Erotophoria

It’s fucking hot here in California… so hot the hippies all over Cali have formed protest rallies in rich neighborhoods, demanding that private swimming pools be turned over to local counties so everyone can enjoy them.

I have to admit, I’ve been to a few myself. Not because I want to act all Robin Hood n whatnot - I just know what happens when hippies hang out together outdoors. As soon as the hippie girls get nude everyone remembers that peace, love and the free spirit of naked hippie chicks is all that really matters in life.

Anyway… the local authorities are having a hard time with it because so far no one’s done anything illegal so the police can’t break anything up. Well, nothing serious. A little smot poking and nude dancing in the streets never hurt no one. I guess those nude Hippie Goddesses are so pretty when they’re naked in the sun the cops don’t have the heart to force ‘em to put their clothes back on.

Schwarzenegger’s not willing to turn the fire hoses on ‘em - thank Hippie Goddess. Not because e supports the idea of the redistribution of swimming pool wealth. He’s turned it into a political thing. Here’s a snippet from a local radio station interview:

“We can’t give the hippies what they want or they’ll think we’ve negotiated with them. With the smoking of the pots, and eating of the munchies, and things of this nature, the hippies are easily confused. They’ll think we’ve given in. We can’t let them think we are pussies, because it is they who are the pussies. Great big hairy pussies and hairy armpits too!”

I think I’m gonna head out to the beach for a couple weeks and cool off a bit before school starts up again. If I don’t check out some of those sexy bikini thong beach butts cuties now I’ll miss this year’s beach bikini season.

Pleasant Erotic Dreamings,

~Virgohippy

Wanna know why I haven’t been posting for months?

Because of this thing.

Careful, it’s not work safe… unless you keep your speakers off and your pointer on the close button.

Who am I kidding? As if this blog is work safe anyway.

Here’s a surfing tip for all you PC users: ctrl+w will instantly close a window in Internet Explorer.

Just after the time of creation, when God was nearly finished shaping and filling the universe with wonders and splendors, God was left with only two last tidbits of creation in his bag of mysteries. Seeing as God favored Adam and Eve, God decided to split the gifts between the two of them.

So, God strolled down a moss covered path in the Garden of Eden, and chanced upon the two nude lovelies, who were still flushed with a brief afternoon fornication.

“Hello Eve and Adam,” God said with a smile of approval, “Come close to me, I have something to tell you.”

“What is it, God?” asked Adam, before he harassed God excitedly with a medley of questions.

“Hold fast, Adam,” commanded God, “let me tell you.

“I have a gift for each of you, but only one each…”

“What are they?” demanded Adam while Eve let God continue.

“Well, one is the gift to urinate while standing. It’s a handy little ability…”

“Oh! Give it to me!” exclaimed Adam, as he jumped up and down, bombarding God with a ruckus of enthusiasm before God could finish his thought. “Please, oh please, let me have that ability. Please, pretty please! It’d be so much fun, urinating on things from up high. Oh, God, please give me that ability!”

On and on Adam went, like an excited little boy who… well… had to pee.

“All right Adam. I’ll give you the ability if it’s okay with Eve,” said God.

“Sure,” replied Eve through a sly smile. “If Adam wants it that much then he should have it. It’ll probably make him very happy.”

And so God said, “Adam, you have the ability to control the direction of your micturition while in a vertical position.”

Adam was so happy he immediately began to wet the bark of a nearby tree, before he moved onto drawing a picture of Eve in the sand with his steady flow. And it was good.

“Fine, fine,” said God before God and Eve shared a little smile between the two of them. “Well, Eve, now that Adam has been taken care of, how would you like…”

“Oh God, I’ll gladly take multiple orgasms,” interrupted Eve.

“How did you?”

“I peeked.”

“Clever girl,” mused God. “Well, enjoy…”

This one’s good to tell when in mixed company. I get interesting reactions when both men and women are listening at the same time.

It’s one of my favorites. I think because I enjoy experiencing women who have multiples… or maybe because I enjoy experiencing multiples myself too.

I suppose I should elaborate…

Pleasant erotic dreamings,

~Virgohippy

I’m talking about fetishes of human desire. Feet and ankles, hips and waist… and everything in between. I’m talking ropes and swings and shiny bits of black leather. I’m talking hirsute bodies and flowing water.

