When I first moved into my little dorm/prison/BOQ-style room several months ago I was very impressed with the construction. The walls seemed totally impervious to any sound. I slept soundly with nary a whisper to disturb my rest. I wondered if they had some sort of high tech sound baffle as the walls didn't seem unusually thick.
Later I discovered the secret. My neighbors all happened to work different weeks and different shifts than I.
Not so now. My jovial, hard drinking neighbor works on the same crew as I, and for the most part is home. I work a lot of overtime (150 hours of overtime this month), and he hides out from a couple of ex-wives and their lawyers, so neither of us leave the camp much.
Yesterday, the lovely Fellatio Artist left the kids with her sister 30 miles away and came up to enjoy the steak dinner I get every Wednesday night. I popped into my room to grab a toothbrush and ran into Eric. When I mentioned my wife was waiting out in the car he said to bring her by so he could say 'hey'.
So I did. Pleasantries exchanged, she then asked if I was going to show her my room. I did and jokingly asked "So, you wanna?". "Of course", she answered - already unbuttoning her blouse. (Any wonder I love this woman?)
So, on my freshly made bed from my weekly maid service, she lay under the harsh fluorescent overhead looking quite ravish-able. So I did. With great enthusiasm. We could clearly hear my neighbor through the wall talking to a recent move-in. As she would begin to whimper with pleasure I would clamp a hand over her mouth which only increased the volume of her cries.
I intend to swagger a bit with pride when I next see my compadres in the mess hall.
Thursday, May 29, 2008
Tuesday, May 13, 2008
Sharing my SLutty Wife. - The Husband
No, I am not accepting applications for the next penis to violate my wife's eager orifices. No, not even if your man-root is of impressive dimensions, and please do not attach pics to the application you are not to send.
The "sharing" of my wifes really pretty eager body is merely retrospective. For some reason it has bothered me not at all that she came prepared with a skill set finely honed on other men's cocks. I do tell her often that the only problem with vaginal intercourse is that her eager mouth goes wasted.
What got me thinking on this topic was a recent post on Hamlet and Loralie's excellent Blog, Pornotopia. In that post he discusses the frequently repeated refrain that he is so lucky to have such an eager slut for a girlfriend. He discussed the fact that most guys would actually be a bit discomfited if their partners were actually to become the nymphs that they imagine in their kinkiest moments.
I don't actually identify with the interest that cuckolds have in having their wives or girlfriends out fucking other people, but I do kind of understand a little of their motivation. I just like the voyeuristic component to it.
From the time that we met, it was not too long before sexual topics were somewhat shyly, then progressively less so, brought up. I was aware that she of course was not a virgin, as I was pretty sure she hadn't conceived immaculately. She was not surprised, particularly, that I was a virgin. Most people that knew me wouldn't have been.
As she would (usually during some kinky heavy petting) answer various "have you ever?" type questions, it was like little neatly wrapped parcels to open. Kind of plain brown wrapper, nicely folded. Inside as I unwrapped I would find full-color glossy images. Hot.
As I awaited the next installment of my "slut-of-the-week" club serial story, I embellished in my mind. A lot.
I had her blowing the football team in the back of the bus on long road trips. The reality was a bit more tame. She did blow the captain of the team, but it was a bit more private, and she was after all dating him.
Anyway, years ago, she had mentioned in reference to someone else that cultural taboo of a white woman having had any kind of experience with a black man being something that would be a hard thing for a lot of guys to accept in her experience. I didn't press, but sensed there was a story there somewhere.
It didn't actually come out until fairly recently, and I don't recall the context, but the story was much less rich in detail than some others owing in part to the lack of memory on her part of what actually occurred. The details aren't particularly salacious. She was engaged, some reason or another they were fighting most likely over his infidelities, and her manager was in parallel out of sorts with his partner. A few after work drinks and she remembers little other than the horror primarily of finding herself cheating on her fiance more so than the any particular feeling of having crossed a cultural boundary.
So, goes to show you once they have tried black, it is possible to go back. It helps that I have an really enormous........ego.
The "sharing" of my wifes really pretty eager body is merely retrospective. For some reason it has bothered me not at all that she came prepared with a skill set finely honed on other men's cocks. I do tell her often that the only problem with vaginal intercourse is that her eager mouth goes wasted.
What got me thinking on this topic was a recent post on Hamlet and Loralie's excellent Blog, Pornotopia. In that post he discusses the frequently repeated refrain that he is so lucky to have such an eager slut for a girlfriend. He discussed the fact that most guys would actually be a bit discomfited if their partners were actually to become the nymphs that they imagine in their kinkiest moments.
I don't actually identify with the interest that cuckolds have in having their wives or girlfriends out fucking other people, but I do kind of understand a little of their motivation. I just like the voyeuristic component to it.
