The New York Post: friend to legmen, foot lovers, and bathwater drinkers!!

Hope you’ve been enjoying your weekend. After a Friday of rain and wet snow, we here in NYC got a beautiful sunny and almost spring-like Saturday and Sunday. What a pleasure to walk around and check out the flea market with a friend…

I want to thank the readers in the U.S. and Germany who bought copies of Learning to be Cruel and Learning to be Cruel Part 2 over the last couple of days. Did you hear about them on my blog here, or did you find them via Twitter or elsewhere? I welcome your comments!

After almost 2 years this remains my top seller!

This sequel is one of the craziest stories of my twisted career!

You can leave them anonymously on this blog or in a review on Amazon! I hope you’re enjoying the adventures of my submissive hero Lester as he tangles with Miss Meirong, the cruel and inventive Chinese-American goddess of his dreams. As ever, you can find the books in the Kindle department of the Amazon stores in the U.S., UK, Japan, Germany, Italy, France, Spain, Canada, and Brazil. Just click to the right under the bookmark “My ebooks” to be taken to the U.S. Kindle store.

In other news, the terrific British artist Sardax has just published his own illustrated translation of Venus in Furs on Kindle, the great 19th century classic of femdom.

The narrator of Venus in Furs tends to his mistress at her bath…her whip nearby!

I urge you to check it out! Go to Amazon here to check out a sample of the book and read my full review.

Now one thing I enjoy doing is reporting to you readers all over the world about the kinky coverage that appears regularly in the New York Post. First last Thursday 3/1/13 we got an amazing leg shot of Selena Gomez, Justin Bieber’s ex-girlfriend…

Those are indeed impressive pins. Fill me with vim and vigor!

Then on the same day we got a story about that actress from Game of Thrones doing a nude scene on Broadway. I liked one of the theatergoers’ comments: “I would drink Emilia Clarke’s bathwater.” I frequently use that expression myself as a way of denoting my admiration of a lady’s charms…I wonder if I could actually ever do such a thing. Never say never, I guess…

I’ve never watched Game of Thrones but I know some people swear by it.

Finally today in the Post we got a story about a girl’s adventures serving up her feet at a foot fetish party. The photographer for the story got a very nice toe cleavage shot…

Nice toe cleavage on the right footsie…but nails should have been polished a color in small shot!!

You can read the full story here.

I knew a topless dancer from Europe here in NYC who was thinking of trying this as a way to make extra money. She had nice legs and feet, and I’d known her for about a year as a customer, and I said, “Hey, I’ll worship your feet.” She knew I liked femdom but she wasn’t very good at roleplaying; it wasn’t her thing, so she just generally gave me a pretty vanilla dance with no bossy mistress-like chatter. When it came to the foot parties, though, she seemed more inclined to the idea of letting total strangers do it instead, and it never happened between us. Maybe she thought I just wanted a freebie, but I would have been willing to pay her just like the guys at those foot parties. Except I would have felt more comfortable doing it with her in private, rather than as one of a line of gents glomming onto her heels and soles. No matter how much the feet are wiped off between “sessions” at a party, I wouldn’t be able to erase the images of the joes who’d been drooling on a girl’s toes right before me…

In any case, after that, I lost track of her until about a year later when I ran into her at a totally different club. I didn’t ask her about the foot fetish parties; I don’t know if she ever did them; and if she did, I wasn’t interested in what she did with her insteps with other people. I guess I was hurt that she didn’t want me to worship her legs and feet…that after visiting her in the club for so long, I wasn’t her go-to choice for a toe slave!  

 

The stories that please meet the legs that tease!

So tell me…are you drooling like I am?

What I mean is, how do you like this girl?

“A sweet disorder in the tress/Kindles in a legman a wantonness” (after R. Herrick)…

Nice, hmm? Her name is Katy Pearl, and she was photographed by Jana Krenova, proprietor of my newest freelance client, BestLegShow.com.

