Why? The answer is just about as clear as a good swift kick to ... the groin: STDs: Sexually transmitted diseases, HIV, HPV, HERPES, CHLAMYDIA, THE CLAP, ETC., and a steaming, locomotive fist-punch to ... the heart: JEALOUSY: Full fury and bluesy, "Oh, woe is me," the most vile scourge of them all---heartbreaking, heartaching, killer jealousy. That's why.
Ahhh, the great human, man-animal, humanimal dilemma: how can we have more sex, but with less sex disease? Hmmm, how can we do this? How can we have more sex partners, but with less social complications and heartache? "Surely there must be a way we have not yet thought of." Hey, wait a darn dirty minute, maybe there is a way. Maybe we can be clean and dirty, all at the same time. Maybe, just maybe, we can beat biology ... and become biology's master.
No more push, no more shove, cuz here comes THE LOVE GOV, DOCTOR FREELOVE. Be weary and woeful no more, frustrated Citizens of Earth, for I, Johnny Neptune, Dr. Freelove, have been sent---from the horniest corner of the Cosmos---to heal inter-human sexual relations upon your fine Milky Way ride. But first off, you just have to buck it up and face the icky, hard truth: recreational sex on Planet Hexed Sex of a Fine Mess is fucked and is in dire need of critical care. Dammit, Your High Council of The Great and Grand Galactic Goddess Boddess, I'm an Interstellar Sex Doctor, not a miracle worker!... Well, orders is orders, so ... here ... I ... go ...
It seems as if your modern-aged, ultra-wandering, superfertile imaginations have finally outstripped and exceeded your current physical limitations and social restrictions, where, God honest, truly gettin off without sacrificing your valuable physical and emotional health, just isn't occuring. My diagnosis: Your minds and spirits are just too freaking freaky for your bodies and your societal arrangements. I see what I have to do, this calls for a shot of some extremely powerful medicine. You have left me little choice but to prescribe my top-shelf, very best philosophical potion that will expel your wrecked rec sex epidemic, screaming straight into eternal remission. And, of course, like all good interplanetary professionals who desire to serve all, I will dispense the no-harma-pharma love-drug to both your sinners and your saints---and to all in between. Someone call 6-9-9-1-1, stat!, and let's start rolling them into the ... EROTO ER.
The "sinners:" The players. The hipsters, the funsters, the romantically expansive, the erotically exuberant, the slimey, slime-bag, slime-machines who play with fire, their physical health fire, that is. The gregarious gamblers who play Russian roulette with infectious sex infuckions: STDs. Helloooo!: N.O.T. S.E.X.Y..
The "saints:" The married. The loyal, the faithful, the true, the trustworthy, the devoted, the steadfast, the staunch, the reliable---the martyred. The mortally monogamous who quite possibly face a fate far worse than death itself: a chronic, lifetime sentence of nibbling on the same ole cookie-nookie treats, over and over, again and again, year after clock-stopping year. No disrespect intended, but "Variety IS the spice of life." Novelty "is the ultimate aphrodisiac." "More is not enough, and too much is ... just right." Sexually speaking: 1 man + 1 woman + the rest of your lives = a very large negative # in: H E double hockey sticks.
MARRIAGE---gonging those typically unheeded wedding warning bells of tedious, endless hell---as strictly practiced by your book, is a sexual social contract that seems to have been perversely designed to rocket-blast you, straight jacket and all, ... into the loony bin. Coyboys and coygirls, stop playing me and fess up about the plain bald truth that your SACRED AND HALLOWED MARITAL INSTITUTION, that solid olden-time cultural tradition, that heart and core of many people's lives, then and now, is beginning to crack and crumble, right before your very eyes, and is in major need of total reconstructive rehab. You're okay, physical monogamy is okay, but it's the ENFORCED EMOTIONAL MONOGAMY, that grinchish mini monopoly of sex, is what stomps, crushes and kills your oh so sweet and playful spirits. MARRIAGE may not be wrong ... but it's definitely not right: ENOUGH. For better or ... hearse.
