Sleepus Interuptus.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Love you too...'

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

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

Fascinating I thought.

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

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

Oh, and everything came out fine.