But we’ll get back to Katy and Jana in a moment…

If I don’t write as much you think I should on this blog, or as much as you might like to see me write, the main reason is money. As a freelance scribe of porn/erotica/whatever-you-wanna-call-it in a tight economy and with a greatly diminished number of sex magazines to contribute to, I have to spend most of my energy and time writing to pay my bills–and blogging doesn’t pay me anything. But if everybody who visited my blog daily bought just one of my ebooks, I could and would write here lots more! I would also do more ebooks. So try one of my Kindle ebooks and you will get lots more interesting blog posts, pictures, and femdom erotica!

You can buy my ebooks in the United States and India; the United Kingdom; France; Germany; Italy; Spain; Japan; Canada; and Brazil.

I write primarily for porn sites now, doing copy for photos and newsletters about the sites. My main client is French photographer Denys DeFrancesco and his DDF Productions, one of the biggest European porn studios. Visit them at the DDF Network to get an idea of all their amazing sites.

I also write, under pen names, stories for the college girl sex magazines! You would be surprised, but I am very good at writing from the point-of-view of eighteen year old girls, as well as from the angle of the guys who fall under their erotic spells. I think there is a part of me that is still stuck in late adolescence. Maybe I also should have been a girl, I dunno. At any rate, they are fun assignments but I can’t tell you what they are without giving away the fact that they are not written by horny young coeds! (Fun assignment: go through magazines devoted to sexy young women and see if you can pick out what stories I wrote on the basis of my style. Every writer’s style is distinctive, like fingerprints, even when he or she hides it under disguises like slang or structure or bylines or details about bras and barrettes. But don’t ask me to confirm your guesses–I’m loyal to my clients and would not reveal that the juicy young things who write some of their stories are actually one bald but otherwise hairy Jewish lad from Chicago with an Irish nom de porn.)

But let’s get back to Best Leg Show. Its owner and photographer, Jana Krenova, is a skillful, artistic, and leggy lens lady originally from the Czech Republic who lives in New York and Prague, and who shot many pictorials and covers for me when I was the editor of Leg World…

Jana has many fans who are as awestruck over her very impressive pins…

…as they are by her photography of the lovely Naomi on a picnic.

In fact, Jana photographed the girl on the picnic blanket for me for Leg World, and the project was inspired by my admiration for a pinup painting by Gil Elvgren:

I bet the ants were smiling at this picnic!

Now, starting on Friday 3/1/13–tomorrow–I am presenting an exciting archive of my stories each month on Best Leg Show. We’re starting off with “STARE AND ACHE!” a tease-and-denial story about a tough handsome executive who wants to be treated by a beautiful and voluptuous lady named Deborah exactly like the adulterous naughty bad boy he really is. Deborah makes him ache with her stocking feet and her dirty words and she tells him his penis doesn’t measure up to that of the coffee cart guy back in the office…it’s a goodie for fans of nylons, the foot fetish, and even has a little cuckold fantasy in the mix!

So go to BestLegShow.com and check out Jana’s blog section, and you’ll see a picture of me and read more about our upcoming plan for stories there. Check out her great lineup of photos and videos of all the beauties she’s captured with her cameras. And join her site–it’s very reasonable–and have fun! Let us know how you like “STARE AND ACHE!” by leaving a comment on the site, too! Or leave a comment on Twitter for Jana @BestLegShow or for me @irvoneil.

———–

I found the reproduction of the Elvgren pinup here. Photos of Katy Pearl and Naomi are © Jana Krenova and BestLegShow.com.

One thing I want to add: I don’t particularly enjoy hawking my wares like this, I’m actually kind of a reserved guy–the older I get, the more I admire Gary Cooper, let’s put it that way–and I don’t like to toot my own horn. I’m from the school of thought that it’s for others to toot the horn about me. But this is the new reality of writing for a living today, in a cyber-environment that makes books as numerous as grains of sand at the beach. You gotta speak out to be heard–for example, I’m going to be interviewed twice in the next few weeks about my porn career. Basically, to be read, to reach readers, unless you’re a super-duper brand name with the machinery of a vast publishing and distribution outfit behind you, you gotta promote yourself. Without that machinery, us scribblers gotta stand on a soapbox and wave our stuff around, trying to catch the eye of the customers. We’re not just scribes anymore, but pitchmen and pitchwomen. It’s the new world of creativity that the Internet has created.

