Wednesday, May 29, 2013

Love Optional






Far to the north of the clanging slot machines, the zip-lining mid-westerners, and the nostalgic piss smell of Freemont Street, there lies a boutique with precisely spaced aisles, walls painted in fresh pastels, all of it painstakingly lighted like a Tiffany & Co. But they are not selling high-end jewelry here. They’re selling toys.


The Love Store is an adult toy store located on the north side of Las Vegas (you may have seen the billboards lining the freeways near the Spaghetti Bowl). As opposed to The Adult Superstore Strip-side—where the atmosphere is such that one immediately regrets wearing open-toe shoes—The Love Store is a clean, fresh environment for perusing pleasure purchases.


Involved since it opened in 1999 as Red Chrome, owner Edward Wheeler ensures the shoppers of Las Vegas get what they need in terms of erotic toys, sexy clothing, fetish materials, and videos. More helpful toward retail clients than nosy journalists, Wheeler says that customer service is what sets the store apart. “We are all about customer service and educating people about all the wonderful products that we carry,” he says. “We want everyone to have an enjoyable experience when they visit us.”


In the vein of education, my research assistant and I were aided by Niki Lynn, a shift lead who has worked at the The Love Store since October, 2012. Niki Lynn showed us how to test vibrators on the tips of our noses, as this simulates the sensitivity of the nether regions. Almost all of the vibrators the store carries feature testers displayed as prominently and neatly as cellphones at a Best Buy. 


Niki Lynn says that when it comes to helping customers find products that they’ll love, she listens to what the customer is looking for and offers them a few choices based on that information. “There certainly are a few toys we sell that are my favorite,” she says, “but everyone's body is different.”


The Love Store also features a video arcade with single and “buddy-style” viewing booths. However, you may want to ask the staff for instructions, as my research assistant and I found the controls to be less than user-friendly.


The Love Store is located at 4440 East Cheyenne Ave., Las Vegas, NV. 
 
Tell them T.A. sent you! 
 
Please e-mail me with your story ideas at SexyVegasTA@aol.com.
 
Stay Sexy!
—T.A.

Wednesday, May 15, 2013

The Erotic Heritage Museum




This Deep Throat movie poster is just
 one of thousands of the museum’s
original pieces of memorabilia.
If there is an ideal city in which to house a museum created to honor and preserve the history of sex, Las Vegas is it.  The Erotic Heritage Museum is a 17,000-square-foot treasure, housing thousands of pieces of memorabilia, artifacts, video exhibits and erotic art. Created in 2008 by a preacher and a pornographer, it is a sexual feast ranging from the mildly titillating to the downright wicked.

The museum’s new director of operations, Nick Karras, has a doctorate degree in Sexology from the Institute for the Advanced Study of Human Sexuality in San Francisco, CA.  Karras is also an erotic artist with an

Although more than a decade
 after the fact, a poster from 1975
illustrates how political affairs often
spilled over into the world of porn.
exhibit in the museum calle
d the Petals Project. Petals is a 48-panel collection of sepia-tone photographs of the female vulva, and the museum’s exhibit showcases 24 of the panels in its upstairs gallery.
Celebrating sexual diversity and individuality, there is a thread of pride in and protection of the first amendment that runs through the fabric of the two stories of exhibits.  Reproductions of art destroyed by Nazis is showcased, and there is an extensive exhibit dedicated to the contributions of Larry Flynt. 
In the upstairs gallery, a circular room features TVs along the walls showing such classics as Deep Throat, as well as silent porn from as far back as 1915, prompting the realization that as long as there has been film, there has been porn.

The Erotic Heritage Museum hosts workshops and lectures as well, and upcoming topics include mutual masturbation and an orientation to BDSM. The museum is located on Industrial Road, at home among the strip clubs and adult toy shops, but standing as a beacon of protection and reverence for such things as well.  
                                                    Visit the museum here.   
  
  


Recreated art from the Herschfeld
Institute in Berlin, Germany, which was
burned to the ground by Nazis in 1933.

A plaster cast shows the details of
Chasey Lain’s girl parts. (The hand,
 however, appears not to be hers.)
 



One of the museum’s more whimsical pieces,
this prom dress is made entirely of condoms.

