On and off, I've been thinking about this for a few weeks now:

        A grammar of eroticism and/or pornography.

    I was looking at some of my nephew's English textbooks and realised that they could be a rich source of inspiration for powerfully subversive and unbelievably horny stories/projects which only absolutely dirty-minded adults will be able to appreciate and enjoy.

    It's rather twisted, I know, but if it's the kind of thing where kids can't get into and only adults can appreciate, then why not? It's like a built-in childproof mechanism.  

It's four in the morning. I got back about an hour ago, and though I'm dead tired, I'm itching for some release. Since Neko's sound asleep I decided not to wake her. I watched some creamy Japorn and ended up spurting everywhere. There was so much, an entire day's supply. But you know how it is after an orgasm; you just wanna go to sleep and dream.

 

As fate would have it, I twisted my right foot yesterday. And as my foot throbbed and pulsed with excruciating pain, I laughed out loud, and my cock became hard.

There's a hidden dimension to this incident, one that I believe has to do with divine intervention. I'll probably talk about it in another blog that I've been thinking of starting.  

    Well, I'm recuperating at home, which means no work and all play for at least five days. If inspiration permits, it's a perfect time to saturate this space with the smut that I'm known for.  

I roamed the dark, wet streets of the town I grew up in, looking for the dress of a woman that I have somehow forgotten.

(Was it the dark, wet streets of the blogosphere that I was roaming?)

I remember passing through this two-storey café set in an ancient Chinese style where there were people laughing, singing and celebrating with a genuine, heartfelt joy that is rarely seen.

And right before night came in a misty drizzle of progressive darkness, I almost couldn't find my way out of this building where the main exits were blocked by these menacing-looking metal protrusions that suggested nasty injuries for anyone who attempted to use them. Lucky for me I did find an exit, one made of cement steps that led me out into the drizzling rain and shrubs that have become gamma-green from all the moisture in the air.  

Anyway, night progressed, and I stepped into an antique shop where the people were warm, friendly and seemed to possess an inscrutable wisdom. I told them I was looking for an old dress, and as the extraordinarily helpful women searched for it, a man showed me some quaint instructional booklets on English loaded with biting wit and ascerbic sarcasm. 

It was then that I woke up and my beloved Neko brought me some ice-cream to satiate my parched soul. 

Epilogue: I have lived many lives in this town, and it is only through my dreams that I am afforded glimpses into the snippets of these past lives. 

 

Getting ready for a shower, I'm a naked man hobbling around the apartment with his dick swinging comically, whilst listening to legally downloaded downtempo tracks from a site fellow Man Blog editor Fritz pointed me to. 

    Neko's on the rag, and with my breadfoot I'm as horny as ever. Like a wounded satyr, my cock keeps getting hard throughout the day. This next line's probably gonna sound real cheesy to most of you, but the body is indeed capable of so much pain and so much pleasure.

   Anyway, I've got some new images to share. Most of these were taken right before Neko's rag and the twisted ankle incident. I had been up to my neck with work, and Neko and I had sex for the first time in weeks. And so, without further ado, I present to you images of a very naked and horny Neko literally performing fellatio on my fat, swollen cock.

 

I really do apologise for the excess of cocksucking images but they're one of the easiest kinds to capture. Images of our fucking, on the other hand, require a lot more dexterity. Sure, I've got steady hands, and while the images might turn out crisp and sharp, the angles could be off, and this is simply not good enough. I suppose it's a given that amateur pics are supposed to look amateurish, but I don't quite agree with this. I guess you can say that I'm a bit of a perfectionist. 

    It's a beautiful Saturday and I can't fucking leave the house!  

I have a marked distaste for so-called erotic or pornographic writing that seems to hover in a soft-focused limbo, where at best, I'm left with a feeling of restlessness and at worst, I'm sitting there in front of the text asking what the fuck.

    Porn is easy because porn is nothing more than a reflection of that activity which we, in our relatively short lives as human beings, are programmed to engage in.

    Porn is easy to create because all you need to do is to set up a recording device while you're engaged in some act that involves genitalia.

    Porn is easy to write about as long as you possess the rudimentary vocabulary to describe genitalia (cock, cunt, pussy, asshole, tits). Oh yeah, let's not forget the almighty porn word, FUCK. And this is why there's so much banality out there.

