But according to the neuroscientists quoted in the article, orgasm from a brain scan perspective looks like complete cessation of brain function:
Are you craving chocolate? No? How about over the top purple prose anal sex? You want summa that?
We here at Smart Bitch Headquarters are here for you. Granted, our abs are 12% more in shape now that we’ve read through the entries, but we’re here. Giggling. And snorting. So put down the coffee, make sure no one is reading over your shoulder, and enjoy, because This. Is. Annnnnnnnnnal Sex Idol. Only without the idol. Voting is in the poll within this entry, and the entry will disappear in 24 hours. Once your vote is in (ha!) you won’t see the totals; the entry will just reload without the poll, so you can enjoy the what-what action again and again. Winners announced tomorrow. Voting is finished, and the winners have been announced, but I can’t deny you the opportunity to go back and read your faves. So enjoy!
So ready, set, and poke your favorite.
Entry #1: Taint Bottomwell
Lord Taint Bottomwell III surveyed the quivering ass flower so shamelessly displayed before him. Sir Christopher’s anus was an exotic star fruit ready to be plucked from the vine, ripe for the breed of love one man could only find with another.
With the delicacy of a botanist about to stroke a soft, blushing rose petal, Lord Bottomwell reached out one long, thick finger--the sort of tan, manly finger only men of strength possess--and slicked pale oil like cool white wine, oil scented with endless forbidden nights of strong masculine heat, over the rosy, puckered hole beckoning him as a diamond beckons a master thief.
“Taint! Oh god!” Sir Christopher howled his pleasure as Lord Bottomwell plunged first one digit and then two into the tight man hole. “Yes!”
“Then you would have me claim you as my own?” Taint’s own anus twitched with excitement at the thought of claiming and being claimed in return.
Sir Christopher arched his hips in silent invitation. Taint could wait no longer.
He plunged in, driving his lean, well-muscled, panther-like hips forward, a wanton cry escaping his lush mouth as the entire throbbing length of his purpled lovepump was swallowed by Sir Christopher’s smooth-walled, quivering backdoor tunnel. Sir Christopher’s round buttocks, smooth and hot like a stone in the sun, smacked against Taint’s aching groin.
Just then, the study door flew open. “Taint you are the terrible bastard king of assholery!”
Taint smiled and plunged deeper. “Why yes, father. Yes I am.”
Entry #2: Heather’s Hollow
Heather’s pert breasts heaved with excitement as Raoul prepared her tight hollow for the commanding thrust of his hard rod of love. Plunging two fingers into the wet haven between her silky thighs, Raoul swept up the sweet creamy passion dripping from the nest of curls and rubbed it around the shy opening peeking at him from between the smooth globes of her round ass. Raoul’s eyelids fell as he stroked inside her tight love-hole, watching as cries of passion fell from her cherry red mouth. Positioning the broad head of his manroot, flushed a dull plum and shining from his passion, at the opening of her forbidden hollow, he pushed it into her petite cavity with short strokes, the ripe globes of her breasts bouncing against the mattress from the force of his passionate thrusting.
“Can you take it all, little girl?” Raoul asked, his voice rough with dark need. She had pushed him too far this time, but with a start he realized he loved the little hellion laid out before him, and he wanted to be sure she was ready for his massive cock, the thick shaft nearly as wide as her wrist.
“Yes!” Heather screamed, driving against the hot length of him, burying it deep in her tight channel. Raoul’s eyes rolled back in his head at the feeling of her fist-tight channel gripping his steel-hard cock. Raoul groaned, grasping her hips and pumping the length of his shaft in and out of her. Heather gasped at every rocking thrust and sobbed at every long withdrawal, her shuddering cries heightening his pleasure, until he shouted his climax. Whimpering at the feeling of his hot seed shooting into her, Heather felt her womb convulse, as a rampaging orgasm overtook her.
Entry #3: Treatment Effects
Ally sucked in her gut and tried hard not to let the burp escape. She had been waiting for months for Tom to finally put the moves on her and after a fabulous dinner at Red Lobster and their glorious, buttery, mouth-watering Ultimate Feast she was partially sated.
Now she wanted more… and she was getting it! Tom was a vigorous and virile lover and couldn’t seem to get enough of her bountiful, bodacious booty. He had her bent over his card table and was experimenting with Crisco. Ally whimpered then burped. Tom chuckled and slapped her cheeks muttering about ripples in a pond.
