You found the perfect woman – she’s intelligent, attractive, has a great sense of humor, and is a deeply sexual being with few obnoxious family members to enter and ruin your life – but there remains one problem: she loves to travel and you’re a aviophobic homebody who can’t get on a plane post-9-11 unless heavily medicated and heading to Vegas. How to keep the flame burning so brightly when you can’t join her on a fucking tour of Central Europe or a trip to Nepal to simultaneously orgasm on a Himalayan mountaintop or receive the blowjob of your life behind Musee d’Orsay, now that’s a challenge you’ll be thrilled to hear can be tackled with sex.
According to therapist and former airline pilot, Tom Bunn, one key to dampening the anxiety caused by airplane travel could be sex. Bunn, who created the SOAR program to address flight phobias, told of a male client whose flying anxiety made every trip miserable, until he spent one pre-flight evening between the thighs of a newfound sexual partner, staying up late into the night to enjoy their physical pairing. The result was an anxiety-free flight, Bunn says, brought on by increased levels of oxytocin, a nonapeptide hormone generated in the hypothalamus to quell fear and trepidation, replacing them with calmer, more satisfied feelings. Sparked during foreplay, oxytocin offers what Bun calls a “sexual afterglow” and this can be recalled during times of stress, countering anxious thoughts and traumatic memories with, say, the mental image of your partner smiling back at you after roaring through some mighty wild sex.
Unfortunately, Bunn isn’t actually proposing sex on airplanes, instead suggesting the an enjoyable romp the night before a flight should be enough to tackle any unsettling ideas about air travel you might have. And, if not, just make sure to time your lavatory entrances well and don’t be discovered getting it on at 28,000 ft – at least not until you’ve both finished and basking in the toasty afterglow.
Kagney Linn Karter and Kendra Lust in Tittyfuck Airlines @ Brazzers site Big Tits At Work
When it’s 3am and you’re stumbling half-drunk down Second St, failing to flag down a taxi and unable to wrangle your Uber app into doing what it’s supposed to, convenience store giant 7-11 is an absolute god send. When you’re blazing with your buddies and dream up a liquid concoction involving Mountain Dew, Miller Lite, and the extracted juices of a nine-hour-old hot dog, again 7-11 saves the day. But when you’re unable to supplant yourself from wherever it is you’re doing whatever it is you’re doing – say, it’s going well with a new ladyfriend over drinks at your apartment when you both start getting pangs of hunger – a brick-and-mortar location can’t provide a truly convenient service, unless…
Braving new territory in the realm of corporate retail convenience chains, 7-11 has announced that four of its largest markets (Manhattan, Brooklyn, Los Angeles, and Chicago) will now be able to order pre-packed products for home delivery. First up, packs devoted to Game Day, Endurance, and the Sniffles aimed respectively at augmenting the thrill of your favorite Big Game™, priming you for peak athletic performance, and aiding your recovery from a mild cold. The last of the four packs making leading the charge for 7-11’s new endeavor, which spokeswoman Margaret Chabris told the New York Daily News will “redefine convenience,” are far more suited to Mr. Pink’s readership than those just mentioned. 7-11’s Date Night Pack brings the purchaser Ben & Jerry’s Chocolate Chip Cookie Dough Ice Cream, a can of Red Bull (for staying power!), a Hershey’s chocolate bar (to boost your already heightened libidos), and, most importantly, some Trident gum and a trio of Trojan Ultra Thin condoms to ensure the only thing you’re passing to each other is the quickly emptying tub of Ben & Jerry’s. And, if the two of you hit the sauce while getting saucy (and assuming she stayed over) 7-11’s Hangover Pack should soothe what ails ya (along with some nice, slow good-morning recovery sex) with extra-strength Acetaminophen, Fruit Punch Gatorade, a Smoked Turkey and Pepper Jack Sandwhich, and, the most crucial item of all, one large Pepperoni Pizza direct from the reliably questionable oven rack at your nearest participating 7-11 location.
The cost of 7-11’s ultra-convenient home-delivered packs run from just $9.75 for the Endurance to $25 for Game Day with Date Night and Hangover sitting at $20 and $15 each. Throw in $2 for delivery and you’re looking at a whole new level of near-instant gratification to augment your Earthly search for happiness. Kudos, 7-11. Kudos to you.
Once again courting controversy and enraging anti-sex activists across the USA, Cosmopolitan, the women’s magazine with distribution in 110 countries around the world, decided “Have Hotter Sex This Summer” and “4 Scary Things Gynos Tell You and Why You Shouldn’t Wig Out” weren’t exciting enough stories and opted to recommend some porn to their overwhelmingly female readership, porn Cosmo felt would be a good fit for female viewers. Of course, reactionary anti-sex groups immediately called the publication itself an item of pornography and demanded it be removed from super market shelves or wrapped in a black mylar sleeve so as not to infect the eyes and minds of tots as their parents unload two cartfuls of carcinogenic soda-pop onto the checkout belt. In solidarity with the oppressed Cosmo staff and readership, Mr. Pink’s is staging this silent – as in written, not spoken – protest. (And also, you know, checking out Cosmo’s recs and seeing how they fare on the ol’ Pink-O-Meter).
Cosmo writer Jill Hamilton and graphic artist Lauren Ahn concocted their guide to female-friendly porn is the hopes of (according to Ahn’s rating meter graphic) turning women away from Ron Jeremy and his ilk and towards James Deen and the new generation of adventurous pornographers. After proffering free sites (and irresponsibly sidestepping the wealth of piracy and copyright problems plaguing the industry) and Tumblr feeds (erotic literature, female orgasm guides) of little use to anyone keen to avoid unbearably pretentious “literotica”, Hamilton brought us to sites more commonly identified as commercial pornography that she felt a good fit for Cosmo’s readers. The list, while not exactly throwing out a bevy of surprises, features some stellar adult sites that also come with Mr. Pink’s glowing recommendation.
Masturbation sites I Feel Myself and Beautiful Agony, both by Feck of The Netherlands, garnered raves for their incredible intimacy and drastically different approach to visual arousal, earning 4-out-of-5 each on the Jeremy-to-James hotness scale. Erika Lust of Lust Cinema’s viewer-submitted fantasy site, X-Confessions also caught the attention of Hamilton for its short films conceived by women. Beautiful cinematography an performers give a classy feel to X-Confessions, which also earns a 4 from Cosmo. Curiously, Kink is also noted as a must-see but given a non-rating of 1-5; “They’ll probably have what you want and other things you didn’t know you wanted may end up in your cart as well,” Hamilton writes. The clear winner, though – and this will hardly surprise anyone who’s discussed porn with a woman under 60 in the past five years – is Mr. Deen himself, his official site scoring a perfect 5 for giving this particular journalist the feeling of being “vicariously well-fucked,” and left with “a mysterious glow the rest of the day.”
James Deen, Cosmo’s cure for the sexually frustrated woman in your life… whether you like it or not.
James Deen review