Happy Thanksgiving! & A FREE READ-Cherries After Dinner

27 Nov

By Madeline Iva

IMG_2364Lady Smut wishes you and your family a warm THANKSGIVING holiday with all that your heart desires — food, family, and good spirits.

Or we wish you a rousing political protest against the celebration that led to a genocide of indigenous American people–if that’s more your thing.

Anyhoo, here are two treats for you — some popular blog posts from the past

AND

a free read! — A little vanilla romance story for all our dear followers. We’ll be back next week to bring you all the smexy smut that’s fit to blog.  xo, Madeline

Would You Get Out Alive? Bear Grylls Is the Survivalist of My Dreams

Seriously Stacked: Extremely Curvy Women

Mr. Unattainable: Icy, Emotionally With-holding Heroes–& Why I Love Them So

Fire Crotch: Curse of The Red Hot Red Head

Sexsomnia!

F*** My Brains Out: Why Smart Guys Are So Sexy

Last, but not least–here is FREE READ just for you.  Cherries After Dinner — ENJOY!

I Break For Turkeys

23 Nov
On Thanksgiving, the last thing in the world I need to deal with is laundry.

On Thanksgiving, the last thing in the world I need to deal with is laundry.

By Alexa Day

I’m getting a jump start on the post-Thanksgiving food coma and will be taking this week off. I don’t go in for all the holiday cooking, but the gluttony and ensuing sloth are quite appealing to me and I highly recommend them to others.

While you’re just lying there being slothful, why don’t you check out some of my favorite posts from earlier this year? That’s right. I’m suggesting my own posts, which probably constitutes pride. What can I say? I’ve got two deadly sins planned this week, and the overachiever in me needed to go for the trifecta.

What does the girl who has everything actually want this holiday season? Robot sex.

Trying to stay on the naughty list (where the gifts are better, trust me)? Practice your sexting.

Sick of football? Here’s a coach you can get behind. Or in front of. Whatever.

And just for kicks, here’s some fun with Tom Hiddleston and a $65,000 car. You’re welcome.

Follow Lady Smut now and beat the rush.

Sexy Saturday Round-Up

22 Nov

By Liz Everly and the Lady Smut Bloggers

DarkDesiresHello Sexy! Hope you’re having a fabulous  Saturday. Curl up with us at Lady Smut and read some of our favorite posts from this week.

From Liz :

Can you have too many orgasms? Oh yes, you can.

Here’s fabulous list of sex blogs. Fair warning: this could keep you occupied for hours, if not days.

On Wattpad

The gate we should have kept.

On dating down.

From Madeline:

Slate.com sez: It’s not your kids holding you back in your career–it’s your husband. 

The Insect that Loves Sex 

Items from the Institute of Sexology

Why you love to hate some of your friends–and how it’s damaging your health. 

Elizabeth Shore reported about the cuddle phenom to y’all–here’s the latest update: how to get your cuddle on.

Vintage Black Glamour 

Over at Geekyfreaky, geeks argue over sexy comic icons.  The battle then continues–this time about muscled heroes–over at Comics Alliance.com

From C. Margery Kempe:

Mark Coker on how ebook publishing gets harder from now on

William Blake’s London in an app

In depth interview at The Toast with Susan Farrell of Art Crimes

Stay Hungry,

Liz

Just Dance

21 Nov Shaw Dancing

Shaw Dancingby C. Margery Kempe

Do you love to dance?

For some reason, dancing has been coming up this week in so many conversations online and in face-to-face too. Obviously I need to dance more and that’s good exercise. And it’s cold in the house so getting up to do some yoga or a little dancing is just a way to stay warm (praise all the gods, we haven’t yet got major snow unlike the folks in the west) because it costs a lot to keep a 200 year old house — well, not so much warm as not freezing.

