Archive for the 'Sex' Category


April 9, 2012

I’m just going to cut through the crap right now. This is not about crafts. It’s not about getting fancy with a sharp pair of scissors and making festive decorations for any celebration.

It’s about sex between two women.

If you don’t want to read it, stop now. I know how I am. It’s going to get graphic.

I’m hip to what’s up, you know? I’m aware that we aren’t all the same, that people love who they love.

I’m not ever going to come between that.

Look at me. I’m with a woman 13 years older than me, and I’m happy.

Different strokes, my friends.

Some people (gay and straight alike) like doing butt stuff. Some people like to get down with people watching.

The list goes on, but I’ll spare you the horrors of the Internet.

And some women like other women, and they really like bumping uglies with these other women.

Call it what you want. Tribbing. Bumping Doughnuts. Bearded Clam Jousting.

All of these are just other names for the act known as “scissoring.”

Now, I’m not a woman (clearly). I know some women who are lesbian or bi, and the only one that I’ve had the balls to ask about it in-depth HAS NOT ever scissored anyone. She actually doesn’t understand the appeal of the whole thing.

I think I have figured it out.

The act of making love is more of an instinctual act than people like to admit. Frankly, we were made to have sex.

And, in the absence of a penis, I assume that the humping, grinding motion must still continue. Enter: scissoring.

The women position themselves so that their vulvas are touching, and they rub them together until they feel like stopping. The awkward positioning of the legs makes it looks like two sets of scissors, hence the name.

While even my bisexual friend whom I assume wishes to rename nameless can’t understand the function, I believe I can.

One woman takes place of the man (minus the penis). The friction and rubbing of both parties’ “lady junks” together should bring one or more parties to climax. At least, I would assume.

Again, I don’t have a vagina of my own, but it goes without saying that I have at least a baseline understanding and moderate amount of experience with them. I mean, as long as you are rubbing one the right way, it’ll do at least a small amount of good.

So… why not rub them both together and kill two birds with the proverbial stone?

I mean, you’ll catch the clitoris on all the good stuff, and most women don’t climax from penetration alone. It’ll be just like rubbing around with a finger, a dildo, a penis, what have you.

It’s just… another vagina. It’s still sex.

And frankly, I’ll always understand the appeal of sex.



This is not included in the 500 word limit.

Thanks to Jimmy Halpenny for the challenge.

I attempted to be a bit more tasteful with the sex in this one than I have before. Of course, I was trying to prove a point in this, not shock.

I had to pull out my brain and shove it right into a vagina, the very place it belongs.

Truly ghjr.

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

Upside-Down Sex

March 2, 2012

Well… here we are again.

I’ve ended up getting myself into yet another predicament. The same evil submitter decided to throw things my way that not only would make for embarrassing, disgusting, or perverted posts, but frankly…

I have no clue what the hell “upside-down sex” means.

I have my thoughts. That’s what you’ll read soon.

Regardless, I approached the subject much like I do almost any other:

I Googled it.

Just to make sure there wasn’t some sort of underlying innuendo or annoying fresh trend that it dealt with. I have to stay on top of my game, after all.

Turns out, no. There isn’t.

Just pictures of people having sex upside-down.

After about an hour or two of… ::AHEM:: “research”, I finally found something that I thought might help.

Pulling up the Cosmo website, I was greeted with a sex cartoon and the banner “SEX CHALLENGE: 77 Positions in 77 Days.”

After about a minute of reading, Lisa looked over my shoulder, and stated, as angrily as it was matter-or-factly:


You can understand how much I had to laugh after that.

Turns out, she thought I was looking up sex positions with the idea of… well, exactly what the title said.

I assured her that, while it was an interesting undertaking, I was simply trying to decipher the term “upside-down sex.”

She was relieved.

Frankly, neither of us could handle most of those anyway. I’m too fat, and she’s too old.

C’est la vie.

Either way, I had a good time reading some of the positions Cosmo bloggers thought were good to try. Honestly, most of them looked dangerous.

I can only imagine putting a women’s full weight on the back of her neck while you… how do I put this gently?

“Bang the bottom out of her barrel.”

Something about it just doesn’t seem safe.

So, in my quest to fully understand upside-down sex, I came upon the idea that it must be what Spiderman does.

Think about it. Mary Jane likes it when he hangs upside-down in a rainy alleyway and makes out with her. Why wouldn’t she like him to rip the crotch out of his leotard, drop down a couple more feet and sling a little web of his own, if you know what I mean.

You don’t?

It’s a double entendre. “Web” means both his Spiderman webbing that he shoots from his wrists and his Spiderman semen that he shoots from…

well, you know.

All in all, I would assume any kind of upside-down sex would be dangerous.

Even if you just lay on the bed sideways and dangle your head and arms over the side of the bed towards the floor while whoever is on top does whatever they like to do while they are on top.

Of course, there’s always a chance you could slip. I should know…

but that’s another 500 words.



This is not included in the 500 word limit.

Thanks to Ashton Cutright for this gem.

Talk about self-censorship.

You get to read the things that I decided to leave in. Imagine the stuff that I cut from the final post.

Truly ghjr