Ally wasn’t paying attention to him. Instead she was trying to ignore the gurgling, burbling, and rumbling in her gut. Gripping the table she cursed herself for taking an Alli before her date. She cursed herself for having the extra butter dip brought to the table. But most of all she was cursing Tom for trying to dip his lobster tail in her rear butter dish. Her gut twisted while Tom hooted and plugged her Crisco coated brown cauliflower.
Grunting out a desperate “Gnnnngghh!” Ally gave way to the burning and churning passion inside her intestines and let the Alli sweep her away. With an explosive gasp Ally let Alli have its wicked way with her and expelled Tom as well as a wave of “treatment effects“. Heaving Tom aside Ally made a mad dash for the bathroom, silently despairing of her craving for tasty, buttery, fried fish.
Entry #4: Amelia Buttington
Miss Amelia, the prim, virginal, near-spinster American heiress to the obscenely large Buttington fortune, would never have dreamed she would have found herself in the arms of Lord Derrier Beefwhistle, the devilish, half-French, and also obscenely large Duke of Assbourne. In a course of a few minutes she lay face down on his brown satin sheets as he pulled apart her tender cheeks like a priest opening his favourite Bible or a loyal hound trying to explain comparative theology to another hound, or really any important subject, as doggy communication all really amounted to the same thing. Speaking of amounted, she could feel him gathering himself behind her to push his manly bough in between the ripe, round flesh of her peach-like bum till he reached the pit itself. Mother always said to watch out for heartless rakes, so eager to turn a brown eye blue, but now she wanted him to, although in a distant part of herself she admitted it would probably be more purple or red by the end of it – she was a virgin near-spinster after all, and he was obscenely large.
“What do you want?” she moaned.
“In the butt,” he replied. “What, what!” Who could resist that British charm?
Entry #5: Fessess Rimmer
Fesses Rimmer writhed in agonized pleasure, face-down on the large bed, entwined with two gorgeous men like a multi-limbed human starfish. She gazed lustfully at the chocolate buns presented by her firm’s senior partner, Ben Doon. As she reached forward to grasp the resilient globes of his ass, she shuddered at the firm caress delivered sharply against her own generous bottom by the junior partner, Phil McCraken.
“Did you know, Fesses,” Phil crooned, as he generously applied lube to her sweet Rosette, “that fine chocolate can actually help lower your cholesteral?”
Fesses did know, but her answer was muffled by that most sensuous of body parts, as she delved feverishly into the nerve-rich cornucopia of male pleasure before her. Her tongue ached with delight as she tickled Ben’s wrinkled bon-bon. His gasps and twitches melted her insides with shared arousal, as Phil’s finger circled her posterior entrance.
“Ooh, yeah, take it, baby,” Phil muttered as he introduced a second finger into her. “God, you’re tight!”
“Do it, Phil!” Ben hollered, as his ass cheeks quivered in Fesses’ grasp. “I’m gonna blow! Do it now!”
Phil whipped his fingers out and abruptly pried apart Fesses’ sweet booty. As the blunt head of his cock began to inch slowly inside of her nether amuse-bouche, he growled, “Chocolate contains phenylethylamine, an amino acid which has aphrodisiac prop—AAH, God!”
His Mr. Big sent ripples of ecstasy up and down her spine. It was too much. With a (still muffled) scream, she came.
Entry #6: Vishous & Butch
Vishous didn’t waste any time after he stepped into the shower. He stripped down, letting the water sluice over his steroid-free muscles and over his rampaging erection. Damn, that O or KY Jelly or whatever that bastard Omega’s name was always got him hot… after a fight.
It wasn’t because of that pasty white skin or the lurking power beneath those soulless eyes. Nope, Vishous didn’t swing that way unless it was…
“Ice ice baby,” Butch rapped, washing the suds off those hard, steroid-induced muscles.
Yeah, he wanted some of that. Before he knew it, he found himself standing behind Butch. His fangs lengthened as did his cock. “Your ass is mine,” he growled.
Butch glanced over his shoulder. “Bitch, if you don’t give me some of that hard cock, I’m going to have a serious case of some blue balls.”
“Whatevah, Napoli. Place your hands on that wall and spread them—now.” Vishous’ dead heart started pumping again as Butch leaned forward, his butt muscles clenching. He closed the distance between them, taking his long, hard thick cock—all three inches—in one hand and rubbing it between the cleft of Butch’s ass.
Butch moaned. “Don’t go slow… like last time.”