    Oops, perhaps it's not my place to criticise. After all, this is a sex blog, and how can a sex blog be treated seriously?

    Sex is necessarily filthy and wretched, as are our most murderous and twisted sexual desires. I believe that it is not wrong to have an inclination to abuse, as long as we do not abuse. Taking advantage of someone sexually is despicable, but as a pornographic scenario or context, it can be exceptionally horny. In a way, this is how I see pornography --- as an avenue in which to explore and scour the ravenous terrains of the human libido. This might sound hopelessly naive of me, but by understanding and acknowledging the predatory and selfish nature of the libido, there is hope that we can move on to a higher plane. After all, sex should be, above all else, life-affirming.  

I was in a office building populated by men who looked like office workers of late 60s, early 70s America, complete with their balding heads, black horn-rimmed glasses, white shirts and skinny black ties. They were totally engrossed in the calculation of what seemed like rent to me. Some of them were looking at a monitor and yelled "Cut!" intermittently.

    I arrived in a makeshift elevator, and come to think about it, almost everything about the building seemed to be makeshift. My guide led me to this room, and it became more obvious that we were in a time of some unknown emergency. As I entered the room, I felt her presence immediately. It seemed that she had just stepped out of the shower. As I'm briefed on the situation, she pressed her warm, fully-clothed body next to mine, and something told me that no matter what, I must resist her.

    Could it be the damned antibiotics that's doing the trick, making me dream these cryptic afternoon dreams?

 

It's a Sunday afternoon and the dark, ominous sky is loaded with moisture, pending release. Barring electrocution, it's a great day for lazy dips in the pool and walking around naked without our clothes on, making love whenever we feel like it.

My earliest memories of the female body consist of women with dark, well-defined nipples and a full, luxuriant bush. Which kind of explains why I'm especially partial to dark-haired women, and women of Asian origin in particular. I grew up watching all those popular TV shows of the 70s which only served to further cement my fetish for all things sexually retro. When I was watching a re-run of Charlie's Angels last year, I realised how, back in those days, women were so naturally and effortlessly sexy. Nowadays, true sexiness is almost as elusive as the first edition cover art of Electric Ladyland. It's there, but you gotta watch out for it.

    The women I'd love to imagine naked are often girl-next-door types who are totally unselfconscious about their sexiness, as opposed to girls or women who wear their "sexiness" on their sleeves like it defines their very existence. Sexiness is something that is necessarily subtle, something which does not call attention to itself in a loud, uncouth manner.

    When Neko and I first chanced upon my aunt's hairy cunt, what made us so excited --- besides all that was blatantly obvious --- was the fact that my aunt has never seemed to be the kind of person to strut her stuff with the sole intention of causing unrest amongst the cocks of all the men around her. Whenever Neko and I visited her, she's always so nice to us both, and not being able to shake off the knowledge that she's got such a hairy cunt tucked between that peach-shaped ass of hers, I can't help but notice how she's not even aware of how sexy she is, which paradoxically, makes her so sexy.

    In this day and age of pornographic oversaturation, it's too easy to get bored with all these images of sex. Roland Barthes said it best when he noted that "sex is everywhere, except in sex." Whenever I'm watching porn, I try to return to that primal scene when I encountered porn for the first time. And whenever I'm putting up a post, I try my best to be true, because it's just too easy to become just yet another sex blog. Which is not to say that I'm trying to be different. If a blog seems different, it's only because the author sees things differently. For many years now, I've dreamt of putting together a catalogue of text and images that would sum up eroticism/pornography the way I see it. It's also a way for me to track my roots and progress as an explorer of my own libido, and dare I say, the aesthetics of pornography.

    However, I am not my blog.
 

I thought about it and I think cathy's really got a point there when she said how refreshing it is to see images other than those that speak of lust and sexual passion.  

    So, libido takes a sort of holiday then. Truth be told, I am a rather avid amateur photographer, and believe it or not, sex and naked bodies are not the only things I enjoy shooting.  

I remember how, during the early days of the www, hunting for porn pictures was such an exciting activity, simply because porn was such a scarce commodity. Nowadays, all manner of porn pics can be had, literally, at the click of a button. Thus, hunting for porn pics has become a chore, and a rather tedious one at that, unless you're a person who has taste.

