I’m Dreaming of a Wet Christmas…and this “Orgasm Operetta for a Hip Hop Squirting Holiday” (playing now on RadioSuzy1TV) erupts with a glorious baptism of sweet amrita spurting from the lovely loins of eternally young grandma-turned-porn-star and Temptation Radio DJ Tai Ellis, assisted by Michelle Aston, voracious lesbian with fantastic tatts and quite nice tits.

ORGASM OPERETTA 4 A HIPHOP SQUIRTING HOLIDAY!

Tai’s is the first champagne to be uncorked for this holiday show, and many more follow, features the most kinds of free-style squirting we’ve ever had here at the Speakeasy in one night, maybe a record for the industry, with female ejaculation performances of tsunami proportions by at least five different women, Tai, Michelle, Jennifer, Kayla Raynes and our amazing red-haired rainforest sweetheart Annie Body. I say “at least five” because there is so much happening at this show, there is no way that I can see it all, and I know there are other squirting ladies in other corners of the Speakeasy. There’s squirting at the bar, squirting on the Love Rocker, on the couch, in the harem bed, on the Saarinen Womb Chair (where my father used to read the paper every evening), and on the rug in front of my show bed. The show bed itself is absolutely soaked with gallons of female ejaculate spurting forth from these unbelievably sensuous, practically fearless, erotically outrageous, sexual sisters of the 21st century, and it smells like spring showers. With this show, and all the other Squirt Salons we’ve done here, I think I can now pronounce the Speakeasy the Squirting Capital of the World.

Kayla Raynes Squirts in the New Year at our Orgasm Operetta.

Besides squirting, another uniquely marvelous element of this holiday show is the singing. Now, I’m not talking about the usual drunken carolling of the season, oh no. I’m talking about the brilliant music and lyrics of Julien Nitzberg and Roger Neill’s satirical operetta “The Beastly Bombing: A Terrible Tale of Terrorists Tamed by True Love” featuring formidable opera star Jesse Merlin as the wickedly hilarious chickenhawk President of the United States, flanked by his mincing, singing Secretaries of State (Natalie Salins) and Defense (Joel Bennett). I discovered The Beastly Bombing a few weeks ago in Hollywood, and I’m delighted to see the unlikely and yet ever-so-natural mix of Orgasm and Operetta at the Speakeasy. Both are passionate forms of expression that involve a lot of intense vocalizing. Jesse’s powerful, penetrating baritone commands the entire Speakeasy of carousing revelers and orgiasts, not an easy task. Even the female ejaculatrixes stop squirting just to hear him sing. Ah, if only our actual Prez could simply speak half as well as this one sings!

Jesse Merlin sings “I Am The Greatest President” from Roger Neills and Julien Nitzbergs “The Beastly Bombing” in front of the show bed on The Dr. Susan Block Shows Holiday “Orgasm Operetta”

Everyone has talents. Some sing, some squirt, some swallow. Cara Lott, another Speakeasy newcomer, demonstrates her fellating skills by sucking almost my entire 12-inch dildo down her delicate gullet. Then she frolicks around the Speakeasy like an XXXmas Elf wearing nothing but a pink Santa hat, five-inch heels and a nine-inch strap-on dildo. Meanwhile, the record-breaking squirt-o-rama continues…Into the eye of the female hurricane steps Brendon Burton aka BFree — rapping “Its Time to Get It On” while, well, getting it on with all the squirting squealing ladies in the show bed. Go BFree! It’s Groupie Time! This brings out the Vietnamese delegation: sexy sweet Nancy, beautiful vivacious Vivian and hot-hot-hot Anita Wong, all ready to get it on with BFree and the rest of us lucky Americans. DJ PhilDog picks up the beat, and it isn’t long before operetta composers are dancing with strippers, politicians are grooving with porn stars, and it is indeed “time to get it on” in the bar, on the beds, on the stage, everywhere. One dude with vibrating hands feels up all the women. As soon as I announce the After-Party, I find myself on the receiving end of much marvelous cunnilingus from many luscious lips – Nancy, Cara, Michelle…Then the Secretary of Defense lifts me up in his strong cowboy arms, throws me on the bed and proceeds to eat through my defenses with his tongue. Somehow I can’t imagine Donald Rumsfeld or Robert Gates doing that. Next thing I know, my security systems have been breeched, the Secretary is fingering my G-spot and licking my labia, and I’m coming all over his face. Swept up in the politics of the moment, I forget whether I’m at the Speakeasy or in the Pentagon. This Secretary of Defense gives me hope for the future! Maybe now we can “Make Love Not War” with the laying down of arms and the laying on of hands. Maybe now we can go from raging around the world like baboons to practicing the Bonobo Way. What a fabulous transformation of politics through pleasure! But then again, not really. I snap out of my wet dream and remember that this is just a roleplay, and the real Secretary of Defense, even the new one, is more of an asshole than a cunning linguist.

