Sex & Sox

My passions: Sex and the Boston Red Sox!


Monday, February 28, 2005

Commandeer me, Baby!

Any man who can wear this....


(Thank you, Yahoo Images)

... and still look unbearably sexy is a fucking god.

Look at that little peek of cummerbund. I'm so all about him. I want him to captain my vessel all over the seven seas, and then some.
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Friday, February 25, 2005

A Rose By Any Other Name...

This story, about a female runner from Zimbabwe who was actually a male, is interesting in several aspects.

One -- are female athletes in that country that masculine, or was he just very feminine?

Two -- a "witchdoctor" basically declared him to be woman.

Three -- don't athletes undergo physicals?

Four -- his last name is Sithole *gigglesnort*
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Thursday, February 24, 2005

Sex Blog Addition

I read several blogs, many of which aren't listed on the sidebar here because they don't fit neatly in to one category or the other. But one which I have added (along with finally getting around to changing the name of Sam's site) is that of Steve the Mildly Unwell Bastard.

If you've got reservations about getting addicted to yet another blog, just go and read
this entry. Okay, it might be hotter to a woman, but ... well, like I mentioned to him when we chatted last night, it's practically an orgasm in a website. And that's another thing -- he's very cool to talk to. I realized we think alike in quite a few things and we could've talked longer than we did.

Too bad I don't have any naked pictures to send him.

Oh! And to make this post even further palatable to the ladies,
ErosBlog is running a "Top Cock" of the week, picking from entries that her readers send in. While I have little to no interest in receiving such mail (sorry!), it's been interesting to go look.



As to that... wellllll... just imagine standing behind them. And looking at all those tight bums. Mmmmm-hmmmm.
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Wednesday, February 23, 2005

I <3 Thongs

This is a cut and post of my take on a conversation on a bulletin board I'm a member of, after a bit of chit-chat back and forth between people about teenage girls looking like "sluts" because they wear hip-huggers that expose their thongs, and them talking about how they're going to control their children's clothing and behaviour.

Here goes -- all of this is opinion, of course, a rather strong one, but opinion nonetheless, and I'm certainly not trying to slap people's wrists and tell them they're wrong. I'm simply not that kind of person. Anywhere that I've used "us", "we", and "you", I'm referring to people who are 'adults', in whichever sense of the word you wish to use.

North American culture is uncomfortable with the maturation of its children. There are few rituals we can point towards and say, "Look -- this child is now an adult in the eyes of our community." The nearest thing to this is the Jewish Bar/Bat Mitzvah, and even that has become a commercialized party rather than a spiritual celebration and welcoming.

Do we take our children aside and discuss sexuality with them? Do we celebrate the changes of their body, support their explorations of self, and invite their questions? Do we discuss what sex is ideally? No -- we give them the basics (his thingie goes in your private parts and you can get pregnant) or, worse, leave it to Sex Ed. classes where the environment is one of embarassment and laughter. Having to study and learn these basic physical functions/reactions of your body in a place where you are surrounded by other young adults that have been conditioned to be uncomfortable with themselves is not conducive to a positive experience.

However, as these young adults are exposed to the media, as they invariably are, they learn an entirely new commercialized view of sex and what "being sexy" entails. This sense of sexiness doesn't involve knowing and understanding yourself and your partner(s), but rather the eager pursuit for the pinnacle of perfection.

Teenagers are sexual. We all are. It's a basic, primal fact of human existence. And, instead of letting sex become an issue about which our youth are thoroughly educated, we shroud it in taboo and mystery. What is more intriguing, when one is rebelling, than that which is forbidden? The teens I knew were all practically frothing at the mouth to toss away their virginity on the first likely suitor.

Do we tell our children anything about pleasure? No -- we don't even acknowledge it. Sex is something to be feared, because it can lead to pregnancy and disease.

So then, young adults have sex, and if something goes wrong, or they have questions, their entire upbringing pushes them away from the people who have truthful answers (or know where to get them) -- their parents.
Our culture leaves its youth to discover their sexuality, and what it entails, with no intelligent source of positive, factual information. I think this is a shame.

The cliche goes, "If you can't beat 'em, join 'em." Modified, we can apply this to the situation: "If you can't eradicate it, embrace it." The exploration of such a basic need cannot be eradicated. (I'm reading a book called "The History of Celibacy" right now, so who knows what new kinds of things I'll learn about that particular thought!)

