"What’s the most hilariously wrong thing you believed about sex when you were younger?"

Vacuum cleaners, gecko tongues, vaginal tornadoes, and extra-tasty locusts:

When I was a boy, around 8-10 years old, I’d heard about sex but had almost no idea what sex actually involved. Apparently girls have this Thing called a vagina? And apparently my dick goes into it? Somehow? How? At age 8, I’d also had zero idea that erections were a Thing. Wouldn’t one’s dick flop and squidge everywhere? How do grown-ups even manage penetration? A splint, perhaps? How would you even attach it? Internally, perhaps? Is that what urethras are for?

The only mental image, the only reference point my life had thus far bestowed was, you know how when you’re vacuuming? And you’d left out a pair of socks, or some pantyhose? The vacuum cleaner inhales and slurps them in a split-second and you have to battle the cleaner head to get them back.

For a year or two, really-young-me half-decided that’s how vaginas must operate when enticing penises. I’d figured that presumably when grown-up women desire sex, they simply cock a leg and INHALE. A deafening roar kicks off, and the family dog barks himself hoarse, and all penises in the vicinity begin to rise and sway like seaweed, then twirl and whiplash like laundry in a gale, then at last kapow towards their vaginal destiny like gecko tongues converging on an extra-tasty locust.

By the time I’d reached non-virgin time, I’d forgotten all about this and it sadly never occurred to me to ask my then-lover to crank up her own vaginal tornado, more’s the pity, until I hit my mid-twenties and was hosting a party. Drink flowed, chat chatted, life was good.

This exact question came up. And a flood of delightful memories tumbled from me. I recall feeling immensely pleased at making one of my female friends shriek with laughter until she choked on her drink.

Original: https://mikeyclarke.co.nz/blog/2025/8/whats-the-mo...

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Further Reading: The SEXYVERSE NOVELS

IN A WORLD where wars are fought with romance and flirting and delicious erotic TENSION, the rivalries throbbing between history’s Great Powers have become a BUTTLOAD more bubbly, with fewer hideous massacres of musket and cannon, and OODLES more frisky cunnilingus contests:

The Sex Commandos Thwart The Third Vaginal Apocalypse

Part One: The Knights Of Raw Phwoar

Might Earth’s free nations drown under terrifying tornadoes of French femme-foam? Like hell, shout Britain’s Royal Marines Sex Commandos. Let’s assassinate France’s Imperatrix Brigitte Bardot! Come on. What’s the worst that could happen?

Part Two: The Soviet Sluts Superb

Turns out out-flirting Imperatrix Bardot is like trying to wank off Mt. Blanc when it’s wanking you back. Plan B: skedaddle, regroup, out-flirt the entirety of France and get loads more practice, then it’s stealthy-sneaky Round Two or bust.

Part Three: The Cervical Supremacy

Turns out flirting with every ladybro Rambo in France produces Rivals and Frenemies and Jilted Waifus galore. Smashing fun, but utter Kryptonite for Imperial kill-plans. Like, ever tried noshing off a world leader whilst a billion fanb0is fondle your buttocks? Want to? Read on!

Part Four: The Praetorian Prostitutes

The game’s up! The irresistible force of fanb0i-fondlemania has headbutted the immovable object of a gazillion furious Paris cops. They too thirst for Sex Commando patoot. Crunch time. Either launch one final rocket-strike against Bardot and France, or Earth’s free nations forever perish.

Part Five: [soon, baby]

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Crave more bullshit laughs? Click these and enjoy these and your appetites will be SATISFIED. And it’ll make me incredibly happy. You put yummy in my tummy, you know that?