 

Inside the male erotic mind with Dr. Brandy Engler!

Some men are promiscuous with women; I’m promiscuous with books. That doesn’t sound at all studly in comparison, but it is what it is at this point in my life.

I have more books than I’ll ever be able to finish, but that doesn’t mean I don’t keep buying them when I find bargains for the kinds of things I like, such as paperback noir fiction about femmes fatale or heists.

I think a fisheye lens captures some of the heady sensation of pleasure I get from these books!

I just found a paperback copy of The Asphalt Jungle, which became the 1950 movie which really launched Marilyn Monroe’s career, and I’m looking forward to reading this tale of a doomed heist after having seen the film several times–as well as its remakes like The Badlanders and Cool Breeze. Here is a great poster for that movie, which I found here.

In the movie, she keeps calling her middle-aged sugardaddy “Uncle Lon,” which annoys him quite a bit.

In recent weeks I’ve been reading books of sexual case histories, which I find interesting for several reasons. Firstly, I like to read about erotic behavior because it’s entertaining, full of surprises and the truly stubborn human element. Secondly, reading about other people’s behavior and feelings helps me understand my own. Thirdly, as a writer of erotica I want to always add to my knowledge of what people are into and why they’re into it. Fourthly, knowing about the details of people’s sex lives helps me to properly construct erotic fiction, as there is a certain rhythm to people’s sexual sagas which I try to authentically capture when I dream up my short stories, or the screenplays for porn films which I wrote for twenty years.

Recently I read, as I alluded to in my last post, The Men on My Couch, by Dr. Brandy Engler with David Rensin.

I was in a fisheye lens mood, I guess…the book is of normal shape in reality.

I’m re-reading it to savor its insights into why men act the way they do toward sex. Dr. Engler discusses a good number of case histories, such as a man obsessed with the fantasy of his fiancee cuckolding him. She traces the genesis of this fantasy to a trauma where the man’s earlier fiancee actually did cheat on him, and as an emotional defense he eroticized her behavior into a sexual scenario later in life. In another case history, (described as they all are through recreations of therapy sessions), Dr. Engler helps a man understand why he compulsively cheats on his beautiful girlfriend. In yet another, she helps a patient examine and come to terms with his desires to go to S&M clubs to dominate women, whereas in his daily life he is the one dominated by females on his job. Dr. Engler’s book depicts these men’s erotic lives while at the same time she shows how delving into their psyches helped her understand her own sexual and romantic feelings toward a boyfriend.

An interesting detail of the book is that Dr. Engler’s office was in Times Square and she also lived in the area. I lived in Times Square myself in the 1980s, and I live close by now, and her accurate descriptions of residing in the middle of the frenzied chaos of the neighborhood brought a smile of recognition to my face.

If there’s one thing that Dr. Engler uncovers in her sessions, it’s that underneath men’s sexual behavior is often the need to connect on an emotional level, despite the demeaning stereotype that men are only interested in “wham bam thank you ma’am” or, in the biological determinist view so popular now in our society, “spreading their seed” to as many women as possible. She returns dignity to the topic of male sexuality at a time when our male-bashing overly-politically-correct post-feminist culture seems to insist on men being nothing more than testosterone-driven mugs in comparison to women who are so wise and complex and far-reaching.

Women–especially younger ones more vulnerable to the prejudices of our simplistic media–ought to read this book; it’ll open their eyes as to what men really think about what is truly beautiful or sexy, and about how they want to be treated by their partners–and not just in the bedroom. And men can get a lot out of The Men on My Couch with its balanced, fair-minded, and warm-hearted delving into the patterns and pathways of men’s outwardly horny but inwardly complicated behavior.

Much of the insight Dr. Engler comes up with has long been the province of literature or earlier psychologists, but timeless truths can never be repeated too often. In today’s world, where men are supposed to be interested in football, sex, money, and little else, it’s particularly necessary for a female voice to describe the complexity of male sexual behavior to other women; but her book is aimed toward everybody as an introduction to the methods and usefulness of sex therapy (which doesn’t involve actual sex, but talking about and probing emotions). The Men on My Couch brings common sense psychological knowledge and a sense of compassion into a modern format for a modern audience. Her theme–that you must identify your core emotional needs to understand your behavior and what you really want–is important for everyone.