Horny homies, ADMIT IT!, it doesn't matter how hot or adorable or adventurous in "bed," or just incredibly wonderful, otherwise, your mate may be, exclusive partnership will in time: GET OLD. Same old, same old. L'habitude tue le desir. Sooner or later, ya'll gonna be hankerin for some strange. Sure, love---can, may, will---endure until even after the Sweet Heavens implode, turning all your precious, little, darling diamonds to dust, but monotonous, er, monogamous sex will eventually bore, for Earthman AND EARTHGIRL alike. It's kind of like "choosing to only watch movies made by your favorite director, or only reading books written by your favorite author, or just listening to music from your favorite recording artist," that is, if you can even pick just one. Only one?! What are you, INSANE? Man, what a twisted demand.
And it goes without saying that LOVE, SEX, and MONOGAMY have absolutely zero to do with economic security ... ... ...AHHH HA-HA, HA HA! Honey and yummy for money. Ass for cash. Fucks for bucks. "Another trip to the mall? Unhook that bra!" "So you want a new Lexus? Well..., this calls for more sex betwext us." Droppin them underpants romance-finance.
Saint or sinner, sinner or saint, whose path is worse? Flip a nickel, Jefferson. But guess what? It doesn't matter any longer because I, Neptune, am treating them both, by the laying on of hands, so to speak, with a magnificent major mojo med for everybody's sexually related dysfunctions: a beautiful, kindly fix-em-up that I call: multiple smartners. Acquaint yourselves to a moral restraint that's far less to hate. Multiple smartners is the sexual relationship dream come true that your poor people's souls' have been dying to see. Houston, we have a solution. A bona fide Sexual Revolution Solution, that is. In order to form more perfect human unions, I declare that the fucking fucked-up fuck stops here.
Multiple smartners is swinging and touching with your minds, not your biologies. It's of and above biology. The kind mind swing. You marry one---as you merry many. You keep your relationship closed---while keeping your imaginations open. L' Affaires a la le Air. And, just in case you haven't been paying attention, it's not multiple partners, it's multiple SMART!ners. It's less of a Pill of Rights and more of a Pill of Responsibilities. I have THE REAL PILLs to swills for all your sex ills. Welcome. Come in. Close the door. Have a seat. Would you like a cool beverage? Lie down. Reeelaaax. Take a deeeeeeeep breath. Open your mind. Open your heart. And now---open your eyes---for Dr. Freelove is about to deliver a bundle of good news. I vill now commence vith zee open head and heart surgery upon your tender and tattered psyches.
PILL #1
Be physically monogamous
Proper personal physical health care demands this keystone sacrifice. Keep the old lady, keep the old man. PHYSICALLY and, of course, EMOTIONALLY, INTELLECTUALLY, and SPIRITUALLY L!O!V!E! and cherish your one and only partner-mate. If you are fortunate enough to own the unbelievable and rare jewel of true love, then nobody has to tell you to keep a grip on such a fine treasure. There is positively no need to throw hubby or wifey out with the wet and wild sexplay. Companionship that's hip. Loving devotion is: cool. Love governs. "Love ain't all" ... but it's the best. Authentic. Reflected. Reciprocal. Synergistic. LOVE THE LOVE OF YOUR LIFE. Faithful physical fidelity is first. It's #1 for a reason. It's the safe and beautiful core from which all else springs. Essential. Vital. Foundational. Old Faithful. Old school. Vitamin L. Home Sweet Home. The One. Love as deep and solid as the bedrock goes. The Rock.
PILL #2
Be emotionally polyamorous
"Oh... to feel something new." Proper personal emotional health care demands this keystone exception. Yes, I know, I know, I KNOW!!!, this seems completely counterintuitive, kind of like pouring 747 fuel on a fire in order to put it out, but EMOTIONALLY having MORE partners (smartners!, that is) will bring: LESS jealousy. The theory is that the more playpals each person has, the smaller the chance of anyone being left out of funtime. It's the sacred sexual geometry: If 1 is good, isn't > 1: better? If 1 is great, isn't more than 1---grander? But, YOU HAVE TO DO IT RIGHT: E.M.O.T.I.O.N.A.L.L.Y O.N.L.Y!
