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.