I am certainly not saying to encourage young adults to have sex with anyone that crosses their path. I do feel, however, that we have a responsibility to teach them about it, and not leave that task to others.

As to the entire "revealing" clothing thing, looking at it solely from a female perspective, we have this: teenage girls do not know how to be comfortable with, or in, their growing bodies. If what they're wearing makes them feel sexy and us feel uncomfortable, whose feelings are we more concerned with? Do we exclaim, "Wow, honey, you look really grown-up and beautiful in that!" or do we demand, "Go get changed, you shouldn't be wearing that."

Not being far from a teenager myself, as well as having a sister that age, and being an avid reader of books dealing with any aspect of sexual anthropology, I can confidently say that the latter is certainly damaging to the psyche. You are invalidating your child's sense of self -- but even moreso, teaching her to distrust you and simply hide who she is, what she wears, and how she feels until she has left your sight. The distrust comes from the sense that as a teenaged girl, no, you simply cannot identify with nor confide in your parents.

I feel grateful to have a mother who, while she certainly didn't approve of everything I did, never made me feel ugly or like I couldn't talk to her about something.
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Tuesday, February 22, 2005

Redhead of the Week, #4

Happy Tuesday and welcome to Redhead of the Week.

I almost stopped looking for other redheads after this one. She is absolutely fucking beautiful, with a wholesome look to her (obviously exploited by the photographer in this particular shot) wholly belied by the inviting arch of her eyebrows and the sensual curve of her back.

I do have a high quality version of this image available, much larger, via e-mail.



Enjoy (I know I did)! Next week's redhead is wearing a swimsuit, and I'll even provide a link to a gallery of images where she isn't!

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Monday, February 21, 2005

Mid-day Mush

I love when he leaves my knees weak in the middle of the day.

I love lying there with his cum on my breasts, making my nipples glisten.

I love how that smile comes to his lips as he kisses my thighs and watches me stroke myself.

I love his fingers pumping in and out of me, caressing all the right spots, so that I writhe and whimper and moan at his touch.

I love sitting here in the afterglow, being in love.
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Sunday, February 20, 2005

Graphics for the Yankee Fan

There are people who actually like the Yankees.

No, really.


Okay, so I got a few good laughs out of it.

As for this, well... Boston fans DO make better lovers!
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Friday, February 18, 2005

The Disappearing Man

Once upon a time, there was this man who worked at a newly-opened Advance Auto Parts store that I went into with my family because my mom needed... some little car part or something. I don't remember, because I was busy looking at the man.

His name was Kevin, and he wasn't much taller than I was, but looked just adorable in his red dress shirt and clean black baseball cap. His eyes were dark, but at the same time literally sparkling, and he had a hard time taking them off me to talk to my mother (his customer).

I didn't talk to him then, just smiled and glanced up at him through my eyelashes. When we left, my mom and sister both said, "Geez... he was really in to you."

When I got home, I called the operator to get the number for that store -- since it was still celebrating the "Grand Opening" sale, it couldn't be found in the phone book. Then, I called.

"Advance Auto, Kevin speaking."

"Kevin, hi... umm, I'm Tatiana, I was just in there with my mom, I was wearing the black..."

"OH! Yeah, I remember you. Hi... uhh... is something wrong?"

"No, I just wanted to call you."

"I was hoping I'd talk to you again."

I grinned. "Do you want to get together sometime?"

"S-sure! What's your number?" I could hear him scrambling around for pen and paper, and his co-workers teasing him. It was cute.

I gave him my number (I don't remember what it was) and spelled out my name for him. Since I was living alone, it was fine for him to call me anytime, and that night at 11 pm he did.

The next night, he took me out to eat Chinese, and we spent a few hours in the park afterwards, chatting.

We hadn't kissed, but we were sitting close together, and I rubbed my lips against his cheek. "I'm glad you didn't shave," I purred, "I like a little bit of stubble." This is very true -- I adore all things manly, whether it's stubble, chest hair, sweat, or a penis (I fucking LOVE those things!).

He kissed me then, and I admit that I thought of Rhett's line from Gone With the Wind: "You need to be kissed, and often, by someone that knows how to kiss." He knew how to kiss.

We ended up going back to my place because a Red Sox game was on (hey! I know my priorities), though I admit to watching very little of it as my attention was mostly on him. When the game was over, I turned my head from the television and pulled him up towards me, sliding my hand down the front of his pants.

He looked faintly nervous and said, "I don't like to sleep with a girl on our first date."

