hot action

Feel the power of hot action! Hot action is the story of how I got laid and then told a story about getting laid, and then I got laid because of the story I told about getting laid.

On the weekend I ran into a foxy friend who's in town for a little while. She started making some nice comments about this website, and told me about how she's grown to see things in a new perspective since our first encounter [04.25.02].

The things she was saying made me so happy that I took her home and licked her pussy until she came, and then I threw her down and gave her a good rogering and after that we lay and talked for an hour with our legs all tangled together.

She even offered to write a testimonial for me. Here's an excerpt from the email she sent me on Monday:

"When I met Philip in April I had a very dependent/needy boyfriend. The relationship was coming to an end but I was waiting for him to move to make the break. I was fighting with how to handle the situation I was in.
Philip really opened my eyes to the reality that it's possible and Ok to indulge in free love. Although I call myself a hippy, when it came to past relationships I had been a conformist. I was made to believe that if I felt an attraction to someone then that meant I had to be with them. I always felt an unsettled and unfair amount of guilt about my affairs and thought regardless of my instincts I had to try and make it work with one guy. I don't.

This testimonial is to say that without true freedom of affectionate/art and expression I can not be a productive musician/writer. I have come to understand that my art and music need my full attention.... If we don't give ourselves the freedom of possiblity we end up conforming to the 'how it's suppose to be' lifestyle. I have learned to give all the possibilities a chance to inspire me.

My summer was filled with amazing and fulfilling encounters and affairs. The most surprising factor of my summer was the peace and control I experienced based on honesty. I had no guilt about my encounters because I was honest with everyone from the get go.

I don't expect anything from my lovers. I simply enjoy them for the time we have and if it turns out they want to be friends or hang around again.....right on."

Posted by philip at 11:52 PM | Permalink

Monday morning I was lying in bed (alone, as luck would have it) and I just happened to be daydreaming about the beautiful [anonymous] girl. Suddenly I heard a voice downstairs and then footsteps up the hallway, and there was a knock at my door, and who appeared like magic but the lady herself. With a bowl of homemade chocolate chip cookies, no less.

I was blown away that she would appear out of nowhere just as I was thinking about her (let's just say that if she'd shown up five minutes later, she probably would not have wanted to shake my hand). It was certainly an amazing beginning to a Monday.

We made out on my bed while her car was parked out front with the four-way flashers on.

Then she had to leave, and after she was gone I hugged myself and rolled around on my bed and had a mad love affair with my pillow.

Posted by philip at 11:52 PM | Permalink

Pretty soon, though, I had to get up and get ready to go to the TV studio.

I have a friend who's a TV producer. Back when I found out I was going to be doing a taping in the building where she works, I hatched a little plan.

She always shows up at the Marquee when I'm working and tries to make out with me. So I said, "Just you wait. Next Monday I'm going to show up at your work and make out with you."

"Yeah, right," she said. "You wouldn't even get past the front door security."

I just smiled an evil little smile.

And during a break from taping on Monday afternoon, I found my way into her office. My original plan was to have a camera person follow me in. I would storm the office and bound over her desk, and we would make out on national television, much to her surprise. Then I started to take the plan even further. I would bound over her desk and stick my head up her skirt, taking a microphone with me for some cunnilingus colour commentary--a Canadian television first. "Hey, it's dark under here!"

As it turned out, there was no documentation of the event, but it was still worth it to see the look on her face when I strolled into her workspace.

If you want to be famous, it seems like a good idea to make out with a TV producer. "Oh, is this your cubicle?"

Posted by philip at 11:50 PM | Permalink

"What are you smiling about?" she said.

"Hm?" I said. "I didn't realize I was smiling."

"You're standing there, grinning from ear to ear," she said. "What's up?"

"Oh," I said. "I can't tell you."

"Come on."

"I don't know," I said. "No, there's no way..."

"Tell me! Look at you, whatever it is it must be something good."

"Ahh, I would never tell you, if I hadn't had a few drinks," I said. "I was just standing over there by the bar a minute ago..."

"...And?"

"A young lady came up to me and offered to buy me a drink and give me a blowjob."

