PanickedVanity

Thanks, and yeah we both wore dresses to the wedding... getting our marriage license was fun, the clerk nearly fell off his chair when Lillie (my husband) opened his mouth. I already have a few pieces (Pouffy white shirt) but finding a leather vest type thing, and high heeled boots is going to be a pain.

I can't be the only one who ever fantasized about David Bowie's sexy Goblin King in the labyrinth. I'd really like my husband to dress as him for me... the question is where to find an appropriate outfit. Hair and makeup are fairly easy (I'm a makeup artist, so I can deal with that) but the outfit proves a problem. Jareth: The husband: My husband is 5'9, 25 inch waist, size women's 14 shoe.

No, because it brings us to an equal level, it's sort of more "it's everywhere, it's uncontrollable," and I also see that as a tender act "Oh, we made rather a mess didn't we, here let me clean you up"

It's not the blow job I find humiliating, actually I don't really see anything humiliating about the semen in face, but I know for a lot of men it has the aspect of a dog marking his territory "You're mine, therefore I'm going to spray bodily fluid on you."

Some women view it as a turn on because it's humiliating. It's undoubtedly an act of dominance, and as I prefer to be the dominant party in my relationships I find the idea of being dominated by a partner uncomfortable. If it didn't make me break out, however, I would allow my partner to come on my face/breasts (hypothetically if he wanted to) provided he licked up every last drop... seeing a guy taste himself is a huge turn on.

I use ky jelly to slick back hair when I'm doing a latex bald cap on someone (cause other products compromise the cap)

I have a number of sub fantasies myself, though I'm a switch (I love being the dom as well) I love pretty boys, and the thought of a beautiful feminine man as my dom really turns me on... I have this one about being my husband's "ladies maid" where it's my job to help him get all prettied up in the morning, and if I do something like pull while brushing his hair, or don't do his eyeliner right I get a good spanking. Submission fantasies are very common among both sexes, but remember start slow.

No, he doesn't get a rash on his penis after sex. My theory is that because he gets HORRIBLE (like really really bad) razor burn when he shaves, that it's the slightly astringent quality of girl juices that bother his poor skin. It lasts awhile, and is painful (and he's a musician so his face matters) so dental dams it may have to be (either that or putting a good layer of cocoa butter so it won't get on him) he gives awesome oral too *sigh*

