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Tasty Scoop!

Eat-In®
Adult Playground
on Saturday, March 28th. It’s time to PLAY and start enjoing some economic pleasure! To join this delicious feast click here and become an AMP Member. Only screened members can attend the Eat-In Soirees.

Merchandise

Click here to purchase OLU merchandise or visit OLU’s favorite adult TOY site, Babeland.

OLU's Erotic Photo Book:

Now available on Amazon.com!

Created for a Woman but Sexy Enough for a Man.

The Standard Edition on sale for $60 plus shipping and handling. AMP Member’s ONLY pay $50 plus shipping and handling. With over 180 photos, quotes from member’s essays and the titillations are ongoing! Please allow 1 to 2 weeks for delivery. To purchase a copy click here.

Take a look inside this delicious book by clicking here. Non-AMP Member’s can purchase a copy of OLU's Erotic Photo Book by clicking here and AMP Member’s need to click here or visit Amazon.com.

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Question:
Is OneLegUp GOOD or BAD for boys
and girls?

Answer:
YES, YES and YES!
Now more than ever before…

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Eat-In Soiree
“Adult Playground”
on Saturday, March 28th

Speaking of adults playing in their own makeshift playgrounds; I, Palagia, your sexy president, stumbled upon this write up (written many years ago – one of my favorites) which in my opinion not only reinforces how often we forget – “how to forget” especially with state of the affairs the world is in (this too shall pass), it is paramount that we learn to savor the present, indulge our desires, communicate, feel safe and in no way ever stop playing. This is the moral of OLU’s story…

Therefore, come out and play…become an AMP Member today by visiting www.onelegupnyc.com/online_store.

For more details visit www.onelegupnyc.com/calendar

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Previous Erotica Write-Up
from an Eat-In Soiree

Alice in Palagialand

by Solome

Now undergarments are a beautiful thing. They come in so many colors and shapes and have such clever ways of revealing the body. “How I wish I could play with these people”, Alice would have thought on seeing them so attractively attired. For you see, there were a lot of pretty people around and a lot of nice smiles and Alice would have sensed her body responding to all this life. (Because—she had read that somewhere—s*x is a life force. So the celebration of s*x is, by definition, a celebration of life. Therefore, it would be natural for her body to respond.) “If I only knew how to begin...” And that is the question of all questions, isn’t it? How does life begin? Unfortunately, we don’t know. But it begins and soon we stop asking how because we realize we’re in the middle of it. And there, in the middle of it, in Palagialand, is a wonderful place to be.

In the middle of it is where Cheshire cats devour little pussies, where long-tailed mice tickle canaries’ throats and where little girls like Alice get to play with as many of God’s creatures as she desires. In the middle of it is where couples welcome couples, where women who love men are free to also love women, and where pleasure, in all its many configuration, gets to be the boss.

So perhaps for Alice, the middle of it would have been a blindfolding game taking place throughout course of the evening. A game that wouldn’t have started, per se, but just made itself known, at some point, with no regards to such things as cause and effect or chronological progression. Suddenly, without knowing how she got there, Alice would have found herself lying on her back, underwear removed, blindfold on. Suddenly, as if they had materialized out of thin air, voices would have urged her to relax and enjoy. And then... oh the delicious sensations. Slowly at first, three pairs of eyes and hands and mouths would have acquainted themselves with her skin without Alice ever being able to tell who they belonged to. (Although it is not impossible that she would have recognized a certain touch as belonging to a lover no one ever knew she had.) Then as the line of communication was established (that’s something else she had read—s*x is communication), as each call started to receive the appropriate response, the six hands and three mouths would have pushed their exploration further. One might have chosen to focus on the mouth and the neck. Another, on the small breasts with nipples obviously craving attention. And another yet, on the juicy folds of flesh hiding between her thighs. Alice, shy at first, having never received so much attention, might have wondered if she was not going to melt under these mouths and hands, shrink and disappear altogether. But no. As each pressure, each kiss, each caress confirmed that this was a safe place, she would have given in, taken the journey, and allowed herself to ride the wave her companions created for her. And it is possible that under the ministrations of an expert tongue and the bitter-sweet caresses of hungry mouths, she would have felt—as it sometimes happened with her hand during the night—her legs parting, her back arching and the whole world being reduced to one single unit of space/time... And oh, how good… How so intensely good... Oh.... Oh.... Oh.

And then a smile.

In the beatific but confused state of mind that would have followed this first taste of the forbidden fruit, I suspect that Alice, remembering what the Duchess had taught her, would have looked for the moral of the story. Because—there is no question about it—there is always a moral. “Oh, ‘tis love, ‘tis love, that makes the world go round.” Not quite. “Birds of a feather flock together.” Perhaps, but she wouldn’t have been able to find an immediate application for that. “Do onto others as you would have them do onto you.” Ah! (Alice had always taken great pleasure in using her intellect and so would have been pleased with her finding.) “This is the moral.” And so, eager to be a good girl and to return the pleasure she had just experienced, she, in turn, would have used her eyes and hands and mouth to tell secrets to the bodies who had so lovingly told secrets to hers. (And perhaps she would have shared the secrets she told and the secrets she was told with that elusive lover.) And in between these sharings of secrets, she might have danced, eaten, or rested and watched as others engaged in their own exchange. “And isn’t it interesting,” she would have mused, “how s*x is such an act of giving?” Because one cannot engage with another being without giving some of oneself in return. Just like one cannot breathe in without breathing out.

And I believe that as it got late, as couples started drifting back to the other world, the one beyond the wooden door, the one regulated by the cruel demands of reality, Alice would have sat on and watched cupboards turn into cupboards again and closets into closets. But unlike her sister, sitting in the busy farm yard all those years ago, who had pictured her, in the after-time, a grown woman, holding on to the dream of a long gone Wonderland, Alice would have found her thoughts drifting in a different direction. She wouldn’t have pictured herself longing for a lost childhood. Nor would she have seen herself anxiously anticipating the promises of a distant future. Instead, she would have imagined herself secure in the knowledge that she had earned the right to shape her own present. And in her mind’s eye, she would be too busy savoring this present to bother with what had been or what may one day be.

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