Jane and Dick #2

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Note: Jane and Dick was a free zine that was distributed throughout the
      Seattle area. The printed version contains a lot of sexy
      graphical layout that isn't present in this text-only version. 
      The publishers may be reached at galaxy@scn.org.


     _____ _______ __   _ _______      _______ __   _ ______ 
        |   |_____| | \  | |______      |_____| | \  | |     \
      __|   |     | |  \_| |______      |     | |  \_| |_____/
                 ______  _____ _______ _     _
                 |     \   |   |       |____/ 
                 |_____/ __|__ |_____  |    \_

     "something for the girl who can be anything she wants"

experimental phase 2                                March  1997
try this on

Hep Cats:                   jon ponsford, 
                            cyndi goodman,
                            robert m keefe, 
                            jacqueline harper, 
                            lisa smith, 
                            amy wakeman, 
                            and me, pepper montana.

cover art:                  Rex Chambers

images by:                  Carl DeWois

Send me your smut and submit to me.

write to:                   Jane And Dick
                            P.O. Box 12437
                            Seattle WA 98111-3437



                       I'll be your Dick
                   If you'll just be my Jane

Hey, Jane and Dick are in no way responsible for any weird, depraved ideas
you may derive from this publication

1. climbing the mound

I'm getting ready to go to the club, dance music playing in the
background.  I feel the excitement and anticipation of my evening. I sip
red wine, feel its warmth. I'm looking through my closet, deciding what to
wear.  I pick a few things and lay them on my bed. Naked, in front of my
mirror, candles lighting my curves, I admire my strong legs. My gaze
lingers on the curve of my hip, swell of my stomach, full breasts.  My
lips are pouty and red, black hair falling across my face. I reach for my
breast, feeling its warm softness.  I tug at my nipple, the pinch sending
a shiver throughout my body. I smile coyly into the mirror, like I'm
performing for an audience, not my own reflection.  It turns me on
pretending it's a stranger I'm standing before.  I pull on black silk
panties, like a smooth hand caressing my ass. I can't put my corset on
fast enough, savoring each clasp and hook, feeling it tighten and squeeze
my waist, my ribs, curves accentuated. Yummy. My breasts are full, rising
above the corset, I give them a light slap, pinkness. I reach for my black
leather boots and lace them over my calves. What else. . . a collar. I
choose thick black leather. I adjust it to gently constrict my throat.
This is too much. I pull my breasts over the top of the corset, squeezing
them roughly. I'm watching in the mirror again, feeling the gaze of a
beautiful stranger. I pinch my nipples, my lips tighten.  I dance for the
reflection in the mirror. My hips undulate, one hand reaching down under
the top of my panties. I can't take my eyes off the voluptuous woman
seducing me in the mirror. I sit on the edge of my bed, fingers moving
quickly, up and down, exploring my lips, pinching my clitoris. It's too
much, but I want more. I want to take every inch of my body. I bring my
fingers to my mouth, breathe my scent. I suck my fingers, musk sliding
over my tongue.  My pussy grinds against a hand as I bring a breast to my
mouth.  I watch myself lick and kiss my breasts like I would a lover's. I
reach for a nipple with my teeth and quiver. I feel an explosion of warmth
on my hand as I bite lovingly on an aching nipple. 

Isak 1997

3. getting your hand wet

                "I want to fuck you when you are a girl."
                      put on red, fucking red lips.
                            paint your nails.
                           make your skin soft.
                     "I want you to wear that dress.
           Pull up your skirt for me and spread your legs wide.
                     I want to fuck you like a boy."

*****    What makes me hot:  anyone who can recite 
*****    Charles Bukowski from memory.  
*****    (Super hot if they know sexpot)

6. expressing yourself

Electroweb-A-tronic Hypersmut
by Quacky

This time we'll be talking about porn pictures that can be had from
web sites. In particular I'd like to mention, not really a whole bunch
of secret sites that have all the free porn pictures you can eat, but
instead it would probably help to just talk about my whole experience
getting porn pictures from the web, and maybe that will lead to

I've completely given up getting porn pictures over the web from home.
for lots-n-lots of technical reasons: slow modem, slow PC, Netscape
takes up 8 megabytes of RAM, porn websites are full of noise and

But my employer graciously allows me the use of part of a very high
speed connection to the internet. So my strategy is to steal time from
my employer to look at porn. What could be better?!!! Ha ha ha!

Of course it can be scary: I might get caught right? They might be
watching my traffic, gathering data about what sites I visit. Well I
know for a fact they don't because they are too FUCKING stupid to
figure out how to do that, or even that they should. HA!

So here's a strategy for you if you want to totally drown in porn pictures
from the web:  forget it! Unless you get a great job temping for an agency
with high speed internet, and doors that lock... It's just not worth it
really. Here's why. 

It useta be that the web was just full of little tiny sites by guys who
diligently downloaded stuff from newsgroups, scanned old porno mags,
bought those $19 porno-CDroms in the back of all the mainstream computer
rags. I guess there still are some of those  around, and anyone can find
them with a little skillful searching. But the big problem is that
"commercial interests have taken over the net" (groan!). Everyone useta
say that would be the downfall of the Internet/Web. And when it comes to
porn pictures  on the web it's really true. Ever since some prick figured
out there was money to be made by putting up little fences around archives
of dirty pictures, it hasn't been the same. 

Now we see a whole structure of tightly controlled sites that offer lots
of blinking images, throbbing orbs, tacky animations of robot blowjobs,
awful color combinations, and (after a few clicks to 'teaser' pics) a
little gray box that says 'Members enter password here.' All the meat is
behind the door where that icky guy is sitting waiting to take your money.
And I guess that's how it's spozed ta be.  That's how it is in the real
world right? It's not like you can go in to the local porn shop and just
sit down and fire up the VCR, pull open a bag of Swedish Hardcore mags,
crack open a Shasta, and wank off. Ya gotta put yer quarters in the slot,

You might find you've become so obsessed that you begin to think about
actually PAYING to have access to the tens of thousands of porn pix these
sites promise. The best deals used to be paying for some kind of adult
validation service. 

