Full Contact Monogamy

Number One? ..on Page One?

2010-11-06T17:30:00.000-07:00

Today, was cleaning up spammy comments on several blogs. I popped here and decided this blog was getting an awful lot of hits for a more or less defunct blog.

Defunct. Lacking in funk? Having had all funk removed? Interesting term.

Describes a lot of things.

So, I backtracked a bit. Seems a lot of hits are coming from search engines. With modern heuristics, those filler blogs with a few words cut and pasted from somewhere in effort to sell you something don't fool the folks in Mountain View California or any of the other also-ran cyber bloodhounds.

This blog is full of actual content, words strung together not by 1000 monkeys on 1000 typewriters for 1000 years, but by a very real couple writing very real posts about very real experiences as they together, in love attempted to navigate very treacherous waters.

In hindsight could I in good conscience recommend a similar path to another couple of our general background? No.

Do I have regrets about the blog? Some, but most of my regrets center on not taking advantage of the things we learned about each other along the way to continue building our relationship. It was too easy for me to sit back and pout when our strong sexy relationship hit a plateau and insist that it should continue at its peek without continuing to put effort into it. Personally I had this level of denial that if she wasn't feeling that way now, surely should would in a week or a month or a year.

Anyway, back to the high ranking search terms. I've always been fascinated by that and a little proud when a term lands on the first page of Google for a particular search. I think the highest I noticed was #3 on the first page for something or another.

Sometimes I am pleased, amused or validated that a term is buried in the rankings. For example, "she spanked my bottom hard" lands us on page 63 of Google hits for that term. Someone REALLY wanted to read about that to wade through 63 pages to get here. Sorry, but though I think maybe once or twice (like a lot of things) we tried that, but neither her hand nor my butt got off on that. I remember such times as just appreciating her initiating kink more than the act, you see.

A really detailed query: "why is it that when I masterbate(sic)rubbing on my clit too fast I eventually get to a point where it's too much and I can't take it" landed one of The Artist's posts at the top spot. Dunno if the typo on the person positing the question ironically misspelling the very activity that so enamored her helped bumped it.

Another misspelling brought a question that brings people to this blog often: "how to talk my wife into fillatio (sic)" Not that it is sick, I mean that's how they spelled it. I've covered this before, I didn't talk her into it, it is just something she enjoys. I have come to think of her as an empath (need trekker reference here) she is (sincerely) what her partner needs her to be. Not that she loses herself, she is still her, but with a facet exposed that sparkles for that person.

This brings me to the ironic term. We are not only on page one but the number one blog for the search term "Monogamy Blog"

Wow.... Pause....... Heart-wrenching...Bitter-sweet.

Flood of wistful feelings.

I am only able to be at this blog and possible read any of it because I/she/we are at a point of formally resolving our differences. We reached concurrence just a couple of days ago on number one what is best for the kids, number two what affords her the brightest possible future, and what I can live with, and frankly nudges me out of inertia and back to life and in a direction I probably will need to go personally, professionally and so on. Details don't matter the sum is best for all involved.

I think in fact going out on top is appropriately symbolic.

I've wanted to write and have written a few scribbles either looking back, pained in the moment or looking forward but none did I publish. To satisfy my urge to write a craigslist ad I read about a husband that was actually looking to have his wife hit on tickled my creative muse. Probably some catharsis involved there, I stole liberally from The Artist's past to flesh out my deficiencies in explaining what it would have been like to grow up a girl with a healthy interest in sexual things. Treaded dangerous ground, probably some of the misconceptions that a person would read into that blog about either her or I if taken in a literal autobiographical way would be a bit embarrassing, but I have aged to the point I really don;t care if someone has an unflattering mis-impression. Plus probably is cathartic to explore an alternate universe where I did "ask for it" in the sense I realize the ways in which I contributed to the outcome here. Well, not meaning this piece to be self analysis so I'll leave it there.

Monogamy Blog is actually despite it all relevant to us. Monogamy isn't easy, it requires a lot of work, and brings immense rewards. Veering from that even by degrees is fraught with peril. One little indiscretion permits the next and so on. When its right though it is indescribably secure.

Her monogamy was pretty inclusive of nearly two decades. I believe that she even held off consummating her new relationship until she had given me a cryptic delivery about "moving on" and wanting a divorce. Even if that sequence is off a couple of months one way or the other, the results are sadly the same. As I told her when she was able to clear the air a bit and unburden her conscience; (something I have had to do in my way numerous times, so I knew the pain that brings.) "I would be sad and upset to see you with another partner even if it occurs quite a while down the road. The fact that you already have someone in mind doesn't alter that fact that I am alone and you have someone. You just have the sequence out of order. Your leaving is the devastating blow. Not the why."

My monogamy, such as it is, is pretty much as it was. I have decided that since I tend to put a lot of significance into the physical, and I know my penchant for wallowing in excessive guilt and self-flagellation (and not the fun kind!) I'd hold off a while till I'm ready. It helps with that goal that I'm in a small town with a five to one male to female ratio! I've had some casual interest from some of the adventurous set here, I wasn't up for it at the time so to speak, but of course it does fuel a certain level of fantasy when I re-consider.

Once, before a date I had scheduled, A friend's girlfriend said, "Good! You NEED to get laid." I explained that that wasn't the point. I just craved long-absent companionship, conversation, and touch.

"You mean you are going to take her out and then NOT fuck her??!? Now that's just RUDE!"

Apparently things have changed in two decades.

Speaking of sluts. My now soon to be ex-wife isn't actually. I wonder sometimes if the new beau assumes that because he was successful in gaining her acceptance of his offer of a new and improved life that she would be susceptible to other entreaties. I notice he tends to, for example, encourage her to stay out of the bars and phones her often from work. She must be a bit tired at times; driving him here and there which takes away a good portion of her idle time. Perhaps that is all just the blush of a new relationship asserting itself where you are kind of inseparable. I worry about control issues, but recognize that it is my own control issues coloring how I see that.

So I see the term: "Slutty wife" popping in from Yahoo. I check. Sure enough Yahoo says that that is not page one material. Keep in mind too, that that ranking such as it is is skewed by my friend with that moniker that has a blog of that name and is in my blogroll, so take that out and it would probably be page 63.

I dunno where I go from here creatively. I thought about fictionalizing here; thought that would look a little clingy (which I am not feeling.) Thought about snarking here. This I won't do. This place was sometimes used to air differences but each gave their view. I won't sully it by insults without her chance to tell her side. I liked the yin and yang of our companion posts. I may occasionally post retrospective pieces if it seems relevant and timely to for example something I read elsewhere. I once wrote in my head a pretty good piece after finally hearing in context over XM Sirrius Sattelite the full un-edited version of Closer by N.I.N. I still might post that it made a nice coda I thought. But maybe this isn't the end. I can still point to great blogs where couples are doing healthy things, scintillating ones were the naughty ones may offer cautionary examples. I dunno.

- The Geek

Complimentary blogging.

2010-11-06T16:50:00.000-07:00

Not in the sense of free or gratis, rather actual thoughts about blogging and compliments.

I snippped this as an edit from where the above post started to veer away to specifics. I was outlining regrets that I had if any about the blog and I digressed to a discussion about what I have learned this last year about the value of compliments. Like voting in Chicago, do it early and often.

I was saying how most of my regrets center on not using the things we learned about each other to find ways to better express my love and admiration of my wife. I thought then and now she is sexy as hell, in all of her various shapes and sizes, and moods, and modes of dress. Hell, when I met her she was just about as frumpy as she knows how to be. Peach sweats, tennis shoes. I remember them as K-swiss but I'm probably wrong. I remember impressions and my mind fills in the rest. She remembers precise details or not at all. I remember thinking what a cute girl, what an ugly outfit.

I have a real problem expressing compliments when I do in fact care deeply about how they will be received. I saw the example of my father's trite repetitive, shallow delivery of compliments (That was the best meal ever.) and my mothers frankly bitchy responses to those (how is it different than the same meal I served 10 days ago?). Eventually it degenerated into nearly silent meal times. What I learned was that a compliment has to be different every time and analytical, accurate and impressive.

Hard to do for two decades.

Recently I had a couple of bouts of sadness as I was reminded of this in two different ways.

The first was an over heard conversation where a teenage girl was answering the question posed by her friend, "What does she possibly see in him?" The question was more detailed than that but I am trying to avoid snark here. The gist was that the person was not immediately apparently attractive on really any level, where the "she" certainly is on a lot of levels. The response was, "Well he really loves her and she is really happy lately." Broke my heart. I had thought (and still do) that the effusive references to "That beautiful WHOA-man" as he pronounces it sounded hackneyed and insincere. Why? She is in fact beautiful. Outside as well as inside when she allows herself to be. I fancy myself good with words.

Would it have been so hard to find something, anything to say. I could probably find a dozen ways to say essentially the same thing. I could have complimented her external self in a myriad of ways. This is not the time so I won't wax personal about things that are not my place. But in general from the sensitivity and responsiveness she is blessed with on the physical side to the individual parts that make up the whole. From the straight smallish nose that people go to plastic surgeons to get to her stunted (slightly) toes. Wait that last might not flatter, but you get the idea. Internally, (not that...PERVERT! Well,, sorry I should consider the audience..no offense?) she has a bright mind, incredible recall of dates and names and places. She is a great mother, a responsive and empathic lover, a fierce defender of her friends and her kids and brilliantly creative in word and image. Her sense of space and color is amazing. I can tell when something is 'off' but not what it missing. Anyway the point here is not to get sappy and run on about her qualities which is entirely beside the point at this point.

The second occurrence was a woman I am recently a little taken with. I sense a good heart there, but there is a bit rescuing needed and despite my pangs in that direction, I think it isn't what I have the time, emotional energy, or resources for a project. Still one muses. She has over time over-plucked her brows and unbeknown to me self-conscious about it. They don't look overly plucked to me on close inspection, but are fine, a bit sparse, sure, but what attracted my notice was the lazy-apostrophe shape of them. Like ' turned 90 degrees. I thought she looked puzzled. On the other hand with my long-winded non-sequiturs with deviating asides..(NOT that kind of deviations! Pervert!)...I make a lot of people puzzled. So maybe she was just puzzled.

Another day I saw her her brows were drawn 'properly' (again, I can see whats wrong but not how to make it right generally). I mentioned to her that I had almost said something the other day about them, and that I liked this version better. She smiled and told me about her angst about them and how she had over plucked and can't seem to get them to grow back where she needs them.

I apologized for digging up of a sensitivity. I explained that everyone has a sensitivity about one part of their body or the other. I started to give examples then realized shut up, maybe she doesn't like her ears (cute) or her eyes (soulful) or..well you get the idea. I stopped and said. Wait a minute while I figure out how to best say this.

I came up with something to the effect that we are all given a collection of parts by our Creator, this nose, those eyes, a set of ears, a frame, curves or not and so on. (I truly believe God makes no ugly people. Ugly people are self-creations sometimes with the help of external influences...but that aside I left out)

What I told her was that all of her individual parts would be the envy of someone that wants to change this or that about her. I told her I thought all her individual parts individually and the way they happen to be arranged for her all together were attractive. I was just digging my way out of a hole.

She told me "That is the best compliment I have ever gotten!" I was pleased with myself and thought of Jack Nicholson after paying Helen Hunt a compliment: "I may have overshot............I was aiming for just enough to keep you from heading out that door."

(A must-watch, but surely you've seen it?) I decided that I am going to express every single complimentary thing I think about anyone from now on. Sure I'll look like a schmaltzy lounge lizard hitting on everyone, but to hell with it. Unless their husband/boyfriend/girlfriend of protective neighbor kicks my ass, how is that gonna hurt anyone?

-The Geek

I kissed a girl, and I liked it...

2009-03-21T09:42:00.000-07:00

The bisexual fantasies we play at in bed usually involve my imagining the follow on post by my wife being thus-ly titled.

In the rich aural experience of her imaginative erotic tales spun midst past sessions in bed, often she tells of seduction of some young ingenue, testing her limits and urging her past them.

She was a bit like that with me last night.

Pretty unexpected given the long drought. She is a bit more assertive in life having returned to the small town she grew up in.

Last night after a thourough fairly full-body mole/blemish/assorted curiosities check, I suggested she would be more comfortable if she were also shirtless.

She agreed, and I exchanged a front rub for the back rub that was the apology tendered for the pain she had caused extracting various ingrown hairs and others of its ilk.

Not necessarily tit-for-tat as it were, but I was a bit out of practice.

I then offered an ingrown check in her nether regions, which in the cold light of day sounds neither romantic nor particularly attractive.

Having gotten her pants off I proceeded to perform my very best version of a cunninlingus technique explained to me by a charitable bi-sexual girl. She writhed appreciatively and often.

I began adding first a finger, then two. Some discomfort seemed evident so I prodded and adjusted carefully. When I seemed to have achieved angle and acquiescence I noted that some additional naturally occurring lubricant wouldn't be amiss. Generally, some foreplay fixes that. And yes, I am well aware how lucky I am the the foreplay that works best is her performing some fellatio. ~shrug~

I rotated around aiming eventually for a 69 position, which in truth often devolves to 68 where I owe her one. Which seemed OK, given I had at least this time gotten a head start on the debt.

As my posterior got in range a bit, she began grasping and stroking me a bit through my shorts. Then pressure was shifted and applied generally to my perineum and then specifically to my, er well you you know..~blush~ back there, through the shorts.

She got a bit more intrusive, then roughly pulled the shorts down just enough to access, and slipped a finger in. There was a noticeable increase in wetness, showing me that perhaps its not a fellatio specific response so much as a please the other person arouses her response.

In a throaty voice she more or less ordered me to my knees and continued to press into me...I was dry and stretched and uncomfortable but very much aroused. She said,

"Can you take another?"

"Uh, how many do you have in now??"

"Two."

That somewhat explained the discomfort.

I'm not sure if I answered the question or not. Face pressed to the mattress I willed myself to relax.

Reading my mind, or perhaps my tensed body...

"Relax..",

She said.

Sidling up to me, she used the thrust of her pelvis on the forward stroke, clearly "fucking" me.

"Isn't 'fucking' someone great?" I gasped out between tensing.

She rolled off and assumed a more submissive posture and let me reclaim the dominant position. I didn't last long.

Afterward, a little chagrined, as I get in these situations, I said to her her,

"Next time: one word: LUBE. I'm a little sore"

"One word, NO!" she said. "Or, STOP!. Or OW!"

"I thought it would get easier if I held out," I replyed.

"Men always think that..." She said bemused.

When she kissed and seduced a girl, I never really picture me as the fuckee. Especially not in male mode. There is undeniably an unstated homo-erotic content to this play for us, though clearly the act itself between a male and a female is by definition not and for many couples comfortable free-wheeling play.

This was, like all similar mostly unblogged about experiences, both very hot and a little disturbing. Not so much disturbing as disconcerting.

This morning, a little sore, it was arousing to think about the source of that little reminder.

Up earlier than her, I crawled in next to her sleeping form and attempted, probably unwisely to re-channel the time. I hoarsed to her some comment about how what was hot wasn't the prostate massage, which missed the mark. Rather it was her course whispers of encouragement. I was actually fishing for direct quotes of what it was she said during as I can't quite gather them. Sleeping, I don;t think she even really had any idea what I was saying or doing for a while.

We ended up inflagrante or some such and I finished fairly quickly though not as soon as the night before. She, having 'finished' a time or two before me, sleepily said as I rolled off, "But you didn't finish..."

I explained with a smile that I did, and went to make her some breakfast as sort of an apology to the sleepus interuptus.

Woo.

2009-03-21T09:15:00.001-07:00

In times long past, I used to complain directly about the lack of frequency of sex. In sophomoric fashion at times, I would say,

"Blow me!"

To which she would rejoin,

"Woo me!"

Well, apparently I did.

I guess it wouldn't matter if she had been reading the blog or not if the end result was some connubial bliss, but I kind of hope not. She would have no reason to know I am back blogging, but she is much more blog-sophisticated than I an may have this on a reader or a feed. It just seems odd that just since whining here she initiated.

You read right, she initiated.

The only thing even remotely bedroom related I had brought up was when cleaning the yard and porch up I mentioned that we needed to bring the small ones crib in and finally set it up. (She hasn't slept in it yet at 2.5 years, but I digress.) I did point out that we need to kick this one out of our marital bed earlier than the others but it was conveyed (I hope) conversationally not accusatorilly.

My middle daughter had a birthday and my wife had to work, so I drove the birthday girl the 40 miles to the (relatively) "big city" (where at 4:00pm the first three stores we tried were closed!) She and I had a good time, had dinned together and did some clearance sale shopping. I was pretty proud of how budget conscious she was in her choices. I wished economic circumstances were different but was please at how adaptable my daughter was.

We returned and showed off what "Mom" had bought her. (This is a kind of fun tradition we seem to be starting with the practicalities of gift shopping so far away. The recipient picks out the gifts, but tries to anticipate what the giver would have likely gotten her. Works surprisingly accurately when viewed after the fact. For example, the oldest sister "got" her clothes, the youngest "got her a big red bouncy ball, the brother got her Pokemon stuff, etc.)

Anyway Mom was pleased at the gleam in daughters eye recounting our adventure. SHe had to ring up a purchase. (A cousin, -small town.) So we headed the rest of the way across the state line to our happy little acre of god's country, assuming God is experiencing a drought and likes an absence of neighbors.

Whilst at WalMart, I scanned the meat counter for yellow stickers of meat that needed to be moved before it starts moving on its own. I found vacume packed "random bison steak" (direct quote.) As I unpacked the grocery portion of our trip I mentally combined the good looking tri-color sweet peppers and the bison and came up with "buffalo-kebabs".

I was slicing and dicing like Ron Popeil when my wife returned. She leaned in for a kiss, I automatically presented a cheek, then realized, too late that possibly that was not where she had aimed. She settled for a peck, and said sotto voice,

"I made a little bed for her in 'her room' (an alcove off of ours.) Maybe I can get her into it tonight."

Clearly this was an invitation.

The child was well and truly wound up at 10:00 pm still when she began the attempt, so I felt no rush in joining her in the bedroom.

About 11:00, Good eats and some other show watched, I realized I better head back. As I approached the door I had a sense of dread, what if my wife is also asleep by now? The light under the door reassured, but the sense of trepidation remained.

She was reading, ALONE. I still had no idea where to start. "Blow me!" wasn't going to cut it, clearly.

I settled for nothing and picked up a Soduku book.

As I finally tired and put it down, I couldn't bring myself to initiate. I laid down and snuggled in my covers, careful not to turn away or over as I do when I sleep so as not to give body English of rejection.

She rose to the bait and said,

"Roll over, let me look at that thing on your back."

My wiofe missed her calling as a dermatologist. Not relavant here, but perhaps a post another time is the odd connection between hunting in-growns and black heads and its causational relationship to sexual congress.

Which happened

In non-previously-scripted ways.

Involving submission, a little oral sex, some fingering, some coarsely whispered dominance, and some anal.

But not like you'd think....

Money, Religion and Politics

2009-03-19T18:34:00.000-07:00

Aren't those the three things one is supposed to avoid in polite company to avoid conflict?

On the other hand if you can't discuss such with your spouse, why on earth would you get married at all? (Oh, right for the sex! ~grin~)

I just remembered another time recently that I felt connected. When we met she was a Regan hating Democrat that liked (as a person) Barbara Bush. She ended up a W fan really early on in his career long before he was the Republican nominee. I had some other actual conservative in mind then but we had spirited but friendly discussions. In the general we both voted for Bush (I know, I Know)....

Anyway this last election cycle, I was absolutely un-enthused by Senator McCain, no Goldwater Republican, he.

I was considering Obama, as the strongest message I could send to the so-called conservatives that enough with the R.I.N.O.'s. I foresaw signs of this downturn we are in and thought a Reagan-style communicator was what we need. (I like the rest of the country mistook good speech writing and great teleprompter skills for oratory skill). It would really have been full-circle if she had started gone left to right and I later went hard right to moderate left.

At some point in between Obama's very careful generalizations and fluff, I was able to discern that I agreed with him on not one single idea or policy. So there wasn't any real way I could support him. I wasn't particularly surprised and in no way dismayed when he won. I like him a lot for his symbolic value. Never again will anyone of color have any reason to complain that society keeps them down, positive I think all the way around. Off track already here but my main problem lately with Obama is he claims to listen to all ideas, but really just scours the usual liberal haunts for someone that agrees that his already set agenda is actually economically sound. John Maynard Keyes has been disproved every time his theories have been employed, yet he is still quoted and extolled as if he weren't the "big picture" economist who clearly hadn't the mathematics chops to balance a checkbook. Oops I'm way off topic here....

Anyway I was watching the news the other morning before going to bed, and she was in the room. I have been trying to minimize my terse comments about the ignorant son of an economist(really!)with mixed results. She comment, reasonably that didn't it take a lot longer than 2 months for anything he did or plans to do impacts the economy. I allowed that generally that is so, but the stock market is forward valuing and non-partisan. It doesn't care at all about anything but whether or not the climate is good for making money. I don;t think I necessarily persuaded her, but I felt no urgency to do so, no did I feel like my ideas were dismissed. In short we just had an interesting discussion as I enjoy with anyone on the rare occasion that I am not so argumentative to wear me and the other person out.

It seemed at the time diagnostically significant that we could enjoy each other intellectually.

Couple of days behind...

2009-03-19T17:54:00.000-07:00

I was thinking about my last post at work just after I posted it. I had in mind posting daily again, but having trouble getting here (the blog) from there (my phone) *

My wife and I attended a series of marriage building classes recently. Unfortunately she went alone to 3/4 of them, In my defense I had to work or sleep in preparation for work for most of the scheduled classes.

The instructor told of a time when he found a note of "10 reasons I love Mr. Instructor". I instantly realized that she was pissed off and was trying to talk herself into not throwing the bum out. As he continued the story he alluded to details that confirmed my hunch but that wasn't his point. He felt great reading that. (I, ever paranoid, would have felt horrible!)

I was thinking of doing something similar here but more about posting little positive things I like about being in this relationship. Not for her, but for me.

I have noticed something post-able each day but can't at the moment think of them. I gave up on the quiet dinner for two idea an instead used the ingredients for a hastily rushed nice dinner for all of us as I rushed out the door to work. I beamed a little at her praise at the meal. I am so needy! :) The next morning when I got home and she was still sleeping I made myself Mexican style steak and eggs with the left-overs reserving some chopped onions and steak for her for her omelet.

Although these things were done with her in mind a bit it wasn't the focus. I enjoy cooking and it brought me joy.

*I am unable to post from work because the Motorola Razor, while engineered well on the hardware side has the worst possible outdated software for web browsing.

You can't get there from here....

2009-03-16T00:44:00.000-07:00

A man (defying all stereotypes) stops by the side of the road and asks an old timer for directions.

Scratching his beard, deep in thought, he hesitates, then advises, "You can't get there from here." He goes on to explain that you have to come back the way you came and take a different route to get there...

Like that.

Two years ago in a delusional haze I now know of as a pink fog I had some interest in exploring some cross dressing feelings. My wife discovered some smoky, tacky, thrift-store clothes and decided I was having an affair, apparently with a nude woman with poor taste in clothes.

A long discussion, some timid explorations, bridges of trust built and over time one event and exploration then another and so on led to real intimacy, unfettered sexuality and this blog.

I don't really know where the apogee of these experiences was but I know the nadir. It was when hastily typed divorce papers in hand she announced a little smugly that she had been experimenting with me, sexually. That she had come to the "shocking" conclusion that if I hinted at sex and she "gave in" I seemed easier to get along with, less short, less critical. My, sex does all that? Imagine! Call the relationship experts.

OK, enough snark, I think. That wasn't the point of this post, nor the feeling I had prior to sitting down to type. That flavor is just some residual defensive pain as I think back to that time.

We separated, I crashed at a friends house for the longest period of separation of our entire married life together. I have my opinions about the causation, she agreed at least said so about some of them.

We reconciled. Even seemed to be making some progress back, then stalled like an airplane pulled out of a dive before enough airspeed is achieved.

Sex as I recall was a bit subdued but tender and sincere. Then something.

No idea what.

I am just sure I should know, but I don't. "If you have to ask....." is left unsaid.

My much to be envied position of husband to a marvelously inventive and enthusiastic nymphomaniac is no more.

She reports having no libido.

It is not unreasonable that there could be some medical and attendant hormonal challenges. It is the right time of life for such and there are symptoms and some pain so reticence is perfectly reasonable. A friendly cuddle would seem to be within the possible, but not the likely. She was never fond of even the classic post-coital cuddle. Yet another example of or respective cross-gender expectation wiring.

As I said, she reports that it is quite difficult to find herself in the mood.

I am of a mind to believe her.

Its been two and a half months since we shared any form of intimacy in the bed we share.

We are roommates. That is when my rotating shift puts me in that bed concurrent to her.

As I said to her when I pointed out the two month anniversary of our mutual celibacy, Its not the sex I miss. It is what it seems to imply. Abject rejection.

She always encouraged me to be more comfortable with masturbation. I have. It still feels as lonely as ever but I am much better at it with a shade less guilt than I used to. That's something.

I had a friend who suddenly stopped hearing from a girlfriend, a day stretched to several, then weeks, he finally cornered her. She reported that after a while it felt like an overdue library book that she was too embarrassed to return.

I consider making an approach regularly. Plan little dinners, little times together. Always it gets pushed aside. Part of me harbors churlish resentment. I feel its unfair that on only one occasion in nearly 18 years of marriage have I failed to rise to the occasion when she wanted sexual favors. Admittedly she asked for little that way being fairly self contained in her sexuality. Her time with me felt like a gift from her I think from both of our perspectives. I minded that not much, but still...

It isn't like she didn't seem to enjoy it. On an orgasm-for-orgasm basis, on a level of intensity scale, on any reasonable measure, she seems to have the upper hand when it comes to the benefits derived. In fact, all snarkish tone removed: she seems easier to get along with, less short, less critical when she has shared some connubial bliss.

I genuinely think that the (biological?) (divinely appointed?) (evolved?) reason that humans have sex for other than procreative reasons is it keeps papa wolf returning, eagerly, to the den. It gives mama wolf a reason to smile at his arrival. That it helps to smooth out the bumps inevitable in any relationship. That it mechanically joins bodies to join hearts.

We are both under a lot of stress. I have been a homeowner since I was 19 years old. Always 40 in my mind, my body has caught up. In a few days I will voluntarily or otherwise give up the last vestiges of my lifetime of real estate equity to the bank. In a positive vein for 1/2 of the 80K I am underwater in my once worth 1/3 of a million dollar city home, I am going to buy this double wide on an acre in a truly beautiful little valley. Still, stress is stress. even the good kind On my few oddly scheduled days off, I run back to the soon abandoned house and scavenge through a lifetime of possessions. I drag boxes and crates and hampers of stuff that she must labor to sort through the dust and the debris. A fire and a settlement would have been a lot cleaner and clearly more profitable.

I remember reading somewhere a long time ago something the details of which since forgotten, but the essentials remembered but not oft practiced. You can't wait until....fill in the blank. Could be until the finances are better, until the kids are in school, until until until...

The point was that happiness is a state of mind, takes effort and you need to just decide to be happy and do those things that bring happiness whether there is time for it or not. Whether you have the means or not. Whether you think time or conditions are right or not.

I want what we had.

I want to get there from HERE. Even if I have to find my way back to THERE first or whatever.

I read some true wife confessions tonight. Any number of the negative ones could well be speaking her mind. Likely as not one of them is. Doesn't matter which. I know which could apply and what changes need to occur for the wife who posted to feel some progress.

Would she believe my resolve? Likely not. Is it unreasonable that she would be skeptical of change? No, change is hard. Course correction is difficult with currents and faulty rudders being what they are.

Several were hopeful and upbeat telling of progress made, reconnections. I hope and yearn for one of these epitaphs.

Do I have a plan? Direction? A starting point? Nope.

Waking her up at 1:30 in the morning for a reluctant orgasm would seem ill advised.

Blog gender...

2008-11-23T22:44:00.000-08:00

Not sure what this means.

These results from Gender Analyzer would have made perfect sense until my better half chose to remove her posts.

Now that it is my thoughts alone, trans issues aside it it's interestingly neutral.

We guess http://fullcontactmonogamy.blogspot.com/ is written by a man (54%), however it's quite gender neutral.

Pyromanaical Catharsis.

