Jane and Dick #3

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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.


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experiment 3  -- building up a head of steam
April/May 1997

**something for the girl who knows what it takes to feel good**


Next one due out June 13. Let us know if you want it... 

"Irresponsibility isn't a sickness - it's an art."
- Remington Steele 

*Hey*, Jane and Dick is in no way responsible for any perverted acts or ideas
you  cook up on your own after reading this publication. 
*Plus*... all the rights to this stuff revert to the creators upon publication. 
*Pluuussss*.... Please copy and distribute freely, but when you do, be kind
enough to give credit, and send me a copy!

*my precious babies*:
jon ponsford, lisa smith, jason jensen, and me, pepper montana.

*cover art*: Carl DeWois
*images*: Rex Chambers, Loozie Haalten-Maler, and Carl DeWois


*send me your stuff and submit to me*
*Write to:*
Jane And Dick
P.O. Box 12437
Seattle WA 98111-3437

*I'm just a Jane Looking for my Dick*.

Paddling the pink canoe 

Dear Editor-Pepper,
I wanted to let you know how easy it was for me to talk about sex after reading
your zine. After perusing issue 2, I promptly told my lucky friends in the room
with me about my fantasies of strap-ons! Thanks Pepper!
	A sister in Whoredom
P.S Maybe I'll write them down and submit to you!

J&D says: HERE IT IS!!!!

**Strap on fantasies of a single [female symbol]**
-->I want some pretty queer boy in makeup to put on a strap-on and fuck me from

-->I want some cute little blonde haired stripper with big tits to ride me while
   I'm sitting on the couch, hands wrapped around her waist, sucking her  

-->I want some straight boy to kneel before me and suck my rubber cock. 

-->I want to be on my back, my girlfriend standing above me, teasing me with her
   dick. With a gleam in her eye, she gives me a quick naughty thrust.

-->I want to fuck and be fucked.

Dear Jane and Dick,
Have you really only been putting out your zine for three issues? Cuz I swear
I've seen it somewhere before, like a long time ago.

Are you two people: Jane, and Dick? What's the deal with your zine's title?

Do you think there will ever be like an advice column in here somewhere? Cuz I
could really use some advice once in a while about sex and stuff.

J&D Says:Josh,
         I'm so sorry. No we haven't published anything before Experiment 1.
         Maybe you're confusing us with something Larry Flynt has done? Have you

         read RAVE (or is it RAGE)?

The two fingered tango 


I'm looking at this issue, Experiment 3, and I'm just completely astonished that
it looks totally like it was put together by a man. All the writing is pretty
much man-based, all the pictures glorify male sexual desire. Everything! It's
really blowing me away! Let me try to explain.

See, it's not really Pepper at the helm this time. It's me, Quacky,
guest-editing. And I'm a man. Well, huh! Whaddya know? Seems to me even if I had
given it any thought, and tried to be more self-conscious about the 'gender' of
my layout and editorial discretion, it wouldn't have made any difference.
Because I'm laying it out, and even if I'm pretending to be a girl or a woman or
a transvestite or a roller-derby queen, it's still going to come out as ME. 

But you know what? I didn't even think about it. It just came out that way. 

'Course it makes a big difference that only a few of the things submitted this
time were created by women. "Whalll blooww me down, Quacky! You mean all that
wonderful writing last time isn't as well represented this time?" 

Yup. That's what I mean. I really think we have some awesome writing this time.
And I'm shore not complainin'. I know in the future, balance will return, and we
will achieve a more enlightened genderless (or how 'bout gender-bias-less)
society here inside the walls of Jane and Dick.

Fuck no!

That's not what I mean. That's not even what I want. You know, it used to be
interesting to think about the ideal of building a genderless model for society.
One where none of that injustice happens, and all that. But you know. That's not
such a good idea anymore, because it just so happens that gender, and especially
GENDER DIFFERENCES, are a giant turn-on. Not to say that sleeping with someone
who has the same sex-parts is dull, no no no! But think about it: even in the
most unusual, or the most boring, or the most perverted, or the most pristine
relationship - a big driving force is the difference between the individuals in
that relationship. Let's face it, once you decide that the best way to think
about gender is on a spectrum (or maybe something more three-D than that), then
you can come up with lots and lots of interesting genders, and far as I care,
that just means lots and lots of things I haven't tried yet!



I have this interesting fantasy about young boys and cocksucking. It's
something I used to do when I was a young boy - I sucked another boy's cock, and
he sucked my cock. I don't fantasize about him though because he turned out to
be a bad person in the end. The boy I fantasize about is alot like me only
younger and much more stylish and aware of his cocksucking desire than I was
when I was his age.

So the whole thing is just this... I want to get together with a boy like this,
and just suck each other's cocks alot. Probably never at the same time, because
sucking cock really well requires lots of attention and care. Not like in the
movies you see where the cock sucking is taking place in a situation that's
anathema to real good concentration and devotion to the art. Usually the person
doing the sucking is also required to be doing something else, like getting
fucked up the ass, or giving two other hand jobs.

