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Weird Sex (Practices, Preferences & Accoutrements!)

Nice book: From Those Wonderful Folks Who Gave You Pearl Harbor, Jerry della Femina :)

In the business world of the 1950s and early 60s, sex was a forbidden subject – everyone did it and no one talked about it. But by 1965 the sexual revolution was on, and the advertising business went wild. I encouraged it at my agency because nothing got creative people to come in early and leave late better than the prospect of sexual adventure.

In 1967, when I opened my ad agency, Jerry Della Femina & Partners, a group of us started an Agency Sex Contest. For more than twenty-five years, one week at the end of every year was devoted to Animal House-like antics. This was, until today, the best-kept secret in advertising. Thousands of people took part in the Agency Sex Contest.

The contest had everyone in the agency voting anonymously on paper ballots for the three people they most wanted to go to bed with. They were also asked to vote on the person of the same sex they would consider going to bed with. And, of course, there was the ménage a trois category, in which they selected the two other people they wanted to go to bed with. Sometimes as many as 300 votes were cast.

For one week the walls of the agency were covered with posters made by people who were campaigning for themselves. One very shy girl in Accounting got into the spirit of the contest, Xeroxed her breasts and hung pictures of them on the walls. Another young account executive had as her slogan: VOTE FOR AMANDA [not her real name]. LIKE BLOOMINGDALE’S, I’M OPEN AFTER 9 EVERY NIGHT.

One very attractive female executive had a sexy picture of herself that she sneaked into the agency’s men’s room, and put up on the wall that a man would be facing. The caption under her provocative photo read, CAN I HELP YOU WITH THAT? This almost caused a disaster when a rather priggish client called and said he was on his way to visit the agency. In the hour before he arrived, we feverishly took down every campaign ad. Then, in the course of the meeting, the man excused himself to go to the men’s room. After a few minutes I let out a scream. We had forgotten to take the campaign posters off men’s bathroom wall. The client returned ashen-faced. He never said a word about the signs but he kept shaking his head. I would walk out of the meeting every five minutes just to giggle and then come back looking like the proper head of a major advertising agency.

Voting was on the up and up. One year I had our accounting firm tally up the ballots. You never saw so many accountants looking so amused and animated in your life.

First prize for the winning couple (even if they hadn’t voted for each other) was a weekend at the Plaza Hotel, paid for by my agency. Second prize was a night at the Plaza. Third prize was a night uninterrupted on the couch in my office. Winners of the ménage a trois got dinner for three at the Four Seasons Restaurant. Winners of the gay and lesbian part of the contest won a $100 gift certificate to The Pleasure Chest – a store in Greenwich Village that sold sex toys.
 
In succeeding days a number of witnesses were called, the principal among them testifying that Katherine and Prince Arthur had consummated the marriage after their wedding. On leaving the bedroom on the following morning, Arthur had been heard to say that ‘I have been in Spain all night’.

Peter Ackroyd
The Tudors

Note: The daughter of Isabella I of Castile and Ferdinand II of Aragon, Catherine was three years old when she was betrothed to Prince Arthur, heir apparent to the English throne. They married in 1501, but Arthur died five months later.
 
From:
Tracers in the dark
Andy Green erg
(A book about hunting Bitcoin criminals)

Every Rawmeo post ended with his lengthy signature, which summed up his lifestyle and extolled the paradoxical virtues of promiscuity for men and virginity for women: “Living in Thailand, enjoying life, making money, not interested in Western woman, not giving a fuck about millennial problems, addicted to rawdogging. #NoHymenNoDiamond #PoppedCherryDontMarry #RealMenDontDateSingleMoms.”
Cazes, like many pickup artistry adherents, believed in a strict system of “sexual market value,” or SMV, that could be calculated to determine a man’s sexual fortunes. “The four pillars of SMV are Fame, Looks, Money, Game,” he wrote. “I’d say fame is #1.”
He described how he would explain to the Thai women he seduced that he was of a higher social class than them and they were lucky to have his attention, even briefly. “Once she started showing ‘strong personality’ I had to let her go,” he wrote of one woman. In another post, he counseled his fellow alphas to seek out single mothers for easy sex, but never a longer-term relationship. “Not interested in being a cuckold before even having started the relationship, but for the bang, it can be good,” he wrote. “Just let out a ‘fatherly’ vibe and you’re in.”
Cazes, like many Roosh V members, was obsessed with the threat of false rape allegations. He boasted of his solution, one that, for someone obsessed with privacy, was a shocking admission. “I secretly record EVERY new sex intercourse with a girl with a hidden camera in my room,” he wrote. “This is stored on an encrypted hard drive, ready to be pulled in case the shit hits the fan. If nothing bad happens, nobody will ever know that the video exists. I respect my girls’ privacy.”
 