2008-11-13T14:45:00.000-08:00

We live way out in the country. We are used to 2 big barrels for trash, two for recycling plus four green waste bins. We now get one that's smaller than any of the barrels we got in the city, and it costs more. We consider ourselves lucky that we are even in the service area at all.

The kids had me gather dozens of cardboard boxes for an ill-conceived then abandoned Halloween project. Now rain-warped with roles of masking tape peeling off, they had to go.

The previous tenant used to raise fighting cocks, so some chicken wire enclosures were available, and I have a lighter and well a vast understanding of all things involving conflagrations. (Misspent youth.)

I gathered them together, examined the wind direction, velocity and dry fields due east, and decided this was probably a bad idea. Most of my fires, historically have been bad ideas so this deterred me not at all. I judiciously got a hose stretched in range and had the water flowing to insure the shared well pump is actually on.

I could NOT get it to light with the wind. As a purist, I have always eschewed petroleum distillate-based accelerants in my arson activities, except for purely their entertainment value. I sent The Boy (9 ~ yeah I know I'm a horrible parent) into the house for paper.

He came out with a thick sheave. He said,"Mom said you'd enjoy burning these."

I grabbed the stack and as I glanced at the top I realized it was the divorce packet she had recently printed, and painstakingly hand printed in her carefully chosen responses.

My heart sunk a little at the remembrance of her in a moment of finally released, suppressed anger hauling them out of a drawer. I recognized of course the welcome symbolism of burning them however.

I read through them noting with approval her obvious desire to be fair, but still. Hard to imagine how exactly we got from A to X and back to say, B or C. Sobering.

They burned bright. I hope we do too.

Well, I remenbered, 'cause it was hot!

2008-11-13T14:43:00.000-08:00

So she said when I sheepishly said that I had "forgot" (read repressed) the detail she mentioned I left out.

What I can't write speaks volumes.

2008-11-12T10:48:00.000-08:00

I have always (like nearly any red-blooded American male) enjoyed/encouraged/perved upon my wife's predilections towards the fairer sex. I mean it's just hot.

What's good for the goose, however, is NOT good for the gander.

Some time ago, my wife had a little fantasy involving my femme dressed up side. Ok, still hot. With another crossdresser, umm, well pushing it bit...

Her enthusiasm was infectious though. I-er-well, practiced a bit. I mean its not like I haven't had up close and personal "in depth" lessons on you know..~blush~ fellatio.

Another time she told me she had been awakened (aroused even!) by an erotic dream that compelled her to masturbate. Hot! A homo-erotic dream...er, hot? With me as the centerpiece...rapid hydraulic failure.

Still, there are times when she is thinking about such things. Like when I am fellating her aroused clit for example.

A couple of weeks ago, I stopped during the middle of one such event and reached into the drawer where I keep some crossdressing thing and pulled out the life-like vibe there. No, it wasn't mine and I had questioned her as to why it was there, and she explained she was just putting it up out of the way...

It isn't mine. Not coincidentally looks a lot like mine. She had purchased it years ago at an adult shop by herself while I waited in the car. She had endured the smirks and grins and the "testing it out to make sure it works." I found it quite flattering that she had chosen one with similar shape, coloring and vein-ature as mine. Most politic of her to select a six-incher to let me tower over it. (Ok my extra inch might not have intimidated Mr. Buzzy, but neither was I threatened by him!)

That night went well. Me demonstrating my furtively practiced skills. I, unlike her do have a gag reflex, but still. Both of us tonguing together on it conjured up all sorts of sights and textures and feelings. It was hot, but at the conclusion, spent, sated, I said, "Let's not speak of this again!" only half in jest.

A little aside:

I have to explain the unexplainable here. Why it is that I found from an early age crossdressing fascinating. Why it is that although this had a sexual component when I was pre-pubescent it is difficult to channel that place now.

Short version:

Repressed household, domineering mother, older sister with privilege and pretty things. Panties on were private, but laundry and folding of same were in no way women's work so handling them held no appeal, seeing them on was naughty. So when dressed there is a narcissistic suspension of my maleness in my mind and the ability to model and view and voyeur them as if I were seeing them on a girl..... I think.

As puberty approached I was still small in stature, slender, but my male bits didn't hide well to say the least especially proportionally speaking. Also I had all sorts of societal messages equating queer issues with gay issues, only recently realized as distinct. I mean if something seems gay, it must be. The very phrase "light in the loafers" and that stereotype seemed femme, when really what gay guy wants that? they like 'em butchy and beefy and strong. dunno.

So last night I was going down on my very female partner in a totally not gay way at all. I was slurping a way and took up some flesh in my mouth and saw what I perceived to be a look in her eye. I said something like, "you like me sucking it don't you?" or some such an allusion quickly understood to the other occasion we had agreed "Let's not speak of this again!"

Eventually she had me on my knees in a wig and a shaper slip, her against the wall being directive.

She spun a tale, slowly pushing my boundaries. At some point she had me noticing the bristles on the chin going down on me. Apparently (as I inquired about later) she was monitoring my arousal and "squick-ish-ness" using my flagging erection as a barometer. She quickly shifted gears to have me notice that it was in fact a girl in drab, wearing a fake cock, and we all lived hornily ever after.

Smart girl this one.

Hmmm, there seems to be a disparity here....

2008-11-11T15:22:00.000-08:00

I took one of those quizzes. It produced the following button:
Powered By Sex Stores
In the text of the results it indicated that I was worth LESS than the average rate of ~merely~ $235/hour for such services. Even still, that is a bit more an hour than my present occupation...hmmm..

Hers though had no such reduction in the text:

Powered By Favorite Sex Toys
Apparently her button is accurate and mine is meant to protect my male pride.

Boundaries and Seeking Validation. -The Geek

2008-10-25T16:25:00.000-07:00

I have long known if not really acknowledged that most of my online activities have been an attempt for some external validation. This is not at all because loving support, praise and acceptance are in anyway lacking at home. Rather it is pathological, childhood rooted, and on balance, unhealthy.

About a year ago the conflict for my quest for this kind of validation and her unease with how I went about it was in a place where once again it could have come to a head. At that time we as a couple were in a pretty good place. Secure with each other and for us pretty open. She chose at that time to embark on a grand experiment in trust and openness. As she explained it it wasn't at all ever for her about the activity or the imagery or words but rather my need to be secretive. IN her words if I had simply said from the start, "Hey, I'm a grown-assed man and I'll do what I please on line!" that she wouldn't have that constant suspicious dread about where and with whom I forayed into the depths of online depravity. It was my constant promises that I'd abstain and then relapsed that struck co-dependent chords with her. By shifting her paradigm, she found that she (at the time) very much enjoyed sharing with me my virtual travels.

her words at the time:

"My hubby and I, while both enjoying great kinky sex with each other, have frequently found ourselves on different pages sexually. It was never that the sex wasn't good. It has always been good. But sometimes, being human has caused us to not communicate our desires to each other as well as we should. Or, more likely, it has caused us to not see and hear what the other is thinking and feeling. I think that is probably pretty common in long marriages.

Lately, we have been on the same page. Maybe even worse, we are turning those pages together and turning them awfully quickly. We are getting to chapters that we never thought to reach. This blog is one example.

Hubby has wanted me to post pictures/video/stories for some time. He has wanted me to join him in his internet sexploration. Because of interpersonal issues, I was leery of getting out in the great beyond with him. Today, as we blurfed the sex blogs, I smiled at him and asked him how long he had been waiting for me to do this with him.

"All of my life", he said.

I feel a little silly in hindsight. He was going to do it whether I was leery of going with him or not. So why not just join in and share this with him? Was I afraid of where we might go in the long run? About how far the kink would take us? Probably. And I probably still am. But, there is something inherently intimate in giving one's self up and allowing the possibilities to happen. It takes a level of trust that is almost frightening to give. By giving myself to him in this way, by sharing secret parts of ourselves without guilt or recrimination, we have reached a level of closeness and intimacy that we hadn't yet reached in our blankety-teen years of marriage. It's nice and very lovely...if such a word can be used to describe what we have been trying sexually.

So now, I am thinking to myself, if he has been waiting all his life for me to go down this path with him.....I, equally, have been waiting all my life for our marriage to achieve this closeness. In a contrary manner, I have been avoiding and running, and decrying, and blaming, and just generally bitching about the thing that would have brought me what I wanted all along.
(snip)
Because we love each other."

During these heady times of such freedom and trust, I felt very open and honest and credited this blog and some of the other activity with bringing us closer. I think, in hindsight that I had that backwards. Only through our carefully cultivated closeness was we able to take such huge risks. Its much like couples that successfully negotiate the dangerous shoals of poly and casual multi-partner couplings. In only works for those that are very secure in their love for each other.

In the past year I moved away from home, and was only able to visit for a few days at a time roughly every two weeks. This is not a recipe for closeness. Absence does not in fact make the heart grow fonder. It makes living by oneself comfortable and sudden intrusions into established routines jars. We have moved back in together in quite cramped quarters with 4 of the 5 children and the re-adjustment has been brutal.

I get the impression that she has the impression that in my absence I have taken the license granted and gone on grand online adventures during the scant hours I am not working. I confess I tried mightily, but just as real life living breathing relationships need time and attention so do online friendships and more. I have been grossly unsuccessful in such pursuits, but not for lack of trying. IN fact my efforts to me have taken on an air of desperation and it shows I think.

The frenetic pace of the project that employs me has finally ceased defying economic gravity and has come to a screeching slowdown. Recently it was harder to get overtime and now overtime is abolished.

It is going to be catastrophic financially, but I am looking forward to the overtime now available in repairing our strained friendship.

Six-pack. The Geek

2008-10-16T07:33:00.000-07:00

No, not the abs.

Not "of beer".

Or soda.

Or the Dodge 440 with three two-barrel carbs.

This odd sculpture is somehow closer to the mark...

It is a sexual kink described by "A" of Stick & Giggle as "The Shocker" here or in the Urban Dictionary here.

We have accomplished this manuever on occaision, but this time it was a bit of a command performance.

She had gotten a good shave, and that of course prompted me to offer to check her results.

With my tongue.

Gliding up from ankle to inner thigh, then teasingly up and around, just missing the point of the exercise then back for a long, tender swipe up her slick slit.

As her petals opened, sweetly fragrant, I delved and turned and twisted and probed till I found the spot.

It for her is (discovered last year sometime) is actually south of her little nub and a little to the right if kneeling before her in ministration.

Finding, teasing, licking, nibbling as she was arching, writhing, cumming.

"I want you to six-pack me while you do that."

Never one to miss an opportunity for some graphically verbal stimulation, I asked her to describe exactly digit she wanted where, and how.

I suggested it would be more ergonomic if she, for example sat on my face as I did the bit of prestidigitation. She wanted me, though laying across her, pinning her, making her take it longer than she might otherwise be able to. We compromised into the shape of Bill and Ted's favorite number.

I managed the reverse of the conventional hold with a thumb in her quite slippery cunt and my index and middle finger in her ass.

The key to (relatively) comfortable anal lurve as AAG likes to call it is to enter gently then short movements that don;t actually cause the inserted finger/plug/cock to actually move relative to the tissue contacted, but rather just moves the entire assembly in and out as the ring of muscles maintains a firm grip, at least until the stimulation causes a hot, horny, creamy response.

Eventually I was pistoning in and out, to her delighted discomfort, lapping her juices and teasing her little ganglia of misplaced nerves with lips, teeth and tongue.

Meanwhile my awkwardly bent back cock was fucking her throat as I tried really hard to ignore how good that felt so as not to finish before I completed my anticipated around the world tour.

I pulled my head up and craned back around to mention, casually, that I intended to ream her ass with my cock next. I reminded her of "the rule" made up one time during that hot ass to mouth and back session we had in a shower one time. If one hole gets tired/sore/used up, I get to select another, at random.

I rotated 180 degrees, rotated her legs into the locked and upright position and eased my cock into her ass.

Fucking away, I growled at how eager I was for her to cry uncle there so I could go back to fucking her face.

"You like that don;t you?" she whispered..."Using me as you 'fuck toy'".....

"ULP!" I thought..(not that it stopped my insistent cock with a mind of its own from reaming her ass while my slipper thumb pressed her clit into her pubis...."This is exactly the sort of objectification that I had resolved to avoid to ensure she felt valued and humanized, as I stated just recently in a response to a readers comment.

Her continued aural assault of filthy talk soon had me spurting in only the first of the three holes on my itinerary.

Later I explained my discomfort with (at the moment) objectification of her given that we are currently in a bit of a honeymoon period after a very difficult time-out period in our relationship.

"You see?" she said with a knowing smile.."this is why men are programmed to roll over and go to sleep after getting off..you should try it sometime, you tend to over analyze the sex."

I protested I am just trying to recapture the things that make us connected.

"It felt very connected to me," she said "...connected with your cock to my ass!"

Fantasy-vs-Reality Based Sex - The Wife

2008-09-27T01:48:00.001-07:00

Hubby and I approach sex differently, specifically masturbation, but encompassing all sexual endeavors. I lose myself in the physical sensations. It feels so good, that nothing else is needed to help me reach a climax. Hubby relies on fantasy to help him along. Well, last night, hubby tried to convince me that fantasy is better.

Hubby began as posted here with his fingers. He brought me to two (or was it three?) orgasms with his fingers before I had even gotten in the shower. When our showers were over and we got down to business, he quickly finished off the rest of the finger job.

Now, on to the tongue. Hubby was feeling a little Dom though, so there were some conditions to my tongue lashing. With each orgasm, I was required to call out a different name, and picture that person doing the actual tonguing. It was fun, but at the crucial moment.....all visions of whomever between my legs vanished. I was back to riding the waves of sensation. I just CAN'T get off to fantasy. It has to be real for me.

This doesn't mean that I didn't enjoy the fantasy. It just means that when it's time for the actual orgasm, I need to be there and feeling all of the physical sensations. If I am distracted by thoughts in my head, even erotic thoughts, my orgasm will not be as intense. So, I think I will stick with my method. It's been working for me for some 30 years or so now.

But, Hubby did do something different this time, and it blew my mind. Orgasm denial. What sick twisted SOB thought this shit up? OK, maybe I doth protest too much. It was cruel to be lying there as he fucked me, close to cumming, needing to cum, begging to PLEASE LET ME CUM!!!!!!!! When he finally decided to allow me to orgasm, he pulled his cock out of me and immediately replaced it with his tongue. I came in an explosion of spasms and moans. It was incredible. Do I want to do it again? Probably. But, don't tell Hubby! He's always been jealous of my ability to get off. Using this technique on me is the perfect revenge!

With the Lights Out - The Wife

2008-09-27T01:47:00.001-07:00

After many years of preferring the dark, due to my being overweight, we have gotten back into the habit of keeping the lights on during intimate moments. Sometimes we use candles. Sometimes the closet light is left on. And sometimes, we do it with all the lights in the bedroom on.

But last night, the Hubby turned off all lights before joining me in bed. He slowly worked his way through our messy clothing strewn bedroom to the bed. And then he slowly worked his way into bed with me. We proceeded to the sex part, but started with some good old fashioned kissing.

The kissing led to touching, which led to more touching, which led to touching of VERY intimate nature. And I enjoyed it. But.......I missed having the lights on. I couldn't see Hubby's reactions, which are very important to me. I kept having to worry about bumping into something or kicking a tender spot, or getting an elbow in the way. It was too complex. It was too much to worry about.

I need light.

Therefore, I have to say that Kurt was right. With the lights out, yes it's dangerous. Leave those lights on so that I can have sex without worrying about what I might smash into!

Marathons - The Wife

2008-09-27T01:46:00.001-07:00

Ask and ye shall receive.

And Oh my my my, did I EVER receive. Knowing of my desire for a marathon cunnilingus session, my husband decided to make my desire come true. We got the little one to sleep, in her own room for a change, so that we could have some privacy. I jumped into the shower to soap and and shave up.

(an aside....I think it's only polite to get one's pussy well shaved ((I am terrified of waxing)) if one wishes to be licked and sucked by one's partner.)

So, off I went to do my ablutions. Hubby decided to join me in the shower. Now, let me say, I love shower sex, after I am DONE with the shower. Hubby has an inability to keep his cock to himself in the shower. Have you ever tried to shave when there is a hard on pressing against your pussy from behind? So, when hubby joined me in the shower, I was concerned that he would be impatient with my desire to finish my shower first. Interestingly, he was in a softer frame of mind, and left me alone for the most part. Because he kept his roving penis to himself, he watched me.....for the very first time in our many many many years of marriage, shave my pussy. It didn't seem to have a huge impact on him, however, I do believe that I will have him do it for me sometime.

We left the shower, all clean and ready for the night. I laid down on the bed with my legs spread and my pussy easily accessible. Hubby, knelt between my legs, and proceeded to perform oral sex on me in the most delightful way. He was so tender and worshipful of my pussy, that I actually forgot he was a man!!! Yes, I know....most men would read this and think "OUCH, that's HARSH". Well, actually, NO. You see, I had a very hard time with cunnilingus at first. I certainly enjoyed it, but I could never get over my feeling that I needed to be doing something in return. I mean, honestly....isn't that what my mouth was designed for? Hot, wet, fellatio....

So, by seeing him sans penis in my mind, I was finally able to completely give myself over to the sensations. I didn't have the driving need to do my duty floating around in my mind. And it was heavenly. He licked, he sucked, he nibbled. He took me to places I had never been with oral sex. (And I have always gotten off on being eaten out). I whimpered. I moaned. The only thing keeping me from screaming was my fear that I would rouse all of the children. My orgasm's were so intense that one blended into the next. I felt like I was floating in a river of molten lava.

(Damn...I am sounding like a romance novelist with my ethereal descriptions of my orgasm. Heaven forbid that I start referring to my cunt as a "hot honey oven")

And so, after bringing me to ecstasy, my hubby finally raised up from my pussy, and entered my cunt with his cock. My first penetration orgasm of the night was like the whipped cream on our fuck sundae. I proceeded to have two more as he pounded away at me with his massive hard-on. And, as he finished cumming in me, he did something that blew me away.

He went back down to my pussy with his mouth, sucked out his cum, and brought it back to my mouth.

OMFG!!!!!!! I came just from the taste. It was such an incredibly erotic and intimate thing to do!!! I LOVED it!!!! I licked and sucked at his tongue to get every drop off!! I love the taste of his cum. I love the taste of my pussy. Put the two together and it's two treats in one. Most men shy away from the taste of their own cream. That he would do this was so unexpected and felt so kinky. But at the same time, so loving and sharing. (hehehehe....now that is sharing!!!) How do I go about asking him to do that again??? I guess the direct approach will be best....

DO IT AGAIN!!!

Today was a continuation of the adoration of my pussy, but that post will have to come later. It's late. I'm tired. I think I need to take a seat.

On his face.

Will Dom for Cleanliness and Cunnilingus - The Wife

2008-09-27T01:45:00.001-07:00

Hubby is right. I just don't do the whole "Dominatrix" thing very well. In spite of my being fairly kinky and sexually adventurous, I am at heart a very shy and quiet person. I prefer to fade into the background at gathering. I don't draw attention to myself. And being dominant in any way is at odds with who I am and with my personality.

The few times in the past that the hubby had suggested that I might enjoy being a switch, I chose to pass on the opportunity. With one exception, which was noted here, I preferred to be spanked over spanking. And my one attempt at being the spankee, while being interesting, wasn't what either of us was really looking forward too.

Fast forward to yesterday, when hubby was my bitch. How on earth was I going to dominate him? Especially long distance. With a little creativity, and my cell phone, I persevered.

At first, I had him doing menial things while I was gone. I tried being forceful and degrading, but it just wasn't going to work. I changed my tactics. I became more of a mother giving instruction to a beloved but recalcitrant child. Efforts were rewarded. Failings were gently but firmly corrected with clear instruction on how to do better the next time.

At first, I had hubby watching cunnilingus porn. I called him to get updates on what he had learned.....a kind of oral progress report so to speak. He hadn't had much luck finding good cunnilingus porn online (yeah.......right!!!) In fairness, he did skip some of his planned viewing time to do some housework. I chose under the circumstances to let it slide.

I directed him in stroking himself. Up and down his hard shaft. Gently but firmly rubbing the throbbing instrument of my delight (there goes the romance novelist again). I commanded him to rub the precum from his cock, and place it on his tongue....with plans to suck his tongue during my lunch break.

I described a scene from the book Scruples, a book I read at the tender age of thirteen and which was wholly inappropriate for someone of my then tender years. Lots of hot sex. LOTS of hot sex. Anyway, there was a scene in which Spider is performing cunnilingus as Melanie's sex slave (I think I remember the names right. I can give details on the sex, but the name's might fail me). In it, he may not penetrate her. He works her wet flesh for a long time, all the while rubbing his cock against the sheet, until they cum. Her in his mouth, he on the sheets. I wanted hubby to perform this for me.

Well, the best laid plans of mice and men......and horny housewives.......I got home for lunch. The shower was wonderful. Lunch was delicious. Towel was clean and warm, so was my robe. And after all that, we had exactly ten minutes for cunnilingus before I had return to work.

DAMN DAMN DAMN DAMN DAMN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

So, I got ten minutes of pussy eating. He almost, but not quite, rubbed one off on the sheets. And I learned that I can be a switch. Just not in the "traditional sense"

Shhhhhh! I'm Oh SO Sleepy - The Wife

2008-09-27T01:44:00.000-07:00

I am sleepy tonight. The hubby was busy chatting online and all I heard was typa typa typa. We are both too tired even for sex.

The horrors!!!! Too tired for SEX!!!

hmmmmmm. Maybe a nap and then a poke

Pussy Worship - The Wife

2008-09-27T01:43:00.000-07:00

I am borrowing the title for this post from a forum thread I read recently. You see, I have always had a love/hate relationship with my pussy. In early adolescence, I started touching myself. A lot. A WHOLE LOT. Why not? It felt good. But there was a part of me that felt naughty for doing it. When I went through puberty, what had previously looked like an unopened flower....bloomed. And I HATED it!!! I was convinced that I had, by touching myself, stretched everything out. I just knew that any man who ever looked at my pussy would see what a dirty bad and naughty little girl I had been. And so I hated my pussy. But, I still loved the touch of my own hand. I spent time under the covers, stroking and rubbing. Sometimes even penetrating myself. It felt so wonderful and was such a relief sometimes. And so I loved my pussy.

One of the things I hated/loved most about my pussy was my clit. It always seemed inordinately prominent to my eyes. Like a glowing red beacon.

[Photo] I compared myself to the softly airbrushed pornography from my Dad's "not as well hidden as he thought" magazines, and I felt I was misshapen. What I didn't realize then, was that my seemingly enormous clit was also enormously sensitive. One or two flicks with a tongue or fingertip and I cum all over myself. I am so sensitive there, that I wowed my husband the other day by bringing myself to orgasm simply by rubbing my legs together. Twice. In less than a minute. ....in jeans no less.

Seriously.....

And so, in spite of my perceived failings in the area of clitoral beauty, I love my pussy for being the cum machine that it is.

Now, in my younger years, I shaved the area before porn stars were doing it. I've just never been a fan of the "lady garden" so to speak. It just doesn't feel clean to leave that on. I shaved the first time, when I first saw growth. My mother explained that it's ok to have hair and that I was going through some changes into womanhood. So I left it on. Until I turned 18, then OFF it went. With a few breaks because I wasn't sure how a shaved pussy would be received (not a problem in this day and age), I kept myself denuded. Occasionally, I would get the random compliment on my pussy. Since I was so certain I wasn't very attractive though, I took that as nothing more than pillow talk. Odd pillow talk, but pillow talk nonetheless.

Fast forward to now. Hubby loves my pussy. REALLY REALLY loves it (think Sally Field's Oscar Speech here). He spends a lot of time there, as mentioned before. Even overcoming my difficulty allowing myself to lay there without reciprocating. I have learned to trust that he truly likes the way I look there. But, did he love my pussy because he had to, or because it was truly worth worshipping?

Actions speak louder than words, and Hubby's most recent forays "down under" have confirmed for me that it's the pussy and not obligation. The worshipful way in which he nibbles, and licks, and sucks have sent me to levels of orgasm not previously felt. No man goes to that kind of effort out of a sense of obligation. NO man!

[Photo]
But, what of others? Would they feel the same way about my pussy with it's enormous clit and very full mons? Some complimentary comments posted about pictures of my pussy that I had placed on an online forum actually have me feeling pretty damned good about my pussy lately. I am feeling incredibly sexy and desirable in an area in which I had always felt a little over adequate (and therefore inadequate as a result).

Today, I love my pussy.

How Many Years? - The Wife

2008-09-27T01:42:00.000-07:00

My hubby and I, while both enjoying great kinky sex with each other, have frequently found ourselves on different pages sexually. It was never that the sex wasn't good. It has always been good. But sometimes, being human has caused us to not communicate our desires to each other as well as we should. Or, more likely, it has caused us to not see and hear what the other is thinking and feeling. I think that is probably pretty common in long marriages.

Lately, we have been on the same page. Maybe even worse, we are turning those pages together and turning them awfully quickly. We are getting to chapters that we never thought to reach. This blog is one example.

Hubby has wanted me to post pictures/video/stories for some time. He has wanted me to join him in his internet sexploration. Because of interpersonal issues, I was leery of getting out in the great beyond with him. Today, as we blurfed the sex blogs, I smiled at him and asked him how long he had been waiting for me to do this with him.

"All of my life", he said.

I feel a little silly in hindsight. He was going to do it whether I was leery of going with him or not. So why not just join in and share this with him? Was I afraid of where we might go in the long run? About how far the kink would take us? Probably. And I probably still am. But, there is something inherently intimate in giving one's self up and allowing the possibilities to happen. It takes a level of trust that is almost frightening to give. By giving myself to him in this way, by sharing secret parts of ourselves without guilt or recrimination, we have reached a level of closeness and intimacy that we hadn't yet reached in our blankety-teen years of marriage. It's nice and very lovely...if such a word can be used to describe what we have been trying sexually.

So now, I am thinking to myself, if he has been waiting all his life for me to go down this path with him.....I, equally, have been waiting all my life for our marriage to achieve this closeness. In a contrary manner, I have been avoiding and running, and decrying, and blaming, and just generally bitching about the thing that would have brought me what I wanted all along.

That said......we had wonderful sex this afternoon. My ass presented like a bitch in heat. Him fucking me hard and painfully. He spanked me until I lost count. My ass was on fire and I wanted more. Tonight, when children are abed and the lights are out, I am going to have him give me a marathon spanking session.

Because we love each other.

Bread and Soup and Sleepless Toddlers - the Wife

2008-09-27T01:41:00.000-07:00

Hubby and I had a discussion today, concerning his propensity to like the same thing....over and over and over until he is sick of it. He does this in many aspects of life. Example: when he makes a lasagna, he is content to eat only lasagna until the entire pan is finished. Lasagna for breakfast, lunch and dinner. He mentioned trying harder to add a little turkey tetrazzini as a change of pace. He tends to do this sexually too. If it feels good, keep doing it. Keep trying to recapture that feeling, but better.

That just never works.

I gently suggested that, sometimes after having had spicy complex meals, a little bread and soup is nice too. It doesn't always have to be spicy.

So tonight, we tried a little bread and soup.

We started off with some nice kissing. Lots of smiling and loving touches. He was rubbing my pussy through my panties in just such a way that felt good and vaguely reminiscent of gropes in the backseats of cars that I remember fondly from my youth. And then, in spite of the VERY late hour....the toddler woke up.

Pat pat pat, try to get the toddler back to sleep. She drifts. We try again. This time, he very lovingly and tenderly begins to lick my pussy. I made sure to get an extra close shave in hopes that hubby would be going down on me tonight. His hot wet tongue just seemed to draw the cream out of me. Then, he began to finger fuck me. He worked against my g-spot and had me writhing on the bed. And then, in spite of having been recently patted back to sleep....yes, the toddler woke up again.

This time, hubby patted her back to sleep. And when he was done, I saw his sexy ass lying there just begging to be kissed. And licked. And so I did. It was his turn to writhe on the bed while I rimmed his ass with my tongue. Again, keeping it very gentle and tender. He pressed upward toward my mouth while I lovingly ministered to his quivering flesh. And then, in spite of it being even later than before, and in spite of having once again been patted to sleep...yes, the @#$!! toddler woke up again.