Strumming the banjo 


Dear Glenn,
Lists are a mania I have.
1. Which Tower store has smut books in the back? That would sure be a fun place
   to pick someone up, if the right person were there just at the right
2. I'm neglecting my work. Or rather, just doing enough to get by.
3. I find myself wanting to tell everyone I know about this relationship.
4. Know any good clubs near Kennedy Center? Perhaps something "smallish . . . .
   smoky. dark. loud.  [with] dim lights of many colors. . ."
5. What's your schedule tomorrow, the 5th?
6. It was mainly Kristeva, Cixous was about where I had to bail out. My point
   was (and maybe you got this without me even mentioning it) that The
   Word (especially written word) can obscure or confuse, and that the
   body is sometimes frustrated by that. (Ahhh how the memory can corrupt
   good philosophy!)
7. Where were you seven years ago? If you say Boston, I'll flip.
8. John Coltrane.
12. Karp.
15. Aretha Franklin (before disco).
17. Wings (yes, the Wings with Paul McCartney).
21. Ornette Coleman.
22. Astor Piazzola.
23. TheCureSiouxsieBauhausNickCave make me feel so old.
24. For some reason, when I got your first letter, I got this idea that you
    lived in somewhere like Brentwood. Do you?
25. I'm dying for the smallest glimpse of your face.
26. My heart has a tendency to race wildly, almost to the point of really
    scaring me, when I get a little nervous. An acupuncturist suggested
    one time that I may have an anxiety disorder. I like to think I'm just
    running at a faster clock speed.
27. Will it be possible for us to sit and talk longer than 15 minutes when we

Playing the beaver


Scrim Shagnsty: Private Dick
     Granny's Last Hurrah
It was a hot summer evening and the humidity made you feel like you were
swimming in warm mucus. The heat was slowly driving everyone in Smutsberg crazy.
I knew something was about to blow, but I didn't know what. I hadn't had a good
case in a month and a half and I was feeling bored, restless and horny.
Nothing's ever gotten me off like sticking my nose where it doesn't belong, but
lately things had been quiet. Too quiet. 

Suddenly the phone rang.


"Mr. Shagnasty? My name is Jane Smith. Listen, you've got to help me, it's my
grandma, I think she's in serious trouble!" She had a squeaky high-pitched voice
that sounded like two balloons being rubbed together and she sounded hysterical.
It looked like this could be just the kick I was looking for.

"Slow down there, sugar-tits. What kind of trouble are we talking about?"

"Well I'm not really sure. Every time I go to visit her she starts sobbing and
saying she's been doing something abominable, but she won't tell me what it is.
I think it has something to do with the creepy new doctor they have at her
nursing home."

"I'm sure I can help, but it's gonna cost you. Ten grand plus expenses."

"Done! Meet me at the Last Hurrah Retirement Home tomorrow at three. They're
having a topless octogenarian shuffleboard tournament and you can meet my
grandmother there."

I hung up the phone with a bulge in my pants. Action at last!


The next day at The Last Hurrah there were sweaty old ladies whooping it up at
the shuffleboard tournament. The geezers on the sidelines cheered them on with
bugged-out eyes and tongues wagging like cartoon werewolves in heat. The sight
of sagging udders swaying to and fro over the hot asphalt made my gorge rise but
somehow I couldn't take my eyes off them. Suddenly someone tapped me on the

"Mr. Shagnasty?" It was Jane Smith. At first glance I thought she had just been
beaten silly, but then I realised she was just wearing an excessive amount of
blush and blue eyeshadow. Her short reddish hair was chopped off at weird

"That's me." I said.

"I'd like you to meet my grandma." The old crone standing next to her smelled
like a tainted cheese and had a glazed look in her eyes.

"My pleasure, Granny."

"Mr. Shagnasty is here to help you Granny. Maybe you could answer a few
questions for him."

"Such a nice healthy boy, I'm sure you'll give her a good ride.
Box lunch for you this afternoon? Hmmmm? Box lunch? Heh heh heh." She made a wet
chewing sound and stuck her tongue out between her fingers.

"Granny! I'm sorry - she didn't used to say thing like this. I swear, she used
to be a typically sexually repressed, sweet old lady. Maybe we -" But she was
interrupted by an old man standing next to us who started coughing and hacking
and wheezing and then stumbled right into her. He turned and looked me right in
the eye with a vacant stare. His mouth was wide open with a thin trail of saliva
hanging out of it. He was wearing a stingy brim derby and he looked like Mr.
Mxlplx after a three-day crack binge.

"Huuuugghhkkk!" he said and then meandered off toward the shuffleboard players.
The winner was being carried away screaming by four hairy Neanderthals in white
smocks. "I WON! Ohhhhh! I'm gonna *get it*. I'm gonna get it *good*!" Something
about the way she said it made my skin crawl.

When I turned back to Granny Smith she was muttering "here kitty kitty kitty.
That's a good girl. Look at all that hair! You need the brush." I looked down,
but there was no cat in sight. Jane was looking at me helplessly.

"I think we'd better go. Granny doesn't seem to be in the mood to talk," she

"Come here little pussy-cat."

"Don't worry I'll come back later and see what I can dig up. We'll get this mess
straightened out, you just come across with the dough and leave the rest to me."