POLYAMORY: "The fact or practice of being romantically or sexually involved with more than one person with the knowledge and consent of all parties." Love, love, love like you've never, ever loved before, revered pleasure-pigs; come, come, come out of your closets and plant your freako-flags in the light of day. Be proud of all of those naughty sexual fantasies---that you don't, won't, and will never PHYSICALLY act upon---that you have been so carefully and cautiously burying way down inside your near broken and beat-up, paranoid heart. Accept it. Embrace it. Know it. Grow it. Bloom it, and boom it---out. Have some ultra-intensive, complete and total, worry-free, goddesswowed fun for once in your creaky, conventional sex life. So, they say, "Men are 'hunters' and women are 'nesters'." And exactly what kind of nest would that be? Eagle or chicken? Ladies, cease your labored propping up of your mens' delicate, jumbo male egg-shell egos. The double standard dudes are just going to have to get over it---and themselves. Women are naturally half animals, same as the boys. ...I am half animal, hear me roar. Hey, you, get on the floor!... 21st century Earthfolk, start raising your recreational sex bar. Be not so overly and unnecessarily possessive of your mate's unique physique. You don't own it; it isn't yours; you ride through life with it. SAFELY share it. To hold one fast, release them a tad. To hold one secure, release them a little, for sure. In the strongest way possible: Eff ewe sea cay JEALOUSY. To hell with jealousy. Nobody needs it, nobody wants it. Adios. Adieu. So long, farewell, see ya, never, ever.
Even though you may 10 million % LOVE your partner beyond any shadow of a doubt but still find yourself having to self-medicate with copious doses of alkyhol in order to get the deed done o-n-e ... m--o--r--e .... t----i----m----e, then by all means feel free to apply generous applications of heavenly polylove to your earthy relationships. Thou shall not hoard ... the pleasing image of one's one-of-a-kind mate. If people really loved their belles and beaus, then allowing them a spicy look, but NO touch (See Pill #3) polyamorous fling, now and again, probably wouldn't kill their marriages but just might breathe new life into them---instead. In droves. THOU SHALL. Hey, hot stuff, share your milfa* wealth stuff. "The unexamined wife is not worth having." Fun-flirt till you make 'em all hurt. Be the emotional bonobo. "Strange and varied are the true ways of life." One Soul---inhabiting a buttload of bodies. Buy "the cow" and rent freely from ..."the barnyard." "IN LUST WE TRUST", cuz it's a must. Essential. Vital. Foundational. New Grateful. New U. Vitamin XXX. Roam Sweet Roam. The 1,000 and One. The Roll.
*milfa: momma I like to fantasize about
Got it? Dr. Freelove's free love: It's monogamy. It's monogamy. It's monogamy. It's swinging. It's swinging. It's swinging. It's both. At the same time. Together. The very best of both worlds---combined. Just slurp your noodle around the joy and savor the liberation. Get out of jail free. Hooray! Hurrah! Hurray! Time served. Time served.
And again, Dr. Freelove's free love: many imaginatively shared sexual fantasy partnerships + physical faithfulness to one's real life, soulmate partner; the half open, but all molten sexuality. The Neptonian monogamist-polyamorist: nonfoolish foolin around. Blowin the doors off of old-fashioned monogamy---to be applied after all the prayers and pixie dust have lost their magic touch. "Semper Fi" + "To thine own self be true" = rock & roll for me 'n' rock & roll for you. When 2 or more are gathered in my name, rock-and-roll will never be the same. Red pill, blue pill, need another choice; pop a polyplaypill a...n...d... rejoice, rejoice.