So yeah, there’s a practical side to dancing. Whether you think it the first refinements of a polished society or the province of ‘savages’ dance has always been around. And it has so very often played exactly the role Shaw gives it in the image above: testing one’s sexual mettle. Years ago I berated a male friend for refusing to dance (as I often do). I told him, “A man who gets up and dances — however badly! — is miles ahead of the guy who sits at the table, arms folded, refusing to dance.”

My friend taxed the truth of that statement O.O (sorry, Howie, you know it’s true!) but he agreed eventually (cue that Footloose scene but ten times worse). Men will tell you all kinds of reasons they ‘can’t dance’ (most of them incredibly stupid and sexist and often homophobic). The real reason? To dance well you have to listen, feel, trust your body and respond to your partner.

Huh.

Physical partnership with attention to details: well yes. As Christopher Morley wrote in Kitty Foyle, “Dancing is wonderful training for girls, it’s the first way you learn to guess what a man is going to do before he does it.” In other words, it’s a good predictor of sexual performance. You notice the way someone moves, how they take your hand, how quickly they get in sync with your rhythm, when they’re gentle, when they push you to do more. How do they use their hands or is it all in the feet? How do your bodies fit together? There’s no one right way to do it: but you know what makes your skin come alive.

Consider the Finnish tango: even in the snow, the people who often seen to be the least forthcoming about how they feel (trust me, it’s a gene that gets carried along!) go for the sexy heat of the tango. Say it on the dance floor even if you can’t say it out loud.

Please send me your last pair of shoes, worn out with dancing as you mentioned in your letter, so that I might have something to press against my heart. – Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

Follow you dark dancing desires with Lady Smut. We’d never lead you astray — unless you wanted to go that way!

Sexy Older Men–AKA The Daddy Figure

20 Nov
Model Steven Ritts has a whole new career these days--as the older guy.

Model Steven Ritts has a whole new career these days–as the older guy.

By Madeline Iva

Occasionally, the guy who runs OkCupid.com shares interesting statistical from his dating site.  One statistic: women tend to think the ideal age for a man is the same age as herself. For example, if a woman is 21 then her idea of the ideal age for a man is 21.  If she’s 35, then it’s 35.

Men, on the other hand, think that the ideal age for a woman is 21.

It’s like the punch line to a bad joke.  Cue the sound effects: Whaaa-waaa-waaaaah.

I am not surprised.  Never have I been so hit upon as when I was 21-ish.  Nine-tenths of the men were older–around thirty or so.  They saw a young woman alone in the world and wanted to take care of me.  It was an irresistible urge on their part.  I wanted nothing to do with them–an irresistible urge on my part.  Basically, I was very intimidated.

To be honest, I had grown up fatherless. The daddy figure thing hit me on an emotional funny bone.  It made the sexual chemistry between me and a guy who was older hideously uncomfortable and icky for me.

Ah, how joyous it was when I met my dear beloved husband and that issue was put to rest for forever.  No more being approached by older men.

Years later I was hanging out with two guys at lunch–both of whom were about fifteen years younger than me.  They talked about living in NYC where they both got entangled with older women.  The bottom line: while they really wanted to relish the ego boost of having knocked boots with a sexy older women–in their hearts of hearts they found older women intimidating. Hooray! — It wasn’t just me. I know other people are different, but I appreciated the company.

Foyle 3

Good father figure.

Then I got a little older.  Things changed.  First I became a lot more aware of men physically.  My friends were the same.  All our minds seemed to have wandered to the gutter. They confessed to a sudden obsessions with men’s legs, or chests.  Me too! But for me it was also a time where I did an about-face with the whole older man thing.

I’ve noticed I’m once more getting the eye from older men.  Of course, older now doesn’t mean guys in their 30’s, it means guys in their 50’s and early 60’s.  Usually at the gym.  Sometimes in the line at the grocery store or in a cafe. Unlike the younger men, who will be staring at my breasts in the gym and then look up another six inches, flush and look away, older men are going for eye contact with the hint of a smile.  Unlike younger older men (!) older older men, seem to be able to read subtle cues that I’m not interested and they stay away.  And me? I’m not bothered by the whole thing as I used to be.