On our way out we walked past the building where they took the old bat who won
the tournament. I could hear her screaming from inside "YES! YES! BUTTER THAT
smelled fishy at the Last Hurrah. Something smelled like moldy cheddar, and it
wasn't just Granny Smith. 


Midnight at the Last Hurrah. I had torn my clothes, and even some of my flesh,
to shreds climbing the razor wire fence to get into the old folks home, so I had
to find something good to make it worthwhile. I wasn't disappointed.

I had spotted a light in one of the windows when I heard a screech that sounded
like it came from an owl with laryngitis. The smell of spoiled havarti came
wafting into my nostrils. I went to the window and peered in. Inside I saw a
sight that could gag a maggot.

It was Granny Smith, naked, writhing on her hands and knees and moaning. Behind
her was none other than Mr. Mxlplx, pumping away and swinging his derby around
like a rodeo cowboy yelling "YEEEEEHAA! Giddeup!!" There was a huge wooden cross
hanging on the wall and several old folks dressed as priests, rabbis and gurus
watching them solemnly. At the back of the room was a camera and floodlights
getting the whole scene on film. There was a guy sitting in the director's chair
with a megaphone and sunglasses.

"Uh! Uh! UUUUHH! Slam that hot eucalyptus stick into my steaming tugboat
charmer!" Granny squealed as Mr. Mxlplx kneaded the withered grey flesh of her
ass like dough. He threw his head back and let out a maniacal laugh. His eyes
were popped open wide and bloodshot. It didn't make any sense. This afternoon he
had been calm as a zombie, now he was sliding his ancient sausage in & out of
Granny like a piston and foaming at the mouth. What was the cross and the
religious costumes all about? What could've turned a "typically sexually
repressed sweet old lady" into the seething smut-mouthed volcano of libidinous
energy that was gyrating in front of me? "Steaming tugboat charmer"? What the
fuck was that supposed to mean? How did it all add up?

I should've been nauseated by the sight of the two senior citizens bumping
uglies like rabid bunnies, but to my horror, I realised I'd  developed a raging
hard-on. "That does it," I thought to myself. "Until now this was just business,
but now . . . now it's *personal*."


The next day I decided to pay Granny a little visit. When I got to her cubicle
at the Last Hurrah she was sitting on the bed staring at a plate with toast and
a couple of cubes of butter on it. The room reeked like rancid provolone. 

"Hello Granny. Listen, I need some answers and I'm not leaving here until I get
them. What the hell is going on around here?" She continued to stare at her
toast as if she hadn't heard me. "I can't help you unless you cooperate with me,
now are you going to talk or am I gonna have to beat it out of you?"

Suddenly she snapped to attention, eyes darting back and forth around the room.
"GET THAT CAT OUT OF HERE!!" she shrieked. "Someone's trying to kill me!!
There's a cat hair in my butter!! I could choke on that!!"

I couldn't take anymore, I grabbed her by the shoulders and shook her. "Snap out
of it!" I slapped her in the face, hard. Her eyes lit up and she flashed me a
seductive grin that actually turned me on. Her senile fog seemed to lift for a
second and she leaned and whispered in my ear.

"It's Dr. Schlobbenzenobben. He shoots us up with some kind of drug. He's
filming a series based on the New Testament. Go to Gazebo 13, that's where he
keeps the ... the ..." She passed out in my arms.


That night I went back to find out what was in Gazebo 13. I'd pilfered a map of
the facility earlier that day and brought my lock picking kit and a pair of
brass knuckles. When I got to the gazebo I whipped out my pick and stuck it into
the keyhole. Just the tip at first, I needed to feel around to find out just
what kind of lock I was dealing with. Then I slid it all the way in, until it
bumped up against the special spot. I tried to jiggle it loose, but it wouldn't
come. I used the rotational method, gently coaxing the latch. I swiveled my pick
up & down, back & forth slowly, then picking up speed I started working the
inner mechanism open. I could feel it beginning to give ... almost .. almosssst
.. Click! The door creaked loudly as it opened to let me in.

Inside the gazebo was a desk cluttered with half-eaten fast food, overflowing
ashtrays and crumpled potato chip bags. On the wall hung a black velvet painting
of Adolf Hitler, hog-tied, with a ball-gag in his mouth, being given the lash by
a cross-eyed nun with fangs and a wooden leg. I rummaged through the drawers in
the desk until I found two vials of milky-white liquid and a box of fresh
hypodermic needles. In the bottom drawer was an almost empty jar of Vicks
Vapo-Rub and a stack of video tapes.

The titles read like a choir boy's guilty wet dream. "Jesus Does Nazareth",
Jesus Does the Magdalene Sisters with special Old Testament feature : The
Burning Bush", "Semen on the Mount", Eat My Flesh", "Jesus Gets Nailed",
Salvation, Lickity-Split!", "Missionary Position." I scooped the contents of the
drawer into my sack. As an afterthought I grabbed one of the vials and the box
of needles, and then sped home to perform a little experiment.

I had decided the best way to get a grip on this situation was to dive right in
and view these tapes under the influence of whatever potion the doctor had been
prescribing to his fogies. So I pulled the bag of hot buttered popcorn out of
the microwave and slipped "The Immaculate Erection" into my VCR. 