 
 


Images from a Persian book of hand-drawn figures.
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

 
 
 
 

Numerous sculptures pay homage to the most interesting male appendage.

Comment below or email me at SexyVegasTA@aol.com

Stay Sexy!


— T. A.

Wednesday, May 8, 2013

The Green Door

This week, we're diving back into the world of fiction.  The following is an excerpt from my forthcoming novel. 

Melanie and James have been dating for a few months, and he has been challenging her to push the boundaries of her comfort zone.  They have been to the Green Door (a Las Vegas swingers/sex club) once before, but they only watched other couples play. The following is their second trip. 

                                              *          *          *

Before they got out of the car, she took a deep pull on James’ whiskey flask and cringed.
“Ok, let’s do this,” she said. She smiled at James, trying to convey a confident sexiness she did not yet possess, but she was hopeful.

She stood to the side and pretended to check her phone for messages while James paid the cashier.

“You ready?” he asked, opening the door.

She winked at him, then passed through the door and headed up the stairs. She wore a sun dress that came to her mid thigh, and she could feel his eyes on her backside.

When they got to the main room, a couple was already on display. The man was about Melanie’s age, with a thin build and very little body hair, but the woman looked to be in her twenties. The two were side by side on the bed, making out and warming each other up; he kissed her breasts while she stroked his penis, which was already erect.

The woman sat up on the bed and straddled the man, grabbing his erection and easing herself down on it. Her dark hair was beautiful against her pale skin, and her full breasts would’ve looked fake if they were any higher.

As she eased her weight onto him, there was a hush in the room. Melanie looked around at the figures standing in the shadows and snuggled into the couches lining the walls. There were probably thirty people watching, and there was a reverence to the scene. As the woman raised and lowered herself on the man’s erection, her audience was motionless, silent, afraid to break the spell. The woman’s pleasure was contagious, and when she tilted her head back, arching and grinding as she quickened her rhythm, Melanie could feel her own walls tighten deliciously.

When the woman slowed and bent to rest against the man’s chest, he wrapped his arms around her and rolled her onto her back.

Round two, Melanie thought.

“I want you.” James whispered. She closed her eyes and hummed her assent.

“I forgot the condoms,” he whispered, so as not to disturb the couples watching the show. “Will you be ok here? I’ll be right back. They sell them downstairs.”

She watched as the man inserted himself and the woman wrapped her legs around his thighs.

“I’ll be fine,” she said.

James squeezed her behind and left her with a smile on her face. The sexiness was creeping in, and with any luck, the confidence would follow.


 ...                                       

Melanie could see a dim band of light at the bottom of the blindfold, but that was all. She could feel the wall against her cheek and her palms. James was behind her with his hands on her hips whispering into her ear.

“Can you see?”

“No.”

“How do you feel?” he asked.

“A little scared. A little turned on too.”

“That’s my girl.”

He sucked on her ear, her neck. Then he turned her toward him and pulled the straps of her dress down, kissed her shoulders, her cleavage. He tugged the dress down to the floor and she held his shoulders as she stepped out of it. She felt the leather of his gloves on her back and held her breath as he undid her bra and slid it off. She pulled him toward her to cover herself. He kissed her for a moment, then pulled away again. He hooked his thumbs into the sides of her panties, and those came off too.

She could hear people, but she couldn’t see anything. She heard the shuffling of feet, whispering, but no one was speaking loud enough for her to discern the words. There was an aura of reverence, like what she’d seen in the main room. And now all eyes were on her.

She was naked. And blind. And wet.

He turned her around and ran his gloved hands up and down her back, over her backside, between her legs. He removed his hand and she heard him moan with approval.

“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” she admitted.

“Are you ready?”

“Yes.”

He parted the strings of beads that surrounded the bed and bent her over so that her hands were on the bed and her feet on the floor. He pressed his chest against her back, kissed her cheek and neck, slid his gloved hands over her nipples. His crotch was pressed against her backside and she could tell he was ready too.

“I want you to really enjoy this,” he whispered into her ear. “I want you to pay attention to your senses, to the sensations. Once I’m inside you, I’m not going to say a word. I recommend you don’t either. Can you do that?”

“I’ll try.”

“Good girl.”

“I want you inside me. Now.”

