I didn't write this, but I couldn't help but post it. God damn!

Posted by Jamye Waxman on June 17, 2011 at 6:41 PM
[url]http://thestir.cafemom.com/love_sex/121763/one_of_the_most_detested[/url]

I've always been a swallower. As a child, I swallowed anything the vacuum cleaner failed to pick up. Crayons. Paper. Nose boogers. Nothing felt dirty or wrong, even if the look on my mother's face told me otherwise. It wasn't until I started giving blow jobs that I thought about what I swallowed. I had given up breast milk long before then, and the idea of swallowing something out of someone else's body felt odd. But anything feels strange until you get used to doing it.

There's a lot of chatter over the age old sex debate, to spit or swallow, but when it comes to decisions, this is an easy one. If you love your partner and can muster up enough strength to take one for the team, take one for the team. Not only do guys love it when women swallow -- something about the whole completion thing -- but there are actually measurable benefits to swallowing, too.

1. Semen can boost your mood. Sure, this study had to do with intercourse, but if the hormones in semen, mainly testosterone and estrogen, make women happy when they screw, why wouldn't they make women happy when they swallow? Going on that theory, swallowing can make you happier. So next time the kids are screaming for SpongeBob, think about the benefits of another type of bob. The head bob.

2. Semen does a body good, pass it on. That's right, semen may be a cure for sore throats and diabetes! The next time you eat too much sugar and worry about your insulin levels, balance it out with a little semen (and, of course, talk to your doctor). If you lose your voice shouting at the kids for fighting, protect your throat with semen. These are only some of the possible medical benefits for semen. I can only imagine what else science will uncover about swallowing. Perhaps it's the cure for world hunger?

3. Semen can taste good. Like French fries or fruit, it all depends on what he eats. When you're looking for a filling snack, why not a little love juice? It's high in protein and only 20 calories per teaspoon. And when he eats celery, cranberries, watermelon, and drinks pineapple juice, he'll taste even juicer.

4. And for those who can't get themselves to swallow, fear not. You should feel good knowing that a little semen on your face may do wonders for your skin. According to The Sexual Teachings of the White Tigress, semen facials are good for you. And in her memoir, I'm Wild Again, even Helen Gurley Brown recommends the semen facial: "Spread semen over your face, [it's] probably full of protein as sperm can eventually become babies. Makes a fine mask — and he'll be pleased."

Do you prefer to spit or swallow?

Couldn't help but share this...

But it's ok because I'm a survivor of childhood sexual abuse too...


The Commonwealth of Pennsylvania Penitentiary Association’s Prisoner Liason for Environmental Awareness department (COPPA-PLEA) today announced that it will soon be offering, free of charge, silver plated Jerry Sandusky Memorial Shower Head awards to every inmate that is willing to conserve energy by bathing with a friend. Golden shower head awards will go to any group of three or more who participate in the initiative.

In a related matter, Penn State University has announced that every boy 14 and under who attends a Nittany Lion athletic competition during the 2012 through 2069 seasons will be given a token good for their very own silver plated Jerry Sandusky Memorial Shower Head, to be redeemed at various penitentiaries throughout the state. It is believed that this is a pre-emptive move by the University board, in light of recent allegations of poor hygiene among the Commonwealth’s disadvantaged children.

Hookers actually look like this?!!! Maybe I should have been paying for it all along...


Charge: Prostitution
(Naperville Police Department photo / November 12, 2010)

from the Chicago Tribune

From the Chicago Sun-Times:

November 11, 2010
(GURNEE) A northwest suburban woman has been charged after she allegedly threatened an officer Tuesday with what police called a “rigid female pleasure device.”

Carolee Bildsten, 56, of Gurnee, was charged with one misdemeanor count of aggravated assault and theft of labor, Gurnee police Cmdr. Jay Patrick said.

Carolee Bildsten, 56, is accused of walking out of a Gurnee restaurant without paying and threatening an officer with a sex toy.