Okay. For most women, a comment like this melts them. It froze my heart. "You don't? Why? What if I want you to?"

Men must not be used to forward women, because he'd already confessed to being amazed (and pleased) by the initiative I put into calling him, and now he was staring at me like I was made of sugar and he was afraid I'd dissolve away if he touched me again... but wouldn't it be nice to get in a few licks?

We ended up fucking like animals, and he spent the night. He was a fantastic lay. In the morning, I got up and made him coffee, and we ate toast together before he went home.

For a few weeks, we had a routine. He'd come over after work, we'd fuck, he'd usually sleep over and then in the morning, I'd make him coffee while I got ready for work (I had a 9-5 office job that my mother drove me to) and he'd leave before my mom got there.

He started asking about commitment. I was honest: "Kevin, I'm not sticking to one man. Sure, I enjoy being with you, lots, but I'm not getting tied down. You're free to do the same, I don't expect you to be exclusive to me."

He didn't like that I wouldn't commit to him, but I didn't see a problem with it. If he wanted ass, I was available, and I'd even make him coffee in the morning. If we were working the same shift (which happened very rarely), I'd call him before I left for lunch to see if he wanted anything; if he did, I'd pick him up some food and drop it off at his work. It was casual, and I really enjoyed it.

Then, one day, he stopped calling, and stopped showing up at my house. I was too proud to call him; I was not going to chase after the man. I'd still see his truck at work, or driving around town, but that was it: the relationship was over.

I still laugh to think of it now, and wonder what the hell went wrong. I mean, certainly, I would rather have my man now than anyone I've ever even fantasized of being with (this means you, Colin Farrell), but it still amazes me that the guy had a woman fucking him and making him coffee... and he disappeared!
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Wednesday, February 16, 2005

These Ain't Warm and Fuzzies...

Thanks to one of my readers (that sounds so pretentious), I was pointed towards this thread on the SoSH boards, where Curt posts as gehrig38 and has been given a custom title...




... I can't fuckin wait for the baseball season to start again.
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Tuesday, February 15, 2005

Redhead of the Week, #3

When I first saw this picture, it was the beautiful gold corset that captured my attention. Then the red hair... then her curvy form... then the mirror, and finally, those pouty little nether lips in the reflection. She doesn't have that intentionally sultry gaze so common in pornographic photos, which I found refreshing -- it's not even a come-hither look, more the look of someone who's just been caught admiring herself and doesn't give a fuck that she was.




Next week's redhead is... stunning (vulvalicious, one might say). Absolutely the most beautiful one I've come across yet, and, like last week's, she has freckles.
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Monday, February 14, 2005

I Can Taste Success!

I'm well on my way to writing a cheesy romance novel! Or at least... according to this guy I am.

I swear, someday my mother's going to find out about this site, and I'm going to have some explaining to do.
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Friday, February 11, 2005

Just a Lil Update

I'm still around, anxiously waiting for pitchers and catchers to report.

I've got a little entry-type thing I'm working on that'll be up... sometime before next Tuesday's Redhead.

It's been a slow few weeks for me, and I think I'm about all storied out. I've debated writing fictional erotica just for the hell of it, to get the site through the rest of the off-season, so some of that might possibly -- and I mean there's a very slim chance of it -- be coming up.

I'd also like to arrange for 'guest' bloggers (preferably female, but males are welcome) if anyone's interested. Sex or Sox, or both, whichever floats your boat -- my email address is in the sidebar.

I get quite a few visitors from search engines, which makes me giggle. "Knee high schoolgirls" (I pray that was related to socks and not midgets) has been popular lately, as has "Red Sox hairstyles" (please tell me some Korean team isn't copy-catting them), and "www.xnxx.com" (WTF, if you can go to a search engine, you can type that in the address bar). I've also gotten people here for "freetime sex", "toronto anal prostitute", and "red sox nightgown" (to whoever's mom was looking for that one, I am profusely sorry that you ended up on the antique-nightgown-vampire entry).

Oh, and, if anyone's not seen it yet, or at least not lately, here's the fairly unimpressive -- yet inspiring! --
Fenway webcam.
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Wednesday, February 09, 2005

All Your A-Rod Are Belong To Us

I stole this link from... uhh... someone's webpage. But I can't recall who. I generally hate quizzes, but this one had to be taken and shared!


You scored as Jason Varitek. You are Jason Varitek. You are a natural leader and are highly respected by many. You are tough and will duke it out with any purple-lipped princess when it comes to defending your buddies, which makes you a very loyal friend. Oh Captain, my captain!

