Length 01:23:39 Date: Feb. 15th, 2020

by Dr. Susan Block.

Brothers and Sisters, pagans and Pan paniscus–bonobo sapiens, whippers and snappers, heart-shaped butts and ancient history nuts…

Lupercalia 2020: Drumpf under Gag Order with a Penis Balloon, Ana Quintana, Juici May, Sunshine McWane, Dr. Suzy, Rhiannon Aarons (the Luper), Charlie Zyzzyx. Photo: Jux Lii

Friends, Romans, Countrywomen, lend me your ears…
I come to bury Valentine’s Day… Not to praise it…

Sorry to mangle Shakespeare’s words, but here’s the deal: Valentine’s Day is fake news concocted by the early Catholic Church, enhanced by Hallmark, sweetened by See’s, polished by DaBeers and abetted by Amazon.

The Sexless Story of Saint Valentine

All this pricey, saccharin fakery is based upon a sexless fairy tale starring Saint Valentine, a celibate Christian priest arrested for unlawfully marrying young couples in “evil” pagan Rome of the 4th century A.D.

While imprisoned, so the story goes, Valentine heals his jailer’s blind daughter, and they fall in love. It’s a very pure, godly, sex-free love, the kind a virgin blind girl would have for a priest sworn to celibacy and bound for execution. Then, before he’s beheaded (on February 14^th, of course), the priest leaves the girl a farewell note—which she can now see, thanks to his miraculous ophthalmological skills—and he signs it, “Your Valentine.”

Awwwww….!

What a touching story of chaste ideals befitting the High Holiday of Hopelessly Romantic Love, St. Valentine’s Day.

But alas and alack (a big lack), the ideal is the enemy of the real, as Capt’n Max says.

In reality, there were several Christian martyrs named “Valentine,” and no evidence that any of them healed his jailer’s daughter or composed a farewell card.

However, the ideal is more marketable than the real—at least according to Hallmark, DeBeers, See’s, Bezos and Bloomberg—even though it could give you a toothache, cost you three paychecks, or drive you crazy just trying to order an Uber Eats romantic dinner… like we did V-Day night when our account kept hanging, and after an hour of cyber-frustration, we had to open a new account.

I’m all for romance, and I’ve got the over 27-year-old marriage certificate to prove it. I love the red roses, luscious lobster, soft kisses and multiple orgasms my Valentine gave me on Valentine’s Day.

I’m so grateful for our love, as the many lonely, distraught or just plain unsatisfying V-Days before we met that I spent with nobody at all or, even worse, with the *wrong* somebody, are still fresh in my mind.

Me & My Valentine (who looks kind of like Jodie Foster in that “Silence of the Lambs” poster with the moth on her mouth). Photo: Selfie

Even before I learned the history, Valentine’s Day always seemed contrived to me, like the artificially flavored candy-coating on a natural succulent strawberry. The real juicy fruit is in there somewhere, but the sickly sweet shell disguises, sanitizes and commercializes it beyond recognition.

Lusty Lupercalia and the Spirit of Pan

But deep inside the phony, saintly Valentine shell is the original, primal holiday of the heart: the primordial Lupercalia, a heart-felt feast for all the senses, including your sense of history with nothing saintly or celibate about it.

Channeling the Spirit of Pan, Great Goat God of the Wild and Lord of Lupercalia. Photo: Carl Russell

I open the show live from the little Love Church of The Bonobo Way in Bonoboville, channeling the Spirit of Pan, the great horned, horny Greco-Roman goat god of the wild.

As Pan, I snap My Februa with our starting lineup of Commedia Erotica Players. Photo: Carl Russell

The Romans called Pan “Faunus,” connecting him with the “fauna,” aka the nonhuman animals, both wild and domesticated, as he himself was part goat.

For Lupercalia, Pan manifests as “Lupercus,” the shepherd/goatherd god.

Pan teaches a wood nymph to play on his pipes.

But I prefer to call him Pan because that’s the name for the lusty, mischievous, ecosexual God of the Wild that I learned about when I devoured Greek myths as a child, looking for more lusty, earth-positive stories than my Judeo-Christian Bible (which I read cover-to-cover) provided.

I thought Pan was particularly cool because Pan likes to play, and so did I.

The “God” of the Hebrews, Christians and Muslims is a “wrathful” god, occasionally a “loving” god, but never a playful god… well, except when He shows Moses His divine heart-shaped ass. That’s actually a rather Lupercalian moment, and would have been more so if Moses would have swung a leather strap across the sky like he was flogging it, but alas, none of the Biblical translations say that he did.