I'm sure if you do enough surfing you'll find links to these places. I
paid one of them $9.95 (with my Card over the net even!) and I've never
regretted it. But then again I'm on that fast connection! Try : 
http://www.adultpass.com/links.htm or http://www.adultcheck.com/links.html
or Age Verification System (AVS) at http://www.landslide.com But wait!
Online porn pictures still offer a glimmer of hope. Because there are
bargains and freebies and wonderful perverts who are willing to donate
their collections to smut leeches like me. How do you find them though?
Well that's where that high speed internet connection comes in handy
again. Hey, see if you can get a temp job all by yourself on the SWING
SHIFT! yeah! 

What you want to do is start with a couple of good 'seed sites.' And from
there, just surf, and bookmark bookmark bookmark. You'll find that there
are lots of little hidden areas like "links to free XXX webpages HERE!"
And for sure most of them will  probably have closed up shop by the time
you get there, but you'll be sure to find some gems along the way. You'll
find yourself going to Virtual Amsterdam, a PC in some guy's dorm room,
through secret back doors, to Japan (where most likely your browser's 
words will turn into bizarre garbage).... all over the place. You never know
what you might find. 

Well, actually you can pretty much guess what you're likely to find:  60%
softcore pent-boy blah, 20% fake lesbo ho-hum, 10% pretty interesting M-F
insertions or facials, 5% really really interesting exotic miscellanea, %3
real homosexual interaction ( mostly quite tame), %1 real and very
interesting hetero action, and 1% things that might upset you so much you
just can't stop looking at them. The amateurs are generally more
interesting than the pros, and garbage is pretty much the rule. But just
keep going and going for hours and hours ( if you can stand it at slow
speeds) until you are numb, and ready to explode.  Here's a couple of good
places to start: 

*****Persian Kitty's Adult Links (http://www.persiankitty.com) has got
to be the oldest and biggest, and very well respected. PK is sponsored
by ads from all the pay-for sites, but she's collected TONs of
free-pics links for your pleasure.

***Naughty Linx (http://www.naughty.com) is pretty big and fairly well
organized, though I haven't really tried alot of their links to see if
they are mostly free stuff.

****CyberPorn Sex Links (http://www.cyberporn.inter.net/indexp.html)
is chock full of links, including quite a bit of informational stuff.
They claim to be constantly checking whether these links are accurate,
so that seems valuable.

*****Society for Human Sexuality
(http://www.sexuality.org/) is a great site put up by a bunch of folks
associated with the University of Washington. It's not really full of porn
or porn links, but it is a valuable resource that I'll feature in another
column. After you've pleasured yourself numb from surfing, stop in here
for lots of factual data (always free!).

OK. I'm tired. I'm going to finish myself off and go to sleep. Always
lurking somewhere out there...

7. working in the garden
8. hula-hooping
9. digging for my keys
10. taking a dip

The room felt chilly. My dress just short enough to expose my bare ass. I
knew it was coming, the crack of his hand as it made contact. My skin was
already crawling with anticipation. The sensation traveling up my spine
as my shoulders tensed. My eyes close, and my breath is short as I
remember to breathe, just breathe. 

Then, my glance catches a cake, glowing with delicate little candles. The
strangers voice I have anticipated is instead my lovers, flipping up my
frilly party dress and saying, "Hello honey, happy birthday. Are you ready
for cake and your birthday spanking?" 

amy jean

11. getting a stain out of my carpet

4 reasons I knew I was into S&M 
before I was 13:

1. I got caught playing spanking games with the girl next door when her
mom found red welts on her behind at bath time. 

2. My first sexual fantasy was rather strange. (see the following page.) 

3. I used to check out books from the library on Medieval torture
practices and get wet. 

4. I was raised Catholic and instilled with a passion to emulate a man
hanging from a cross with nails pounded through his hands and feet.

12. visiting Niagra Falls


Picture this:  a young girl lying on a canopy bed, her head resting on
plump pillows trimmed in white eyelet. She's surrounded by stuffed toys
and pictures of Rex Smith tacked to the wall. Her eyes close and...

I enter a large room. It reminds me of the enormous ball rooms I've seen
in movies, where men in white powdered wigs dance with women in corsets. I
have emerald green ribbons in my hair and am wearing my prettiest,
fanciest dress. An older couple enters a door in the far wall. They are
very prim and proper, aristocratic type people with permanently stern
expressions on their creased faces. I immediately sense I've been naughty
and trouble is on its way. The couple walks up to me and the woman grab s
my right hand, while the man firmly grasps my left. No words are spoken.
They quickly lead me over to a set of french doors, open them, and when we
walk through we enter a small, dank room. The room appears to be empty,
except for a large wardrobe close t in the center. The couple pulls me
over to the closet and opens the doors wide. Inside the closet are a
seemingly unlimited amount of leather and chain restraints, connected to
every corner and wall of the closet. Across the back and sides of are
sever all small openings with doors that slide open from the outside. The
woman pulls the ribbons from my hair and unzips my dress as the man lifts
me up into the closet and secures my arms with two of the straps hanging
from the top. The woman then pulls off my dress, shoes, and tights,
leaving me only in a white cotton slip. She ties a silk scarf around my
mouth, while the man finishes securing my ankles, hands, and legs with
various straps and shuts the door so I am left in complete darkness. I am
suspended i n the center of the closet unable to move my body even an
inch. I can hear strange noises outside. Things being dragged across the
floor, lids opening and shutting, footsteps circling.  I hear one of the
doors behind me slide open and a faint, eerie blue light shines into the
box. Just then I hear a loud crack, but nothing registers until seconds
later when I feel a warm sting begin to spread across the back of my