Bildsten allegedly walked out on a tab at Joe’s Crab Shack in Gurnee on Tuesday.
An officer was told by a restaurant employee that Bildsten came into the restaurant and ordered a dinner and wine, then went outside and sat on a bench. Police were called because Bildsten had apparently skipped out on a restaurant bill two weeks prior, a police release said.

Bildsten was found near Six Flags Great America lying in the grass on the South Side of Grand Avenue, the release said. An officer spoke to her and she told him she was OK. She appeared to be intoxicated and the officer told her she had to pay her bill.

When she said she had money at her apartment and could pay the bill, an officer escorted her to her nearby residence, the release said. Once there she walked into her bedroom, opened a dresser drawer and reached inside and removed a "clear, rigid feminine pleasure device" and held it over her head, approaching the officer in a "threatening manner," the release said.

The officer knocked the device out of the way before he could be hit and placed Bildsten under arrest, the release said.

Bildsten was released on a personal recognizance bond and issued a court date of Dec. 6 at the Lake County courthouse, Patrick said. She was also charged with pedestrian under the influence for walking on public roadways while intoxicated.

Obviously she wanted to cold cock him...

From the Los Angeles Times:

For naked-people watching, a newly opened park on abandoned elevated train tracks on the West Side of Manhattan can't be beat. Uninhibited guests at the Standard Hotel are happy to oblige.

September 17, 2009|Geraldine Baum
NEW YORK — Two couples, both from out of town, linger on the same park bench, gazing up at gauzy curtains in the windows of a 19-story hotel. They don't know each other, but there they are, on a sunny Labor Day afternoon, hoping to steal a glimpse of, well, for lack of a more delicate way to put it, naked people.

Voyeurism became New York's hot attraction this summer after guests were photographed in the buff prancing about, even having sex, in front of floor-to-ceiling windows at the Standard Hotel in the hip Meatpacking District.

These shenanigans unfolded as a result of a series of unintended circumstances. Start with the opening of the High Line Park, built on abandoned railroad tracks three stories above the street. Add a swank hotel, hoisted by massive pylons that straddle the High Line. Then bring on the combustible element: New Yorkers and tourists, who flocked to see the city's newest additions. As they walked the High Line, they quickly realized there was more to see than they could have dared to hope. With that, the High Line became a stage set as well as a destination.


All summer, images of the Standard's bawdy guests spread like cyber wildfire, and the management seemed to relish the attention, even encouraging new arrivals in the lobby to go ahead and "just have fun!" The hotel's blog, ever briefly, linked to photos of two unclothed women in provocative positions. Now, the curious assemble regularly.

This 21st century urban voyeurism is the next logical step in a society that has been peeping and poking into private lives, with all of us participating, on reality TV, through social networking, and in confessional interviews and memoirs. It's what brought Bob and Beverly Taylor of Virginia, and Mike Louvascio and his girlfriend, Marilyn, of Long Island to share that bench on the High Line.

"We're nudists," says Bob, 55, introducing himself. The Taylors often vacation in the big city, but this time the much-publicized peep show at the Standard is at the top of their to-do list. "This was our next cool thing to see," says Beverly, 49.

Louvascio, 64, and Marilyn, who won't reveal her age or last name, are here for the shopping. Well, that's what drew Marilyn. Mike admits he has little interest in the area's designer boutiques that once were warehouses stacked with bloody animal carcasses.

Voyeurs have a new perch in New York
COLUMN ONEFor naked-people watching, a newly opened park on abandoned elevated train tracks on the West Side of Manhattan can't be beat. Uninhibited guests at the Standard Hotel are happy to oblige.
September 17, 2009|Geraldine Baum(Page 2 of 4)"I'd rather be hunting," he says of his favorite sport, shooting deer with bow and arrow. But "seeing naked people," he hurries up and explains, "is something to do."