PILL #3
Look, but NO touch
This one is the hard sell. Essential. Critical. Foundational. The catch. There should be no fuzzy misinterpretation here. Use your multiple smartners as EYE CANDY ONLY! ...You gotta keep 'em ... separated... You can touch YOURSELF---or your real partner---but not your smartner-partners: NO ONE, NONE, NOT EVEN ONE. The New Noble Agreement. The Bargain with The Goddess---a new social-sexual contract. Certainly the toughest pill to swallow but, come on, people, I know you can do this. It's a small sacrifice considering all of the benefits to be gained. Break that touching habit, Mr. and Mrs. Rabbit. Be not the wuss, stay out of the puss. Introduce this intelligent moderation into your adoration of the lovely, multiple-choiced Body Nation. Freelove's free love is not an unaccountable, free-loading, freebie, free-for-all. The price: Your consideration, your effort, and your commitment to refrain from touching your free love partners (the smartners!).
"Look, but no touch??? The hell you say! What are you, Dr. Killjoyman, out of your flippin mind? There's nooooo waaaaaay. We can't do it. We won't do it. Fergetaboudit. If we see, we want to touch. We like to touch. We need to touch. We have to touch. WE LOVE TO TOUCH!!!!!!!! Out of sight, out of mind, it's the only way." No probmento, animal people. There may be some additional training recommended on this particular pill point for some ... okay, for many ... ... ... ... okay, okay, for most. Happier now? [Neptune mutters to self: Slobbering curs!]
Wh-o-o-o-o-o-ps, here we go already; alright!, alright!, you can make some conditional exceptions if you're strong enough and your partner and smartners agree. You can shake hands, or touch hands, or hold hands, or, OK!, OK!, go ahead and squeeze in a big, ole, soul-to-soul, electrifying, knee-jangling hug or two. Sweet tender caresses? Oh, OK. Must I monitor all of your passion plays? Must I meticulously study and inspect every pornographic possibility? Just know this, just know the new line: SWAP SPIRITS, NOT BODILY FLUIDS.
Spit Happens. But not on my watch. NO KISSING!!!, NO KISSING!!!, NO KISSING!!! I don't enjoy being the bearer of bad news but everybody knows, plain as day, that saliva is the supreme, slippery-sloped sexual gateway fluid. If I see any lip-locking, be warned, for I have a fully functioning, highly accurate, precision grade particle-beam neuterizer that's operable from the dash of my ever-surveilling Super Mamma Mothership---and I will use it. Kisses and spit, kisses and spit---no, no, zap, zap. Swap spirits, not spit. MENTALLY---IMAGINATIVELY---swap all the damned fluids that you want. KISS WITH YOUR MINDS, lovesters, not with your lips. For kissing that counts ... real, quasar quality, mind, kind of kisses, see Pill #6.
PILL #4
Is it enthusiastically consensual?
Is it absolutely EC? Are the most favorite sexual fantasies mutually agreeable? Is yours and your partner's most truest erotic wishes-desires a high holy match? Are passion levels for each partner rating an "Oh, hell, yeah!!," and not just a pathetic "Well, maybe" or "I'm not completely sure" or "Oh,OK" or "Sure, why not?" Mutual interests ...in the most delightful way.... Be not the wimp---get hip to yer inner pimp.
PILL #5
Be the porno
Ahhhh, mmmmmm, this pill, this pill, the sweetest one of them all. Essential. Vital. Foundational. For foreplay, vidi the flesh, and be the flesh. F'n ferget Hef, YOU are the real, living, breathing, exuding "pornography" come to life. Show it, don't stow it. Be generous with thy flesh, or barely clothed, or even completely clothed, whatever your no "sin" skin comfort level is. Get the juices flowing either in person or not in person. Just say YES! to selfies. Use the PRIVATE, CONSENSUAL, ADULT-TO-ADULT, tele-communion communications to give your speculative or established smartner or partner a whiff of what you got. Personal porn*star*ing is EXACTLY why The Maker signed off on inventions such as the Internet and smartphones. Man, oh, wwwwoman, do I have an app for that. Exhibit with pride---but be forewarned of "possible" spy eyes in the skies. Sometimes, subtlety and mere suggestiveness is all it takes anyway. Thankfully, you can always securely whip out the really meaty, cheese-cakey, far-out stuff with Pill #6.
