Here’s some pictures of my The Sims 2 characters.Jillian is one of my favourites, she’s cheeky but also very straight and innocent. Alas, she finds life in the city is a lot trickier than she ever expected. This pic shows what can be done with lighting and a bit of post-production colour balancing. I’d love to have a hairdo like that for a change, but where to wear it (apart from a production of Hairspray?) This lady really is called Gladys, she lived in a cosy flat above her shop in my parents’ neighbourhood. The lady in period costume is meant to be a ghost but I couldn’t quite make her transparent. Kevin is a student who lives in an old house, cheap rent because people say it’s haunted.
Monthly Archives: September 2012
I’ve got a new gravatar – I’m not trying to be rude by turning my back, but was just reminded that it mightn’t be safe to publish my face or anything that could identify my family. So for the public, I’m just a lady living somewhere in Australia. If you become my friend you might find out more.
This is just my backyard Hills hoist (that’s an Australian clothesline), today. Usually it’s full of children’s things, with Mum’s hidden on the inside rows, but today was time to catch up with my own laundry before the rain starts. It’s spring here, though this picture doesn’t look it.
And it’s school holidays so I’ve got Sue home to help and kids playing outside to make the place lively.
Back in 1896 the American feminist Alice Stockham wrote a little book called Karezza, Ethics of Marriage about love and the practicalities of sex.
The ordinary hasty spasmodic method of cohabitation, for which there has been no previous preparation, and in which the wife is passive is alike unsatisfactory to husband and wife. It is deleterious both physically and spiritually. It has in it no consistency as a demonstration of affection, and is frequently a cause of estrangement and separation.
Karezza so consummates marriage that through the power of will, and loving thoughts, the crisis is not reached, but a complete control by both husband and wife is maintained throughout the entire relation.
At the appointed time, without fatigue of body or unrest of mind, accompany general bodily contact with expressions of endearment and affection, followed by the complete but quiet union of the sexual organs. During a lengthy period of perfect control, the whole being of each is merged into the other, and an exquisite exaltation experienced. This may be accompanied by a quiet motion, entirely under subordination of the will, so that the thrill of passion for either may not go beyond a pleasurable exchange. Unless procreation is desired, let the final propagative orgasm be entirely avoided.
With abundant time and mutual reciprocity the interchange becomes satisfactory and complete without emission or crisis. In the course of an hour the physical tension subsides, the spiritual exaltation increases, and not uncommonly visions of a transcendent life are seen and consciousness of new powers experienced.
If Dr Stockham’s language is a bit too discreet for modern readers, this is what I think she meant:
After some romantic foreplay, the girl takes her lover’s unsheathed penis into her vagina. They hold still, while kissing and caressing gently as they talk intimately. Or they can make some slow careful movements, trusting each other to stop whenever the boy is close to ejaculating. This could go on for hours. Eventually he relaxes and his erection will go down without any need for an ejaculation.
Maybe, with practice, a girl can even have an orgasm like this, and her partner can calmly enjoy every sensation of her melting beneath him. But if they both go without an orgasm, they have still had so much of the other kind of sexual pleasure!
By this pure ideal a profound reverence for all of nature’s mysteries and unfathomable secrets is developed; a conservation of energies is accomplished; while through the baptizing consecration of thought, the generative organs are redeemed from the desecration of the past, and their powers and functions justly and wisely appropriated.
This conservation of power is both possible and effective for the unmarried.
I like that last sentence! My only doubt is that Dr Stockham thought that karezza was a perfect form of birth control (barring accidents) by itself. Now we know that a guy always lets go a few drops of semen long before his orgasm: he can’t help it, and I think he doesn’t feel it. So if you want to try this, please, please make sure you’re safe. And if the male partner is still learning, a condom might give him confidence about self-control, too. 🙂
A long-established swimsuit and underwear company began the trend with their leopardskin-print men’s bathers. (Just what is it about the leopardskin pattern that’s supposed to be sexy? Did guys of previous generations like to play Tarzan at the beach?) Later their designers used the print for daring underpants, and over the years their range expanded to other animal skin prints, even snake skin, in various colours.
Suddenly the shock value become fashionable with the young bucks, and they produced bathers in fish scale patterns, and octopus tentacles in livid blues and greens. These were hot sellers, at least for one summer. Next season one designer dreamed up gooier patterns for the teen market. Graphic patterns of flayed musculature had a short vogue among the rich and decadent, even appearing in the dormitories of the most select boys’ school. Then it was armour of shiny insect-like segments, and the previous year’s octopus was reinvented as a stylized pattern of suckers-and-eyes. A season later these had become a mosaic of glaring eyes, and simple worm segments in maggot white or verdigris blue.
“Our boy’s bought himself some new underpants, of all things. With his own pocket money, too.
“Leopardskin, or something like that I suppose. It’s supposed to be the latest thing among the teenagers.
“Worse than that! They’re in a segmented pattern like some grisly graveworm.
“What’ll they think of next?
“That’s the fashion. They have them with little beady eyes on each ring, or two big staring eyes, anything to look horrific.
“Maggot britches”, exclaimed a disdainful young miss. But something analogous was devised for girls too young to wear the voluptuously flowering underfashions of the over-18s or the grownup girdles embroidered in patterns that hinted at the womb within. That year, girls’ undies featuring roes masses, toad spawn or even an embryonic face were scary reminders to any swain who succeeded in glimpsing them. Hexagon-tiled fabrics with wasp faces glaring from some cells, or mosaics of fanged mouths, gave an even blunter warning.
“You wouldn’t want to touch them for fear of getting bitten.”
“Well, we’re not supposed to be touchable in our undies, are we?” was the unanswerable retort, justifying a flirty fashion as a protection of virtue.
By the spring, variations on the fad had reached the outer suburbs. A stand at the Agricultural Show had racks of T-shirts in last year’s snake and insect patterns, while guffawing lads around the novelty stall dared each other to buy the plump white worm balloons that even had short orange antennae.