Here is the face that launched a thousand ships. Here is a body that puts all of art’s history to shame. Here is the greatest waste of potential I’ve ever seen, as that exquisite face and similarly comely form belong to a male unconscious of his charms, one Sebastian Roth. He and I share an apartment in New York City, as we both opted out of dorming at the art college we attend. I first noticed him in a graphic design course, which is to say I didn’t initially notice him. He was slouching, as he often does, over a desk wearing an ill fitting sweater and hiding behind a long mane of unkempt black hair. It was only when he looked up that my heart skipped a beat and I gasped softly at the face that was revealed. This stunning creature was possessed of high cheekbones, flawless pale skin, big blue-green eyes with long lashes, and full sensuous lips, the only thing marring his beauty was a pitifully patchy attempt at a goatee. After a moment, he looked down again, and the effect was lost, leaving only a disturbingly scruffy art student in the angel’s place. I started talking to him after that; I think he was stunned I was talking to him. On that note, I’m Raphael. I’m a painter. I’m six foot four. I’ve been told I look like a cross between young Iggy Pop and a Barbie Doll, which I find to be an amusingly apt description considering waist length bleached blonde hair, and a face I know to be both androgynous and attractive. I wear makeup. I am flamboyantly whatever the hell I am. Beyond art, literature, music and that sort of bullshit, my favorite things in life are automechanics (particularly vintage cars) and fashion (particularly tight pants). In other words, I don’t look like the sort of guy that’d be caught dead near an unwashed hippie. Shockingly, we hit it off. We liked the same artists, and books, and movies, and things. Eventually we took an apartment together, we’ve lived together for three months now. I’ve never gotten over the face hidden under that goatee, or the slender body under those baggy clothes. It’s inconceivable, but I think I have a bit of a crush on him. Sometimes, I’ll walk into his room and he’ll still be sleeping. He sleeps on his side, head on folded hands, like an illustration from sleeping beauty. He looks almost painfully sweet like that, his slim leggy frame ever so inviting in bed. This evening, the artist in me can’t take all that wasted beauty anymore, so I sit down on the edge of his bed, he’s napping after pulling an all nighter, and touch his cheek. “Bastian...” I say, and he nuzzles my hand, eyelids fluttering, I bite my lower lip, trying to resist the urge to kiss him. He moans softly before he’s fully awake. “Raph?” he says. “In the flesh,” I say, with a nervous laugh. “Bastian...” I pause unsure. “Bastian, I was wondering if maybe you’d let me try something with you... you’ll really have to trust me.” “You know I trust you, Raph.” “...Seb, can I make you over?” He looks at me for a moment, as if he doesn’t understand quite what I’m asking, as if my words have blurred in the air on the way to him, and are now to indistinct to understand. “...I” he says. “Please,” I say. His sleepy green eyes meet my dark brown and waver for a moment. Finally, he nods, biting his lower lip. “Yes,” he says, brows knitting. “but I doubt even you will be able to do much.” “I think you may be surprised by how much I can do.” He raises an eyebrow at me. “Oh?” he says. I smile. “If I told you it wouldn’t be much of a surprise.” I cover the bathroom mirror, and tell Sebastian to shut his eyes. The knowledge that I’m the one doing this makes my hands shake a bit as I run a bath. The steam from the hot water rises like smoke from a sacred bonfire in some long past age. I light beeswax candles. Their flickering illumination provides a certain atmosphere, recalling hints of something ancient and occult, awakens something that slumbered on the edge of my consciousness. Fire and water, the elements of cleansing and rebirth, I think, recalling various religious studies and folk lore courses I’d taken. I add scented salts and bath oil to the water, orange blossom and gardenia. The victorian language of flowers comes to mind, in which orange blossom signifies purity, and gardenia beauty. I bought a bouquet of burgundy roses last week on a whim, they sit on the sill of the small bathroom window, currently, their meaning is unconscious beauty, again uncannily appropriate. It seems I am suddenly surrounded by accidental symbols. Our apartment is in an old building. Our tub is claw footed, with old fixtures. The entire apartment has always had, at least in my impression a vague aura of magic about it. Not that I believe in such things, but being here brings to mind fairy lights, and sacred groves. The rite taking place in my bathroom makes some strange sense to me. This unmasking, this transformation, ordinary as the circumstances may be is in certain ways on a thematic level mythic. He’s wearing red plaid boxers and nothing else. He doesn’t seem to object when I slide them off his slim hips. His pale skin is warm and soft, somehow I expected him to be chilly to the touch, but he’s not, he’s warm and alive, and I can feel his pulse when I take his wrist to help him into the bath. I lean back, watching him soak, and lighting a clove cigarette, taking a few long drags before I take a pair of nail scissors to that damned facial hair while Seb leans over the edge of the tub. I hack it away ruthlessly, caring only to avoid hurting him, watching fascinated as the clumps of whispy beard falls to the floor. I trim the hated shrubbery until there’s almost nothing left to mar the smoothness of his exquisite face. I wash his hair for him, using my expensive but worth it shampoo, and a deep conditioner. They smell heavenly, like new beginnings. He makes contented noises as I massage his scalp. After I rinse out the conditioner, I dry his mane gently with a towel, and comb it out over the edge of the tub. His hair feels heavenly when it’s cared for properly, silky soft and glossy, of course there are a few split ends, but not many. I trim a half inch off the bottom and it’s perfect. I shave what little body hair he has, watching as bright steel takes off fine dark hair I scrub, exfoliate, and moisturize every inch of his slender body. . I shave his face with him blindfolded and trusting me with that sharp blade. I cleanse, tone, and moisturize his flawless complexion. I blow dry his hair so it’s sleek and pin straight. I paint his fingernails blood red, he’s got gorgeous hands. He looks baffled trying to figure out what the hell I’m doing with his eyes shut. I’m trying not to see the big picture, trying to make sure I see only what I’m doing, because I want the full effect when I finally step back. I can’t explain what it was that made today the day, but it seems as if there’s something humming in the air around us, some strange energy that makes my skin crawl and my heart race. I feel too alive, the way you feel at the top of a roller-coaster, the way you feel when you’re just about to tell someone you’re in love with them, and you’re not sure if they feel the same. It’s dizzying, but my hands are steady as pluck his brows giving them a nice arch and I apply makeup to that perfect face, foundation that matches the perfect porcelain of his skin, concealer to hide the dark circles from too many late nights, pale gold eyeshadow with dark grey in the crease, thick black liner round the rim, gloss on that full lipped mouth. When I’m finished I stand back back and stare for a moment at the altered Sebastian. He is more beautiful than I could have imagined. He is pale and slim. His shoulders are somewhat broad compared to his sim frame and tiny waist, but all of him is boney. His stomach is flat with the slight hint of muscle that all slender young men have. My eyes slide down to sharp hipbones, that draw my eyes to the space between his legs. He’s gratifyingly got a semi by now, but I try not to stare, moving my eyes downward long shapely legs, the sort of legs models would envy. I bite my lip, holding myself back from doing what I want to do just yet. What I want to do is to wrap my fingers around his cock, and fondle and stroke till me moans in that sweet voice of his, and can’t help but come. I need to show him himself first, show him exactly how beautiful he can be. Because he is beautiful. Skin tight black jeans, and a silver satin halter top, boots with a bit of a heel, and I swear I can’t stand it any more. Does he know how badly I want him? I don’t know, but when he opens his eyes there’ll be no mistaking the need presenting itself in the form of an obvious bulge in my pants.