Looking at actors on TV or in movies, I find that suddenly older men aren’t intimidating–they’re sexy.  In fact, I like the idea of older men.  Someone more patient.  Someone who recognizes his own flaws.  Someone who sees things across a landscape of experience and makes a gentle suggestion that really helps.  I also find that I like the way older men look.  Is it just me or have older men stepped up their game?  Some men improve dramatically over the decades– both in appearance and in charisma.

Hugh 4

Bad Daddy figure.

There’s a quality of experience and assurance with older men that I now like and appreciate.  But, so what? What we’re really talking here is the daddy figure thing–in a sexy, more sophisticated form.  The whole dark desire of a Daddy Figure? Not so freaky to me any more.  Definitely a forbidden desire. Definitely hot.

And why IS it so forbidden? The older-man/younger-woman thing is as old as time.  As common as it is, our society gets incredibly critical at the idea and takes a huge crap on it. With good reason sometimes.  Another statistic: the greater the age gap, the greater the chance of a couple breaking up.

On television I notice that sometimes the older man and the younger women just have the chemistry. When they try to match up the older guy to an age appropriate foil, it’s not the same.  (Though I appreciate the thought.)

What are you gonna do?  In FOYLE’S WAR they just let all that chemistry lie there.  On HOUSE they took it to an awkward, painful place.  As usual. Alas.

Meanwhile…

Go forth next week and feast your heart out at Thanksgiving! We’re going to post some of our favorite blog posts from the past while wishing you warm holiday cheer.

You don’t want to miss any of our oldie-but-goodie blog posts do you? Follow our blog and keep yourself fed with sexy-goodness 24/7.

The Objects Of My Desire

19 Nov

Woman in white bra with hand on man's abs

By Elizabeth Shore

We’ve all by now seen the video of model Shoshana Roberts walking the streets of NYC and receiving over a hundred catcalls during a 10 hour period of time. It sparked a firestorm of debate. “Verbal harassment!” said many feminists. “Giving a woman compliments!” argued a vocal group of men – and some women. Fox News got it on the action, with their political pundit Bob Beckel saying on air about Ms. Roberts – and I quote – “damn, baby, you’re a piece of woman.”

The two-pronged argument by those who dislike catcalling is first that it allows men to exert power over women by making them feel scared and threatened merely by walking down the street, and second that it makes women feel like nothing more than a hot piece of T&A for men’s sexual gratification. We are, the objectors say, objectified.

It’s a word that gets thrown around a lot, and nearly always in the context of women being made to feel that way by men. Fellow writer Elf Ahearn and I were talking about this very thing the other day when she mused out loud, “are women objectifying men the way they do to us?” Interesting question. Are they? The answer, I’ve come to learn, isn’t all that simple.

Look up the definition of objectifying someone and you get a response along the lines of: viewing a person merely as the sum of her parts with no consideration of emotions, feelings, or thoughts of her own. So if a woman sees a guy and yells out, “Hey, Stud, oooooh! What’s going on with that rise in your Levis?” hasn’t she just objectified him? Strictly speaking, she has. Except wait! There’s more …

An interesting article on everydayfeminist.com by writer Shannon Ridgway points out that a fundamental difference between a man feeling objectified by a woman versus a woman feeling the same way by a man is that “men haven’t experienced systematic, centuries-long objectification like women have.” They may be insulted or demeaned by a woman commenting on their “package,” for example, but the occasional insult cannot be compared with what women have endured for centuries.

If you watch the video, some of the comments do seem to come across as men simply being flirtatious. “What’s up, Beautiful? Have a good day,” says one guy to Ms. Roberts as they pass one another.” Harmless enough, right? So say many guys, bemused by women feeling threatened by those comments. Video blogger Red Pill Philosophy taped a response to the video in which he questions feminists’ “petty, elitist, victimhood mentality.” Victim of what?! he demands to know. “Of too many men begging to hand over their money and energy to please you? Feed you?”