The Goat God & a Goat

Much later, I learned that some of Pan’s “play” involved bestiality, which I found pretty gross, personally having no desire to have sex with any of my pet cats or parakeets, my neighbors’ dogs or even Puff the Magic Dragon. However, I was fascinated by Greco-Roman mythology, filled with stories of humans mating with gods who take the form of bulls, horses, swans and other non-human animals. And then there were all those lonely real-life goatherds and shepherds making Valentines out of their goats and sheep. We now deplore this “animal abuse,” as well we should, but the abuse of nonhuman animals in our modern agricultural system is far worse, not to mention immensely destructive to our ecosystem, and one of the chief drivers of calamitous climate change.

Valentine’s Day now World Bonobo Day

Pan is also the patron “saint” of the “Make Love Not War” bonobos whose Latin classification is Pan Paniscus.

Happy World Bonobo Day! Help save the bonobos and give The Bonobo Way. Photo: Jux Lii

And now, thanks to the efforts of the Bonobo Project, Valentine’s Day is World Bonobo Day!

Whether you’re married, single, in a couple, a throuple, a commune or a convent, you can honor LOVE with the world’s greatest lovers who are as lusty, mischievous and ecosexual as their patron Pan.

In a sense, World Bonobo Day brings Valentine’s Day little closer to the original Lupercalia.

If any nonhuman animals embody the spirit of Lupercalian lust, it’s the bonobos who swing through the trees, as well as with each other… and love to play, spank, lick and tickled, engaging in communal ecstasy on practically a daily basis.

Our closest genetic cousins, bonobos are also the “peace apes.” Never seen killing each other in the wild or captivity, bonobos show us that peace, through sharing the pleasures of food, sex and other good things, is possible for apes like us.

Indeed, The Bonobo Way  of female empowerment, male well-being, loving strangers, peace through pleasure is the ultimate antidote to the fear and hatred that drives us apart.

Church turns Pan into Satan

Though Jesus in the Gospels is very bonoboësque, preaching peace and love for all, freedom for women and slaves, and compassion for the poor, the early Church (seemingly more influenced by Paul and Augustine than Jesus) was not.

The Church banned the people’s worship of Pan, Faunus and Lupercus. and, over time, they turned playful Pan into the Devil. The Demonization of Pan was quite intense. Sure, Pan was no Catholic priest (though some of those Catholic priests were and are much worse than Pan).  He could be beastly and probably would have had the #MeToo movement after him, but to control people and our “nature,” the Church turned the half-man/half-goat god into the lowest of the low, the worst of the worst.

The rest is Satanic history.

22-year-old me as Arlecchino holding a cross in a New England Commedia performance of “Plastic Cash” in Westport, Conn.

But here in Bonoboville, I reincarnate the God of the Wild as a sort of “Lady Bonobo Pan,” an extension of the Arlecchino and Columbina stock Commedia dell’Arte characters I used to play, post-Yale, with an improvisational acting troupe called New England Commedia.

Nowadays I call our performers, “The Commedia Erotica Bonoboville Players,” who improvise their roles as I tell the story of Lupercalia.

It’s a cross between a school play and a burlesque, topped off with a religious sexual experience: the female ejaculation of pure amrita. Holy Water you won’t find in any Church, except the Church of the Bonobo Way.

If you use your erotic imagination—if the social media-demons haven’t already vaporized your erotic imagination—our cave-like Womb Room is transformed into the womb-like Cave of the Lupercal.

So gather ‘round if you’re feeling frisky and into history…

Gather ’round and I’ll tell you the tale of the Lupercal… Photo Carl Russell

And I’ll tell you a story.

Stars of the Lupercal

The title character and star of the Lupercalia story is the “Luper.”

Photos 1, 3, 4, 5: Jux Lii.  Photo 2: Selfie.

If you don’t know a “luper” from a “leper,” well, Luper is Latin for “she-wolf.”

Our Luper is played for the third time in fine “furry” fashion by multiple SUZY award winner for “Most Well-Rounded Kinkster,” sapiosexual MFA, filmmaker and author and naturally busty sexpot, Rhiannon Aarons.

The other two main characters of our Lupercalia Story are twin brothers, Romulus and Remus, the sons of Mars, the God of War, and Queen Rhea Silvia, daughter of King Numitor of Alba Longa.

