Mad Men

Eight is enough

From the director that brought you "Helvetica"

If you'll objectify me, I'll whack your shuttlecock.

I'll be there. So should you.

Join the Friends of Jefferson

Tonight, 7–10 p.m.  at  Happy Ending Lounge

302 Broome Street, NYC • B or D to Grand Street
J, M, Z to Bowery • F to Delancy
$20 suggested donation—but pay what you wish

Come and get your spank on at the Spanking Booth!

Enter to win:

> GRAND PRIZE - original drawing by Nayland Blake

> Babeland gift certificates babeland.com

> Books • DVDs • Museum passes

> Venus Ropes Whip-and-Cane Bag Set and Rope

> A Scene or Lesson with Boymeat

> The Erotic Art of Spanking DVD w/ book by Lolita Wolf

> Hitachi Magic Wand

> Home Depot Pervertibles Kit

> For Your Nyphomation Flogger Trunk

> Edens Fantasys Gift basket|

> A Scene or Lesson with Lolita Wolf

> Lubricious Lube

> 2 passes to the Sexies Awards

> 2 National Coalition for Sexual Freedom (NCSF) memberships

> 2 NCSF T-shirts

and more!

Drink specials! Mister Ginger (ginger infused vodka, ginger ale, and fresh lime juice) only $4 from 7-9pm. Blue Ribbon beer for just $3 and single liquor well drinks for just $7 all night long.

Jefferson’s ex-wife sued for full custody of his kids, because of his involvement with alternative sexual expression, despite an absence of any evidence that his sexuality adversely impacts his children, and despite an abundance of evidence that he is a conscientious and responsible father. You can see more info and updates at his blog, One Life Take Two

100 percent of door donations and raffle proceeds benefit the Friends of Jefferson Legal Defense Fund, which is administered by the Sexual Freedom Legal Defense and Education Fund.

If you can’t join us, please consider making an ANONYMOUS, TAX-DEDUCTIBLE contribution to Jefferson’s legal defense by visiting the Sexual Freedom Defense and Education Fund.

Please remember to specify that your donation is earmarked for the Jefferson Legal Defense Fund. The Sexual Freedom Legal Defense and Education Fund affirms that these earmarked donations are tax deductible.

Permission is granted to forward or post this to your blog or other lists. In fact, we would appreciate it if you helped spread the word. Thanks!

Floating World 08

I don't make plans. I used to make plans, I used to be a lot more organized. When I first started going to kink conventions, about two years ago, I would start packing a week in advance. I'd have specially crafted shopping and to-do lists. I would massage my profile and chat with potential playmates.  I would print-out the class schedule and highlight my choices. I'd bring Luna bars and Airborne. I'd pack at least 2 corsets and 2 pairs of boots to go with my carefully planned outfits. I had my suitcase packed to the brim and my toy bag stuffed with at least 2 vibrators, a dildo, spreader bars, handcuffs, a paddle, 2 floggers, a box of condoms and lately a gas mask. None of which I would end up using. Well, except for the dildo and the vibrator. I'd print out all the paperwork and get to the train station an hour early so I could get my bottle of water and my Vanity Fair.

This time, I woke up with a slight hang-over about a hour later than I intended with bags under the bags under my eyes. I threw a half-assed assortment of tops and bottoms, that may or may not have gone together, into the suitcase about a half hour before I had to leave for the train. No corset, one pair of blacks flats as an alternative to the leather Chuck Taylors, a paddle and oh yeah, a dildo and the Hitachi and it all fit in one suitcase. I made it to the train station with about 20 minutes to spare. Enough time to get the fall Vogue and a bottle of water and wander around looking for Lynsey who had the foresight to buy my ticket for me. After a mad dash down the platform, I found my partner in crime. 

I didn't fill out my profile (or did I? I don't even remember), I printed out the schedule and circled a few classes, but neglected to actually check to see what day or time they were being held. Before we went on to the hotel, we stopped and got a couple of slices near the train station. Looking over the list, I realized I had missed one and was currently missing a class I wanted to check out. No matter. A slice of pepperoni pizza, a fountain coke and 3 nights of air-conditioning were all I really needed at the moment. I made no playdates, made no plans to meet up with anyone. A friend of mine asked me if I was going to Winter Fire in October. I replied, "I don't even know what I'm doing next week."

