Picnic Table Lover

Dear The E-Spot,

I have just purchased a sexy new picnic table (see above), which now sits outside my house on my deck. The problem is that I am crazy about her. Yes, I think of the table as a woman and have become obsessed. At first I just caressed the table, and enjoyed pulling the umbrella in and out of its hole. But soon, unbenown to my wife, I started to, well, to have sexual impulses towards this table. Pretty soon I was making excuses to my wife, running out onto the deck and rubbing myself up against the table like a dog on heat. I keep wondering how it would feel to make love to this table, to slip my penis into the table's hole and make sweet sweet music. Please help me, because I am going crazy with worry. I mean, am I sick, or do other people feel like this about picnic tables? And do you think I would get this out of my system by fucking the table?

From
Brett with the Big Baguette


Dear Mr Baguette,

Wow! That is one good looking table you have there. Very smooth corners and an exceptionally caressable finish. I can see where you are coming from. This table is very provocative indeed.

Now to put your mind at rest: Are you sick? No. Are there others like you? Absolutely! There are many people to whom a good looking table presents an erotic challenge second to none. Tables aren't just for eating off, now are they, Mr Baguette?

But before you launch yourself onto the object of your affections, there are a few things you should know. I believe there was a gent called Art Price of Ohio who recently had similar strong affections for a picnic table with a very provocative hole, just like yours. He regularly went out on his deck naked, (which incidentally was across the street from a school), flipped the table on its side and relieved himself in a sexual manner in the hole.



Now, there is no doubt that he and maybe even the table had a high old time doing this. But there were problems (aren't there always?) and in this case the problem was a nosy neighbor who had nothing better to do than film all the Cock on Table Action and send the tapes to the local police. Well, it wasn't long before the long arm of the law hauled in Mr Price and stopped his fun:


So, my advice for you Mr Baguette, is that if you want to make sweet music with this table, don't do it outside while stark naked. Take the dear thing inside. And if you do get caught by the wife here are ten of the best excuses:

1. Got all worked up after looking through the IKEA catalog

2. C'mon, did you see that picnic table?

3. I was refinishing it and things just got out of hand

4. Just broke up with the pool table and didn't want to be alone

5. If you're gonna arrest every man who's had sex with a picnic table, you're gonna have to build a hell of a lot more prisons

6. Was curious if I could have sex with anything more flat and lifeless than you darling!

7. Hey, a man has needs

8. My doctor said I have Restless Nuts Syndrome

9. It's not like I spent $4,000 for a hooker

10. Well, it was our anniversary

Also, I was so moved by all this that I wrote a song called
Picnic Table Lover

Your round hole
Is too beautiful to hold
The umbrella pole
Every time I see you I get wood
My heart beats hard when I caress
Your shapely legs
Picnic Table
You are too pretty
Just to eat Bologna sandwiches off
I need to put my baguette
In your beautiful crevice
Oh oh oh
You're perfect as you are
All we need is a dab of mayonnaise
And maybe a dill pickle
To seal the deal

Good luck from
The E-Spot

The E-Spot is a problem page for people who are tired of the wishy-washy pscychobabble of Dr Phil. Please email me your problem at emma.theespot@[remove]gmail.com (please say if you wish to remain anonymous). Please also note that your problem will be treated with no sensitivity whatsoever.

Penis Enlargements on the NHS?

The E-Spot is a problem page for people who are tired of the wishy-washy pscychobabble of Dr Phil. Please email me your problem at emma.theespot@[remove]gmail.com (please say if you wish to remain anonymous). Please also note that your problem will be treated with no sensitivity whatsoever.

I thought it was pretty obvious that my problem page was a piss take, but evidently some people are under the impression that I am a really empathetic person and won't rip the piss. Okay. Whatever. Basically, this bloke, let's call him Gordon, wrote to me from the UK the other day (my initial thoughts as I read it are in brackets):

Dear E-Spot,

My penis is only 4.3 inches long and slim too! I know that is well below average for size but how many guys in general would you find as small as me?

[how should I know? I don't exactly put up ads on Craig's List saying: Small Dicks Wanted]

Is there any enlargement methods that are not a complete con and do work?