My turn to pat. And so I did. Got her back to sleep. By this time, hubby was barely at 1/4 mast. And all thoughts of gentle tenderness were shot to Hell. It was time for the kink. Hubby began some of the most deviant and perverse dirty talk we have ever engaged in. Aroused beyond measure and dripping wet from the filth pouring from his mouth, I eagerly joined in......begging him to degrade me in ways that are probably illegal in some countries. This dirty talk raised him from 1/4 mast to rock hard as he fucked my wet and willing hole. It was enough....yes just enough...to push him over the edge as he came violently into me.

So, here we are....done for the night. And yes......the toddler is awake with us. I have given up for the night.

Triple Threat - The Wife

2008-09-27T01:40:00.001-07:00

[Photo]How bad am I? My husband was busy uploading some of our kinky pictures to this blog. Seeing all of those pictures, and rereading about our recent exploits got me really horny. Hubby and I had already fucked this morning, (after I had awakened to him rocking the bed with the force of his masturbation), but it had been interrupted by the awakening of our toddler. So, even though I had cum earlier, I really wanted to cum again. I reached to my nightstand and grabbed Mr Wiggles. Felt really good. Hubby took one look at me and started stroking himself. I felt in the mood for a little penetration, so I had hubby grab one of our non-working (battery lid is lost on most of ours) dildo's. I inserted it and started fucking. I was so wet that the dildo slid easily, in and out of my hot cunt. Faster went the dildo...and my breathing. This really got hubby's attention. He raised himself above me and dropped his hard cock into my mouth. I sucked for a bit, but I really wanted more penetration. I had him hand me another, slimmer, dildo. He lubed it up, and worked it into my ass.

WOW!!!! While he worked me with both dildo's, I worked my clit with Wiggles. Very very nice indeed!!!! Then, he pulled the dildo out of my ass and tried to put himself in. However, I was so wet, that he (unbeknownst to him) slid into my pussy. He wondered about the ease with which he slid into my ass, and I just didn't have the heart to tell him he was buried in my cunt. In spite of having just masturbated himself to orgasm while I made breakfast, he still managed to cum in short order.

Note: He's getting better about masturbating. I had to laugh though at his "deer in the headlights" look this morning when he realized I had caught him tossing one off. Very sweet!!

Now, there is a house to clean and children to care for. Sex will have to wait. Not too long though.

Riding the Vibe - The Wife

2008-09-27T01:39:00.001-07:00

No, it isn't what you think. I am sick, and my lower back was really killing me. So I got out this giant deluxe massager we have (given by my Aunt), and applied it to my back. Hubby took pity on me and helped me out. Too bad that this machine is about to be reengineered as a sybian. It works great for backaches.

A Day of Kink, Part One - The Wife

2008-09-27T01:38:00.001-07:00

I have been making an effort to be more welcoming of sexual advances in the morning. In the past, I could never get past my fear of blowing morning breath into the Hubby's face. Lately though, it's been a nice way to begin the day.

We woke up and were just lying in bed, enjoying the fact that neither of us had to get up and be anywhere. Hubby rolled over for a back rub. I obliged. And then he returned the favor.

Sort of.

Hubby began with gentle fingers, opening me up and rubbing insistently against my tender flesh. I moaned appreciatively while arching my back up so that my pussy rose to meet his fingers. Before long, he had two in me. We recently watched a home movie that had been posted online wherein a man shows how to cause a woman to "squirt" each and every time. Hubby seemed to be using this technique, two fingers inside of a woman, and then lift...fast, hard, repeatedly. It felt really wonderful. However, this is my one sexual failing. I don't/can't squirt. I have tried all of the recommended methods. It just doesn't happen. But as I said, it still feels wonderful.

Hubby then inserted another finger. And another. I felt like a sexual puppet. I also felt deliciously languorous from my multiple and intense orgasms. I could feel my own cum as it dripped out of me and onto the bed underneath. Hubby said that he thought I was squirting on his fingers.

And then, we were interrupted. The odd thing about the 10 year old coming in the room is that she is the LEAST likely to be cheery in the morning. This one is moody. Very moody. Anyway, in she walks, asking to go to a friends house. Hubby and I both say OK OK..Now go on. 10 year old decides to come in and give Hubby and I each an individual cheerful "Good Morning". While I appreciate the greeting, I have to wonder: Where the Hell did that come from?

Back to the business at hand. Literally.

Hubby's hand felt good inside of me. Apparently, my pussy liked it a lot. So much so, that in a rare move...my pussy stretched. And Hubby managed to go deeper into me than he ever had with his fist. All the way in, up to his wrist. It hurt. I came immediately. And according to Hubby, I was very definitely squirting. I could tell. My cream was dripping past his wrist and slathering the insides of my thighs. Faster and harder, stopping only to get our cameras. This is what it looked like:
[Photo] When it got to be all I could take, hubby pulled out and replaced his fist with his dick. Unfortunately, my body was done for the time being. I asked Hubby to pull out, and then jumped backwards off of him myself.

Hubby had me on my knees in a heartbeat, servicing his manhood with my eager mouth. I licked, sucked, tongued and tried everything to coax a libation of his cum into my mouth. But, my torn lip just couldn't withstand the onslaught of his dick.

Hubby still hadn't had the opportunity to cum, so he took matters into his own hands. He grabbed his thick hard shaft and in a rare moment of sexual open-mindedness, he started to masturbate in front of me. Women, have you ever watched your man stroke his cock? I don't mean the fast furtive gropings you may have seen in your youth from young boyfriends or that done in a back alley by a skeevy dude in a trench coat. No, I mean a real man touching his real cock.

Hubby rubbed and stroked. I watched in slack-jawed lust as his cock seemed to get thicker and harder. I watched as his balls did that "tighten up 'cuz it's almost there" movement up toward his body. I saw the glisten of his precum and reached out to touch it with my finger, licking the yummy treat off the tip of my finger. Hubby shared a lick. I then decided to lick a little. Hubby kept stroking and jerking as I filled his ears with the hotness of what he was doing. To my delight, he came. Hot white cum spurting from his hard cock!!........I am getting wet just thinking about it.

And thus ended the first round of kink for today.

A Day of Kink, Part Two - The Wife

2008-09-27T01:37:00.001-07:00

Her "BDSM Lite" post coming soon...its in editing.

The problem with posting several days after a sexual encounter is, that even with a memorable experience....you still forget stuff.

Here is what I DO remember:

spanking.
HARD SWAT.
pictures.
getting fucked.
he came.....I don't remember where.
I came, but that goes without saying.

Mostly, I remember laughing. After the really hard swat, I fell over with a tear running down my face and laughing hysterically. Hubby tried to stay "in character", but in the middle of a very Dom sentence, he broke up too.

That is what good sex is all about. The most memorable thing we did was laugh together. That is what takes sex to the next level. The intimacy of being able to laugh about it.

Spanking Good Time - The Wife

2008-09-27T01:36:00.001-07:00

Sometimes, I wonder if I shouldn't be concerned about possibly latent feelings of violence in my Hubby. He never demurs or refuses when I want to be spanked. Rather, he jumps in with an abandon that begs a psych evaluation.

For that matter, what does it say about me that there are times when I just really need a spanking. I wiggle my ass in front of him, begging for a little correction.

Last night was one of those times.

I was lying in bed, after taking a shower. Hubby had just finished his shower too. We were relaxing together, him with his fingers inside me, when I felt the need. I presented to him and he obliged. At first, tentatively, he laid his hand across my ass. Not enough I thought, and begged him for harder. He obliged.....all the while listening for possible stirrings from the children. Even with the door shut and locked, we still worry that the kids will bang on the door and ask if everything is all right. The sound of, SMACK SMACK SMACK, echoes through our house with it's paper thin walls. We need to soundproof the closet.

Hubby decided to go for the belt. Mmmmmm, whippy!!!! He resumed the spankings, but as he had approached me he had a firm grasp on his cock. I asked him to hold himself as he spanked me. I watched as he gripped his shaft with one hand and the belt, held in the other hand, came down hard on my tender flesh. It was very hot. Makes me want to take a spanking from a third party whilst Hubby strokes off in front of me.

After an abortive attempt to corral my breasts into a noose made by the belt, we fucked. He mentioned having an 18 year old girl on deck to watch us on the webcam. I didn't believe him. But, it did give us fodder for some good ear sex while he pounded away at my cunt. A good time was had by all.

And in bed, afterward when our hearts had stopped pounding, I asked Hubby if he really did have an 18 year old on deck. Apparently, he had!!! Hmmmmmm, who knows what this will lead to???

Nirvana - The Wife

2008-09-27T01:34:00.002-07:00

Last night, I received the most incredible cunnilingus. It was good enough that I decided I could willingly give up cock if I could experience cunnilingus like that each time.....

Well, maybe not. but it was REALLY good.

Hubby performed orally for at least half of the ninety minutes we spent having sex last night. At least half. I was a writhing, moaning, back arching, sodden, limp mess afterward. At one point, he found my sweet spot (for new readers...no it's not my clit but rather a small bunch of nerves next to my clit which when rubbed the right way sends me into paroxysms of orgasmic splendor). He also managed, with his tongue, to hit the same frequency as Mr Wiggles. I lay there, not moving lest he lose either the rhythm or the spot. My only encouragement were my throaty pleas that he not stop....don't stop....right there....yes.....yes....YES....YES......YESSSSS.

Afterward, I was incoherent and dazed. I have vague memories of him threatening to do other things to my body. I didn't care. I had reached Nirvana.

Mr Wiggles - The Wife

2008-09-27T01:34:00.001-07:00

I just spent a delightful 30 minutes with my friend, Mr Wiggles. He is the best vibrator a girl ever had. Here is his story:

About a year ago, or maybe it was 2, my husband brought home a "spa in a box" collection from Walmart. It consisted of a cooling sleep mask, a headset that played nature sounds, and a little muscle massager. I didn't need another vibrator, so I put it aside.

Cut to roughly six months ago, when during a cleaning the bedroom session I found the long lost and forgotten spa in a box vibrator. I'm not sure what motivated me to turn it on (thankfully the batteries were still good), but I did. I placed the vibrating nubs hard against my clit.

And nearly cum myself dry immediately.

[Photo]This little vibrator is incredible. It operates on just the right frequency. I spread my pussy lips wide, after first licking my fingers and stroking my clit. I place wiggles on my exposed clit and press down. The vibrations stimulate my entire pussy. It is just my best little friend.

[Photo]And sometimes....just sometimes....I find what I call the "sweet spot" . I can't always find it, which is ok because I still cum from the vibrations. But when I do find the sweet spot, it is sheer ecstasy. I feel my clit throb. I feel as if my cunt is flowing hot lava. I call it "riding the wave", because if I can just hold Mr Wiggles in the same spot, without giving in to the urge to move and buck, I have an orgasm that is the most incredible orgasm ever experienced. I can't even describe it, so you will just have to believe me that it is the best.

Afterward, I can feel the pulsating of my flesh. It radiates and my whole body feels tingly and throbbing. Unfortunately, I can't usually do it more than once in awhile.

Until tonight. I just found the sweet spot twice in a 30 minute period. Just what I needed after a stressful day!

Not Tonight Dear, I Have a Headache - The Wife

2008-09-27T01:33:00.001-07:00

It's not often that it's the husband who comes down with the headache and an inopportune time. But, today, it happened to us. We were having our "after church nap". Which of course means we were fucking. All was going well, we were enjoying a nice leisurely romp, when hubby's face screwed up in pain. Mine nearly screwed up too from the pain of having him stop mid coitus. Being the concerned and loving wife that I am though, I put my own discomfort aside and concentrated on his pain instead. I asked him if he wanted to stop. He said no, he just needed to keep his head still.

Which begs the question, "Which head do you need to keep still?". Because each time he stopped from stabbing pain....well, he stopped. It's really hard for someone, even someone as easily orgasmic as I am, to reach orgasm when the action keeps stopping. He soldiered on.....

until the toddler woke up. Thus ended the afternoon "nap".

Fortunately, I stayed primed and ready for fucking. After getting all of the children to bed we got our showers. Hubby took the time that I was showering (and shaving....I don't like to appear for sex without a shaved pussy) to dress up as Julia Roberts in Pretty Woman. We haven't really discussed it too much here, due to it not being the point of this blog, but hubby is a crossdresser. He is all man, and decidedly heterosexual. He just likes to explore his femme side. And, since I am a closeted bisexual, it all works out for the best. You see, I am attracted to women, but I am totally unwilling to give up cock. This way, I can have both.

Where was I, ah yes...Julia Roberts. I'm not actually all that attracted to her, but that's ok. I knelt between his legs, and nuzzled at his panties. His cock was firmly tucked back, so there wasn't anything to make me think "man". His scrotum was peeking out from each side of the panties, looking remarkably similar to pussy lips. I licked each side with all of the tenderness I would lavish on a woman. I licked his panties until they were wet. Looking up into his eyes, I asked him to touch himself, just as he asks me. He began rubbing inside of his panties. I asked him to throw his head back, just as I do. It really turned me on to see this hot blond slut with her head thrown back rubbing frantically at her slit. I decided, I needed to get some.

I climbed up and over him, until my pussy (in the same crotchless panties that I wore on our wedding day) was over his mouth. I lowered myself onto his open mouth and began to grind. He started sucking at my flesh. My hands on the wall behind us, I thrust and ground rapidly seeking my orgasm. I didn't have long to wait.

After cumming, I decided it was time for the cock to make an appearance. I turned my body around into the 69 position, and released his hard shaft from it's tucked position. It immediately sprang up, erect...hard..delicious. Yes, delicious. I love the way my hubby's cock tastes. I started gobbling. While I was busy sucking him off, he was busy eating my pussy. For every downward thrust of my mouth, he shoved his mouth hard onto my wet pussy. I was getting distracted from my goal, a mouthful of cum. So I started deep throating him. It's much easier to deep throat while sitting on his chest than it is to do so from between his legs or on my knees. I was able to take him down into my throat and start fucking him with my tonsils. His groans and stiffened legs told me what I needed to hear. He liked it.

Changing my tactics, and deciding that I wanted his cock in my cunt rather than my throat, I pulled away from him and dropped lower. I wanted to try having me on top, but instead of facing his head....I wanted to try facing his feet. I slipped onto him with my wet sheath and started short fast movements of my hips. Hmmmmm, felt good. I leaned down lower and sucked on his toes while I moved my hips. Felt really good. Faster I went, driving on toward orgasm. I got there. I thought he did too. I climbed off.

But he hadn't cum yet. Just a little dry orgasm. So I climbed back on.

And he did the one thing guaranteed to push me over the edge. He started to finger my ass. I came immediately. But, he didn't stop. While I was fucking him and sucking his toes, he was fingering my ass. It's the closest I have ever come to having a man in each of my holes. It was incredible!!!!

Needing a little face to face action, I turned around. He grabbed my hips and started pumping from beneath me. I was so wet, I can't believe he didn't slide out. I leaned down and started to share my fantasy with him. About how I wanted him to go to a shoe store en femme. I wanted him to have a salesgirl help him try on shoes. and while she was kneeling in front of him, I wanted him to stroke her pussy with his feet. Somehow, from there, we managed to bring the fantasy into a hotel room. The salesgirl, lying on the bed, my face buried deep in her pussy. She was moaning and squirming from my attention. Just when she was about to cum, I turned her over onto her stomach, spread her hot full ass apart, and started to tongue fuck her up the ass. Hubby didn't make it beyond that description.

Wonder how long he would make it if I actually did it?

That Look - The Wife

2008-09-27T01:32:00.001-07:00

Sometimes, Hubby gets a look in his eyes. It's depraved, dangerous, and oh so exciting. Tonight, as Hubby came down the stairs, he had that look in his eyes. I knew I was in trouble tonight.

After he stripped me of my pants and underwear, with the kids in the next room, and attired me for easier access. (I should never take my Sunday skirts off, he prefers access. And yes, believe it or not, I go to church every Sunday). The gentle whisper of his voice spoke volumes. He gets quieter when he is out there. His hissed commands were barely discernible. I made certain to listen closely to his commands.

And then, I did the unthinkable. I pulled away because I needed to use the bathroom. It wasn't my fault. I had been engrossed in my vanilla hobby and hadn't reached a stopping point when he came up behind me. I rushed upstairs to relieve myself. He followed me into the room.

On the bed and on your knees he commanded. As we discussed logistics and the amount of time the children might be expected to leave us alone, any plans for heavy bondage were discarded. And in fact, the children did knock at the door just once.....to ask me if I was watching 'King of the Hill'. I assured the child that while I wasn't watching, I had seen this episode previously. We were left alone after that

Now, back to the kink.

After a little warm-up play, Hubby began doing my favorite kind of spankings. The medium hard, rapid fire, smacks that warm my ass and make it tingle. I was wiggling with enjoyment, until Hubby whispered in my ear. He let me know, in no uncertain terms, that it was my pain that made his cock hard. I knew, this was going to hurt. And it did. He rained smacks and slaps and then the belt all over my ass, stopping long enough to take pictures and to praise me for the good job I was doing. He fucked me so hard and deep that it was excruciating. And wonderful. I had to bite the blankets to muffle my screams of pain and pleasure. One round of spankings alone gave me such an incredibly good orgasm. I feel perverse for feeling that, saying it, doing it. But, that's good....isn't it?

He forced my mouth on to his cock. Usually, I control the fellatio. This time, I was just a hole. He grabbed my hair and fucked my face. It took all my effort just to keep my teeth out of the way. This had nothing to do with the art of oral pleasure that I exercise on his willing body. This was a Master taking what he wanted without regard for my comfort or needs.

I loved it!

He forced me onto my back and began fucking me again. All the while telling me that he was in control, me echoing him. He controls me. He allows me to cum or not. He takes what he wants.

I knew the look meant trouble.

Public Sex - The Wife

2008-09-27T01:31:00.001-07:00

Here is my take on today's activities. When we found that we would have to wait 45 minutes before a previously planned outing could take place, and it was awfully hot outside today, we decided to find something to do during the interim.

My first thought, public sex.

Off we went to our van. We drove off into the boondocks, or at least what used to be the boondocks. In the couple of years since the husband and I had a little outdoor nookie, houses have sprung up everywhere. That made finding someplace to park a little difficult. I decided that a driving blow job was a good idea. So, I started moving things from the console so that I could slide over. Getting his shorts off was a little difficult, given that they were women's shorts and zipped on the side (naturally on the side opposite from me). After a minor struggle, they were down, and so was I.

He was driving the car, and I was driving my mouth. Up and down on his cock. Every so often, he would put his hand on my head and warn me to stay down because a tall vehicle was coming. Well, I thought that was the point of public sex!!! However, I didn't feel the need to bare all to each and every stranger we passed, so I stayed down. Then he got this brilliant idea to just keep going around and around in a round about. Great idea, except that it is hard to keep a cock in ones mouth while one is sliding toward the door of the van and trying not to fly off due to the speed with which we were turning in said round about. Well, enough of that until we could find a place to park.

Still unable to find a place, we decided to stop smack dab on the side of the road next to another van. It was empty (we assumed hikers) and with our van backed in, hubby could stand in the open doorway to service me while still looking casual if someone came up. So, we began again.

Another round of cock sucking, just to get him back in the mood. Then, I laid flat and unseen across the front seats. He stood outside and began to fuck me. Really hard. Really good. Pound, pound, pump, pump he went, with me gasping and begging him in an ever louder voice to "fuck me fuck me!!". Suddenly, he went rigid....and it wasn't from an orgasm! Get dressed he hissed!! Someone was WALKING UP TO OUR VAN!!!! I grabbed something from the backseat and threw it over myself while he jerked his shorts up and walked to the other side. The older man, apparently owner of the van we had parked next to, took one look at what was going on and got in his van to leave. But, not before we burned rubber getting the hell out of there and laughing our asses off.

Not since high school have I been caught like this....with my man's bare pumping ass in plain sight to others. While being remarkably embarrassing, it was also a lot of fun.

Well, off to find another place to finish. We turned up into a reserve area. Again I had my mouth on his cock, cleaning my juices off for him. Again he hissed at me to get up, as he made sure his seat belt was fastened. I looked up in time to see that we were rapidly approaching a multi police vehicle bust with 3 guys cuffed on the side of the road. Well, fantastic!!! How the Hell was I going to get laid??? I was so horny that I started rubbing my pussy frantically to get a little relief. After an aborted attempt to pull into a state park (we didn't have our parking pass and it was a little crowded), we finally found a service road that prohibited trespassing to drive up.

Yes, we trespassed.

We found a place to park. A little pull off that was behind a bush, and right across from a shooting range!!!, Out of the van my husband went again. Out came his cock, and down I went again. Once he was ready, I slipped my shorts off, climbed out of the van, bent over the seat, and presented. He was in my like a flash. He wasn't being gentle, but fortunately, I was dripping wet from our little adventure. He started fucking me, even harder than before. It hurt, but in a good way. Without any worry that we might be overheard, I gave in to a long denied desire to scream while being fucked. It felt so good, him pounding into me. He was fucking me so hard, my knees were being smacked painfully into the running board on our van. Harder, faster fucking. I was cumming all over myself. He pulled out, and shoved his cock up my ass.

Which was, apparently sore from last night!!! Thus ended our sex play.

No, it didn't end with glorious orgasms (although I did have some pretty damn good ones), but it was fun to get out and play a little. It also made me appreciate our big comfy king sized bed all the more!!!!

Tonight, we can finish what we started.

Trying to be Kink-Free - The Wife

2008-09-27T01:30:00.000-07:00

And now, my take on last night (having not read the husband's post, to ensure that my thoughts here aren't influenced by his).

I was feeling the need for some gentleness last night. I thought it would be nice to have a marital love-making session rather than a free for all of kink, pain and dirty "fuck me" talk. I expressed my desire to the husband, while also expressing my concern that plain old married sex just wouldn't get us off anymore.

As we began, with light touches and kissing, things seemed to be going well. I was enjoying myself. I assume he was enjoying himself.

And then he pushed me over the edge.

As he was fucking my wet hot cunt from behind, he stroked my back. That felt so good, but what really felt good was when he had placed his finger at the top of my ass crack before stroking upward. He did it again, from the same position. This left me without any doubt about what I really wanted now (and which he had been threatening me with all week and hadn't followed through on). I wanted a nice ass-fucking. When he positioned his hand to stroke me again, I begged him to go lower. He did, running his finger up my ass crack. I shivered with anticipation. He knew without my telling him what I wanted. Slowly, he inserted a finger in my ass. The friction of his finger combined with the hard cock in my pussy made me cum almost immediately. He continued to piston me with finger and cock. I couldn't stop cumming. Then, he added another finger, really opening me up. I squirmed to take him in deeper, in both holes. Feeling how wet I had gotten, I knew it was time.

I pulled away from him, and presented my ass for fucking. I was so wet and ready, that he slid right in. He told me to squeeze as much of my hand into my own cunt so that he could feel my fingers next to his cock. The position was awkward, but I managed to get a few fingers in and pumped myself with them, knowing that I was stroking him at the same time. I had my own cream all over myself. But, I wanted him deeper.

We slowly rolled from our sides to a position with me face down, and him on top of me. He worked himself high up on my ass. He was so deep in me, that I was afraid for a minute that he might damage me. But, the pleasure I was feeling in this position was so overwhelmingly good, that I didn't care. He was up so high on top of my ass, that there was no contact with any part of my pussy. This was a true ass-fucking with no pussy stimulation at all. Only a true ass-fuck whore would cum when it was only her ass getting reamed or touched.

Apparently, I am a true ass-fuck whore.

I was moaning and squirming as he drove in and out of me. I knew that I was making a big cum stained mess on the bed under me. I was a little embarrassed to be enjoying this so much. On he went, in and out and in and out. Fucking me harder than he had ever dared to fuck my asshole. I felt him thrust hard one final time as we came together (not a rarity for us since I cum if a breeze blows).

This is one position, I want to use again. And soon

Blog Worthy

2008-09-11T17:36:00.000-07:00

The other night, sans candles, me exhausted from work, her just on the mend from a cold, me just starting said could, we did IT.

We tried to do it by moonlight but it was overcast.

No visuals, just textures, touch, scent and taste.

Nice time, but not remarkedly so I thought.

Midst fuck, some activity or another (I forget what) made her giggle.

"Well" she said, "that was certainly blog-worthy!"

I don't remember what prompted it and wasn't sure exactly what sort of a post that would inspire.

What I liked was that it gave me hope that she has the long neglected blog in mind at least.

I have sort of felt like a fiction blogger here as of late with-out my other half giving her impression of events. I seem to have no balance to my check.

"I'll wake you up early...and blow you..."

2008-08-31T09:59:00.000-07:00

..she said brightly. "I'm already late for church." She added, by way of explaination without a trace of irony. I am SO looking forward to spurting onto her Sunday-go-to-meeting hair-do. (Is that wrong?)

Digging into a box I had brought in last night she came up with a pair of medium heeled, pointy toed, black sling backs.

"How are these?" she asked as I pondered the mix of shoes in the box, hers, his and 'hirs'..

"Great!" I pronounced, "but, a little slutty for _________" (her hometown, population probably less than 3,000)

"Thats the idea," she smiled, "someone's got to bring this town into the 21st century, and they aren't quite stripper shoes yet."

I am pretty tired. (I am always pretty tired.)

I bummed a ride back to home #1 last Thursday morning after night shift. I slept a while then surveyed my transportation situation. So far I had two cars at home #2 and the object is to get all 8-9 1/2 cars there eventually. I had selected the mid 60's wagon and matching bug for this run.

I had packed my work bag with the title in case I left straight from work. Instead I went home for a quick shower and a couple of interrupted 1/2 hour naps. *And no, not that kind of interruption."

As I groggily stumbled to the door when my ride showed up, she suggested I take a cooler rather than the soft side multi-pocket work bag cum lunch bucket. Partway to my destination I remember the title.

NO worries I think $8 for an lost title fee is cheaper than gas to go back. I get to house #1 and sleep a while after making vague inquiries into the schedules of the now 4 late teen slackers living in my house. (The plan is to charge them some rent if I ever actually get the house emptied out.)

The one whose work / sleep schedule seems compatible with my plans seemed a good prospect for a ride to the motor vehicle division. Turns out he slept in, then left abruptly. Not wanting to impose on my renters (read squatters), I called a buddy I havent seen in nearly a year to come pick me up.

First trip, they look up my name and of the 6 cars they have a record of, Big Buford as I like to call him isnt on the list. I call my wife for the VIN to see if it was missfiled. She has left our little turn of the century farmhouse for the big city. I am short with her, thinking she was expending gas for yet another trip just 2 days after her last one. I was rather rude and abrupt and had to apologise, (poorly) later.

Second trip with a rubbing of the VIN plate in hand, I hear over the loudspeakers that titles cannot be printed because the "computers are down." No eta for recovery. Nice.

They were able to look up Vin's though and all that told us was that the car has been purged from the system. They say I need an abandoned title. (I explain I HAVE a hard copy of the title just not with me.)

I send my wife 30 minutes north to a medium sized town with an MVD office. She gets there just under the wire before closing time. Computers still down. Redundancy anyone????"

In frustration I resolve to flaut the law. (the last time I got caught doing that it spiraled into a $3,000 incident and loss of license for what turned out to be 4 years plus. I don't care.

I go home frustrated and still exhausted from lack of sleep and sleep fitfully till the next day. I then go about getting mobile. None of the cars around the place are ready to go, so I load up three batteries and one flat tire (my compressor is down, and my tools to fix it are at house #2 along wit my battery charger) onto a garden cart and walk 3/4 of a mile to get the battery charged and the tire aired up. I then walk home, take another nap. I get up go back and find I have to buy a new battery anyway.

I get the spanking new battery installed (crossing the polarity in the process, big oops!) NOTHING. in frustration I call my wife to come get me (4 hour drive each way.) Son points out it ran the other day when he put a different battery in it,. So I borrow the battery that did take a charge and sure enough she runs! I go back to the store where they puzzle over a brand new battery putting out .3 volts untill they notice neither I nor they in testing it have removed the protective plastic terminal cover. OOPS! ~chagrined~ I call back. "Never mind get the kids back out of the van...."

SO I pack the wagon and the bug separately, go to the hardware store get bolts to secure the tow bar, to the airport (past stern "Authorized Personnel Only" - without a valid license plate). I must have looked like an authorized individual because no one says boo to me as I glide up in my very much land-bound jumbo-liner and fill up on 100 octane low lead avgas. She purred in appreciation. Incidentally, on the way back home I pulled a light next to a brand new dodge, so called Hemi charger. (Not the legendary 426 Hemi of course.) They held on with me for 1st gear, only because I have highway gears in the differential. I smoked them after that in a cloud of blue smoke, unburned avgas spitting flames out the factory dual exhaust. -Note to self- Pick up some 4.11 gears and a roots blower.