    It's simply impossible not to develop a taste because it's simply impossible to download everything. The more things change, the more things stay the same, and so hunting for porn pics has can become exciting again. There are a few sites that I begrudgingly visit whenever I'm in the mood for some eye-candy, and I say begrudgingly because most of the time it's quite a pain having to sift through hundreds of images only to find barely a handful that I like. But this is the price I pay for being the self-proclaimed discriminating downloader of porn that I am.

    Allow me to share with you an image I found in the photo archive of kindgirls yesterday. 

Abstinence, have you ever tried it? Not as a way of life of course, but as an exercise in which to gauge the buildup of your libido. I managed to keep my hands away from myself yesterday, and upon awakening this morning I was keenly aware that those daily stirrings in my loins were notably more pronounced than those from the day before.

    I can feel all that hot come seething and boiling in my two fat, round balls, begging to be released into the open air, haha, till I get my satisfaction.

    Speaking of which, I'm sure some, if not most of you, have seen Benny Benassi's sexy and oh-so-fuckin-kinky Satisfaction music video. If you haven't, you can check it out here.

   He's got a new one, and it's called Who's Your Daddy? Admittedly, it's not as good as Satisfaction, but it's worth a look, if only for all its retro porn sensibilities.
 

At the risk of sounding like I'm blowing my own horn, I'll tell you how hot that previous post got me. I was resizing, cropping and pasting those images of Neko into a collage, and the more time I spent, the more restless I became. Just the very appearance of her glistening, stretched open cunt was enough to make my cock all fat and bloaty. Her glistening, stretched open cunt, the juicy pulp inside.

    I was so restless I couldn't resist stroking myself some, and the more I stroked, the more restless I became. In that partial darkness of the room, where the only source of illumination was the computer screen, I had the feeling that I was some lecherous pervert yanking his meat to some sex site. I felt like I needed a fag, so I went into the living room. I continued playing with my cock there but stopped short of stroking myself all the way to a messy ejaculation. Instead, I snapped a few shots of my cock all rugged and roughened from my abuse. I had to do something. I stubbed the cigarette out and continued working on the collage. When it was done I uploaded it, and it was then that I realised something. I could very well wake Neko up. Rudely.

I crawled into bed, pulled her blanket off and promptly yanked off her panties in a hurry, my throbbing cock swinging and swishing everywhere trying to find its way home. She groaned and protested and tried to push me away, but not enough to discourage me from going further. I hesitated for a moment, because having been together with her for four years, I know that she's strange this way. During her waking hours, she has expressed a desire to be "taken" while she's asleep, and yet there's been numerous times when I got nothing short of a serious rebuff to fuck off whenever I tried to attack her when she's sleeping.

    It was a selfish night anyway, right? Plus, I was too far gone in my crazed horniness to stop, but as conscientious as ever, I felt her up just to make sure that she's moist enough. And she was, slippery with leftover lube from our hot fuck just hours ago. I slipped it in from the side, and as it slipped in she protested yet again with a greater fervour, adding more flavour to the whole charade itself.

    It wasn't exactly a mind-blowing fuck. My mind enjoyed it more than my cock did and I genuinely felt bad about stirring her from her sleep. Neither of us came, and her post-coital words were a mix of put-on anger and coyness. She complained, and then conceded that the whole affair was rather fun. "You fucked me twice tonight," she cooed.

Woke up to the sounds of a Groove Armada music video, "At The River" I think it was. Drifted back into sleep for a bit and when I woke up a second time, it was Moby in the air, like all those cumuli of fair weather in the sky.

 "I was happy enough to stay still

inside the pearl inside the shell

but the hurricane of experience

lashed me out of hiding and made me

a wave moving into shore, saying loudly

the ocean's secret as I went, and then

spent there, I slept like fog against

the cliff, another stillness."

(Open Secret: Versions of Rumi)

The messianic bellow of the muezzin, the cacophonic sound of children playing, the comingled aroma of dinner and incense; soon it will be night, and the amber tone of streetlights.

Either hit logging is nothing more than a fiction machine, or in reality there are more visitors to this blog than the comments seem to demonstrate. Or perhaps you're nothing more than spambots looking for automated hits?

    Anyhow, if you're a regular --- and sentient --- why not leave a comment and tell me what it is that makes you keep coming back? I know it sucks sounding like a comment whore, but I'd really dig it.

