Sunday, May 27, 2012

What is Porn?

My review of Q a few days ago seems to have aroused some discussion among visitors and regular readers as to what truly constitutes porn.  Which I must admit surprised me - this blog has scarcely gone out of its way to avoid porn over the years; how strange that controversy arises when I turn my attention to something that isn't pornographic?

So perhaps we need to establish what we mean by the word "pornography."

For some people, the presence of non-simulated sex automatically renders a film pornographic, regardless of the presentation itself.  And presumably this extends to other art forms too - paintings, photographs, sculpture, the frescos excavated from the remains of Pompeii - until all depictions of sex, whatever the motives behind their creation, are swept under the derogatory carpet of "porn."  Because it is a derogatory term, one which ensures that nothing the creator says can defend or even justify his work in the eyes of the "majority."

Or perhaps "pornography" is simply any gratuitous exhibition that the exhibitor knows and intends step outside of the societal norm, and that can encompass anything from a true XXX movie (and anyone who describes Q as XXX material clearly hasn't watched much... if any) to a banker publicizing his latest bonus.

It is intent, not content, that defines pornography, and Q falls as far from that criteria as any other movie themed towards an adult audience... which is very different to an adult movie.  I agree that there is a need for appropriate terminology, for Q and for those other movies that have stepped into similar waters.  But please, keep "pornography" out of it.

We're meant to be clearing the waters, not muddying them further.

Friday, May 25, 2012

A Vampire Book That Doesn't Bite!

Anyone with a more or less respectable shelf full of erotic short stories will quickly begin to recognize the same names recurring again and again, those authors who mastery of the form allows them to walk into any anthology they choose to. And maybe, just maybe, your heart sinks as you see some of them because... well, even the best lover can get repetitive after a while.

Welcome, then, to “Girls Who Bite: Lesbian Vampire Erotica,” an anthology whose fifteen contributors certainly are not wide-eyed ingenues taking their first bold steps into print. But they’re not the familiar warhorses of a dozen other titles, either. Which works, because the stories they contribute are not familiar ones, either. 

read more at Eden Fantasys

Sunday, May 20, 2012

The Clit-erion Collection: Q (Desire) (2011)

Building the ultimate porn library, one great flick at a time

There are worse ways of spreading the word about a new French language movie than isolating the naughty bits and stringing them together on Redtube and the like.  Worse ways, too, than seeding the Internet with stills and clips of actress Deborah Revy naked or kneeling for a mouthful of cock.  And showing that mouthful in all of its mouthwatering glory.
But still, anybody walking into director Laurent Bouhnik’s Q (Desire) expecting a wall to wall fuck fest is in for a surprise, as French film-making turns out another in that long line of movies (Betty BlueThe Hairdresser’s Husband etc) destined to become a Stateside cult favorite simply by virtue of its honesty.  
 is nominally the story of Cecile, mid-20s and stunning, mourning the recent death of her father - whose ashes she carries around in a Tupperware container - by making a pass or more at almost every guy who comes close to her... with the exception of the one guy who makes the pass first.  He just winds up in a ball on the floor, clutching his crushed testicles.  