PILL #6
Telepathic Mind Sex
Yeah, yeah, ...YES! For the gen born into porn, Generation S.E.X.. Quantum leap your sex hex and connect with Telepathic Mind Sex---the third eye surprise. Be kind, unwind, mind 2 mind. Pleasure me, via ESP. It's as EZ as ABC. A. Choose a fantasy-matched partner who is ready, willing, and able. B. Consensually agree to mentally meet, mind-to-mind, heart-to-heart, ass-to-ass, or whatever-to-whatever, for a delightful, dreamy date. C. Separately, from the comforts of each of your own abodes,* wedded, bedded in ye heads, each sexplorer telepathically swings, swaps, and shares very intimate, uninhibited, and private sex-images to and fro---while doing what comes naturally in the appropriate touching of self---for a snap, crackle, rocket's red glare, thongs bursting in air, mind-body-spirit consummated: f...i...n...i...s...h. Mission accomplished. And, afterwards, even though you may want to shout it, LOUD AND PROUD, from all the rooftops, it's discreetly undetectable and totally deniable to all those residing outside your sex-world loop. None.of.their.biz.
If you're not very psychic, guess what, you now have an excellent reason to be. Practice, practice, practice---and in time you will become adequately proficient with your newly acquired sex-ray vision. "May the fantasy be with you." The original Paranormal Date. The kind mind meld.
"Say, Neptune dude, isn't Telepathic Mind Whatever just a fancy smancy way of saying masturbation?" Ah, thank you, Mr. Masturbater Debater, I was just beginning to think you were never going to ask that one. Well, no ... and yes.
Nah, Telepathic Mind Sex (TMS) is not pitiful solo masturbation. Come on, sex with just yourself? I judge not, but, Great Shrinking Gonads!, you are surely missing the boat. How uneventful.
Nope, TMS is not solo---porno assisted---masturbation that uses another's image without their active, interactive participation. Now don't get me wrong, BLESSED PORNOGRAPHY has stoked this grand Doctor's fire, many, many, a cold, solitary night with welcomed doses of variety a la skin, but, shucks, something was always missing. The sex sauce wasn't ... quite ... right. Pounding it, with porno? Still ... more snoring with the boring.
Never!, TMS is also not creepy, desperate, and ignorant solo masturbation that telepathically uses another's image against their will. That would be TMR, Telepathic Mind Rape. Rape is NOT sex. Rape is THEFT. Rape is ASSAULT. Physically, or MENTALLY. Pardon me a moment while I perform a bit of urgent "consciousness raising." Hey!, uninvited---show some class and stay the *@#!*!*@#! out of my ass. It's not a bus station, open 24/7 to the general public. Authorization denied. Nonnegotiable. Stop giving sex such an odious name. Do I have to start wearing a fully veiled man-burqa? Take the hintS, read the god-damned signs: STOP!!!, CEASE!!!, NO!!! NO!!! NO!!!!!, OH HELL NO! Consent is king, you poor thirsty LOSERS who stupidly feel that mentally stealing the image from and mentally forcing their image into NONconsenting others is a morally acceptable sex choice. FYI, ding-dongs, we can feel your errant, unwanted ghoul-vibes. Yeeeeeeee-ech!!! Because you can, doesn't mean: you should. Repugnant punks, leave my psychic space be. You're now on notice; you no longer get a pass just because people haven't known what to call your vibe crimes, your misunderstandings. Instead ... gather up what's left of your dog-assed self-respect and begin living by the Golden Onan Rule: Spank ONLY those who desire to spank you. Enter thru the noodle, not the boodle. Enter thru the mind, the will---that is: ONLY IF PERMISSION IS GRANTED---not just thru the body, the booty.