The small door quickly shuts and I hear another open off to my left side. 
Again a crack and the subsequent warmth, this time on my calf. The doors
begin to open and close faster than I can follow and not an inch of my
skin is spared the sensations leather produces when administered with such
zeal. It seems to last an eternity. My brain goes into another world
blurring the lines between pleasure and pain. I think I will pass out. 
Then it all suddenly stops and I feel hands, covered in supple leather
gloves, reaching out and gently touching me, stroking me. I hand touches
my hair and my cheek, as another caresses my thigh and my hips. They touch
me cautiously, delicately as if I would break if handled too rough. Then
the hands disappear and I am left alone, in-between rapture and
exhaustion, biding my time until my release.

what turns me on:  girls who go up and talk to stangers

13. making soup
14. parting the red sea


Recently, I had the experience of a relatively close friend suggest to
other people, when I was not present, that I might be a whore or a slut. 
Upon learning of this, I took great offense and felt betrayed and upset. 
Then I calmed myself down, took a step back from the whole scenario, and
realized I'm not even aware of what those words truly mean. The reason I
automatically had a negative reaction to the comments can be traced
directly back to middle school when the words were used to refer to the
girls nobody liked because they were viewed as "loose". Who knows if they
were actually doing "it", but they wore heavy make-up, tight clothes, and
had most likely developed breasts and hips before the rest of us. 

     So, before I enacted my revenge upon the perpetrator of the comments,
I decided to explore what had actually been said and uncover the real
meanings behind the words. Follow me through my journey with Webster's: 


     First I checked out the history of the word whore. If we go back to
its root in the Indo-European language, we find the base ka, which means
to like, be fond of, or desire. Very friendly and nice, no bad feelings
there. Even farther back to its Latin origin we find the word carus, which
means dear and precious. How sweet. 

     Next I explored the Modern English definitions:

           1. same as prostitute.

              OK. If I was to use this definition it absolutely would not
              apply to me, because I've never accepted money for sex, not
              that there is anything wrong with earning a living in this

           2. Any woman who engages in promiscuous sexual intercourse.

               All right. This could be me. I am a woman and I do engage
               in intercourse. I'm still a little unclear on this 
               promiscuous thing. So, let's look it up. 


      1. characterized by a lack of discrimination, engaging in sexual 
      intercourse indiscriminately or with many persons.

      Well, I happen to think I'm rather discriminating, so that wouldn't
      apply. However, I get caught on that OR. Sure I've had sex with many 
      persons. Now I'm assuming this to mean many persons over the course of 
      your life, not many persons all at once (although that could be fun). 
      Well, there's nothing wrong with that. I'd say it defines a good, 
      healthy sex life.

      2. without plan or purpose, casual.

      Definitely applies to me. Hell yes I have casual sex without a "plan" 
      in mind. I definitely have a purpose, to get off, but I'm not sure if 
      that applies.

      So, if I take the definitions, that apply to me, from both these words, 
      I get the following definition of the word whore:

            any woman who engages in casual sexual intercourse or any 
            woman who engages in intercourse with many persons.

All right then. I am a whore. And, by golly, a whore is a good thing to
be. I never knew this. Gosh, I think every woman I know is a whore. Oh,
except one. I'm thinking we should reclaim this word and make it a
positive affirmation of a healthy, comfortable  sexual being. Whores of
the world unite! 

Tangent - OK. One thing that bothers me about this whole whore business,
is it specifically states this word only applies to women. I searched for
a word with the same meaning, only addressing men, and came up with
nothing. (The closest I got was gigolo b  it included an exchange of
goods or money.)  Does anyone know if a word like this exists?  And if it
doesn't, what does this say about our society?  No surprise. 

Well, I'm a whore. I'm proud to be a whore. Whores rock!  The question
still remains, am I a slut?  Let's find out... 


            1. a careless, dirty, slovenly woman. (again with the specifying 
            woman thing)

            Nope, that is not me. I bathe, practically, every day. I'm not 
            careless, a little forgetful at times, but still careful. 
            Slovenly?  Heck no, look at me, Miss Energy Unbound.

            2. a sexually immoral woman. (it's all about us girls.)

            Hmmm. Fuzzy on this immoral / moral issue. More definition!

            1. contrary to the moral code of the community;  not in 
            conformity with the accepted standards of proper sexual behavior.

            Sounds pretty subjective. Moral code of the community. Now, 
            should I view America as being one big community?  Because, yes, 
            then I would be immoral. I'm sure some of my sexual practices 
            are not generally acceptable by the right-wing white men 
            controlling Americas moral code. (or they'd never admit to it)  
            However, I'm going to think of community as a smaller, more 
            personal word. In my community, the community of my friends and 
            peers, I fit right into the moral code. So, by that definition I 
            am not immoral and, therefore, not a slut. 

Being a whore will have to suffice. Hey you, join Pepper's cult of whores.
Look at me!  Pepper, Queen of the Whores. Whores of the world come
together. Be free. Revel in your whoredom! 

15. taking a dip in the lake
16. toggling the bit
17. patting Yoda on the head

                 Excerpt from Sex Training in the Home,  
                 by Dr. Winfield Scott Hall. 
                 Published in 1927 

The Hygiene of Continence

* THE THOUGHTS must be kept clean, and as far as possible removed from sex
matters. In order to accomplish this it is important for a young man to
choose his reading and his associates with that in view. Erotic literature
and unclean, suggestive stories s are inimical to continence. It goes
without saying that the man who thinks about sexual matters, especially
the one whose imagination runs wild upon all kinds of sexually stimulating
images, is only inviting temptation to relax his continence. If he
controls his thoughts during those times when he is less amenable to
temptation, he is far more likely to be able to control his acts at those
times when his physical condition makes him most amenable to temptation...

* ABSTEMIOUS LIVING is of great importance, The continent living man finds
his problem greatly facilitated by simple, even frugal living. Cut down
red meat to one moderate portion per day, and not over two eggs per day.
Choose coarse breads whenever a choice is afforded. Use fruits and
vegetables very freely. Use coffee very temperately, if at all. Use no
tobacco, and no alcoholic drinks - not a drop. There seems to be absolute
incompatibility between strong drink and continence. 