Photo 1: Selfie. Photo 2: Jux Lii.  Photos 3 & 5: Carl Russell.  Photo 4: Eric Glowski

You’d think twins of such pedigree would be extremely lucky—and they are—but not at first. Shortly after Romulus and Remus are born, their evil great uncle Amulius tosses them into the Tiber River.

Evil old Great Uncle Amulius is reprised every year in a short but heartfelt performance by Capt’n Max, who was born in Rome and really relishes tossing those kids (played in their infancy by balled up pieces of paper) into the Tiber, cursing them in Italian as they float downstream to almost certain death. Then he steals the kingdom of Alba Longa from his daughter-in-law and her dad.

What a dastardly old dude, though not as bad as Drumpf who locks more and more children in cages or sends them “back” to brutal countries (often torn apart by American interference), essentially condemning them to death.

Then it’s back to our Commedia Erotica reenactment of the Lupercalian origin tale, where the Tiber River is played by Ana and Sunshine waving a long, streaming piece of blue material in the air as Max/Amulius tosses the paper into the “waves.”

Capt’n Max, in his signature role as mean old Great Uncle Amullius, tosses the twin infants, Romulus and Remus, into the Tiber River. Photo: Jux Lii

It wouldn’t be much fun to follow the adventures of two balled-up hunks of paper (unless it was drawn by a really good cartoonist), so we quickly turn our paper twins into human form.

And oh wow, what lovely human forms they take, the Brothers Romulus and Remus being played by beautiful erotic entertainers Juici May and Charlie Zyzzyx,

Charlie Zyzzyx as Remus in the Bonoboville Forest. Photo: Carl Russell

After tossing and turning in the Tiber a bit, Romulus and Remus are miraculously rescued from drowning by the she-wolf.

It really is kind of miraculous, the way it unfolds in our Commedia play. Charlie Zyzzyx makes a stunning Remus, and since Juici May hasn’t shown up and the play is underway, I quick-cast Sunshine as Romulus. In full goat makeup, Sunshine is understandably not too thrilled about having to play the founder of Rome looking like a goat or a cleft palate kid, but she’s a trooper… and a trouper.

Juici May arrives just in time to play the part of Romulus. Photo: Jux Lii

Then, like a Lupercalian miracle, in skips Juici May, ready to play, a half-hour late but looking great.

So we improvise, like good Commedia troupers, without missing too many beats.

I haven’t seen the Divine Miss May in over a year, and I want to hug her and ask her how she is, but we’re in the middle of the beginning of the Lupercalia story, so without much fanfare I welcome Juici May, 2018 SUZY award winner for “Most Bonobo” and “Best Female Ejaculation,” to our new digs. Then before she has a chance to look around or even catch her breath, I instruct her to take on her role as Romulus, hero of Lupercalia.

The indefatigable Juici May is, as always, more than up for the challenge.

Romulus (Juici May) and Remus (Charlie Zyzzyx) drowning in the Tiber. Photo: Jux Lii

Sunshine happily goes back to playing half the Tiber, billowing the waves over the abandoned twins.

Charlie, though a virgin to DrSuzy.Tv, calmly assumes her position, rolling on the floor, her statuesque all-natural, whimsically tattooed body topped off by sea green hair, looking like a water nymph as the waves roll over her and her twin brother (I know, the pronouns get confusing when you’ve got two ladies playing twin brothers).

Of course, Romulus/Juici May and Remus/Charlie are not identical twins, though each looks spectacular in her own way, even while pretending to drown.

A Sex Worker Saves the Day

Just before they are drowned, the Luper (she-wolf) crosses the river and saves the twin boys who are really (in our productions) girls.

Rhiannon Aaron reprises her tour de force performance as the Luper of Lupercalia, the Great Wolf MILF, who’s also a sex worker (Lupa). Photo: Jux Lii

Having played this critical role twice before, Rhiannon knows just when to don her eerie copper-colored Wolf mask and pull down her top below her fur collar, revealing her enormous tits or, since she’s a wolf… teats.

Then, so the story goes, she takes our young heroes to the cave they called the Lupercal and suckles them both.

Photos 1, 5-8: Jux Lii.  Photos 2-4: Eric Glowski

I’m not sure what this says about Romans and their relationships with nonhuman animals, but I bet some of those Tuscan shepherds got their calcium straight from the teat.

Presumably, whatever wolf cubs our Luper might have in the cave are not howling mad that Mama has adopted a couple of human babies, suckling them until they are big and strong.

The Great Wolf Whore suckles our heroes, giving them health, strength and a good time. Photo: Jux Lii

It’s actually not so far-fetched; some children really have been raised by wolves, and maybe they’re better off than those raised by negligent or abusive human parents.