SO anyway, packed and ready to go, I go to mate the two vehicles only to discover that Buford has no ball in his receiver hitch. Off to Mart du Wahl and lucky thing its a standard receiver and all is well again.

I roar off into the night at just before midnight on a heavy enforcement DUI weekend. Including State, Counties various cities and towns, and tribal entities I calculate that I will pass through the jurisdictions of over 20 law enforcement divisions. In the past year I have been pulled over for one thing or another at least 8 times. The score there is two tickets, numerous warnings and repair orders and one chase that I won near the border.

I breathe in and rub into my eyes fiberglass from the missing headliner. This doesn't help visibility. It starts to rain. My power windows are currently down and disconnected. My wipers...hmm...yep work, nope blades are bad...oops they won't turn off now that I hit a dry patch....stop cut the wire.

I run out of gas on the reservation. I siphon a gallon out of the bug..I run out again. I siphon the last 1/3 of a gallon out of the bug, make it to a gas station.

I stagger into home #2 at a little after 4:00am and shower. I attempt to fumble into bed without waking the Fellatio Artist, only to find a child in the bed. I evict said child and fall asleep clutching a couch pillow as I left my pillow at house #1...

All in all a lot of work for some boxes better left in a house fire, except the several dozen pairs of kinky shoes.

With barely a whimper... The Geek

2008-08-23T14:17:00.000-07:00

..the fifty-thousandth visitor came and left. If he/she/they were typical, they stayed for 2.33 minutes scanning the content of, on average 2.1 pages. It didn't go un-noticed. I look at stats from time to time and especially where visitors come from.

Interestingly many come from my wife's semi-defunct sexy blog. I mentioned this to her the other day and she said she had thought of going black there as she doesn't use it now that we are in the same town again at last, and is a bit uncomfortable with being spank-bank material to the thousands of unseen visitors there.

Many come from search engines, with "cum lips" and Felatio being hot vibrating buzzwords. A picture of my bald head juxtaposed on her bald cunt seems to generate a lot of interest from Goggle images.

As I flit back and forth from blurfing interesting stuff, and replacing the cover page I use to mask what I'm reading from the kids walking through.

Not a lot of privacy in a 1,000 square foot turn-of-the century ramshackle farmhouse. Especially for 6 people used to a 5 bedroom 2,300 foot house with a wireless router two laptops, a couple of desktops, cable tv on one of several tv's and all other manner of distraction.

Not a lot of time when work takes me 15 hours and 15 minutes a day from my door to back home daily for 12-13 out of every 14 days.

Musing, that I have time for. Lots of time.

Alone in my cab, squawk of two-way radio droning on interminably with a couple hundred people on 2 main channels, no place to get a word in, when I do, its too polysyllabic for local tastes. $15 Panasonic cassette decks are treasured on the rare occasion that an antennae is mounted properly to receive one or more of 4 radio stations within range. Much more desirable than the Sirius radios that work not at all over 1/3 of the time, and poorly when they do work in radio mode 1/3 of the time. An actual working, satellite radio (when your equipment is facing in the general direction of the satellite) seems but a cruel joke as those pieces of equipment are inevitable snatched from you , usually mid shift often to trade out an operator in a rolling sweat lodge, where penny-wise and basic logistics understanding management would rather spend an hour a day trading operators than stop the equipment for 20 minutes to add some R-134.

I think of clever turns of phrase, topical ideas and have epiphanies, unnoticed my anyone and unremembered by me as I fall exhausted into bed again.

Excuses, really.

Fear, then.

Afraid I/we have said it all. (Then why the constant voices in my head?)

Afraid that she isn't that into the blog, or has regrets or anxiety about discovery after returning to the small town of her roots. No anonymity here.

Afraid that the next great sex-capade wont' be "blog-worthy". (Nonsense, of course. Sex with this woman is amazing, always. Yes its still new and fresh after 16+ years. Besides, its all fodder for those of you reading with hand encircling turgid shaft, or wrist pressed near warm upper thighs.)

You know the saying, dance like no one is watching? Apt. I never blogged or, really wrote anything of y thoughts because I felt the need to be complete. Avoid fragments. Be cohesive.

I learned to write for the sheer joy of leaving the thoughts of an unquiet mind lay, so others could be afforded breathing space. The practice pad for that was what I like to refer to as my tranny blog. In short I suddenly had a long repressed urge to do the whole J. Edgar Hoover thing without a wife rather than a trusted close male companion/ cum secretary a year or so ago and was (am) a bit confused and conflicted about the whole thing. 50,000 words later I have penned no answers of merit but feel at peace with my femme side, if a bit disjointed. My two sides co-exist with barely a wave to each-other in a fugue state, so the two blogs never meet. Often one is updated and the other not. Barbara is sorely neglected in my rough-and tumble, nail-tearing job. Perfectionism and the horror of looking like a middle aged tranny (if the sling-back fits, and looks cute....)keep me from visiting that side lately.

In my surfing I went from Janie Bloom's blog to FetLife and found, I thought, a place for Barbara to 'come out' not as a dude in a dress, but sexually speaking as she seems oddly (to me) asexual really. I opened a profile for her, but did little else. I enjoy surfing others profiles from my lousy phone interface from work, but have done nothing to speak of for hers. The random comments I occasionally post there have no context.

I added a couple of pics there (tame) lifted from my blog, and had in mind a framework to explain who I am, but got stuck. Also the kids walking through did little to ease my discomfort.

I thought about temporarily linking either of the other two blogs to give a more rounded picture, but kind of prefer the walls remain.

I think a few of the 12 or so regular readers here are aware of the others, but perhaps some are not. Thoughtful readers are welcome to the url's though I have to agree with my wife that "Jane's" Blog is much more spankable than "Barbara's".

Buried in a previous post, unnoticed by all but two or three visitors, ever, is contact information for us. I give it here for any that want the url and have actually read far enough here to notice. To wit: Peep in our window (remove spaces - runitalltogether) then the at sign (@) yahoo then dot com.

Ah, that felt better to get some of those extraneous, probably unnecessarily and ironically redundant, asides and commas out of my system.

Mutual Humping - The Husband

2008-07-14T04:55:00.000-07:00

I was in a bit of a grumpy mood, and sleepy enough to actually contemplate forgoing sex all-together. ~shocked~

The wife scratched my back a little assuaging my ridiculous and out-of-place irritability. I began to return the favor but found my hands wandering. Like they do.

I was still on my tummy, which for me is my proffered sexual position for solo work. As i stroked and fingered and delighted in her writhing, I found I was grinding against the matress and then one hand under me. Like I do.

So I moved her hand under me as well, to make up for the hand I was missing probing her.

I had an idea.

"Roll over..", I breathed in her ear.

"Huh?" she responded party sleepily, part from that place she goes on the edge of an other orgasm.

She awkwardly turned and tried to present, unsure of my instruction but complying none-the-less.

Wren I had her prone, I reached under, imagining that this must be what it is like for a woman to lay on her hand and hump.

It was hot. she bucked and writhed. She was naked. I, still partially clothed. I aligned my cock with her ass and let it grind there as she humped and wriggled and moaned.

I decided she would be a lot more comfortable with my cock in her ass. As I posited this, she was enthusiastic ly affirmative amidst the sounds she was stifling. I made her articulate it. because its hot to hear her say it.

"Fuck me up the ass."

I moved and positioned and probed and pressed. The angle awkward. Then in it slipped with surprising ease.

"Soong Wah!" she announced. Which roughly translated we use to mean "Wrong hole." Usually meaning I have jammed up against her dark passage, but in this case in context (which I didn't realize for a moment) it meant I had not achieved my goal of plowing a furrow into her ass.

"You are becoming quite and anal slut too, lately aren't you?" I hissed

"Well yes", she said, "but you are in my cunt."

Smiling, I thought that why that seemed familiar..I pulled out and she presented at a better angle and with surprising ease, I eased it in.

The angle was still awkward so she pulled off and rolled over and put her knees up...much better.

"Choke me", she said.

I wrapped both hands gently, but firmly, around her neck and not so much choked as used her neck for leverage as I fucked her. Hard, fast and deep.

It's nice to be vocal about ones desires. The Geek

2008-07-12T05:10:00.000-07:00

In the distant past, my lovely wife would mention as a kind of an aside that she had been in the mood the night before or that she had waited up for me. This information inevitably reached me, (obviously), too late, as I've not quite perfected time travel.

Lately she has been much more willing to be assertive. Like when I am actually already asleep.

Our little slice of country-fied paradise is a pretty long commute for me. Much closer than the 200 mile commute I had, mind you. Still, I get up at 4:30 am and get home at 8:30 pm. Also in the all work and no play department I worked 310 last month so sleep is at a premium.

Never-the-less, despite having rogered her senseless the other night and rolled over and gone to sleep, she woke me two hours later having taken things into her own hands (well her mouth technically) getting started through the pleasant haze of what seemed to begin for me as an erotic dream.

Finally, A keyboard and a browser that doesn't suck...

2008-07-12T05:02:00.000-07:00

I've been surfing using my state of the art (from three years ago) phone. It features what I found out to be an obsolete platform (Openwave). It deserves to be obsolete. I found out it was obsolete after about thirty minutes of searching for updates on the web which would have taken all of 15 seconds on any other device.

I don't have the time or the space here to explain how difficult even the most basic functions are.

To make things worse, 1/2 the blogs I read weren't accessible at all saying "unsupported content type." None of the blogs I read could I go to the leave a content page, and forget about getting to the new post page here...ARGGGGH.

I HATE AT&T (I'll spare you the even longer rant here as to why) but I am seriously tempted to go back to them after 12 years of resolve never to give them another dime just to get an i-Phone.

Smothered Ecstasy and Thin Walls.

2008-05-29T10:58:00.000-07:00

When I first moved into my little dorm/prison/BOQ-style room several months ago I was very impressed with the construction. The walls seemed totally impervious to any sound. I slept soundly with nary a whisper to disturb my rest. I wondered if they had some sort of high tech sound baffle as the walls didn't seem unusually thick.

Later I discovered the secret. My neighbors all happened to work different weeks and different shifts than I.

Not so now. My jovial, hard drinking neighbor works on the same crew as I, and for the most part is home. I work a lot of overtime (150 hours of overtime this month), and he hides out from a couple of ex-wives and their lawyers, so neither of us leave the camp much.

Yesterday, the lovely Fellatio Artist left the kids with her sister 30 miles away and came up to enjoy the steak dinner I get every Wednesday night. I popped into my room to grab a toothbrush and ran into Eric. When I mentioned my wife was waiting out in the car he said to bring her by so he could say 'hey'.

So I did. Pleasantries exchanged, she then asked if I was going to show her my room. I did and jokingly asked "So, you wanna?". "Of course", she answered - already unbuttoning her blouse. (Any wonder I love this woman?)

So, on my freshly made bed from my weekly maid service, she lay under the harsh fluorescent overhead looking quite ravish-able. So I did. With great enthusiasm. We could clearly hear my neighbor through the wall talking to a recent move-in. As she would begin to whimper with pleasure I would clamp a hand over her mouth which only increased the volume of her cries.

I intend to swagger a bit with pride when I next see my compadres in the mess hall.

Sharing my SLutty Wife. - The Husband

2008-05-13T15:38:00.000-07:00

No, I am not accepting applications for the next penis to violate my wife's eager orifices. No, not even if your man-root is of impressive dimensions, and please do not attach pics to the application you are not to send.

The "sharing" of my wifes really pretty eager body is merely retrospective. For some reason it has bothered me not at all that she came prepared with a skill set finely honed on other men's cocks. I do tell her often that the only problem with vaginal intercourse is that her eager mouth goes wasted.

What got me thinking on this topic was a recent post on Hamlet and Loralie's excellent Blog, Pornotopia. In that post he discusses the frequently repeated refrain that he is so lucky to have such an eager slut for a girlfriend. He discussed the fact that most guys would actually be a bit discomfited if their partners were actually to become the nymphs that they imagine in their kinkiest moments.

I don't actually identify with the interest that cuckolds have in having their wives or girlfriends out fucking other people, but I do kind of understand a little of their motivation. I just like the voyeuristic component to it.

From the time that we met, it was not too long before sexual topics were somewhat shyly, then progressively less so, brought up. I was aware that she of course was not a virgin, as I was pretty sure she hadn't conceived immaculately. She was not surprised, particularly, that I was a virgin. Most people that knew me wouldn't have been.

As she would (usually during some kinky heavy petting) answer various "have you ever?" type questions, it was like little neatly wrapped parcels to open. Kind of plain brown wrapper, nicely folded. Inside as I unwrapped I would find full-color glossy images. Hot.

As I awaited the next installment of my "slut-of-the-week" club serial story, I embellished in my mind. A lot.

I had her blowing the football team in the back of the bus on long road trips. The reality was a bit more tame. She did blow the captain of the team, but it was a bit more private, and she was after all dating him.

Anyway, years ago, she had mentioned in reference to someone else that cultural taboo of a white woman having had any kind of experience with a black man being something that would be a hard thing for a lot of guys to accept in her experience. I didn't press, but sensed there was a story there somewhere.

It didn't actually come out until fairly recently, and I don't recall the context, but the story was much less rich in detail than some others owing in part to the lack of memory on her part of what actually occurred. The details aren't particularly salacious. She was engaged, some reason or another they were fighting most likely over his infidelities, and her manager was in parallel out of sorts with his partner. A few after work drinks and she remembers little other than the horror primarily of finding herself cheating on her fiance more so than the any particular feeling of having crossed a cultural boundary.

So, goes to show you once they have tried black, it is possible to go back. It helps that I have an really enormous........ego.

Distance Training "Orgasm Control" - The Husband.

2008-05-13T15:09:00.000-07:00

Site meter is a fun tool. I often like to look at the (limited) details it gives about our visitors. Now, before all of you surfing from work log off in a panic, I should tell you how limited it is. It merely tells what link refered you (if any), what isp you are using, and in general terms your geographic location.

Its fun to see what part of the world has checked in. In fact, it is comforting to know for example that currently of the five people reading, one is from Pretoria, South Africa. Why comforting? Because I am pretty sure we aren't likely to have a blushing encounter at the corner market for example. Disturbingly, the person who has been on the longest at the moment (a little over 10 minutes, currently reviewing video clips) is actually from the major metropolis in which we reside. There are two Canadians online and one person from Pennsylvania.

AAG's Blog recently had a couple of posts referring to the anguish of having some nosey (presumedly elderly) parents intruding into her private virtual space and reading snippets of her blog. Such events are often the cause of really good blogs going dark and she vows not to let that happen to hers.

Oh, the title of the post, and tha actual point of this entry. I was just talking (dirty) to my wife when she was interupted by some children so our discussion is temporarilly on hold. What we were talking about was making a phone sex date for tonight, with the caveat that neither is to cum. The plan is that I am going to get off work at about 7:30 am (having not gotten off), drive three of the four hours home and meet her in a small town an hour from home where we shall consummate the experiance in a parking lot. I only have this small window because I am working my 4th day of overtime on nightshift and have less than 24 hours before I start my regular 7 x 12.5 hour regular dayshift.

She was recently intrigued for some reason by a commenter on her personal blog who suggested she use our distance as an opportunity to practice orgasm denial, apparently an interest of his. This is going to be very hard for her as any more than a little light grazing with fingertips, and she is over the edge. Sensitive and responsive doesn't begin to describe her vagina. I will have to work not to abrade my penis in this endevour as I can hold out pretty well. Partly age, partly early training. I had issues. (have issues) I felt immense hang-over-like post orgasmic let-down after I would orgasm and actually enjoyed that moment just before as much as actually cumming, which usually involved a lot of guilty, sticky, embarrassed, clean-up.

So the title of this post was lifted directly from the google search terms used by the individual in South Africa to find us. Seemed apt.

All Work and NO play. - The Bedraggled Husband

2008-04-25T12:55:00.000-07:00

I came straight home after my work week ended last time for an event involving one of the kids, so I wasn't able to work any overtime in that 1/2 of my week off. Instead, I left three days early so I could work the maximum two days permitted while still taking the required one day off to avoid a nine day stretch. This mean I got up here on a Monday, worked through the next Monday and on to the end of my week this past Wednesday, and then some more overtime. I tried to argue that since I got off work at 7pm Wednesday, that if I didn't work again till Thursday at 7PM that I had technically "taken a day off" as required. This argument was successful once but they didn't buy it this time and sent me to my room without any more than one day of overtime. I had already promised a friend a ride home today, so I sit here at the dormitories a little bored waiting for him to get out of a training class.

I have idle time and you know what they say about idle hands...

You would think that since this place clears out in the middle of the day and I have 12 computers and some privacy that I could get into all sorts of deviant behavior. Sadly, I find that my libido is lagging. You would have to know me and my history to know how truly astounding that is. Here I am perhaps 8 hours from getting laid, and I can't bring myself to rouse any real interest in anything sexual. These computers are semi-restricted but not monitored, so there are plenty of places I can go including any number of links off this blog that arent blocked, and still...meh.

I'm just tired. On what was to be our last day of shift the powers that be actually called a meeting for 45 minutes before the start of our 12.5 hour shift AND another hour long one for after!!!! Among other things, they discussed the dangers of fatigue brought on by sleep deprivation. I kid you not.

I have a feeling that a little groping, remembered fragrances, tastes and touches, and I'll be right as rain again...

meanwhile I shall blurf through our blogroll and see if I can't find a little tittilation to arouse my flagging libido.

Discussing Edges and Boundaries.

2008-04-17T21:07:00.000-07:00

Place holder for an idea I had for a post. Too tired after a long day of work to write it out. The gist of it is the discussion we had as the wife read me some Craigslist personals. We used to enjoy the local free papers personals. Similar thing, but in a different light. Some ads were funny, some sexy, some stupid, some intriguing. Discussion about what we might do if circumstances were right, where would we stop? Slippery slope and all that. We liked the idea of same-room keep to ourselves but watch and be watched...

Safeword: Mmph. -The Husband

2008-04-16T17:37:00.000-07:00

place holder...

Best Laid Plans. - The Husband

2008-04-16T17:08:00.000-07:00

I am back at work now but wanted to catch up on Blogging a bit.

Prior to my last visit home we had both been in sync in ultra-horny mode. I tried to stay flexible in my mind and not let the fairly specific plans we made become some kind of necessary kinky road map to my time off. What we had talked about sounded extremely hot. In the past we had had similar conversations in the style of 'making plans' but reality and real life intrudes. I just wanted to be more in the moment when I got home.

The time before with no real plans at all I though was more fulfilling, so I took our discussions as just fantasy talk and enjoyed them for that by themselves.

Still, the idea sounded really hot. The wife was in a pretty subbie place. Her idea was that I would place a bolster under her hips, and tie her down with her ass in the air. For the day. On cam.

I would watch the toddler, and go about my normal activities for my time off, whether it be catching up my laundry, doing some cooking, (I like to cook a lot, and at the camp, my meals are all made for me, good, but not quite up to the creative standards I enjoy.) maybe catch up on some online sites I can't reach through the camps, cyber cafe's filters, that sort of thing.

When the mood struck, I was going to enter the room and pick an orifice, or redden her backside, or whatever. We had been having some discussion of insertion fun , maybe taking suggestions from whatever audience had gathered...It sounded pretty hot.

My favorite suggestion she had was that I engage somebody in a little cyber dalliance while she assumed the roll of inflatable fuck-doll.

I tend to work long hours and rarely run into anyone online at the times I try, but just before I left I ran into somebody that I hadn't talked to in a while and she seemed enthused with the idea.

So I worked my last shift..(leaving for work at 6:00pm, and getting back to camp at about 8:30am) then drove about 5 hours because I had given a ride back to our metropolis to a coworker...

I am not real sure how it is that I thought I could be up 20 hours straight drive that far and organize a multi-media, multi-player sexual spectacle. On the way home this reality occurred to me. So I slept.

I sleep a lot when I get home, especially when I have a week of night shifts. I groggily woke up and somehow thought it was about 3:00 in the afternoon when it was actually about 6:30pm. I knew the wife had to check in for her job about 3:00 and when I saw her getting ready I didn't realize that we both needed to get ready for an evening function for one of the kids. I sleepily told her not to put any pants on yet, and urged her over to the bed. I tried hard to make up for lost time with a round the world tour. She was compliant, and sexy and fun and as per usual multi-orgasmic. I didn't actually put a lot of effort into her pleasure, knowing she'd have a good time regardless and just selfishly rutted like a roughneck just off the rigs. I recall grabbing her by the hair (gently) and guiding her face into a more fuckable position...at some point I decided some actual pussy was called for so I fucked her that way a while, contorting her awkwardly (for her) with legs raised. I like that position because in a semi-sit-up angle like that she has a good view of her own vagina as my cock, slippery with her juices glides in and out. I often urge her to masturbate while I fuck her. Funny that as open as she is she usually seems to wait for the suggestion before she does.

With her ankles above her earlobes that tends to raise her ass off the bed, presenting the third port on my world tour. I decided a little Greek was in order and I don't mean gyro's and falafel.

As I entered her there was some obvious discomfort. It reminded me of the description of a wry look on the actresses face that a friend of ours described in her favorite anal porno. I mentioned it to my wife saying that Whitney would have loved the look on her face. That made the pain kind of hot, I think. So I was careful, but the wife explained it hurt but it was a good hurt, and I got a bit more vigorous. It was pretty animalistic. I pounded away and she writhed and bucked, and it was over probably quicker than it takes to tell.

Afterward she apparently was a little injured. Ooops. But hot.

Timing and Cycles. - The Husband.

2008-04-03T14:02:00.000-07:00

Men in general have a vague awareness that women are subject to hormonal cycles. These cycles we understand regulate the process of menstruation, and theres that added monthly irritability component that is often joked about but not during that time. Those of us that have been through the process of monitoring basal temperatures and saving up sperm for optimum ovulation potential, are also aware that some time in the middle of the cycle, she lets loose with an egg and there is the potential for another mouth to feed. This is usually about the extent of our working knowledge of "how she works".

I don't recall how I became aware on a much more important plane here, but at some point and I am sure it was after YEARS of marriage, I became aware of another and oh, so much more important, biorhythm at work.

The horny cycle.

This is Mother Natures cruel trick that causes the majority of teen pregnancies, bewildered but gratefully sexually sated husbands, and unexplainable girls night out leading to that first girl-girl experience.

Dollars to donuts if you have your girl rate on a scale of 1-10 each day how horny she feels (presuming you haven't done something stupid to F*@& things up) you will find that she is at her sexual peak of arousal at precisely the time she is guiding another egg down her fallopian tubes. This is why when that teen does it "just that once", or was too horny to practice safe sex, she finds herself great with child. The guy works and works on her, and then the day she gives in is the very day he better be thinking about a better job than Burger King.

There is another small window of opportunity that exists just before Aunt Flo comes to town. My working theory is that Mother Nature gives one last shot of horny-mone just before it sluffs off that last egg in a vain attempt to get that egg to amount to a future college attendee.

I actually do remember hearing something about the likelihood of pregnancy coinciding with desire in high school health class. In my defense though, I spent the entire time blushing and hoping no one said out loud what I was thinking which was that this information was irrelevant to dateless virgins. My slow process in picking up on this trend over the years since my wife popped my cherry is pretty understandable too. For one, she is a fairly sexual person by nature and likes sex for the joy of sex and the intimate contact, explaining once that she had read once that as a woman, if you don't "feel" like sex, go ahead and begin because once started you'll enjoy the experience regardless. (Any wonder I love this woman?) Now, it hasn't always worked that smoothly because it has taken years of careful study, practice and ongoing sensitivity training to avoid the situation where I have done something stupid to F*@& things up. This is to date still an ongoing concern.

So, I have mentioned before that my out of town blue collar job as a heavy equipment operator has me working seven 12.5 hour days then seven off. The reallity is that I also work a couple of overtime days, and lose a full day in transit back and forth as its a 400 mile round trip, and I have a visit with our state patrol at least once each trip. Some amicably, some not. Sometimes I outrun them.

Sex as a result is kind of a lovely afterthought to my life in general. I am not complaining, mind you, I realize everyone has pressures in there life and scheduling, and interpersonal issues and kids and roommates and neighbors that interferes with their God-given right to get laid as often as the thought crosses their fancy. I just got spoiled for a while there. When I had the luxury of being marginally self-employed for a couple of years, you saw the results with sex on an inhumanly regular basis and the time to write 2,000 word essays bragging about it.

In conversation with one of my co-workers, he mentioned that on one out of every two weeks he has off his wife is on her period. Don't ask me how on earth this came up, I am baffled, no one here knows anything at all about my enviable sex life much less my life as a sex-blogger. In conversation with her sister, it turns out that this has been the case with them too. On the one hand it seems maybe the cycle syncs up with the mates absence, but when you think about it it is pure happenstance. You have statistically exactly a 50% chance of this happening if you are home exactly 1/2 (or less) of the time.

When I was in training and had idle time on my hands, those idle hands found their way to my cock with the phone to my ear, or to the keyboard for some fruitless attempts to bump into my wife (or anyone else interesting for that matter) online. Now, I am just worked to the point of blissful, sexless, exhaustion which seems to extend a bit to my leave time as I spend most of that time paying back my sleep debt.

When I came home two weeks ago, I had very high expectations. I had inexplicably remembered what it was to be hory to the point of distraction and managed to somewhat inject my enthusiasm into her expectations as well. (See the entry on her blog about the vegetable shopping trip.) I had given her the assignment of making a sexual itinerary to include a wide variety of sexual activities to entertain me with upon my return as the pasha to the tent of my one-woman harem. -I had forgotten it was spring break and the kids were home with their unreasonable demands of "feed me, talk to me, take me places...." I was a little let down, but I also found that I sated rather quickly and got solidly on my sleep-debt paying nap schedule. I even violated the eggplant that was intended for much more sordid duty and made a lovely babaganoosh with pita wedges. How sick is that?

This time, I came home with very low expectations, sexually speaking. I had worked a total of 141 hours in 11 days and drove straight home after a 12.5 hour shift. My foot had been on an accelerator for over 16 hours at that point. I was aware she had been having very painful cramps and the kids were sick with the headache, fever, and congestion that she herself had been battling for the previous few days. It didn't look good.

I got home, parked the car, lugged a duty bag upstairs to find her tired but intriguingly attired in a yellow floral print nightie I figured that was optimism on her part and a welcome home, but didnt read too much into it or the hint of vanilla scent that wafted as I opened the door. I scooted the toddle over a bit as she had decided to claim not only all of my side of the bed sprawling sideways but also a bit of my wifes as she needed someones side to kick in the night.

Quite tired I put my arm under her neck and cuddled a bit, my back luxuriating at a horizontal position for the first time in about 20 hours. She seemed, to me, to be a little distant. In reality she was merely understandably fatigued from dealing with sick kids and waiting up past her bedtime for my arrival. In times past I would have wondered, "Oh, no, what does she know, what did I leave up on the computer....." In this case I have a pure heart and clean hands as I have neither the time nor inclination to explore any of the new-found freedoms our more open online understanding has made possible if not particularly a great idea always.

So, I dared ask. "What's wrong?" Normally this is a query to be avoided at all costs.

"Nothing" she said, tiredly but convincingly.

License granted I began roaming my hand a bit from around her shoulder to ( predictably) gently stroking creamy breasts trough silken fabric. Her always responsive nipples did not disappoint as they eagerly made their pointed presence known. A little flick here, some gentle pressure there and they were very much in play.

"You don't have to limit your touching there, you know." she teased.

"Oh really? And do I need to confine said touching to fingertips or might other extensions be used?"

She giggled a bit, but stopped with a gasp as I went down her belly with my chin and with no particular grace of fanfare, lifted her hem and found her panty-less pussy with my tongue.

"Oh, my..." was about as cogent as her commentary was at that point.

I had actually been 'preparing' myself to once again surprise her with a quick cum shot, expecting that a little fellatio was likely going to be the extent of the activity, given that I expected Aunt Flo to have arrived in force and to have bought a basket of discomfort with her. By 'preparing' I meant that I had passed at least 1/4 of the 4 hours home with my pants down to mid thigh and a hand on my, er, well, shifter. My theory was that if I teased it a bit, it both served the purpose of keeping me occupied and awake, and filled my seminal vessels with the little liquid surprise I had hoped to blast her with. I had done the same thing the night before when I was still experimenting with my stroking it while talking inane subjects with her. So I was cocked, locked and ready to rock.

