It’s another flavorful night of sex education, demonstration and celebration in Bonoboville, the sex ed subject being the fine art and succulent science of oral pleasure. With gentle breezes blowing the radiant streams of DrSuzy.tv producer Tasia Sutor’s scrumptious set, we learn to “blow each other away” with all kinds of essential and exotic techniques—from sucking to licking, deep-throating to muff-diving—courtesy of our feature guest Jaiya’s excellent new book of that name. As for “demonstration,” our fabulous fellatrixes and cunning linguists not only demonstrate many of these oral skills for your edification and delight; we also demonstrate our determination to stop rape and violence against women—and everyone else—by rising up to dance in Eve Ensler’s galvanizing One Billion Rising campaign (we’ll be doing it again next Satuday 2/16/13—join us for Lupercalia Rising!). And we celebrate Chinese New Year with my akeeta corn snake (also named Eve) who seems thrilled to be entering the Year of the Snake…though you never know with snakes.

It’s another flavorful night of sex education, demonstration and celebration in Bonoboville, the sex ed subject being the fine art and succulent science of oral pleasure. With gentle breezes blowing the radiant streams of DrSuzy.tv producer Tasia Sutor’s scrumptious set, we learn to “blow each other away” with all kinds of essential and exotic techniques—from sucking to licking, deep-throating to muff-diving—courtesy of our feature guest Jaiya’s excellent new book of that name. As for “demonstration,” our fabulous fellatrixes and cunning linguists not only demonstrate many of these oral skills for your edification and delight; we also demonstrate our determination to stop rape and violence against women—and everyone else—by rising up to dance in Eve Ensler’s galvanizing One Billion Rising campaign (we’ll be doing it again next Satuday 2/16/13—join us for Lupercalia Rising!). And we celebrate Chinese New Year with my akeeta corn snake (also named Eve) who seems thrilled to be entering the Year of the Snake…though you never know with snakes.

Air Date: 06/09/2012 It’s another unforgettable orgy in the Womb Room. And what is the cause for celebration this time? To quote the sagacious inscription on the goblet I received as a gift: “It’s My Fucking Birthday!” And what a bon anniversaire bacchanal of epic proportions it is, commencing with me popping out of my own cake (concocted by RadioSUZY1 producer and passionate cake fetishist Tasia Sutor, assisted by artist Yossie Vardan), surrounded by some of the world’s hottest sexpots, sexperts and sex maniacs in full-on, ecstatic celebration mode. Then things really go off! And by “things” I mean most of my guests’ clothing as we pile up more beauties in the bed for Sybian rides, spanking, pole-dancing, Adult Play Parlor sex toys for all, Kinky Eddie sex toys for me, sword swallowing (both the sideshow and fellatio variety—at the same time!), as couples and clusters sex it up until the break of dawn on various beds and couches of the Speakeasy, in celebration of the very first “sex act” of my long and rather sexual life. Yes indeed, brothers and sisters, we are all born from sex. With all due respect to the Virgin Mother, real mothers are not virgins. Neither are fathers. Sex is what brings us into the world, and sex is what motivates us to stick around for a while. Praise be to the power and glory of sex! It keeps you young. And you keep me young. At least you—my readers, listeners, lovers, viewers, friends, clients, tweeps, my awesome, ever-changing socialist/capitalist BonoboVille community—keep me from ever growing up. The proof is in this party. Thank you all for helping to make my crazy marvelous life possible.

Date: 12/31/2011 What better way to bring in the New Year than with a squirting orgasm, a hot strippin’ ass kickin’ superheroine, a newlywed BJ, kisses all around, spanks for joy, a reverse cowgirl ride into the future, sparklers, champagne and confetti shooting like multi-colored sperm throughout the Womb Room. Whether our notions of time are fact or over-scheduled human fiction, we resolve to occupy our future with sexual literacy, erotic exploration and the Bonobo Way of peace through pleasure. So, to honor the transition from ’11 to ’12, we gather together our brothers and sisters, lovers and sinners for a passionate farewell to the past and a very ecstatic “hello there!” to what’s to come…and come again.

Air Date: 06/09/2012 It’s another unforgettable orgy in the Womb Room. And what is the cause for celebration this time? To quote the sagacious inscription on the goblet I received as a gift: “It’s My Fucking Birthday!” And what a bon anniversaire bacchanal of epic proportions it is, commencing with me popping out of my own cake (concocted by RadioSUZY1 producer and passionate cake fetishist Tasia Sutor, assisted by artist Yossie Vardan), surrounded by some of the world’s hottest sexpots, sexperts and sex maniacs in full-on, ecstatic celebration mode. Then things really go off! And by “things” I mean most of my guests’ clothing as we pile up more beauties in the bed for Sybian rides, spanking, pole-dancing, Adult Play Parlor sex toys for all, Kinky Eddie sex toys for me, sword swallowing (both the sideshow and fellatio variety—at the same time!), as couples and clusters sex it up until the break of dawn on various beds and couches of the Speakeasy, in celebration of the very first “sex act” of my long and rather sexual life. Yes indeed, brothers and sisters, we are all born from sex. With all due respect to the Virgin Mother, real mothers are not virgins. Neither are fathers. Sex is what brings us into the world, and sex is what motivates us to stick around for a while. Praise be to the power and glory of sex! It keeps you young. And you keep me young. At least you—my readers, listeners, lovers, viewers, friends, clients, tweeps, my awesome, ever-changing socialist/capitalist BonoboVille community—keep me from ever growing up. The proof is in this party. Thank you all for helping to make my crazy marvelous life possible.