* DANCING does not make continent living easier, especially the new fads
in dancing. Gymnastic dances, the folk dances, and the square dances of
the days of our grandparents are innocent and entertaining. But the modern
one-step, hesitation, and tango a re suggestive and seductive, while the
fox trot, turkey trot, bunny hug, etc., are abominable. 

     If a young man has difficulty to control a tendency toward
self-abuse, learned in his boyhood, how may he gain control? 
1. Control the thoughts.  
2. Avoid insidious beginnings of temptation.  
3. Sleep in a cool room, on a hard bed, under as light cover as will
   secure comfort.  
4. Observe absolute cleanliness of the person.  
5. Arise at once as soon as you awake in the morning... 


I've always had the biggest problem with this word. Then my friend, Cyndi,
showed me the true meaning. Bitch was originally one the most sacred
titles of the Goddess, Artemis. Artemis was the daughter of Zeus and twin
sister to Apollo. She was the goddess of the hunt, meadows, forests, and
fields. Many wild animals were both sacred and sacrificed to her. She was
a "maiden" goddess, and an excellent example of a strong, independent,
intelligent woman. So, when the word bitch is used in this publication, it
should be interpreted to mean a woman with qualities similar to those
possessed by Artemis. 

                      all I want is for her to put on her dress
                      the red one
                      I want  to watch her lower her head 
                      as she slips it over
                      then raises her arms to let it fall down
                      she holds up her hair as she fastens the back
                      it hangs on her hips like smoke hangs in the air...

what makes me wet:  waking up and smelling you on my fingers

22. rubbing the magic lamp

             Fragility:  the early morning dew froze this morning, 
             froze this body; I am not crisp beneath the tulle of 
             cycles forming. Roll amongst the green bristles and 
             confectionist's powder warms to glaze--his sweat, his 
             semen. Fluids stayed, frozen as the crawl of him on 
             fours, energy pointed but movement so minimal, a 
             little bad a little leak, a dribble spittle spat like 
             ecstasy from my lips to my leg.

             -- Robert M Keefe

23. visiting Niagara Falls

(my own little freak out)

A crush is an infatuation. Infatuation is to be completely carried away by
foolish or shallow love or affection. To lose, temporarily, your sound
judgement and act like a fool. OK. See, it's harmless. And it doesn't
usually last very long. You just see s someone, think they're cute, pine
over them for awhile, then move on. So, if someone has a crush on you, and
you're not interested, don't freak out. Just wait . It'll go away. You
don't have to stop being their friend, or avoid them like the plague.  And
likewise, if you have a crush on someone and they aren't responding, just
wait it out. It only stings for a second.  I get crushes constantly, I
know what I'm talking about. I think they're healthy and keep us feeling
alive. Now, a little sharing for all l the crushees out there:  the
absolute worst thing that's been said to me when I told someone I had a
crush on them - " I thought you did. Well, I'll see you later."  Ouch. 

***  What turns me on right now:  boys with big noses.

24. making soup

I have a friend, requesting to remain anonymous, who proclaims to have
actualized every sexual fantasy she has ever had. I asked her to share her
secrets of success with me. Here's what she told me: 

First you have to admit your fantasies to yourself, and allow yourself to
be comfortable with anything, no matter how strange it may seem. If it
turns you on, it turns you on. 

Second you have to decide if you really want to act out the fantasy. I
might love to masturbate to the image of having sex with all the
passengers on a 747, but in reality it would not be very fun.

Next you need to formulate a fairly specific plan, while still keeping
parts of it general. An example would be: "I want to sleep with Drew
Barrymore and Uma Thurman at the same time."  Not likely. But, you could
say, "I want to sleep with two women at the e same time". Much better

Finally, talk about your fantasies with everyone. The more people you
tell, the more likely you are to run into someone who a) has the same
fantasy, b) is willing to participate in your fantasy, or c) knows someone
else who'd be into it. People are genera  pretty receptive to talking
about sex, and fantasies are some of the more interesting sex talk around. 

I guess that's it. Those things combined with a good dose of luck. Cheers.

****what turns me on now:  straight men who find other men sexy

24. parting the Red Sea

Totem Pole

(c) Opuntia 1994

I guess when I was in high school I was pretty high on the social totem
pole. Not at the very top, but up there. I was one of the few
underclassmen to get invited to senior parties, anyway. The senior guys
seemed to regard me as "cool" or something. 

It could have been that they were even a little afraid of me. I remember
really clearly a moment I was talking with some of them in the hall, and
realized that *they* were trying to impress *me*. What was this?  They
were so huge and masterful, rulers of the world. They went on *dates*. 
They drove *cars*. But now they needed me more than I needed them! 

I kept nodding and acting wowed by whatever they were saying, but the
world was turning inside out and I was the only one who could see it.
Their talk became a babble, and suddenly I saw them pitifully, like sick
animals with pink and bleating guts exposed. I became completely aware of
other things going on far up and down the long hall: the laughter of my
friends, the squeals of some little kids I hated, the worried gossip of
some ones I watched out for... 

A babbler was staring at me, perturbed. He had seen something had changed.
It was like we both knew right then that I had more spirit than him, that
I had, in fact, already eclipsed him somehow. I felt heady and powerful
for a second. Then I walked away and was overtaken by the weight of
something huge and brooding. 

Anyway, I don't think I respected them after that. I definitely didn't
trust them. I'd rather hang with the guys in my class any day. They were
solid; they were pure. 

The senior girls were a different story. I was in an arty clique, and I
think they saw me as "intense" or "interesting". They always tried to get
me drunk and engage me in these sophisticated discussions, and I was
*into* it. They drank mysterious-sounding stuff like "brandy" and talked
about books I thought only I had read. 

Even though they were just one or two years older, they were so unlike the
girls my age. Their voices weren't thin and whiny. They didn't giggle.
They weren't awkward in their bodies.  And they seemed to just *know*
things.  I had a feeling that when they walked down the hall, they knew
that all the boys were watching their tits and asses, and they didn't
really care... 