Now, it seemed, I was going to need to put the safety back on and avoid any extra stimulation if I expected to complete a round-the-tour which seemed to be in the offing. As I ate her out I had to be sure to lay on a hip rather than my turgid member or something was going to go off without warning. She was quite tasty by the way, I posit that the more aroused a woman is the sweeter the nectar, I think there is some science there, as the fluid in greater quantity tends to be fresher and cleansing.

At some point I decided that my sword desperately need sheathing so I worked my way up letting her taste herself on my lips and chin as I slid inside and began that familiar rhythm. I'd like to report that I fucked her raw having performed like the stallion I am, but the truth is it was no more than a few strokes and for her a couple more orgasms (she's easy) before I found that two out of three holes would need to go wanting this go-round.

I made up for my speedy delivery with fully 5 more orgasms in the next 30 hours before Aunt Flo finally put a temporary cessation to the lack of hostilities. More on the next later as a couple deserve their own treatment. Interestingly we both kept count of the times but neither of us can remember details about the middle fuck-fest. We know that it happened we just did it without taking notes to pass along to our faithful readers..:)

Heavy Breathing, Continued. - The Husband

2008-03-28T20:43:00.000-07:00

In an effort to continue the experiment with more data points, I decided I would try again today from on the job. I did sort of warn her by calling her from the cab telling her I would be at a port-a-john soon and what was she up to. (She was up to dealing with too sick kids so that didn't bode well...) I told her, "Well I'll give you a call after I have my cock in hand."

She laughed.

This is actually often the case as I attempt to zip back up withour dropping my phone where i wouldn't want to retrieve it. In this case though I meant that I would specifically have my cock in hand for the express purpose of pleasuring myself. I chose a remote port-ajohn with lots of fast and dangerous traffic nearby that discourages another operator from stopping and waiting.

It didn't work. We have these vans that shuttle operators around and one of those pulled up. i though they were waiting to use the john. (Turned out later they were just waiting to connect with an incoming piece of equipment to switch operators.) I had my cock fairly rigid and was already feeling those ripples that portend things to come. I just couldnt finish though it seemd and I began to feel silly so I gave up the attempt...for then.

Sleepus Interuptus.

2008-03-27T17:04:00.000-07:00

Last night I got off work, updated two blogs, had a shower and called the wife. The plan as outlined below was to stroke myself, hopefully to orgasm while talking about everyday topics without her knowledge. I had mentioned updating another blog but didn't mention taking the time on this one. so I was pretty sure she hadn't read it.

In a way this is the perfect way to engage with her sexually at the moment. She gets no pressure at all, and at the moment, she is so not in the mood. Understandable because she has been sick all last week and is having heavy pre-menstrual cramps. (Just perfect by the way now that I am home for two 5 day periods a month, she syncs up on the home week.)

My hastily formed plan was to take a very quick shower and catch her after she got the kids settled but before she drifted off to sleep. I figured I had a 30-45 minute window.

I ended up spending closer to 10 minutes in the shower than the allotted 5 when I decided that my recently shaved, very smooth cock needed to be really really clean. I was careful not to finish the job there, thus making it's next assignment more difficult to complete. I rationalized that if I had a period of masturbation not quite to completion before calling her I'd be cocked, locked and ready to rock so to speak.

I think I have mentioned that my masturbatory technique (entirely self devised without any external information at all as to how anyone else engaged in any sort of self pleasuring activity) doesn't actually consist of playing a little one on five as it were but rather a bit of mattress or pillow humping. I have good privacy in my room save for thin walls but, the once a week linen service has me a bit bodily fluids shy. I am NOT leaving any of that for some one else to clean up. Thats just gross. Concerned that I might need a little friction relief I located the bottle of lotion that the wife thought to pack. I had a couple of tissues at the ready for specimen collection if the project went to fruition.

Prepared like the former Boy Scout that I am, I called.

"Hel.....lo...." she croaked. A word and a tone conveying the answer to the unasked question, "Are you awake?"

"Hi" I quietly but encouragingly voiced. "I guess I don't need to ask if I woke you...."

"Yeah...I was asleep, I am exhausted...."

"More importantly, I hope I didn't wake the baby?".......

"No, she's out hard.....and I'll be to in a minute....goodnight...Love You..." she mumbled trailing off...

"Love you too...'

hmmmm, I thought, cock in hand. Not much to work with there. I looked down at it and it had grown some but had that sections of firmness, easily bent, like a garden hose left in the sun kinked and then cooled off. I resolved to give it a try remembering the pleasurable feeling I had felt in the shower. It seemed a little silly to put it away just because my little experiment was ill fated. I found this time as in past attempts that I am just not a lotion lovin' kinda guy. The friction level is wrong. I worked the lotion in a bit and eventual reached my preferred tactile sensation of firm but gentle pressure that stretches the skin back and forth over the rigid insides.

I discovered something I had never noticed before as I masturbated under the industrial fluorescent light fixture provided in my dorm room. The veiny-ness of my cock has layers to it. You can see the veins in the actual epidermal layers, and a completely separate and distinct network that, I assume provide fluid delivery to the hydrolic system.

Fascinating I thought.

At some point I worked in some sort of imagery more suitable to masturbatory reverie involving at least my wife, and as I recall, a girlfriend of hers, and the exhibitionist aspect of the fact that I was specifically masturbating so that I could write about it and mused about who might read that.

I figure that some will be guys such as myself that are fairly gynophillic on the Kinsey scale and despite whatever open-mindedness they wish to feel, can't like I get over the squick factor of another guys cock. There might be a few that are bi and into it, I kind of doubt that a married hetero couple is likely on the regular reading list of most gay guys, so for me in my mind anyway, I was masturbating for the majority of the 27,000 visitors to our blog which I envision to all be hot bisexual coeds. That helped.

Oh, and everything came out fine.

Random non-sexual banter with a porn star.

2008-03-26T21:01:00.000-07:00

The company put Sirius Satellite Radio in my cab overnight. I didn't actually notice because I just went by feel and as I went from remote place to remote place I pressed the scan buttons on the FM band it was on looking to pick-up any of the three stations that reach the area. For some reason the really well paid mechanics that work on these things don;t know that there is a lead from the radios that should go straight to the battery instead of through the ignition so the pre-sets are always out on every piece of equipment I get on.

At some point the control tower called me up and asked me to tune my Sirius Radio to 184. I did but was busy using the equipment to make my employer money so I couldn't actually work out the controls or what to do. Apparently the weather station (Channel 184) allows the unit to talk to Sirius and unlock something or another. I put it on scan and after a while on and off, I got stations, I thought at first that they were all coming in in Spanish. (Later I figured out some were Spanish and some French) I, for a moment thought maybe someone was having fun at my expense. Our equipment is at times left in Spanish mode by jokesters or maybe Hispanic operators, but jokesters are more likely. The first English station I came to was The Playboy Chanel. I called up the wife from the nearest port-a-john. I told her she better hurry if she wants to get "the easy one" before The Girls Next Door do. I wondered what it would be, moans and giggles or what. Can't very well do a centerfold layout over the air.

The first thing I heard was some sort of call in game show where you had to guess what word the porn star (I assume) was hinting at and whoever wins gets some prize from Hef's grab bag. These guys were noticeably excited to be talking to the girl, but the subject matter was entirely non-sexual. This at first struck me as odd and desperate. I imagined these guys watching this girl over and over again on a worn out VHS cassette till the knew every curve of her better than perhaps she did. I thought that maybe some of them can almost make themselves believe that they "know" her. In a way, they do, I suppose. At least the version of her she chooses to share in that way.

I got to thinking that it actually did make sense for them to get exuited to be talking to her. I still look forward to random stolen moments of conversation I have with my wife from plastic toilet enclosures buffeted by winds at high elevation. I was thinking that in my younger voyeuristic days, if I had thought I could in anyway keep my voice calm and get away with it I would love to have masturbated while having a conversation with one of my guilty teen-age lust-crushes.

I think that I might just try that with my wife sometime. More likely to get away with it if I try it out on her before she reads this though. Mum's the word, ya'all.

Earthquake... -The Husband

2008-03-20T04:40:00.000-07:00

I kinda doubt she felt the tremors this morning since my pillow is located 310 kilometers from hers. It woke me up though. I need to be asleep because I have my second of eight 12.5 hour shifts in a few hours. Even the sleepy potion that comes when I, well, come didn't help.

I have mandatory training the day after my "on-week" ends, then I'll probably pick up another 25 hours of overtime in a couple of days then dash home bleary eyed. Small wonder that I seem to have less time for sexing and blogging these days.

My last week on was 8 successive night shifts. I woke the wife just about every time I called, and slept when she was awake. It was hard not being able to reach out from one of my mile-high-plus port-a-johns. Sitting a-top 16 growling diesel cylinders doesn't make for a very good acoustics so I retreat to "my office" to call her. So far, despite the surprisingly well maintained and relatively hygienic conditions of these portable outhouses, I have yet to engage in an audible sexual escapade from one, but desperate times....

"Ow! "says the reluctant sub. - The Husband.

2008-02-29T09:02:00.000-08:00

"Owwww, that hurt," she said.

"It's supposed to," I said smacking her ass through her jeans again and reaching for a kitchen drawer.

"NO IMPLEMENTS!" She protested and closed the drawer. I ignored her and grabbed a large bamboo spoon.

About the 8th swat I recognized a little less vigorous protest and the way she sidled sideways after the swat.

"Enjoyed that last one did you?"

"I enjoyed all of them, but I have to feed the baby who is watching you, by the way."

Being the responsible parent that I am I dragged her to where a counter was between us and the cherub and bent her over same. "Let me see if I am doing any good." The red side of her left cheek just cried out to be matched on the right. So I did.

In no time her ankles were retrained by the jeans around them, and she was shamelessly crying out with cheek against the cool counter, as I pumped in and out of her from behind. Reaching around I was pinching her clit cruelly an feeling her quiver as she clamped her thighs together.

As she collapsed after a particularly violent orgasm no longer able to hold the awkward position, I steered her descent toward the floor onto a nearby step stool and grabbing a hank of hair I guided her lips around my cock just in time for her to swallow it down. Timing is everything.

All work and no play. -The Husband

2008-02-29T08:21:00.000-08:00

I have completed training for my new blue collar job. I work now 220 miles from home and stay in a campus known as "The M@n Camp. " My wife had a dream the other night that I was having an affair. Even if I managed to alter my gynophillic orientation, I am a bit fatigued by my work day. The heavy equipment I operate is much too large not to have power steering and brakes, but it is surprisingly exhausting. I awake at 5:30 each morning, and by the time I am back in camp, fed, showered and in bed its usually about 9:30. This leaves time only for a little fairly dreamless sleep.

On the plus side, after working 90-110 hours in 7-8 days I get 6-7 days off. A whole week of uninterrupted kink. Whatever shall I do.

I was sick the last few days of work and was a little relieved when my request to work an 8th successive 12.5 hour day of overtime was not granted. This left me coming home a day early. Having had my libido on hold for a week, I was surprised the the prospect of being able to come home anytime I was alert enough to spend 4 more hours on the road dodging large trucks laden with dangerous chemicals driven by idiots with anger management problems and abetted by corrupt local police departments**.

I started out at 2:00am having gotten 5 hours of sleep and having run out of decongestant. I drove an hour to the nearest 24 hour WalMart and bought some drugs that were alleged to be non-drowsy. They only widened the distance between the two sets of lines I was trying to keep my car between. Depth perception only works if you keep your eye1ss focused in the same direction. I pulled into a rest area on a reservation that seemed from the vandalism to indicated that that particular tribes youth has not made much progress towards civilization in the last 15 years. Sad really that such a once proud group of warriors descendants are reduced to "claiming" pieces of BIA property with a magic marker and pointed scratching implements. I'd have more respect I think if they would swoop down out of the hills and carjack me. That thought inspired me to amble down the road a piece to a well lit parking lot of a closed grocery where some 18 wheelers were tied down for the night. I closed my eyes a few minutes and was asleep but cramped. Deciding I was too sick and tired to drive I curled up in the back seat of my sub-compact and slept for an hour.

I finally got home nearly 6 hours after my weary journey began. The first trip up to my interview had taken only 2 hours and 45 minutes and involved losing a couple of SUV's unwisely chosen by the state police for pursuit. Given that I was too tired to enjoy a good high speed dash through mountain passes, it should be no real surprise that I wasn't that ready for sex when I got home. My brother-in-law does similar long shift work and his wife had reported that I would likely be in no condition to put out when I came home. I believed my superior libido would overcome this notion but I was wrong. It took several naps and about 15 hours of decompression before I worked up the urge to ravish the wife.

Guiding her head under the covers to my less than fully erect cock quickly reminded it what its purpose was in life. Fully turgid I found that I needed to bury it to the hilt in her. I was plunging away hissing dirty filthy things in her ear until she quickly turned the tables. I am constantly amazed how I can spin some long, involved fantasy that makes her writhe in enjoyment, and how quickly a few succinct words from her can turn that fantasy on its side and make me come long before my plans to ravish her endlessly are through.

**My last trip home a tanker laden with highly corrosive material attempted to intimidate me into exceeding the speed limit of 65 mph by a large margin. I am not opposed to speeding per se for he or I but I don't take well to bullying. Since we seemed to be playing a game of who has the largest cock I wasn't about to concede as my rig at work is easily 4 times the size of his. I finally forced him to pass my sub-compact which by the way can and has done easily double the speed limit at times. I got on my phone and was reading off the numbers on the back of his rig when he decided to slam on his rakes in a silly attempt to make me rear-end him. Turns out a 2,000 lb car with four wheel disk brakes and speed rated tires slows faster than an 18 wheeler driven by a nimrod. The local police department when I attempted to have him subjected to a sobriety test told me that I was lucky it happened in their jurisdiction as they would have cited me for impeding the flow of traffic.

Porn can be instructive. -The Husband.

2008-02-08T10:56:00.000-08:00

A lot of modern porn seems to turn us off a bit. On the one hand, we aren't eager to return to the bushy 70's. On the other hand, whats with all the spitting?

One of the other things we both found a little gratuitous and not very interesting was the sequence they seem to prefer for the formulaic scenes. It always starts with fellatio. (Which is entirely as it should be of course.) It is the later sequences that seemed out of order to us.

Mouth to pussy works well for us since just putting my cock in her mouth does in fact make her verifiable wet. Pussy to mouth works OK because she does agree with me that her pussy is delicious. Ass to pussy seems to be be just asking for an infection, and an infected pussy is fun for no one. The last permutation just made me think..."Why is that fun?" Watching a porn star taking it up the ass, and then eagerly gobbling the cock seemed to me to stretch credibility.

Until we tried it.

I alluded to this earlier, but wasn't sure what I wanted to write about it our how explicitly.

The drowned rat hair, the obvious discomfort, the eagerness of her sucking...the craven look in her eyes when I had her against the wall in the shower and demanded she express how she liked it. Fingering her drenched cunt as she enthusiastically explained how slutty it felt to her.

It had come about because she was trying to be creative in an effort to get me off in a phone-sex chat we were having. It was mildly D/s related in tone, and she was enjoying some butt sex in the scene. I can't remember exactly but I think it was unintentional when she started sucking me off in her tale, and I pointed out the sequence. At some point she indicated that it would feel slutty to have me grab her by the hair and cum in her mouth after pulling out of her ass. For the days that followed that chat up until I actually got home, I threatened to make that a reality.

When I got home (this is the visit a little over 2 weeks ago), I had surprised her. I had told her I was going to be a day later getting home than I was. I walked into the bedroom to find her in "comfortable pajamas". When I started fondling her she protested that she needed a shower. I grabbed her by the hair and forced her to her knees as I unbuckled my pants. I had been freshly showered about 18 hours previously. I then spent 12 hours on a truck then 4 hours more in my car to get home. I told her I wasn't waiting for a shower before she sucked me off. I was kidding, sort of. But she went to it anyway, later telling me I tasted like a mechanic. Probably the exhaust leak under my car.

I finally let her up and into the shower which isn't really designed for two. Somehow in the shower even dirty things seem a little cleaner. She hates getting water in her eyes but complained not at all as I encouraged her to kneel and continue the blow job. At some point I told her to turn around. I had her bend over and and arrange herself at an angle uncomfortable for her but optimal for my thrusting. She said it hurt quite a bit, not this time as I would have expected from the entry but rather the depth and angle. I offered to stop but she said it felt really really good. So I obliged her further. When her whimpers got a little louder I told her that if she had had as much as she could stand of the butt-sex the only way to get out of it was to offer another orifice. She eagerly pulled off and got back on her knees. I told her that that was the sluttiest thing I had ever seen. We went back and forth 3-4 times like that. It was pretty amazing to see.

When I finally let her up and out of the water stream, her hair was a mess, but her eyes were bright. She is really good these days about acknowledging her part in our kink-fests. There was a time though that she would either be a little coy or even in denial in the cold light of day. I have issues with accepting my kinky tendencies and like to hear that we aren't doing something solely because I want it. I like to have her articulate things to make it clear that she is as turned on by things as I am. I asked her this time to tell me how she felt about me fucking her face after fucking her mouth. I wish I could recall the words she used but in the two weeks since the exact phrasing has been lost. She was most convincing in her enthusiasm.

My Wife is a Cheap Whore. - The Husband

2008-02-08T10:03:00.001-08:00

I had a couple of days off again and limped home trying to save as much gas as possible on the 200 mile trip. In the past, the best I have managed in the "Midlife-Crisis-Mobile" was about 26 MPG and often less than 20. Coasting downhill, and keeping the tach far below my usual 8,200 RPM shifts yielded an impressive 35 MPG. Economizing in this way got me home for about $16. The trip back uphill cost a little more so I figure I spent about $35 to come home for the express purpose of fucking my wife.I got home and found that dishes were a little behind so I pitched in a couple of hours of general housework. Since I muddied the clothes myself I am not counting my labor doing my laundry that I brought back with me. I figure my labor was worth say minimum wage so add another $10 or so.The water main was broken. I spent a couple of hours with the teenager's assistance excavating that. Since he did most of the heavy work there, I earned supervisor's wages there so figure about $25 more. Repairing the pipe is Plumber's work so that has to be worth a minimum $50 service fee. I am not counting the labor filling the trench back in, because she helped with that. It was pretty hard, muddy work. Come to think of it thought she does like getting dirty so maybe I should charge for that.The original plan was a repeat of our previous ass-to-mouth filthiness. I had called her en route and the plan was to have her on her knees by the front door, mouth agape as I dropped trou. It was not to be as the toddler was awake and active. We did manage to eventually manage a little privacy and after a little fellatio foreplay, and tried out a new position with her back against the wall and a foot on the doorknob. The next round we tried a little more conventional bed-sex to the enjoyment of all. I threatened her with some butt sex for the round three but my punch list of throat/cunt/ass did not actually get completed before I did. I was fairly impressed with myself for actually getting off three times in just a little over 24 hours. Yay for my leaner, easier-getting-off, Prozac-free body.I am scheduled to work 7 pm to 7 am tonight so I didn't have to leave quite as early. In an effort to get on a graveyard sleep schedule the plan was to stay up late Thursday night possibly fucking her up the ass, then make the drive up and sleep Friday morning. I was a little tired from pipe-laying so I decided to get a little pre-coital nap. The nap lasted till 4 am, at which time I needed to leave. So round four consisted of a peck on the cheek as I headed out the door. I got to the work camp 45 minutes late to have breakfast, and too awake to sleep. I might as well have stayed home and taken advantage of her general horniness again. For years my drive exceeded her rather ample drive by a large margin. I feel I am just about as driven as ever. My ability to recover quickly and go again though is diminished a bit with age. She remarked that at this point her interest probably slightly exceeds mine at this point. This is a very good thing. Its nice to have it whenever the whim strikes me. That is assuming I happen to be in the same zip code. Cruel irony that we are physically separated lately when we are as emotionally close as we have been in a long time.I figure I spent cash and labor of about $120 to get off 3 times. So at $40 each time for no-holes-barred sex with the full G.F.E. ("GirlFriend Experience") is indeed a bargain. I defy you to find a better whore in any English speaking country for less than two Jacksons.

Ship's that pass..... -The Husband.

2008-02-02T16:51:00.000-08:00

I only had Friday off, and it is impractical to make a 450 mile round trip and be back to work and sharp in less than 24 hours.

The Wife loaded up The Kids in The Minivan and made the drive. Several miscues including me turning off my cellphone instead of just ending a call later, I arrived at the same location she was headed to, close to the job site, and several hours drive for her. She arrived a bit fatigued from the drive, and I was more tired than I expected after two weeks of getting up hours before the time I was accustomed to.

Waiting for the toddler to fall asleep I was out hard. I woke up at about 4:30 to sue the bathroom and despite trying to be quiet woke her up. After we both tried to go back to sleep for a while, she got up to go to the bathroom and decided I was already back to sleep. She then got up with the rest of the early to work household we were visiting. After she didn't return for a while I fell to sleep.

We had a great time with the kids the next day, all very interesting but not very blog-worthy in this venue. We took a drive to the site, they got to see the heavy equipment at a pretty close range. We drove a bit further and higher and caught some trees and had a snowball fight. Wife mentioned the long drive for so far no affection not even a kiss. I, having forgotten my toothbrush the night gave her a sincere but closed mouth kiss. We groped and fondled a bit when the opportunity presented. (rarely)

On the trip down the twisty, guard-rail-less, road, I felt my eyelids droop. I pulled over to rest them, and the kids begged to scramble again in the snow. As they left the van I realized we were alone at long last. I looked over at her and confirmed she had thought the same thing. Then I took a nap. Sad. Really, kind of pathetic.

After a brief respite, one of the kids clomped into and then back out of the van. Repeatedly. I pointed out to The Fellatio Artist that it was in fact Friday, and that in keeping with Fellatio Friday, I really should let her suck it. She gave me a bemusedly tolerant look, but in fact did bend over to my seat pretty agreeably once I unbuttoned my fly. She made a good effort but the vertigo of the road took its toll on her. The proximity of the kids took a toll on me. Eventually she sat up and I continued the stimulation on my own as she watched and occasionally gave it a lick and a promise as she called it. At some point one of the kids came over to the van, then crossed behind and came unexpectedly right to my window.... If not for his short height and quick reflexes on my part, he would be talking about that in therapy for years.

So, she made the 450 mile round trip for a quick kiss, and got the short end of the bargain trading it for half a blow job.

This job is seriously impacting our, ahem, intimate life.

No Contact Celibacy. - The Husband.

2008-01-29T16:40:00.000-08:00

Not even two hand touch above the waist. Internet's down at home. Vonage is forwarding calls to my cell phone wearing down the battery and subjecting me to bill collectors...

Spousal Maintenance. - The Geek

2008-01-28T18:53:00.000-08:00

I had been a couple of hundred miles from home for all of six days. This, I think, may have been the longest we have been apart for 15 years. We kinked by chat and by phone to good effect, but it isn't quite the same as the touch, taste, smell, sight and sounds all at once.

I spent 12 hours on a piece of heavy equipment on Saturday and had wifey convinced that I had more sense than to make the trip home without at least several hours of rest. I did have the sense to be extra careful and mindful of fatigue. I had already packed my car the night before, so when the Mr. Slate blew the whistle, I slid down the dinosaurs neck and dashed to the car. Sticking my bare feet through the cut-out in the floor of the rock-mobile , I yabba-dabba-doo'd on out of there.

My best E.T. for the trip so far has been 2.75 hours. This time I took my time and went slow partly to conserve gas, partly the car (which is overdue for an 1/2 shaft), and mostly my life. Much as I appreciate an adrenaline fueled dash through the twisties, realistically, my reflexes would not have been optimum. I got out of work about a half hour early, and delayed calling home for the rest giving me a one hour head start. I mumbled a series of tasks that I would be doing in preparation for rest and the trip the next day as I coasted down a grade with the engine off, muting the phone as cars and trucks roared by the other way. I found myself in a pretty hazardous situation when she got a little chatty and I lost my inertia on an upgrade and rolled to a stop. I begged off and attempted to re-start. Bad relay. I tried to back over to the shoulder, but this spot had about six feet between the guardrail and the lane, no good. Flashers on, eyes on the rear-view, I banged under the dash at the offending relay, curses and prayers in equal measures. It started.

From then on, I left it running and dodged and weaved every time she called. I made up errands on top of errands. By the time I got around to asking her "What are you wearing?" I had my hand on the knob and was able to see that yes, she is in fact wearing ugly pajamas.

I had in my mind holding back my animal desires and enjoying some soft gentle lovemaking. Later she mentioned that she had envisioned freshly done hair, sheets, make-up and lingerie for my homecoming and slow languid intimacy. The problem with both plans is we had been getting progressively kinkier with each nights phone call, and its hard to put kink back in the box. The rough and dirty butt-sex and slurpy fellatio of our phone-sex was actually not too far from the actual events.

Be careful what you role play, you might find yourself bent over in the shower, soap in your eyes cycling through the third of fourth iteration of ass to mouth.

Phone Sex - The Husband

2008-01-24T14:03:00.000-08:00

I really really like to audible stimulation. From a low moan, to a mewling, to a gasp, to a rich fantasy with lots of detail.

A couple of days ago I send her some naughty pictures with me in a fedora, an open shirt, boots and a smile. I found that coordinating the self-timer with my somewhat camera-shy unit kind of difficult. Out of habit, I tensed my abdominal muscles even though I no longer have what could be described as a gut to suck in. I ended up with an odd goofy expression in most of the shots. I resolved to to better. On a friends blog, she mentioned that something about a man's pants down around his ankles, exposed and vulnerable excited her so I was thinking of taking a picture or video clip like that.

I was just so engaged in visual and physical acrobatics when my wife called. I explained what I was doing and mentioned that I wasn't getting the full attention and cooperation of the star of my production in that relatively cold room, and could she make like a fluffer, verbally.

She did an began some description of her time with the new dolphin vibe, and engaged in a little digital enhancement on her end which improved the sound quality by the moans her digits stroking her pussy elicited. I got a couple of video clips and thought I was close to er, drenching the camera at a couple of these 15 second clip intervals, but found that when ever I got into my left brain to set the camera, I'd have to begin the build-up mentally again. Physically the actor was on stage ready to perform, but he tends to like to give very long performances and isn't very good at fill in work and quick action stunts.

My wife shifted gears a bit and began to spin a lovely tale that featured some fictionalized version of some our online acquaintances. This encouraged me over to the twin bed in my small, spartan work-camp domicile. I kept the camera at hand and occasionally lazily shot a picture here a video clip there, but used a bit of the artistic right side of the brain. This didn't seem to cause the stop and start feeling of that tantalizingly delicious sequence of sensations that seems to build, and tickle, and constrict and engorge, and eventually release in a usually barely anticipated orgasms. "I was cleaning it and it went off!" always seemed an apt description to me.

This time, camera more or less ready, set to vid clip, aimed in the general direction, I watched fascinated as this time, with her melodic whispers and lush story caused me to as best I can describe it, spring a leak. I didn't feel quite the usually holding back then surging urgency. It was nice and gentle and building to a gentle pleasant liquid warmth. It was an amazing amount of pr-ejaculated, forming at the tip then gently tickling down the head, hanging on the ridge then racing down the shaft. I watched in the view screen amazed this was on the camera until I realized it was on the camera (screen) not in the camera (recorded.) I hit the button and got a 15 second clip. I am burying this clip in a much older post, lest the sight of a cock in the post without a mouth on or near it offends those, who like I have an irrational revulsion to such. I mean why is it fascinating to watch balls tighten then an explosion of all over a cum-slut's outstretched tongue and face, but by it self it seems, well, gay? I dunno, but the feeling is what it is.

The night before that we had had some conversations that may have violated some obscure vulgarity clause in F.C.C. regulations, I hadn't completed so there was some stored up potential energy and matter in the flow. It came out thicker and with slightly more volume than is typical for me.

I remember a sperm count test..the girl actually said to me "Is that all." I wasn't being tested for quantity, but quality. Feeling small I wanted to say, that maybe some got absorbed by the long length of their journey out. A surgery and siring 4 more kids since has convinced me that guys that brag about how they will flood you with copious quantities of cum might have more protein on offer, but a little dab will do you as it were, procreatively speaking.

