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01 November 2011

Guest Post: Halloween Rabbit in New York City

A few years ago I was on a business trip in the US which included a 2 night stopover in New York before pressing on to Dallas Fort Worth. At the time I was working for an online travel company and travelled quite a bit visiting our offices from London to Singapore. Apart from the obvious “perk” of being able to see the world at the company’s expense, there’s not much else going for business travel because you rarely get any time to yourself.

This trip to New York was exciting because New York is exciting, even if you only have 5 minutes to yourself. This trip to New York was also the most outrageously brilliant business trip I think I have or ever will experience… and not for business reasons, but because of the rabbit incident.

Upon reaching my hotel from the airport I had bags of jetlag, but also an appetite to dump my bags and explore the city. I wanted to enjoy a bit of New York while I had the precious time available to me on these trips for exploring. To finish the day I sought a bar close to my hotel so that I could roll my jetlagged self a short way to bed once the night was done.

I found a bar that was, like all the others, suitably decorated with Halloween fixtures and which included other essentials like friendly staff, good beer and a couple of TV screens to stare at.

After a few pints, a couple sat down next to me at the bar and upon hearing my English accent struck up a conversation with me as he too was an expat living in New York with his American girlfriend. They were also friends with the bar staff and were all gearing up for a Halloween party later that night.

As the evening progressed, more and more party goers were arriving in their costumes and we were treated to a fashion parade of naughty nurses, French maids and a dominatrix outfit. My new friends weren’t wrong when they said, ‘Halloween is the best time to be here because all the girls love to dress like sluts!”

One of the naughty nurses was carrying a rabbit vibrator round her neck and after a few drinks started waving it around and simulating fellatio with it as the party goers danced to a selection of music from the jukebox that ranged from Bon Jovi to Bob Marley. And then it happened…

It was nearing closing time and most patrons had moved on to other Halloween parties. All except my new friends and the troupe of slutty girls, including the naughty nurse with the vibrator. Now I have played my fair share of drinking games, but nothing I have ever witnessed comes close to what I was about to see.

The girls were all sitting around a long table against one of the walls and were ordering shots of tequila and who knows what else. They were playing a drinking game that I have absolutely no recollection of the rules, but the outcome of which resulted in them taking turns to expose their breasts and later removing their underwear. Then the girl with the vibrator held the rabbit in the air like Excalibur’s sword, switched it on and slowly lowered it under the table where she began to work on herself in front of her friends who were egging her on.

Before long she reached climax to shrieks of delight from her audience and then slumped back in her seat with a ridiculous grin on her face. It was at this point that I realized the girl next to her in the French maid’s uniform had commandeered the vibrator and was now pleasuring herself.

This went on to at least two more girls before I had to quietly leave the pub as the spectacle was becoming too much for a sensible business traveler like me. I paid my tab and left enough to buy the girls a round of drinks as a special thank you for my evening’s entertainment

18 August 2011

The Business of Perversion

Last week, a day of seemingly endless meetings finally ended, and I found myself heading out for after-work dinner with some coworkers. Some I knew quite well; others I'd never met. But one of the ladies with us possessed a remarkable ass, which a male coworker friend of mine and I had spent the better part of the day's meetings drooling over. And getting to ogle it for a few more hours was good enough for me.

But not enough, apparently, for my friend. As we're walking into the restaurant, I see him walking close behind her, fumbling with his phone. A couple minutes later, inside the restaurant, he sends me a photo. Of her backside. Now the pic doesn't really do that bum justice, but the point is he sent me the photo, I laughed, saved it (of course), then went about my business.

Until last weekend, when I attended a family cookout and got all silly with the Bud Light. My six year old niece, who loves playing with phones, asked if she could see mine and I quickly obliged. So she goes off, pretending to talk to someone on the phone and I get back to my drinking. Then, a few minutes later, my niece is waving the phone at her mother, my sister.

"Ew, Uncle Ken has a picture of someone's bum on his phone."