Jason Varitek

73%

Theo Epstein

57%

Johnny Damon

53%

Kevin Millar

47%

Manny Ramirez

47%

Curt Schilling

47%

Mark Bellhorn

43%

David Ortiz

40%

Which Red Sox Player Are You?
created with QuizFarm.com

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Tuesday, February 08, 2005

Redhead of the Week, #2

Happy Tuesday!

I agonized over this week's redhead. I have a few really great pictures I'm dying to get up on the site, but I realized that last week I'd assured you we'd have a natural redhead again, so that narrowed my picks down. I ended up going with the one I'd originally intended to: this lovely lass named Anna, courtesy of
domai.com.

I had to do some considerable trimming (the original's 1114x1000 pixels) to fit her here, so she can be clicked to be viewed uncropped, and larger.




Enjoy! Next week, no nipples. But there's other bits, and a very hot corset.
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Saturday, February 05, 2005

It's Less Innocent Than You Think....



See that? It's pink. And the fact that I like that hat, that I own that hat, that I've worn that hat to the last five Red Sox games I've been to, apparently discounts me as a fan.

How dare I wear a pink baseball cap?!

I'm sick of taking grief for this.

People need to get their heads out of their asses.

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Thursday, February 03, 2005

Me / Naughty

Back when I first got into this whole 'personal webpage' thing, it was a good friend of mine who lent me space on her domain. She helped me out with rudimentary HTML code (mostly by pointing me towards the resources that she'd used to teach herself), and was always there when I had an ignorant question (usually about tables; I hated them damned things).

We were quite close, and she's the one I went with to get my belly button piercing. Nightly talks about girly stuff led to one overwhelming impression: she built her concept of 'self' around what her boyfriend thought of her (not that I was much better at the time). He lived 800 miles away, and she got liberal use out of her webcam, talking to him online.

I didn't like him, but whatever, she didn't like mine, so we just avoided talking about that entire subject. Until... he dumped her. Because, he said, he loved her too much. And then, as she sat online crying to me about this and writing depressed poetry, he'd go out, fuck other girls, come back, tell her about it, and insist that he felt nothing for them. A few weeks went by, and they got back together.

Repeat the process, ad nauseum, for the next two years. Every six months, even after she moved out to live with him, he'd decide he loved her too much, send her away, sleep with someone else, and call her back when he was done.

We stopped talking after that -- I'd gotten my head out of my ass and expected her to, as well. But you can't help people that won't help themselves (how true that is), so the friendship crumbled.

Still, I kept my portion of the website and she kept hers, and one day I went to check hers out. At the bottom of her main page was a tiny link that read, "I love him, always!" When clicked, there was a prompt for a username and password.

Of course, this piqued my curiousity. I went digging around through FTP in her files, and found the folder the link lead to: "me"... subfolder, "naughty".

And then, I spent half an hour browsing through intimate photos she'd taken of herself for her boyfriend. I shared them with the boyfriend. I sent the majority of them to a mutual friend. I even sent one to a fellow I'd met at school, just because I thought it'd be amusing. I never talked to her about it, and, as far I know, she never knew.

This only comes up because today I was rummaging through some old versions of my personal website (that is, the website I shared with her until she IMed me abruptly one day and told me to delete my stuff) and found these folders. I looked through the pictures again, got a little bit of a laugh out of it, and then shook my head, sad at the friendship I'd lost for the sake of some immature asshole of a boy.

I've often wondered if I should feel guilty about this... or how I'd feel if someone did the same thing to me that I did to her. I guess that's what happens when you put a link to stuff like that on the front page of your website. People are curious, and some of us are voyeuristic.

Though, that said, I have to admit the pictures weren't very sexy... at all. Some of them were downright icky.

And I still don't feel any guilt.
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Tuesday, February 01, 2005

Redhead of the Week, #1

Happy Tuesday... and welcome to 'Redhead of the Week'. I am a big fan of redheads... natural, unnatural, whatever, as long as a woman's hair is in cherry hues, I am all about it. I decided to make this a feature here on Tuesdays because, as Jon Stewart notes, "Tuesday is considered the least important of all the workdays." (And, if you haven't read "America (The Book)", please, do yourself a favour and get ahold of a copy).

So! This is our first redhead, courtesy of... Mr. Snarky Bastard, actually.

She can be clicked to be viewed in a larger size.



Enjoy! Next week's girl is also "natural".
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