He swatted her butt and she moaned, wiggling her behind. “Be patient,” he said.

And then the gloves were gone. His erection pressing through his slacks against her rear end was gone. His breath on her neck was gone. And she felt even more naked than she was, as if he had peeled away her skin. Anyone on any side of her had an unobstructed view. Each eye on her was a needle she couldn’t see, pricking her skin and making her shiver. She couldn’t guess how many there were, but it felt like thousands. As though she was in the center of the Roman Coliseum itself, a hushed crowd looking on in anticipation. She was the center of lustful attention. And she liked it.
 
                                                   *          *          *
 
 
James left Melanie watching the couple in the main room and went back downstairs to where the club sold novelties. There was a guy at the counter buying condoms, and as James walked through the store, another guy came in, grabbed some condoms and went to the register. James assumed a friendly tone, clasped his hands behind his back and approached them.
 
“Hey, either of you guys wanna get laid?”
They both eyed him warily. The one at the counter paying said, “I don’t swing that way, man,” and turned away.
“No, not me,” said James with a polite laugh. “My girlfriend. She’s upstairs. She’s horny and she’s hot.”
“So why don’t you do her?” the one at the counter asked. He was about two inches shorter than James and his skepticism was going to be a roadblock James didn’t have time for. But he could use it.
He turned to the taller of the two men, who happened to be about James’ own height. “It’s her fantasy to be fucked by a stranger and never see his face. Interested?”
The shorter guy spoke first, “I’m in.”
“No offense, but mind if I ask what you’re packing? She likes a certain size.”
“Seven,” he said.
James turned to the taller of the two, who still hadn’t spoken a word.
“Eight,” he said.
James shrugged at the first guy. “Sorry, man. Eight is what she likes.”
The shorter man took his condoms and profaned his way back upstairs.
James floated around the store, picking up what he needed. He went back to the guy he’d chosen and said, “All you have to do is wear a condom and gloves and not say a word. Can you do that?”
“No problem.”
“Can you fuck and come without making any sound?”
“I lived in the dorms in college.”
James nodded. “Good enough.”
He took the condoms from the guy and paid for them along with the rest of his paraphernalia. He knew if he didn’t pull this off there would be hell to pay, the depths of which he hadn’t had the time or inclination to consider fully. He hadn’t thought about what she might do, and it occurred to him that this poor bastard he’d chosen could get hurt if she freaked out on him. Then again, even if this guy knew the risk, James imagined he’d be willing to take that chance. And if it went off without a hitch—if she never suspected that it wasn’t James having sex with her—this, he knew, would be immensely gratifying.
                                                   *          *          *
 
Thanks for reading.  Please comment below.  And don't forget to follow me on Twitter @sexyvegasta for fun, sexy tweets. Until next week...
Stay Sexy!
— T. A.
 

Wednesday, May 1, 2013

Park & Ride


This week's post is by guest writer, Flirtive Pervert. He enjoys making pancakes from scratch, long walks on the beach, and temporarily freeing bitches from confining kennels. He would never use a choke chain on dog, but he has a special one picked out for you. Follow him on Twitter @flirtivepervert.



