Skip to main content

Ladies, how about Extreme sex in the dark?


“The female angler isn’t the most attractive thing but she’s in the deep deep depths so it doesn’t matter
....desire and deception, lust and fetish, pleasure and pain - it’s all happening beneath the waves”

How would you like to have as many as 11 (yes, eleven) lovers as permanent sex slaves, attached you and let them produce semen at your command? Fun, eh? And it doesn’t matter if you’re butt ugly because you’re simply irresistible.

In the dark. And you have to be this fish.


The Age reports on a book, KamaSEAtra: Secrets of Sex in the Sea by aquatic scientist Sheree Maris. “Desire and deception, lust and fetish, pleasure and pain - it’s all happening beneath the waves,” the book reveails.

One of her personal favourites is the Deep Sea Angler (Melanocetus johnsoni), a grotesque looking fish that lives deep in the ocean.

“The female angler isn’t the most attractive thing but she’s in the deep deep depths so it doesn’t matter,” says Marris.

To attract a male, she secretes a sweet smelling perfume that arouses him so much that he is compelled to pursue and bite onto her.

“This is some extraordinary love bite because he never lets go,” Marris says.

“He becomes fused to her and basically becomes a blob of testicles on her skin.

“She then chemically commands him to release sperm when she wants, so she’s got this permanent sex slave.

“One female brought up from the depths had 11 males attached to her, she was one lucky girl.”

Readers also will learn that the humble barnacle has the longest penis in relation to body size in the world.

“It’s stuck to a rock so it’s going to be pretty hard to meet the opposite sex,” Marris explains.”

So it has this penis that can be rolled out and just go wandering around the rockpools in search of a mate.”




Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Discovery

I believe in the great discovery. I believe in the man who will make the discovery. I believe in the terror of the man who will make the discovery. I believe in the pallor of his face, the nausea, the cold sweat on his lip. I believe in the burning of the notes, the burning of them ashes, the burning of every last one. I believe in the scattering of the numbers, the scattering of them with no regret. I believe in the quickness of the man, the precision of his movements, his uncoerced free will. I believe in the smashing of the tablets, the pouring out of the liquids, the extinguishing of the ray. I assert that all will work out, and that it will not be too late, and that things will unfold in the absence of witnesses. No one will find out, of that I am sure, neither wife nor wall, not even bird, for it may well sing. I believe in the stayed hand, I believe in the ruined career, I believe in the wasted labor of many years. I believe in the secret taken to the grave. For me these words ...
Post a Comment
Read more

Caffeine

Because you do not know me, Francezca, you have every reason to be afraid— afraid because, while you are sleeping, I can be the moon, peeping in from out your window like some lonely lunar voyeur, or some rusty blade or kitchen knife when you feel like ending your life with a quick slash or laceration; because, when you wake up, I can be the toothbrush dangling silently in your bathroom, or the forlorn cotton bud preparing to rid your ears of dust and excessive earwax. This is no time to relax, Francezca— I can be anywhere anytime, anyone and anything you cannot even begin to imagine: the whipped cream on your waffle, the mothballs in your closet, the card tag of your tea bag, the jaundiced shade of moonlight, the moon-cake you hate, the steady staccato of rain, the flush’s fecal fouette, the hair inside your nose, your lip, your mole, black hair and brown irises, white teeth and red gums, your scalp, your skin, even your toenails. What is scary, Francezca, is the fact that you don’t e...
Post a Comment
Read more

Low

It's not happiness, but something else; waiting for the light to change; a bakery. It's a lake. It emerges from darkness into the next day surrounded by pines. There's a couple. It's a living room. The upholstery is yellow and the furniture is walnut. They used to lie down on the carpet between the sofa and the coffee table, after the guests had left. The cups and saucers were still. Their memories of everything that occurred took place with the other's face as a backdrop and sometimes the air was grainy like a movie about evening, and sometimes there was an ending in the air that looked like a scene from a different beginning, in which they are walking. It took place alongside a scene in which one of them looks up at a brown rooftop early in March. The ground hadn't softened. One walked in front of the other breathing. The other saw a small house as they passed and breathed. The reflections in the windows made them hear the sounds on th...
Post a Comment
Read more