While the credits were rolling I loaded up a spike full of juice and poked it
into my arm. I had wasted half the shot before realising I'd missed the vein. My
arm started developing a big purple welt. "OW! Fuck! God dammit!" I thought out
loud. "Looks like I'll be wearing long sleeves for the next week or so." I sat
on the floor with blood dripping down my arm for a good half hour trying to get
it right. By the time I hit the vein properly a wrinkly virgin Mary had been
"visited" by three separate well-hung angels and was now rubbing her legs
together like a cricket in anticipation of her union with God.

There was something too bizarre to be erotic about the sight of the Virgin Mary
as a gnarled shrew being pounded like a nail by the Divine Hammer of a God that
looked like he'd been in the bathtub way too long. It seemed almost funny until
the drug kicked in. The first thing I noticed was the trail of slobber that was
running down the front of my shirt, then my cock started to throb and I was
clutching at myself uncontrollably, trying to get my pants of before John Thomas
ripped right through them.

I'm pretty sure I watched all the movies, but I don't remember anything too
clearly after the first rush. All I know is that I came back into my right mind,
three days later, to a room splattered with blood, jizz and saliva. Little Jimmy
had been rubbed scabby and raw, and the jar of Vicks Vapo-Rub was lying on the
floor, broken and empty.


After cleaning up my apartment a little bit, I telephoned Granny Smith. She said
no one had noticed the tapes missing and agreed to meet me at Gazebo 13 at
eleven o'clock that night. When I got there the door was unlocked. There was a
light on inside, but no one seemed to be there.

"Mista Shagnasty, we meet at last." I whirled around to see a doctor with little
wire rim glasses, standing with five big goons in smocks. He had a German accent
and he seemed to pant between syllables like Jack Palance. His face was coated
with a thin layer of sweat.

"And you are...?"

"Dr. Schlobbenzenobben at your service. Mrs. Smith has told me you've been
prying into areas zat are . . . most private. Ve have a very discreet operation
here and you espionage activities are . . . most unvelcome Mista Shagnasty."

Busted. Dammit! Granny Smith set me up. I'd been played like a rusty Sousaphone
by a woman who smelled like furry muenster. "You're one sick puppy
Schlobbenzenobben. I'm taking you and your whole sleazy operation down."

"On ze contrary, Mista Shagnasty, it is *you *who are due for a *check up*. Ve
have ways of dealing vis peeping Toms heh he hehh. Yes, I think perhaps ze
*steamroller*is in order for zis case."

"Steamroller?" I asked weakly.

"Ze *steamroller*is our gargantuan rectal thermometer we keep in ze basement for
special occasions. With enough friction ve can drive ze mercury up to fever
temperatures. I vill have ze personal care attendants fit you vis some
galoshes." He shot me a knowing smirk. 

"Sings can get very sloppy ven ze steamroller* is involved."

One of the PCAs walked toward me and - BONK! The lights went out.


When I awoke I was dressed in torn fishnets, galoshes and a garter. I was
strapped to an examination table with my legs up in the stirrups. Dr.
Schlobbenzenobben was standing in front of me with a thermometer the size of a
fat kielbasa sausage. Behind him there were clamps and tools and surgical
instruments of all kinds hanging on the wall. I knew it was going to be a long

"Und now, Mista Shagnasty, it's time for your examination. Now . . . ve vill
find out exactly vat ze problem is," he said with a malicious grin. Just as he
was walking toward me, I caught that old familiar stench of mildewed feta.

"WAIT! He's MINE!" Granny had come charging into the room like a rhino in heat,
naked and wild-eyed. "Remember our deal Doctor. I've got dibs."

"But I was just about to . . . Perhaps ve should first take his temperature vis
ze *steamr-* ..."

"Forget it Schlobbenzenobben. I don't want him all worn out. I'm not going for
sloppy seconds this time."

The thing I like to think of as my shlong had shrunken into what could only be
called a dink at the sight of Granny's scraggly gray bush. "You're not getting
any action out of me tonight sizzle-chest, I'm limper than used lettuce."

"Well, the personal care attendants know how to fix that," she said. "Sic 'im
boys!" They came at me with the needle.

Granny was obviously  hopped up on the special sauce herself and now it looked
like it was my turn. By the time they'd gotten me unstrapped I was starting to
think Granny didn't actually look that bad. In fact, the sight of her snarling
and slobbering like a beast was the most erotic thing I'd ever seen in my life!
I had to have her right then and there and I didn't care who knew it!

"Come here and bury that thing between my legs big boy. This old sponge-cake
needs some cream-filling.. I brought the Vicks Vapo-rub so we can watch it
*steam*." Before I could even get to her, Granny had pounced on me like a hungry
lion. We tore the whole room apart, fucking like animals. On the examination
table, up against the wall, tumbling end-over-end on the floor. I was crazed
with lust. Granny was biting me, digging her nails into my back. I don't know
how long we went at it. I had her legs thrown up over my shoulders as she
screeched and howled "Fuck me! Fuck me hard!" She squealed like a naughty little
piglet as I pounded my throbbing passion rod up into her. Her moans reached
higher and higher pitches until finally her eyes rolled back into her head and
she hit a perfect ringing high 'C'. The windows were all shattering as my brain
melted in a white-hot orgasm like I'd *never*felt before.