[I sell a penis pump on my site and two men who bought it wrote to me and said it worked but I didn't ask for pictures.]

Should I consider surgery and would they do that on the NHS?

[No and no.]

It's an issue because as far as the opposite sex is concerned I have all but given up.

Yours,
Gordon

Well, I assumed he was taking the mick - well, wouldn't you? I mean, the guy lives in the UK and is asking me if penis enlargement surgery is available on the NHS? Of course it isn't, I mean a small dick is hardly a matter of life and death, now is it? You don't get many 999 emergency calls from small membered guys attempting to penetrate their girlfriends. Okay maybe you do but they don't usually send an ambulance round, sirens blazing, while the operator screams: "Step on it! There's a guy in there who's a 4 point 3! Yes you heard me correctly, I said a 4 point 3! Get round there with the Penis Extender and make sure you take four strong men to operate it! Get on it! We've got to get him up to a six by dawn!"

Another factor against penis surgery is that no one in their right mind would submit themselves to it (it involves severing ligaments). In fact, there is evidence that some penis enlargement operations have caused such damage to the penis that it is difficult or impossible to ever get an erection afterwards.

So I write back, a bit pissed off:

Try the penis pump on my site. Some people claim it has helped them but don't take my word for it.

At which point Gordon blows a gasket:


I ask you some serious questions and you just refer me to an advert on your site? Thanks for nothing!

Okay Gordon, calm down. I am going to assume you are serious. And I know that some of you girls will say, "Oh, don't be so hard on him," but to these girls I will say - if you got into bed with a guy who had a penis that small, well, let's face it, you'd be appalled. Maybe you'd be nice about it and say, "It isn't too small, really," before running off into the night, but you still wouldn't want to get involved because, as they say in Devon, 'You can't stir butter with a toothpick.'

There is no real logic to this aversion women have to small willies. Fact is, you don't need a penis to give a woman an orgasm. Fingers, tongues and sex toys are all perfectly adequate and I'm pretty sure that lesbians don't toss and turn wishing their girlfriends had penises. Consequently, I'm going to guess that the reason a small penis is such a turn off is just that it's not manly, it's not masculine. So yes, Gordon, if penis enlargement surgery worked (and it may very well in the future), then maybe it should be available on the NHS.

Probably the only way to get around this problem, Gordon, is to become friends with a woman and really get her to fall in love with you before you go to bed with her, because then there is a good chance that when you whip it out she will say, "No biggie."

Any other suggestions for Gordon?

Feel Jane's Pain

The E-Spot is a problem page for people who are tired of the wishy-washy pscychobabble of Dr Phil. Please email me your problem at emma.theespot@[remove]gmail.com (please say if you wish to remain anonymous).

Yes, I want to talk about the rich today. And how they suffer. For example, imagine how you'd feel if you got a $67,000 Lexus for your birthday as this teen did.. And now imagine the shocking disappointment to find it was delivered on the wrong day. You'd be crying too, of course.



I think it's high time we had some sympathy for rich people such as Lady Jane, who wrote to me the other day in deep distress. Thankfully, this was an easy question to answer, but before you dismiss rich people as just spoilt brats with nothing to complain about, think again. Even rich people need your sympathy.

Did you know that these are the three most common forms of suicide amongst rich people:



1. Cocaine - alas many have too much money and can only buy the highest quality coke. Consequently they do not OD because the coke is not cut with floor cleaner etc.

2. Many rich women have fatal horse riding accidents. Fatal for the horses, yet, alas, the ladies are usually quite unharmed.

3. Car crash in daddy's sports car under the influence of drugs/drink.

But did you also know that many rich people are too proud to just kill themselves and suffer in silence. And if you think you can help Lady Jane, do go right ahead, but I think I've got this one sewn up.

Dear The E-Spot,

I am 26 and thoroughly fed up with the rut of unhappiness in which I've been stuck for a long time. I believe a lot of my troubles stem from the fact that my parents did almost nothing to prepare me for life after school.

