Tag Archives: sexotica

Most likely the average penis will fit the ordinary vagina

kathleen_k_sexotic_penis_size_erotic A Study of Attractiveness, Penis Size and Body Shape

You’d think by now we’d have figured out most people are around average (thereby establishing the average).  The enduring question of penis size has been answered yet again: 5.16 inches in length when erect, and 4.59 around, according to an analysis of more than 15,000 appendages around the world.

Since the root cause of this question is the idea that the penis is intended to fill the vagina, where is the corresponding target dimensions for the phallic missile?  That begets the question:  how would you measure the vagina?  We know it can accommodate a baby’s head with proper preparation…  these statistics on penis length and girth don’t begin to address the convoluted nature of that vault and its keeper.

The underlying unease about the equipment pinpoints the lack of honesty in our literature and art when it comes to what makes sex good for people.  It isn’t merely beauty, it isn’t only power, and it sure is not dick-length.  Sexual viability is a pre-verbal accord in some ways, a subliminal click.  Long before a woman sees a man’s penis (in the usual order of social-sexual involvement), she’s assessed his suitability and only an extreme anomaly would reverse that.  On a bio-science level, we’ve got a nearly universal adapter going on the hole and pole business, it is rare that anyone strays too far from the Bell curve bulge.

This isn’t the first pitch I’ve made for men to use what they’ve been given and for women to do the same, the theme runs through my books:  Penis size is a fact, what matters is a judgment.

In my choice to write sexotic vignettes around the themes of voyeurism, reefer and romance, phone fantasy, and sex⇔love strategy; I am assigning a high value to potential.  These bedside readers are brimming with ideas to consider – be thoughtful about your sexual happiness, consider elements to seek within and beyond yourself, identify purpose to confer meaning.  And have some fuckin’ fun.


SAMPLE – Not suitable for some, appreciated by others.

–from Honey B., Sexual Consultant (Book II of V)

Wendy gagged on Willie’s dick every time she ate it. Willie felt she was rejecting him not only physically but emotionally. He told me he understood she was new at it but, geez, in over a dozen attempts they’d always ended up with her spluttering and Whee Willie sputtering. Wendy didn’t say much but finally she turned to me and sighed. “He‘s the one. He thinks he has to hang his nuts on my chin or it doesn’t count.” Willie shrank back from this as if he’d been stung. He’d mistaken her virginity for innocence. He didn’t act happy about hearing this from her. Where was she getting her information?

She didn’t see what her having watched some sex movies had to do with her essential wife & partner wholesomeness. Wendy had known all along what was going wrong with their oral sex (she had a few ideas about intercourse, too) but try as she might she couldn’t dissuade him from thrusting his penis all the way into her mouth from the first to the too-soon last. He had no concept of laying back and letting her moisten his cock first. How could she tell him to let her take it in little nibbles, a bit at a time, saving the deep throat duty for the end when she was relaxed and open to him?

Our triangulated talk not only cured this one symptom but revealed a deeper presumption that he was to be the sexual leader on their team. He had no reason to doubt she was inexperienced when they wed but it was big news to him that she’d actually watched sex on a screen before she had any experience. She said it was a real eye-opener. I should think so, knowing the wide range of graphic film images available. They grabbed a couple of movies from my lending shelf and dashed home to discuss this hitherto unexpressed aspect of her nature and what it might mean for their future.


Nolan wanted me to look at his dick when it was erect and tell him my professional opinion of it, was it thick enough, long enough, the right color, did it feel OK… Upon inspection it revealed itself as ordinary in all respects, exhibiting no untoward aspect. He packed it away and left a happy man. His few lovers never spoke of it to him, he didn’t know who else to ask, and it was useless to speak in theory. Someone had to look at it and then look him in the eye and tell him the interpersonal truth. I told him it was slightly thinner, somewhat longer and exactly the same shape as other pricks I’d seen, and like all the others it had the head on the top. If the thought of me looking at it is what gave him the hard-on so be it. It was not the first or last time I’d give a critique of the client but rarely was it as simple as this particular see-and-say report.


Lady readers, close your eyes and slowly squeeze the muscles of your pelvic floor, clench them tight then shift them forward. Imagine a man in the room, a finger in your hole, a prick pushing inward. Men, imagine that.