I lay on top of Granny, panting for a few minutes before I realized that she
wasn't moving at all. Her formerly hot skin was cold and clammy. I looked down
at her face. Her mouth was wide open, eyes still rolled back into her head. I
checked her pulse. She was dead. Stone dead.

I had thought Granny Smith was a good apple, but this apple had a worm in it. A
fat pink worm that was slithering deeper and deeper into her, driving her to
perform obscenities that would curl the hair of any normal sexual deviant, but
it didn't matter now. It was all over. It must've been a cardiac arrest.

I yanked my tallywhacker out of the vice grip that Granny's dead snatch had
become. I figured I'd better go find a smock and rush home for a shower. I
didn't want to face the next day smelling like last month's limburger. As I
opened the door to leave I came face to face with the nefarious Doctor

"Time to make a deal, yes Mista Shagnasty?"


Friday night at the West Smutsburg Video Pharmacy. "Is it in yet?" I asked the
porky balding man at the counter.

"No, it got checked out again yesterday, but we're closing in half an hour so it
should be in soon. He'll probably show up. That guy's usually a late night

"Alright. I'll just wait outside."

I had agreed to stay quiet about the whole affair if Schlobbenzenobben would
dispose of Granny's body discreetly. He said he already had 'special plans' for
the corpse. Jane Smith didn't want to pay me the fee after she found out her
Grandma was dead. I told her I'd see her in court if she didn't, which was a
lie, but she fell for it and coughed up the bread. She never found out Granny
had been fucked to death by yours truly.

Now I was here to get the last video in the series. It would be my only chance
to see Granny  in action again. Time was ticking by slower than an octogenarian
bowel movement. The heat had finally broken and it was raining, but the world
still seemed like it was going insane. The case was over, the world had turned
upside-down, and here I was standing in the rain, smoking a cigarette, and
waiting for "The Second Cumming."

Brushing the beaver 


Amateur Extravaganza #21 Odyssey Group. Four hours.  

This one is quite good. It's actually pretty cleverly arranged; almost using
segments of pure action as textural elements to create an overall kind of
'story' that isn't really part of the project as a whole. 

Let me explain: The whole thing starts off with about thirty 'facials' performed
by a woman on an almost endless series of men. Actually it's probably only a
handful of men over and over again. Imagine about 30 cumshots within the first
40 minutes! What an intro! 

Over and over, all we see is the work she does. And cocks, cumming by her hand
each time. Wait maybe this is a jerk-off extravaganza? 

Just when you can't take this anymore, when you've been fidgeting for about
fifteen minutes wondering if this is some bizarre existential thing that is
actually four hours of the same woman and guys and cumshots and nothing else...
Another 'scene' starts. So you relax: "OK. It's not what I feared... Hey how
long is this woman going to lick her lips at the camera?" 

This scene is where I really started to think that this whole production was
fascinating, because the Woman is at the center of the whole thing! The *woman*
is the protagonist. The previous scene was really all about this woman, and the
guys are just part of the surroundings.  

So anyway: here's this new woman. And it turns out she's with two guys. And once
again the only one with a personality or a motive or any kind of drama is the
*woman*. The men are props. 

OK. I know this is weird. Normal feminist ideas about porn revolve around the
'male gaze' and stuff, and criticize how the woman is turned into some kind of
object/receptacle for the male gaze/desire/seed.

Whatever! I think there certainly is alot of that going on here, but *way* less
than in 'professional' stuff. I don't know, can't say anything beyond
stereotypes and preconceived ideas here. We all know that's how Penthouse's
airbrushed passive fantasies work. 

But this amateur thing (*this* one in particular) is a whole lot different.
These are real* people here. At least the women are. The men - well they are
pretty dang boring. Oh yeah sure! I *would* say that, I'm a boy too, so I just
substitute myself in for them, and so according to the algebra of porn, they
have to be very bland so it's easier for me to fill in... Right? isn't that how
it's supposed to work? 

OK but I'm gonna argue that one. See, these people are performing, and thereby,
they are acting and (beyond a few ground rules like "always cum where the camera
can see it") they are in control of the show. The guys, well, OK they are in
control of their dicks; they almost universally take over the jerkin when it
gets down to cummin time. But that's about it.

The three performers keep on and on until the woman is in a complete frenzy. The
guys just turn up in the appropriate place, sometimes even at the right time,
and she totally uses them as parts of her wild thang. 

At one point she can hardly manage to breathe, and she is sticking two of her
fingers in her mouth. Offscreen Voice says "It's OK. You can scream." But
Offscreen Voice is totally clueless. She says "No. It just makes me really
excited to have something in my mouth." She has escaped being directed, because
she is *real* and slippery, and unpredictable. Here the woman is running the
show, because only she knows what's going on. The guys, the camera, the room,
the noise of the firetruck going by... these are just little bits of fluff, and
her world is inside her, and she lets us see the outside effects of what is
going on in her world. She uses the guys and the camera to drive herself
outtasite. She is in control.  