I figured I'd just see what happens. I've found if I just keep my eyes and ears open, something usually comes up. But that's my trouble with going to these events as a single person. There is no assured partner. There is no definitive go-to person to tie up, beat up or fuck. There is no "assumed we". There is no guarantee of a naked body in the bed next to me after a night in the dungeon. I was feeling particularly lazy last weekend and didn't go out of my way to find that naked person.

I pretty much knew the weekend would be about the classes and there were a few I dug more than others: Lolita's class on gags inspired me to buy my own dental retractors. Corey Alexander's Full Body BDSM reminded me why I love being thrown against walls. Yin's "When Home Depot is your Sex Toy Store" was inspiring in more ways than one. Because of British "Lucky" Paul's class on suspension without rope, I now desperately want to get fucked while hanging upside-down in a straight jacket. I happen to own a straight jacket, so I'm part of the way there.

I'm going to Dark Odyssey Camp and I've promised myself I'd be a bit more proactive and do some prep work. As much as I'd like to believe it, cocks just aren't going to just leap into my pussy from thin air. I'm not Fonzie. I can't snap my fingers and have a man grinning with a flogger appear at my side within seconds. So, I did my profile, I'm messaging and I'm buying a cold weather sleeping bag so I don't wake up in the middle of the night with my teeth chattering like last year. I hope to get a ride, so I don't have to limit all my crap to two bags on the train. I'm learning. There's still no "assumed we". I don't know if you've noticed, but I haven't mentioned Ben in a while. I'd say we broke up, but he would have to actually communicate with me in some way to actually break up with me.

It's still hard for me to ask for what I want, but I'm working on it.

I'm getting shit done.

PS: Holy crap! I forgot about the two most fun parts of the weekend! Lynsey punched me in the face (kind of) in Angel's class (against her gentle nature) and mummified my head in plastic wrap in Yin's class which was wonderful. I could have taken a nap in there. So I learned two new things about myself: getting punched in the face is kind of hot (if done extremely gently by someone who doesn't really want to punch you in the face) and I like getting my head mummified. We tried to wrap up the rest of me in my hotel room after dinner, but only got as far as my right forearm.

Because we all want a happy ending

Join the Friends of Jefferson on August 27, 7 p.m. to 10 p.m.

at Happy Ending Lounge

302 Broome Street, NYC 

B or D to Grand Street J, M, Z to Bowery  / F to Delancy

$20 suggested donation—but pay what you wish

Come and get your spank on at the Spanking Booth! Enter to win:

Babeland gift certificates • Books • Venus Ropes Whip-and-Cane Bag Set and Rope • A Scene or Lesson with Boymeat • The Erotic Art of Spanking DVD w/ book, by Lolita Wolf • Hitachi Magic Wand • Home Depot Pervertables Kit • DVDs • For Your Nyphomation Flogger Trunk • A Scene or Lesson with Lolita Wolf • and more!

100 percent of door donations and raffle proceeds benefit the Friends of Jefferson Legal Defense Fund, which is administered by the Sexual Freedom Legal Defense and Education Fund

The F.O.J.

Graphic by Lynsey

I do. As often as I possibly can.

After spending 3 days in the smack-dab middle of the country, I was ready to come back to New York. Goodbye wide open spaces and tall, long lanky corn-fed girls (side note, modeling scouts should go to Missouri because there seemed to be an unusually disproportionate number of very tall, very skinny girls there). After spending 3 days wallowing in bear hugs and tall family tales, it was time to come back to reality. There's only so much smiling you can do before your cheeks start to ache.

I have only been a bridesmaid once before (really more like a best woman), for my friend Katherine and her girlfriends commitment ceremony. This time it was for my favorite cousin. I stood there at the front of the church, perched on a step, stiff and proper as my feet slowly started to go numb in my new heels. I could feel the beads of sweat collect inside my invisible, adhesive bra purchased in haste at the Target next to the hotel. I forgot how low my dress came down in the back and had neglected to procure the correct undergarment. The dress also revealed a massive bite mark just below my right shoulder. I panicked for a moment, but decided that between explaining the mark and revealing my bra strap, the latter was the lesser of the two evils.

My mother, helping me into the silicone boob stickers said, "What's that mark on your back?" I sighed, "What does it look like, mom?" Feeling a sudden urge for transparency I said, "It's a bite mark, now how does this bra-thing work?"

She paused, "If anyone asks, we'll just say you had an accident."