My sister took the phone from her daughter, gave it a look, raised an eyebrow in disgust, then scanned the crowd for me. I was already sprinting her way, wishing myself invisible, and blabbering whatever excuses came into my head: "Oh, yeah, a friend sent me that as a joke and I meant to delete it but I kept it andohboyisthisweirdbutitreallyisn'tmyphoneandanywayIjustneedtoblahblahblah..." I took the phone from her, and faded sheepishly into the background, where I remained for the balance of the night.

See, I can handle everyone at work thinking I'm a world class pervert (hell, no way to change their minds now, anyway). I can handle the Kenettes who wander in and out of my life thinking the same thing. But my family? Something about one of my sisters knowing I had that photo on my cell phone... it just makes me wanna join the French Foreign Legion.

I hear they've also got some hot chicks as well.

01 August 2011

And To Think He Probably Got Paid For This. Too

Like I always say, there's nothing better than hanging out in a bar with a couple of ladies.

08 July 2011

Greatest Award Acceptance Speech Ever

If you can get past the Paris Hilton bullshit, you will witness the single greatest acceptance speech in the history of televised award shows.

Better yet, just forward it to 2:15 for the magic.

22 April 2011

Another Reason Friday Rocks

Today is Friday, which is casual day at my place of employ. This means that, even as I type these words, pretty much every woman from 18 to 52 who works in our financial division is wedging herself into low-slung, too-tight jeans. This is not a day for me to be making decisions that could affect the fate of our organization or my position within it. That's what Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday are for. Today, I just slip it into neutral, and soak it all in.

The trick to getting the full show: Slide a manila folder under your arm. That's your "hall pass," so to speak. As you wander aimlessly through any place of business, so long as you're carrying a manila folder, peeps figure you've obviously transporting something of grave importance. This is particularly critical to getting into the IT wing, where many a cute young lass waits. And very likely bent over a server. Bonus!

Er, hold my calls.

11 April 2011

By Any Other Name...

So I happen to overhear a conversation between two female coworkers this morning, and one of them starts talking matter-of-factly about her boyfriend's "dink."


Honey, I wanted to say, you do your man no favors by calling it a "dink."

A newborn baby has a dink. Possibly some midgets. But not any male over the age of 16. That's about as sexy as some chick getting me all hot n' bothered, then asking if she can hold my "pee pee." Just like that ::finger snapping sound::, the tower collapses and the game's over. Thank you, and good night.

For the record, I use "cock." Not "dick" or "wang" or "Love Missile F-11." Okay, maybe there's the odd occasion where I'll use "Little Jimmy O'Sullivan," but that's typically relegated to St. Patty's Day. Or, y'know, when I'm on "bizness."

Similarly, I like it when a woman refers to her holiest of holies as her "pussy." And I'm man enough to admit that "cooter" is pretty hot too. Yeah, that's right. I said "cooter." Represent!

22 March 2011

The Ass That Stopped Traffic. Literally.

So I'm driving back to Boston from a weekend up north. And all of a sudden, traffic hits a standstill. And it wasn't in one of the typical places either (i.e., the New Hampshire tolls, the Zakim Bridge, Ma Kessler's Handjob Ranch). So I figure it's gotta be an accident. And I sit and I stare and I crawl along and after thirty minutes pass I'm starting to wonder where the fuck this parade actually ends.

And then, up ahead, I see what's keeping us down. A car by the side of the road with a girl in impossibly tight pants bent over it, checking something in the trunk (no pun intended). People were literally slowing down to look at her ass, and I even saw a couple dudes in a Jeep in front of me taking pics with their phones.

Not too many people can say they have an ass that actually caused traffic to stop. This girl can.

Oh, and I totally stroked it the rest of the way home. Hey, anything to keep myself awake.

18 March 2011

Lipps, Inc.

There are certain things I can overlook in a relationship. Psychotic behavior. Rambling stories about the ex-boyfriend. Threatening me with an empty Heineken bottle. Having to be carried out of your best friend's wedding because you drank 15 Jaeger shots and proceeded to vomit on every inch of carpeting in the reception hall. Rambling stories about how the ex-boyfriend liked your blowjobs. Erratic, almost irresponsible driving. Refusing to tip the paperboy because he "seems Mexican." Throwing all my clothes out into the driveway because I was a half-hour late coming home, even though you knew I was tending to my sick aunt.

