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Brea Bennett at Twistys

June 22, 2011 11:53am
Tales of a Lusty Lass
Source: Through Adult Industry News
by: Eve Rhony

Excerpt from Wedding Present Erotic Blog part 12

What makes me laugh about all this is the fact that phallic imagery is always seen as hard, forceful, violent and aggressive but what is more exposed, soft and vulnerable than a flaccid willy? Male genitals are fragile and squashy. Erections are spongy and bendy; their surface is rounded, balls are delicate and vulnerable. But male genitalia are symbolized by swords, fists, knives and guns. What do we need to be oppressed for? Men have just as much performance paranoia as we do. The small ads in porn mags focus on men’s fears and anxieties about sexual inadequacy. It’s all for sale, lotions, potions and pills.

Whether to enlarge your dick, prolong your erection, delay ejaculation or render her powerless to resist. The feminist debate has assumed that pornography accurately and truthfully reflects mans desires. So if you look at the more violent streams of porn you could assume that men’s sexuality is reflected in violent acts. That pornography is such a huge industry, lends it an aggressive phallic power.

Well, perhaps that phallic power is not so much a pork-sword as a gently unfolding flower. By allowing ourselves to feel oppressed by the traditional imagery we are simply colluding with the stereotype of aggressive male and passive female. We need to take another look at how male sexuality is portrayed and represented and how we interpret that. I think we should be showing men the way to further unfurl those petals to reveal blooming sexual awareness…

Excerpt from Wedding Present Erotic Blog part 13

We rode then all day. The contented throb and purr of the engine sent shivers through my spine and twisted filaments of tingling electricity stretched from my clitoris to my belly button. By the time we reached the hotel, I had enjoyed four or five, mini, secret orgasms on the back of my prince and his steed. Feeling shagged and dirty, I declined the offer of dinner and a drink, preferring a scalding hot shower and sleep.

Two hours into my snooze I heard my door open. The room was gloomy but I could see his reflection in the dressing table mirror. He peeked toward the bed upon which I was sprawled. I closed my eyes as far as I could without actually shutting them. I feigned sleep as I slyly watched him gaze down at my naked body. He perched on the edge of the bed, lightly. I tried not to gasp. I could feel my nipples begin to stiffen at the prospect of being pinched and rubbed. Oh God! How much I wanted him to take me! I could feel my spine involuntarily arching, offering myself up to him. My movements became more obvious when his lips brushed suddenly across my breasts. Still with my eyes closed and an expression of sleepy indifference on my face, my torso began to push up toward him, urging him to take more and more.

He slipped off the surfer’s shorts he had changed into and stood naked by the bed. I looked up at him then and pointed to the pile of condoms I had placed by the bed. Together we unfurled the durex down the length of his hot shaft. His eyes flashed in the dusk and he climbed into me. We had very slow, very deliberate, deep and grinding sex. When we came our orgasms were gently released as ambient pulsating waves, a Brian Eno track, the sexual equivalent of whale music.

I awoke alone, not embarrassed but relieved he wasn’t there. My stomach reminded me I hadn’t eaten for hours. In the dining room sat Jean-Claude tucking into bread and cheese. My ravenous appetite demanded feeding so conversation was minimal. The atmosphere between us felt strangely comfortable, as if we’d been traveling like this for weeks and making love every night. I was thankful to realize that he wasn’t going to try any schmaltzy stuff on me. He was business like, efficient and friendly. We both knew he had a beautiful girlfriend. This was nothing and I was glad he credited me with the intelligence of knowing that.

We set off soon after breakfast, the day and the journey passed happily. The further south and the nearer midday, the hotter it got. Hairpin bends passed vineyards and olive groves. A merciless sun melted the tires to the road. High speeds made me grin inanely. When combined with the thrill of a shaggable man between my legs the results were ecstatic. By the time we stopped for a late lunch at a routier cafe I was weak with desire. We ate in near silence, the passion palpable between us.

Later we rode on slowly, looking for a suitable place to siesta. A perfect leafy grove offered dappled shade from the fierce afternoon sun. We dismounted and lay together on the grass. Two glasses of wine at lunch had made me light-headed and the warmth of the sun soon lulled me into a light sleep… I don’t know how much time had passed when I became aware of my belt buckle being unfastened and the button flies of my leather trousers being slipped open. Roughly, the waistband was yanked down over my hips, exposing my stomach and pubic bone. As before, I pretended to sleep on while this horny opportunist tugged the leathers down to my knees. He reached into his pocket for a small penknife and deftly sliced through the sides of my flimsy panties...

To read more visit me at http://everhony.wordpress.com/

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