Hey, Justin here again. Arrived yesterday at my first Justin World Pussy Tour stop of Los Angeles, and trust me — this city is much better once you have money. Staying at the Mondrian and hanging with my buddies Larry and Phil who are more than happy to pick up my leftovers — just kidding guys. Last night we were at Sky Bar, and I don’t think I have ever seen a larger selection of hot chicks in one place. I am falling easily into my new role as young wealthy entreprenuer (even though i’m still fucking clueless as to how I actually made my own money), and girls eat it up. We started out chatting up a nice group of MAW’s (Model/Actress/Whatever), and I became fixated on a hot brunette we’ll call Amy (I won’t be using real names of girls on here — that would be uncouth). Amy was among the legions of aspiring Snooki’s, but she had a bit higher of an IQ. After regaling her with stories of my investing prowess (ha ha), she was more than eager to accompany me down to my suite.
Amy had the honor (or dishonor as the case may be) to be my first conquest within the Pussy Tour — and she performed consummate to this coveted designation as the first fuck on my adventure. She was 22, brunette and built for speed. I’m not positive, but I actually think her tits were real — which is quite a novelty around these parts. In reality, I was quite affectionate with her and felt bad when it came time to blow her off — but it had to be done. I made up some shit about one of my friends back at Sky Bar being about to be deployed to Afghanistan, and I dutifully entered her number into my phone (quickly deleted thereafter). It was only midnight — plenty of time left during night #1 for a second target. I didn’t want to go back up to Sky Bar for fear of running back into Amy, so I texted Phil (Larry had already departed with some skank back to his place in Huntington Beach) and we went off in search of new pastures.
After pulling out of the Mondrian in my rented Ferrari 360 (shout out to the guys at RentInStyle.com), we pulled up at the first red light next to two babes who were immediately attracted to our perceived wealth (in reality Phil doesn’t have a proverbial pot to piss in). Having already had a brunette that evening, I selected the blonde of the two (who was Phil to argue), and I graciously got Phil his own room so he didn’t have to take his chick back to his crappy apartment. We’ll call conquest #2 Cindy — and she is now curled up naked under the 400 count Egyptian cotton sheets in my bed as I sit and have my morning coffee writing this post. I figure I’ll be a nice guy and let her blow me one more time before she gets blown off.
Stay tuned for further adventures — next stop is, of course, Vegas!
My name is Justin, and I’ve agreed to take over posting here at Casual Encounters. Let me start by sharing a bit of my story. I’m 27 and grew up here in the San Francisco (East Bay) area. I did so-so in high school and ended up dropping out of college during my sophomore year (a bit too drinking and carousing). I got a job as a server at a national family dining restaurant chain (surely you’ve eaten at one, but I won’t disclose which) and worked hard resulting in a promotion to manager last year. This area is quite expensive, and my $50,000 a year earnings hardly allowed me to live in the lap of luxury. However, I was getting by and was able to set aside just over $12,000 in savings — which was quite a difficult task. I’m ordinarily not very good with money — all i know how to do is spend it — so I just let my money sit in a savings account earning almost nothing in the form of interest.
Around 6 months ago, one of my best buddies from college (the little time I was there) approached me about a company he wanted to start. He was always a major software geek, and candidly, I still don’t understand anything about what he does. However, I did trust him and had confidence in his ability — so I said what the fuck and invested $10,000 with him figuring I wasn’t earning anything on it sitting in my savings account. To make a long story short, my buddy landed a major client and suddenly all sorts of large investors were interested in his company. I was shocked when one of these investors offered me over two million dollars for my shares, and even though my buddy told me I was getting screwed at that price — I jumped on it. Yes, I’m still pinching myself.
This was several weeks ago, and my first thought was to invest it for retirement and continue working hard at my job. That thought quickly evaporated, and after only two days of work after coming into this money I said fuck it and quit. I’ve decided to take a year off and do what I do best — party and chase pussy. You’re only young once, right? So I’ve agreed to share my exploits on Casual Encounters in order to create a record of my travels for posterity. Women of the world — look out — Justin is coming.
South Beach in Miami is one of the premiere adult playgrounds in the world, and within South Beach the Versace Mansion serves as a focal point where debauchery meets fashion. This property was originally named Casa Casuarina, and it was the home of famed designer Gianni Versace up until the day of his death — on which he was tragically shot within feet of the mansion’s front gate. Subsequent to his killing, the mansion was converted into a private club and provides for a venue for some of South Beach’s most hedonistic events. The above video encapsulates just a taste of the action happening at this hotspot on a nightly basis.
Guys looking to hook up with some of the hottest women on the planet flock to South Beach, and in addition to the Versace Mansion, there are quite a few spots to see and be seen. At B.E.D. restaurant, diners are provided with their own (curtained and private) bed allowing for a mix of dining and playing, and Tantra mixes aphrodisiac-laden food with exotic belly dancers. Recently, the CEO of a large German pharmaceutical company sued the South Beach hotel he was staying at complaining that partiers had entered his room and started an orgy without his permission — a service one would think a hotel would charge extra for.