Air Date: 11/05/2011 This show is dedicated to committed couples who keep their bedroom doors wide open. My featured guests are three sexy young power couples: one married five years, one about to get married in two weeks and another living and working together “24/7” for the past year. All three have open relationships, and one even brings a gorgeous American Apparel model/porn star who is their current erotic “distraction.” It’s a chilly autumn night, but my Womb Room heats up fast when one guest gets so hot she literally breathes fire, tonguing the flames like a lover. Several other, less dangerous types of oral erotica ensue, climaxing with a hot husband and husband-to-be giving heroic cunnilingus and analingus to their wife and fiancée, respectively, side by side, as the rest of us cheer them on in this make-shift “Pussy-Eating Boot Camp,” demonstrating two keys to any hot sexy marriage: giving fantastic head and a keeping a good sense of Commedia Erotica.

Laissez les bons temps rouler!…and roll they certainly do as Grand Marshall Dr. Susan Block presents Tigerblood Mardi Gras, celebrating the wild party animal in all of us…sauntering across her stage with te tigress’ sultry elegance in regal purple hat, a matching tiger print sarong and purple panties personally signed on the butt crack by Heidi Fleiss. Tossing beads to the topless, she transforms the Institute’s Womb Room into a French Quarter carnival with a winning cast of Commedia Erotica characters, porn stars and erotica aesthetes, climaxing with a wild girl-girl-girl-girl pile-up in the show bed.

Sexy professors and clever porn stars, eloquent poets and erotic rock stars, friends, lovers, veteran guests and Speakeasy virgins gather together in the Womb Room to celebrate the day I made my grand exit from my mama’s womb room. With all due respect to the Virgin Mother, no real mother is a virgin. No father either. We are all Children of Sex with a capital X. Amen & Awomen. Birthdays make me feel silly. People congratulate you for nothing but being alive. Though at my age, I suppose that’s an accomplishment. And I can’t deny it felt great to ride the airwaves with birthday erotica, multiple spankings, Pocket Rocket orgasms, a male-on-female lapdance and, of course, spanks on the house—counted out loud with me by my spank-happy in-studio audience–with post-spanking butt treatment from my decadent, very politically incorrect, new chinchilla mitt (a bday gift from a sex therapy client with a fur fetish) to ease the burn of those hot cheeks, surfing right into topless birthday candle blowing (with a fabulous, elaborate, gigantic-boobed birthday cake, a gift from Exotic Cakes), followed by more sexy spankings, a live post-show Fogelfoot concert, dancing and romancing with Mister9 spinning all birthday night long.

Jetstreaming into June with a cast of high-fliers, veteran sex performers, hot fledglings, hip producers, feminist hemp activists, soaring superheroes, flying pink piglets and bouncing blonde bonobos, this fun and boobalicious episode of The Dr. Susan Block Show climaxes with an epic chain spanking of flying palms and fingers, dedicated to spanking out the American Perma-Wars and spreading peace through pleasure around the world.

Sexy professors and clever porn stars, eloquent poets and erotic rock stars, friends, lovers, veteran guests and Speakeasy virgins gather together in the Womb Room to celebrate the day I made my grand exit from my mama’s womb room. With all due respect to the Virgin Mother, no real mother is a virgin. No father either. We are all Children of Sex with a capital X. Amen & Awomen. Birthdays make me feel silly. People congratulate you for nothing but being alive. Though at my age, I suppose that’s an accomplishment. And I can’t deny it felt great to ride the airwaves with birthday erotica, multiple spankings, Pocket Rocket orgasms, a male-on-female lapdance and, of course, spanks on the house—counted out loud with me by my spank-happy in-studio audience–with post-spanking butt treatment from my decadent, very politically incorrect, new chinchilla mitt (a bday gift from a sex therapy client with a fur fetish) to ease the burn of those hot cheeks, surfing right into topless birthday candle blowing (with a fabulous, elaborate, gigantic-boobed birthday cake, a gift from Exotic Cakes), followed by more sexy spankings, a live post-show Fogelfoot concert, dancing and romancing with Mister9 spinning all birthday night long.

The ritual is the match, the orgy the flame.  Within just a couple hours of opening up the Institute’s brand new Womb Room, our 12th annual Eros Day had ignited into a stellar display of sensual, naked and winged bodies and souls soaring, flailing and thrusting into one another on and around the Olympic-sized bed surrounded by burning cock candles, buzzing pocket rockets, pulsing bongo beats, majestic erotic art and anatomically correct blow-up angels flying through the rafters above. It was a Commedia Erotica Heaven on Earth worthy of a Botticelli or Bronzino, or at least a Fellini movie, and one of our best Eros Day orgies ever, with some very tasty hors d’oeuvres.