Her own boyfriend Chance (Johnny Amaro) isn’t exactly blameless; more interested, it seems, in hanging out with his mates than spending time with Cecile, we meet him naked in the kitchen by a blinking neon light, with an equally unclothed Cecile attempting to pump some life into him.  Unsuccessfully.  So she looks elsewhere - and not necessarily deliberately,  but certainly with a degree of cunning, she begins to weave together the lives of a handful of local youth, male and female, bad boys and businessmen, simply by doing what she seems to do best.  Looking gorgeous.
She is delightfully shameless.  One guy is seduced while he talks with his own girlfriend.  Another is spellbound simply so she can steal his cellphone.  And when a couple of attempts to get the local pointy-faced goth guy Matt (Gowan Didi - who really ought to be the next Johnny Depp) into bed fall short at the very heavy petting point, she turns her attention to his girlfriend Alice (Helene Zimmer), who herself undergoes a fascinating metamorphosis as the movie goes on.  
The first time we see her, she is the drawn-faced, bespectacled nerd girl whose first shot at giving her boyfriend a blowjob is memorable more for her conversation than her technique.  The second-to-last time, she is half-naked in the bathroom while Cecile finger fucks her to what was probably the first decent orgasm of her entire mouse-like life.  
In between times, she is ogled by a construction worker, fingered while her mom stands just feet away - and Cecile’s not-quite-unwilling collaborator in one of the hottest reconciliation scenes you’ll see, as an estranged couple are lured separately, and unknowingly, to a deserted house, blindfolded and stripped and then placed on a couch, while other hands reintroduce them to one another.   Watch it and wriggle.
So am I still insisting Q isn’t a porn flick?  I am.  For a start, there are no lingering close-ups of penetrative sex, no splattering cum shots or wide, gaping assholes.  It is true, that sure ain’t no popsicle that Cecile pulls out of Matt’s unzipped pants and sucks like it’s going out of fashion; and when she lures the bland businessman to a beach hut assignation, then pushes him to his knees before her, his tongue knows exactly where to go.  
But the sex in Q is just a part of the movie’s attraction and fascination.  Cecile is unquestionably the catalyst and cause of a lot of desire, but her actions are designed around a more-than-plausible subplot.  Likewise, the lives of the movie’s main characters are lived around, and not amidst, the eroticism, all the more so as Cecile’s policy of sultry subversion begins to blur with a couple of local gangbangers’ feud with a local businessmen.  
Beautiful camerawork, sensitive subtitles (at least on the UK version; I've not yet seen the US edition) and an almost-unanimously good-looking cast (at least among the younger generation) are the icing on this 103 minute cake; Bouhnik’s direction is exquisite and the French coastal scenery is a picture postcard in itself.  In other words... well, I stumbled on Q courtesy of an eleven minute montage of sex scenes on the aforementioned tube site, and now rank it among my favorite European movies of all time.  Watch it and you will probably feel the same way.

Saturday, May 19, 2012

Last night....

I was dressed to kill, but I doubt that anyone noticed.  The music was so loud that you had to shout even when you whispering, and the moshpit was so crowded that you had no choice but to move with the rest of the audience, a rhythmic swaying and surging that threatened to topple you off balance, even as the people packed against you made certain that you wouldn’t ever fall.  
I closed my eyes and went with the flow, only dimly aware of all the points on my body where others were squashed against me – an elbow here, a shoulder there, a purse somewhere else, and I don’t know what it was about that pressure on my ass but  I knew it wasn’t anything I’d have expected to find.  I turned my head as much as I could and the guy standing behind me caught my eye and smiled, which was when I knew for sure what it was.  He had a hard-on like you wouldn’t believe and the only thing stopping it from sliding up my ass were his jeans and my sequins.

I tried to wriggle away but couldn’t, the crowd was too thick.  And part of me, I realized, wasn’t trying too hard, either.  There’s something oddly arousing about having a complete stranger just a few millimeters of denim away from fucking you up the ass.  Besides, a new outfit always turns me on, and I'd just hit the motherlode.   

When a particularly hard surge separated us for a moment, I was shocked to find myself feeling disappointed.  He was still behind me, I knew, but his body had changed its angle just enough that the wonderful pressure I’d been riding for so long was gone.  And I missed it.  

I wriggled my ass, hoping to make contact again.  Nothing.  Just the hardness of his hips… but at least I knew I was close.  I shifted from one foot to the other, stepped a little to the left – ah, that’s better.  He was still off target but an inch or two more – and then I felt him again, hard between my butt cheeks and I wondered what had changed to make him feel so much more “real”?  Which was when I reached behind me with one hand and came into contact with flesh.  Hard, hot flesh.