And now I’m onto my next book to read…

The fisheye strikes again!

The outwardly placid surface of the pamphlet is deceptive…it’s exciting reading! Fiedler writes that one of the first American novels to feature a Jewish character was entitled The Quaker City, was written in 1845 by George Lippard, a friend of Edgar Allan Poe, and takes place in a Gothic whorehouse in Philadelphia. Sounds right up my alley!

The new book is quite a ride!

 

Luscious vixen Gene Tierney at her teasing peak of perfection!

It has been a very stressful week and I found myself saying, “I must get away from the computer for a few hours.” I’d finished my work and I thought I would go see the movie Gangster Squad, which opened today in NYC and which I’ve been looking forward to; but when I walked down to 42nd Street it wasn’t playing where the papers said it was supposed to be. I ended up going to McDonalds instead and having what I call my “film noir” lunch–two hamburgers without ketchup, and a cup of coffee. As I ate, I made notes for a review I’m going to post here shortly about Dr. Brandy Engler’s book The Men On My Couch, which I mentioned in my last entry of 2012 (see “Sexology on Sunday” below). It’s a very interesting and rewarding book, but I didn’t take any notes while I read it; I just wanted to experience and absorb it without thinking about what I would write later. I usually (although not always) make notations in a volume as I read, but I decided instead I would instead go back and mark it up later as I thumbed through it again to write my review.

Meanwhile, I was just thinking about how mainstream art often carries a message of femdom fantasy below its “respectable” surfaces. I was musing on this while commenting at Femdomartists.com on a picture of the Biblical heroine Judith with the head of the Assyrian general Holofernes, whom she beheaded. You can see the picture and my comment here.

The other night I watched an early Gene Tierney movie, Belle Starr, where she played a highly romanticized and glamorized version of the infamous Old West outlaw. There was a scene where outlaw Randolph Scott “teaches” Belle to shoot. The imagery was pure female supremacy, as the beautiful Tierney (who in no way resembled the actual Belle Starr) gets to say things like, as she’s shooting at a leaf– “You want me to put a hole in it? Or do you want me to cut it off?” I wouldn’t be surprised if the femdom aficionados of 1941 returned to the theaters several times to see this sequence as fuel for masturbation fantasies. Here are a few screen caps:

Gene’s utter nubile lusciousness is thinly disguised pornography…

When Gene takes aim at a leaf, it’s a thrilling erotic moment to rival Jennifer Lawrence drawing back on her bow and arrow in The Hunger Games…

“You want me to put a hole in it?”

“…or should I cut it off?”

 

Goodbye, leaf!

To say that Gene Tierney is luscious in this movie is a shameless understatement. Using a Southern accent that was apparently way over-the-top, and entrancing Randolph Scott and Dana Andrews with all the wiles of the Civil War-era steel magnolia plantation belle stereotype, her performance can be understood in 2012 as a masterpiece of eroticism. Rarely seen, not on DVD, the movie was recently shown on TCM; but if you can get past its racial cliches about the post-Civil War era, you will find Miss Tierney at her most enticing, perhaps even more so than she was in Laura or Leave Her to Heaven.

I know I’m overusing the word “luscious”…but I can’t help it!

 

Sexology on Sunday…

Another year draws to a close. Not the best year, that’s for sure. A rough year in work and sometimes in emotions. But I have been gratified how people all over the world look at this blog on a daily basis. Today it’s been viewed everywhere from the United States to France, Brazil to Korea, from Austria to Canada to India to Sweden to Argentina…

So I sit down to post with a glass of Jameson at my side. My drink is Irish, my pen name is Irish, but my cock is Jewish. L’chaim! 