Having vast sums of cash can stir great depths of guilt, unworthiness and resentment. I was pushed through a boarding school, where I was badly bullied. My father gave me no encouragement in the one thing I loved, horse-riding. I was totally unprepared for what came next - a large amount of money in a trust fund and no advice about what to do with it.

I feel very angry with my parents, particularly my father. Their inability to talk about money was a major factor in their divorce.

His unspoken view is that it is desperately vulgar to discuss money, while my mother let him make all the financial decisions.

Since graduating from university, I've had a series of pointless, badly paid jobs, interspersed with some volunteer work for charities, while living between my parents' homes.

I think it's good for me to be employed but, since I don't need the money, there is no motivation for me to stick anything out.

I suffer from severe anxiety attacks, mood swings and bouts of depression. I have tried various therapies, but I refuse to take any medication. I don't want to surrender ownership of my emotions to some pharmaceutical company.

I feel there is no one I can talk to, though I sometimes ring the Samaritans. Because I have not actually earned my money I have no concept of its worth, and I feel like my trust fund manager is a fire-breathing dragon.

I would like to make a home of my own, but if I spend my money on a house it would mean having to forgive my father and be grateful. I feel locked in a cycle of despair. If you could give me just a few nuggets of impartial advice I would be immensely grateful.

Lady Jane

Dear Lady Jane,

While I sympathize with your plight, I'm going to go all Eastern on you. It's pretty obvious that the burden of having too much money lies heavily on your Prada-clad shoulders. It's also equally obvious that, as Buddha once said, "the only way you will find enlightenment is by giving away your worldly goods and living a life of meditation and wearing only a hair shirt." If you are still living in your house in Chelsea, that's fine, just move out and live in a dog kennel at the end of your garden and let your six storey town house be inhabited by the homeless. You will feel much better immediately!

I know, I know, you're wondering what to do with your cash. Well, let me save you a huge amount of bother. Send the whole huge cheque to me at The E-Spot, PO Box 4567, New Delhi, India. It will be put to good use.

God bless you my child! And good luck.

The E-Spot

A Rich Bitch Reveals that the High Life is Not All Golden Showers and Glittery Balls

The E-Spot is a problem page for people who are tired of the wishy-washy pscychobabble of Dr Phil. Please email me your problem at emma.theespot@[remove]gmail.com (please say if you wish to remain anonymous).


Dear E-Spot,

I don't wanna reveal my name because I'm an heiress and kinda a role model to young girls everywhere. Hang on a sec, let me get my chihuahua Banjo out from between my legs. Where woz I?

I don't want to be boastful, but I am one of the most beautiful women of all time. I even had a blow up sex doll created after me which was an honor, so now guys can masturbate over me (I did a sex tape once), as well as in me. I am also an incredibly successful business woman whose latest project is launching a nightclub called Skank which will be the concept Moulin Rouge meets Manhattan. I also do a lot of work for charity and run an orphanage for brain damaged dogs who are too dangerous to be kept as pets.


So where is my problem? Everyone is always saying I was born with a silver stool in my mouth and that's how I got to be so famous. I never get that, how can you get a stool in your mouth? Anyways ....Banjo, stop chewing my toe! Banjo's one of the brain damaged chihuahuas I rescued from the dog orphanage. When I'm feeling lonely, I put a doggy treat on my lady parts and he licks and chews at it for hours. Sometimes he goes nuts and bites but usually he's a great little pet. Where woz I?


I wanna have a high flying career but don't know what to choose. After I saw this pic I kinda thought it might be cool to be an astronaught but then I heard the costumes aren't really that neat and also you have to wear a diaper when you're up in space to stop your shit flying about. They must eat really light crispbread up there so as your turds fly in the air, but anyways, I didn't feel like wearing diapers under my micro-mini skirt, so that was out. But what I am trying to say is, what kind of career do you think I am suited to? I don't mind studying. I have a real big brain and I wanna use it not just my body.

I would love to have a really hot career like all you normal people. I really want to give back to society. I am crying here. Can you help me?