But one thing I can't overlook is a bad kisser.

And, man, they're out there.

14 March 2011

How To Win Any Argument With a Guy: A Useful Reference for Women

Ken [looking at a photograph]: Honey. Did you fuck Bob?

Kenette: Now why would I screw your best friend?

Ken: Not sure. But someone just mailed me these photos of you fucking Bob.

Kenette [glances about nervously, then...]: Hey! I totally want to blow you right now!

Ken: Really? Hot damn! [Tosses aside photo, pants.]

10 March 2011

As If They Needed Another Reason Not to Send Me to the Conference...

I find that whenever I'm at any kind of Conference, whenever there's a female speaker at the podium, all I can think about is how it would feel to go down on her.

Seriously. From the minute she steps on the stage to the minute she leaves, I just sit there, tracing the outline of her legs with my eyes, trying to pinpoint exactly where on her body I'd begin my descent, and mentally conjuring what her reactions might be.

Have I reached the point of irreversible perversion? Do other guys do this? Do women do this when watching men speaking at a conference?

04 March 2011

Not Much of a Boob Guy

Actual conversation [as best as I can recollect] between myself and a former Kenette, whom I recently met for a post-work drink:

Kenette: See that girl's boobs? That's the worst boob job I've ever seen. She should sue.

Ken [glancing up from beer]: Huh? Sue who? You're suing someone?

Kenette: My god, why am I even pointing this out to you. You wouldn't know a set of boobs if they hit you in the face.

Ken [keeps pulling from beer]: Huh? I like boobs.

Kenette: Ken, back when we were dating, you had your tongue up my ass before you'd ever even touched my boobs. That's never happened to me before. With any guy.

Ken [takes another sip]: You sure?

Kenette [nods as she takes a swig of her beer]: Rimmed me before you'd even felt me up. That's when I knew you were a sicko.

Ken: I notice you hung around for a year. I must have done something right.

Kenette: Part of it was fascination. How long will it be before this guy actually has his mouth on my boobs.

Ken [trying to think back]: I'm sure I did... at some point, right?

Kenette [shakes her head in mock disgust and finishes her beer.]

01 March 2011

There Goes My Morning Productivity

Today was supposed to be a big day for me. A couple reports to finalize. A last-minute conference call. Meeting with a vendor.

Then my buddy Raster sent me a link to a website called "Girls in Yoga Pants." And everything kinda unraveled from there.

So now if you'll excuse me, I have to go masturbate myself into a state of unconsciousness.

::Places "closed" sign in window.::

17 February 2011

Guest Post: What WON'T You Do in Bed?

Well, shortly after I wrote my last post I contracted a double cock-punch of the flu and a strep infection -- none of which, I'm sure, has any connection to the woman I was rimming just two nights prior. Anyway, I apologize for the lack of posting and figgered I'd kick off the return with another scintillating guest post. This one's from the lovely Simone of Skinny Dip. And it's damn good:

* * * * * * * *

What won't you do in bed?

I'm pretty open-minded when it comes to Sex. My whole philosophy is "everything is worth trying at least once" (well, almost everything). When Ken asked me to write this post about Sexual Deal-breakers, I actually had to sit down with a drink and ponder, "What exactly WON'T I do in bed?". After some deep soul-searching and a couple of glasses of Bailey's Irish Cream, I've come up with my master list of Sexual Deal-Breakers. In other words, "a list of stuff that the mere mention of is guaranteed to turn my girl parts inwards" or alternatively titled "stuff to do if you want me to kick you out of bed". Drum-roll please!