I got ahead in my weekly writing for DDF Productions so I could relax over this second holiday weekend in a row, but I ended up spending time on the computer anyway. I’m like a Siamese twin with my laptop, oh well. (Check out DDF’s blog here, it uses much of the XXX adult website copy I write for them and has links to my newsletters.) But I did get out to the flea market where I found a very interesting vintage paperback version of a sexology book first published in 1924, Sex and Life by W.F. Robie, M.D.

The book’s typeface looks like that of the original 1924 edition.

The inside of this 1965 paperback looks like a facsimile of the original edition, with illustrations by Gustave Doré of Adam and Eve in the Garden of Eden, from his illustrations for John Milton’s Paradise Lost…

Strikes me that Dore is the perfect illustrator for sexology books wherein men and women wander in search of erotic knowledge.

I started paging through it last night and found myself absorbed in a case history which was presented in the form of a “sexual autobiography” by one of the doctor’s correspondents. It details the story of a man born in 1888, and how by 1917 his sexual life was lived in erotic fantasy, with him occasionally masturbating about women he was infatuated with, but how he never found a female companion to love and have actual sex with. What made him unusual was how he claimed to only masturbate about women with whom he was frustrated in love and could not ever get involved with. He didn’t find pictures or burlesque shows or vaudeville stimulating–only the mental images of the women he wanted but couldn’t have. It wasn’t like they were “teasing” him and then “denying” him in the modern sense of that fetish–one girl in particular simply had no interest in being his sweetheart.

Of course he didn’t use the word “masturbation” so freely, but mixed it up post-Victorian style with terms like “auto-erotism” and “erotic reveries” and referred to his moods of “voluptuousness.”

I’m now reading a section of letters between the doctor and a female correspondent from around 1919, wherein she asks him first about a “friend” who had syphilis, and then later confesses that she was the victim of the disease, and that she was only too ashamed to admit it in her first letters. This section really brings to life the terror that people lived in vis a vis venereal disease back in those pre-penicillin days, and also reminds me of the helpless terror of AIDS that swept society in the late 1980s.

Ironically, when I opened the New York Post today, there was an article about a new book called The Men on My Couch by a contemporary psychologist, Dr. Brandy Engler, who deals a lot with the problem of guys in the Big Apple today. You can find the article here.

I wonder what it would be like to go to a pretty shrink…wait, I wrote an ebook about that called Mommy’s Little Dunce! Although the shrink in my story was not a PhD. but a dominatrix/quack.

People’s lack of psychosexual insight and information always leads them into sticky waters (pun not intended, but let it stand). Today we understand that masturbation doesn’t cause blindness or hair on your palms, and of course syphilis can now be cured (with penicillin starting in 1947), but we have other sexual problems in our modern world which Dr. Engler’s patients deal with and which she writes about in her book. Check out the link to the article above, and you’ll see what I mean. So even though the dilemmas are different over the span of 125 years, from 1888 to almost 2013, the search for answers and the relief of erotic anxiety continues.

One reason I enjoy reading psychology and case histories is that it’s both illuminating and sometimes inspires me in the erotic fiction I write. Between Dr. Robie’s book and the Post article, an interesting theme has emerged in my mind from reading about the problems of men and women around World War One and the Age of the Fiscal Cliff, and I hope to explore it in some new stories. But I don’t want to say what this theme is until I actually see if I can work it into stories. I am a big fan of the theory that if you talk about your writing, it just remains talk. First write, then talk–that’s more my style.

Even one of the Dore illustrations from the Robie book, of Adam watching Eve sleep, could spur a tale…

These illustrations were probably very titillating back in their day, the mid-1800s.

Check out the Wikipedia page on Gustave Doré, there is some cool stuff there. Also check out Dark Classics, a cool art site where I found the Adam and Eve pictures.

And please check out my Amazon page here and enjoy the free samples of my femdom erotica, like the aforementioned Mommy’s Little Dunce (about a guilty fortyish porn writer who gets spanked for his literary sins), She Made a Cuckold on Black Friday (about a holiday shopping trip one man would never forget) or my latest, Learning to Be Cruel Part 2, which is subtitled “Punishment by the Book” and has my submissive hero teased and disciplined in a huge bookstore! If you like the free samples, please try the complete stories for only $2.99 each, which can be read on Kindles or even on your computers and mobile devices with the apps.