My husband, random scenes of two men together, randmon girl on girl, Amanda Palmer from the dresden dolls with Dame Darcy, various times with my husband, my husband doing things I'd like him to do, Kathleen Hanna on stage (female musician kink, hell yeah), Bowie fucking iggy pop, Bowie and Brian Molko, my husband getting it on with Brian Molko, mostly I think about either my husband and I, or other couples... I don't know why.

Well, personally I don't think it's fair to demand that of her. I don't like semen on my skin (it makes one break out) and it is in fact, degrading, it's in essence an act of humiliation.

My husband has very sensitive skin, and often gets a rash from eating me out (This didn't happen with any of my previous partners so it's not me) he's always gotten it from giving girls oral, and this makes me quite sad as I love oral sex, and would like to have it often. I trim my pubic hair (I would wax, but he's not fond of the smooth look, makes him feel like a pedophile) and since he's not rubbing his face in my bush I don't think it's "carpet burn" either... is there some way we can protect his skin, and my pleasure at the same time?

Yes it is four men, for some reason I write better gay sex than I do straight or lesbian sex (which is odd considering I'm a girl)

Hehe, well can it be done with the receiving partner on all fours, with one guy getting oral sex, and two guys giving him anal? If yes, how does said position work. I tend to prefer the written word to vids, as I've yet to find a single porno that has actors that suit me (Nor art direction, when I'm not writing smut to pay the rent, I'm an artist, so I can't stand how ugly most porn looks. Like if I could have porn directed by the guy who did the royal tannenbaums with Brian Molko and Kathleen Hanna getting it on, then I'd be into it... but that seems sadly not to exist)

My husband is gender queer, he's not on hormones, but he does have some of the same issues trangendered folks do. Sometimes it's hard for him to have sex because he doesn't feel really very comfortable with his body (despite how beautiful he is) and it has a lot of effect on his self-esteem. Since being gender queer is even more confusing (he identifies as sort of between male and female) it often depresses him. On the other hand, he is a very tender, loving, and satisfying partner. He understands me better than any woman or man ever has, and he's the only male who's ever liked the way I tend to take the male role when I'm in a hetrosexual relationship (even though I am a very girlie girl) I like to pay for dinner, I like buying my partner expensive gifts, I love being the one to chase, and eventually have a male partner give in. He's also very good about fulfilling my little cross-dressing kink (pretty boys dressed as girls)

My boy does it for me all the time. It's not a kink for him, but he's gender queer and very femmy anyway, and I have a thing for boys as school girls, so last time I had him as this sort of rock n' roll school girl (He's the bass player/vocalist of a goth band) he looked so hot. I seriously need to find him a maids outfit, and a nurse outfit *plots*

I'm a writer, an erotic writer, and a friend of mine has asked me to write a triple penetration see (three guys on one, two in ass, one in mouth) and the sad thing is I have no Fing clue how this would work. What position would the receiver be in? What would prep be like? Where would the active partners be? Does one cock enter first and then the other, or both at once? Details would be greatly appreciated.

I'm a writer, an erotic writer, and a friend of mine has asked me to write a triple penetration see (three guys on one, two in ass, one in mouth) and the sad thing is I have no Fing clue how this would work. What position would the receiver be in? What would prep be like? Where would the active partners be? Does one cock enter first and then the other, or both at once? Details would be greatly appreciated.