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A Musing: Nipples as Emblems of Breasticular Freedom

The bra-burning days may come to mind when we think of women’s lib but this history reminds us that the brassiere evolved as a softer and kinder (and cheaper) alternative to restrictive corsets.

kathleenk_erotica_sexotica_gender_dynamics_corset             kathleenk_erotica_books_graphic_bra

Note:  The 1893 patent did not conceal the nipples by design or in depiction.

The underlying theme of controlling and containing those frisky boobulums retains an overemphasis on men’s opinions.  The current dustup over Chelsea Handler paying homage to Putin on horseback, topless, questions the logic of hiding female breasts online.  From pasties to burkas, dictated decency doesn’t seem to be about what women prefer to wear but what must be done to appease men’s “inability to control themselves” sexually.  Sadly, it comes down to that.  Are we conceding that men are so craven, so weak, that they cannot be taught to control themselves if they see nipples online?  Come on, we’re showing side-boob and under-boob and everything-but-dead-center-boob on mainstream media, and self-sourcing glory-hole sex everywhere else.

This is just one ridiculous aspect of the slippery slope that excuses male predations against women in the courtroom, the boardroom, the living-dining-bed-bath-mud room.  It’s the same faulty presumption that protects the male ego from admitting they aren’t superior as a gender because women are not inferior as a gender.  Compare and contrast within a gender if you wish, but we should accept that the purpose-nature-value of the dual-gender system is not ours to judge, yet if ever.  We the people should advance the people, all the people, not just some of the people, not just some of the time.

Pixilating digital titties is a symbolic battleground.  Whether women “need” bras is a matter of fashion for the most part; if we needed pouches to mask the breasts so they could function then we would have evolved a pair of pockets — and probably would have to hide those too!

Women are not anti-bra.  When an undergarment is artfully designed to frame and flatter then form finds function.  Consider the delectable presentation of bosoms in a bustier engineered to lift and separate.  It is only natural we’d invent ways to protect and proclaim these outcroppings, so briefly if at all used for nursing, steeped in the secret spice of hidden even forbidden intimacies.  There’s nothing wrong with the allure of peek-a-boo lingerie… breasts are sexualized at a basic level for both genders: no problem.  There’s a problem when those who don’t have breasts presume to impose special rules on those who do.

Just the gist:  Keep your uninvited mitts off our tits no matter how we display them.

For earlier commentary on the social impact of underwear, please see A Musing: Bras in Space, Boobs in Government

#chelseahandlerbarethosebeauties #readmore

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I give Frank advice about Dick. — Kathleen K.

How does a writer distinguish their work in the minds of the reader?

It comes down to craft.

I give Frank advice about Dick. Word play, puns, simply capitalizing some words changes an adjective to a noun and simple nouns to proper ones.  Bonus double entendre.  Those words come from a fictional sexual consultant so they’re better than clever, they’re truer-than-true!

Erotica and sexotica require structure and function.  Erotica is judged on its impact; sexotica qualifies on content alone.  You must engage the reader sufficiently for them to open their minds and allow the words to flow across their complex receptors.  Pacing and texture work together to engulf the reader, accepting for those moments that the words will work like incantations if followed carefully.

These lines from my books are said back to me (more or less accurately) by fans and reviewers. I know why I hear them again and again: they rang right to me when I arranged them.


“Spread ’em.”
“Spread me.”
I want your fingerprints on me
they’ll be like no one else’s.
You at the vertex
with me in the vortex.
My mother was honored for her role
but not respected for her performance.
Slither hither.
I love you as much as I ever have.
She’s allergic to responsibility.
How do you trust a creature that can bleed for a week and not die?

I am careful to note that “words are arranged” by me and not to claim that I am specifically doing anything new. Like the final sample, said in the context of a man with pre-wedding jitters, fits perfectly even if it isn’t “original.”  It’s apt.  There are layers of references and winky-wink inside stuff to fertilize the imaginations of rowdier readers. Rowdier than WHOM? If Fifty Shades sounds like scandalous writing to you, best you pass on by this vintage Boomer porn.

This is collectible sexotica, it glories in the plain-speaking approach to physique and technique à la Masters and Johnson as spiced up by The Happy Hooker. Those were the days when an excerpt of fiction in Playboy could turn into a steamy bondage movie remembered decades later; and if I said “Pass the butter.” like Brando famously did, a Parisian scene of sex with an asshole flashed in front of you. Three words!! That’s craft!!!