This is one of my best stories–very kinky yet very funny.

My fascination for Asian girls bubbles over in this one! I write from the groin as well as my brain.

This is the epic sequel to my top-selling ebook Learning to be Cruel. An exciting Asian dominatrix returns to rule the narrative!!

So that’s what’s been on my mind these last couple of days. I hope 2013 will be better than 2012 in many ways! I hope you have a Happy New Year, and thanks for reading.

 

Let’s “time travel” back to the hornier 1950s Times Square!

I did a little time traveling last Friday night. Yes, it’s possible if you have the right tools.

The first tool was a mystery novel written in 1951 (the year I was born), and which I found in this 1956 Dell paperback edition at the flea market a couple of weeks ago. By Friday I was well into it, and since it takes place in a seedy hotel in Times Square, I thought it might be fun to go to Times Square and get a cup of coffee somewhere and finish reading it while surrounded by the ghosts of bygone Broadway.

Without this cover, I doubt I would have bought the book.

The cover painting, by William Rose, perfectly captures the ambiance of the novel, which contains a shady lady who’s up to no good in a sleazy hostelry somewhere between 6th Avenue and Broadway, maybe on 47th Street–which I know from my NYC history was noted for its number of dive hotels. Here’s the 1970s version of the same book, from a different publisher–compare them:

Nicely done cover, but the 70s feeling is totally anachronistic to the 50s story.

Although the latter cover is well executed, and actually includes a clever plot element (the dog), it is totally out of sync with the 1950s aura of the tale. I doubt I would have bought the book with this second cover.

Anyway…for info about where you can find the 1956 Dell version or the 1971 Paperback Library edition, go to the cool site Fantastic Fiction here. (I made a cover scan of my own copy of the book, but the Fantastic Fiction one looks better so I borrowed it.)

Where was I? Oh yes, time traveling. Well, I went to Times Square and I thought I’d have my coffee at the McDonald’s at 46th Street and Broadway, one of the few semi-seedy places still there. This McDonald’s just can’t help but retain some aura of existential angst, literally being situated right smack in the center of the legendary vortex of so many Gotham dreams, triumphs, failures and hopes. (It’s around the corner from Actor’s Equity, after all.) But the McDonald’s was so impossibly crowded last Friday night that I decided to go back home and finish my book there while having Chinese take-out.

It wasn’t as crammed as New Year’s Eve gets, but Times Square gets really clogged with humans around this time of year, and it can feel really lonely if you’re solo and not in a posse of your own friendly humans. So I ankled it back to my apartment. On the way, though, I walked by a souvenir store at 48th Street and Seventh Avenue that used to be a big porn theater where they held premieres back in the 70s and early 80s (yes, gala premieres of X-rated movies, complete with stars, red carpet, and Klieg lights). The only thing remaining that gave proof of that theater having once been there was the sidewalk in front of it, into which porn stars placed their hand prints and signatures–people like Gloria Leonard, Tiffany Clark, and Samantha Fox. Whenever I had visitors from out of town in recent years, I would walk them by that sidewalk and show them the foot-traffic-faded names. But last Friday I noticed, for the first time, that the handprints and signatures were gone, replaced by fresh pavement.

Here is a photo I made in 1995 of that location when it was still the Show Follies theater, with Peep Land next door. I met a couple of pretty hot peep show girls in that joint…but that’s a story for another time. Anyway, in the foreground of the pic I framed a current phone booth advertisement featuring Christy Turlington, one of the supermodels of the time. I always like the contrast of porn with mainstream media’s methods of titillation.

Christy Turlington’s sultry ad for Calvin Klein was as sexy to me as anything in the porn shops across the street. (Click to enlarge.)

When I got home with my Chinese take-out (I prefer moo goo gai pan, aka chicken with mushrooms), I decided to watch a little something on the DVD player while eating. And this turned out to be my second tool for “time traveling”–a bizarre and cheesy 1959 exploitation movie about the white slavery racket called The Naked Road. Because would you believe it? At the very end, there was a great shot of Times Square back in the 50s, complete with a marquee for the Globe Theater showing something called “Spice of Burlesk.” Felt like I was right there on the Great White Way, as the lights of Broadway used to be called in those days.

