Sex Swings

March 5, 2012

So, I’m just going to throw this one out there right now.

For some of you, it will be a relief. For others, it will be a let down.

I have never used a sex swings.

I am sure many of you are relieved to know that. You don’t want to think about me, hairy, bearded, 280 pound Greg Hayhurst, hanging in some odd sort of Chinese leather contraption, sweating out of every orifice and receiving pleasures that lessen men could not handle.

But… a select few, a small sliver of readership, are actually upset.

You were the sick ones that clicked the link to this blog, expecting to hear all sorts of sexual debauchery from my past and present. You were the ones salivating to the site of the phrase “sex swings,” and started wetting your panties at the tawdry, steamy thought of your humble blog overlord wrapped and swinging from the rafters of some dingy, dirty subterranean lair of love.

You sick bastards.

You are my favorites.

Now, keep in mind that, even though I haven’t had firsthand experience with such a sticky, crusty artifact…

…that doesn’t mean that I know nothing about them.

I’ve seen some things here and there.

It’s like that sushi made out of that extremely dangerous blow fish. I’ve heard some things whispered in the dark shadows of society.

But I have yet to find someone who has stopped whispering sexy things in dark alleys long enough to actually experience it for themselves.

That’s how these things go, though.

Maybe no one wants to admit it.

I mean, I’ve seen those things for sale all over the place.

And by that, I suppose I mean at the few sex stores I’ve been to.

Even Spencer’s sometimes.

The problem I have is: I don’t trust them.

I’m a large man. I know that’s a surprise. Honestly, I don’t trust anything like that to hold me.

Frankly, I don’t know where the hell I would hang it.

I guess it would have to be in the basement, but that’s just weird.

I don’t like to be in that basement long enough to get the lawnmower out, so there is no way I am going to maintain an erection in that dank hole in the ground.

Basement is out. Upstairs?

Lisa has nice drop ceilings. Beautiful and fragile. No way we could hang one there.

Bedroom, kitchen, living room. All out.

I guess we could get one that hangs on the door, right?

I mean, they say that they can hold 200, 300 pounds sometimes. That will hold me.

But… will the door?

This is an old coal company house. I assume the hinges are strong enough to stand up to last century’s immigrant coal-mining alcoholics, but I don’t think they hung from the knobs for sex.

Looks like the swing is a no-go. Sorry, guys.



This is not included in the 500 word limit.

Thanks again to Ashton Cutright for another post that toes the line between interesting and disgusting.

Of course, I tend to lean towards that line in every post anyway.

That’s what we in the writing community call “finding your voice.”

My voice just happens to use dirty words and long words in the same sentence.

Truly ghjr


One Response to “Sex Swings”

  1. Scott Says:

    I think you should give it a try… Something like this with a lot higher weight limit. Then you just hide the hooks. They even make hooks that can be removed and the holes hidden with vovers now.

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