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Studying what we already know: men and women are different.

We have proven the gender difference is neural, cellular, bio-electrical, socio-emotional, and hydraulic.  Our brains are different, our bone mass is different, our hair growth patterns are different.  Over and over we seek to quantify the abyss between men and women.

Book #9 in my collection is the second potcentric sexotic fictional memoir, Stoner’s Bone of Contention, and the narrator examines this gap by diving in.

**** EXCERPT ****

There is not a mere gap between the genders, there is an abyss.

a•byss   [uh-bis]   – noun

  1. a deep, immeasurable space, gulf, or cavity; vast chasm.
  2. anything profound, unfathomable, or infinite: the abyss of time.
  3. (in ancient cosmogony)
    1. the primal chaos before Creation.
    2. the infernal regions; hell.
    3. a subterranean ocean.

You have either been in the abyss or you have not. You might have approached it, examined its edges, sniffed its presence, licked its periphery, but in fact you have either been taken into the abyss between ♂ ♀ or you have not. Virgin or not. We’ve held to that distinction in our life experiences for recorded history. Then we invented all sorts of words to specify how far from virgin you become over time.

Clarifying further, ♂ v. ♀ draws deeper into the elemental differences as if to reflect the polarity of copper and iron. They can be alloys but one does not consume the other (watch for phases). This dichotomy whether of metals or humans can be a topic of conversation but it is not amenable to fundamental change. It is what it is. We are equal but we are not the same.

I am enchanted by the abyss, by that divide between sides, us men and those women. Gays, transgender, spinsters, priests… these folks are straddling a high-wire over the natural canyon of gender, locking into unusual configurations, unable to actually descend fully and freely (and frequently) to that most profound sensation of merging flesh interlocked by nature. I am fully formed and at peace with my choices. Confused people may stumble into the abyss, tumbling down along its edges. Abyss dwellers aim for the deep center of the breach where there is no resistance. To meet in the canyon between genders you must go all the way to the floor to connect with someone(s) from the other side who also descended there. Roiling in the gorge, we surrender to greater forces, the inevitable gravity of sexual connection. We always fall deeper once we tear away our fact-jackets and surrender to our brain-driven bodies.

**** END EXCERPT ****

Erotica, at least the hetero expression, brings focus to the difference in design and motive between the genders even as it shows the human unity in acts of sex∞love.  The neutral fact of gender difference was exploited when men took hold of many “powers” of life (money, property, law) specifically acting as men and more pointedly declaring themselves self-evidently superior versions of the human being.  We can’t untangle that now, together we advanced over time and for that we should be grateful.  Whatever it took to get us to this point has bred a curious, inventive population.  We have such talents!  We can re-balance.  Men were quick to take the big things on like government, commerce, war, but less willing to do the small every-day (every single damn day) stuff like parenting and citizenship.  We’re better off blending our strengths, yin-yang, like twining varieties of ivy.  You can’t let one choke the other.  If you buy the Adam and Eve story then man is the prototype and woman is the archetype.  We can parry and thrust all day about it.  That can be entertaining.  Doesn’t change anything.

What we cannot ignore is the outcome of the current value system that has millions of US citizens in jail, tens of millions of US minors living in poverty, and soul-crushing tax debt for our heirs.  This is economic mayhem systematized into bureaucracies.  Shame on us for following such uncouth leadership.

Violence is still one essential difference in the genders.

“Men are afraid women will laugh at them. Women are afraid men will kill them.

— Nicola Griffith, Hild

The fact is some men will kill women for laughing at them – how dare she!  (And some women do have vicious laughs.)  What we need to do is separate the BIG goal of gender parity from the IMMEDIATE goal of gender détente.  Between individuals there can be accord; we meet and mate as individuals.  Any bonded pair that thinks either member is weaker than the other based on gender will struggle for balance over time.  For love to work, there must be thoughtful consideration given to both sides of the bargain.

“He felt protective of her.  Not because she was weak but because in her strength she was precious.”

— Jeromeo Clover – narrator/character by Kathleen K.

My vivid family fiction books center on deep and abiding relationships without the folderol of overt sex acts; the quote above is from The Lent Hand (Adventures in Beach Town Towing).

“A beautifully woven novel about an unusual boy… and how he learns to be a father, without having really been a son.