I really wonder what that “Spice of Burlesk” was. Maybe it’ll turn up on DVD one day? (Click to enlarge pic.)

So at least my eyeballs ended up traveling back in time thanks to The Naked Road, which is available in a six-movie set called Weird-Noir from Something Weird Video and Image Entertainment here on Amazon. (I don’t work for them, but I frequently see their movies and have written about them elsewhere.)

Sleazy flicks, just the way Uncle Irv likes ‘em! (Click pic to enlarge.)

After I watched The Naked Road, I went back to finishing The Murder That Wouldn’t Stay Solved, which was a very entertaining and enjoyable mystery full of colorful New York dialogue and characters, written by an author I had never heard of before, but whose works I will seek out again. He wrote this book under the moniker Hampton Stone, but achieved greater renown as George Bagby–although his real name was Aaron Marc Stein. He lived from 1906-1985. Look him up on Wikipedia under George Bagby here. He wrote about a hundred novels.

So thanks to his book and the footage in The Naked Road, I felt like I got to spend a little time in 50s Times Square–and it’s my pleasure to share it with you.

 

Porn scribe’s diary, 12/3/12: Essential smut fuel!

Monday through Friday, I often take a walk over to the local McDonald’s in the morning to get a large coffee. (It’s great that here, in NYC at least, any size McDonald’s coffee is only a buck.) I run this errand half for the coffee, and half to get out of my apartment and see other humans before settling in for my day’s XXX website and porn mag writing.

There is a very pretty girl at the nearby McDonald’s, on the fringe of Times Square, who is always so upbeat and friendly that it’s pleasure to see her working there, even if she doesn’t always wait on me. I wonder what her story is. I wouldn’t be surprised if she went onto much bigger things with her life. Maybe she’s attending college for some interesting degree, or striving to be some kind of entertainer, actress or singer? She does have a very good speaking voice.

Anyway, seeing her perks me up as much as the excellent McDonald’s coffee.

Java–my essential fuel for creating fine smut!

“Will you need more coffee, Mr. Neil?”

 

Can lechery save a life? A brief tale of New York City…

I went out to breakfast this morning, not far from Times Square, and on my way home I was distracted by an Asian girl in her twenties who, despite the gray, chilly weather, was wearing flip-flops. She was walking with a group of friends. Her toenails were polished brightly, and her sturdy tan legs were bare up to the middle of her thighs, where they met the hem of her short black skirt.

This is not exactly what her own feet looked like, but I thought I’d throw in a little eye candy which I found on a site called Very Naughty Feet here. Gauge by your own reactions to their beauty an approximation of what I felt…

Anyway, I decided just to enjoy the view, which took me out of my way for the long city block between Eighth Avenue and Broadway. Although I’ve been recovering from a cold this weekend, and kept blowing my nose into various fragments of Kleenex–and kept telling myself I should really go home and put on a warmer jacket–I managed to savor the sight of the young lady’s strong curvy calves and the backs of her knees. (I find the backs of knees extremely sexy.)

When they neared Broadway the group stopped and tried to get their bearings. They appeared to be tourists, and were deciding in which direction to go next. I walked past them and turned around (with subtlety I hoped) for one last surreptitious gaze upon the young lady’s colorful toes in her sandals. Then I turned away and looked toward the street, waiting for the light to change as I blew my nose yet once again.

The light was with me, yet this being New York in the age of the untrammeled propagation of bicyclists, I looked carefully each way to make sure no rider was zooming in my direction. As I did, I noticed one completely heedless bike rider bearing down the street and headed directly for a dark-haired thirtysomething woman who was walking into the road without seeing him. She was headed directly into his path. The bike rider wasn’t slowing down or adjusting and they were on a course to collide. I yelled out “MISS!” through my Kleenex and she stopped in her tracks, just as the bicyclist zoomed by inches from her face.

