Sinful Sunday 450 – WTF

(This week is unprecedented, as My photo is not entirely My photo. It is My photo, in as much as it was taken for Me and at My request, but as you will see, it most definitely is not a photo of Me.)

What the fuck?
Actually, what’s the fucking point?
Seriously! What is the point?

What’s the point of porn?

The simple answer is visual sexual stimulation. But whilst yhat explains the function of porn, it doesn’t really explain the point of porn.

Surely for most of us, most of the time, porn is just filling a hole (if you’ll pardon the pun) not otherwise filled. After all, who would rather be wanking while staring down an image of someone else fucking than stare up at the person they were actually fucking?

That is certainly true of this image. I would be far more visually stimulated by watching my Wife’s cunt rise and sink down on by a photo of someone else fingering their cunt.[1]

Not that I didn’t appreciate one of my Generous Readers taking a photo of herself fingering her cunt and sending it to Me.[2] And I most certainly did have a wank over it. [3]

We had fallen into conversation off-blog and, perhaps unsurprisingly, conversation turned to flirting turned to probing questions turned to exchange of fantasies turned to exchange of porno-selfies turned to my request for a Sinful Sunday submission landing in my inbox.

Later, as I showered off the sweat and cum, I wondered how I might justify the situation to my Wife. After all, I would be far more visually stimulated by watching my Her cunt rise and sink down on my cock than by a photo of someone else fingering their cunt. And I wouldn’t feel the need to wank over it.

Perhaps that’s just the same lame excuse trotted out by those whose partners uncover sexual infidelity – She wouldn’t have needed to fuck the photo-copier engineet in the stationary cupboard if her husband had been fulfilling his conjugal duties.

It’s not a justification to anyone who hears it, and me wanking over selfie-porn sent to Me by someone who has read my sex blog … well … I want to fuck … I want my Wife to fuck me … and I’m sure it’s not the excuse my Wife would want to hear, but if She isn’t going to fuck Me, at least I’m not fucking someone else.

And maybe that’s the point if porn.

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[1] The Fantastic Reader who is knuckle deep in her cunt in this image is well aware that I’d rather be fucking my Wife, and is fully supportive of that and …
[2] … and she has given her full consent for me to publish her photo …
[3] … and after the news that I had jerked off over her pictures, was sufficiently undeterred that she sent another, more explicit cunt-wank photo. So I’ll take that as approval.

Analogy

Over the last few months, since my Wife and I went on a marriage guidance retreat with Dr Ruth, the tension between us has not dissipated. There may be various reasons for that, but I’m not going to go through that here. My blog wasn’t really meant to be about Our marital difficulties – true, it started with the intent to reinvigorate our sex life, and for a while, so many years ago, that seemed plausible, but hope has diminished, and optimism has drifted into the distance. For all our emotional and sexual divisions we might as well live respectively on Mars and Venus.
My Wife seems not to want to consider sex unless We are on firmer emotional ground.
I struggle to find firmer emotional ground when there is no sex.
The circle snarls at those within it.

It’s not that simple, obviously! I don’t for a moment mean to suggest that

Sinful Sunday 448 – Poster boy

Anyone who grew up in the UK in the 80s undoubtedly had at least one Athena poster on their bedroom wall. Their art prints and posters were as ubiquitous as their subject matter, ranging from cute kittens and fast cars to art-deco seascapes and air-brush kisses. At least two of their posters have become genuine icons of the late 20th century.

Correction

[Ed: Here at Accidental Publications Inc, we like to think we have the highest of editing standards, and do our utmost to ensure we only bring you the most accurate filth, smut and porn anywhere in the sex-blog-o-sphere. However, as diligent as we try to be, even we can cock up on occasions. Perhaps distracted by having our cock up someone else, it seems we may have missed a heinous error on AM’s behalf in a recent post.

The error manifested itself in incorrect labelling of the female genitalia.

We would like to humbly apologise to anyone who was mislead as a result of this oversight, and we would direct you to study the graphic-info-graphic bellow for the correct identification.

Rest assured we will make no concessions in our efforts to discover who was responsible for the incorrectly published information, and they will be sent directly to the head of HR, Mistress Accident, for a thorough disciplining.]

That’s not your game face

Randomly watching night time TV, I caught an interview with Roisin Conaty, promoting her new TV comedy series, Game Face. She related a sexual encounter in which …

Inappropriate observations

Once a week, for around a month, I have spent a morning in a stereotypically mum environment. As the only full time dad, I stick out like a sore thumb [Ed: Though AM’s sore thumb probably doesn’t stick out quite as much as the full-time-dad-chip on his full-time-dad-shoulder.] and I was openly applauded the first time I turned up for putting myself in that situation as a full-time-dad … much as a full time mum would be openly applauded for enrolling on a brick layers course. [Ed: See? Told ya! Fucking big chip on His shoulder.]

As with many similar gatherings, there was no shortage

Lingerie Is For Everyone 39 – Call my bluff

Being of the generation who learned to use phones before they had buttons, I’m not always ahead of the curve when it comes to trends in social media. Only after much badgering from various friends and acquaintances did I finally sign up to Whatsapp a few months ago. I’m still not sure why it is supposed to be better than email etc, but you can either be on the inside, or on the outside.

Over night the following conversation