As the pain in my ankle slowly ebbs away, I can divert more attention to putting together better entries with better pictures. It's nice to imagine that Notes of My Libido will one day be available in book form.

    Many years ago, I was truly excited when I read an article in a magazine about Natacha Merritt's Digital Diaries. Admittedly, I do have a sort of fetish for erotic photo books that are different from the rest. Not just porn, mind you. I eventually secured a hardcover copy of the said photo book, and interesting as it was, I found the photos lacking a certain je ne sais quoi. It was then that I began to conceive of a personal project that would contain within it a certain panache that would satisfy, first and foremost, myself.

    Eroticism being what it is, universal appeal has never been my goal. Instead, it would be sheer joy to attain a semi-cult status with a piece of work that would only appeal to a niche market. Now that would be real fuckin sexy.

This weekend was no weekend at all. I guess it's true ---there's no rest for the wicked who believe in the value of hardwork. That's why I decided not to watch the Hostel, though I did feel like it.

    Work is a natural high for me, and smoking a solitary cigarette on the couch in the living room is one of my favourite ways of coming down. As I sit here, I dream of being in an almost vacant sex bar that's smoky and overflowing with an endless stream of moody downtempo music with fat, lazy beats; where everyone doesn't give a damn about everyone else because everyone is there not to gawk at other people but in order to get lost in that world that we each carry around inside our heads.

Cold front, chilly night, cigarettes and a nice Chianti or two. The cold sheets are yearning for the warmth of our flesh-driven battle. Two meat-eaters, riding on an oral rollercoaster across rugged terrains and moisture-laden cracks and crevices. Reeling from the high, we continue to toast the sheets with our rolling bodies. Fingers pry familiar folds apart, moist skin stretched agonizingly taut. Having been taught not to play with our food, I salivate at the sight of so much cream. I slide the sausage between the slopes of the buns but I'm careless, and whoops, the sausage slips out, and makes a mess everywhere.

I'm sorry, but I have become inappropriately aroused, and my meat is now all fat and swollen. Could you please use your mouth, tongue and everything oral at your disposal to prepare me for insertion?

    (I just love it when you twiddle your own naughty bits as you're sucking me. I love it even more when you go beyond twiddling and begin to finger your own hole, churning your own butter.)

    I steal glances at our portable porno player, and you instinctively do the same. Agonising and excruciating pleasure is the order of the day as we watch clip after clip of Japorn girls and women being lovingly abused in every which way. I grit my teeth, and you break away from me, leaving my pole sticky with your gooey spit; then you spread your cheeks wide and goad me to stick it into you with those squinty eyes of yours.

    You know I could never resist you.

    The pleasure is immediate as I push my meat into you. And like two runaway marionettes, we perform the dance that we've danced hundreds and thousands of times prior. But we're not marionettes, for marionettes do not feel the anguish that causes goosebumps to crawl across our skin like the footprints of some invisible monster. Soon, wet sloshy sounds can be heard. I look down and see your cream squishing out from the juncture where we are connected. You always cream so much when we fuck, and this is one of the reasons why I love you so much.

    Your body starts to gyrate shamelessly, and a faint scent of your cunt rises in the air.

    Amidst our writhing, moans and groans I am secretly turning on myself with the simple idea that you deserve every bit of unbearable pleasure that I'm visiting upon you. Serves you right for sucking me so well. And now you're getting your just desserts, I think to myself. My meat twitches and spasms and you feel it too.

    Let's come together, I whisper in your ear, along with an assortment of obscenities. It turns you on so much that your hips start bucking; I step up the pace and as you come, I come too. 

Without a doubt, natural sunglight is the best kind of lighting when it comes to taking images of the nude, or any kind of images for that matter. Most of us have forgotten, and taken for granted, the big bright sunny skies above us. I love looking at majestic white clouds, and I implore you to do the same the next time there's a sunny day in your area.

Whenever someone asks you how was your day, do you often find yourself  seriously contemplating the events of the day long after you've given that cursory reply of "It was alright," or "It was great"?

    I do.

    For me, the end of a day is often the beginning of the next. After all, time is not only relative, but also fleeting. I mean, if you recorded the day's events and then played back the footage at the end of the day, would it look like a piece of jerky, time-lapse photography or like a Wong Kar-Wai movie?