Then I meet Dessarae Bradford, author of “My S/M Romp with Alec Baldwin,” about her alleged one-night stand with actor Alec Baldwin, and “Colin Farrell: A Dark Twisted Puppy: My Side of the Story,” about her alleged phone sex relationship with actor Colin Farrell. Maybe she’s nuts, but she tells most of the story naked — showing off her gorgeous slim smooth mocha crème colored body, perfect butt, great legs, pert breasts and rather large nipples — so I listen as she tells me how she seduced Alec Baldwin into following her into her apartment, then screwed him, penetrated him anally with a vibrator, and made him eat a Hershey’s chocolate bar covered with his own semen (his idea). The Colin Farrell Dark Twisted Puppy story is a little more complicated, especially since she’d never met him in person, and he currently has a restraining order against her. It’s all phone sex, which can, of course, be a very hot playground for dark twisted puppies to play in. Do we believe Dessarae? We’re not sure, but it sure is fun to watch her voguing around, stark naked, obviously having the time of her life, telling her star-fucked tales.

Other notable guests include Juliano of Juliano’s Raw Foods, 48 Laws of Power and Art of Seduction author Robert Greene, Lynn LeMay, looking très elegante in her black evening gown, celebrating her birthday at the Speakeasy, the inimitable Ms. Genevieve, the lovely voluptuous Martha Garcia, pretty angel-winged Cyn Moore, and Tracy showing off her enormous boobs (each of which is bigger than most people’s heads), as well as the usual crowd of incognito stars and masked Nobel prize winners whose careers would be ruined if they were discovered at the Speakeasy. And, of course, Canaan Brumley filming Wallace and Sara and the rest of us for his Speakeasy documentary-ish film. In between squirting, singing, filmmaking, dancing, romancing, prancing around the Christmas tree and lighting the Hannukah candles (with an Alladin’s lamp menorah!) on the bar, everybody munches on holiday yummies by Gene (who also created my Pimpin’ Santa hat), with the XXXmas Green Fairy, Absente Absinthe, as the holiday beverage of choice. I take Annie Body and John Guy on a wild ride in the rickshaw. Well, we don’t actually go anywhere but the bar, but it is a wild ride.

Me and Annie Body on the Rickshaw. Ho, ho, ho! We need some reindeer…

In the midst of all this merry XXXmas mayhem, we somehow manage to take a few calls, though they come in between the songs and during the orgy, and beween the operetta and the orgasms, it’s kind of hard to hear the callers. Amanda calls in to ask how she can be satisfied when her boyfriend comes only 10 minutes after he’s penetrated her. I tell her 10 minutes is a pretty long time for intercourse (the average is three), but if she wants to be sure to come with him inside her, here’s what she should do: Ask her boyfriend to go down on her (or use a vibrator) until she’s almost ready to come, then have him slide his penis inside, and she’ll probably come all over his cock within a few strokes, possibly even squirting, which will almost certainly trigger his orgasm, which will feel just marvelous for both of them.

Speaking of near simultaneous orgasm, Kent calls in to tell us about Global Orgasm, a project put together by Baring Witness, the folks who spelled out PEACE on the beach with their naked bodies. The idea is that this Friday night, everyone (that’s you and me) should concentrate any thoughts during and after orgasm on peace. The goal is to add so much concentrated positive input into the energy field of the Earth that it will reduce the current high levels of aggression and violence throughout the world. I believe I actually do this when I climax into the mouth of the Secretary of Defense. I focus on world peace before, during and after orgasm. Well, who knows? With a pinch of science (something about human consciousness affecting the “Quantum Field” like a subatomic particle changes the state of the particle) and a lot of wishful thinking, maybe my orgasm will work for peace, even if it’s just an actor playing the Secretary of Defense. Maybe all of our orgasms together can end the war(s) and begin a new era of bonobo consciousness. We just need to have more orgasms and focus more on peace! You and me and the military and the insurgents. After all, you can’t very well fight a war while you’re having an orgasm.

So, Brothers & Sisters, Lovers & Sinners: Happy Horny Hannukkah! Merry XXXmas! Bon Voyage on your Hajj! Happy Kinky Kwanzaa! Happy Winter Solstice! Happy Bodhi Day! Happy Pancha Ganapati! (those are the Buddhist and Hindu winter holidays) Happy Saturnalia! Happy Dionysia! Squirt in the New Year! And Happy Eros Day (that’s coming soon and that’s the sexiest holiday of the year)! Happy, happy, ho, ho, ho, Pimps and Ho’s. We Pimpin’ for Peace through Pleasure, Babee…

Tai erupts below Michelles Buddha-tattooed arm

And what does pleasure mean? Pleasure means orgasms, pleasure means sex, pleasure means food, pleasure means shelter and health care and education and music and art and clean air and operetta and freedom from oppression, freedom from bombs. Drop Bras, Not Bombs! That’s the goal. And the goal is the journey. Don’t forget to have at least one orgasm this Friday night, and fantasize about peace exploding all over the world.

Happy Holidays ~ Peace on Earth ~ Orgasms and Operetta for All.