Fleshbotless

Sorry folks, no Sex Blog Roundup this week. I was running late and Fleshbot headquarters closed early. I must get accustomed to sex’s summer schedule. Please pass my white loafers.

Still, those of you who enjoy stalking me will find plenty to read.

Mariella ponders the new reality of sucking her first real live dick, trying to navigate the boundaries between “just right” and “lap full of puke.”

Bianca, craving romance within a relationship, puts aside other opportunities for sex—although she does grandfather Tilda and me into her contract.

Wendy runs into me at a party as she contemplates anal sex and brass balls.

Alice flunks a test I insisted she take, to her confused relief.

Bridget tells us more about daily life with her fine husband, wondering at his friendship with me.

While in Chicago for Shibaricon, I met a long-time reader of our blogs. We wound up taking Mariel back to our hotel room for tits—in the flesh, not on the radio—and lacings.

In other stalking news, my experiment with Twitter goes much as expected. I’ve been chided for Twittering when I had not first answered email, seen my cock blogged in real time, and read along with Rachel Kramer Bussel’s every cupcake. Next: live webcam feeds as I brush my teeth, twice daily.

This week, I read Bridget Jones’s Diary, which I found collecting dust as I was packing for my recent move. I had never read it, nor have I seen the movie, much less the sequels. Not my cuppa, really, but still, v.g. for riding the tube. Durr!

Putting the book away, I squeezed it into place on my fiction shelves, which are arranged alphabetically by author. Just as Bridget bounces between Daniel Cleaver and Mark Darcy, perhaps Helen Fielding will keep things light between William Faulkner and Jonathan Franzan. Sort of like Abby Lee and Stan Lee are cutting it up in the middle of nonfiction.