Number One? ..on Page One?

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.

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...

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.

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

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...

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....

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...

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.

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!

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.

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....

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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That Look - The Wife

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

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.