Red Pill is forgetting the Native American saying about not judging a person until you’ve walked a mile in their moccasins. He’s not capable of understanding how it feels to be a woman, preyed upon or threatened by a man’s unwanted attention. Watch the guy in the video walking next to Ms. Roberts for five minutes, refusing to realize that she doesn’t want him there. Would a man feel threatened by a woman doing the same thing? Generally speaking, men are bigger, stronger, and faster – so why would they? If a women whistles and makes obscene hand gestures, a guy can easily laugh it off. Or even, as some would argue, take it as nothing more a harmless compliment. So do they feel objectified? And if they do, do they care? Is the romance genre and our focus on the hot bodied males of our dreams make us any less guilty of objectifying men than they do to us with their whistles and calls?

DarkDesiresLet us know how you feel in the comments below. And for more thought provoking posts, remember to follow up here at Lady Smut. We won’t object.

 

 

 

Pleasing You

18 Nov

images-5

By Liz Everly

Last week, my blog post about Miss Fisher’s Mysteries, “The Sexy Vibe of Miss Fisher’s Murder Mysteries” went berserk. The numbers were sky high. I don’t usually pay attention my numbers on the blog, but this was so amazingly high that it grabbed my attention.

Which of course made me wonder why. I’m certain it has to do with the popularity of Miss Fisher’s Mysteries. I was wondering about the headline starting with “Sexy Vibe.” That might have done it. But the truth is I just don’t know.

Because it the numbers were so big last week, I decided to look back through some of my blog posts over the past year and list the most frequently visited ones. Basically, this is an effort to give you more of what you really want. I aim to please—all of the bloggers at Lady Smut do, as well.

Shut up and F—k Me

Interview with a Romance Cover Model

Readers: How Much Sex in Your Story

Five Gay Men I Lust After

Writer Dudes: Hot or Not?

Looks like our readers like to read about sex, men (gay or straight), and romance. Hmmm. Stay tuned, we have plenty more of all THAT coming your way. In the mean time, enjoy the blogs posts and don’t forget to subscribe.

 

Old Skool vs New: Consent in the Supernatural

17 Nov

by Kiersten Hallie Krum

Consent in romance can be a bit tricky to unpack given the less than vaunted history of rape fantasies and forced seduction in the genre. One of the most common slurs against the romance genre is that they are nothing more than “bodice rippers,” novels where the pristine heroine is “forced” to succumb to her older, more-experience lover as he reveals her untapped passion. I put forced deliberately in quotes because in such old skool romances, as we refer to them now, the heroine had to be portrayed first as a sexual innocent and then as only reluctantly “forced” into enjoying her sexuality through the hero’s overwhelming desire. She could only give into sex and enjoy it if the man gave her no other choice whether by overwhelming her with his desire or by actually overwhelming her. Kathleen E. Woodiwiss’ seminal The Flame and the Flower is the gold standard of this trope where the heroine is mistaken by the hero for being a prostitute and is “forced” into sex, almost blatantly raped under the guise of romance. Later, after he’s forced to marry her because she was innocent and genteel-born and he “ruined” her, she essentially falls in love with her rapist. Wonderful role-models for romance there.

Thankfully, romance has come a long way from those rape fantasy tropes. These days, if there’s force going on in a romance, it probably involves bindings…and is consensual. But that doesn’t mean the issue of consent has gone away and in fact it shows up most overtly in paranormal and urban fantasy romance novels. The question of consent hovers over stories with “fated” lovers, the trope in which the conflicted supernatural creature– whether vampire, wolf shifter, or honey badger–needs his (it’s almost always the male who is in need) fated mate in order to offset some horrible curse. The heroine often sacrifices her ability to consent in these situations: when the world is in peril from a curse, who is she to quibble over losing control of her “destiny”?