Solo masturbation may get the job done physically, kind of like a quickie out-patient procedure from downtown at the clinic, but emotionally, spiritually, ecstatically, it's a one-person, one-way trip to ... the morgue, DOA, all dead and hollow. By definition, TMS cannot be solo sex. There is a huge orgasmic universe of difference riding on this one single "itsy-bitsy" point. TMS involves !!! TWO !!! (or more) WILLING PARTICIPANTS who are joined in heart, mind, and spirit, taking recreational sex to a higher level of intimacy and intensity. ...I CAN get, yo, satisfaction... If you think I'm bullshitting you, all I can say is: Try it, but be duly notified, for once you go consensual TELEPATHIC JACK, you may never go back. Be careful..., you just might snap it off.
Okay, sure, yes, technically, and physically, you can consider TMS a SUPREMELY WEIRDO, evolutionary adaptation of masturbation, whatever keeps your world in order, but, EMOTIONALLY AND SPIRITUALLY, it is chiefly, above all, VERY REAL AND INCREDIBLE SEX.
You knoooooooow, as long as we're being totally frank, technically, if you're not present in mind and spirit with your sex partner, that is, if you are FANTASIZING ABOUT SOMEBODY ELSE WHILE YOU ARE DOING YOUR MATE, then, technically, YOU!!! ARE MASTURBATING! Technically, all YOU are doing is just using your partner as a warm human substitute for a dildo, vibrator, or blow-up doll while you are really having sex: with the person you are fantasizing about. Technically, you are busted, Mr. and Mrs. Holier Than Thou Hypo(critical)sexual;** you, and a billion, 2, 3, 4 or more of your fellow "pure and pristine," slydog kind. Guilty, guilty as charged. Sure, Earthstuds, go right ahead and incorrectly think of "silly" TMS as simply another form of masturbation, till all your heifers come meandering home, but it certainly smells like TELEPATHIC MIND SEX to me.
Yes, Ma'am, TMS: The slopless, swapping of filthy spirits---a more honest and on the money alternative to your Frankensteined, Freudian, fraud façade of a so-called sex life. Yeah, ohhhhh, yeah, TMS: Tapping into where the real action takes place---in the carnal carnival-of-the-mind. TMS: Beyond body focused twists and torques of tantra and sex from the Kama Sutra. TMS: Nasty gymnastics for the noggin, not the lower back. Minds and hands over matter, it's suuupahh sex on a platter!
* Other TMS enhancements can be supplemented by the web or smartphone, or even seductively stripping on down in the presence of each other while directing and/or dirty talking the fantasy du jour
Of course you don't have to "finish the job" here, now, but you can use the sensuous session to mentally store up on some really fine Pill #5 (Be the porno) eye candy.
** hyposexual (hip-uh-sexual)
1. A hypocrite; a person given to hypocrisy. Hypocrisy: the practice of professing beliefs, feelings, or virtues that one does not hold or possess; falseness.
2. Professing belief in monogamy, physically and emotionally, but in actuality ... not really.
3. The most common sexual orientation upon your planet. Barreling straight and queerly down the trans bi-way SLYway.
4. Practicing physical monogamy, but not emotional monogamy, while carrying on with attention diverting policies such as: "Don't ask, don't tell," "I'm taking the fifth," or "No comment," regarding one's wandering head and heart, as repeatedly, supposedly unbeknownst to us all, they are fantasizing their sweet asses off. Long story short, let's just plop it out onto the table: Shhh, you didn't hear it from me, but... ***SEXUAL FANTASY*** is the ancient secret atomic ingredient of the long-termed "happily" married.
5. Reluctantly declaring emotional monogamy, even if it's not true, but for very practical and forgivable reasons, such as:
..... A. Seeing no culturally acceptable alternative that would allow one to safely escape, even temporarily, from their rubber-stamped, boot-stomped prison-union of monogamous marriage---a stingy, mule-blinded, double-solitary confinement that insistently and persistently refuses to mercifully offer a compassionate and humane "relief valve" that would grant a variance for an occasional desired dish of delicious, fantasy-friendly, Neptonian-like, safe sexplay. Warden!, unlock those cages of carnal hell.