Vishous didn’t answer but concentrated on slipping his cock inch by inch by inch until he was firmly settled inside. “So damn hot, Butchy.”
He knew he wouldn’t last long. He never did.
And when he came two seconds later, he bit Butch’s neck, marking him. “Mine.”
Entry #7: The Greek Billionaire’s Bottom Lines, The Secret Mistress/Virgin Bride’s Revenge, or *
Nico, the world’s tallest purveyor of starfruit, okra, garbanzos, and zucchini, studied the mysterious e-mail. It was from BVSM at hotmale.com, and consisted of a large asterisk and the word “tonight.”
The illiterate fool. Anyone who could not spell BDSM was no threat to the bottom line of his lovely vegetable empire.
Although the asterisk was somewhat…menacing.
Nico looked away from the computer as the door swung open. “Peggy,” he said blankly. What was his virgin bride doing here?
Then another woman appeared. Verita, his secret mistress, holding a gun. Pointed at him.
He rose. “What’s going on?”
“We’ve been married six years, Nico, and I’m still a virgin,” Peggy replied coldly. “You’ve been too busy boinking Verita to deflower me.” She pulled an enormous zucchini out of her shoulder bag. “Now it’s payback time.”
Nico looked over at Verita, but saw no sympathy there. “I’ve had four secret babies with you, Nico,” she said. She cocked the gun. “Now it’s time for you to feel what it’s like to be shafted. Put your hands on the desk.”
“This is all a big misunderstanding,” Nico said slowly.
“Misunderstanding, my ass,” said Peggy. “Turn around and bend over, Nico.”
He turned and planted his hands on the smooth mahogany of his desk. Peggy unzipped his trousers and shoved them down. He felt the sudden penetration and smiled as his cock grew hard. It was ironic.
Because this was his favorite rape fantasy.
Entry #8: Porcelane
Daryoon shuddered in anticipation. He had never met anyone as wild and spunky, downright fiery, even adventurous, as the young woman he had only met a day ago. She had stirred his blood and his loins. Now here they were, alone, next to a convenient waterfall, her hair blowing westerly, his shirt blowing northeast. “Porcelane, I’m not sure this is, well, kosher.”
She rolled her large tawny eyes, “Look, it totally doesn’t count as real sex, this way I’m still a virgin. Trust me, I’ve done this loads of times.”
He started to think about that last bit, but then she was already in front of him. There Porcelane placed the two perfect pale pert pillows of her posterior that when parted would present a practicab-
“Uh-hum!” She let out irritably.
“Oh, right, sorry. So, um, should I take it slow or…”
“Nah. Just go for it.”
“Erm.”
“Really. In fact, the faster and harder the better.”
He steadied himself placing his hands on her slender hips. Indeed, his fiery, sort of, virgin beckoned to him and he would both heed and answer the call. He plunged forth into her pleasurable postern portal, and lost himself in further blissful alliteration.
Entry #9: Do You Dare?
“Do you dare?” He whispered as softly as a sigh. A bead of rain water fell from his hair and slipped down between her breasts. She felt the water warm as it ran down her torso.
She couldn’t answer him and instead looked upon the pile of wet clothes they had shed after finding shelter from the downpour. She brought her eyes up to his; his crystal blue eyes stealing her breath. “I dare.”
His smiled coyly as he always did when he got his way. As he bent down to kiss her his hand found her breast and teasingly massaged her nipple. His hand trailed down further to the spot he called “pearl” and she came in a series of pleasurable moans.
His fingers went lower. He ran his hand along her buttocks and then pushed between them. Slowly one finger entered, then two. He brought his other hand up, running his fingers lightly over her thighs, and these fingers now found pearl. She bit her lip as his penis entered the warm wetness just below pearl; she came again. He withdrew, and brought his penis down further, gently spreading her legs even wider and pushed in. She winced, and he withdrew. He pushed in again and again, every time going further and pushing harder. The hand massaging pearl brought her orgasm after orgasm. He came and collapsed to his side to gaze over at her with those crystalline eyes.
She smiled coyly at him. “Do you dare?”
Back in the day (2 weeks ago) Brandi sent me a link to an article, also from back in the day (a month ago) and from the Times Online about the history of vibrators - not “personal massagers” but straight up vibrators. The money quote:
Can you imagine your uterus wandering about, spoiling for a fight? I’m so amused by the entire image, I’ve started doodling womb cartoons (mine, if you’re curious, has really high heels on and wears those badass stockings I can never pull off without looking like a saggy baggy elephant).