dark lover

The first installment of the crackalicious Black Dagger Brotherhood series involves this trope along with some class A stalking issues for “her protection” as does the original first installment of Kresley Cole’s (admittedly addictively awesome) Immortals After Dark series. As readers, we go with the flow of the story here, that this obsession of the hero for the heroine, one that forces her (no quotes here) to go along with what he wants for an immediate payment of equally supernatural orgasms, is “romantic” in its way since it evolves into a committed love relationship and often is part of the heroine’s own journey to her power, which either matches or eclipses the hero’s. Sure, it’s romantic to think of a lover compelled by forces beyond reason to love and need only one woman, the whole concept of “soul mate” in these cases taken to a supernatural conclusion. But is that really any different from an old-skool forced seduction that ends in a loving marriage? (Full disclosure: I’m actually a big fan of the “fated soul mates” trope, at least in fiction, but that makes me want to all the more deeply deconstruct them.)

a-hunger-like-no-other

Fellow Lady Smut blogger, Madeline Iva, and I touched upon this idea during last week’s Facebook release party for The Lady Smut Big Book of Dark Desires. In her novella in that anthology, Sexomnia, the heroine, Jenny, is possessed by a succubus demon who calls herself Jennifer. When Jenny sleeps, Jennifer comes out to play with a variety of partners with no gender barrier and no thought to Jenny’s own desires. Each night of excess leaves Jenny somewhere new in the morning with no memory of anything–or anyone–Jennifer did while she slept. In this, Jennifer is malevolent, evil, not because of her unapologetic sexuality, but because she’s removing Jenny’s power of consent.

This week’s episode of the deliciously creepy Sleepy Hollow, while admittedly not a romance, featured a succubus as the monster-of-the-week. Here there’s no question she’s entirely evil, sucking life and hearts from her victims in order to sustain a demon overlord. It’s safe to assume nobody consents to getting their heart sucked out.

On the urban fantasy show Lost Girl, Bo is a succubus fighting to understand and control her growing powers. She feeds off the sexual chi of her lovers (or are they victims?) who die when she takes too much of their life force. One of the (sadly) unique draws of the show is the stated lack of slut shaming toward Bo for her biological need to have sex to sustain her life force. But the issue of sexual consent for her partners is never outright addressed. (It’s safe to assume a lack of consent to her draining them of life.) When she trolls her neighborhood bar for potential partners, there’s never a question of whether or not, free of her succubus influence, those partners would choose to have sex with Bo. She’s hot and seductive so it’s assumed that anyone she chooses, male or female, will naturally be ready and willing to get it on.

But what if they’re not? Under the influence of her supernatural power, how would they know? Part of Bo’s power is the ability to control people outside of sex too through her influence on their libido and then make them forget what they did for and with her. How again is that different from a roofie in someone’s drink eliminating their ability to say no? And what about the dichotomy between what the body wants and what the mind knows better than to do? In the Lost Girl mythology, a succubus can arouse a man or woman’s body whether or not his or her mind objects. Any fidelity toward a significant other, for example, would have no significance regardless of the person’s otherwise clear-headed, uninfluenced wishes. Also, the succubus is traditionally female, likely in order to further invest female sexuality as something evil, but switch the genders and the issues of consent in this supernatural trope are even more obvious and possibly even more alarming.

DarkDesires

Click on image to buy!

Yeah, romances can just be an escape and urban fantasy/genre shows can just be fantastical camp. But does that erase the responsibility to at least be aware of how we’re playing with and perhaps influencing the consent issue in a pop-culture obsessed society? As we manipulate genre tropes and celebrate female sexuality in its many varied and wonderful embodiments, should we be more careful of addressing consent? Or doesn’t it matter when we’re writing or watching succubuses and vampires and that ever elusive honey badger in the first place?

Want a taste of a demonic succubus? Check out Sexomnia and the other sexy stories in The Lady Smut Book of Dark Desires, now available.

Follow Lady Smut. We’ll ask for your consent every time…and a safe word when needed.

I *Do* Need the Badges: A Brief Word on Uniforms

16 Nov
So how does that magic work?

So how does that magic work?