"Well, it's no wonder you look so happy," she said. I was definitely grinning like a fool. I shook my head and walked away.

I ran into the same woman again a few minutes later.

"Listen," I said. "I'm kind of embarrassed about what I told you."

"Why's that?"

"Well, I don't know... It would be different if you were a guy. But you're a woman, and I don't really know you that well..."

"Don't worry about it," she said. "I don't like being treated differently like that."

"It's these hiphop nights," I said. "Whenever I work them, there's not much for me to do besides drink and get into trouble."

"Nothing wrong with trouble," she said. "Trouble is my middle name."

Hey, that's my line. "Actually, 'trouble' is my first name," I said. "I just go by Philip."

"Heh," she said.

"Anyways, I'd prefer it if you didn't tell anybody what I told you," I said. "I wouldn't want people to think I'm sleazy or something."

"No, that's cool, I won't tell anyone," she said.

I walked away thinking, Yep, she'll tell everybody.

I escaped the bar shortly afterwards. It was thirteen degrees Celsius in Halifax on Friday night. A beautiful night to be outside!

Posted by philip at 07:55 PM | Permalink

A guy from [a certain local band] came up to me the other night at the Marquee. He started asking me about Free Porn, a zine I did last year. He was wondering if I had any copies left and so on.

Then he asked, "So are there any pictures of chicks peeing in it?"

"Uh, no," I said. "Not in this issue."

He started talking about women and urination and all this stuff. At first I thought he was joking around. But then he mentioned an experience one of his bandmates had had recently with golden showers. He seemed kind of excited about it. If he was joking, it was apparently the sort of joke that he thought about quite a bit.

Finally I pointed to a J.J.'s-looking woman on the other side of the room and said, "You see that chick in the white t-shirt? She's really into peeing."

He said, "She is?"

"Oh yeah dude, everybody knows about it. She even dumped her last boyfriend because he wouldn't let her pee on him."

He watched her for a minute. "Do you think she'd let me pee in her mouth?" he said.

"Oh ho ho, now, I don't know about that," I said. "Well... y'know, I suppose the worst she could do would be to say no."

Then the young woman went up the stairs. And the guy went right up after her.

I didn't stick around. Yes I am a bastard.

(The hot action guide to peeing: I have never thought about peeing in a sexual way in my life.)

Posted by philip at 04:56 PM | Permalink

Yesterday, I mentioned that I love meeting women who have already read this website. Today, all I can say is OH my god.

[details removed owing to anxiety of her husband's friends]

[but it happened... and it was wonderful]

It felt like the best night of my summer. It didn't happen until November... but I am a patient boy.

Posted by philip at 05:28 PM | Permalink

On Saturday night, I left the Marquee with a woman who decided not to go home with me because what she really wanted was "a boyfriend."

The curse of late November is in full effect.

I'd met her in passing last week. Friend of a friend. On Saturday night I ran into her again and we started talking and flirting pretty heavily. She had lovely eyes, full of mischief, and a devilish smile.

Before long, we were sitting and making out. I asked her if she wanted to leave with me and she said yes.

(An aside: ladies, if you're making out with a guy in a bar and he asks you if you want to leave with him, that means he expects that the two of you will be going home together. Don't be surprised if the guy gets a little annoyed if you get outside and announce that you want to get a cab home by yourself. Of course a woman has a right to change her mind whenever she feels like it; but c'mon, if you want a boyfriend, don't leave the bar with a confessed dogaholic.

The guy is annoyed because he does not relish the thought of going home alone at that point. Nor is he thrilled at the prospect of walking back into the bar alone, with his tail between his legs, five minutes after his friends watched him leave with a total sex bomb.)

Out there on the street we got to talking about different things, monogamy and boyfriends and so on. And soon we were making out again.

I said, "So let me get this straight, you want a boyfriend, but in the meantime you'll settle for making out with a stranger in a doorway on Gottingen Street and putting your hand down his pants and feeling his cock?"

Her jaw dropped open in shock and she turned around to storm away and immediately fell flat on her face on the sidewalk. She was completely embarrassed as I helped her up. "Oh my god, I've totally blown it," she said.