Airlines reward their most frequent fliers with gold and platinum member status, however, the club most male fliers wish to join is the Mile High Club. This video explores this phenomenon which has taken on almost mythical status with many guys. The combination of sex, logistical challenges and the forbidden nature of having sex on an airplane makes this endeavor one of the most coveted notches in the belts of sex fiends the world over. Seeing that most commercial airliners fly over 30,000 feet in altitude, it is actually the Six Mile High Club — many have had sex a mile high during trips to Denver, Mexico City or other high-altitude cities.
The video provides perspective from former airline workers who have witnessed couples trying to pull off this act while still in the cabin — a feat not easily accomplished. Consequently, many couples attempt to surreptitiously escape to the lavatory for a quick fuck — an environment which is hardly romantic nor sanitary. Movie stars, professional athletes and investment bankers can afford to own or charter their own jet which makes joining this club quite easy, but for the rest of us it proves to be far more of a challenge. However, you still have hope — the video describes a special airline which exists solely to facilitate sex in the air. In a way, this removes much of the illicit appeal of the Mile High Club — but it does get you into the club without having to balance on a dirty metal sink.
Looking for a vacation where naked chicks are guaranteed? Bare Necessities has been organizing clothing optional vacations for over two decades, and they feature upscale travel options for people who enjoy being naked. Bare Necessities has a full schedule this summer including a plethora of exciting destinations and resorts. The Star Clipper sets sail on August 21st and includes stops in Greece, Turkey, Cypress and Egypt — providing for an educational combination of world history and the anatomy of your fellow travelers. The Royal Clipper is scheduled to sail on June 25th, and this cruise includes stops in mainland Italy, Sicily, Montenegro and Croatia. Additional cruises are scheduled for the Fall and during the 2010 Winter Holiday break.
Once on board, Bare Necessities provides seminars and entertainment geared for those who enjoy the nudist lifestyle. Examples include couple’s massage, tantric sex, meditation and Yoga. Passengers are encouraged to get naked at all times except for meals, cocktail receptions and when docked in port. Bare Necessities also organizes land-based vacations. For those for whom Hedonism is too tame, Bare Necessities can arrange fully naked travel to Negril and Rio Bueno in Jamaica, and to clubs in St. Maarten and Bonnaire in the Caribbean. If you’re looking for something different for your next vacation — this might be for you.
Does it bother you that the phrase “blow job” describes something that involves no blowing at all? Wouldn’t “suck job” be a more accurate description here? We had to find out what was going on.
The real tipping point for the phrase being commonly use was Andy Warhol’s 1963 film, “Blow Job.” It was a silent portrayal of a dude receiving the act in the title for 35 minutes. That is apparently the whole flick, and the IMDB page for it only credits “the giver” and “the receiver” as appearing. After this movie, ‘blow job’ started to appear in dictionaries and the rest is history.
During the 1940s and 50s in America, extremely fast airplanes were affectionately called blow jobs because anyone near the place of take off received a blow job. (Not literally you fiends, we mean their hair was blown back.)
Some experts believe the phrase developed from the phrase to “blow off” as in to blow off steam. Hookers in the 1930s would offer to “blow you off” meaning that they would release the steam of your arousal, or cool you down.
Another possibility goes back even further to 18th century Europe, where a prostitute was known as a “blower.” The reason for this is that a slang term for a penis at the time was a “whorepipe,” and the prostitute playing the instrument was the blower.
It is hard to point to one of these as the exact point where the phrase started, but it is interesting to look back on the things we all take for granted sometimes. Plus it just sounds better than suck job anyway.
Now this is what I call innovation! Bedpost is an app currently in its beta stages that lets you track your sex life online. It is completely private and has no social networking features. However, there is word that it will eventually include a notification if a partner logs in, but there will still be no communication or viewing of other people’s profiles.
The application works in a calendar view, and lets you tag things by time of day, day of week, how long it lasted, and more. You can also add your own tags to track more, uh, “descriptive” things like what was done, what devices were used, positions, and all that good stuff.
If used over time, there could actually be some interesting information gathered out of this. For example, looking at weekend hookups only, are you more likely to get lucky on a Friday or a Saturday? When it comes to weekday dates, which day of the week is most successful? Even if you have a steady partner, you can track your performance and learn whether you do better in the morning or at night, on what day, with which foreplay, and so on and so forth.
On the one hand, it seems a little like a novelty, but when you really think about it, this can be a useful little app. If you are honestly getting some regularly, that can be hard to keep track of! Well pretty soon, we could have a solid solution for that.
Sometimes an old fashioned score needs to be settled between friends. That is all that is going on here and the beauty of the request lies in its simplicity: friends can’t see friends’ penises, friends’ girlfriends can’t see friends’ penises, so there is a problem in need of a solution.