By Alexa Day

I had an encounter with several members of the law enforcement and first response community a while back. I’m not going into the details here. Let’s just say I didn’t touch any of them, and we’ll leave it at that.

Anyway, while I was involved with these folks, I couldn’t help but notice that a great many of them are hot.

What? I couldn’t help it. It’s my job to notice.

The firemen were hot. The police officers were hot. Perfectly professional, of course. But undeniably hot.

I had to wonder — and I promise that I was quietly wondering this out of harm’s way — what causes that. Certainly there must be average-looking police officers and paramedics and firemen out there somewhere. I mean, it’s not UPS, where I honestly believe they only hire hot people.

Do these particular clothes make the man … sexy?

I’m not altogether sure. But I think that when the allure of the man in uniform works, it works for a particular set of reasons.

The uniform is practically designed to exploit the male body. Piping lengthens legs. Epaulets draw out shoulders. That jacket seam goes all the way down the center of a man’s back. And the belt. A policeman’s belt makes it easier to watch his hips move. (The same principle applies for a belly dancer’s belt, by the way, except that my costume belts served few other purposes.) How often do we get to watch a man’s hips move?

Not often enough, my friends. Not nearly often enough.

I also wonder if the uniform causes a man to carry himself a little differently. I once ran across a gaggle of firemen hanging out on the sidewalk near an apartment building. They were all dressed fairly casually for firemen, in their fire department T shirts and leg-lengthening pants, waiting for some of their colleagues to finish testing the alarm system. But they were still hot, even without the turnout gear. (And if anyone has a better collective noun than “gaggle” for my purposes here, I’d love to hear it. Seriously.)

A uniform also comes with a built-in grant of authority. It identifies its wearer as the person in charge. He flies the plane. He catches criminals. He saves lives. He fights evil. And right now, he pays attention to you. That’s pretty heady stuff. I think it lies at the base of the uniform fetish, just before it blooms into a healthy appreciation for smooth, soft leather, shiny buttons, sharp creases, and all those hard, unyielding angles. I think the uniform sends a clear message about who is the boss of whom.

Most importantly — and least superficially, just to prove I can do that — there’s the fact that a man has to earn a uniform. If we see him out and about in uniform, we know right away that he’s done something to set himself apart from the rest of us. He’s done something important. He’s done something you needed done. He’s done something not everyone is able to do.

And the great part is that this facet of sexiness — the admiration — translates equally to women in uniform. All the pride, all the appreciation, none of that pesky desire for inappropriate touching. Everybody wins, right?

So right now, what I’m gonna need you to do is follow Lady Smut. That’s right. Just click the button over there, and we’ll take it from here, okay?

Sexy Saturday Round-Up

15 Nov

By Liz Everly and the Lady Smut Bloggers

LS Fb squareHello Sexy! We’ve got a great line up of blogs posts for your reading pleasure. This week: diamond vibrators, Kim Kardashian’s ass, and hot guys with kittens. Among other subjects. What more could you want?

From Liz:

Diamonds that vibrate—a girl’s best friend?

Historical romance writers: How do you assign your character a trade? Check out this resource.

Women Owning their Own Sexuality

From Madeline:

Dispatch from China: Life as a fake beauty Queen

9 Shit Things Single Girls Are Sick of Hearing 

What women look at when they look at Porn.

What? WHAT? 9 Celebs who are in open relationships.

From Elizabeth:

Say it isn’t so! Kim Kardashian’s ass pictures are fake.

The science is in. Guys who are good looking give women the best orgasms.

Dance like you think you’re alone. This guy did, and it’s awesome.

There’s just something about hot guys with kittens that will make your heart absolutely melt.

From Alexa:

Take time to mourn and consider these tips for when some trollop steals your celebrity boyfriend.

Film director is done with the term “black film.”

Fan fiction has been very, very good to some folks. Very good indeed.

Stay Hungry,

Liz

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