From the time that we met, it was not too long before sexual topics were somewhat shyly, then progressively less so, brought up. I was aware that she of course was not a virgin, as I was pretty sure she hadn't conceived immaculately. She was not surprised, particularly, that I was a virgin. Most people that knew me wouldn't have been.
As she would (usually during some kinky heavy petting) answer various "have you ever?" type questions, it was like little neatly wrapped parcels to open. Kind of plain brown wrapper, nicely folded. Inside as I unwrapped I would find full-color glossy images. Hot.
As I awaited the next installment of my "slut-of-the-week" club serial story, I embellished in my mind. A lot.
I had her blowing the football team in the back of the bus on long road trips. The reality was a bit more tame. She did blow the captain of the team, but it was a bit more private, and she was after all dating him.
Anyway, years ago, she had mentioned in reference to someone else that cultural taboo of a white woman having had any kind of experience with a black man being something that would be a hard thing for a lot of guys to accept in her experience. I didn't press, but sensed there was a story there somewhere.
It didn't actually come out until fairly recently, and I don't recall the context, but the story was much less rich in detail than some others owing in part to the lack of memory on her part of what actually occurred. The details aren't particularly salacious. She was engaged, some reason or another they were fighting most likely over his infidelities, and her manager was in parallel out of sorts with his partner. A few after work drinks and she remembers little other than the horror primarily of finding herself cheating on her fiance more so than the any particular feeling of having crossed a cultural boundary.
So, goes to show you once they have tried black, it is possible to go back. It helps that I have an really enormous........ego.
Distance Training "Orgasm Control" - The Husband.
Site meter is a fun tool. I often like to look at the (limited) details it gives about our visitors. Now, before all of you surfing from work log off in a panic, I should tell you how limited it is. It merely tells what link refered you (if any), what isp you are using, and in general terms your geographic location.
Its fun to see what part of the world has checked in. In fact, it is comforting to know for example that currently of the five people reading, one is from Pretoria, South Africa. Why comforting? Because I am pretty sure we aren't likely to have a blushing encounter at the corner market for example. Disturbingly, the person who has been on the longest at the moment (a little over 10 minutes, currently reviewing video clips) is actually from the major metropolis in which we reside. There are two Canadians online and one person from Pennsylvania.
AAG's Blog recently had a couple of posts referring to the anguish of having some nosey (presumedly elderly) parents intruding into her private virtual space and reading snippets of her blog. Such events are often the cause of really good blogs going dark and she vows not to let that happen to hers.
Oh, the title of the post, and tha actual point of this entry. I was just talking (dirty) to my wife when she was interupted by some children so our discussion is temporarilly on hold. What we were talking about was making a phone sex date for tonight, with the caveat that neither is to cum. The plan is that I am going to get off work at about 7:30 am (having not gotten off), drive three of the four hours home and meet her in a small town an hour from home where we shall consummate the experiance in a parking lot. I only have this small window because I am working my 4th day of overtime on nightshift and have less than 24 hours before I start my regular 7 x 12.5 hour regular dayshift.
She was recently intrigued for some reason by a commenter on her personal blog who suggested she use our distance as an opportunity to practice orgasm denial, apparently an interest of his. This is going to be very hard for her as any more than a little light grazing with fingertips, and she is over the edge. Sensitive and responsive doesn't begin to describe her vagina. I will have to work not to abrade my penis in this endevour as I can hold out pretty well. Partly age, partly early training. I had issues. (have issues) I felt immense hang-over-like post orgasmic let-down after I would orgasm and actually enjoyed that moment just before as much as actually cumming, which usually involved a lot of guilty, sticky, embarrassed, clean-up.
So the title of this post was lifted directly from the google search terms used by the individual in South Africa to find us. Seemed apt.
Its fun to see what part of the world has checked in. In fact, it is comforting to know for example that currently of the five people reading, one is from Pretoria, South Africa. Why comforting? Because I am pretty sure we aren't likely to have a blushing encounter at the corner market for example. Disturbingly, the person who has been on the longest at the moment (a little over 10 minutes, currently reviewing video clips) is actually from the major metropolis in which we reside. There are two Canadians online and one person from Pennsylvania.
AAG's Blog recently had a couple of posts referring to the anguish of having some nosey (presumedly elderly) parents intruding into her private virtual space and reading snippets of her blog. Such events are often the cause of really good blogs going dark and she vows not to let that happen to hers.
Oh, the title of the post, and tha actual point of this entry. I was just talking (dirty) to my wife when she was interupted by some children so our discussion is temporarilly on hold. What we were talking about was making a phone sex date for tonight, with the caveat that neither is to cum. The plan is that I am going to get off work at about 7:30 am (having not gotten off), drive three of the four hours home and meet her in a small town an hour from home where we shall consummate the experiance in a parking lot. I only have this small window because I am working my 4th day of overtime on nightshift and have less than 24 hours before I start my regular 7 x 12.5 hour regular dayshift.