Seems easy enough, but there are some issues raised that need to be explored. First of all, there is the problem that the measurements are to be done individually and that is understandable as it would be, like, totally gay to whip out the cocks in the same room. However, this places way too much trust in the measuring girl. All kind of sparks have been known to fly when shlongs get whipped out with a guy and girl in a room together. This can lead to favoritism and inaccurate reporting of the measurements. There would need to be another, independent girl playing the role of penis measuring “auditor”. Call her the KPMG girl.
Assuming KPMG girl has to be paid also, the question of how much is this measurement worth comes up. We want to know what is the bet between the two original friends worth? If it is just an argument, as they state, they would have to put some of their own betting stakes on the contest to offset the costs of measuring girl and KPMG girl. That’s just basic economics. Once all that is settled, my friends, you have cleared the way for a proper penis measuring contest.
Many claim that the Internet has triggered the decline of journalism, and news is now filled with useless tripe concerning celebrities, scandals and White House party crashers. However, one intrepid journalist is showing that quality and informative news content can still be created — even on the Internet. The above clip provides much needed illumination and detail about the perspectives of recent college girl grads when it comes to taking it up the ass. There is no doubt that this topic is of great importance to many men, and modern norms have now allowed anal play to even enter the realm of casual hook-ups.
The interview above indicates that the newest generation of women are amenable to having anal sex, although it “really hurts” even when high. One claims the pain was so intense that she passed out — possibly indicating a good strategy for guys to deal with girls who never shut up. The subjects of this interview — when asked why they think guys are always asking to put it up their butt — theorized that the answer must relate to the tightness of this particular orifice. She then comes to the epiphany that her ass wasn’t created for cocks to be put up it — an assertion which many men would disagree with. Further insights included the importance of lube and a solution to the intractable political situation in the Middle East.
From the Department of No Shit at the University of Iowa comes a new study with an unnecessarily verbose title of “The Contexts of Sexual Involvement and Concurrent Sexual Partnerships”. This groundbreaking report has now quantified that those who have a proclivity for random hook-ups are more likely to have multiple sex partners as opposed to those in monogamous relationships. Without these brilliant academics to guide us, who’d have thought that random hook-ups with the babysitter, bartender or barrista presents for increased risk of “concurrency for both members of sexual dyads”. Translated from Douchebag to English, this means that if you sleep around a lot then you might become a slut!
The daunting academic research behind this shocking thesis was led by Dr. Anthony Paik working with a team of fearless researchers willing to immerse themselves within the sordid world of the Gen-X hook-up crowd. This highly relevant report (utilizing 1995 data on 783 Chicago-area straight adults) now proves that, as of 15 years ago, those who like to fuck around — sorry, “engage in sexual dyads” — are prone to be non-monogamous. Seeing Dr. Paik’s other main subject of study is the interrelationships within the right-wing lawyer community (I’m not making this up), it appears he is focused on those among us prone to screw everybody around them. Those who desire to soak up the entirety of this intellectual endeavor can read the complete study in March’s issue of Perspectives on Sexual and Reproductive Health.
Prior to the advent of mobile technology, it was kinda unwieldy when resting your laptop on her back while doing it doggy-style. However, the miniaturization of technology now allows for texting while driving, conducting trains, performing surgery — and having sex. As published in Adage, a survey conducted by Retrevo Gadgetology indicates that 10% of respondents under the age of 25 indicate that they see nothing wrong with texting while fucking. When it comes to texting while taking a piss, 24% of those under 25 approve. Even less respect for the sanctity of a business meeting is displayed — 49% will divert attention to their cell within this scenario. Hopefully, pissing during a business meeting does not become the next development within our increasingly multi-tasking world.
It appears that respect for the sacrosanct acts of sucking and fucking is found more as people age — only 6% of over-25’s see texting while having sex as appropriate. Only 17% of the older demographic viewed texting during a business meeting as being okay, and only 12% attempt to mix texting and pissing. In a testament to the strength of young bladders, a whopping 76% of those under 25 check for texts before getting out of bed for their morning piss. Possibly, having grown up with the technology, the younger demographic simply has greater physical dexterity allowing for seamless mixing of texting with these various activities. Soon we’ll probably see spam titled “Guaranteed to get you hard by her 2nd tweet!”.
Hey, Justin here again. Arrived yesterday at my first Justin World Pussy Tour stop of Los Angeles, and trust me — this city is much better once you have money. Staying at the Mondrian and hanging with my buddies Larry and Phil who are more than happy to pick up my leftovers — just kidding guys. Last night we were at Sky Bar, and I don’t think I have ever seen a larger selection of hot chicks in one place. I am falling easily into my new role as young wealthy entreprenuer (even though i’m still fucking clueless as to how I actually made my own money), and girls eat it up. We started out chatting up a nice group of MAW’s (Model/Actress/Whatever), and I became fixated on a hot brunette we’ll call Amy (I won’t be using real names of girls on here — that would be uncouth). Amy was among the legions of aspiring Snooki’s, but she had a bit higher of an IQ. After regaling her with stories of my investing prowess (ha ha), she was more than eager to accompany me down to my suite. 