Paris Stilton
xxxx

Dear Ms Stilton,

After careful consideration, I do believe a career as a performance artist is in your future. The artist Allen Jones previously created the works below from fibreglass, but I believe your ability to do nothing and look vacuous for hours, as well as your shapely legs, would mean that you could earn a great deal of money being a living sculpture. I suggest you start practising by getting into the following positions:

(NB: This one can be performed with your sister):


Suggested title: Nicky and Paris Always Threw the Best Cocktail Parties


Suggested title: When Alec flew first class he always sat on Paris' Seat

If being a living work of art does not appeal, a blogger called Electro-Kevin has said he will pay you to clean his house in a kinky costume. I have already taken the liberty of designing an outfit for you:



I think both these careers would greatly enrich your life and bring pleasure to millions, thereby allowing you to give back to society in a charitable capacity.

Yours,
The E-Spot

Does the Male Multiple Orgasm Exist?

I know that some of you may think that I make these problems up, but I don't. Fact is stranger than fucktion, as it were. Today I found this rather desperate missive in my in box. Yes, he has a lot of problems. But I'm a caring sort and I'm going to sort the poor lad out.

Dear E-Spot,

Sometimes I wake up in the middle of the night in a cold sweat wondering, am I normal? Please help!

Thanks so much for your time

Cross-Eyed When I Cum


Dear Cross-Eyed When I Cum,

Calm down. JUST CALM DOWN. Emma is here to sort you out. Now then, what's all this fuss about?

1.I have a terrible problem with my partner laughing at me when I orgasm - perhaps it's something to do with the fact that I go cross-eyed at the key moment?

That's a no brainer. Do her doggie style so she can't see your ridiculous face when you come. If for some reason you do not enjoy doing her from behind, you could wear a paper bag on your head while you do her missionary, or, if you are an agoraphobic, maybe she could wear the bag. You could also glue different pictures of porn stars onto the paper bag too, thus increasing your arousal...Think of the fun you could have. Instead of fantasizing about Jenna Jameson you would be making love to her!




2.I have a penchant for my partner wearing just pearls, tennis socks and rubber gloves when I make love to her, is there anything wrong with this?

No. But do start to worry if you find yourself unaccountably aroused by men in fingerless leopardskin gloves and skin tight pink spandex. These are early symptoms of SigueSigueSputnikitus, a disease which, when full blown has horrific symptoms including an inability to realize that heavy metal music is total rubbish as well as a compulsion to quote Des'ree lyrics such as these in public places as if they were Shakespeare when in fact they are in fact, shite:

'See the man, over there, He's a Leo,
check his hair. Virgo eyes. Aries smile.
I like the Leo. Check his style'.

3.Is there such a thing as the male multiple orgasm? How far apart do they need to be to qualify as being 'multiple'?

To qualify as multiple, the orgasms need to occur within a fortnight of each other. If you have to have a cup of tea, a full night's sleep or a three course meal between orgasms that does not count as 'multiple.'

Personally, and yes I know I am not a man, I have never quite seen the point of multiple orgasms. Okay, so I can sometimes masturbate and have three or four orgasms a few minutes apart, but I cannot say that there is the same level of satisfaction from a few piddling little ones as from one stellar one that feels like your groin is about to explode and your cranium is going to hit the roof, if you know of what I speak.

I asked a male friend about whether male multiple orgasms exist and he said he can have multiples, but he agreed with me, that they are not as intense as one isolated one. He says that this is how he does it: When you are having intercourse and are almost about to come, say, more than two seconds from ejaculating, stop thrusting and just keep your penis in her vagina and relax. You will still come...but hold on, do not start pumping again. The orgasm will happen. You're basically having a partial orgasm. Now you will still be hard and if you wait a little while before you start thrusting again, you will come again. The second one is not as intense as the first one but it is still great to come off twice.

I am sure there are some of you out there who can give Cross-Eyed more advice on this.

Peter Stringfellow takes a roasting

4. Is it true that older men make better lovers? Though I am well preserved, at forty-two years I now find myself creaking and aching in places that I didn't before. Yes, we are slower and more tentative in our love making - 'cause we don't have a bloody choice!