I want pics, descriptions, links…. whatever works for you, please. Keep it soft and sexy and I’ll even let you post images on my blog, if you like.

What spurned this little quest of mine? A friend illustrated a secret desire: a hand drawn image of “Out of Worldly Beauty.”

As much as I enjoy looking at erotic nudes all day I do like a bit more inspiration.

She bit me, that bitch!

She snuck up on me like a hunting tigress while I laid across my bed to light a candle and she sunk her teeth into my bare flesh.

I squirmed. I couldn’t help it. The piercing pain felt too good, I could only surrender.

“Oh, don’t stop,” I cried out.

Not right away, of course. The first one took me completely by surprise. By the second my body had decided that it liked the sensation so much it refused to respond in any other way then complete, unconscious arousal.

So I gave in.

I became the sensation of pleasure itself, jagged pulses of passion overwhelmed my thinking until I became nothing more then a reacting beast. At that moment, my every thought, my every mental whim was focused on her, on the tiny bit of flesh of me trapped in her merciless grip. I was vulnerable to the scheming machinations she had for me. This creature, this hunting animal thought of one thing: sex.

I loved every moment of it.

Honestly, how would any of you react to a viscous biter tearing into your flesh?

I teased her mercilessly. I played the perfect little victim to her skillful onslaught of pain. I squirmed involuntarily, but refused to give her the pleasure of hearing me beg her to stop.

Within a few quick pierces I collapsed into a gasping puddle of fluttering sensation, commanded by the power of her will. I refused to move until after she pulled out her penetrating weapons from my muscle hardened flesh. Instead, I pretended to roll over in a desperate attempt to escape. I wanted her to work from behind, to my chest.

“Bite me everywhere,” I pleaded once, and only once.

My stomach, she could not bite. By the time her gleeful smile full of teeth and carnage had traversed down my hard masculine breast I gave her my lips.

Her teeth did not disappoint.

But I wasn’t permitted the pleasure of indulging in an oral ravishing for longer then a one long, grinding moment of surrender.

It wasn’t my choice to enter her, she made that decision for me. And once I was inside her I hadn’t the will to do much of anything but orgasm in screaming pulses. I was so torn apart by the echoing haunt of a stinging pain I erupted the moment I passed her gentle barriers. I continued to be electrified by slow thundering jolts long after.

She had bitten me just hard enough to feel tender for the remainder of the night. And while I basked in the epiphany that she was good while I tenderly filled and emptied her over and again.

Her reward for skillful, piercing pain was an equally potent and powerful tenderness.

Honey, I’ve learned quite a bit from my first sex with you.

I suppose now that I’ve finished this little bit of “Dear Diary.”

Btw, I am a naughty little fetish monkey. Just thought I’d make that clear.

Pleasant erotic dreamings,

~Virgohippy

Ladies, I have something to confess: when you roll in the sheets with me for the first time I am not the ultra-confident, sexually enlightened being I like to present to most people. I rarely orgasm with other people.

I shake and quiver with nervous excitement, and my hands frequently change their mind. I can become so completely absorbed in feeling every inch of you from the inside I might forget to orgasm… and I won’t be free enough to help give you one either. And worst of all, once inside, I’m prone to forget my length and breadth. To be completely honest, I might cause you lingering pain by knocking on your back wall more then a few times.

I’m shy and akward, but not every time. I’m a virgo. I need to be a virgin lover with you at least once. It’s my way. Some of you have told me I’m pathetic. Others, a very few others, have been around long enough to say it’s sweet.

Either way, it doesn’t matter, it’s misleading.

I’m still like a boy now with a new lover. But unlike the boy I used to be, with a woman I know, a woman with whom I am confident, I am a man.

Sweet dreams,

~Virgohippy

It’s official, now is the first time a family member has found the often personal and erotic blog of Virgohippy. I’m sure it was quite a shock to find out that the increadably flirtatious Virgohippy has a published space where he talks just as dirty in writing as he does in person. No, it’s true, I’m every bit as depraved and perverted as you suspected.

But fear not my lovelies! There was no shunning ritual for this “Naughty Little Fetish Monkey.”