It sounds dumb now, but I was flattered just to be in their presence. I
never would have come on to them -- it just wasn't my place to do so.
Though it's not like the idea wasn't on my mind. I guess there were a lot
of times I would leave from hanging out with them, feeling all cool and
confident, and sneak into my girlfriend's window and fool around with her.
It was so innocent then; sex was gentle vista we were exploring. No,
better yet, it was like this *amazing* new sport I was just gonna keep
getting better and better at. It didn't occur to me that it could have
meant anything she was one year younger than me. It was really a pretty
rigid social structure and I didn't even realize it. 

The only hint I remember getting that they even thought that way about me
was from this quiet, intense senior named Lynnette. Once she called me up
and asked me to go to see _Rocky Horror_ with her. I was excited -- it was
kind of an honor then, to go see this *cool* movie at *midnight* with
*seniors*. Then I felt weird when I realized we weren't going with anybody

What was up with her anyhow?  A lot of the time she seemed like a total
square.. She would actually leave parties *early* so she could read or go
to sleep. She looked like a librarian, with her funny short hair and body
hidden beneath dumpy old clothes. But she hung out with some of the
coolest girls in school. And the one time we had really talked she had
said some of the darkest, strangest things I had ever heard. 

When she laughed, something in her eyes would dance. You got the feeling
she was laughing 'cause she had seen it all before, like she was some
potent old witch finding life again in a young girl's body -- yet who
could never quite forget her bitter past. 

When she picked me up I could tell that she had made an effort to look
nice. For her, she had dressed up pretty funky. She still looked like a
librarian, really, but she had tried. The dress she wore showed something
of her chest and legs for once. 

I noticed how broad and graceful her shoulders were. The way her neck
curved into her shoulders was elegant, like those tall strong African
women in National Geographic. I imagined her breasts pointing up the way
theirs did. Her whole body was like that: broad, but thin and graceful. 

She was dressed up like this was a date. 

That was impossible, 'cause she was a senior. Wasn't it?  But I wanted her
now, I wanted to expose those breasts and thighs. What would I do after
that?  I had no idea. She was so different from my girlfriend. 

But when we started talking, she seemed really down about something, so I
figured maybe she just wanted someone to talk to. After the movie we
stayed up at the diner talking about whatever. When she dropped me off,
she seemed happier. 

                          *  *  *

Then they all went away to college and I became one of the seniors. The
older kids faded into legend. In a way they became even bigger, these
ghostly presences that everybody would invoke and try to associate
themselves with. When they came home on breaks it was hard to see them
because they had so many people to catch up with. So I knew something was
up when one Christmas break, Lynnette called me up and asked me to go "out
for a drink." 

I tried to be all casual, like sure, that'd be cool. But I was excited.
I'd been drinking for years, but the way teenagers do, in dark parking
lots and sweaty keg parties.  I had never been asked "out for a drink"
before. What happened when you went "out for a drink" with somebody?  I
honestly had no idea. 

And wasn't that something people did to pick each other up?  When that
thought struck me my throat dried up. What did she want?  I had to
concentrate to act surly for my parents. 

In the bar our fake id's passed and she ordered the kind of drinks my
parents drank -- little brown ones that tasted like poison. For once in my
life I enjoyed it. It was *smooth* poison. She was talking a lot about
college and how wild life in her dorm was, with all these drugs and
blatant sex. I was listening and trying to act cool, like yeah, that's the
kind of stuff I do every day. But I was amazed. 

I had thought *I* was pretty wild. Now this square was doing all these
drugs and sleeping with all these people.  And why was she telling me all
this?  Did she know she was making me horny?  On the way in to the bar, I
had admired the shape of her ass in her tight jeans. Now I kept looking at
her chest and she didn't seem to care. In fact, she'd pause and lean in
towards me, looking me right in the eyes, before she told me the wildest
parts. It was almost like she was inviting me to have a better look. 

I could almost see her nipples. She was wearing a vest with no shirt
underneath. Her necklace of hippie beads dangled down into her cleavage,
and the beads flashed and jumped in the candlelight with her slightest
motions, as if they were wild red and black tongues that she had charmed
into forever licking and teasing. I thought, whoa, she has changed. 

I decided this was all *too* much. 

Older girls never came on to me. So Lynnette was just waving these wild
stories in front of my face for some bitchy reason I couldn't comprehend,
and wasn't really interested in me. What, was it my job to be impressed
with her, like those stupid older guys wanted me to? 

At that point I think she noticed something had changed.  When we drove
home I asked her to drop me off at my friend's house. I wanted to be with
someone that wasn't gonna treat me like an inferior. 

I was about to get out of the car and we were saying call me sometime,
yeah, yeah, when she grabbed my hand. 

"No, I *do* wanna see you again," she said. 

Her thumb was sitting in the middle of my palm. I looked at it and
realized my body had gone absolutely still. 

The thumb was moving -- pressing gently and making little circles. I had
never been so hypnotized by any touch anywhere. My eyes were fixed, but
swinging in and out of my vision were those fiery red and black beads... 

I realized vaguely that for the first time in my life, I was being
seduced. My cock was straining against my jeans. "What are you doing
tonight?" she said directly. 

"Um, nothing."  I tried to be proud. 

"My parents are gone skiing. Why don't you come over?"  Then she leaned
over and stuck her tongue in my mouth. It was strong and warm. My eyelids
closed involuntarily. I got lost in the movement of her tongue inside of
my mouth, the way it tasted like water... she knew what she was doing. 

After a dazed, amazed while I managed to assent. 

"Alright," I said. 

I felt her neatly and precisely stop. What's up now?  I wondered. My eyes

There she was, hands back on the steering wheel, looking at me like, well,
aren't you getting out of the car? 

"Okay, see you then," she said curtly. 

She *was* being a tease!  What a bitch!  I got out of the car. 