I'm afraid I am very much of the opinion that I have to have a young lover. My husband is twenty-eight (to my thirty-six) and I only have to glance at him in a certain way and he has an erection. This is bloody useful when you have kids and often have to resort to five minute sex while they are busy eating ice cream in the kitchen or busying themselves with torturing the local cat. If I had to stoke an erection for minutes I think I would simply not have the patience. Simply put, yes I have had sex with older men and most did not really do it for me, the erections took some work to get up and then sometimes they'd lose them mid-thrust and it was quite a yawn. Although my experiences are by no means typical and I'm sure there are older men who are spectacular lovers. I just only experienced a couple who were good. Also, when you are the much younger girl having sex with a man twenty years plus older than you, it is a bit unequal, they do all these 'tricks' that have obviously worked on someone over the years, and expect you to moan and groan when really you think, "That isn't my G-Spot, so can you stop vibrating your finger up my snatch because it's pressing on my bladder and I'm going to wet myself if you keep it up much longer."

Hope all this has put your mind at rest.

Love always,
Emma

Please, dear readers, feel free to give Cross-Eyed more advice on this matter. And please, if you have a problem, send it in. Write to me at emma.theespot[remove]@gmail.com and please say if you wish to remain anonymous.

Voyeurism in the Burbs

Dear E-Spot,

My wife and I have been enjoying the pleasures of the flesh with another married couple. They have a grandmother living in their home, so we generally get together at our house.

This adds wonderful variety to our sex lives. Sometimes it's me and the other guy, sometimes the two wives, sometimes me and the other wife...well, I think you get the idea.

Before you think we are a bunch of slutty kids, we are not all jumping into bed together. But this is where the trouble starts. The two gals like to soak in the big bathtub, where they can relax with candles and bubbles. The other guy and I like to start our fun in the hot tub, out on our backyard deck. Our friends are really into water, but I digress. So, what's the problem, you ask?

My guy pal loves getting up close and personal on the deck and frankly so do I but, oh, those neighbors. I've seen them many times on their deck, getting cozy and romantic (wink, wink), but now that they've popped out their 2.5 children, suddenly they are prudes. They've gone all radical-Christian and intense-GOP on us and started complaining and gossiping about us using our own deck.

It's not like we are in the front yard at noon, this is evening, in our own backyard. I didn't ask them to stand in their windows with binoculars staring at us. I put some bushes in pots along that side of the deck, but then they went to their upstairs windows. While we enjoy the fresh air, the dude loses momentum with the binoculars focused on his bum.

But wait, it gets worse. The Prude family has been discussing this with the couple on the other side of the alley, and now the other-siders are suddenly getting all friendly and hinting they want to join us. You might be saying Woo-Hoo Parteee Tyme but that wife is totally eeeenormous and confided to my wife that she has a herpes problem. AND the husband has an artificial leg and a bionic hand from his war injuries. I don't want to seem unpatriotic but I'm just not into that scene. Does that make me a bad American?

But really, how can I politely discourage them?

Sincerely,

No-tan-lines in the Burbs



Dear No-tan-lines in the Burbs,

I sympathize with your problem, I really do. There you are, your average suburban swinger, getting his nuts grabbed in the hot tub by your friend, when you feel a telescopic lense being trained on your crown jewels. It's just not fair, is it?

But, and this is the big but, as an American living in the Burbs, you simply cannot have your cake and eat it. It's not for nothing that celebrities have huge properties that are totally secluded and cut off from prying eyes, where they are free to have al fresco sex with everyone from chimps to Tommy Lee, without a pair of binoculars being trained on their arses.

I once met this woman in London, who told me that she and her husband liked to play a game when they went out to dinner. They would have the first course and then, before dessert was served, the wife would go to the restroom, remove all her clothes and then come back and take her seat opposite her husband. She would sit there and see how long it took for anyone to notice, getting hugely turned on, because she was a massive exhibitionist. Sometimes other diners were aroused by the spectacle, but usually people would get angry, and yes you've guessed it, the game always ended with them being kicked out of the restaurant.

And therein lies the rub. I know that you and your friend are only following your natural urges, which, let's be frank, are a little exhibitionistic, since you like to expose yourselves in all your glory in the tub. Why be surprised then, when you awaken the interest of the God-botherers on one side, and pique the erotic interest of the freaks on the other?

