Were you misled by the Internet ?

There may be mediums more misleading than the Internet, but I've not found any. Consider the following excerpt, bravely signed anonymouslyⁱ by one "Audacia Ray" on October 4th, 2007.

To you, double penetration (affectionately known as DP) may seem like a porno circus trick. But the idea of getting filled up and stretched out has always appealed to me, and since group sex has moved from fantasy to common practice for me, I’m hungry for a new challenge.

Before starting, I talked to a longtime friend and dirty-adventure coconspirator with some personal experience. Jefferson, something of a New York playboy who records his exploits on his blog, One Life, Take Two, was the perfect go-to dude to help out with the mechanics. “My advice on position,” he advised, “is to regard one cock as the anchor, with its possessor reclining under the woman, with the second cock entering her from the rear.”

Worrying about keeping one flesh-and-blood dick happy and excited seemed tricky enough, so I arranged to borrow Jefferson’s girlfriend, Madeline (who also has a sex blog, MadelineintheMirrorⁱⁱ, and combine her with my boyfriend, Bobby D. And so on a sunny Sunday afternoon, while other East Village denizens were still waiting for tables at 7A, I was getting my nether orifices filled up by my boyfriend and a strap-on.

So now, at this point you think the Jefferson dude is pretty cool, right ? Something of a New York playboy ? That's like saying he's something of a double parker, isn't it. Everyone in New York is a playboy, starting with Woody Allen.

Let us then move on to said fractionary New York playboy's online mansion, perhaps we may learn something or other.

I had moved out of our home on Independence Day, a little over a month prior, moving into an apartment my father-in-law owned in Manhattan. I fully expected to be returning to our home in Yonkers eventually, once Lucy got over a rage that was now in its fourth month. She was calling for a divorce over a business trip I had made. I was confused, angry, bruised. Fifteen years, three kids and all that we had shared, and she was ready to jettison it all to win a fight.

If she was saying we were “finished,” as she so often had before, this time I would go. But this time, I resolved, I was going to have sex. Fifteen years of sexless monogamy capped by months of anger and the silent treatment had, I felt, given me permission. One day, when we were back together, I would’ve had some time in my life she wouldn’t know about, a secret: when you told me we were “finished,” I believed you. I was free to do whatever I wanted. So I got laid, finally. And now I have those memories as I masturbate, alone and secretively.

Only thing was: how?

That's it. Blogspot dutifully informs me that I am about to step into the dangerous mire of smut extraordinaire, collects its desperately needed confirmation clit and oops I mean click, and there I am! Smack drab in the middle of a somewhat of a New York playboy's online orgy.

A somewhat of a New York playboy that seeks permission. It boggles, doesn't it ?

A somewhat of a New York pLaYboY that has somehow not heard that any domestic dispute is resolved on the spot by ordering the wayward party on her knees, to be followed by filing divorce papers for failure to obey, should that be necessary. (I've not yet faced such necessity myself, but then again what do I know, I've never been one of these New York playboy dudes.)

At this point my dear reader, I am starting to suspect perhaps the Internet misleads. Were you ever misled by the Internet ?

1. This, believe it or not, is a learned reference. A classic romanian play, published in 1884 by Romania's greatest playwright and quite possibly only literate representative, includes the line "What do you mean you don't want to sign ? You have to be courageous, like me! We'll send it anonymously! [↩]
2. Which has been abandoned for half a decade by now. I did check out the latest article, and the following discussion ensued :
   Her Majesty the Queen
   

   It's one of the most common questions asked of me: What do you think of when you're masturbating?
   Generally, the answer is "Nothing."

   Cat. Cheshire Cat. Is this Stern or Heffner?

   Her Majesty the Queen Nah, some random chick. And which Stern ?
   Cat. Cheshire Cat. Why does some random chick present it like she's the fucking queen of england then? Howard.

   Her Majesty the Queen A. Well because Internet. And blogs.
   Cat. Cheshire Cat. O right.

   Her Majesty the Queen This is going in my article. Ty.
   Cat. Cheshire Cat. Lol np :D

   [↩]