So, I stood there with a frozen smile on my face, gripping the bouquet as song after song after song was sung (god, so many songs) and my mind drifted to an old boyfriend and his brother's wedding. I wore a sensible sleeveless black dress and little black heels. Underneath, I chose stockings in anticipation for some shenanegans. As as one of the best men, he looked dashing in his black suit and silk tie. We both cleaned up pretty nice. We had yet to realize that our relationship was held together only by sheer laziness and a mutual appreciation for his penis.

It was sometime after the food and before the cake that we sneaked off to the upstairs bathroom. He closed the door behind us, but I don't think he bothered to lock it. He pushed me over and I gripped the sink as he ran his hands up my thighs, lifting my dress, rubbing my ass framed by the garters. He gave my butt a few little slaps and reached in front to rub my pussy through my damp underwear, making them wetter than they already were, until he finally just pulled them down and off over my heels.

He pushed me down even further so my head was bumping into the tap. The sink was right underneath the window, overlooking the garden and I watched the guests chatting and finishing their meal under the tent while he fingered my cunt. He collected as much of my juice as he could and slipped his fingers into my ass using my lube as his lube. I heard him spit on his hand then felt the head of his dick at my asshole. I raised up on my toes and shoved my ass out waiting for the push, that first tiny bit of resistance, that little, "Oh yeah, this isn't a cunt" and then straight to the hilt, both of us groaning. I heard the tinkle of cutlery on glass from outside and watched one of his brothers stand up. With my head bumping against the tap in time with his thrusts I gasped, "Your brother's giving a toast." He just grunted, placed his hand on my lower back, pushed me down further so he could get a little deeper and fucked me harder.

My knees buckled, I ground my ass up to meet him and urgently fingered myself until I came, suppressing a long guttural moan. My ass clenched on to his cock and he came up my ass screaming into the fabric of my bunched up dress.

We straightened ourselves up. He wiped off any traces of fluid I might have left behind on his lovely trousers and I did the same. I was tempted to use the decorative monogramed towels to wipe myself off, but that would have just been rude. I checked my face in the mirror and we joined the rest of the guests just in time for the cutting of the cake. As we stood posing for the photographer, surrounded by his family, I could feel his come leaking out of my asshole.

This weekend, I was expecting a bombardment of, "So when are you getting married, your little cousin needs a playmate, when are you having kids, don't you want to get married and have kids?" Fortunately, there were only a few isolated incidents and no one mentioned the bite mark. My cousin and her new husband beamed and giggled all day like teenagers, speeches were made that brought tears to my eyes, my new family members were lovely and interesting and fun. My three year old little cousin, the flower girl, wrapped me firmly around her tiny little finger. 

Back at the hotel, I kicked off my shoes and peeled the bra off of my tits, relieved to have it over with. More than that, I was relieved that I was not left with an overwhelming need to be married or to have an adorable three year old of my own. I wasn't envious of my cousins handsome husbands and brilliant kids. At all.

I did, however, leave insanely horny, for what that's worth.

Call to Action

An important member of the sex-positive community urgently needs our help.

Jefferson—blogger, educator, and friend to so many of us—is at this moment fighting a court battle with his ex-wife, who is seeking full custody of their three children.

Jefferson's love for his children has been well-documented on his blog One Life, Take Two for years. His ex-wife has stated in court that he is a "great" father who loves his children.

However, among her claims is that his bisexuality makes him an unfit parent.

Jefferson needs our help now. As a writer, his resources are limited. The costs of fighting this case are mounting quickly—and will certainly run into the tens of thousands of dollars.

As of today, there is an urgent and immediate need for at least $20,000 to cover costs associated with attorney fees and those of the law guardian who has been appointed to represent the children.

If he is unable to pay these fees by August 11, he will be forced to relinquish custody of his children.

This case is of concern to anyone whose sexuality does not fit the standard mold—because it could happen to you. This case is of concern to all writers, because Jefferson's blog is being used as evidence against him—and that could have repercussions for our First Amendment rights.

Here's how to help:

Make an ANONYMOUS, TAX-DEDUCTIBLE contribution to Jefferson's legal defense by visiting the Sexual Freedom Defense and Education Fund at:

www.sfldef.org

There you will find out how to donate to Jefferson's Defense Fund via PayPal or, if you prefer, check or money order.

Please note that you MUST mention that your donation be used for the JEFFERSON LEGAL DEFENSE FUND.

In the coming days, www.onelifetaketwo.com will be relaunched with information about Jefferson's ongoing case. Be sure to visit his blog for updates. In the meantime, you can contact Jefferson directly at friendsofjefferson@gmail.com.

Thanks very much for your time and concern.