Interestingly, the word “lupa” is Latin slang for “prostitute.” This explains a lot, especially all the suckling.

Wolves and Sex Workers are very nurturing. Photo: Jux Lii

So the savior of Lupercalia, the Luper/Wolf who saves our heroes from death and nurtures them into a healthy life, is also a Lupa/Sex Worker.

Our Romulus and Remus—more into oral passion than passionate oratory—tune into the primal spirit of the She-Wolf, the “Sacred Whore” of the original Valentine’s Day, the Great Wolf-MILF of ancient Rome.

Real wolves are great nurturing mothers. Sex workers are also often nurturing, giving their clients not just sex, but love, compassion and understanding.

Come Let Us Play… in the cave-like Womb Room sanctuary of the Little Love Church of the Bonobo Way. Amen and AWOMEN. Photo: Jux Lii

So, save the wolves, and decriminalize sex work now!

The Founding of Rome (not Reme)

Now grown up and having heard the story of their almost-murders, Romulus and Remus vow revenge on their evil Great Uncle Amulius. They return to Alba Longa to kill the mean old man and return Alba Longa to their Granddad Numitor.

Whipping Presidunce tRump Baby under gag order with a big Valentine-red balloon dick crafted by Sunshine. Photo: Jux Lii

We don’t reenact the murder, but we do whip our tRumpy doll, keeping him under gag-order with a Lupercalian red dick balloon, courtesy of our balloon-artist-in-residence, Sunshine McWane.

Leaving their home town for seven auspicious hills, Romulus and Remus decide to undertake building a whole new city that they plan to rule together.

Romulus and Remus fight over a fence. Photo: Carl Russell

But these boys are sons of Mars, not bonobos, so they quarrel about a fence which is really a wall (sound familiar?).

Suddenly, in a fit of sibling rivalry like Cain killing his brother Able in the Judeo-Christian Bible, Romulus kills his brother Remus.

Romulus kills his brother Remus, as the Wolf sadly watches (though instead of killing, we flog). Photo: Jux Lii

Fratricide is a recurring theme among the ancients, both pagans and monotheists.

Being bonoboësque, we don’t do any killing in our reenactment.

Photo 1: Eric Glowski.  Photos 2-4: Jux Lii.  Photo 5: Carl Russell.

Instead, Juici May as Romulus give’s Charlie/Remus’ heart-shaped ass a good flogging with a Lupercalian red Jux Leather flogger.

Then Charlie/Remus roles over and plays dead, like a beautiful, well-trained, green-haired German shepherd.

Now that his beloved brother Remus is dead, Romulus mourns… but not for long! After all, Rome wasn’t built in a day. Photo: Eric Glowski

According to the legend, Romulus “regrets” killing Remus (which Juici May acts out with great drama), but he doesn’t lose much sleep before founding the city of both of their dreams, naming it Rome, after himself, conveniently forgetting his beloved bro.

Otherwise, Rome would be called “Reme.”

Moreover, “romance” would be called “remance,” Augustus Caesar would be the first Reman Emperor, the Vatican would be the capital of the Reman Catholic Church, Audrey Hepburn and Gregory Peck would go on a Reman Holiday, and so on.

HERstory might be different, but HIStory is written by the killers and their scribes. Photo: Carl Russell

Alas for poor Remus, but since hunter-gather times, history has been written by the winners, the killers and survivors of humanity’s bloody spats and regrettable wars.

Frat-Cave Fun

But Remus isn’t completely gone. His spirit lives on in a college fraternity, the Luperci Fabii, as does that of Romulus in the Luperci Quintilii.

Sacrificial Goat and College Loincloth in the Frat Cave. Photo: Jux Lii

As time passes, these two “fraternities,” populated by young, nearly naked, Roman “frat boys,” meet at the Ides of February every year within that dark, womb-like cave of the Lupercal where the She-Wolf/Sex Worker (Luper/Lupa) once suckled and loved their twin great-great-grandfathers, and where her Lupine spirit still resides.

In the primeval cave, the naked young frat bros and their priestly leaders honor the great Goat God Pan by sacrificing a real goat.

Photos 1, 4, 5: Carl Russell.  Photos 2, 3, 6: Jux Lii

Our goat is played by Sunshine, a proud Capricorn, the astrological “goat” sign, reprising her SUZY-award-winning role from Lupercalia 2019.

According to the legend, they also sacrifice a dog, but that’s too gross, especially since we just lost our beloved Betsy doggie.