If you are hell bent on frisking people outside then, quite honestly, you really need to move to Europe. I remember in Paris, watching numerous couples screwing in the apartments opposite, with windows and shutters flung open. And I'm sure not one person gave a monkey's or even found it titillating, because in France, and in many other European countries, sex is not a sin as it is here, and consequently, watching people do it does not hold the forbidden lure it does here.

If you cannot afford a move to Europe, then you must take your orgy inside. I'm sorry to be harsh, but there it is. You have already attracted the erotic attentions of the herpes ridden wife and her bionic husband. There is no need to tell them you would rather share bodily secretions with a cockroach than with them, simply take the party indoors, draw the blinds and learn put the reins on your sexual appetites.

Best,
Emma

Please, dear readers, feel free to give No-tan-line more advice on this matter. And please, if you have a problem, send it in. Write to me at emma.theespot[remove]@gmail.com and please say if you wish to remain anonymous.

Bollock Holes

Dear the E-Spot,

I... have a problem.

I am not wearing any trousers.

This is not due to any kind of perversion or sexual deviancy (I am sure much to your disappointment), but due to the fact that once again I have worn two small holes between my legs to such an extent that they are now unwearable. I now have no pairs left. (My previous 4 pairs all succumbed to this fate and I am very fussy about which jeans I like so have not yet been able to replace any...! Curse you fussiness!)

What happens is that my bollocks rub through and eventually the holes get too big. I attempted to run up some stairs in my last pair and actually tore a hole right from my arse to my knee. Not good - I was four miles from home, and I don't drive.

Am I some kind of freak...? I don't think my balls hang particularly low, nor can I swing them "to and fro" or indeed tie them in a bow (to paraphrase a traditional English country ballad).

Maybe they are really heavy? How can you weigh them without chopping them off?

Or maybe they are really course and sandpapery.

Or maybe I buy shite jeans?

Your counsel would be most appreciated, O E-Spot.

Yours,

Chris

PS Shit actually maybe I should use a pseudonym... you can call me Don
Incognito.

PPS Actually never mind, I have no shame.

PPS Help!


Dear Chris Don Incognito,

Without knowing the size of your nuts, dear Sir, I cannot answer this problem with any real confidence (not that I am suggesting you send me a photo of your crown jewels, I am not, but I have got to confess that I think they must be unfeasibly big or hang in a wierd way, because quite frankly, after a quick straw poll amongst some males of my acquaintance, not one of them said they had ever encountered a problem such as the one you describe).



After I thought about your problem for a bit, a light bulb went off above my head. Have you, perchance, recently been in a storm and been hit by lightning? I only ask, because as some of you ex-readers of Viz may recall, it featured a character called Buster Gonad. As I recall, during a storm, Buster's gonads were zapped by cosmic rays, which enlarged them to an unfeasible size. His special powers included the ability to bounce over small obstacles (are you finding this to be the case Chris?) If you do discover, after maybe showing your bollocks around some night at the pub when things are a bit dull, that the general consensus amongst your friends is that you have massive nuts - you may simply have to do as Buster Gonad did, buy yourself a wheelbarrow and laugh at your misfortune. If you cannot laugh, I suggest you go to a doctor to discuss ball shrinking surgery (which may well be possible on the NHS if you claim it is interfering with your sex life).





If you are sure unfeasibly large gonads are not the issue, then I can only shake my head in disbelief at what kind of quality of trousers you are buying. Are you buying them off the back of a lorry from Del Boy or something? Just invest in some really good quality ones (tip: spend over twenty pounds). And if all else fails, start wearing skirts. Only you, or maybe to be on the safe side, Juliet, can judge if you look more like David Beckham or Elton John in a frock. The former can carry off the look off, the latter cannot.


Emma says: "Don't penny pinch when it comes to your trousers. If you wear cheap spandex you will not only get unsightly bulges in the wrong places, but your nuts will explode through the fabric."

Hope this helps!

Emma

Please, dear readers, feel free to give Chris more advice on this senstive matter, and also, please check out his rather spiffy blog.

If you too need brutally honest answers to life's tough questions please email me at emma.theespot[remove]@gmail.com