Things get pretty dark and intense in this scene, mostly because she goes so far
and the guys are not even there when they are pulling their dicks to make the
obligatory cumshots (who needs *that* in this scene?). And this isn't even
halfway into the tape yet. This is the first climax of the film (not the first
orgasm, of course). Kinda like the first orgasm in an allnight fuck fest. It's
all fast and furious, and then it crashes out, and then begins again slowly and
deliberately building and now really working on it.  The editing of this tape
really builds a structure of material into something coherent. I don't' have any
idea if it's luck or skill. It works. 

So now that it's time for things to start over with some 'working it,' what we
have is a woman who is at least fifty years old going solo. So first she dances
to this drippy porno synth music. For like five minutes. She dances and she
doesn't even strip. She's dancing cuz she likes dancing. When she does strip
it's pretty  awkward because her jacket's shoulder pads are getting in the way
of a really elegant strip thing. But that's not even the point. The point is:
she gets *off* on this. 

It's not even part of the deal for her to strip. But she has to get her clothes
off, right? 

So now the music's gone and she's masturbating. She's just doing what she always
does. So there again you have it: she is the protagonist. I think what I like
best about amateur porno is there is no director messing around to make stuff
perfect and unreal, and objectified by one set of almighty rules. 

Each of these performers goes by her own rules. That's my whole point here.
That's why it works. That's why it gets a little boring sometimes, and really
awkward sometimes ("Hi. My name is Christine, this is my husband Dave, this is
my friend Paul. This is my first time trying double penetration, so I hope
you'll bear with me.") and even stupid and ugly and humiliating sometimes. It's
real life stuff, and it goes on too long and you want to turn it off... but you

I forgot to write about a whole bunch of scenes in this one: like the one with
Lonnie who calls up five hesher dudes one by one, and they all come to her place
at the same time (surprise!) and none of them interacts at all, and they are so
uncomfortable being around each other they can't keep their boners. Come on
guys, didn't it make you *super* *horny having all this sucking and fucking
around you? Didn't you want to reach over and suck your neighbor's dick? Aren't
you getting bored waiting around for Lonnie? Get together! You know you are
better cocksuckers than fuckin' five Lonnies! So pathetic to see how
disappointing and narrow and scared men can be! 

But it's worth checking out some amateur compilations for that "real live"
feeling you just can't find anywhere else. The "Amateur Extravaganza" series
even goes up to like #40 so there's lots to pick from. If they all are edited
the same way as #21 was, Wow! 

Venom #4, Vidco, Directed by Henri Something-or-other, Less than two hours

Here the premise is a little bit like "Amateur Extravaganza; real live sex, no
story. But here instead of using horny nobodies ('real live people') the
director (who is an Industry Guy) gathers a group of Stars and hooks up some
really nice camcorders, and *way* too much lighting, and sort of lets them play
around with their skillful talented bodies, and not so talented camera work. So
here the cameras are actually part of the setup. This is kind of a documentary
which deals with the questions "what are Porn Stars?" and "what if you gave Porn
Stars two really nice camcorders..." You get it. 

This had some nice parts to it. The first setup is 'about' some pretty young
Porn Stars, kind of a generation-x group of Porn Stars, maybe. I liked that:
seeing people I could sort of identify with in some vague way ("Hey! All the
biggest jerks from high school ended up being Porn Stars! Hahahaha Heeheehee. Am
I jealous of them?") 

Also it's kinda nice about them being professionals, because they are sensitive
to really demonstrating some fairly explicit activity. They know the positions
that get the best angles for the camera. Because they are Expert Porn Stars, the
viewer gets alot better point of view of the whole thing. 

And it's also nice that, once again the directorial point of view doesn't
intrude very much on the action. Henry (say: ON-ree. silly!) is there for the
whole thing, working one of the cameras sometimes, and making some guiding
remarks. But what's more important is watching these people at work. They do
their jobs well, and it's interesting to see them as workers who also happen to
be real people with pets, and blemishes on their butts.

But this is also a problem ultimately. Even though there are some real noisy
orgasms here, and some little bloopers to remind us that this is 'real sex'
happening here (one woman can't take big Mr. Marcus in the ass very well, for
example) *these* people are *at work*, not 'working it'. So their 'excitement'
has a quality of boredom to it. It's like any other two hour video of people at
work: not all that exciting unless you are really interested what it's like
doing that kind of job. 

So the details of the working conditions are really what come out as the most
interesting (I can't say "exciting") parts.  

By seeing the cameras at work too, instead of hidden by an editor, you get a
better understanding of how some of the more polished big budget videos are
made. Sometimes the actors have the camera holding it between their shoulder and
chin to get a really tight shot on a blow job, and sometimes the camera is just
in the way and they can't do anything. 

Sometimes a really cool position just doesn't work right at that moment, and the
actors make some changes, or take a break, until it works. Sometimes breast
implants, when they are really moving alot, look like a plastic bag full of
saline. Some times it takes a really long time and lots of masturbation to get a
cumshot or a really hard dick, and then it might not be as good as the director
wants. In "Venom" all these things are left in the video; in something more
polished they would be edited out and redone until they work just right
according to the director's (and the 'porn ideal') vision. 

So "Venom #4" sort of fits half way between the amateur compilation and the big
production. It doesn't really work too well.  