She was recently intrigued for some reason by a commenter on her personal blog who suggested she use our distance as an opportunity to practice orgasm denial, apparently an interest of his. This is going to be very hard for her as any more than a little light grazing with fingertips, and she is over the edge. Sensitive and responsive doesn't begin to describe her vagina. I will have to work not to abrade my penis in this endevour as I can hold out pretty well. Partly age, partly early training. I had issues. (have issues) I felt immense hang-over-like post orgasmic let-down after I would orgasm and actually enjoyed that moment just before as much as actually cumming, which usually involved a lot of guilty, sticky, embarrassed, clean-up.
So the title of this post was lifted directly from the google search terms used by the individual in South Africa to find us. Seemed apt.
Friday, April 25, 2008
All Work and NO play. - The Bedraggled Husband
I came straight home after my work week ended last time for an event involving one of the kids, so I wasn't able to work any overtime in that 1/2 of my week off. Instead, I left three days early so I could work the maximum two days permitted while still taking the required one day off to avoid a nine day stretch. This mean I got up here on a Monday, worked through the next Monday and on to the end of my week this past Wednesday, and then some more overtime. I tried to argue that since I got off work at 7pm Wednesday, that if I didn't work again till Thursday at 7PM that I had technically "taken a day off" as required. This argument was successful once but they didn't buy it this time and sent me to my room without any more than one day of overtime. I had already promised a friend a ride home today, so I sit here at the dormitories a little bored waiting for him to get out of a training class.
I have idle time and you know what they say about idle hands...
You would think that since this place clears out in the middle of the day and I have 12 computers and some privacy that I could get into all sorts of deviant behavior. Sadly, I find that my libido is lagging. You would have to know me and my history to know how truly astounding that is. Here I am perhaps 8 hours from getting laid, and I can't bring myself to rouse any real interest in anything sexual. These computers are semi-restricted but not monitored, so there are plenty of places I can go including any number of links off this blog that arent blocked, and still...meh.
I'm just tired. On what was to be our last day of shift the powers that be actually called a meeting for 45 minutes before the start of our 12.5 hour shift AND another hour long one for after!!!! Among other things, they discussed the dangers of fatigue brought on by sleep deprivation. I kid you not.
I have a feeling that a little groping, remembered fragrances, tastes and touches, and I'll be right as rain again...
meanwhile I shall blurf through our blogroll and see if I can't find a little tittilation to arouse my flagging libido.
I have idle time and you know what they say about idle hands...
You would think that since this place clears out in the middle of the day and I have 12 computers and some privacy that I could get into all sorts of deviant behavior. Sadly, I find that my libido is lagging. You would have to know me and my history to know how truly astounding that is. Here I am perhaps 8 hours from getting laid, and I can't bring myself to rouse any real interest in anything sexual. These computers are semi-restricted but not monitored, so there are plenty of places I can go including any number of links off this blog that arent blocked, and still...meh.
I'm just tired. On what was to be our last day of shift the powers that be actually called a meeting for 45 minutes before the start of our 12.5 hour shift AND another hour long one for after!!!! Among other things, they discussed the dangers of fatigue brought on by sleep deprivation. I kid you not.
I have a feeling that a little groping, remembered fragrances, tastes and touches, and I'll be right as rain again...
meanwhile I shall blurf through our blogroll and see if I can't find a little tittilation to arouse my flagging libido.
Thursday, April 17, 2008
Discussing Edges and Boundaries.
Place holder for an idea I had for a post. Too tired after a long day of work to write it out. The gist of it is the discussion we had as the wife read me some Craigslist personals. We used to enjoy the local free papers personals. Similar thing, but in a different light. Some ads were funny, some sexy, some stupid, some intriguing. Discussion about what we might do if circumstances were right, where would we stop? Slippery slope and all that. We liked the idea of same-room keep to ourselves but watch and be watched...
Wednesday, April 16, 2008
Best Laid Plans. - The Husband
I am back at work now but wanted to catch up on Blogging a bit.
Prior to my last visit home we had both been in sync in ultra-horny mode. I tried to stay flexible in my mind and not let the fairly specific plans we made become some kind of necessary kinky road map to my time off. What we had talked about sounded extremely hot. In the past we had had similar conversations in the style of 'making plans' but reality and real life intrudes. I just wanted to be more in the moment when I got home.
The time before with no real plans at all I though was more fulfilling, so I took our discussions as just fantasy talk and enjoyed them for that by themselves.
Still, the idea sounded really hot. The wife was in a pretty subbie place. Her idea was that I would place a bolster under her hips, and tie her down with her ass in the air. For the day. On cam.