1. Water-Sports: The thing that you have to understand about me is that I am your text book Virgo. I love cleanliness, I love order, I love crisp white sheets. I'm kind of obsessed with all things bedroom and bedding related. I make my bed every morning as soon as I get out of bed because if I don't I feel like it sets a bad tone for the day (I even do this when I stay in hotels, even though I know I don't have to). I lust after designer duvet covers & keep my bed in tip top shape because I want it to always be this fresh, fluffy, cozy oasis for sleep & sex. With that said, any kind of sexual activity that involves urination will never take place chez moi. Its not so much the idea of peeing on someone or having someone pee on me (no, wait I TOTALLY DON'T WANT ANYONE PEEING ON ME) its more the clean-up factor. If you think you're going to get me to pee on you while you're lying on my 300-thread count Hungarian down duvet you're out of luck. The only way it might work is if there was extensive plastic sheeting laid out before hand. But, who really wants to stop mid-sex so they can create a condom-like bedroom environment? Which brings me to my first rule of thumb when it comes to sexual experimentation: If a sex act requires me to make my bedroom look like one of Dexter's "kill sites" or involves extensive "clean-up" afterward, its not happening.

2. The "Hot Lunch" or the "Blumpie". Rule of thumb #2: if a sexual act requires me to do a search on Urban Dictionary to find out what it is, its also probably not happening. This is definitely the case with the "Hot Lunch" and the "Blumpie". Did you read the definitions?! Are you throwing up in your mouth yet? ARE YOU?! Because I am. Also, I think the inclusion of both of these on the Sexual Deal-breakers list is pretty self-explanatory. Sex and making a shadoobie are two things that in my opinion just shouldn't go together. I know there is a bumper sticker that says "Is Sex Dirty? Only when its done right!" however, the "Hot Lunch" takes that to a whole new level. I'm guessing post "Hot-Lunch" probably involves some pretty interesting clean up. The only good that has come from learning the definition of a "Hot Lunch" is that now whenever I pass that diner in my hometown that has a sign that says "We specialize in Hot Lunches", I burst into hysterics.

3. Furry Sex: Once again I had to consult Urban Dictionary for this one. "Furry" sex is a term usually used to describe the act of two people having sex with each other while dressed in furry animal costumes. I think its pretty obvious why most people wouldn't be into this. Lots of people fantasize about having sex on a bear skin rug, very few people fantasize about having sex with a bear skin rug. I mean, I'm not even into chest hair - the last thing I want is for you to try and bone me while you're dressed as Tony the Tiger and I'm wearing a fuzzy unicorn one-sie. Furry sex mystifies me more than anything. How does one actually have sex while also wearing a fuzzy animal costume? Do the costumes include some kind of "trap door" like those old school pajamas with the bum-flap? Or, do they work more like a giant pair of fuzzy crotchless underwear? Where does one buy a crotchless animal costume? I guess I could Google this but honestly I'm afraid to find out.

4. Rape Fantasies: Besides the obvious power dynamics at play here, I've never understood why guys have the fantasy of sleeping with a woman who's pretending to not want to sleep with them. I love to please my partner & I'll gladly act out most fantasies (as long as they don't involve an animal costume) but, this is one I just can't do. The only time I've tried this, I felt like my skin was crawling & I was going to throw up. I don't mind a little bit of hand-cuff play & light spanking but, generally I don't like to be dominated. I'm more of a "tie you to the bed with a pair of my thigh highs & do naughty things to you while you beg for mercy" kind of girl. That's just how I roll.

5. Biting: Years and years ago, I dated this guy who would try and bite me every time we were in bed. After we broke up I found out he belonged to a group that put on "Vampire Role Play parties" and that he was a two-timing creep who liked to have his cake and bite it too. Now, whenever I feel teeth brush against my neck or any other body part I get this sicky feeling and I am reminded of that guy, his basement apartment that smelled like marijuana, his creepy friends & the fact that he kept a life sized stuffed plush tiger on his bed. Wow, that's a lot of deal breakers in one paragraph! Simply put, I just don't like biters (or adult males who own large stuffed animals). This also applies to the guys who think its OK to use their teeth while going down on a girl. I've had enough experience to know that treating my lady parts like you are eating a cob of corn at the State Fair does not constitute "doing it right".

I realize that this list is completely subjective. What makes me cringe, might have the complete opposite effect on someone else. Some of you may think this list makes me incredibly close-minded. There are no right or wrong answers here. Everyone has their own tastes & preferences. That's what makes sex so fascinating.

What are some of your sexual deal-breakers?