..... B. Clearly understanding the effed-up truth that: If your partner catches you even just thinking about another, they will promptly proceed in "the making of your life into an even greater torment." A...n...d...... kaaaaaaa-sqweeeeesh!, both partners' monogamously welded chains of bondage pull ever tighter, squeezing and ratcheting, tighter, tighter, ever tighter around each other's starved, stifled hearts, while each flails even more miserably about in the throes of the strictest interpretation of the "one partner and only one partner," locked down loyalty-law-rule-agreement till sweet and mighty, rapturous death do they part... Well, uh, yeah, then a little white-lyin denyin about one's sexual fantasizing of nonpartners seems to be ... a very prudent thing indeed.
6. Once sex from Neptune arrives on the scene, hyposexuals will become: seldom seen---destined as the dodo. When 2 or 3 billion are gathered in my name, Hypocrisy's Horny House of Lies will never, ever be the same.
PILL #7
Freud on roids
Damn the forbidden!, damn the forbidden!, damn the forbidden!---FULL FANTASIES AHEAD!!! Ah, yes, this pill, this pill, the most special one of them all. Last, but certainly not least. Assential. Vital. Funky fundamental. Fret the fantasy no more. "Sex is more about IMAGINATION than friction." Be a sanesexual pioneer. Honor your inner animal. No more swervin nor aversion to your inner perversion. Let it rip. Leap into your peep. Role-play, today. Think kink. XXXtra credit for kink. Excavate your ecstasy. Ferret, find, and free your fetish. Paraphilia Dreamin. Shape-shift this, taboo you. Guilt-free, leave us be! Ruin not your gender fluid bruin. Enter, venture, enjoy ye splendor and surrender with a header into the gender blender. Seek the strange, drain not the brain with the routine mundane. The bolder, the better. Lesser norm, greater glory. "All the way"? Nowhere near ... far enough. Dive down deep into "the 'sins' you never had the courage to commit." Wipe clean the window to your gloriously holy sex soul. Become the personal one-creature amusement park that you were meant to be. Ride me. Imaginatively monogamous, face-to-face, man-on-top, woman-on-bottom, reproduction-simulating, vanilla het-sex: AH, HA HAAA, HA-HA!!! Oh, sorry. Apologies. With all yuckin aside, if you do prefer a lighter, more soft-core style of fantasy, then, of course, by all means, GO FOR IT. Go for WHATEVER floats your boat---and let no others impose their tastes upon yours. And relax! ... , most people probably don't want to live in all the Freak Zones anyway. You don't have to try them all. I don't ... and I'm pretty certain I never will---not even most of them. Delve into only what turns YOU on, into what is comfy for YOU. Nobody expects everybody to be into everything.
Whoa, whoa, whoa!, apparently some of you don't even know how to fantasize---at all. Unbelievable. For you po' slow-mos* who are holding the rest of the class back, I will instruct with a brief snippet from a possible wiggly trillion visual a la amores. Be advised, a classic romantic, I am not, but no worries as I'll be keepin this one in PG Land. In your mind's eye, picture a lovin somethin as follows. This trip begins with a ... kiss.
I tightly grab her hair with both of my hands, gripping and pulling hard, scrunching her face to mine, face to face, cheek to cheek, smelling her scent, her sweat, I lick it, I lick every melting molecule, sucking the dripping salty saliva right out of her gaping, steaming mouth---she demands: ***blank*** my ***blank***---I have NO CHOICE! but to comply, I munch, I suck, I chew, I chomp ... her lips, her cheeks, her, her ... , every nook and cranny of her ...
Heeelloooo Starship Betty, uh, ... ... that is all. Class dismissed.
Now that wasn't so difficult, was it? And even kind of fun too, huh? Did you get the picture? A picture? Any picture? Would you like a little more? Well, too bad, kissin cousin, becuzin I'm fast out of material that's fit for public consumption. Anyway, did God's angry, spiteful, scrooge-filled wrath of lighting, fire and brimstone strike my lively, horny ass down? Not this time. Not the time before. Nor even the quite numerous carnal air consummations before those. Gosh, I must be either very lucky or very ... right on.