Her words, not mine.

Instead, my enlightened family member suggested a movie to me. So, after I have now watched it at least a good half-dozen times with people I deemed worhty I’m now ready to share it with THE WORLD. (I think I’m cool, don’t ruin it for me.)

Are you ready for this? Little tip: it’ll give you extra points in the “how the hell do you find these kinds of awesome independent films” departement of ultra-super-coolness. Seriously, trust me on this one. Just dont watch it with any “innocent” ones around, you get me?

Go take a ride on Shortbus.

If you don’t have a Netflix subscription but you knowingly pay for rentals then get the fuck off my blog. You don’t deserve to be here. And don’t you dare fucking come back until you get a Netflix subscription.

That one’s free, but I’m working right now, so, while you’re at it, here’s a shameless plug: for all you nasty perverts out there who like to pretend to be some fancy voyeur, Get Internet DVD Rentals of Porn Movies Here.

In case you’re wondering…………………

Pleasant erotic dreamings,

~Virgohippy

Mmm… passion - the most beautiful excuse ever. It’s interesting the way a woman’s sex can turn me into a fool.

Here’s a little something I wrote for myself:

Women,

You tell me you love me at night. You fight me in the morning. You hide when I cry. You dare accuse me of resist?

When stabbed the broken tip of a dagger gnaws on my softest parts. Alone, my blood turns new woven tapestries into poison laced canvase. You say you want a sensitive lover?

Fuck you. This is a sensitive man. Fuck me and I’ll worship you. Fight me and I’ll cry.

You make a play on emotion with me? I am not a beast who charges when whipped. I proudly wear my most tender parts in front. I am a man. I fight with heart exposed.

Make love to me then stab me. Don’t pity me because I bleed.

~Sensitive Man

See what I mean? I must be crazy to think pussy is worth getting stabbed over.

On a more serious note I guess the the jist of it is this: Make love to me, fuck me, blow my fucking brains out while you ride me like a beast, but if you hurt me then please let me express myself. Men have feelings, and some of you women are worth more then just sex.

I dunno… for me fighting is sexy as long as both sides fight fair. Next to sex a good, emotionally expressive fight is probably the most intimate thing two people can do.

~Virgohippy

I’m all for applying a bit of the artistic brush to an otherwise pornographic piece in an attempt to make works with a deeply human interest more beautiful, but when does an artistic strip tease become so artsy it’s no longer sexy?

Walrus made a few interesting points in his blog as he showcased a video which turned the art of striptease into a mockery. Throw in a mess of visual devices which served no purpose other then to massage the camera wielders’ own ego while some hot piece of ass tries to get sexy and we have brilliance, right!?

I completely agree with Walrus on this issue. A striptease, like all forms of erotic art should be about one person interacting with another - a performer giving to a recieving viewer. When business or technology or even artistic values becomes paramount to that deep, human communication art suffers.

Check out Walrus’ video then take a look at this bit of erotic self expression:

Seems to me the point of this message comes across all too clear - Canadian Girls are Hot! Or am I wrong on this?

~Virgohippy

If the desire for sex is a side effect of viewing ancient Roman art, even when sex has been removed from the collection, should we still fear the artwork?

I visited a museum a short while back with a friend. While there the two of us noticed quite a few randy couples kissing and groping in public in a fashion we don’t see too often here in the States. My friend and I must have been equally influenced by some invisible force because we were hard pressed not to use a few quiet corners ourselves.

The ancient Romans viewed their erotic art as humorous and funny and commonly displayed it in public like the more contemporary collection of Korean statues having sex in a park Simon mentioned in his blog. Yet the museum curators sterilized an ancient culture and eliminated all pieces of erotic art from display.

Their motivation seems foolish to me. If I were to walk down a park path and see a depiction of a couple struggle to have sex while upside down yet still upright I would laugh. I wouldn’t tear off all my clothes and rape my companion. For that I’d wait until we got home. I need no inspiration.

Where is the harm in a good laugh at no one’s expense? Or were those aroused and stimulated couples milling about in a museum on some bright and sunny spring day somehow magically influenced by the perversions of artists dead for hundreds if not thousands of years, even though those artists’ works were hidden from display?

~Virgohippy