    This thing called mood is really quite a strange creature. Unpredictable, bipolar, and definitely, moody. Like the weather, who knows what kind of mood that we will accrue at the end of the day?

    The eye of heaven is shining bright, and it sure looks like a great day. But would his gold complexion dim later in the evening? And what sort of image should I complement this post with today? How about a wet ass on a secluded beach under the naked, sunny sky? (ade, this is for you, man)

Woke up to some heavy-duty Sunday morning wood, that thing between my hairy thighs sticking out, curving upwards like a horn. Neko's always there to lend a helping mouth to ease a little bit of that tension in my loins.

With her lips wrapped in a swollen kiss around my senstive meat, I found myself thinking about full, voluminous breasts that jiggle confidently beneath layers of clothes.

I mean, what was I supposed to do? There she was, lying on those somehow sterile-looking, lilac-colured sheets, slowly yanking off that skimpy polka dot skirt, gradually revealing her gorgeous ass to me. It was one of the most attractive asses that I've seen in a long time, and as I stood there in the doorway, I couldn't help but reflect how her ass reminded me of a cockhead. That deep, gorgeous crack between those perfectly-rounded slopes of hers was what killed me the most. And that marvellous play of light and shadow --- it was truly an ass to die for.

Hi people, my modem was fried by lightning a few days ago, but everything's cool now. Until the next lightning storm at least. New posts coming up soon. Have a good weekend.

What an absolutely perfect Sunday to be spending at home doing nothing but the things we all enjoy doing. It's funny, but after that lightning-imposed hiatus, blogging does feel a little rusty for me. There are new images, as always, but somehow, things feel a little different.

    Bought a couple of porn DVDS yesterday. One's American (Robby D's Control 2) and the other's Japanese (Red Hot Fetish Collection #12 featuring Rio Sakaki). As mentioned before, I've pretty much sworn off American Porn, but I was attracted tricked by the cover. Now tell me if that cover doesn't justify some impulse buying. Anyway, and predictably, Control 2 sucked for me. And like a moron, I sat in front of the tv feeling really cheated. So as far as American Porn is concerned, my final answer is "no more." That is, until the next American Porn New Wave at least. But apparently, some people really enjoyed Control 2. Here's a review if you're interested. And rest assured that the review is better than the DVD.

    As for Red Hot Fetish Collection #12, it's pretty yummy to say the least. Can't say it's the best, and I have seen better, but if there's something in porn that really turns me on, it's a sweet-looking girl with enough experience to spare doing the filthiest things in front of the camera. You can check out the cover here.

    Having been such an avid consumer of porn for so long, you tend to pick up a few skills in picking out a gem from the rest. The vidcaps on the cover seemed promising, and guess what, I was not disappointed by its contents. 

    And the fact that she reminded me of someone I know was definitely an added bonus. I mean, come on, I'm sure some of you possess this strange quirk too. Whenever you come across a porn performer who reminds you of someone you know, the turn-on factor is multiplied. I mean, we tend to gravitate towards people who reminds us of people that we're familiar with.  

    Anyway, this AV star, Rio Sakaki, definitely looks like one of those sweet girls who love to fuck. There's a certain unpretentious quality about her that makes her performance such a joy to watch. The fact that she had a really plump snatch and all the cocks were well-textured helped as well. It got me so hot that I held off ejaculation approximately six or seven times before finally letting it all out, in tune to her enthusiastic sucking. Anyway, here are some vidcaps that got me real horny as I was capturing them:

    This probably sounds really corny coming from me, but I actually like her smile a lot. That (winning) smile and those laidback eyes. In that last image you can literally see the bliss on her face. I also dig how she has this habit of occasionally tilting her head and raising her brows when she speaks. She's not drop-dead gorgeous, but I see a lot more than just a Japanese chick getting fucked in an AV flick. She actually seems to be enjoying herself, in a very unselfconscious way. This is another one of my strange mental postures whenever I'm watching porn. I pay a lot of attention to those non-porn moments when a female performer exposes her personality through her body language. I get a real serious kick out of it, simply because these non-porn moments actually reveal a lot. I guess in a sense it shows me another aspect of her, besides that of the AV star.  

In a previous post, I mentioned Benny Benassi's Who's Your Daddy? music video. Well, there's an uncut version. Check it out here, and see if it, um, doesn't get you in the mood for some whipped cream.