*slow-mo-sexual
1. A human being who doesn't know how to fantasize about another to whom they are sexually attracted. Wow. Yow. Yipes. Unthinkable on my home planet. Wow, yow, y-i-p-e-s!
2. A person who knows how to sexually fantasize---but "chooses" not to because of their long outdated Earthian beliefs. Hey, Earth sisters and brothers, times have changed, people have changed. Over the past 2,000 years or so, people's spiritual strength and maturity has grown, allowing themselves to consider easier and grander ways of looking at things in their lives and the world. Of course, not all, but many now understand that a person can spiritually and physically remain faithful to one as they also emotionally---but non-physically---enjoy life with a lot of others. New day, new times, new game, new rules. Back then, there was NO WAY any of them would of got, let alone apply, this delicate but huge, rockin-rollercoaster, social point. In today's budding Nude World Order, Neptune Sex is not even close to cheating. Cheat not: yourselves.
3. One who allows "God," Gramps, or some other grumpy Gus to take a dump in their fun-bucket.
4. A sexual orientation that one should: try to avoid.
!!! All pills !!! subject to improvement, refinement, or the philosophical-psychological hazardous waste container. If you've got a better idea on how to treat our sexual maladies, well, don't be shy, let's hear about it. I'm down for somebody else sticking out their big chewy tushy in the name of kinder Earth sex---as well.
My prognosis: All of my "patients" will not only live but they will thrive, and Neptonian Fantasy Sex may just quite possibly be the safest, the sanest, and the greatest sex that they will ever have in their entire lives. After a couple of orbits around Neptune, plain ole in-out intercourse will never, ever be the same.
Traditional monogamy, straight up? Sweet Stinkin Starlight, have you not comprehended a word that I've said? No f'n way. Showcase "monogamy," with multiple partners slyly on the side? Thanks, but no viral thanks. Polygamy? Don't you wives feel kind of ... ripped off? Yes, I know, it's all about the kids, and God, and your man, and even your sister wives, but is it ... really? What about you? And you? And you? Unbalanced load. Pass. Swinging, or open non-monogamy? Not on my healthy life, you festering disease-bags. Where's your hazmat suits! Fantasy-fueled faux monogamy? Getting closer, but still no genuine cigar. Holy revolutionary monogamy, with multiple smartners? Happy Horny Heartbeats, it's just what the humble Space Doc ordered: the cleanest and the dirtiest recreational sex available on the market today---one-stop shopping that's over-the-counter, inside the mind, and... and...... outside the box. "No harm, lotsa foul."
Neptune Sex is not for everybody. If anybody goes for it, it will most likely be the mature. And to them---I salute.
Fly, wise lovers, fly!. Sex on Neptune is not the end-all of the Neptonian experience but is just the beginning, a corner stone launching pad for resurrecting a rejuvenated s.e.l.f.-.r.e.s.p.o.n.s.i.b.i.l.i.t.y over our very own lives, our very own destiny.
Dr. Freelove pop-quizzes: Q: What are the hottest, most sensual parts of the human body? A: Your brain, your mind, and your beautifully freaky imagination.
X!X!X+++! Johnny Neptune, Dr. Freaklove. Healing the fucking world. Orbit this. Fly Carnal Air. January 18, 2010, reviso 3-31-2021. Eureka! I have split the no spit, safest sex atom. "All those who wander---ARE NOT LOST." Phasers set to ... SANEST sex fun. Live thong and perspire. Jealousy---we're gonna shut that bitch down.
p.s. "Romance lives by repetition, and repetition converts an appetite into an art. Besides, each time that one loves, it is the only time one has ever loved. Difference of object does not alter singleness of passion. It merely intensifies it. We can have in life but one great experience at best, and the secret of life is to reproduce that experience as often as possible."
p.s. p.s. "If we lived long enough to see the results of our action, it may be that those who call themselves good would be sickened with dull remorse, and those whom the world calls evil stirred by a noble joy. Each little thing that we do passes into the great machine of life, which may grind our virtues to powder and make them worthless, or transform our sins into elements of a new civilization, more marvelous and more splendid than any that has gone before."
p.s. 3XL