So she did wanna fuck around with me. I resolved she was gonna get fucked
good tonight. She thought I was some little innocent virgin boy and she
was gonna show me the ropes. Some women were into that, right?  She didn't
know I had been sneaking into my girlfriend's bed every midnight for a
year; she didn't know how much I had learned about where to bite, where to
put my fingers, how to wiggle my tongue. I could make my girlfriend wet
with a single touch. I could lick her pussy until she was shaking and
totally beyond control. Lynnette wasn't gonna treat me like her little

                          * * *

When I got there she was cool, like nothing was going on.  We had some
random conversation over some drink. My bullshit sentences kept trailing
off in anticipation of what I was there for, and she'd laugh in that way
that said she knew exactly what she wanted, and expected me to follow her
plan to get it. 

I was getting tired of the whole game when she stuck that amazing tongue
in my mouth again. We got down on the living room carpet in the midst of
all this bourgeois furniture and made out, stroking each other through our
clothes. I loved it. My hands checked out every part I was gonna be master
of in a few minutes -- her sweet curved ass held in tight by her jeans,
the breasts she had flaunted in the bar, the neck I had admired a whole
year ago... 

My lips were sliding down her neck when she spoke up. 

"Woah, slow down! we've got all night..."  She laughed at me. It was
exactly the way you'd say that to a little boy. 

Thing was, I *was* being slow. 

"You can kiss me there now."  She pointed to a spot higher on her neck. 

She expected me to follow her orders!  I was so angry I rolled my eyes. 

But I did it. 

I kissed her there. I knew how to do it good. I bit very lightly and
watched the goose bumps ripple all over, just like I knew they would. She
wasn't *that* different from my girlfriend. I heard her moan, and moved
down towards her chest. 

"Did I say you could go there?  Do that again." 

What a bitch!  I don't know why I did it again. She liked it. 

"You can kiss me there now," she said, pointing to a spot about a
centimeter lower. I told myself this was boring.  I told myself it was
stupid. But I did it. As she shivered with pleasure, I watched her beads
rolling down into the space between her breasts and was jealous of them. 

I knew I was gonna have to do what she told me, so I just did. Every time
it seemed like she was losing control and I tried to take over she'd
direct me again. My blood was boiling but my cock was harder than it ever
was for my girlfriend. I hate to admit it, but I was grateful when she
finally exposed her breasts and let me get lost in them. What the fuck was
wrong with me? 

Finally our clothes were off, her legs were splayed wide open, and her
cunt was right under my face, its lips all fat and slick. I was regaining
my composure. She was helpless, and I knew what I was doing now. 

I teased her clit with the tip of my tongue and started a slow rhythm. I
wasn't going to break it. When her mound started to push up and down to
try to get more, I wouldn't let her have it. I took her ass in my hands so
I could better control what was going on. When I started fucking her with
my tongue, she moaned so slutty, I just had to start rubbing my cock
against the floor. Her pussy juice started dripping onto the fancy
oriental rug and that turned me on more. Finally I went back to her clit
and licked until her body buckled and wouldn't stop shaking. 

I scrambled up to her face knowing I had pleased her. 

"I bet you wanna fuck me now," she said, still weak and sensitive from the
orgasm. I smiled and kissed her tenderly; She sounded so soft compared to
before. So I was surprised when, then, she managed to give me a look that
was the exact equivalent of her laugh. 

"I bet you wanna fuck me now, don't you..."  I could almost hear her
finish the sentence "...little boy," and it made me furious. 

She rolled over on her side so her ass was right there in front of my
chest. There were her gorgeous hips offered up, pussy lips sticking out
and so close and wet I could still smell them. Oh, yes, I did want to fuck
her. I started moving up to do it. 

"Well you can't," she said solidly. "Not yet." 

I almost exploded. This woman was too much of a tease to be worth it. I
started thinking of a way to get out of it. Then she laughed again. 

"But you were good. You deserve *something*," she said, eyes dancing. 

She leapt up laughing and wrapped her lips around my cock.  I couldn't
believe it as I watched the entire thing disappear down her throat. My
girlfriend could never do that. Lynnette was so sure of what she was
doing. I felt her beads fall down cool and smooth around the base of my
cock as she worked on me. I came quicker than I ever had from my
girlfriend's cute little mouth. 

                          * * *

We left the bourgeois living room smelling of sex. I loved that --
desecrating that room. Sex was truth and this room was full of suburban
lies. Parents could never imagine what went on when they were gone. 

In the shower she teased me, rubbing her ass against my cock, but I played
along with it this time. I knew I was gonna get some soon. When she walked
out of the bathroom and left me there drying myself off with her parent's
towels, I thought about how the evening was finally going the way I wanted

When I walked into the bedroom there was another guy standing there naked,
cock stiff, leaning against the wall. 

Lynnette sat on the bed looking at me matter-of-factly. 

"Uh, Lynnette, I don't know what's going on, but--"  I started. 

"You want to fuck me, don't you?"  Her eyes were laughing at me. 

"If you want to fuck me you're going to have to take care of your friend,"
she continued. 

I realized he was somebody I knew from a long time ago. A few years ago we
had been on the same soccer team. He had been one of the slow, clumsy
ones, relegated to stare from the sidelines until one of the starters
needed a rest.  But then he started going to a different school. 

He looked different now, thin and taut. Embarrassed and scared as hell,
but in really good shape. He wasn't soft, getting a beer belly already
like some of the seniors were. His name was Kevin. 

Oh my god. How did she know?  How did she know this was going to turn me
on?  I had never told anyone I had even thought about it. 

I looked at her, amazed. When she smiled I could hear her crazy, wise
laugh again, like she was 10,000 years old and knew everything. 

She was going back to college... He was from another school... I knew
somehow that I could trust them anyway... 

"If you ever- tell- anyone..."  I sputtered. 

She shook her head solemnly then smiled again. She was still wearing those
sexy fucking beads. 

When I went to touch him he was solid and smooth, just like I imagined
another boy's body would be. Our cocks rubbed together as I ran my hands
over his chest. It was like coming home. I knew exactly how to kiss his
body.  When I took his cock in my mouth, I had never felt anything so warm
or alive. 

Lynnette sat on the edge of the bed, eyes and mouth wide open like she was
10 years old and watching the best circus act ever. She was still except
for the motion of her hand between her legs. I could hear the squishing of
her pussy as she rubbed and fucked herself. 