The Luper flogs the Sacrificial Goat.. or is this meat-tenderizing? Photo: Jux Lii

So we just focus on the goat, “sacrificing” her through flogging, not killing.

Rhiannon the Luper/Lupa does most of the flogging with a big red Jux Leather flogger.

Using a fresh blood red lipstick, I draw the sign of the heart on Charlie/Remus’ uplifted forehead. Photo: Carl Russell

Then the high priest marked the boys’ foreheads with the blood of the sacred beast.

In Bonoboville, we use red lipstick instead of goat’s blood—which would be a little messy.

I draw hearts on Juici May’s, Charlie’s and Rhiannon’s foreheads uplifted to Olympus.

Sunshine requests an X to mark her spot.

With Liberty and Februa for All. Photo: Carl Russell

Upon being marked, the Lupercalians laughed and feasted on fresh roasted goat and got very drunk on winter wine.

Then the least drunk among them cut strips from the goatskin, making loincloths.

They also cut thin leather strips into whips they called “februa,”and yes class, that’s where we get our name for the month of “February.”

Lupercalia Whip-A-Thon. Photo: Jux Lii

Our februa are made by JuxLii of Jux Leather, perennial sponsors of Lupercalia in Bonoboville.

Running of the Luperci

Thus equipped and fairly inebriated, they sprinted out of their womb-like cave, laughing and howling like wolves.

Running like virile young Cupids, they raced through the hills and villages on their way into Rome, wielding their goatskin februa, gaily whacking the hands, backs and behinds of willing women, also drunk, looking for luck, love and perhaps a baby.

It was consensual—at least, mostly consensual—and not gender-discriminating; they also whipped willing men.

They believed that such sacred Lupercalian whacks ensured fertility in barren women and virility in listless men.

It’s not be as scientific as an IVF clinic, but it sure did whip the local populace up into a frenzy for sex, often creating a Roman baby boom around harvest time.

All the Luperci whip Lady Bonobo Pan with long-stemmed red roses. Photo: Jux Lii

Whether for procreation or recreation, all that public whipping and fornication was a lot sexier than a paper Valentine.

In fact, it was a little too sexy for the early Catholic Church which squelched Lupercalian enthusiasm at the end of the 5^th century by not only making Lupercalia illegal, but by turning Pan into the Devil, branding the horny old Lupercalian goat and all communal sacred sex as “Satanic.”

Then they plunked Saint Valentine’s Day down on essentially the same date as the old Lupercalia, appropriating the vivid color of goat’s blood smeared on human skin as its signature shade: red with a touch of white for goat’s milk.

The also turned Cupid (Eros to the Greeks), generally portrayed as a sexy, virile, young man, into the innocent sexless baby Cupid that only a pedophile could find erotic.

The Heart is an Ass

It’s long been my view that another symbol of Valentine’s Day is Lupercalian in origin. That is, the classic Valentine “heart” looks nothing like the cardiac organ for which it seems to be named. It does, however, look like a set of well-whipped buns.

No wonder we call the perfect ass “heart-shaped.” Because the heart logo is shaped like the perfect ass.

The Church may have banned Lupercalia for centuries, sugar-poisoning its lusty history with the forced romance of Valentine’s Day, but we are bringing it back, from the annals of prehistoric Rome to the anals—and hot heart-shaped asses—of modern Bonoboville.

“Floggers Not Flowers!” is the battle cry of the unValentine Lupercalian.

Though we enjoy flogging with flowers, especially long-stemmed Valentine roses.

Spank dat Ass with a Red Red Rose. Photo: Abe Bonobo

Why not?

It’s better to have your buns beaten (consensually) on Lupercalia than your heart broken (badly) on Valentine’s Day.

Feel the Bern!! #GoBonobos for Bernie, the “Most Bonobo Presidential Candidate.”

Better loving through socialism.

Side note: Check out my Anti-Valentine to Rush Limbaugh, King of Creeps and Godfather of Modern American Bigotry. Also in Counterpunch.

Though I love love, I’ll take communal lust and pleasure over commercialized love and pressure anytime.

Actually, I usually like to celebrate both.

Assume the position for Lupercalian ecstasy. Photo: Abe Bonobo

Assume the position for a Lupercalian whipping (or a nice Valentine boink)!

It’s Holy Water! A Squirting Lupercalian Climax

In ancient Rome, all that whipping led to a lot of boinking.