A comical, honest love story between two lost souls who complete each other.”

— Kirkus Reviews Jan 2013

The “family” fascinates us, we spy on the workings of our friends and neighbors, gleaning strategy for our own household dance.  My kind of readers like to slip into the world of a book, they want to believe and experience the chances and choices as circumstances evolve.  I let the story roll forward, characters wither or thrive, not everybody wins.

I offer my readers a sense of perspective that does not dismiss all men as brutes nor revere all women as sainted.  Life is much more interesting than that.  There are underlying themes of duty and honor that run through yet each book establishes a world of its own:  a tow truck driver and the women who love him, an empty-nester mom with a second chance at love, a sociable voyeur, a fatherless heir to a family fortune in the hands of her selfish uncle.

I invite you to read.

KathleenKBooks.com ← Click to LOOK INSIDE the books

#erotica #genderdynamics #fiction

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Why Women Are More Likely to Be Bisexual

By Tia Ghose, Staff Writer

updated 6/28/2013 6:48:25 PM ET2013-06-28T22:48:25

Women may be more “hetero-flexible,” or be primarily attracted to men with some same sex attraction, because same-sex behavior allowed women to raise their children with other women, a new study has proposed.

The hypothesis, published this April in the journal Evolutionary Psychology, suggests that more fluid female sexuality may have evolved because it benefited women’s offspring. Some women who were raped or fathered children with absentee or deceased dads formed sexual relationships with other women, which may have made it easier to raise children together, according to the theory.

“Being born with the ability to [be attracted to men and women] may have been beneficial to ancestral women,” said study co-author Barry X. Kuhle, a psychologist at the University of Scranton in Pennsylvania. [ 5 Myths About Polyamory Debunked ]

Not everyone agrees with Kuhle’s hypothesis, pointing to the lack of evidence to support it and suggesting perhaps women’s more fluid sexual boundaries may just be a byproduct of some other evolutionary change. There may be no evolutionary reason for the hetero-flexibility, they say.


COMMENTARY by indie publisher and erotic novelist KATHLEEN K.

Science can assess the purported significance of women’s bisexuality but there is a truth beyond proof in our history.  I wrote about it fifteen years ago as a given.

Coming.  Soon.   ARCHING OVER Collected Collections of Graphic Poetry (July 2013) featuring the following poem:

The sisterhood

not known outside itself

no matter how probingly sought

by the brothers

who face their own fraternal world.

It is the tantalizing promise

to be without wariness

that frees the sisters when away from the misters.

Every man represents

a potential conception

and that, sisters, and brothers,

should freak a right-minded female

into responsible choices

of life-defining impact.

The coupling of women

bears no natural risk

and carries the tradition of succor

that we see in female mammals,

to ease each others births and deaths

and tend the wounds in-between,

to protect others from the world’s hurts

in the common hope of easing our own.

ARCHING OVER encompasses four poetry booklets written between 1984 and 1999… vintage small press alternative literature from back when everything was done on paper.  Publishing was analog, it took time.  Today, in this digital landscape, I will write this today and publish it globally today.

Things don’t percolate, we don’t burnish them anymore.  This evocative poetry has been preened with care, the words arranged with precision.  The essence of poetry is mood play (for me) and I do that by, just for instance, describing sex dog-style with the man barking commands.

The texture is an important element provided by me, but the context is all yours.

I think about putting my hands in your pockets

then forcing down your pants

because I could

because you’d let me.

It’s attitude with gratitude.  Females are flexible, are fluid; women celebrate life and beauty.  Of course we can see the grace and power in each other much more easily than those king-of-the-mountain thinkers who never stop defending their own clout from the spectres of other men.

Kathleen K Books / Kathleen K.xxx

Forcing down your pants. Because I could. Because you’d let me.

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Libertine Literature – the call of the wild to the rowdy

A 17th-Century Sex Manual That’s Legitimately Raunchy

By Rebecca Onion

Posted Wednesday, June 26, 2013, at 8:40 AM

This sex manual, translated from the original French and published in England in 1680, is racy, lewd, and hilarious. Appendix Journal’s Benjamin Breen recently posted about the document after digging it out of Google Books, which offers a fully digitized copy. (Full title: The School of Venus, or the Ladies Delight, Reduced into Rules of Practice.)