She started encouraging us, telling us we were sexy and she didn't care
what we did; she just wanted to see us come. Kevin was starting to
tremble. He was so nervous, and he wanted to come so bad. I struggled not
to gag or bite him as he impulsively pushed deeper into my throat.  I knew
he couldn't help it. 

Then everything was happening at once. Kevin's cock was throbbing,
Lynnette was crying out something and shaking on the bed, and hot sperm
was squirting into my mouth. I had to struggle to drink it all. As it slid
down my throat I wanted more. 

Then I was kneeling in front of some guy's body in a house I had hardly
ever been in before, unable to look at anyone or believe what I had done.
The whole world was turning upside down again. 

Lynnette led me over to the bed and kept saying, "oh, you are so good,"
and shaking her head like she couldn't believe her fortune. She kissed me
and told me and Kevin we deserved something. 

I forgot my existential crisis as she rolled around on the bed stretching
and showing us her body, telling us we were so good we deserved something

Finally she said, "okay, you can fuck me now." 

And she let us both fuck her. She lay down on her side and let me fuck her
from behind while she took the head of Kevin's cock in her mouth. When I
pumped her good she would shake and Kevin's cock would slip out of her
mouth.  It would rub wet and shiny over her face for a few seconds, then
she'd take it back in. We were fucking her back and front, mouth and cunt.
This earth mother with her hips wide was accepting us all. 

When I started pumping her really hard she couldn't hold it in her mouth
anymore and just lay back and moaned. She told Kevin to rub it on her

Then she started talking wildly about how when we came, she wanted us to
rub our come into her. I couldn't believe it. 

She started pleading and begging us: come on me, rub it into me, I need
it. An hour ago she had practically been making me beg her!  I had never
been so turned on by anything. When I saw her gasp and lick as Kevin
started coming on her face, I couldn't stand it anymore. I pulled out and
came all over her ass and the outside of her pussy. 

She lay there shaking and running her hands all over her body, mixing me
and Kevin's sperm together and rubbing it into her nipples and pussy. She
even touched her beads with it, and they got all shiny and seemed to glint
in the light. She was enraptured by it, like it was some kind of magic
potion that was going to bless her and protect her from evil. 

I had never felt so accepted. 

She told us we should lick it all over her body, that if we did she'd let
us fuck her all night. We did it and we fucked her all night. 

It got to be like 5 am and me and Kevin had to get home before our parents
woke up. We agreed we'd never tell anyone about this. I guess I'm breaking
my promise now. 

I was totally amazed for a few days. I think my mom could tell something
had changed in me. She looked at me and her eyes creased in a funny way. 

I called Lynnette and she was nice, but cool to me, busy with stuff. She
went back to college a few days later and I never heard of her again. 

                          * * *

It wasn't 'til years later that I realized that there was this one
underclass girl who I used to show favors to.  She was "intense" and
"interesting."  I didn't mind that she'd follow me around, that she'd try
to stay with me up all night, later than anybody else, or come see me
after school when my parents were at work. I knew she was trying to get me
alone, have me to herself. I didn't mind; in fact I kind of liked it. She
looked up to me.  And she never expected anything. 

Sometimes I wish I would have done to her what Lynnette did to me. I
realize now I could have done it. I could have come back from college for
the summer, after she had waited all year to see me, and turned her from a
bratty little sister into my dark little lover. If I had teased her and
told her what to do, she would have been offended.  But her little pussy
would have quivered. 

Maybe I did do it to her. It's almost like I remember it that way now. I
pulled her body towards me... I knew even then that she was waiting for
that. She wanted to feel what it was like to climb into my arms and press
our bodies together, so I let her. 

I let her get lost in the smell of my chest, and when she murmured I felt
that small vibration in my entire body. 

I told her she could unbutton my shirt, and taught her how to kiss my
nipples. She did it so nervously!  I realized she had always tried *so
much* to please me, and I had hardly noticed. Now it made me so hard, to
feel her anxious mouth while I breathed in the smell of her hair;  to
watch her ass, the one she always hid beneath baggy boy's clothes, now
curved and female as she bent and the fabric stretched tight. 

When she started to kiss lower, I told her she couldn't - unless she took
off her shirt. She got flustered and confused, and I told her very plainly
she couldn't kiss me any more unless her shirt was off. She stared at me,
eyes blazing, and then did it. I felt her breasts sliding on my stomach,
nipples hardening, as she climbed back onto me. 

I knew it wasn't the first time she had done this. She had had a little
boyfriend all year. But no one had ever made her wait like this. 

I knew she would put up with it. The letters she sent me at college were
so secret and intense, I had a feeling she had written them feverishly, in
the middle of the night, by flashlight under the covers. And she hadn't
fallen asleep until she had rubbed herself to exhaustion with her little
fingers and the tube of smooth, cool plastic. 

When she started to unbutton my jeans, I told her she couldn't -- first
she'd have to rub her face against the bulge and beg me. She was so
shocked and angry her mouth dropped open. Why was I being such a jerk? 
Then she started rubbing her face against me in desperation. She didn't
beg loud enough, and I told her I couldn't hear her. I made her so angry
and horny the crotch of her pants was all stained by the time she took
them off. 

When her lips finally got to my cock, I was ever so patient. I watched her
and stroked her wild hair. I didn't try to push it in farther than she
wanted it. I watched her ass move as her head bobbed up and down, and
thought about how, soon, my cock would be moving in her little pussy, and
I'd be hearing her cry out. 

I told her if she sucked me good I'd give her something. 

That made make her little mouth start moving up and down faster!  I told
her more -- if she sucked me good, I'd touch her little pussy. If she
sucked me good, I'd slide my cock between the cheeks of her ass. By the
time I said I'd take her up to my room, she was fucking her own mouth with
my cock, frantic to make me come. She was so excited by the idea of going
up to my room... 

When my sperm was in her mouth, I gathered her up to me and told her she
was good. It made her so happy to hear that. I told her she'd been so good
I was gonna take care of her, just for today. 

