Tag Archives: plushophile

Poetry Corner (Warning XXX Explicit Material. Parents Be Warned!)

     Leering Letches and Creepy Crawldaddies,

     Today we ask our Gentle Readers to harken back to those wonderful days when porn was on paper and could be hidden under the mattress. The Golden Age of Porn produced many unique publications, such as the pictured issue of Al Goldstein’s National Screw.

     National Screw, like Playboy, was not only rife with lascivious and salacious material but was found to be ‘socially redeeming,’ thanks to essays by contributors such as William S. Burroughs, Allen Ginsberg and other highly-respected literary figures of the time. The upcoming issue of Beatdom takes aim at the same concept, only without showing close-ups of moist, pink labia in between photos of serious authors. With magazines like these, the joke used to be“I only buy it for the articles.” 

     Good, old smut has pretty much gone the way of the web, with programmes available which allow a user to insert penis into a device which simulates the sensations of the sex act, while watching a video that is synched-up to the ‘pleasure portal’. Just too weird for us at CFYSA…not only does it take away the fantasy that served as stimulus to ‘yank the carrot’, it masturbates you, too.  There are limits to what is good about being a DIY, ‘Do It Yourselfer’.

      That said, we are not sure what kids do these days. In the waning decades of the last century, sex was a popular way for men and women to pass time together. A common way to find and engage a partner in sex was to go to the public park system with beer and pot. Sitting on the lawn, near the parkinglot, a hedonistic type could smoke pot, become inebriated and when an attractive member of the opposite gender passed, ask her if ‘you want to party?’  Most often, we sat on the lawn along the lot, inbetween the parked cars and the Ladies rest rooms, in order to catch more traffic.

     One bright, sunny day, in the company of an idiot and former acquaintance named Chuck, we sucked down Rolling Rock beers and waited to meet some ‘company’. We were rather drunk that early Spring afternoon and our luck was not with us. Halter tops were a popular article of clothing for women to wear at the time and they were a good thing, in that they allowed a partial view of the breasts of the woman who wore one.

     A number of beers into the ‘party,’ Chuck (who is now a red-nosed, fat bastard who cannot even see his toes without a mirror) had a revelation, an inspiration…an original thought! Original thought can be a good thing in the minds of some people. In his mind, the logical conclusion formed that since we, as men, enjoyed the soft, white skin revealed by the halter, then it was only normal that women take just as much pleasure in seeing a bit of scrotum. If they show us theirs, they must want to see ours…this was his logic.

     While the display of wrinkly flesh did not yield results, it was worth a try. Your Humble Narrator did not try sunning his scrotum for fear of blistered balls but did record a partial account of the events of that day. And, so, My Confidantes, today we present a poem which takes us back to those Golden Days of the early 1980s… 

A Day At The Parkway

Jaws of flocks

of the shocked


as Chuck’s cock flopped

onto the top of the rock.

Like prunes?” he mocked.

The eyes of the cop


as loose cumdrops slopped,

then dripped down the walls

of his fetid balls.


I read a book

and pretended not to look.

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These Are NOT Pairs Of Fuzzy White Dicks…OK?

     Kindest Readers and Lowly Reptilians,

     It was recently brought to our attention that the wallpaper on this page is easily mistaken for two fuzzy, white, erect penises! Naturally, you can imagine how aghast we were to think that our Beloved Readers harboured such subliminally filthy thoughts.

     Upon pointing out to one reader that another reader thought the objects (which happen to be the two hind paws of my kool kat, Budderz, as are the tootsies featured above) the second reader blushed and said, “I thought they were penises, too!” Why do my readers look at kitties and see penises? Society, we guess, is the first to blame, with all its vaginas and penises and everything that goes with them.

     Perhaps it should be blamed on the growing mass of Plushophiles, those wacky people who like to dress in fuzzy animal costumes and have sex in public places. They even have their own language…”Yiff,” is how you connect and let a five and a half foot tall woman dressed like a bunny rabbit know that you want to have sex with her. I would imagine it to be a sound to make while having sex with another ‘furry’. We venture to guess that it is an acronym for “Yes I Fuck Furries.’ In the day of MILFs, YIFF gives cougars a whole new meaning. The vernacular of sex has changes so much since youth, when the same old terms had been in use for centuries and were only ‘new’ as we discovered them.

     If we hear the sound of ‘YIFF…YIFF…YIFF…YIFFYIFFYIFF…YIFF…O, YIFF!..yiffyiffyiff” coming from an open window or through the wall of a hotel room, we will understand now. Caution! Furries at play!

         This plushophilia has nothing to do with zoophilia, where a Gentle Reader enjoys having sexual relations with a mammal of a different breed than themself. This is two Gentle Readers dressed like plushy animals and having fun where the holes are cut out in the costumes…or not. Some plushophiles get off just on grooming each other.

     Public perception of this otherwise-normal activity has led to the general conclusion that all people who dress in furry animals suits are primarily motivated to do so as means to a sexual end. Personally, we at CFYSA would prefer a wetsuit, as many human juices do not remove easily from the fuzzy, pink shorthairs.   

    You have to give credit to mankind for coming up with new descriptive phrases and whole new angles on a practice which is anything but new. In some ways, this type of cross-pollination can be amusing…should it mutate too far, however, it could give rise to forms of conduct which we would not dare discuss on this page. When the fecalphiles start coming out of the closet, we hope to be on a cruise someplace far away.

     In the days ahead,we will find new wallpaper to enframe the words on this bit of drollery but until then, enjoy those dicks while you can! God knows there is enough of them out there!!!

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