I thought she had heard me when I told her, "...And now, SLEEP..". when I came. Evidently she did not realize I was 'done' so to speak. Tirelessly, she weaved a plot that had me involved in the voyeuristic and exhibitionist aspects to the story. She teased on as I dressed, pulled on boots, clomped down the 100 yard length of the hall, across the gravel over to the cyber cafe and uploaded the clip. She said later why didn't you stop me when you came. I explained that being aroused again as I walked was thoroughly enjoyable as was the tale itself. as she finished I had my ear speaker on its lowest setting and I hope she wasn't entertaining the troops as it were.

So I stripped; she talked; I came. I uploaded a clip.

Part-time Perving. -The Husband

2008-01-23T21:13:00.001-08:00

I realized a few months ago that I didn't just need a part time job to make ends meet, I suddenly realized that I HAD a part-time job, I needed a full-time job, preferably with benefits. I located one that pays 10-20% of the approximate hourly rate I gross in my profession. It, however pays 2000% of the benefits. I have had none for nearly 8 years, and paid through the nose for health insurance for the 4 years before that. Suffice it to say, I have put my profession on the back-burner and have joined a large multi-national concern doing a blue collar job in a fairly high risk environment.

This job requires a 450 mile round trip, and will feature 7 contiguous 12 hour shifts once I complete training. Necessity dictates I live at the job site. It is a comfortable, but spartan barracks I live in now. It has an internet cafe, and a decent cafeteria. Small private rooms and communal baths.

I have found that pervy friends with full time jobs are harder to sync with when I have a full time job myself. I find I am hungry for emails in my box. and disappointed when there are none. The company blocks some sites that are clearly sexual in nature, but seems to ignore such content on blogs. Fortunately not only can I reach mt own, I can reach most of the blogs on my blog roll here, so far except Kinkerbelle and Atlanta Bondage. I miss the beautiful, kinky photography.

I have, in my boredom started a forth blog, the premise of which is what interests a 40 year old guy has in chatting with girls 1/2 his age, and more interestingly, why they would find the exchange worthwhile. I don't intend to link it here as its intended as a stand-alone blog.

Meanwhile, The Fellatio Artist has no cock to suck. Never fear though she is busying herself. Of the activities in my absence I am privy to, she is receiving increased email traffic from those willing to provide comfort to a week on week off widow, she is diligently testing a sex toy for Eden's fantasy, and has herself started a blog of her individual desires and pursuits sexually with likely a little more flare towards some creative license, then the straight real-life accounts here. There may well be some real life exploits there but she'll have the luxury of couching int in the mask of fiction if she chooses.

Together has been more difficult. She took some beautifully seductive photos today. We have had a few interesting telephonic exchanges, perhaps worthy of their own post here, and we have been naughtily flirtatious online.

I was updating a couple of the blogs as she gets the wee one to sleep and I am expecting my phone to ring anytime now for a repeat of this afternoon's delight.

Sugams 115

2008-01-22T12:47:00.000-08:00

Aradia Ardor courtesy of My Fetish Diary.

The best of this week’s blogs by the bloggers who blog them. Highlighting the top 3 posts as chosen by Sugasm participants. Want in Sugasm #116? Submit a link to your best post of the week using this form. Participants, repost the link list within a week and you’re all set.

This Week’s Picks

Debauched nothings
“You promised me you’d give me your cock.”

Sex Trophies

“Inside the drawer are two pair of panties.”

Who gets to talk about sex?
“I was thinking the other day about who gets to talk about sex and sexuality.”

Mr. Sugasm Himself

Cashback

Editor’s Choice

The houseboy’s rebellion

More Sugasm

Join the Sugasm

See also: Fleshbot’s Sex Blog Roundup each Tuesday and Friday.

(Sugasm participants should re-post all the links above within a week. The following links may be excluded as long as you include all the above links.)

Erotic Writing and Experiences

About Chantal, now…

CyberGirl goes beyond amazing

Lady Chatterley’s Ruf

My New York Indiscretion

Off on the right foot

Table Top

Tonia (Part 2)

The Train

Valentine.

Walking Home In Her Panties

Sex Humor

A joke

Thoughts on Sex and Relationships

Because.

Bragging rights and the name game

Circumcise Me

An Eco-Sexy New Year

I mean this in a caring way

A Time For Sex Ed Innocence

An unexpected sexy anniversary

The Way I Like It

Sex Work

Keeping It In The Family II

What Do You Look Like, Rose?

NSFW Pics & Videos

Aradia Ardor

The Cam Lover is lonely and needs rough sex with a new doll

Crystal Klein super hottie

Kyla Cole

Missy Nicole - I’m Bored

Sex News, Reviews & Interviews

Adult Entertainment Expo 2008

Dana DeArmond Submits To The Training Of O (Bondage, Forced Orgasms)

Fetish Fair Fleamarket recap

Harmony HotMovies Interview

Jamye Waxman Wants You to Find Your O Face

BDSM & Fetish

Effervescent

Flavours of Pain

Half-Nekkid Toe Licker

The houseboy’s rebellion

LA Story: the night I learned to f-u-c-k

Padme amidala: My history of blowjobs

Recovery

Sexy porn turns into a sexy mental fantasy

Spanked Her Off to Work. - The Husband

Trick or Treat

(The Worst?) Profile of the week

Fellatio Friday Again

2008-01-18T06:43:00.000-08:00

Here is Fellatio Friday #4, your gateway to hot and spicy blowjob-related posts as submitted to The Fellatrix by their authors. To join the fun and contribute to Fellatio Friday #5, please read the Fellatio Friday participation instructions. Here are this week's submissions:

Mischief, by Dirty Thirties

My History of Blowjobs, by Padme here at The Fellatrix

Phallic thoughts and memories, in a possibly incoherent order, by Queenie at The diary of a Sex Kitten

Confessions: My First Blowjob, by Selena Kitt

The Morning Lick, Part II, by Dirty Debbie at Debbie's Dirty Little Diary

Work Time Fun, by Blowjob Babe at Stroke, Suck, Swallow

The Art of the Ambush Blowjob, by Hamlet at Hamlet & Lorali's Pornotopia

Slutty Slutty Wednesday Part I, by Slutty Wife at The Fabulous Adventures of a Slutty Wife

Hanna and Mr. Darcy, at Stick & Giggle

The last two are a two parter, and can be considered together for voting purposes:

"68" - The Wife, by The Fellatio Artist

"75" - The Husband, by The Geek

Review of the Rider. -The Husband.

2008-01-16T18:54:00.000-08:00

The Jollie Rider we won on AAG's blog came amazingly fast. Apparently these little beauties are manufactured not only in the U.S.A. but more to the point nearly in our backyard. I wanted to give my take on it from an, um, outside perspective:

I help her ease it in, didn't even bother with lube and she reported no discomfort. I pictured the little vibe button sticking out of her va-yay-yay to change the speed setting. She swallowed it whole. I didn't want to say anything that might worry her, make her tense up and removal any more difficult, but secretly I was a little worried about how one finds the little holes in the sides to extract it later, but I figured we'd cross that gap later.

Before it disappeared I did have the presence of mind to put it in and switch it on to high (three clicks.) She reported it felt "nice" not orgasmic but nice. I stroked her a little bit externally and she jumped a bit. I moved in for a closer look. Much closer.

She started to protest, having been ambushed at the door straight from work with a new toy and not having had time to ...well you know....women like to freshen up a bit before a date. with the first swipe of a tongue tip she seemed to absolutely forget she was about to protest.

She was arching up and clamping thighs around my ears, and moaning and humming. I have recently worked on a technique of gentle nibbles at just the right spot at just the right frequency and if I'm lucky I can get her to string together small orgasmic waves for several little ripples.

In this case it looked to me from the outside like she was 'riding' one continues wave.

She tried to explain the feeling to me later (and I'll let her speak for herself here) but the gist of it was the vibrations got her to a place where she felt she urgently needed me doing what I was doing.

Seems the ultimate couples toy if it intensifies the desire for what the partner is doing. We have a friend who is bashful about receiving and unlike my wife, not easily orgasmic. this sort of thing might be just the thing.

She continued to wear it and claimed it was not orgasmic in and of itself. I cheated and made a few lusty grabs in near public to instant orgasms. At one point she had her first orgasm from the toy alone, and then the anticipation of when and if it would hit unexpectedly again drove her to others.

I couldn't hear a thing through her jeans, but could easily feel the vibrations when I cupped her pussy with my hand. If you are as enamored as I am at putting foreign objects into a woman this thing will fascinate. Oh, and by the way apparently the extraction was no problem. I am curious how that is accomplished so I will have to watch that part of the process next time.

Rider Arrival. - The Husband

2008-01-16T13:34:00.000-08:00

So I was finishing up the previous entry and two things arrived.

First was an assignment notification in our email from Eden's It should be here in a few days.

Next was a big brown truck with a modest plain looking box. Inside was a purple lumpy kidney shaped item. The engineer part of me had to check it out I found it has a little removable bullet vibe with watch style lithium ion batteries. Removing the battery safe strip I found that it has three settings. buzz, Buzz, and BUZZZZZZZ. I think she's going to like BUZZZZZZZZZ. I need an actual vagina to stuff this thing in for the next phase of product testing.

I called her to tell her its here already. She is excited to try it. She pouts that I'll probably take it away from her and hide it. Not a bad idea, that. ~evil grin~

Reunited and it Feels So Good.. -The Husband

2008-01-16T11:44:00.000-08:00

...I picture Peaches and Herb playing in the background....

Mr. Wiggles has been M.I.A. in our messy bedroom for at least a couple of weeks.

As high praise of my recently acquired advanced cunnilingus technique, she reports that she hasn't been as desperate to find him as she might have been.

Still, she complains it would be nice to have him, especially as my new job is going to take me out of town for a week at a time. She mentioned it last the other night when I went to sleep owing her one.

Yesterday, we got an email from Eden's Fantasy approving our writing sample and putting us on the list to review some adult toys. Dildos and vibes, and plugs, oh, my! We have grabbed our first toy from them and pending approval, we shall be working on vibrantly reviewing it.

The cavalcade of toys doesn't stop there friends. Oh, no! I have greedily put in for every piece of kinky swag that she offers in her occasional contests on Always Aroused Girl's blog. Recently, we won! We are waiting for a Jollie Rider that looks QUITE entertaining.

So toys have been on our minds lately, not that the finger's tongues and penis or in anyway out of commission. A couple of toys are in for repairs, another is kind of anemically buzzing and most suitable for stretching exercises, and then there is the matter of the A.W.O.L. Mr. Wiggles.

After the afore mentioned spanky send off earlier that day, I had in mind a little pleasure with her pain. I often have her masturbate while I administer some not at all deserved but very much appreciated form of corporal punishment. I had in mind a spanking whilst she teased next to her clit with the little powerful buzzer.

I tackled the overdue job of emptying the wooden cradle that has become a catch-all next to the bed. No Mr. Wiggles.

Removed a couple of bags of empty Diet Dr. Pepper bottles from under the bed, no luck. I reached under a ledge on the nightstand and didn't see it. As I was raking the debris in to a pile with my fingers I felt it's hard plastic shell. It was smaller than I remember. My member TOWER over the little guy. Thats why he's strictly in charge of external play leaving the inside jobs to my cock.

She reached for it but I pocketed it, telling her she was going to have to earn her little reunion. Without any hesitation she called one of the older kids up to take the wee one to give us some alone time.

I recorded the moment for posterity as she stripped and gently lowered him to her pussy. The instant it touched she arched up off the bed. It was indeed a joyous reunion.

We had been looking through Eden's Fantasy's extensive Catalog and saw a flogger that looked interesting. Every the scrounge and fabricator, I made do with several doubled strands of soft stretchy jump rope. From the sound it made I worried that it was too much, she looked over with a hungry look that begged, more! So I obliged.

I also made use of a foam flip-flop and got a nice red hue on her bottom.

All in all , a good time was had by the three of us.

Spanked Her Off to Work. - The Husband

2008-01-16T11:36:00.000-08:00

As she gathered her purse, keys and such after a late lunch break, I noticed her ass was looking good in the size * jeans she borrowed from me. I intended to give her a little playful swat, it went a little harder than playful, a little lighter than sexual.

She gave a a barely audible moan of pleasure and steadied herself against the filing cabinet.

I took that as an invitation. I have her about 5 more swats in a deliberate, calculated fashion. A bit of a pause between.

Hard enough to sting my hand.

She smiled her thanks and started to head out the door again, then paused.

"Wait." she said, puzzled.

Reaching into her pants she said in surprise. "I am really, really wet!"

I reached in and confirmed her assessment. I lingered a little longer than necessary, and she left with a post orgasmic smile on her face.

"75" -The Husband

2008-01-14T00:22:00.000-08:00

I didn't do a very good job on my whole "orgasm denial" project. There was some bondage involved tough so I accomplished 1/2 my goals.

I initially got a bit distracted because a friend got her webcam up and running and I persuaded the wife to join me in watching. She, always more the participant than a spectator in most sports, gamely knelt before my horribly uncomfortable office chair and began some really devoted cock worshiping. The lighting was poor, the kids and or the cats kept stirring form upstairs, and there was the whole fellatee as director cum camera man cum key grip multitasking distraction. Wifey is going to be headed off to work in the morning with what she calls "cock ridge" on the back of her lips.

When the friend had to leave due to distractions on her end we had already moved on to desk-top fucking and I couldn't really see denying her any orgasms given her yeoman's work on her knees not to mention leaving her hanging the night before.

We decided to retire upstairs for some actual privacy as well as a more comfortable environ. Well, more comfortable for me anyway. After I located a broomstick and some duct tape she seemed decidedly uncomfortable. She does not believe that I can in fact engineer a solution that in fact foes immobilize her in such a way that she cannot reach orgasm with out my assistance. I did assist to, several times. I'm not going to go so far as to say she owes me ( like what? 6?) but I think were fairly even now. I figure 68+6=75

Tied and Denied. - The Husband

2008-01-13T15:04:00.000-08:00

A very good bisexual friend of both of ours has given me a few tips on the finer points of pussy worship. This woman began her sexual exploration with girls and was very intent on learning all she could about what brought pleasure to her partner.

One of the most useful things she taught me is that if a woman comes too hard too soon, everything gets sensitive and you can't continue as vigorously after that. Backing off a little just before orgasm lets them ride the wave in quieter, but more fulfilling bliss.

I tried it once and Wifey screamed "That's MEAN!" as I pulled away, Within an amazingly short time though I had through gentle nibbles and licks and pauses got her right on the knives edge and riding a very long orgasmic wave. Since then I have figured out how to just reach that place without backing off so far that you could even call it orgasm denial.

Today Wifey came up behind me as I was chatting with our bi friend. We were discussing how easily orgasmic my wife is and how that hardly seems fair in the cosmic scope of things as the friend and I seem to have to really work for our orgasms. I was saying I should tie her up and make her NOT cum. Wife just laughed, grabbed the seam of her jeans, rode it for less than 10 seconds and let out a sigh as she reached yet another orgasm.

She has learned a new BDSM word that delights her. S.A.M. for Smart Ass Masochist. She delights in the apt term. I don't take my capital D domme role that seriously either. As she says "If you can't laugh while he's all serious spanking your ass, what fun is it?"

When I pointed out that she is really asking for it, she says, "Promises, promises." perhaps a not-too-veiled reference to last night? She went on to assure me that no mater how I tie her up, she can still in some way writhe and wriggle out an orgasm. SHe has no idea the engineering I have in mind to remove all sensational possibilities from her flirty little pussy.

I'll let you know how it goes...

Negotiating a Sexual and Emotional Minefield. -The Husband

2008-01-12T11:30:00.000-08:00

In an earlier post I mentioned all of the subtext that went into a 5 minute blowjob.

There were several things that I realized later but missed at the time. I later came to realize that I was not very present in the moment. I was already in my mind imagining how parts of this was going to look on video. I also missed that she was using her loving supplication to reconnect with me emotionally. It worked even though I was unaware at the time it was needed.

This blowjob from a technical standpoint was superb. Emotionally speaking, even with my having my tracking radar off really did cause us to feel closer emotionally. I think in some ways it led to a cell phone conversation I had with her as I dodged heavy traffic and emotional tiger-pits as she opened up to me about some recent feelings she had had. Blowback from my obsessive tendencies are not unheard of in the past nor unexpected for the future. In the past it starts with an inch. Often she is aware, and if a bit apprehensive, not particularly concerned with a behavior or an interest. Over time though there is this cycle of my need to compartmentalize and keep secrets, and her self loathing (but well justified) need to check up on me.

In the past it has been unhealthy, me with my little secrets, her with a codependemt's anxiety about the "next shoe" to drop. We are trying some openness. I am trying to share as I go, she is trying to keep up. Recently, I had met a woman online that by coincidence lived a a state away that theoretically (if not actually) we could imagine a dashing trip to visit. Her interest aligned with a stated mutual interest that my wife and I had discussed and on an impulse, I gave her my wifes cell number after a quick call to my wife to insure that this was OK. Befuddled she said "OK?" and then realized she had no context no idea about who was going to call or what about and at work to boot, it just was pretty poorly though out. That got sorted eventually and she did enjoy quite a bit the experience, but it led to a phrase we now use.

Picking a town about 3 hours away from us and 1/2 way to that woman's town, my wife explained the situation thusly:

"It's like you are in standing on a corner in Winslow Arizona, telling me you have a date for us across state lines, and I should jump in the Soccer-mom-mobile and meet you there. With you driving the mid-life-crisis-mobile, there is no way I am going to catch up."

So now I keep trying to update the atlas as I call it. Keep her in the loop better. It hasn't helped that our twin laptops are dead. (F.U. HP!!** ) We used to sit side-by side online exploring kink together and posting sequential blog entries about how we viewed what we saw or did. Now we take turns distracting the kids and typing, surfing, flirting, and emailing. Not so much the couple activity that it was.

What was different about me being "out there" this time and her feeling anxious about it, was that She apparently found me to be approachable early, with the first flickers of suspicion, rather than waiting for confirmation. Often times she gives my enough rope to do myself seriously bodily injury when she steps on the rope before the last of it whizzes through the last piton. Great not to plummet off the face, not so pleasant the tight cinch when the rope goes taut.

The conversation this time went so well. She was able to express that she felt me being emotionally disconnected a little like when I have my little secrets. I was able to do an honest self-inventory and knew exactly what had set off alarm bells.

I had been talking to a mutual acquaintance the other day. There are some big red flag issues here. Unlike most people we talk to this woman is part of a local couple we have talked to. One of the few anyway that know they are local to us. In addition, even though we had talked to this couple as a couple and shared interests and such, it seems that more often than not it is I talking to her, with both spouses brought up to speed after the fact. If this was for example a planned meeting between the two couples, it would be a little awkward for everyone if say she and I showed up at the luncheon a couple of hours early and had footsies well underway before the spouses made it to the table. I find a lot of things about this couple and her specifically interesting. In many ways they are like us.

I was sitting home one morning recently wrangling the toddler, and ostensibly working from home. She was in her office ostensibly working. We began a round of emails about Have you ever?/ Would you ever? type discussion and it got pretty interesting.

I at first intended to mention (not every little detail, my wife has asked not to hear these things verbatim) to my wife snippets of our exchange, just enough for my wife to capture her essence.
I wasn't sure how I would tell her with out getting graphic.

The other minor complication was that as I realized I was thinking of one of her online friends as sort of a way to explain to her that my flirtateousness was in the same vein, I suddenly realized that I was rationalizing...If I am not doing anything wrong, why am I worried that she might "take it wrong" or "attach to much significance" to our flirty play.

So when my wife came home for lunch, I stayed mum. I am pretty sure why I did. It was a hotter thing to know these things about her and be one of so few people that do, than to share. I wanted her secrets for my own.

Keeping even small secrets shows, and she knows me well, she read me instantly. Not what the secret was but that there was one. This time, though, unlike other times I have been "caught" there was no blame, guilt, recrimination or shame. We just talked about making sure we connect with each other. It was actually a very sweet moment.

Ofttimes we will talk something like this out and then older issues wriggle in, or future projections rear a menacing shadow. This time we agreed to stop talking about it when we reach a feeling of peace, love and understanding rather than beat ourselves into emotional exhaustion. It is only now a couple days later that I write these things down to be a bit of a touchstone later.

Characterizing the hazardous negotiation of the web as a couple exploring our sexuality She was reminded of "Saving Private Ryan" when they were talking about a high density mixed type mine field. The quote was something about a long list of the sundry types of mines to be found there including "Those little wooden bastards that the minesweepers can't detect."

I sure would hate to take a Bouncing Betty at about crotch height.

**I used to love all things Hewlett Packard and own nothing but. I am typing this on a Hewlett Packard desktop with I kid you not a power supply duct-taped to the outside of the case, the p.o.s. factory installed one failed in like 23 months and the case layout so poorly thought out I cannot both have a CD ROM and a universal power supply installed. I could buy a factory replacement part that will fit the tiny space allocated, but why would I pay extra for poor quality? My HP laptops hard drive failed under warranty, but I had so much data on it, that I refused to send it back and paid full freight for a new hard drive and managed to make the hard drive from the old one function in an IDEE case. Multiple failures of the input socket on both laptops. Ive replaced the power input card in hers twice and repaired it a third time, Finally I gave up on them both and HP forever. It can't be a coincidence that all the HP equipment I have from over 5 years ago works and all the more modern stuff is broken. They need to re0invest some of their marketing budget back into their once well thought of engineering department. It isn't about talking about great products, it's about building great products gentlemen.

Third Weekly Fellatio Friday

2008-01-11T14:02:00.000-08:00

Here is Fellatio Friday #3, your gateway to hot and spicy blowjob-related posts as submitted to The Fellatrix by their authors. To join the fun and contribute to Fellatio Friday #4, please read the Fellatio Friday participation instructions. Here are this week's submissions:

And Zizz says, by Zizz at Verticaldancer

Sucking Rob, by Rex Romeo at Adventures in Erotica (this is my first M/M submission; scroll down to Jun 11th on his blog, 2007 to find and read it).

Highway Blowjob, at another new blog, MyNawyExploits

Sucking Master Anakin's Cock, by Padme at Journey to the Darkside

Oral Fixation, by Selena Kitt

The Schwanns Man Delivers, by Slutty Wife at The Fabulous Adventures of a Slutty Wife

Blowing His Mind, by jrm at My Husband's Slut

Afternoon Delight - The Wife, by The Fellatio Artist at Full Contact Monogamy

Please go to the Fellatrix and vote for your favorite authors!

Pharmacological Dissertation. -The Geek

2008-01-11T02:41:00.000-08:00

Not to belabor the point but I spent years on Prozac, and it resulted in a lot of frustration when you have an easily orgasmic, cum-slut wife, and you can fuck like a stallion, but not show her the slippery, shiny, stringy proof.

For the last eight months, I've happily allowed my serotonin re-uptake to happen as my own body decides, without the chemical inhibitor. This makes orgasm possible again. Sometimes even multiple times daily, but I don't believe I'll ever come close to the two year anniversary benchmark of eleven ejaculations in a 24 hour period. ELEVEN!

The first time I noticed this "side effect" nonchalantly described in Eli Lilly's insert as "various sexual side effects" wasn't sexual at all. I was on the treadmill at the gym. I had run for 20-25 minutes and wasn't feeling the horizon approaching of a runner's high. 35 minutes, then 40, 45...nothing. I sprinted the equivalent of 200 yards at the end, red-faced sweating, pulse throbbing in my temples. Nothing.

So, re-aligning my brain chemistry to a natural state and balance is a pretty big deal for me.

With Cum & a Smile on Her Lips. - The Husband

2008-01-10T22:02:00.000-08:00

That's how I sent Wifey back to work.

At the time, I was satisfied, my pipes having been cleaned but had no idea the levels of foreshadowing in this event. I was pleased with my videography. I was no less pleased that I had managed to cum in her throat. It's a bit of an exaggeration that she had cum on her lips, I was pretty deep in her throat when I came and when she invaded my mouth with her eager tongue seconds later, there wasn't a hint.

As she described, she gave me a great blow job. I would have cum in just the first couple of minutes If I hadn't decided to play Cecil B. DeMille with the digicam. I felt my balls tighten several times. I made no concerted effort to hold out because I actually wanted to surprise her with a mouthful MORE than I wanted to record the moment, but since often I have trouble 'getting there' if we are under a time crunch, I figured I'd grab a shot or two for Fellatio Friday.

In all the excitement of reaching orgasm in less than 5 minutes we had before she had to go back to work, I missed a lot:

I caught the look of rapt attention she sensed me approaching the edge. I missed that the thing that put me over the edge was when I looked down at her licking my balls and told her that the next time I have cock in hand on cam, I want her posed right there. Not very present in the moment was it?

I caught that her technique was smoother going all the way down in one motion instead of the reach the back of the throat adjust, and take it all in. I missed noticing that for the first time in EVER, something we did triggered her previously dormant gag reflex.

I caught that she was approaching her task with relish. I missed that she was feeling me a little emotionally disconnected the last day or so and was connecting with my soul as she was connecting with my cock.

I caught myself in the 'dominant role' I missed the subtle topping from the bottom cues that foreshadowed her first topping from the top she would do later that night as she subconsciously administered the salve of redemption through pain, rather than receiving as per usual.

And most of all I missed the foreshadowing that his blow-job, delayed from a lick and a promise unfinished one the day before, and hastily tossed of before an arbitrary Fellatio Friday deadline, that it was to be one of two fellatio to completion attempts in less than twelve hours.

From that 5 minutes elapsed time from dropping my pants to kissing her goodbye, there is a week's worth of blogging subtext.

High Speed Fellatio. -The Husband.

2008-01-08T20:12:00.000-08:00

It is kind of a cliche getting blown while driving. The reason something becomes cliche is because a lot of people do it. The reason they do it is it is pretty darn entertaining. If I can find it I'll have to embed the excellent version of this Heather from iDeepthroat.com did.

We have done this a few times. The first time I recall, we were either on our way to or from the grassy knoll. We had hopes to retrieve a Polaroid there, and were amazed to have found it in the dark.

We actually originally met in the rat's maze of Corporate America in a place featuring a million dollar view that included the Wrigley Mansion but an environment too cheap to even give us individual cubicles. It was two to a slot, with a 45 degree angle so you could pretend you had privacy.

Eventually, she transferred to the building across the street with no windows at all, but a nicer division culture. Our building had the better cafeteria, or at least Orlando was a better cook. She used walk across the grassy knoll then dash across a major thoroughfare, often in heels, to meet up for lunch. On one such trip she noticed a Polaroid, possibly tossed from a passing car. In a tight skirt and heels, she wasn't going to bend down and get it especially in case the perv who left it was watching to see who picked it up.

She mentioned it later that night when we were inflagrante of some degree. I thought it sounded hot. I can't remember why we took her car, as it had a bad alternator and there were concerns it might not make it there and back. Probably I had my engine pulled at the time. So off we went om a fool's errand, late at night in a light drizzle. We pulled up, she retraced her usual route in the dark and there it was. In my paranoia (cute to her at the time) I wondered if someone hadn't seen her daily trek and had planted it for her to find. Later, we spent a lot of time looking at the cock-stuffed visage, wondering if we knew the girl. Hard to say. We looked around carefully the next Popsicle Thursday, but no joy.

So, armed with some home made porn and some giddy ideas, we went to the nearest Walgreen's where I stayed in the car idling to nurse the battery along, as she dashed in and bought a Polaroid Camera. We had a vague idea of replacing the 'planted' or more likely tossed one with one of our own. I don't recall whether that plan came to fruition, but I do recall my first on-the-fly BJ.

She leaned over, I adjusted the seat back and my fly and she went after it like the young fellatio artist that she was. At some point she looked up and asked if anyone could see. I said no, but had the splendid idea of her removing her panties off, raising her skirt and getting her moon above the window ledge. This position did nothing to make her task easier but the angle and the dome light I switched on made my cries of "Don't stop! Some guy in a truck is looking down in..." a tad more believable. (I was lying.)

The next time I recall we weren't too far from home so waiting was certainly an option, but we were young, kinky and horny and web-cams weren't invented yet. I think the cop we passed had a good Idea what she was doing because he pulled us over. By the time I had "found a safe place to pull over" (read got my pants up from my ankles and sort of zipped.) she was belted in the upright position. Dizzy with kink, and the adrenaline of nearly getting cop, I have no idea what he said about why he pulled us over. A lane change or some such. He sent us on our way with a warning and a smirk.