Hal Niedzviecki, a cultural expert and author, laughs. He's not surprised by this turn toward group peeping.

"A city like New York always has people who want to be watched and enjoy watching," he says. "But the way society is moving, rather than feel, 'Oh, my God, there are times we have to close the drapes,' it's 'Let's keep them open, all the time, and let whoever wants to take pictures go ahead.' Under the influence of Facebook, Twitter, YouTube, blogging, that very New York attitude is spreading around the world."

In "The Peep Diaries," published in May, Niedzviecki reflects on the ambitions and confusion of a growing number of people who are willing to trade details of their private lives for catharsis, attention and notoriety.

"It's one thing to have sex for the enjoyment of four or five tourists watching from the High Line, it's another for the hotel to make a profit off it, to have people recording it, putting it up on websites. . . . You lose control over what you're doing. Where are we heading with that?"

Not that visual contact, as a pro sport, is anything new to New Yorkers who live up close, in see-through glass towers, balconied tenements and apartment complexes built around gardens.

Putting aside sexual gratification for a minute (or not), voyeurism is a part of everyday life here. Who hasn't made up a story about a neighbor on the next balcony who suns herself on summer weekends or the mother in the apartment across an air shaft who meticulously lays out breakfast for her two children?

While the tabloids chronicled the mischief at the Standard this summer, a former New Yorker identified only as "Hof," wrote eloquently in an online forum about how most New Yorkers imagine life behind "window and curtains."

"Who among us, while wandering the streets of New York, has not let loose our personal voyeur and looked up at the lighted, curtained windows of a stylish brownstone or at one of the glowing dots on a massive high-rise on a foggy night, and watched the people move around in their space and wondered what kind of lives were being played out just behind the glass?? You KNOW what I mean because you've done it, too."

Peering, leering, observing -- it has long been the quintessence of city life. In the 18th century, French poet Charles Baudelaire defined the spirit of the flaneur, or the urban stroller, who saunters aimlessly with nothing more to do than experience the city. Alfred Hitchcock's film "Rear Window" portrayed a detached spectator with binoculars and raised the ethics of such spying.

But there's no thrill, on a crowded island like Manhattan, like a new green space -- and the unique perspective it offers.

Opened in June, the High Line floats for 1.5 miles along the western edge of Manhattan. Familiar with the eagle's view and the street view, New Yorkers, like birds on a new branch, suddenly are waist-high to buildings. It's not just cheap thrills that mesmerize. From its rare perch, the park threads among old buildings and over parking lots from Gansevoort to West 20th Street and eventually will extend to 34th Street.

Now New Yorkers can appraise the contemporary art on the walls of a conference room in the Phillips de Pury & Co. auction house; they can look through a wall of glass that overlooks northbound traffic on 10th Avenue. An old carwash is rediscovered and becomes a valuable piece of real estate. There is also a sun deck with dark wood lounge chairs facing the Hudson River, a public art project of colorful glass, and cafe tables with chairs that offer a sliver of a view of the Statue of Liberty.

Narrow in places and wide in others, overgrown with echinacea plants and assorted weeds, the High Line feels more like a promenade than a park. People, even the most sophisticated and best-traveled New Yorkers, don't walk there -- they stroll.

A few days before the start of New York Fashion Week, designer Diane von Furstenberg flees her studio for her public/private garden, the High Line. Von Furstenberg's signature thicket of hair, dark eyes and confident gait make her easy to recognize, but New Yorkers, who pride themselves on cool indifference in the presence of celebs, leave her alone.

She and her mogul husband, Barry Diller, donated $5 million in 2005 to help build the park. (They later gave an additional $10 million.) But it is not naked frolickers who interest von Furstenberg.

"It's a very nice crowd," she notes, smiling at two men canoodling on a bench. "There's so much to do, so beautiful to have the sunset on the West Side at this time of day."

Her bathtub could be viewed by guests in the Standard or from that bench where Bob and Beverly Taylor and Mike Louvascio and his girlfriend, Marilyn, are stationed.

