The 27 Year Old Virgin. - The Geek

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.

Lights Out. -The Husband

I had observed in my younger days doing shall we say nocturnal fieldwork, that couples might make-out for a bit with the lights on, but when it came time to be intimate they tended to turn out the lights. Illumination if at all was from a flickering candle or a cathode ray tube.

In our early years, we had the lights a-blazing. As an avid voyeur, I saw no reason to miss out on any visual detail. We did candles, but usually lots of them to inflame the pyro in me. As we aged and added some bulges and bumps, we tended to dim out light sources until we, too were making the beast with two backs by the blue light of the TV with the sound down. Not a very efficient light source, that.

With some really remarkable effort on both our parts we have lost the equivalent of another body in bed. To the consternation of our friends who want a different answer to how we lost the weight , we did it from eating less, and being more active. Our sex lives have picked up as of late in frequency, duration, and the athleticism involved. As you can see from the last entry we can at times be a little intense, and the light levels are definitely back up.

Yesterday, I was playing some of those ad a letter/drop a letter, alphabet, word association, etc. games on a forum we frequent. One involved alphabetizing gerunds. (of course they didn't actually say gerunds, they simply said to find an "ing" word starting with the next letter of the alphabet.) I couldn't think of one for K for some reason, when usually I am pretty fast in riffling through my lexicon. She suggested "Kicking", which I started typing till she said "Kissing". Funny how a word can evoke memories. I mean it isn't like we don;t kiss on a regular basis. more lately than in a long time, some affectionate pecks, as well as a sprinkling of varied intensities thrown into the mix or our love-making, and even at times when we are just fucking. It occurs to me that that seems to be the difference. not the kink level but the kiss level in determining whether we are "Being Intimate" or "Fucking".

I remembered back to times when I was still in most ways imaginable a virgin, and she was while somewhat impatient, respecting my boundaries. I wish I could say my reticence was because of devout piety, but the truth was I was superstitious. My most serious previous relationship had ended, I thought at the time, as punishment at the hand of God. Not surprising I thought that given my repressive upbringing and the fact that I am in fact a direct descendant of Increase Mather. (I found out much too late that my poor attempt at self-education could have perhaps been rectified if I had had a large wad of cash and had presented my genealogy to the admissions office at Harvard and claimed the ultimate legacy status.)

Where was I? Oh, children of an Angry God and that sort of thing.

So, I convinced myself that if I went "too far" I would lose this girl that I was quite smitten with, sexually and emotionally. I drew silly incongruent lines to define the bounds of proper behavior, or at least behavior no worse than the week before say. We would have conversations that had a very heavily sexually charged undercurrent, while making plans to avoid for instance being alone together, as the flesh was weak. Very supple, and weak.....(enjoying euphoric recall here.)

So the kinkiest seemed to be the times we were most determined to "be good". We noticed the pattern early and we would torment each-other with the phrase, "We are going to be good..." "...Very good.."

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-a-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.

I fumbled trough the dark without stubbing a toe or barking a shin and found her on 'her side' of the bed guided in part by the redolent tones of the toddler snoring on my side. As planned we kissed and reminisced and it took not long at all for her to pick-up on the fact that I was reliving the days of being good. We didn't stay good, including other fantasy tableaus in our couping but just the slow delay made certain sensations all the more delicious.

She pointed out that I in fact was never this chaste at our best, but I pointed out that in fact I was in the earliest days before I succumbed to her feminine whiles and fell. I played the coquette, she played the gentle encourager and we had a fine time.

Lets try this again... - The husband

Baby is better, happy and healthy and a terror once again. Safely asleep and out of the bed, linens once again washed.

Jane is in the shower...smooth soapy and wet...yummmy

Need to get a quick rinse myself then lay back and watch the virtuoso perform.

I'll let you know how it blows, er glows, er grows, er goes I mean!

edit:

The fellatio as expected was outstanding. I managed to forstall my excitement and present her with a flacid clean workspace to start from. Always fun to see and feels amazing for a small flaccid nibble grow in her mouth and slowly fetreat out full size a short while later. Great conjuring trick.

Lots of warm wet tongue swirling around the shaft, pressing on that spot under the tip of the head that feels so good, a few shudder inspiring teasing licks at the ABC (Ass-to-Ball-Connection). Short, fast strokes with her mouth following the contours p and over the ridge of my head. a little medium throat wish isn't as impressive looking as deep throat but is what feels the best. I thought for a while I would reward her efforts in a visible way, but the moment passed suddenly as it does sometimes. With her depth of experience she can tell, and usually moves on to other activities, this time lying back for the highly under-rated missionary position.

I started a little filthy verbal encouragement based in part on some pictures she had seen of a young man that she fond aesthetically pleasing and emotionally disturbing as our oldest turns 18 in a couple of weeks. This guy could easily fit in with the 18-21 crowd that or son hangs around in. At some point though I felt I was forcing a square peg in a perfectly nice warm wet round hole. I can do that sometimes. Chasing an orgasm is the surest way to forestall one. She took over the narrative and fleshed out the scene more vividly and with out too much more aerobic activity I had yet another orgasm to ad to my tally for the day.

We have a semi-serious idea of starting yet two more blogs just to track orgasms or maybe just twin counter bars. She will win of course, always, but we thought it might be fun to keep track.

All in all 8 out of 10 for sensations, I think I should have just been more present in the moment This is a mistake I make often trying to cram to much fantasy and role play and positions int what is really a pretty simple effective coupling to orgasm. What is there between us at the moment is enough and I tend to forget that chasing greater highs.

Rose Bushes....The Geek

There is a line in Saving Private Ryan when Tom Hanks says, "Oh,... no... That memory is just for me."

We have come to use the phrase Rose Bushes to mean special moments that somehow seem to be almost sullied in the re-telling. Seems silly now in light of the wildly explicit recounting of some things we have shared here from behind a mask of anonymity.

It is no doubt more exciting for us to page back and relive some of these moments though so it seems a fair trade off. Throw in the exhibitionist thrill of the possibility of someone jack-or-jill-ing off to the imagery or the images, and it seems so worth leaving the virtual shades up and the lights on.

There are times though like tonight that the idea that an especially powerfully full-filling session was in some way brought about by playing to the audience whether it be the house as a whole or a face in that crowd, it almost cheapens the moment.

I do want to say something about the experience both to get my thoughts on it on paper, and to express my appreciation to the moment and to my wife and the process that led up to the time together.

I feel in writing this a little like I do when tackling a post on my vanilla blog where I try to keep it family friendly while still being relevant. What I wanted to say in broad strokes was that we were very intimate tonight. In every sense of the word. We seemed very connected to each other and to thoughts and well wishes we have received from others. The physiological responses were amazing but it was the levels of trust that were most profound. It seemed to me that her trust in me to love and cherish only her as I blog and read and chat and explore all came together to make me a better lover. It was validating for me.

I am not saying that the details themselves of the lovemaking need be kept from view, rather if when she wakes from slumber she feels the muse to detail from her perspective what she felt I wouldn't mind hearing every explicit detail straight form her lips or along with the rest of you from her keyboard. I just wanted to stay in the moment myself and enjoy a moment of quiet if smug satisfaction with maybe a quiet wink to the unnamed muse.