 Park & Ride

One problem with infidelity is finding an appropriate place to play.
T's husband, “The Captain,” owns a Chevy Avalanche, which is a superior platform for vehicular lovemaking. The expansive back seat allows for all manner of positions, and the dry cleaning handle is perfectly situated for securing T's hands. The back seats fold down and the entire bed is encased by a protective top. With foam pads and blankets, “The Captain’s” Avalanche becomes the ultimate carnal nest.
He is out of town and his truck is unavailable, and unfortunately her slacker brother occupies a bedroom in her house. We have to settle on her Cadillac CTS. The expensive luxury sedan makes a suitable substitute to get our freak on.
It is not the first, second or even third time we have fooled around in her car. Four nights earlier she sucked me to a hat-trick worth of climaxes in fifteen minutes. She wrapped her lips around the base of my member and her mouth and tongue got me off with back-to-back-to-back money shots. No teasing, no edging, no delay because I knew the perils of parking lot promiscuity.
Inhibitions, insecurities and interruptions are an ever-present hazard when one is engaging in impromptu public intercourse.
This evening we are in an isolated commercial complex. After business hours, the place is deserted. We had parked in a different section on a previous occasion in the Avalanche. The illicit session of screwing was disrupted when a pair of guys collecting scrap metal in a pickup caught us mid-coitus. They drove by wide-eyed and slack-jawed as T rode me.
Tonight we have chosen a location away from the main entrance. The back seat and dark tint of the CTS's windows provide us with privacy. She's had a medley of orgasms already, but I have been edging for close to an hour. Despite throat-gagging fellatio, and intercourse in a variety of positions, I refuse to come.
Confident in the security of our location and having not ejaculated since our last tryst, I have held out on spilling my seed. She's tried to make me climax, but I've backed away from the edge every time.
I'm holding out to give an epic facial.
She leans back, legs splayed open while my face occupies a position between them. I finger, lick and slurp while she pulls at the back of my head, her hips bucking.
She moans, “Uhh, uhh, uhhh, uhhhhh — a cop car just drove in the entrance.”
The abrupt interruption does not faze me. “It's dark. That's a long way away, are you sure it was a cop car?” My lips, face and fingers are covered in her vaginal liquids. I'm in the zone and don't want to quit now.
“There were lights on top and it said 'Metro' on the side of it.”
Whoops.
“It's all right. The windows are tinted. Hard to see into the car in the dark. Besides he might not even come by here.” My cool logic and continued ministrations mollify her and she allows me to bring her to one more head-clamping climax.
We switch positions, I lay back against the door with my legs spread.
“I don't know about this. What about that cop car?” she asks, hesitating. I hold my stiffened penis by the base and point with maximum extension. The sight of my swollen cock is too much and she takes it into her mouth and maneuvers herself onto the seat next to me so I can finger her while she blows me. With my left hand, I reach out and start teasing and fingering her ass. She moans around me as I grab her head with my right. Holding her hair by the extempore topknot formed with a hair tie, I moan with delight as she gags on my penis. I can feel the come welling up as I prepare to deliver that epic facial.
That's when I see them.
It is dark, the Cadillac's windows are tinted and the figures are a good distance away. Still, I know immediately what I am seeing. I volunteer in animal rescue and walk and train dogs almost every day. It's how I met T.
Two Metro K-9 officers in green jumpsuits are walking toward the car. One is holding a long leash while a German Shepherd patrols, sniffing. I know how keen the large ears are at sensing even the faintest of sounds. It is impossible to sneak up on them because of their keen sense of hearing. Every year at the Orleans casino they hold demonstration trials for working dogs. I've seen the shepherds track the paths that their quarry have taken and find dropped items with their keen noses. They've been bred and trained to detect the presence of humans through scent and sound. And now this canine human detector is walking toward our car.
She feels me stiffen and knows instinctively that it's not because I’m going to come. She removes my dick from her mouth and says, “What?”
I put my finger up to my lips and hold my breath as I watch the police officers approach. Heart thumping in my chest, my mind races as I try to think of what we are going to say when the dog alerts on the vehicle and the officers come over to investigate.
Oh, the adulterous shame.
I mentally practice the speech I will make when they drag us out of the Cadillac.
Please officer, my wife cannot find out!
Miraculously, the dog pays no attention to us, and the cops walk by without noticing our back seat bacchanalia.
T moves out from between my legs and starts putting her pants back on.
“Wait a minute,” I say. “What about me? I haven't come yet.”
“That sounds like a personal problem. You had plenty of chances.”
I use my rock-hard penis as bait to attract her mouth again but the near run-in with the law has killed any chance of T continuing.
“Please? They've already gone by.”
“No way. We need to get out of here, stat.”
I exit the Cadillac and get back into my own vehicle. Before she can drive away, I take a picture of my engorged penis and send her a text, “C'mon babe. We can meet at the other spot. You are so hawt!
“headed home, comes her curt reply.
plz, No one will be around, I beg.
She responds with a picture of her own. In it, she's licking her fingers. I inhale the musky smell of her womanhood still clinging to my hands and beard.
The smell makes my swollen penis ache.
---------------------------------
Thanks for reading, and if you have a sexy story you'd like to share, email me at SexyVegasTA@aol.com.  You can follow me on Twitter @SexyVegasTA
Stay Sexy!
— T.A.