She looked at me for a brief moment and gave me an almost embarrassed smile, and then we continued on our individual ways in opposite directions.

Perhaps my lechery in following the Asian flip-flop girl for a block had a healthy side effect besides my own ocular pleasure. Because by taking me out of my way for a block, it enabled me to see that bicyclist, and warn the woman who was headed into his path.

And it’s ironic, given my fascination with Asian females, how both the woman I ogled and the woman I warned were both Asian.

 

Bosomy Manhattan Madam promotes her sex tips!

Occasionally I get out from behind the laptop and actually experience elements of the real world, and not just the compelling cosmos of erotica in my mind…so the other night I went to Headquarters NYC, a gentlemen’s club on West 38th Street near 11th Avenue, and attended a book party for The Manhattan Madam’s Secrets to Great Sex, which is published by a press called Quiver.

The book, which you can find here, was written by Kristin Davis, described on her Amazon page as “the woman behind one of the most successful prostitution rings in the history of the sex industry. Busted in 2008 for her affiliation with New York’s Governor Eliot Spitzer, she has accumulated the largest ‘little black book’ in the industry, with more than 10,000 names…prior to running an escort agency, she was Vice President of a Hedge Fund and holds a BA in Business and Master’s in Psychology. She took her finance background and applied it to the world’s oldest profession to build an empire that made over $5 million per year. Her business catered to the elite of the world, the A-list stars, athletes and politicians.”

Here’s a shot I snapped of Miss Kristin with her splendid decolletage…holding her book, of course, but wisely not obscuring her bosom!

The book was co-written with Lainie Speiser, publicist and columnist for Penthouse magazines and Adult Friend Finder, Inc., and somebody I’ve known for awhile in the erotica trade. Lainie has done a number of books like Confessions of the 100 Hottest Porn Stars and The Little Bit Naughty Book of Blow Jobs. 

I didn’t get a copy of the book yet but I hope to do so to peruse it for my regular review column “Stuff” in the men’s mag Swank. A book party in a strip club was unusual, to say the least, and there were plenty of guys, both press and fans, snapping pictures. There was also a videographer named Geoffrey Collymore from a YouTube Channel called FilmmakersFocus who took lots of footage of Kristin, Lainie, and the various Penthouse models in attendance. One celeb was the porn star Joanna Angel, famous for her heavily tattooed look and her alternative porn site Burning Angel. Check out the Filmmakers Focus footage here.

Of course, reading sex tips for women always comes in handy when I write fiction from the female point of view for “college girl” porn mags, which I do now and then–although usually the point-of-view is of eighteen year old girls, who aren’t supposed to know all that much! Well, maybe I’ll write a short story about a girl who gets Kristin and Lainie’s book for her eighteenth birthday!

The staff of Headquarters (you can find the club’s website here) was quite friendly…I’ll have to go back there for another visit and sample one of their lapdance specialists soon…

 

Femdom Sunday at the New York Post!

The New York Post is a pretty interesting tabloid on Sunday, with lots of well-written reviews and editorials. And this Sunday the paper has a real BDSM, femdom slant. The cover story in the Pulse section is about Anne Hathaway as Catwoman in the new Batman flick, and runs this photo (among several):

On page 3 we learn that women are smarter than men…science proves it:

Batman kneels in front of Catwoman in a comic strip panel reproduced on page 38:

A column about the media fallout from the “mommy porn” bestselling smut sensation Fifty Shades of Grey also runs a leggy shot of Ashley Greene, and talks about the new mainstream interest in BDSM from soccer moms. (And think about it: the triumph of a porn novel written by a woman is a femdom kind of triumph, even though the book is about female sexual submissiveness. As far as I know, no penis-bearing writer has ever hit the top of the bestseller lists with an outright erotic novel.)

And top it all, the Post presents on page 23 the photographic piece de resistance for lovers of giantesses, always a popular femdom sub-fetish: a Getty Images pic of a man crossing his hands near his crotch and standing in a test tube held by an enormous, steely-eyed, analytical woman!

And to think we New Yorkers used to have to go to fetish bookstores to glimpse stuff like this!