But von Furstenberg always draws the curtains.

That's not how the Taylors would do it if they were staying at the Standard.

"But why aren't you staying there yourselves, and doing your [nudist] thing?" Marilyn asks.

The two couples, after overhearing each other describe what drew them to gaze upward, are suddenly talking.

"It's too expensive for us to stay there," says Beverly, quoting rates as high as $705. But if they could afford it, they would take a room and undress for all to see, Bob says. But not for the excitement that some get from exhibitionism.

"For us," Bob says, "it's about freedom."

Marilyn looks skeptical. "Those people," she says, eyeing a 10th-floor hotel guest lounging in her underwear on a bed with the curtains open, "are interested in performing. They get off on it."

Bob shrugs.

Dusk settles in as a truck rattles on the cobbled street below. Most of the curtains are drawn at the Standard. For now, it looks no more exciting than the standard Howard Johnson. The afternoon crowd is dispersing, and seasoned voyeurs -- those who know how much sharper and clearer a view of a lighted bedroom is at night -- are making their way toward the High Line.

Will there be a show at midnight?

Sorry I scared you away sweet troonie. I meant no harm. Just wanted to play some more b/c you got me so hot the 1st time. Alas, it's not to be...

Honestly, your secrets are and always will be safe with me. I am a real NNer who was so thrilled by you that I did work hard to find you. You're probably worried that I know you somehow or that I'm some kind of spy but I'm not. I only know of you thru our previous chat. And I would NEVER put you at risk in any way.

I'm sorry to see you go, troon. May life be good to you.

Art

Judge: Exposure Law Is Gender Specific
By Associated Press
Fri Oct 20, 2:57 PM

Calif. - A judge dismissed an indecent exposure charge against a woman accused of disrobing in front of a 14-year-old boy, saying the law only applies to men. Superior Court Judge Robert W. Armstrong said earlier in the week that the law only mentions someone who "exposes his person."

"It's gender specific," Armstrong said.

He dismissed a misdemeanor charge against a woman who was cited in May after parents of a neighbor boy said she showed him full-frontal nudity as he played basketball.

Prosecutor Alison N. Norton said the decision to throw out the case will be appealed because another section of state law says that "words used in the masculine gender include the feminine and neuter."

Norton said the woman had complained that the 14-year-old was making too much noise while playing basketball. She went out on her sundeck.

"He looked up at her, she looked down at him, and she disrobed," Norton contended.

The boy ran inside and told his parents, who complained to the neighbor.

"She threatened to do it every time he played basketball," and the parents called police, Norton said.


What's wrong with this 14 year old? If I were him I'd be playing basketball all day and all night! What would you do?

So one day I get incredibly horny (much like I am right now) and I decided to take some shots of myself naked in front of the bathroom window. I set up the camera to show that there is a building just across from mine where anyone could have looked out and saw what I was up to. I didn't think anyone was around, so I figured it was pretty safe.

There I am stroking myself, standing as close to the window as possible, posing every few seconds while the self timer snapped off a few shots and the flash (good name for it) lit up the room. I was feeling pretty good imagining women from NN finding my pics and getting hot themselves just looking at me. I fantasized about them wanting my cock. Wishing they could stroke it like I was, or better yet sit on the edge of the tub and slide my hard meat across their damp soft lips, licking my stretched skin, tasting my precum and getting more turned on by it. This got me to wanking pretty hard.

Stepping back toward reality, I pictured some of my favorite posters like very-very-bad-girl, _scriptedpage_, LeFeeVerte or ditzybutsexy getting so turned on in front of their computers that they just had to caress their tits, squeeze each nipple and finally dive their trembling hands into their dampening panties to feel the awsome wet heat of their pussies, fingers finding blossoming lips, softly but eargerly dipping inside to lubricate each trembling fingertip, then rapidly fluttering against that sensitive glowing nub of nerves and calling out my name bringing up wave after wave of wild pleasure! It IS my fantasy after all.