There are lots of potentially very nice bits, but my expectation was to see them
really polished and perfectly lit and in slow motion. I think my expectations
were really kind of mixed up for (or by?) this video. I knew these were
professionals, so I wanted to see really objectified prettied-up porn. I wanted
it all to be perfectly pieced together from way way more footage than I saw
here, to get the absolute best angles, and lighting, and shiny wet organs, and
huge cumshots.  

But I also expected it to have that raggedy quality of real life that the
amateur video had. Because it was billed as like "let these experts get down and
dirty in real life while holding cameras no less!!"

What I didn't expect, and what really was the only good thing about this video,
was for this to be like a documentary behind-the-scenes thing. That's not really
enough for a big recommendation. 

So this makes an interesting point about porn: alot of the response to it is
based on your expectations about what it will be. I didn't understand that about
myself before watching these two videos in the same night. I either want it to
be very real and uncomfortable, like sex really is; or I want it to be so well
done and prettied up that it's like a Disney fantasy. I'm not sure which is more
effective at getting me off... But, just as I already knew before watching
"Venom #4", I really think documentaries are pretty boring, and that doesn't get
me off. 

                something that has always turned me on: the way someone tastes
                that you've never tasted before

A big date with Rosy Palms 

A problem for some men is that they try to masturbate quickly. This is possibly
the result of a lack of privacy as a teenager and the need to ejaculate as
quickly as possible in order not to get caught. By taking more time, slowing
down  or stopping stimulation, men can sometimes experience more intense

Makin' waves for the man-in-the-boat 


I had a dream about you last night. 

You were outside our house waiting or watching or something.
I came out to see you. You had a penis, and it was hanging out of your pants.

It was soft with very short soft pubic hair.

I took it into my mouth and began to give you head.

Surfin' the channel 


*1.* tie yourself up, immobilize your body in such a way that touching yourself
is extremely uncomfortable or inconvenient.

*2.* make sure you are able to get untied.

*3.* masturbate like your hot-spot is another sexual organ:  
     *boys*: rub the very intense spot of your cock with your middle finger in
             fast little circles, like it is a clit.  It helps to immobilize the
             rest of your cock (the shaft I mean) in some manner. Tight
             panties or a girdle which only allow the very topmost part of
             the corona showing work very well. try to empathise with
             girls by inserting something in your body and thrusting

     *girls*: grab your clit around the shaft and pull up and down
              vigorously, jerking yourself off like a boy's cock. this
              works best with only two fingers unless you are very well
              endowed. try not to insert any objects in yourself unless
              you like butt-sex. boys can't do insertion like you can!

*4.* *no hands:* do your best to achieve orgasm without using your hands. some
helpful hints: rub yourself against something soft and firm, or against
something hard and cold, or against something rough and scratchy. experiment!
movement of the large pelvic muscle complexes is very helpful, so if you need an
edge, Hump!

*5.* imagine really nasty perverted things. and then set yourself up to do them.
create your own XXX animated classics in your head. start with creatures whose
entire bodies consist of sexual organs and shit-holes... take it from there and
see what happens!

*6.* electricity at the right voltage will give you wonderful tingly sensations.
there are commercial products available for this use, so consider buying some
kind of electro-device to shock yourself all over. I don't recommend
experimenting with your own home wiring system.

*7.* create the sensation of pain on various parts of your body. see how long
you can remain in this state before getting off. try things like clamps or
clips, very hot or very cold objects, stretching fragile tissues to their
limits, heavy weights, striking yourself with your hands or other flat-surfaced
objects, tying yourself up (*see #1*).

*8.* make a date with yourself, and then see how long you can go around touching
yourself without coming. keep bringing yourself to the edge, then get a relaxing
glass of cold milk, and stay aroused the whole time, and get back to it in a few
minutes. Try for three or four hour sessions eventually.

*9.* put on some really loud evil rock-n-roll music and wank as fast as

*10.* always taste your own fluids. you are having sex with yourself, and you
wouldn't respect someone who wasn't keen enough about you to eat you, right? so,
eat yourself too!

*11.* fear is very erotic. masturbate right when you know you are most likely to
get caught by your roommate or your parent or your jealous lover. masturbate
during work, at your desk. masturbate on the bus, or in a taxi, or in the
elevator, or in the line at the bank.

*12.* masturbate with a bunch of friends. start a jack-n-jill circle at a party,
or just arrange a party with that as the 'main event.' Make erotic masturbation
together a normal part of as many friendships as you can.

*13.* masturbate with all your clothes on, through your clothes. pocket pool!
make sure you are not touching your genital flesh directly (*see #1 and #11*).
also dress in special erotic costumes just for this type of masturbation.
contact your local dry cleaners for stain removal tips, or just suck the fluids
out after you finish (*see #10*).

*14.* make sure to watch pornographic videotapes frequently, and wait until it
hurts so much to watch that you simply HAVE to get off right away. start with
two-hour videos, working your way up to the 4-hour extravaganza compilation
tapes. then time it just right that you come at exactly the same time as your
favorite professional on the screen. Or! explode during a really boring dialog
part just to keep the ball rolling.