My current ride cost the price of a minivan plus about $6,500. What I mean to say is I had to buy the minivan so I could justify the $6.5K on what my wife terms my midlife crisis. After said minivan purchase she did tell me that as long as the mid-life crisis didn't involve bleached blond and boobs, I probably could have had it anyway. SO of course I dumped another $3,500 in the car for a smooth-shifting trans and a limited slip differential. I can hit 110 by the end of the on ramp of the freeway by our house. So far we haven't christened it, and I've had it for 2 years.
The car is no virgin though I've embarrassed the odd penis-mobile costing 20 times as much, as well as two cops foolish enough to think pursuit in an their SUV's was a reasonable undertaking. The most sexual thing I've done is driving it in my underwear at 132 mph just to say I did.

It is a goal of mine to get blown either well above twice the speed limit, or perhaps during a 1/4 mile run. I don't think I can cum in less than 1/4 mile though despite the high level of excitement that might bring.

New Sugasm Submission.

2008-01-08T11:20:00.000-08:00

I have entered my post about Aural Sex into the Sugasm contest for this week.

There are some really amazing entries in the following posts. All are very much worth a read. For those that don't know about Sugasm, individual writers send in their best posts for the week and they are compiled in one place. Kind of a Kinky Digest. (Don't steal that copyright 1/8/2008, the Geek)

Sugasm #113

A Very Shibari New Year via Marky D. Sade

The best of this week’s blogs by the bloggers who blog them. Highlighting the top 3 posts as chosen by Sugasm participants. Want in Sugasm #114? Submit a link to your best post of the week using this form. Participants, repost the link list within a week and you’re all set.

This Week’s Picks

A Different Kind Of Authority For Sex Bloggers

“As we sex workers, sex bloggers, and adult business folks swim in our ponds or spin in our micro universes & connect with others, we continue to build authority.”

Of sex and strippers

“At one point she was straddling Girlfriend’s right leg, grinding her thigh against Girlfriend’s clit through her jeans.”

Wink Wink, Nudge Nudge

Her comments were something to the effect of, “No one wanted to see me twirl with tassels ~ on fire or not ~ when some girl was going to sit on stage and insert things into herself.”

Mr. Sugasm Himself

Kofola

Editor’s Choice

Interview with Paul Festa about circumcision

More Sugasm

Join the Sugasm

See also: Fleshbot’s Sex Blog Roundup each Tuesday and Friday.

(Sugasm participants should re-post all the links above within a week. The following links may be excluded as long as you include all the above links.)

Erotic Writing and Experiences

Aurel Sex. - The Husband

Cock Whore

Decibels

Dreams are funny things

The Erotic Review

I Love A Rainy Night

The night I was initiated on Frat Row

Opera Glasses

Score

Skin, breath, desire, rhythm

Uninvited

Yesterday’s Sweet Blowjob

Sex Work

Catalina loves Giving Spankings

NSFW Pics & Videos

Mizuki Horii

Andie Valentino (Twistys)

Half-Nekkid Thursday: View from MY Back Row

Mindy Main Sexy and Topless

A Very Shibari New Year From Marky D. Sade

Sex Advice

13 Ways To Use What You Have To Build Intimacy

Celebrate 2008: The Year of the Pussy!

Just Seeing My Girlfriend Turns Me On! Is This Normal?!

Resolve to Improve Your Sex Life in 2008

Thoughts on Sex and Relationships

2007 Wanking Totals

Discovering the Art of Masturbation

Hair-B-Gone

I fucked this guy once …without dirty talk!?!

Taking One For the Team

Sex News, Reviews & Interviews

The Hello Kitty Vibrator - Battery-Powered Evil!!!

Panties Second Only To Auto Industry

Real Doll Rentals

Working Sex: Sex Workers Write About a Changing Industry

BDSM & Fetish

All Tied Up and No Where To Go

Am I A Masochist?

Daddy Play

The Descent Begins

More piss slut practice

Rough Fuck

A Seven Orgasm Day

Two-thirds

Who knew Uncle Sam was kinky?

Orgasm Control through Reverse Psychology. - The Husband

2008-01-07T02:49:00.000-08:00

place holder, Ill get back to this.

basically It doesn't work but I keep trying it..:)

$20 Marital Aid. - The Husband.

2008-01-01T09:12:00.001-08:00

You know those late night one-of-kind, limited-time offers? I missed out of one of those last night. At 11:59 I missed out, forever. I put behind me for all time the opportunity to fuck a young girl. From now on it's nothing but M.I.L.F.'s. Never again will I have a chance at sub-forty-year-old pussy. (unless we seriously revamp the concept here and thats gonna require a move to our upcoming site, http://fullcontactpolyamory.blogspot.com. I don't think today, on her birthday, is the day to inquire about the future of that.

The toddler, cheerfully defiant all day, had not napped at all. She actually slept in her own crib. All night. In another room. (Sorry, Mrs. Eller for the multiple sentences beginning with a preposition as well as this parenthetical aside, but excitement overwhelms me.)

I brought the pizza paddle into the bedroom. This idea was veto'd with just a look. Pretty much the same evolutionary look described here in Selena Kitts' excellent post on modern Man. She also mentioned we would NOT be spending all night up all night waxing my legs. This wounded me slightly since I hadn't asked. (That day.) Although I have mentioned for over a week that I need some help with some of those hard to reach areas, but I digress.

She also declined my generous offer of the loan of one of my ball gowns. Even when upon inspection I realized that it was one that I had dieted out of and she into. She declined to wear it to bed as logic on New Years Eve dictates, choosing to wear her birthday suit. A word on her birthday suit. It was fabulous. She set a goal goal in August 2007, to be at fighting weight by August 2008. She is only 8 lbs from that goal having dropped 67 lbs since May 2007. She is a little pissed at me vis-a-vis weight loss success. Even though she has lost more weight than the fabulous Valerie Bertanelli OR me, she is pissed that I am fighting below my weight class by as many as 11 lbs. I hit my goal in October and continued my slide back to full-on-geek status. I decided that if she wasn't going to slide around the bed in taffeta, I would leave my size 6 sleeveless red prom dress in the closet. I did sneak it on for a peek in the mirror while she was showering, and let me tell you I do make one sexy bitch.

As regular readers her know, I am not a lesbian, but I do occasionally play one in bed. And I was in RARE form last night. It was her birthday, and since she had not told her fairly recent lesbian crush about her birthday, I felt I needed to carry on on behalf of the whole GBLT community in both welcoming in the new year and the second half of her life. One word. Cunnilingus. Or, if you prefer, two - Pussy Worship. I dove in with elan. Or, perhaps the cheerful enthusiasm of Ellen.

We own various means of playing music in the car, on computers, on the cable box, and somewhere in this hovel we have various components, combination receiver/DVD/cassette/8-track units or the like. Darned if I can locate one that works. We have had no music in the bedroom in forever save some mp3's and streaming audio or video through tinny speakers on the laptops. Santa's slutty, cock-sucking helper bought me a little CD-player boom-box for $20 at the place whose name is not spoken in polite labor friendly places. It has an analog tuner but fine digital sound from the CD player. She has burned various mixes lately including a disco-to-fuck by one. We have enjoyed that one, but oddly, have not fucked to it. Last night she popped in one that was just the most eclectic mix imaginable. The only criterion was that she say, "I love this song, why haven't I ever put this on a mix CD?"

I had forgotten how much fun it is to fuck/lick/suck/nibble to a beat. I marveled at my how fine my gentle control of her body has become as of late. I grinned as I got her to cry out just at the crescendo, or arch her back to the meter. Appropriately my very best work was to "Constant Craving", which come to think of it is probably written as music to dine by. She seemed to be floating after that one, and it was immediately followed by the hard grind of "Diseased", I had her quivering assent when I pointed coarsely, that despite my tender ministrations, I was still all man and could take her, roughly, at any point. Reminding her of my penchant for depravity. I was all threat though and mostly did so for contrast.

It was supposed to be all about her, but as usual, I REALLY enjoyed myself. I was surprised when she said, "I am sorry you didn't get off" after we wound it up at an hour and a half. I had to think back. There was a time on Prozac when this wasn't unheard of. I was surprised that I hadn't taken time to cum. Shrugging, I stand by my effort, despite the fact that her favorite thing to do sexually is to make me cum. I'll give her that gift later today.

Orgasm Permitted. -The Husband

2007-12-30T19:27:00.000-08:00

So, the Masochist says to the Sadist, "Hurt me." Calmly replies the Sadist, "No."

A recent innovation to my cunnilingus repertoire (limited though it may be) was orgasm denial. A bisexual friend of mine had explained it thusly: "Pay attention to when she is right on the edge of orgasm and then back off what you are doing. Give a little more- , let her taste the feeling, then back off again, and so on." The idea is that if you get her really pliable the lightest touch sends her over the edge and you guide her along the precipice for one long orgasmic wave. If this effort fails it is because she falls over that knife edge and has a massive orgasm, so either way, win-win.

The first time I tried this, she said during (AND after), "That's MEAN!" I explained the concept, leaving her unimpressed as she is multiply and easily orgasmic, so she couldn't see the point. She already surfs orgasmic waves without any science fair experiments thank you very much. It should be noted that on the previous occasion when the experiment 'failed' it was because of heightened sensitivity that caused a arch up off the bed massive orgasm, so no hot wives were harmed in the testing.

Tonight I was lewdly reaching under her skirt as she was attempting some graphic design work, I asked her what she was in the mood for tonight. "Orgasm denial," she blushingly said. "I thought you said that was mean." pressing the issue making it her desire, as images of her on her knees taped to a spreader bar, head down screaming into a pillow played through my mind. She verbalized it to may satisfaction about the time I got her panties around her ankles.

Well, I got the screaming into a pillow part right.

We snatched a few minutes of stolen time from the small one. I knew I hadn't the time to immobilize her. I simply told her to assume the position in my mind and to pretend she is bound. She did as she was told and I gave her a "Good Girl" as I lifted the skirt to expose her swollen lips and a very spankable ass. More on that later.

Wetting my fingertip, I traced the outlines of her labia like paint by number art. not exactly sure where I was going here, just looking to make her squirm while insisting she hold still. She did well, and was quite aroused as I traced her slit and opened and probed her petals, deliberately avoiding the places I know to be where she most needs it. She didn't seem frustrated, but I was getting a bit so myself, with a firm erection in my flannel pajamas still lazily attired in since the night before, no underwear to holster it, always feels a little silly to have a pole bobbing and tottering between one's legs.

I could resist no longer the urge to spank her up-turned ass, and smacked it a medium swat. She wriggled into it. I started slow, little swats, tattooing a pattern of even coverage of pink. I find she can take much more pain if the capillaries are already broken and spreading their sub-cutaneous endorphins. One swat on her now somewhat bony portion of her ass elicited a smile from her. Not that it did anything specific for her at that time, but because it was yet another affirmation to herself of the weight she has lost/ At some point as I ramped up the intensity on her right cheek, continuing to neglect the left, I remarked that her ass was stinging my hand a bit, and what did she think I should do about that? She suggested I find an implement to do some of the work for me. "Agreed", I said, "but what?", making her choose. "The belt," she said.

I by this time had my hard cock out pressed against her as I leaned over to hiss coarsely in her ear. Your hand is hot she said, I explained that was heat radiating from my cock pressing it into her side, lance-like. I explained that hurting her was getting me extremely aroused. "How sick is that?" I inquired. "Very sick," she said dripping with lust. I told her she could touch herself while I looked for the belt . (I had anticipated that might take a while. It didn't, but that didn't stop the slut from cumming twice before I got with in range again. SMACK, I said with the tip of the belt. "I didn't say," Smack! "to cum!"

Orgasm denial be dammed, I wasn't denying any of mine! I pressed my tip to her sheath and was annoyed she wasn't wetter. She truly has a Pavlovian response to cock-sucking. She hadn't sucked me at all here so her bell didn't ring I guess. ~shrug~ Pressing the issue, and my cock further I found that in fact that she had plenty of moisture stored in her, I just had to get past her dry, quivering lips. Maybe since she generally kneels to perform fellatio, i just drips from her drenched cunt. Here, I had gravity working against me. Lesson learned, I plunged on, now almost too wet. I considered pulling out and having her lick some of that excess pussy juice, but that seemed circular reasoning, as it would likely get her wetter. I just increased the length of each stroke coming farther out so as to air dry my cock a bit.

I watched fascinated as the two smacks on her right side revealed themselves perfect impressions of the slight taper of my belt's tip. I looked at her unblemished left side and decide to paint there a bit. Being right handed I pulled out so I could get a better angle and concentrate on my work. I gave her three stripes in quick succession starting at the bottom and working up. Unintended it looked like a feathered pattern of a birds wing like one of those eagle tattoos bikers like. Thrilled at my marksmanship, I got out the camera to take a picture, meanwhile she was masturbating from underneath, unbidden, I haven lost track of and all control of the very submissive I was currently beating. This kids, epitomizes ADHD. I told her if she was going to persist in that she needed to at least count off her orgasms.

"How many so far?" I asked, ever keeping score as men tend to do. "I don't know..." she trailed off.

Reaching for a hank of hair at the base of her neck I pulled her face around. "What do you mean , "you don't know"? You were there?" I chided. "How many?"

.............................."Five, I think..."

"You think?" I said tightening my grip. "It's f FIVE!" she corrected herself. "

"Well count them off, then." I said realizing about now that I was doing exactly the opposite of what she had asked for...hence the joke at the top. "I will allow you one minute to reach each". I added needing to maintain some sort of semblance of being in charge of this train wreck of a BDSM session.

Back to my work, I didn't let her distract my aim when in quick succession I hear "6, SEVVVIN..." Losing interest in her orgasms entirely (she doesn't actually need me there, ~shrug~) I watched as over thinking it made the pattern I had in mind a little off. Kinda like how even the best basketball player can miss the mark at the free throw line. I, a novice at swinging a belt, resolved simply that I will do better next time I have a fresh unmarked canvass to work with.
It turned out pretty cool I thought to myself quite geekishly, dunno yet how the pictures turned out.

I don't really remember much about how it is that I came to be fucking her missionary style looking at the glazed look of pain and satisfaction in her eyes, but I do remember that I did have a handful of hair twisted through my fist when I pumped out my own singular orgasm.

I'll make it up to her the next time she asks me, "Make me cum?"

The Inaugral Fellatio Friday is Here!

2007-12-28T04:25:00.000-08:00

Long admirer's of The Felatrix...We of course jumped on the chance to submit some posts to her first ever (of many to come) Fellatio Friday. We thought it was such a grand Idea that we each submitted posts for consideration. It just hit and our traffic count is through the roof...

Here are the posts from all the participants:

Fellatio Friday #1

Here is Fellatio Friday #1, your gateway to hot and spicy blowjob-related posts as submitted to The Fellatrix by their authors. To join the fun and contribute to Fellatio Friday #2, please read the Fellatio Friday participation instructions. Here are this week's submissions:

All This Jew Wants to Do is Blow YOU for Christmas, by a Slutty Wife.

the start of my secret kink/fetish, at My Cock.

Now It’s Face To Face (Delight Part II), by Dirty Debbie.

Just the Head ... from Ambient Storm's Provocative Persiflage

How to Get a Discount, by Jen at Dirty Couple in Virginia

One of my Finer Blowjobs, by The Fellatio Artist at Full Contact Monogamy

Phoebes Guide to Oral Sex, by Phoebe at www.astr.org

First Fellatio, by The Geek at Full Contact Monogamy

Tip #4, from Blowjob Babe at Stroke, Struck, Swallow

That First Tingle of Attraction is Delicious - The Geek

2007-12-28T01:23:00.000-08:00

The look returned, the click of a pair of heels, the swish of a skirt, the pout of a lip, the word read, the wonderment of what promise that person holds. I was thinking about this tonight as I played a silly little word association game. There were few people on, and a relatively new poster was posting. I know nothing of her at all, not the most minimal of description. SO far I see only that she likes soulful music and uses soft and gentle terms when associating terms on a suggestive thread. Not much to go on, but still a little tension, drawn taut makes one feel electric doesn't it?

Next when that person took their sleepy self to bed I meandered through other threads till I happened upon a thread of a person probably on the other end of the age spectrum that I have long admired. I happened to have something to say on the subject and in a whimsical mood, posted a Seuss-esq response. When it seemed to elicit a giggle I pressed on with more rhyme then a haiku. I found myself wanting praise for my sophomoric poetry. Here the attraction is her rapier wit and better, her smiling at mine.

It makes me think of what would have attracted me to my wife, my soul mate if we had met 17 years later and online instead of in "real life". Without question her quick mind, sense of humor and mad typing skills. There is a thread where you drop a letter and add a letter creating a new word. I play with her over her shoulder. Not only does she solve the puzzle faster than I, she can often link the word to the previous word in some other way. How sexy is that? Then there is the whole open-minded thing. Not every woman, nor even every bi-sexual woman is going to "get" the sexuality of a heterosexual crossdresser. She is open enough to people that i can easily see confiding such a thing to her (if I had known it about myself) while still strangers. Then there is that flirtatious nymphosity...what more could a man want?

No Wonder, I Woke Up Sticky! - The Geek

2007-12-26T20:45:00.000-08:00

One of my favorite features of Site Meter is the listing (if any) of what it is that was typed into the search engine prior to arriving at our site. Sometimes they are pretty outlandish. I find that if someone arrived at out site, it is because our site ranked high in Google. I have no idea about the logic Google uses, but it seems we do well because we update frequently and have actual unique content. (Meaning not cut and pasted from elsewhere, not that the ideas maybe aren't ones others have had. I hope. I hope our experience is that unique!) I save these up as I see them in a post that I first mentioned these hits. It's getting harder to catch these beauties as our traffic count increases since I can only see the last 100 hits (out of about 225 today so far)
Today's gem was: "masturbated a man off when asleep, clips". Makes me squirm a little bit to have woke up from a nap and read that! ~smile~ I was thinking of making two lists, one that I am astounded with all the smut on the web on a given subject, like say "Pussy Worship" that we are ranked as high as we are. The other would be the unlikely to the absurd that results from combinations of words appearing in posts but not at all in the order the search suggests. To illustrate: the search today hit because of this post:

Full Contact Monogamy: Yay, me!...I masturbated... The Husband.
(Well I made up the man meat part but you get the idea. ... I didn't even get up in disgust to clean up my mess, just fell asleep in my sweats, knowing that ...
fullcontactmonogamy.blogspot.com/2007/12/yay-mei-masturbated-husband.html - 81k

In no particular order except as they tickled my funny bone, lets start with the ones that are maybe relevant, but seems shouldn't lead so directly to our modest blog.

Relevant but Why us? (Over others):

-"Wife gives head" seemed apt, finally, she does in fact do that AND we write about it, Bingo!

-Another rather specific Google search: "with his * cock in my mouth" found us.

-"She was grabbing my cock" seems a reasonable search to find us.

-My personal favorite on several levels is: "tonguing his ass"

-We were #3 out of 1/2 a million possible sites on a Google search for "pussy worshipping husbands"

-in the top 40 for the search "was fucking me so hard"

-Top 10 for "my first taste of cock" and also "look up my skirt with no panties"

-#2 most likely on Google search: "his finger up my ass" +husband

-Someone waded through 211 previous entries for "wife blowjobs" before settling on our blog.

- Over the course of several days "pussy worship wife" and "pussy worship husband" appeared. Followed by "geek and pussy worship"

-"Naked up my skirt" ranked our blog at the top of the Google's list.

-"Look at my cunt up my skirt" yielded a visitor. Sadly no view of her cunt was extant on the bog from the vantage post of looking up her skirt.

-"My wife loves Oral"....Why, yes. Yes, she does! (Lucky me!) She is even learning to enjoy receiving it too!

-"Wife enjoying pre-cum" whats not to enjoy about my sweet slippery goodness?

-"He fisted my cunt" well, on occaision.

-Yet another search of our worship practices. This one, "Pussy Worship wife hubby" suggests that perhaps we should find a nice pussy that we can both use together?

-"First Fellatio" Yep, she got that cherry too!

-"wife started licking and sucking" is indeed how she generally starts.

-"Wife Cock Worship"

-"I love the taste of his cum"

-"Quick Orgasm" GOTTA mean her, not me, but I am working on that skill.

-"her puckered rosebud" So I write this phrase once and we are number one. I feel like a stud.

-"hubby shaves wifes pussy blog" Hmm top 10 out of 1/2 million. Who knew this risky activity was so popular?

-"Fellatio". 48th???? Oh she deserves so much more accolades than that!

-"my husband" "between my legs" I am mildly insulted that Our blog was like 118th for this paired set of phrases. I shall have to spend more time between my wife's legs I guess!

-"my wife cant keep her hand off my cock" If only!

-"WIFE ENJOYING CUM" apparently very enthusiastically if capitalization is any gauge.

Irrelevant, but fun:

-A fellow Blogger used the search bar to find "goal setting, parenting, and health" I hope we were helpful with that!

-"Wife pumping strangers cock" found us. This is news to me. Maybe I should read her posts more closely? Another quite specific one: "spank,smack,owww, he spanked her naked ass as her lips sucked the cock in her mouth"

-" fucking hot blushed girl flipped her over" dunno if fucking is an adjective or a verb here.

-In the top 20 of 121K for results of search "husband loves to film another mans cum in my pussy"

-Top 10 for "mr. wiggles" dildo. who would search that? and 1200 similar entries???

-"Fisting the Husband" let me just say OUCH! we will NEVER be doing this.

-"My slutty skirt"...hmm dunno, do they mean her's or mine? I tend to crossdress in sluttier skirts than what she might typically wear..

-Google UK had us in the top 20 for "trying to look up my short skirt was making his cock hard" I SURE hope they meant her skirt not mine. I mean I have nice legs i a skirt but looking up under my tartan spoils the effect.

-"picture girls goofy silly giggly cocksucking sluts" (We are #1 for that by the way)

-"Husband Wife Fellatio" We will NOT be doing that. Wife Girlfriend, Wife Cousin, maybe.

-Somebody wanted: "Husband and Wife crossdressing pics" I guess I could loan her a suit to complete the picture. Or since this reader was from New Zealand, is it crossdressing when we rotate the other direction and I wear manly clothes and my wife goes en femme?"
-Ice Rocket found us for "shaving" dunno if that is for her nether region, my legs or my coin purse. ~scratches~

I guess with 40-50K words 'penned' in 6 weeks there are bound to be some matches.

Sugasm #111

2007-12-25T00:36:00.000-08:00

The best of this week’s blogs by the bloggers who blog them. Highlighting the top 3 posts as chosen by Sugasm participants. Want in Sugasm #112? Submit a link to your best post of the week using this form. Participants, repost the link list within a week and you’re all set.

This Week’s Picks

Fighting The Dominatrix Stereotype

“She wanted a man for a boyfriend, not a doormat.”

From afar

“Say my name, over and over.”

Steely Dan*

“My body is flexed, and held in place, and the onslaught is relentless.”

Mr. Sugasm Himself

Pic(k) of the Day

Editor’s Choice

A Brief History of (My) Fucking

More Sugasm

Join the Sugasm

See also: Fleshbot’s Sex Blog Roundup each Tuesday and Friday.

(Sugasm participants should re-post all the links above within a week. The following links may be excluded as long as you include all the above links.)

Erotic Writing and Experiences

Catalina loves the Best of Catalinaloves.com

Dirty

Dirty (A Fantasy)

Dream…?

Following dreams part 2

In-Car Entertainment - EastEnders vs Cake

Kitty

“Life is a bowl full of cherries”

Lines In The Sand

Lunch Date

Raw Pussy

A safe-harbor fuck for the holidays

Skin on Skin

Tingle Belle

“We”….(the final Part)

NSFW Pics & Videos

Cock Size

Defiance

Do whatever you want, but…

Happy Holidays From HotMovies

Julie Ordon

Sex News, Reviews & Interviews

Fuckingmachines.com

Headshot - Blue Artichoke Films

Interview with Jill Eisenstadt about wedding night sex

Sex Toy Review: Hitachi Magic Wand

Slave Bells Ring, Are You Listening? XXX-Mas Looms.

BDSM & Fetish

Bad Girl II

Blood Red Saturday Night

Control and Letting Go - The Wife

Long Distance Scenes

My Delicious Fetish

Sex Work

Sex Worker Solidarity: Dallas From Babeland

Thoughts on Sex and Relationships

All About “Squirting” (Female Ejaculation)

Good Sex Hunting

Lists

One year on

Three Christmas Wishes

Was she turned on?

Yikes, Groupies!

Sex Advice

How to Give a Tantric Lingam Massage

Cam Testing 1-2-3.... The Husband.

2007-12-24T17:28:00.000-08:00

So, we bought a cheap web cam the other day....Scintillo happened to be on when I was fiddling with it figuring it out. Given that the wife was sans make-up but with cold sore and so not in the mood, I kept it trained on the bedspread. He got treated to a lovely view of the spread and was kind enough to confirm that yup its a cam. Not bad $30 for two in the clearance at Mart du Wal.

Next attempt was as mentioned below I met an extremely articulate girl that must have had phenomenal S.A.T. scores which seemed exactly the right sort of fit for a text intensive watch-us-on cam session. My wife didn't know whether I was serious or not, but went along with it in role play fashion as we pictured what this girl might be like in person. Neither of us have so much as a picture or even a description of her, but I find her compelling. The intensity of the role play combined with having the girl waiting and willing in the background like our own personal porn star fluffer meant I didn't last long enough to explain to her I was very much serious about having found us a young sprite.

By way of background as to why she never knows for sure just when I am serious, I have a way of crying wolf, well and actually making wolfish noises in the background. I delight in surprising her or even better getting her adrenaline up for a surprise she isn't quite ready for. Once for example I rented a room at the very hotel that I lost my virginity in for our one year anniversary. I pretended that we were just going to go there to eat a piece of our frozen wedding cake as tradition dictates. I had previously left our room open a crack and making out in the hall with her, I leaned against our door and pretended it had just come open and it was not actually our room, she protested but only mildly when I drug her over to the bed, saying lets just have a quickie as long as this room is empty.

Another time we had been role playing a threesome. I tied her up then told her hang on a minute, and pretended to sneak to the door, let someone in and spoke in hushed whispers to them, she almost bought that one.

So the next day, my linguistically gifted new friend was online at the same time as a blogger we have met online recently, the blogger's husband was dragging her away from the computer for some cunnilingus which seemed a fine way to spend the afternoon. I persuaded my wife to pawn off the toddler. She was not feeling primped and ready for her close-up so I didn't push until she was in the throes, then I reached for the cam..It wasn't there!! I persuaded her to masturbate while I looked for the missing cam and finally came up with it. Switching it on with a hurried hello to my friend I treated her to a very blurry, barely discernible fuck-fest that at least appeared to be flesh toned. Made a note to dig up a tripod.

Today, I was online with an exhibitionist friend and the blogger from the day before. I mentioned that I'd show both of them my cock except I was babysitting and that seemed inappropriate to say the least. They both expressed enthusiasm. when next my wife wandered into the room I asked if she wouldn't mind if she took the toddler so I could show them my dick..Yeah right, she said. Partly because what an audacious thing to ask ones wife, but mostly she knows "The Mighty Cudgel" is camera shy. WHen I assured her that I was actually serious, and that I thought it might be good masturbatory therapy, she acceded. I'm a little dumbfounded that a) I could ask such a thing, and b) that she would acquiesce.

SO well, I did, like a stallion...I think the camera must be slightly convex, or else I was awfully excited...afterward, when she pointed out the incongruent nature of me being able to rip one off on cam while feeling silly with her in person. We discussed maybe I should do a close circuit feed for her. Yes, it is beyond weird, but we are pushing the psychological frontiers of my tortured psyche. So back in the room and alone, I found that I felt not silly at all. She tells me for 16-17 years that I have a lovely cock and it takes a couple of strangers echoing the sentiment to internalize it. So I'm going at it she is cheating by teasing my balls and perineum and I am OH so close despite having just tossed one off, and the kids knock on the door wanting to drop the needy toddler back in our laps...oh well anothe time. Important thing is I CAN do it another time.

So cam, $30. Doing more good than years of therapy, $Priceless.