Anyway, I was absorbed in my uh, work until I heard some one out side talking. I quickly jumped to the side of the window fearing that sombody's grandmother was out there about to have a heart attack (or call the police!) Stopping all motion, tried to quiet my panting and listened. What I heard was two women causally chatting about this or that, and they didn't sound like they were dotty old grandmas either. I realized they were probably out walking their dogs, and as dog owners will do, stopped to admire each other's puppies.

I had to see who this was and find out if they looked disturbed or angry, or were pulling out their cell phone sto turn me in. So I peeked around the corner, out the window as I heard them saying good bye, and just as I did, this very attractive blonde looked up at my window and caught my eye. I was terrified!

I jumped back into hiding trying to figure out if she had just seen me then, or had been aware of my presence for any length of time. But I realized that when she saw my face and my torso crouched down to the window she had smiled. It wasn't a neighborly smile, but it wasn't an I-know-what-you're-doin' smile either.

Not knowing what to think of that, I slid down into the bathtub and basically sweated for a few long moments. But then I heard her talking again. She can't be talking to me, I thought, so I stayed quiet and again, just listened. Her voice was happy and cheerful. She was talking to her dog I realized, but there was something not quite dog owner like about her voice. For one thing it was louder than most people would be if they were talking to their pet.

And then I realized she was being encouraging. To the dog. At least anyone passing by would have gotten that idea. Maybe it was my oversexed mind making me think that way, but when I heard her saying, "Come on! Come on boy! You can do it!" my erection sprang back to life and my hand sprang back into action. I started masturbating like I never had before. My extreme effort was making me breathe hard, and as I let out a few test pants to see if there'd be any reaction. To my joy, she then added, "Yeah, that's it, that's it!", and I grabbed my dick again with ferocity.

Wanting to make this a true exchange, I developed a pattern of perving for 30 seconds, then stopping to listen to her sweet encouraging words, then jerking it again letting out all the moans and sighs that rose up to my O shaped mouth. I'd hear, "Yeah, that's a good boy." then she'd here "mmm, o, mmmm, ahhh" then I'd hear "Oh yeah, come on, come on!" and she'd hear the sound of my hand smacking at the base of my unit and my balls slapping against my ass.

I can't say this lasted very long. My moans got louder and faster as I neared cumming, and she kept the banter up, egging me into more and more frenzy. I wished I could have been seeing her enjoying her power over me, but I could hear it in her voice as she practially giggled with delight. As the urge to shoot out all the built up excitement grew, I let go of all inhibitions and called out, "Oh, oh, oh oh, YESSSssssssssss" and a geyser of white lava spurted up over my shoulder, with a splat against the bathroom tile. It may have been high enough for her to see through the window, I don't know. It sure felt like it. Good thing I was in the tub at the time.

As my yessssssssssssssssssssss faded to a breathless puff of air I tried to say, "Thank you!" loud enough for her to hear. All I heard from down below was, "OK boy, let's go. Good boy!" Exhausted, I could feel my body melting onto the old porcelin and running down the drain.

O neighbor, if you're out there, thank you for your gift. It is very much appreciated. I only wish I could give you the same in return. If you read this, leave the light on for me.

I'm soooo horny again! Is there anyone out there who would want to help me? What would you do? Maybe I could offer to put up a face pick if some sweet lady would make me feel wanted!

I was so desparate tonight I wwent down to the seashore for some dogging Canadian style. Guess that would be huskydogging. Had a cpl kissing and ??? in their car while they watched me watach them. Not sure if they knew what I was up to, but I didn't try to hide it much. Then there was another cpl in a tent who kept zipping their window closed, then open, once they saw me watching from my truck. It would be such a turn on to watch them go at it and to know I was turning them on even more!

I'll be posting some pics soon

How does that web cam stuff work? I'm desparate!