I put her on her side and got behind her. I whispered things in her ears
and reached around to caress her breasts and her stomach. I tweaked her
nipples slowly and turned her head up to me so I could put my tongue in
her mouth. Finally I dipped my fingers into her pussy and pushed and
stroked so gently; I would never hurt her.  When she came, her shaking
made my cock grow hard against her ass. 

Then I took her to my room and made love to her. I didn't mind when she
hung on to me for hours and days afterwards. 

Could I have taken her so far she would have licked a little friend's
pussy?  Maybe if I played it right. I could have teased her about her
secret desires, told her she could do anything with me and I wouldn't
tell. I could have withheld my cock and made her desperate until she did
more and more outrageous things. 

But I wouldn't have thought of it then, a question like, how do you play
things to get people to do stuff?  Even stuff they really want to do?  It
would have seemed insane. Back then I would have thought, don't people
always just do exactly what they want? 

I used to think that love was a fire that could never burn out. I had no
idea the fire could turn bit by bit into a fire-fight, a feud that would
flash in the night and then lay down secret, soft and glowing. Wounds
would heal and suspicion would fade, and then the night would flare up
again, repeating until everything that mattered was dead and everything
else was black and weightless, like burned wood. 

Then I thought love was endless patience and imagination.  Like someone
who's stranded themselves on a beautiful, magical island in the middle of
a lake. There's never any reason to leave. Soon the island's vistas run
out, but with devotion they find new wonder inside every grain of sand,
and ignore the beckoning of the mysterious lands all around them. Then one
day they jump in the water and swim away. 

Now I don't know what love is. 


author's email: lm@spiritone.com


25. using the force
27. stoking the furnace
28. going mining
29. creamin' the pie
31. flossing the cat
32. shooting the rapids
33. finger blasting

                 In Combat With Your Wit

                 I could begin this by saying  
                       something about screaming,
                 but I really don't feel like it.
                 I could also say something about missing you,
                 but that is too damn depressing.
                 I might say something about being
                       under the gun with time
                 but neither of us wants to pull the trigger.

                 So I say to hell with this pentameter...
                 I'm gonna tell you how it is.

                 You are the most beautiful
                 whose body encompasses the moon and the stars
                 thus allowing your mind to focus the intensity
                 of the sun on all you dwarf.

                 This time has been the most perfect for what
                        we have done.
                 Any sooner there was no time.
                 Any later would have been frustrating.
                 I love the fact that we made love.

                 I regret nothing...
                        not the stigma of others
                 not the creaking of the bed
                 And not the fact that I love you
                      more than I thought I could.

                                        ---Jaqueline Harper

34. playing with the little girl in the boat
35. exploring the cave

---------------------Jilling Off----------------------------

My Favorite Sex Toy

Pony Butt Plugs!

Have you seen these?  Beautiful, 
black butt plugs (in varying sizes) 
with long horse tails attached. 
Pop in one of those babies, throw 
on a saddle, strap on some spurs, 
grab the reins and you're ready for 
the ride of your life. 

Easy big fella!

Babe for Today

       Know who I've been dreaming of?  
         Mighty Isis. Superheroine 
         from Ancient Egypt and all 
       around hot chick. North winds 
      that blow on high, lift me up so 
                 I may fly.

Kama Sutra quote:

... a man should rub the yoni of 
a woman with his hands and 
fingers (as the elephant rubs 
anything with his trunk) before 
engaging in congress, until it is 

*******what turns me on  right now:  
*******Guys who want to be your friend first

              Best thing to come along since the G-spot vibrator:  
                         Multiple tongue piercings.

36. popping my bean

The Things People Say When They've Had Too Much to Drink

                 "When I masturbate I talk really dirty to myself. I say
things like. Come on cunt, I'm going to make you come. You little whore." 

                 "So, I cut his pubic hair really short and watched him
jack off. It was kind of like watching a woman with a double ended dildo

                 "Then I woke up and discovered everyone around me was
fucking. All the beds in the room were squeaking. Everyone, except me, was
getting fucked. But then, I realized they are all 19 and I'm 29, my hole
has been fucked a lot more than the , and I don't need to be fucking
right now." 

                 "the question inevitably came up;  would I still love him
if his cock was severed off?  I had to be honest and tell him I could
really care less if he has a cock or not. As long as his fingers are

---don't panic. I got permission from everyone to use these quotes. I'm not  
   printing anyone's secrets. 

*******What turns me on:  
*******lipstick stains on martini glasses.

37. preheating the oven

-----------------------LAST PAGE------------------------

Noticed no porn reviews?  
Is there a good reason?  No.  
If you know of any super-fantastic 
porns, please share. Better yet, 
write a review and send it in.

****************good books to read while masturbating:

                Delta of Venus        by Anais Nin
                Memoirs of a Beatnik  by Diane di Prima
                Little Birds          by Anais Nin
                Story of O            by Pauline Reage

                The Pearl Erotica from the Underground 
                Magazine of Victorian England

 12 Steps to getting action

1. Eye to Body - you see them, you think they're cute.
2. Eye to Eye - hold it past the social norm
3. Voice to Voice - "Hi.",  "Hi.", small talk ensues
4. Hand to Hand - first contact is made by accident or by design
5. Arm to Shoulder - could be by accident, but tension mounts
6. Arm to Waist - getting closer to the zone
7. Mouth to Mouth - kiss kiss...
8. Hand to Head - get a little closer
9. Hand to Body - anywhere you'd like
10. Mouth to Breast - if you've done it right, clothes should be off
11. Hand to Genitals - warming them up
12. Genital to Genital - sexual contact has been achieved


if there  could  be one realm 
in our  lives  where we would 
be able  to  enact,  utter or 
request  anything  we  desire 
without the fear of rejection 
or humiliation  it should  be 
within the arena of sex-play.

12. checking the foxhole

The best piece of love advice I've received so far:  Cast your net wide,
Pepper, cast your net wide. 

38. shuckin' peas


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