteenth century.

One memorable scene features the title character Tom Jones (played by the incomparable Albert Finney) and a rather slatternly woman, played by Joyce Redman, seducing each other by eating. If food is your “thing”, this is pretty hot stuff., especially the “oyster course”.

When an amateur videographer, does a vacation video featuring food and attractive women, I think it’s easy to infer how we continue to link the two themes, food and sex, together. Of course, it takes a little effort to infer that the hot rockin’ bods and the monster cookies with whipped cream on top are in fundamental conflict, unless these women are Arctic explorers, marathon runners, or endurance swimmers, of which I am quite skeptical.

Quid Pro Quo

12 Monday Nov 2018

Posted by David in Erotic Writing, Sexuality

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Tags

#liaisons, #NSFW, #open marriage

NSFW. Mature story

I hadn’t planned on this. I had been good all my life, paid my bills, my taxes, joined the Army, married a woman I loved, fathered children, raised them right, and never cheated.

Until one day my wife said, “I’m bored. Find a man to fuck me. And I will find a woman to “do” you.”

I tried to get my jaw off the floor and engage in some kind of dialogue around this request, or demand, however you choose to look at it.

“Are you serious?!”

“Yes.”

“Why”

” I was a virgin when we were married. I have no complaints about you as a lover, husband, provider. But I just wonder what have I missed. Crazy, huh?”

“Well yeah.”

“Here are the rules. You will find a man you think I might be attracted to. You will inform him of my offer. He will then be examined by a physician of my choosing to determine if he is disease-free and healthy. I don’t what him dying while he’s doing me.”

“He will then go to see my friend Celeste, the artist, She will make a mask that he will wear whenever we have sex. She will also make a plaster mold of his cock. If he pleases me she will cast a replica of his cock in silicon rubber.”

“I will also wear a mask. All of our liaisons will take place a nice Air BnB of my choosing. I have arranged with the owners our need for strict anonymity and privacy.”

“Please begin your search as soon as possible. You are tasked with using your skills to find a lover, not a stud. If you are vexed or puzzled, good. For your job is to enter my head and think like me, desire like me.”

Auntie’s House

21 Sunday Oct 2018

Posted by David in Erotic Writing, Sexuality

≈ 2 Comments

Tags

#Southern Erotica

When you are young and don’t know any better and people are just people, you look for clues to make sense out of the world. Your parents and grandparents, aunts uncles, neighbors are older and bigger than you, so they must know something and you don’t know if it’s bad or good , what they do, they just do it and nobody says they can’t.

Auntie had this friend, Wilsie, she called her, short for Wilhelmina, named after a Dutch queen, of all people. She was a good tennis player and archer. She would smoke a Havana cigar from time to time and drank her bourbon neat. Auntie would smile a lot when she came around. Sometimes they would travel, usually with a “Church” group. The Women’s Missionary Guild. The Guild didn’t know about Wilsie’s cigars and bourbon. The ladies in The Guild went to Chicago or Savannah or to Cypress Gardens to watch the water skiers. There must have been a lot of heathen water skiers because they went there often.

Then one day, I was over Auntie’s house to clean her swimming pool, and learn from Auntie how to use the cotton candy machine she bought to keep my younger cousins entertained when they came on the Fourth of July. What I remember is that it was hot. Wilsie had come over, made some “lemonade” that I couldn’t have, but she and Auntie seemed to enjoy. A lot. They placated my sugar lust with a bottle of Nehi Strawberry soda pop and a Nutty Buddy they got from the ice cream man when he came by in his truck, clanging the bell like it was Doomsday,

So they were sipping the “lemonade”, sitting on the back porch, I was sitting on the top step, looking up at them. I noticed Auntie ran her foot along Wilsie’s shinbone. And Wilsie didn’t seem to mind. And then Wilsie leaned in and kissed Auntie, kinda like the way Daddy did to Mama when he thought we kids weren’t looking.

“Bobbie,” Auntie said, “How about walking down to the drug store, get some calamine lotion and buy yourself a Snickers with the change.”

“Yes, ma’am,”

Nobody had poison oak or mosquito bites, so I wondered why she needed calamine lotion, but having a Snickers all to my self, put my curiosity to sleep, at least for a while.

Walking back, it was getting hotter, and my Snickers was melting and since I wanted to save it anyway, I walked up the back steps to the kitchen, was ready to just let the screen door slam behind me, but I didn’t. When I walked into the kitchen something told me to keep quiet. I put the candy bar in the ice box and heard over the whirr of the fans, some soft, moany sort of noises. I saw that Auntie’s bedroom door was almost completely open, because it was so hot and her fan was on too. It must have been hot, ’cause she was naked and Wilsie was too. They were rubbing up against each other and moaning louder and louder, I just wondered how they were going to cool off doing that.

It was then I knew I better look away, creep on back to the porch and act like noting happened. After a while, they came out dressed and “freshened” up. And that day I learned just a little bit more how grown-ups were.

Basic Function, Larger Purpose

18 Thursday Oct 2018

Posted by David in Family, Gender Identity, Sexuality

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Tags

#Breasts, Family

Here’s a thought. Female breasts are there to feed babies.

Yeah I know, we (men, mostly) have put more significance into breasts other than their biological purpose. Because of their purpose, they help define femininity. That’s not a bad thing.

Part of our dystopic thinking has us alienate ourselves from the natural world, such as the purposes of our physical bodies. We exist, in part, in no way solely and totally,  to survive and perpetuate our species and our cultures and communities. It follows that men and women have roles that the sexes dictate. Now I know women can do more than bear children and breast-feed. I know that men can do more than donate sperm in the facilitation of conception. I also know that families are the basic social unit and exist in order that children may survive and flourish.

Oddly enough, I feel that I have to apologize for the way things are, that I must acknowledge the validity of every variant from that “traditional” norm. Now I know that same sex partners are doing as good a job of raising children as heterosexual couples. But ultimately there has to be a point of departure. Making every bond and friendship, the equivalent of a family, no matter how valuable or tenuous they may be, distorts and devalues the family. They are, ultimately, artificial constructs. Families exist because individual identities become subservient to the larger paradigm of family. husband/wife, father/mother.

This is not to discount our individuality, our own uniqueness as persons. But there is a place and a time for the ego to submerge.

A Ton Of Bricks

14 Sunday Oct 2018

Posted by David in Erotic Writing, Sexuality

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

#lustful-thoughts

It hit me today, the pent-up yearning, the sexual desire, the longing to feel naked flesh against my naked flesh,to taste the salty essence of cunt. (There I wrote it out for all to read!), to grasp my lover’s ass with both hands and caress it, moving my hands up her back. I want to feel wet cunt around my hard cock. And see the orgasm seize a woman’s features and hear the cries.

To

Be

Desired

And

Desire

In

Return.

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