Image via The Re-Penetrator (yes, that’s Joanna Angel).
Today’s SF Chronicle column is both fun *and* practical: How To Make Love Like A Zombie – Violet Blue tells how to get it on like the living dead. Trust me, you’ll need this. Plus, I’m fairly serious about zombie flash mobs being the place to score; not to mention I have my top ten zombie date films in the mix. Snip:
If you’ve ever been in San Francisco for one of our famous zombie flash mobs, then you know just how sexy the undead can be. With no warning, often during business hours, a group of zombie and necrosexual wanna-bes moan, ooze and alluringly shuffle their way downtown looking for…brains. (And this being San Francisco, veggie zombies yearn for… grains.) It’s typically a heady orgy of the living dead in Union Square. Everyone looks hot, or maybe a little cold, but you get my drift. Take it from me: These zombie mobs are hookup central. As the zombies converge and convert the (willing) living into graveyard groupies, clothing gets torn, fake blood gets smeared on exposed flesh, girls and boys make yummy groaning noises, and the quest for brains typically takes them to the Apple store near Market Street.
It’s sexier than a hundred Exotic Erotics, a thousand dismembered mummy hands writing vampire erotica, dirtier than what those people do with pumpkins at homemade-sex-toys.com. OK, so anything is sexier than a hundred Exotic Erotics.
Every Halloween, I’m reminded of my friend who works in a local discount fabric store. It never fails that a week before the 31st, co-eds start coming in looking for help with their costumes. They tell her, “I want to be a nurse…but sexy!” Or, “I want to be Cruella DeVille…but sexy!” My friend finally regained hope for the human race when one day a young woman came in and said she wanted to be a cactus. Until the customer added…”But sexy!”
I have a remedy for all of this. They should really all go die.
Think about it (while you still can). When you’re a zombie, you’re just not in control of your urges. Or the rips and tears in your clothing. What you lack in speed and agility, you make up for in determination — like looking for living morsels to wrap your lips around and nibble a little. You have an innate “can-do” attitude, and you can “do” anyone who looks tasty. Or slow. Or injured.
Being a horny zombie makes the idea of playing with your food that much more appealing. Kinky zombies can take all the lashings, paddlings and spankings they couldn’t stand back when they had pain receptors, and who cares if those handcuffs are cutting off your circulation when you have none? Nipple piercings, no problem! Even autoerotic asphyxiation is a gas when your recently resurrected dominatrix tells you your safe word is “uuuunggghhhhhh.” Hey, your body still works, sorta.
Whether you lost your life from a virus, supernatural forces, an evil mastermind/magician/overlord looking for minions, or just Satan, they can’t take away how (literally) drop-dead sexy you’re going to look in a bloody bikini or disheveled business suit. Just keep in mind that cunnilingus and fellatio may be a hazardous endeavor with those in states of advanced decay (re: biting off more than you can chew, for reals), and “love bites” take on a whole new, more permanent meaning. The great news is that safer sex isn’t an issue; you can’t reproduce unless you spread your government-given reanimation virus, and HIV/AIDS or other sex plagues of the living are a distant memory (like cheeseburgers). But, just because you’re dead doesn’t mean you can forgo the Liquid Silk when you play “hide the bone” in any tight space: a good lubricant will not only make your first fisting a satisfying success, but it will actually allow you to keep your fist attached to your arm when you try to extricate your stuck, brittle body part out of your lover’s cold crevice.
But maybe coming out as a zombiesexual isn’t yet within reach for your relationship. (…read more, sfgate.com)