From:
Tracers in the dark
Andy Greenberg
(A book about hunting Bitcoin criminals)

NCA agents had been tracking an offender named Matthew Falder. An academic based in Manchester, England, Falder would pose as a female artist and solicit nude photos from strangers on the internet, then use those images to blackmail them, threatening to share the images of his victims with their family or friends unless they recorded themselves carrying out increasingly demeaning and depraved acts. He’d then use those videos as further blackmail fodder, forcing his victims to commit self-harm and sexually abuse others on camera. By the time he was arrested, he had targeted fifty people, at least three of whom had attempted suicide.
 
uair01 said:
From:
Tracers in the dark
Andy Greenberg
(A book about hunting Bitcoin criminals)

NCA agents had been tracking an offender named Matthew Falder. An academic based in Manchester, England, Falder would pose as a female artist and solicit nude photos from strangers on the internet, then use those images to blackmail them, threatening to share the images of his victims with their family or friends unless they recorded themselves carrying out increasingly demeaning and depraved acts. He’d then use those videos as further blackmail fodder, forcing his victims to commit self-harm and sexually abuse others on camera. By the time he was arrested, he had targeted fifty people, at least three of whom had attempted suicide.
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I recognise that name. Sky News did a special about Falder after his sentencing.

 
brownmane said:
At first the experts thought it was a darning needle, now, they're not so sure:

https://www.cbc.ca/radio/asithappens/ancient-roman-dildo-1.6755242
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The 2,000-year-old object, discovered in 1992 at the Roman fort of Vindolanda in Northumberland, England, was initially classified as a tool for darning.
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When they say a 'tool for darning', they mean what we'd call a 'darning mushroom'. You turn your holey sock inside out, position the fat end of the tool under the gap and stitch across to repair it.
 
Mikefule said:
My first thought when I saw the picture was a pestle with a phallic handle. A crude joke like a mediaeval bollock dagger hilt.

Then I read the article and pestle is one of their suggestions.
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Yup, as you'll know the Romans decorated all sorts of household items with the phallus design. Like a lucky charm.
So something that looks enough like a penis to be a dildo is most likely nothing of the sort. :chuckle:
 
escargot said:
When they say a 'tool for darning', they mean what we'd call a 'darning mushroom'. You turn your holey sock inside out, position the fat end of the tool under the gap and stitch across to repair it.
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My mom used to darn my dad's socks when I was young. I never really watched how she did it. I hate sewing.
 
Year in prison demanded for secretly removing condom during sex
https://nos.nl/artikel/2465579-jaar-cel-geeist-voor-stiekem-verwijderen-condoom-tijdens-seks

The Public Prosecutor's Office in Dordrecht has demanded one-year prison sentences in two separate cases against two men for allegedly secretly removing their condoms during sex. It also demands that the men pay immaterial damages to the alleged victims.

As far as we know, these are the first cases in which defendants are being tried for this so-called "stealthing. This term for secretly removing the condom is not in the Dutch Penal Code, but is already punishable in some countries, such as Germany, Switzerland and New Zealand. The OM is prosecuting both men for rape.

The cases are separate and have similarities, but also many differences. Both defendants met the women with whom they had sex through a dating app. But in one case, the 28-year-old suspect denies there was unsafe sex, while the 26-year-old suspect in the other case admits it, but denies there was intent.

For the 28-year-old, 12 months is demanded with 4 months probation. It is also demanded that he pay 4,000 euros in immaterial damages to the woman with whom he had sex. For the 26-year-old, the demand is 12 months, 6 of which are on probation. As far as the prosecution is concerned, he must pay 3000 euros to his bed partner. The verdict is on March 14.

Translated with www.DeepL.com/Translator (free version)
 
Love comes in many different guises.
 

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ramonmercado said:
When I'm holding your wheel
All I hear is your gear
With my hand on your grease gun
Ooh, it's like a disease, son
I'm in love with my car
Got a feel for my automobile

I’m in Love With My Car
Song by Queen
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Roger Taylor, well-known petrolhead, wrote that.

This bit -
With my hand on your grease gun
Ooh, it's like a disease, son

always sounded a bit gay to me.
Not that there's anything wrong with gay of course. I bet Freddie enjoyed singing that. :)
 
Let's see a 2000 years old Roman road sign pointing the way to a brothel.
I'm told that as you approached the brothel, the nob carvings were bigger.
 

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