*15.* fill as many of your orifices with something good and stiff as possible.
butt-plugs are essential tools, as are vibrators, dildoes, ball gags, fruit, and
baloons filled with warm water. trying to yell through a big stiff banana is
terrifically exciting!

*16.* make lots and lots of noise! try out all those phrases and growls and
grunts and screams you'd like to use with your partners. make yourself howl in a
sex-mad frenzy. don't be inhibited or embarassed, it's only you! (*see #11*).

Doing the Two Finger Slot Rumba 


anonymous poem sent in by unknown reader (i think it sounds best if you pretend
like you're Blondie singing Rapture when you read it.)

I know I won't get you out of my head
Until I see your legs spread wide, laying on my bed
All I can think about is getting a hand job
I have to have you 'cause you make my clit throb
Have you ever had a girl with a strap on
Fuck you like a dog in the middle of the night
Or keep you bound from dusk to dawn
Drowning in the pleasure of your inability to fight
May I be so bold as to be this blunt
I want to take your face and shove it in my cunt
I'm going to tease you and taunt you 'til you're dripping wet
Then I'll slam you and ram you 'til your drenched in sweat
I can see you clothed in leather
Tugging at the cuffs around your throat and wrists
And I'll tie you to the end of my tether
With nipple clamps so tight they make you writhe and twist
I hope you won't think me crass
As I make a fist and slam it up your ass...

Doing the janitor thing 

I think it's best when you make your move really fast. Kiss me within the first
hour, or just let me go. After that I'm all worried about getting rejected for
some reason, maybe you don't like me as a person after listening to me talk for
a while, or you see right through to my low self esteem or something. It just
makes things a whole lot more fun, and exciting if right off the bat I know this
whole fuckin' "date" thing isn't just going to meander on and on for weeks until
we don't even have anything to say on the phone anymore.

Playing The Silent Trombone 

I want to feel his shaved head move up and down my naked body.  When his hair is
grown out and rough like a beard , I want to feel him scratch my thighs, my
breasts, like a delicate kiss of sandpaper. - Isak

what turns me on lately: wet hair

	Electro-Web-A-Tronic Hypersmut 
        by Quacky

Quacky lost his email provider. Waaaaah! I'll get it back though. That's what I
get for relying on free email, right?
This time's gonna be a short column, cuz I got a lot of other stuff floating
around in here. I'm feeling a bit self-conscious...
Whatever. I'm reprinting some stuff on this page that I snagged from a site put
up by a "Mens movement" kinda zine from Australia called "XY". It's really nice,
and it fits in with the overall tone of this issue. Here's their URL and
publication disclaimer:    


Reprinted with permission from the magazine XY: men, sex, politics. PO Box 473,

**A supposedly definitive study of penis size in the US has concluded that the
average length of the erect penis is just 12.8cm, well short of the often quoted
"six inches".

**An extensive survey has found that while 35 percent of Australian women think
penis size matters, only 2 percent consider the penis to be their favourite male
feature. Perhaps we should care more for our eyes, lips, hair or toenails.

**Q: What's the difference between a pub and a clitoris?  A: Most men have no
     trouble finding a pub.
**Q: Why do women fake orgasms?  A: Because men fake foreplay.

**Standard sized condoms may be putting safe sex at risk because one size
definitely does not fit all says a Monash University doctoral student. Di
Tibbitts is researching the history of the condom in Australia and has found
that while condoms vary little in width, penises vary enormously and ill-fitting
condoms are more likely to come off or split. Apparently there has only ever
been one study of penis size. It compared different races and found little
difference in length but quite a variety in circumference.

No really that's it! I had to take out the whole rest of the "real" column to
fit into 28 pages. Look for me next time.

Tickling the taco 


songs that make me completely dry up if I hear them during lovemaking:

"Tainted Love", Soft Cell.
"Sex (I'm a...)", by Berlin .
"Do you really want to hurt me?*, Culture Club.
"Sex on Wheelz", My Life With the TKT.
"Jack and Diane", that John whats-his-name guy
Anything at all from Ministry's "With Sympathy"
"Done Too Soon", Neil Diamond .
"Please, Please,Please, Let Me Get What I Want", The Smiths.

... and on the other hand ... some that make me *go go go!*

"White Horse", Laid Back.
"Into the Groove", Madonna .
"Lovin You", Minnie Riperton.
"Shock the Monkey", Peter Gabriel.
"China Girl", David Bowie.
"I'm Not Lisa", Jessi Colter
Anything at all by Human League. 
Ministry's "Psalm 69" or "Land of Rape and Honey"
"Stand and Deliver", Adam Ant.

J&D's 9 types of intimacy
1. conversation
2. kissing
3. backrubs
4. masturbating together
5. sex
6. oral sex
7. anal sex
8. sex
9. BDSMsex

huge turnon: women in jeeps.
super turn-on: parallel parking in one move

More Turn ons!   (you should send us some of *yours*!) 
crooked teeth, big nose, or bad haircut... but not all on the same person
bartenders (not beertenders) 
hairy girls/shaven boys 
bubble-gum lip-gloss 
womens' size 12 patent leather pumps

"Why do the handcuffs hafta be so tight?
Why do the handcuffs hafta be so tight?
Why do the handcuffs hafta be so tight?"
- Built To Spill

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