I turned again, and he was still looking at me.  Not a bad looking guy, either – probably no-one I’d have gone home with, or even looked at twice under normal circumstances.  But the volume of the music, the heat of the crowd, the sudden unexpectedness of everything else – I curled my fingers around his cock, moved away slightly to give myself room, and began gently jerking him off to the rhythm, long hard tugs that pulled the breath from his body, short, fast twists that just seemed to make him harder.  
His hand was on my tit, squeezing, teasing.  My wrist was twisted but I didn’t care.  I just kept on jerking him and when he came, a sudden flood that splashed hot on my fist, I kept going, massaging him back to softness as his hand touched mine to let me know I should stop. I wiped my hand dry on his jeans and turned my attention back to the concert, and the next time I turned around, he was gone.
This post was sponsored by EdenFantasys

Thursday, May 17, 2012

The Clit-erion Collection: Sanatorium - Watch it with the lights on

Building the ultimate porn library, one great flick at a time

I have often wondered about XXX DVDs whose packaging recommends them to “Couples.”  As opposed to... Threesomes?  Lonely Singles?  Orgies?  Hope you have a really big screen for that one.
Sanatorium lays down its groundrules early on, laying bare the hypocrisy that every passing news week insists lays behind the political point-scoring war against porn; in this case, an uptight Utah Senator who will speak on TV about the need to legislate against hardcore video, then pay for a lesbian live show in his hotel.  
Similar jibes are made in movies as far afield as Who’s Naylin’ Paylin and This Ain’t Fox News, but the photography here is a class above most, and I’m still celebrating a scene that allows the visuals and a well-chosen soundtrack to lead the way, and not the over-wrought yowling of an alley-cat in heat.  Sorry, I mean the “fuck-me-fuck-me-fuck-me” bleatings of the average XXX hottie.  Hmm... looks like there isn’t a nice way of saying that, is there?
read more at Eden Fantasys

Tuesday, May 15, 2012

The Visitor

New from Mischief Books, another great collections of short stories, including my tale "Death By V."

"The sexy allure of the vampire remains as strong and fresh as blood. They’re just too handsome and charming to resist, though a tussle with a prince or daughter of darkness can be deadly. This collection of erotica explores the lusts of the vampire with considerably less restraint than paranormal romance."

Sunday, May 13, 2012


Another great title from Mischief Books, Confessions - Tales of Female Misbehaviour features my story "The Cocksucking Chronicles," together with a wealth of other excellent tales!

"Pursuing secret and irresistible desires and then confessing it all, is the theme of this explicit erotica anthology. One woman just has to expose herself to her hot neighbours from her apartment window. Another girl works in a sex shop and can’t keep her hands off the products or the customers. A woman’s tennis partner is too tempting to resist in the showers. And when a women’s reading group chooses foreplay as its subject, the revelations lead to the kind of misbehaviour most people only get to read about."

Friday, May 11, 2012

Whippings and Apologies

Five or six years ago, the guy I was seeing at the time decided to re-invent himself as a sexual dominant. I’m not sure which website he took the idea from (the source of way too many male fantasies these days), and he never got around to telling me what was happening, either. A few slaps on the ass in public clued me into the fact that something was going on, and a mumbled “yeah, you like that, don’t you bitch” when he tweaked my nipple in the shower one day prompted me to ask him, “what the f---...?” And that was the end of that. Apparently a good submissive will never ask awkward questions. She will just accept her Master’s will as her own.

I’m sorry, but I disagree. I disagreed with it before, I disagreed with it at the time and, having read the twenty-two short stories that comprise “Please, Sir,” I disagree with it even more now.

Dominance (and, indeed, submission) is not simply a matter of him demanding “suck my dick” and her replying “how deep shall I take it?” 

read more at Eden Fantasys

Wednesday, May 9, 2012

For Suckers Only...

Simon Says... make a sexy sundae by drizzling your favorite topping such s chocolate or honey all over your lover’s penis and balls. Simon Says... playfully lick, kiss and suck his Sweet spot. Simon Says... give your man 20 minutes of oral sex while he is standing up.

Yeah, right. Do it properly and his legs will have buckled after five.

But no worries, because the Amazing Fellatio Instructional Deck is full of handy hints and taunting tips like that, and seriously, if anybody reading this really needs “52 Oral Sex Tips,” they’re not going to find them here...   read the rest at Eden Fantasys...