In his introduction to an anthology of 18th-century “libertine literature,” literary scholar Bradford K. Mudge points out that written pornography was not uncommon in England in the 17th and 18th centuries. Novels, travelogues, philosophy, and even botanical treatises contained extended erotic passages. In many cases, books with sexual content were published with different title pages or covers to fool authorities who might not approve.

COMMENTARY by indie publisher KATHLEEN K.

Please follow the link to see the frontispiece of this centuries-old libertine literature.  The women aren’t pretty although generally fit, there isn’t a (whole) man in the picture, but the dick-centric message is clear these hundreds of years later.

Nothing is new, folks.  Calm down.  Contemplate.  Take a moment and consider your sexual framework.

My search for the rowdier reader is going well.  I ask those who don’t think of themselves that way to pass my name on to the readingest reader they know.  Within that subset lurk my fellow verbaholics.

I am laying claim to authorship of a sexotic collection of books, I sidestep the erotic designation because I have given up on guessing what turns people on.  Of course, I use erotica as a keyword shortcut, but as you go deeper into my collection you see a world of orgasmic opportunity not often enough celebrated.  Just think about this… or those in there… or that on fire.  Think about it.  It’s pretty basic:  I set up a saucy vignette buffet and you take as little or as much as you have an appetite for, for now.

We’ve contorted our desires into bizarre socially-approved configurations; we emphasize science and law at the expense of craft and choice.  My goal is to evoke thoughts of sex, yes, but is it “sex” as defined by a weed-smoking lover man or by a dutiful housewife being mounted twice-weekly by her husband as scheduled?  Honey B. is a fictitious whore with a distinctive vocabulary and engaging style; Jamie is a spoken-porn simulator with a clear conscience.  It’s all about the permutations of a single theme in libertine literature.

Kathleen K. Books – Info/Buy Links

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Stoner is the guy you want to show up at your party.


Stoner is a good egg; you hope he shows up at your party.  He isn’t flashy but he does do that trick with the hot knives and hash.  He’s the kind of guy you wish your sister-in-law could meet because (a) it would give her something to do besides hang around your house and (b) that chick needs a tune-up and Stoner has the air of an ace mechanic.  You’ve watched him working the women so you know he’s a straight shooter; he’s attentive without being a dog about it.  There’s no backlash on his hookups, there’s not even clear information on when-where-how these things have happened, if they have… [I choose to believe].  He’s got charm, yeah, sure, but it is not some superficial slick that skids you past the details.  He’s through-and-through true.

He shows up with some of the most dazzling dope in town, head-banging shit that defies the limits of what you thought high could be.  Even the steady tokers are careful around his stash.  Respect.  It’s like that country song where some bad-ass party band will never smoke weed with Willie again.  Stoner is our Willie Nelson, not so old but with that same ethereal solidity.  He’s a rock-hard hippie, and glad to be.  He’s hitting on grass grown closer to heaven.  Superior pot and lots of it.  Sweet Mary Jane!  Our own pot is seductive, Stoner’s pot fucks. you. up.

Stoner is releasing a new book.  Count me in.  The first one saved my marriage.

He convinced me to smoke less pot.  I got his book from a friend who was giving them out as Christmas stocking stuffers to her weedie buds.  You’d think his loving descriptions of marijuana would stimulate toking but it refined my use.  I had been wasting a lot of my stash getting buzzed then doing nothing.  Too much blazed gaming for sure.  I turned toking into a sacrament.  I learned to PLAN my highs, more rare and much more productive.  The wasted hours were redeployed into fitness and yard work — my wife loved that!

This got me thinking about Stoner’s ease with women.  What I got out of the book was the thoughtfulness.  I admit I picked up some technical details too.  I read the sexy pages out loud while my wife relaxed in the bath then we’d try to implement those exact notions.  We started to percolate again, we learned how to maintain a simmer and when to reach a boil.  The crazy ups and downs of our mismatched newlywed rhythms settled into a livable life together.

The first book didn’t change my life, I did that.  The book hit me just when I was thinking maybe I ought to change my life.  That long story of his convinced me I could.

Stoner with a boner (It’s a Long Story).  Seriously funny.  Smokin’ hot.  Potcentric sexotic fictional memoir.

Stoner’s Bone of Contention (The Weightless Join) is due for publication in July 2013.

KathleenK.xxx for the rowdier reader.

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