"Whatever," I said. "It's the winter, people fall down all the time."

So we wound up going back into the bar together and having a drink and talking for almost another hour. It seemed like in her mind there were only two options: "monogamy" or else "one night stand that is cheap, forgettable, degrading..." (pick your adjective).

I sort of explained my point of view on things and tried to make sense of it for her. It did take some explaining (another aside: god it's nice when I meet women who have already read this website).

She had tried promiscuity for a while but got bored of it; in a monogamous relationship, the sex just gets better and blah blah blah. Our conversation kept getting interrupted by bouts of smooching. She was a really horny woman.

Over the course of our chat, I watched two hot women that I know leave the bar with gross-looking guys. They avoided eye contact when they walked past my table. I tell you, the November curse has a terrifying grip on the women of my city.

Finally I put on my sweater and coat and got up to leave. It doesn't seem very sexy to sit and try to argue someone into sleeping with you. If you're not compatible, you're not compatible.

"So that's it?" she said. "There's not going to be any kind of conclusion, or wrap-up?"

I said, "No, there isn't." How could there be a conclusion, when she wouldn't even let anything get started?

I gave her a kiss and told her I thought she was cute. We shared a wistful look. Then I turned around and walked out of the bar.

Posted by philip at 05:35 AM | Permalink

I've had a number of women say that to me this year--that they'd immersed themselves in a promiscuous lifestyle and gotten "bored" of it, and now they find sex in a committed relationship to be better (oh yeah--and your boyfriend didn't even touch you for the last six months you were together).

Sometimes you can add up the long-term boyfriends and the confessed eight-month dry spells, and come to the conclusion that all this free-lovin' recklessness must have occurred during a three week period in the summer of 1996. Not that I think the ladies are frontin', but I suspect that some women may have different definitions of "promiscuity" than I do.

Sexual pessimism takes many forms... none of which I can relate to.

I'm sleepy right now and this is turning into a whole different essay. I just hope that if you had a crappy one-night stand in March and a crappy one-night stand in June, it's not going to prevent you from having a torrid sizzling affair with me in December.

Posted by philip at 05:16 AM | Permalink

The hot action guide to sending Philip Clark an email.

I'm always happy to discuss issues from this site over email. Feel free to tell me a little bit about yourself. God knows, if you've been reading this you know an awful lot about me by now.

Lately people have been sending me anonymous emails. I don't mind anonymous comments or posts to the messageboard. But if we're going to communicate one-on-one, I'd at least like to know your first name.

The whole point of this site is that it's a good thing to be direct about what you want. You shouldn't have to waste time and energy on mind games and secret motives.

I've engaged in correspondances before with anonymous women. As it turns out, they just wanted to be part of something sexy despite the fact that they had something to hide (e.g., a boyfriend). You might think I'd be into that, but in practice I found it kind of sketchy.

These days, I usually don't reply to anonymous email at all. I am far more likely to be intrigued by a woman who says what she means and signs her name to it. Confident women are better in bed anyway.

Posted by philip at 11:57 PM | Permalink

Time for a hot action poll. Feel free to respond with any comments.

Ribbed condoms. Can you feel a difference?

Posted by philip at 06:03 PM | Permalink

Countdown to December...

The last week of November is when all the girls in Halifax go out and get boyfriends. That's pretty well established by now.

The first three weeks of December: traditionally, the worst time of the year to get any action in this city. The women are too preoccupied with new boyfriends, exams, xmas preparations and clinical depression.

Normally in December, I'll stay at home in my room and light a black candle and wait for the whole thing to blow over. (All that repression explodes the week of Dec. 26 - Jan. 1, which is the sexiest week of the year in Halifax.)

This year, though, I'm doing things a bit differently. I'm starting a club called the December Group.

December is a time of darkness and mystery. It has the longest nights of the year; perfect for "group activities" ...for those who are qualified for such things.

The goals of the December Group are: to watch, and to be watched; to control, and to be controlled; to please, and to be pleased.

I am looking forward to the best December ever.

Posted by philip at 06:00 PM | Permalink | Comments (1)