Monogamy, as they say, is for pussies: if you turn up the volume on your laptop and lean in real close to your screen you can hear the writers in today's roundup of some of our favorite moments from the sex blog scene shouting "More, more, more!" to anyone who might be listening. After all, why stop at one when you can have two or four or even more? Whether it's partners, orgasms or both, these writers know that three is definitely not a crowd—it's just the beginning of a really good time.
Join Chelsea Girl after the jump—because she's the girl to have when you're having more than one.
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Sex Blog Roundup
by Chelsea Girl
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I like the illusion of plenty, whether on a plate or in men's pants. On this November night, it was Nathan, not Zaytinya, who filled me up.
Zaytinya is a Mediterranean mezze/tapas restaurant with an encyclopedic menu. Everything sounds delicious when you're hungry - fresh sea scallops, braised rabbit, fried eggplant - and tapas restaurants rely on this principal for profit: tiny portions all but forbid sateity.
- For the Love of Cake and Cock
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I don't know whether I should call her or not. We have tried to get together the last couple of weeks, but our schedules have not been compatible.
She has a husband. Two kids. A business. Some college extension classes to attend.
And a really hot mouth that felt fucking great on my cock.
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I have agreed to accompany Bruce to a club called Le Trapeze, where I don't totally know what will happen. I only know it's a swing club where he would like to have sex in front of other people, and that he is willing to pay me triple what I normally make. I'm nervous about the whole idea, but he promised that if I met him for a drink he would ease my mind.
- Confessions of a College Callgirl
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Maude's Take on the Swing Club
About a year ago, Tim and I were lying in bed discussing fantasies. My biggest one is to be watched. Not necessarily having people stand around the bed as we go at it, but maybe to leave the blinds open one afternoon. Tim asked if I had ever been to a swing club. I hadn't. In fact, I had never wanted to go to one. It had negative connotations for me. Remember the infamous David Westerfield case? Well, in all honestly, that was the only time I had really ever heard of such places. But the more Tim and I talked about it, and the more Tim and I researched it, the more interested I became.
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London 3.3—Sophie Takes Three Lovers
Henri was breathing a little harder, attempting to keep himself composed as best he could, still very aware that we were by no means alone in the hotel bar, occassionally glancing over to the other side of the room, making certain no-one could see what was happening. Sophie simply smiled casually, continuing to make polite conversation with Kathryn, as her hand slid deftly up and down his erect cock, now jutting disgracefully from his open trousers, hidden only by the edge of the table at which we were sat. Opposite them, I was in a similar position, Kathryn's hand now firmly wrapped around my straining erection, masturbating me slowly as she watched Sophie caressing her husband's cock.
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Power
"You're getting what?!"
"A vasectomy."
"Donnie, that was more of a 'what the hell do you think you're doing' than a 'what did you say.'"
"Lexi, I have three daughters, and that's enough. You're not talking me out of this."
"Well," I conceded, "At least let me throw a farewell party for the last of your productive sperm."
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Perhaps because of the length of time our bodies had been locked together, I finally began to run dry.
"More lube," I begged breathlessly between thrusts, back over my shoulder, "get more lube."
That's what I thought I said, but he was lost in his own private world and didn't understand. His fingers sank deeper into my rounded hips as he slowed his movements. "What?"
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Previously: Sex Blog Roundup Archive