Playing with Fire. - The Husband

2007-12-24T16:45:00.000-08:00

She said, "...that begs a psych evaluation." I have had a few of those, the most thorough being the on-going self-evaluation. I was always precocious and read everything I could get my hands on on every subject imaginable. At some point I developed an interest in serial killers. By interest, I meant dawning horror that I had nearly all the harbingers of one.

The triad of precursor behaviors seems to be universally agreed to be bed-wetting, fire starting, and cruelty to animals. We had no pets. Demeaning, shaming mother who berated me about the bed-wetting? Check. Experience with creating conflagrations? Check. To this day I have a fascination with pyrotechnics. Any form of ignition source, fuel, containment device was tried with the fervor of Edison looking for tungsten. The missing component was cruelty. Never had any interest in it. I was never sure if I just had no grudge against animals, or was just too squeamish. I could handle dissection in honors biology class, but it wasn't a prurient thrill. Always an under-acheiver, I had better hands and a sharper mind than my younger brother who is a surgeon now.

My bitch of a mother who tended to couch her abuse in pyscho-babble terms like "Its a power struggle" (No, you are pulling my hair, or hitting me with a bat...or...) or quaint predictions like, "look how a boy treats his (bitch of a) mother and you will see how he treats his wife." So I fretted. I had more matricidal urges tan Stewie Griffen, but I stayed my hand. Still I worried that there was some latent hostility. Serial killers often lash out at innocent victims that take the place of the deserving of their wrath. I kept my anger focused on my mother.

I met a girl once. CUTE. Father owned a major car dealership. She kept violating my personal space. So I killed her. Wait, no, I didn't. Once she, for reasons that baffle me, kept poking me in the ribs. It started as a tickle but grew to be annoyingly painful. I have a high pain threshold, but I don't enjoy it. I finally just looked at her and said, Enough. She backed up with a nervous giggle and said, ooo, I can tell you're the type that will grow up to beat your wife. How right she was, apparently.

Buried in an early post here is this bit about the first time I beat my girlfriend (now wife):

I EAGERLY tied her wrists together and then over head to one side of the headboard. I teased and tickled until to my shock, she asked me to spank her. "Harder!" she urged when my first tentative slap only warmed her bottom, but didn't sting. It took quite a few swats each incrementally harder until I was rewarded with a then strange, but now familiar glazed look of her reaching another place. I was so turned on by this and horrified in a small compartmentalized portion of my mind that I was hitting a woman and really getting off on it. The fact that it was consensual, encouraged and effective entered into my thinking not at all. As she hoarsely whispered her encouragement and said something to the effect that "you like that don't you?" , instinct went somewhere I couldn't have known about. Very carefully deciding exactly how hard would be attention-grabbing, but not so far that she would want to quit this game of chicken, I slapped her across the face. It was almost out of body and definitely out of character for me. I almost came from that, and I think she might have.

So I was disturbed, and aroused. Then, and now. Some of my fears seemed to be realized when I found myself creeping in the night, Boo Radley on the prowl. I read psychology especially as it related to pathologies. I recognized that voyeurism is a gateway behavior and actually went so far as to seek professional help. So you see, the thing that disturbs me about spanking her ass in the manner it so richly deserves is not the kinky thrill of seeing her yearn for it, its that maybe, just maybe I like it too much. We never called them 'scenes' when I reached into a dark place and looked though her in ways that sends a shiver through her. She reports that she can see a visible change, that I go someplace, and that there is an edge in my eyes. At first this bothered me, then I practiced it. Not to the point that it becomes an affectation, but just learning to accept the delicious quench of dipping briefly into a pool of sadism.

The 27 Year Old Virgin. - The Geek

2007-12-23T22:56:00.000-08:00

Sitting here tonight watching "The 40 Year Old Virgin, we laughed at the movie, but as much more at the recognition. Although to really be us, Andy would have to have married Beth.

The scene at the end where Andy lasts all of one minute, but is immediately able to go again is exactly how our wedding night went. We barely managed to stay for the reception with smiles and glazed looks of lust in our eyes. We did something really smart about the honeymoon. We had a room downtown near a University for the wedding night with plane reservations to Cancun scheduled for the next morning. Decent room but I remember little but maybe the bedspread I laid her across. As soon as we could politely leave we fled, straight to the room.

Friends of ours had gifted us some sparkling apple juice, crystal stemware and a basket of fruit-flavored pussy sundae fixings. I poured the beverage, which being non-alcoholic loosened me up not at all. I was, however, giddy with anticipation. I slipped her out of her the dress she wore from the reception to reveal some really hot bridal lingerie that I had helped her pick out. A long-line bra, a garter belt, crotchless panties, seamed white stockings a white garter, and kinky satin covered 4" stiletto pumps with pearl chains under the arch. Seeing the exposed pussy was by now familiar territory, as we hadn't been as good as I had hoped for during a fairly long engagement. I dove in head first and had her writhing when I remembered the basket of treats. I stopped (being the clueless nerd that I was) and opened a jar of cherry topping. Smearing a generous dollop I dove in headfirst like the fat kid at an eating contest. As mentioned, she is easily orgasmic so my fairly clumsy attempts brought her to orgasm a time or two undoubtedly.

Not really sure how I made the transition from cunnilingus to intercourse, but I adjudged her sufficiently ready. I dropped my pants and clumsily mounted her. I rutted like a virgin in a whorehouse, cumming just about as quickly. I think I managed at least 3, maybe 5 strokes, she remembers 2. She had the biggest smile on her face as she thanked me for my cherry flavored cherry. I asked her if it was worth the wait. "No" she responded, "we could have been fucking for months!" She cleaned the cherry sauce off my chin, her ear, and did the best she could running a brush through her sticky hair. With a cheesy smile on my face and a smug one on hers we walked hand in hand across the street to a landmark of kitschy 'Italian' hyperbole. I think I had the baked spaghetti with Italian sausage. I was feeling carnivorous and needed to carbo-load. (I don't think I mentioned previously but I had been a distance runner, lots of stamina so she had high hopes for round two.) I over-tipped, the share the wealth joy of the newly-laid

Round two went better. Though no stallion, I was making incremental progress on duration and technique.

Over-tipped the cabbie, managed to keep my cock in my pants the whole 5 miles to the airport.

We managed to be fairly chaste on the first leg of the flight but there was lots of giggling sexy whispers about the mile high club and asking for a blanket. After a lot of sexual tension and ear-play in the Houston Airport on a brief non-lay-over we boarded the next leg. On the next flight we conspired to meet in the lavatory. She went first, and I joined her moments later, fooling no one. Despite two previous deliveries in the previous 12 hours or so, I came through again in fairly short order he perched with one leg up on the sink, me entering her standing up. Wet as she was combined with the remnants of a decade and a half of seminal fluid back-up made enough fluid to attract the attention of gravity and we actually left a bit of a slippery spot on the floor.

I left first and could see the coming problem, there was a line formed...oops. I muttered, she isn't feeling well... She joined me later red-faced..."You left me to face those people!!!!"

We stayed at the Marriot's Casa Magna Resort. A place we really couldn't afford then and certainly not now. Marble floors exactly like in the movie. Fresh towels to guard against the jungle humidity were delivered several times a day...we used them all. By the third day, her abused pussy was swollen. I had a lot of fucking to catch up on. I was determined that by the time we got home the majority of her sexual history would be with my cock buried to the hilt in her. I came close. By the third day, I was going down the hall for ice. Not for the beverages. She actually had to ice it down! I never felt such a stud before, or since.

First Fellatio - The Geek

2007-12-22T18:22:00.000-08:00

When we met, it was clear to both of us that she was more experienced. Never a shy girl, she was a friendly and giving girl. Knowing they would like it, she liked doing it, and was remarkably libertine about it. She started young and enjoyed something about each of the lucky cocks she fellated in preparation of the first time she blew me.

With me, she was amazed at how long it took me to kiss her, and when I finally did she was reasonably impressed. As a virgin with a limited set of acceptable expressions for affection I had a fair amount of practice at that. We were mutually smitten. She was used to being sexually attractive. I, not so much. I wanted us to "be good". She wanted us to enjoy each other, but not if there were to be regrets. She was patient with my reticence, if a bit frustrated.

What a pair we made. Me, a repressed, guilt-ridden, chronically-masturbating, virginal sex-addict. She, a free-spirited, cock-sucking, cum-swallowing, cheerful, friendly, nymphomaniac.

The first time her lips caressed the head of my cock was electric.

Making out on her ugly green couch, I ground away, dry humping. My raging manhood clawed its way past the waistband of my jockeys and through unbuttoned 501's. I headed north and pressed the head of my cock just below her breasts. Rubbing her sternum seemed in my distorted reality to be less sexual then say, titty-fucking.

Her lips parted in shock to see my cock headed in the direction of her thirsty mouth She later reported thinking: "Oh My..he's really going to do this...." I was thinking I wouldn't and would stop short. Turns out she was right.

I found her mouth too inviting. I advanced until I was tantalizingly (for both of us!) within range of her tongue. It darted out and, quick as a flash, my oral cherry was devoured. That first time, delicious. I had no idea, however, the delights that would have awaited me if I had let her kneel and control the position, the timing, the cadence, the depth...

Oh my the depth. Have I mentioned that my wife can deep-throat like a pro? Amazing to see 6-7 inches of dick, encircled by lips, caressed by back of the tongue and then.... with a wiggle and a gasp.... it sliding slightly curved down the back of her throat. She chins me like an athlete touching the bar , or touching his chest to the pavement.

That first time was tentative, soft, wet licks. Careful not to scare her skittish quarry. I hesitant. Not knowing the details then of her history. Uncertain if in the cold light of morning she would feel regret. As she finally eased her mouth around the head, my few polite thrusts and she was tenderly milking my nectar. The cat in cream smile on her face said a lot.

Does Your Wife Enjoy Fellatio? - The Geek

2007-12-22T18:20:00.000-08:00

Recently she was the top of Google for "Is wife enjoying fellatio?" Apparently, not many husband's have wondered this. Google reports only 47,000 possible entries for this query. Interestingly, many entries were about a wife who did not enjoy or would not perform this loving ritual.

What's the secret for getting my wife to enjoy sucking my cock? Sadly, I don't have one. She just does. That she enjoys fellatio, I have confidence in. It's hard to gauge the strength of her pleasure when I 'enjoy cunnilingus'. She moans and mewls appreciatively but still, not with the enthusiasm with which she accepts the gift of my cock when I drop trou and guide the head towards her eager mouth. She makes me feel like I am dipped in chocolate and it makes her wet.

We have a little inside joke if she is not quite ready. "We need more foreplay!" By foreplay we mean I merely have to lay back and enjoy the tongue lashing. This often made me feel a little selfish, but not so much so that I was going to yank her by the hair off my cock.

Most wouldn't believe me, "My wife gets wet from giving head!" Her obsession may have hindered her ability to truly enjoy cunnilingus. Yes, we have tried sixty-nine. She prefers to concentrate on giving the pleasure and considers the pussy worship to be an interruption to her art. She is delightfully single minded about it during her cock worship. When we take turns, she always enjoys it. In a sense though she's just waiting for her turn to reciprocate.

I love my cock sucking wife.

Left Brain Thoughts. - The editor

2007-12-22T17:06:00.000-08:00

The Cobbler's children have no shoes." Recently commenting on Z's blog : "My words are like my children, I have too many of both."

I see great stories on the web, that need a little word smithing. I can see in their posts where to pare down to the essentials. I, the cobbler don't shoo (sic) my progeny.

I have always written as I think, then later worry about clarity, brevity & grammar. I want to revisit prior posts in a form easier to digest. I may lift some gems from my wife's also into a "best of" post as her writing is already pretty crisp.

My first try cut one 1550 word post into only the two following posts, one of 280 words and one of 500.

The first web mention of one of our posts...

2007-12-21T21:56:00.000-08:00

... and its by FleshBot!

Sex Blogs

Sex Blog Roundup: Holiday Grab Bag Edition

It seems like everything is about making lists this time of year: wish lists, gift lists, shopping lists, grocery lists ... the lists go on. But why do we spend so much time anticipating our wants? Here's what we all could use: someone else to do the thinking for us. In today's roundup of some of our favorite moments from the sex blog scene this week, our stalwart Santas have searched high and low to bring you this grab bag of sexy choices. Lights on or off? Cock packed or passed over? In private or for an audience, au natural or enhanced? Here's hoping you get what you really, really want.

Close your eyes and reach inside with Always Aroused Girl and Jefferson after the jump.

Sex Blog Roundup

by Always Aroused Girl and Jefferson

- - -

Do I Pack Daily?

Multiple people have asked me how often I pack, lately.
The short answer is: no, I don't pack daily.
The longer answer is . . . I seem to be packing more and more often. Since I got my hands on that fabulous packing cock, it's been easier to pack discreetly and comfortably, so I've done it increasingly.
I used to pack only when I had a hot date and having sex was a possibility; that began changing six or so months ago, when I began packing occasionally when going out, just for the boost of cock confidence.

- Sugarbutch Chronicles

- - -

Lights Out

So last night I wanted to re-live a little of the plain old make-out session time. I hadn't specifically planned anything vis-à-vis the lighting scheme. I had only resolved to leave the rope, the duct tape, the belt, and the kink put away, and just kiss, for as long as I could without leading anywhere else. I wasn't going to resist any advances she might be inspired to make, but I would be chaste, I resolved. Out of the shower, teeth brushed, I killed the distraction of the TV and when I flipped off the bathroom light the whole room was plunged into darkness. Interestingly that seemed to add to setting a new tone. I don't think the lighting level matters in this experiment for a couple, just try something different than you usually do, whatever that is. Unless you are blind in which case maybe write bright or dim slogans on each other in Braille.

- Full Contact Monogamy

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Lines in the Sand

Tossing the brush onto the counter I pulled the shower door open, letting a warm billow of steam out into the room, fogging the mirrors. Nothing like a hot shower to set my mood. I slowly washed my hair while the soap bubbles trailed down my body, over my breasts, down my belly, one catching in my navel, another sliding across my exposed clit, over my thighs. Like sensual fingers tracing across my body. Good behavior, Liz, this one needs some easy handling.

- Liz Wired

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Words Fail

I peeled the lacy black knickers off her, and enjoyed the revelation of the pink of her labia peering out from in between the dark brown of her pubic hair, which is strangely straight and soft in contrast to the thick curls on her head.
Immediately when I touched her pussy with the tip of my tongue, Fifi took my head in her hands, pulled me up and with a great urgency said, "uh-uh, fuck . . . " It was like a sudden realization that the thing she wanted most in the world had to happen right away and could only be described by grunts and one-word requests.

- MonMouth

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Dee's With Dan Right Now

I know she sucks his cock on and off throughout an evening together and is happy to be able to fit most of it inside her mouth, but I don't know what particular positions she uses or what combinations of licking, sucking, and stroking she uses with him. I know they have intercourse in a variety of ways, but I don't know in what order, for how long, and how fast or deep he moves inside her each time.

- Sharing Dee

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Toyland

In the bedroom he undressed me slowly, kissing me harder each time, until we were both naked. He licked my neck and his hand went to between my legs, and I sighed as I felt him stroke my clit, the familiar feeling building and me burying my head against his chest asking him to please make me cum. He smiled and withdrew his hand, saying, "Not yet. We need to see the toys."

- Bridget's Boy(s)

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Unethical

Perhaps the taxi driver sees women with their nakedness covered by fur coats every day of the week in his cab. Perhaps he meets their eye in the mirror, as he met mine, all the time. It's possible that even if he thought he saw such a woman, he would dismiss it as a trick played by hackneyed fantasy. It's conceivable he knew what he saw, and smiled. He could have done more than smile. I smile now, but with a different pleasure, as I'm rolled onto my back. He could have asked to see, the taxi driver.

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- - -

From Afar

I must confess, I'm hoping to have you in my mouth and be able to feel my cunt pulsate and tingle at the memory of a recent cataclysmic orgasm.
Your fingers will have opened me to your probing lips and tongue, and joined them to explore the depths of the inner parts of me that I only show to those deserving. Could you feel how hot I felt? How wet I was? How aroused? Didn't you want to slide your whole hand inside me and mercilessly beat a tattoo on my g-spot until I was the one who gushed forth like an overflowing mountain brook?

- The Erotic Journal of Juno Henry

* * * * *

We are Famous! (ERP??!) - The Husband

2007-12-21T11:40:00.000-08:00

I had checked site meter and we were on pace for our usual 100-ish readers a day. The average person stays 4 minutes because some who for example Googled recipes and found themselves here flee in terror, and those that find us Googling "Pussy Pics" ogle the Googled for an hour at times. The average reader clicks 3 pages, again because some flee with burning retinas, some click each enlarged picture of her glistening clit, or click to read each time we mention cunnilingous or Fellatio.

Interestingly for a couple calling ourselves "The Fellatio Artist & The Geek" Pussy Worship remains our most common google hit. I mean I have recently picked up a couple of pointers from a sweet Bi-friend on the subject and have learned to enrapture her sufficiently that she doesn't ALWAYS push me away and gobble my cock, but the blow-jobs outnumber the clit-jobs at least 4 to one around here. Not that I am complaining.

An hour or so ago, site meter went NUTS. For a moment it was almost jammed I couldn't see individual stats at all, but we had a spike of 20 people in like as many minutes. there were 9 on reading at once..(woo-hoo virtual orgy!!). When I finally saw where they were coming from my jaw dropped..I went to tell The Fellatio Artist that we had been picked up by FleshBot. I read Fleshbot and have found some GREAT blogs from them. I am fairly new to blogging in general and don't quite get how different types of blogs work. I see FleshBot as maybe some arm of a publishing house or something. I find places like that intimidating so I read but don't comment since they seem not like"regular folks" of course silly because some regular folks had to write every word one keystroke at a time..(although they undoubtedly use more then the three fingers I use.)

Turns out Always Aroused Girl and Jefferson had written the Holiday Grab Bag Edition of the Sex Blog Round-up on FleshBot and had snipped a bit from a post I did. I read AAG everyday, and know Jefferson only by reputation, I cannot believe how many blogs out there that I read will say, I was talking to Jefferson the other day and he said...that guy seems to know everyone. So, Jefferson, if you read this, Uh, Hi, nice to make your acquaintance, Ive heard so many kinky things about you..:)

The funny thing is it was arguably the tames post on here. Kinda intimidating to realize that people who just read how I had enjoyed some gentle kink-free kissing with my beloved wife, come here and if they get to the main page can see me up to my wrist in her most personal of spaces...oh well.

We started this as a place to put things too salacious for even our online kinky friends, for things to weird for my married crossdresser blog...we weren't sure we would ever give anyone the link. We decided to start making a few comments using this id on various blogs and we just had our 2,000th visitor for what was supposed to be an backwater blog.

One of the hits came from 10 miles away...kinda close...like I said...erp.

Domination With a Straight Face. - The Husband

2007-12-20T23:35:00.000-08:00

Being a randy S.O.B. this morning's raunch wasn't enough to sate the beast within. Well I thought it was, until she presented her ass. She got some shoes today from an admirer and was taking a picture of them. To do this, she laid on her back, put her ass within spanking distance in a pair of tight jeans and put her legs in the air against the wall as she took a self picture of the shoes.

Naturally, I spanked her. It sounded good, felt good on my hand and she kind of sidled her butt over for another. I told her to lock the door and strip. She said she had to go downstairs to deal with a pan. Huh? She explained that yet again she had boiled a pan dry with this seasonal spice (nutmeg, allspice, cinnamon) that she simmers on the stove to cover the odor of unwashed dishes and laundry and burned pans. This time it was a pan that was ugly, battered, but serviceable that was left behind by one of th 29 roommates I went through before trading them in for a her. This, a grievous sin indeed. I told her as she attempted (in vain I am sure) to scrub the carbon off the bottom to think of a number of swats that she should receive to atone for the loss of my pan. (Did I mention this is the third one in about as many month?) She said "Zero!" I told her I found her number "unacceptable."

Thinking about spanking her got me very hard indeed. Not something I am proud of, just a physiological reaction to a fetish. When she came in, I told her to strip but put on some panties. She did, (locking the door behind her) and rummaged around for some underwear. She grabbed a floral print boy short. "Unacceptable" I say.. I pulled mine off and had her step into them, and put hers on. "On your knees!" I insisted.

I fucked her face a while then remembered the task at hand. "On the bed, face down, ass in the air." She did, a trace of a bemused smile. I thought the angle looked interesting although no woman's behind is flattered in that pose. Being in an unflattering pose was hot in and of itself, so I took pictures. Unfortunately that was with her camera and I'm betting on deletion. We will see. I opened the blinds to let in some natural light and to give that uneasy feeling that her ass being flogged might be seen by someone.

I had her reach under and masturbate in my panties to give her something to do where I considered angles and lighting. Finally satisfied that I had enough pictures of her ass for later humiliation play, I pulled the panties in for a mild wedge exposing more flesh for the spankin'. Rather than a series of red blotches, I wanted a single distinct handprint. A partial wouldn't do and once I had a partial, there would be no chance of lining up a second so I increased te acceleration of my hand through the air to achieve a terminal velocity of about 50% more than I thought I needed for the effect of that. Since her safe word seems to be "OW!" I wasn't going to get a second swat anyway with the one I had wound up in my shoulder. SMMMAAAACKKKKK! It hurt. A lot. My hand was stinging. She felt it too.

She started laughing through the tears. A long time ago we were playing around with spanking. I had kicked the roommates (and the revenue) out of my house and we were christening all the rooms. The middle bedroom with the green shag carpeting had a cheap mirror on the back of the door. I had found a garland of pearls and she was wearing those her bridal heels and the "Nelda Outfit" (a one piece teddy our mutual friend Nelda had given her at her bridal shower.)

There was a stool in the room and we messed around mugging for the mirror. Her favorite was probably when I sat on the stool sans trousers and she watched in the mirror as she bent over wearing those 4" white satin, lace and pearl trimmed, stiletto heels and deep-throated me. I enjoyed having her bend over the stool as I swatted her bare cheeks with my hand progressively harder each stroke until she kept up a throaty sexy patter f oh yes, that fells good, spank me, make it hurt...until it actually did. Then she stood up straight rubbed her ass and said OW that HURT annunciated in clear debate team voice. We still laugh about that. If you can't laugh WITH your sub you aren't really secure in your Dom-ulinity. Besides, she is probably laughing behind your back AT you..(subs do that you know)

Oddly although I shared her mirth I was quite ramped up in my desire to cause her the pain so I was pretty un-apologetic about it. As the bright red hand print raised, I knew it was all worth it anyway..what a pic that will make!..snapped a few as she craned her neck to see it. looking at the display skin she audibly gasped in a "look what you DID to me" way but a quick groping of her confirmed that she was also very very wet...I think more so from seeing the result than the swat itself.

She openingly laughed saying look how dom-ly you still look despite the fact that we are laughing. I pointed out that even though I laughed, I really hadn't granted permission for her to do so. I emphasized my pint with some pressure on her carotids. Sharp intake of breath and then silence. "Better", I said, and meant it. Reaching down I pulled of the panties. "I also didn't give permission for you to cream in my panties." I grabbed the nylon panties and yanked them down over her ass and off her legs. "Look what you've done." I calmly pointed out, as I let her taste the moist gusset I soved it in her mouth.

Taking them out of her mouth, and taking liberties no properly trained sub would she wrapped them around her neck pulling the stretchy nylon taut. "I think you should choke me."

Taking them back I used them to stretch a taught gag like a bit through her teeth pulling hard at the corners of he mouth pulling her smile into a grimace. "No," I explained. "As much as I am getting off on this little scene, I might well take that too far." That seemed to hit the mark. by this point I had worked my way on top of her pinning her and threatening her already abused cunt again with my cock. Working it in I fucked her for a short while before she moved the panty gag aside and complained that it was hurting inside and not in a good way. "No problem," I cheerfully replied as I gently gathered a handful of hair and pulled her mouth down onto my cock. She lasted a little while that way and was experiencing discomfort there too.

Hmm, I say, you are an awfully greedy slut aren't you. You get off by crossing your legs and I don't complain when despite years of practice, you fail to get me off at times. You really need to choose one way or another here (as I put my cock back in her pussy). She complained and came again and again as I fucked her. Do you want me to stop? "No" Does it hurt? "Yes" Is that why you are cumming? "Yes".

I was looking forward to several exchanges back and forth mouth to pussy, pussy to mouth and back, but her writhing and orgasms from every nipple pinch just got me off before I could completely wear her down. All in all, another lovely time was had by me. Dunno about her, I shall badger her to post her version of this.

Lazy Morning Back Rub. - The Husband

2007-12-20T09:52:00.000-08:00

I was a little morose last night. Came out of nowhere. Nothing I felt justified in pouting over. It was my own past deeds bringing up some well-earned guilt. My wife was patient with me as I worked through it. That is beyond long-suffering, especially since prior to my unexpected attack of conscience, she was very much in the mood. She waited it out and like other storms in the past this minor squall passed. We had a "lovely" time, and full of whatever chemical is released to keep the male from jostling the work-product after delivery, I fell to sleep.

I awoke still a little chagrined, but determined not to bring my self-abuse into the new day to cast a cloud on a very nice day here. When I don't feel good about myself, I withdraw, turn in. I was determined not to so silly as it sounds, I accepted her forgiveness by asking for a back rub this morning. (I know, I know, big of me huh?) But it worked, I was feeling connected and loved and accepted. I always am loved and accepted, but I struggle.

When she sleepily tired of scritching. I rolled over to scratch her, er, uh, front I guess. She didn't roll over so I did my best to keep it chaste and affectionate rather than sexual...I failed miserably......

Sugasm 110

2007-12-18T23:11:00.000-08:00

The best of this week’s blogs by the bloggers who blog them. Highlighting the top 3 posts as chosen by Sugasm participants. Want in Sugasm #111? Submit a link to your best post of the week using this form. Participants, repost the link list within a week and you’re all set.

This Week’s Picks

Sex Worker Solidarity: Audacia Ray

“Visibility on our own terms and the ability to uses our voices (and other mediums of expression) are key to the progress of sex worker’s rights.”

So Many Men, So Few Sluts

“Everyone wants to avoid generalizations about men and women, yet they’re too powerful to ignore.”

This Time

“She had That Look, and despite my earlier fatigue, I knew what was coming.”

Mr. Sugasm Himself

Hombre Magazine’s Left Handed Ads

Editor’s Choice

Love in an Elevator

More Sugasm

Join the Sugasm

See also: Fleshbot’s Sex Blog Roundup each Tuesday and Friday.

(Sugasm participants should re-post all the links above within a week. The following links may be excluded as long as you include all the above links.)

Sex Advice

The Everything Guide To Bras

Giving a woman a pedicure

Sex Tips for “Married Old Guys” - How to Keep Your Sex Life Hot, Even Without Erections!

Ten Things I’ve Learned abut Sex #3: Leave Your Clothing on a Pile

Thoughts on Sex and Relationships

Different Level of Consciousness

Intimacy

Jodie Foster, a lesbian

Loved endlessly…

Non-anniversary, uncelebration

Unwanted sexual experiences from a new angle; Men have needs too!

Where Do I Come (In)?

Sex & Politics

Strippers and libertarianism

BDSM & Fetish

Dinner and a Menage’ a Trois

Dominating her, er again part2

A Little Restraint

More from my last visit (pt. 2)

My First Erotic Awakening Massage

One Hell Of First Date

Thoughts…

V is for Vicious Ardor

Sex Work

Whip Me, Beat Me — And Call It Girlfriend Experience

Sex News, Reviews & Interviews

Featured Design: Pro-Porn

Fuck The Cheerleader, Fuck The World. (Hogtied.com, Forced Orgasms, Cheerleader)

Gift Guide #2

Intern Sex Toy Review - Saturn Cockring

Interview with Greta Christina about hiring a professional submissive

Pinky & Jade at Pinkys House (Inside Dacia’s Dirty Mind)

Erotic Writing and Experiences

Catalina loves Turning 36

Christmas Tree HNT

Fingers

Foreplay

I Speak Roughly, Part 2: RBU

It’s

The Kiss: All Through The Night.

The Limitations of Terminology

Patience Rewarded

The Shower - Part One

Trying on Shoes (a fantasy)

Women Dancing

Sex Poetry

While sleeping

NSFW Pics & Videos

Danni’s Friends in Daring Nude Galleries

Janelle Elson - Stairway To Janelle

Pornsaint Niya Yu

Sex Humor

Brunch Stories 2-The Strange Folks On Craigslist

Condom Use