Monday, May 7, 2012

Going Down!

"Do you speak French?"

No, I don't.  Well, not much.  But that's the title of the story I contributed to Rachel Kramer Bussel's latest anthology, Going Down, and when you read it you'll know why.

It's a wonderful collection, and I say that after reading only a handful of the other stories... because I know the rest will be just as much fun.  So, without further ado - here's the contents page, and Rachel's introduction.  or you could just jump over to Amazon and buy it right now.

And we can all speak French together.

Introduction: Intense Intimacy and Erotic Power
Pretty Dull Charlotte Stein
Milk Moustache Jacqueline Applebee
Lavender Cynthia Hamilton
Etiquette Sylvia Lowry
Stacked Logan Zachary
Sucking Casey’s Cock Shanna Germain
Getting Something Out of It Annabeth Leong
Bubble Dance Jeremy Edwards
Seriously Jeanette Grey
Shuck It Dusty Horn
Dover to Victoria Station Roxy Rogers
Blush Mary Borsellino
Clean/Dirty Lucy Felthouse
Trimming Tenille Brown
Your Body Is a Temple Neil Gavriel
New Additions Rachel Kramer Bussel
Do You Speak French? Chrissie Bentley
Close Your Eyes Viktoria Michaelis
Snow Job A. M. Hartnett
The Perfect Shade Elizabeth Coldwell
The Thousand and One Ways Graydancer
Introduction: Intense Intimacy and Erotic Power
I thought I knew, if not everything, quite a bit about the fine art of oral sex until I started to read the stories that came in for Going Down. In them, giving and receiving head became its own, if you’ll pardon the pun, head trip, and showed me that there is plenty for even the most seasoned connoisseur to learn and enjoy about an act that brings pleasure to so many.
If you’re reading this and thinking, But I’m not really sure I like it… or some variation thereof, I encourage you to keep reading. You just may surprise yourself when you thrill to the risky, risque and exciting ways these men and women find to get off while giving and getting head. There is the thrill of the chase, along with the thrill of being the taster and tastee, but there is also a lot more going on here. Perhaps because oral sex can bring up our uncertainties, there is a depth to these stories as the characters boldly go where many of us would like to go, if only we had the courage⎯or the kind of partner who can push us over that particular hurdle into the bliss that awaits.
While these tales aren’t necessarily ones I’d encourage you to emulate, they are ones that will capture your erotic imagination and, perhaps, make you think about things you’d like to try, or just give you a few minutes of delight.
So just what will you find in Going Down? There’s a woman who knows “The Thousand and One Ways” to show her lover her devotion. There’s the couple who wind up watching an erotic scene on the big screen so scandalous, plenty of people walk out⎯but not them. You’ll find oysters given the lusty honor they deserve in Dusty Horn’s “Shuck It” as two lovers dine on a sumptuous meal before discovering all the power play they can share by giving themselves over to each other.
The intimacy of climbing between someone else’s legs, of discovering what happens when you peel them open and utterly expose them, leaving them aching, trembling, willing to do anything to have you keep going, is a theme that is repeated here. Lovers get off on the thrill of being in command, in control, giving and taking joy in ways that leave the other person breathless. “There’s no rush of power quite like it in the world, that knowledge that you can make another person come, can release her desire and expose her most secret and vulnerable parts. That’s my favorite part of sex,” writes Mary Borsellino in “Blush.”
For some of these characters, oral sex leads them into new territory that brings revelations about much more than sex: Paige in “Getting Something Out of It,” by Annabeth Leong, lets go of the memory of a selfish lover and finds that when she takes control and owns what she’s doing when she goes down with a new lover, the act is special for both of them. Characters facing gender transitions, and their lovers, discover what remains and what is gloriously new about this most personal of changes.
Going Down covers a range of ways you can serve up oral pleasure, as well as reaons you just might enjoy it. I hope it will inspire you to think about the tongue as a tool of echantment, a center of excitement at least as powerful as the one between your legs.
Rachel Kramer Bussel
New York City