Juicy May prepares to mount the Motorbunny. Photo: Jux Lii

Here in Bonoboville, it leads to Juici May mounting the Motorbunny for a big squirting orgasm.

I hand the controls to Rhiannon, who in fine Luper/Lupa fashion, nurtures those good vibrations.

Then Sunshine, Charlie and I take turns whipping and smacking Juici’s fine behind and pinching her hard hot nipples.

Juici Little Devil on the Machine. Photo: Eric Glowski

After just a minute or two, she squirts like a geyser, forming a perfect arc that none of the cameras really capture—though some catch the squirt just emerging from her urethra—but all of us there in the Womb Room Cave of the Lupercal witness the fleeting miracle with our own eyes.

Juici May’s Arc de Triomphe cascades triumphantly across the floor, landing right on Jux Lii’s kilt, making it a “squirt skirt.”

Photos 1-3: Jux Lii.  Photos 4-5: Carl Russell

Wow!

Another Juici May marvel of erotic expression.

Though it spurts forth from Juici May, it’s like all of us are squirting in a great orgiastic, ecstatic, Galentine, Lupercalian, bonoboesque, communal orgasm.

Photos 1-4: Jux Lii.  Photo 5: Selfie

Shock & Awe… with no casualties.

It’s Holy Water, Brothers and Sisters, Lovers and Sinners.

Video Stills: Gideon Grayson

Certainly, this liquid is more sacred than the “blessed” H20 in those little white plastic bottles labeled “Holy Water” in fake gold.

A substantial splash lands on the floor in front of us, and I invite the faithful to come forth and lick it up off the tiles, if they so desire.

Charlie eats the chocolate off the floor. Photo: Carl Russell

Despite many straining to get a closer look, and perhaps a whiff (thought Juici May’s female ejaculate has very little, if any, aroma), no one takes me up on my offer to lick it up off the floor.

Later, Charlie confesses that she would have licked it up, if I had “forced” her to do so.  Alas, though some might call me “pushy,” I never “force” anyone to do anything.  Lady Pan that I am, I’m adamant about getting enthusiastic consent, especially in the #MeToo era.

Charlie eats a chocolate out of my hand which was soaked in Juici May’s squirt. Photo: Jux Lii

By the time, she’s told me this, the clean-up crew has mopped up the Holy Water; we also don’t want to be the recipients of a slip-and-fall lawsuit.

Now knowing Charlie likes the “force me” dynamic, I pretend-force her to eat a Valentine chocolate off the squirt-mopped floor.

She follows my command with more enthusiastic consent than a hungry puppy, and I hand-feed her another as she licks my palm.

It being Lupercalia, we show off a few pages of the SPANK ‘n’ Art edition of Dr. Susan Block’s SPEAKEASY JOURNAL, featuring Lupercalia scenes with Rhiannon as the Luper as well as a member of Dominatrixes against Donald Trump (D.A.D.), a floggerific Spanksgiving, the recipient of a baguette spanking on Bastille Day and much more.  There’s also a “double-truck” Jux Lii photo of me spanking Juici May into a squirting orgasm on Spanksgiving 2018.

Speaking of spanking, I’m pleased to announce I’ve been invited by DomCon Headmistress Cyan to be a Mistress of Ceremonies for DomCon 2020.

Spank dat Heat-Shaped Ass! Photo: Jux Lii

Don’t miss it!

Winding Up Another Lusty Lupercalia

We do a little more whipping, whacking, kissing and consenting.

Lupercalian Feast! Ana’s chicken and rice instead of goat meat and vodka and champagne instead of wine. Photo: Selfie

And before we can say “go bonobos,” it’s time to close another great show.

The after-party overflows with love, play, politics, gossip, flirtation and seemingly endless conversation.

Juici Kiss. Photo: Selfie

What a great group!

We chat, eat, drink, kiss and canoodle into the wee hours.

Photos: Selfies

Finally, with the last guests still lingering over drinks and chocolate, My Valentine and I slip away for one last V-Day roll in the hay, running with the Luperci into Olympian heavenly dreams.

Happy Lupercalia 2020 from Bonoboville!

Now assume the position for a good Lupercalian whipping… and for making love.

We love you.

My Valentine & I get ready to Run with the Luperci up to Orgasmic Olympus. Photo: Selfie

© Feb. 15, 2020 Susan Block, Ph.D., a.k.a. “Dr. Suzy,” is a world renowned LA sex therapist, author of The Bonobo Way: The Evolution of Peace through Pleasure and horny housewife, occasionally seen on HBO and other channels. For speaking engagements, call 213-291-9497.