I would watch the toddler, and go about my normal activities for my time off, whether it be catching up my laundry, doing some cooking, (I like to cook a lot, and at the camp, my meals are all made for me, good, but not quite up to the creative standards I enjoy.) maybe catch up on some online sites I can't reach through the camps, cyber cafe's filters, that sort of thing.
When the mood struck, I was going to enter the room and pick an orifice, or redden her backside, or whatever. We had been having some discussion of insertion fun , maybe taking suggestions from whatever audience had gathered...It sounded pretty hot.
My favorite suggestion she had was that I engage somebody in a little cyber dalliance while she assumed the roll of inflatable fuck-doll.
I tend to work long hours and rarely run into anyone online at the times I try, but just before I left I ran into somebody that I hadn't talked to in a while and she seemed enthused with the idea.
So I worked my last shift..(leaving for work at 6:00pm, and getting back to camp at about 8:30am) then drove about 5 hours because I had given a ride back to our metropolis to a coworker...
I am not real sure how it is that I thought I could be up 20 hours straight drive that far and organize a multi-media, multi-player sexual spectacle. On the way home this reality occurred to me. So I slept.
I sleep a lot when I get home, especially when I have a week of night shifts. I groggily woke up and somehow thought it was about 3:00 in the afternoon when it was actually about 6:30pm. I knew the wife had to check in for her job about 3:00 and when I saw her getting ready I didn't realize that we both needed to get ready for an evening function for one of the kids. I sleepily told her not to put any pants on yet, and urged her over to the bed. I tried hard to make up for lost time with a round the world tour. She was compliant, and sexy and fun and as per usual multi-orgasmic. I didn't actually put a lot of effort into her pleasure, knowing she'd have a good time regardless and just selfishly rutted like a roughneck just off the rigs. I recall grabbing her by the hair (gently) and guiding her face into a more fuckable position...at some point I decided some actual pussy was called for so I fucked her that way a while, contorting her awkwardly (for her) with legs raised. I like that position because in a semi-sit-up angle like that she has a good view of her own vagina as my cock, slippery with her juices glides in and out. I often urge her to masturbate while I fuck her. Funny that as open as she is she usually seems to wait for the suggestion before she does.
With her ankles above her earlobes that tends to raise her ass off the bed, presenting the third port on my world tour. I decided a little Greek was in order and I don't mean gyro's and falafel.
As I entered her there was some obvious discomfort. It reminded me of the description of a wry look on the actresses face that a friend of ours described in her favorite anal porno. I mentioned it to my wife saying that Whitney would have loved the look on her face. That made the pain kind of hot, I think. So I was careful, but the wife explained it hurt but it was a good hurt, and I got a bit more vigorous. It was pretty animalistic. I pounded away and she writhed and bucked, and it was over probably quicker than it takes to tell.
Afterward she apparently was a little injured. Ooops. But hot.
Prior to my last visit home we had both been in sync in ultra-horny mode. I tried to stay flexible in my mind and not let the fairly specific plans we made become some kind of necessary kinky road map to my time off. What we had talked about sounded extremely hot. In the past we had had similar conversations in the style of 'making plans' but reality and real life intrudes. I just wanted to be more in the moment when I got home.
The time before with no real plans at all I though was more fulfilling, so I took our discussions as just fantasy talk and enjoyed them for that by themselves.
Still, the idea sounded really hot. The wife was in a pretty subbie place. Her idea was that I would place a bolster under her hips, and tie her down with her ass in the air. For the day. On cam.
I would watch the toddler, and go about my normal activities for my time off, whether it be catching up my laundry, doing some cooking, (I like to cook a lot, and at the camp, my meals are all made for me, good, but not quite up to the creative standards I enjoy.) maybe catch up on some online sites I can't reach through the camps, cyber cafe's filters, that sort of thing.
When the mood struck, I was going to enter the room and pick an orifice, or redden her backside, or whatever. We had been having some discussion of insertion fun , maybe taking suggestions from whatever audience had gathered...It sounded pretty hot.
My favorite suggestion she had was that I engage somebody in a little cyber dalliance while she assumed the roll of inflatable fuck-doll.
I tend to work long hours and rarely run into anyone online at the times I try, but just before I left I ran into somebody that I hadn't talked to in a while and she seemed enthused with the idea.
So I worked my last shift..(leaving for work at 6:00pm, and getting back to camp at about 8:30am) then drove about 5 hours because I had given a ride back to our metropolis to a coworker...
I am not real sure how it is that I thought I could be up 20 hours straight drive that far and organize a multi-media, multi-player sexual spectacle. On the way home this reality occurred to me. So I slept.
I sleep a lot when I get home, especially when I have a week of night shifts. I groggily woke up and somehow thought it was about 3:00 in the afternoon when it was actually about 6:30pm. I knew the wife had to check in for her job about 3:00 and when I saw her getting ready I didn't realize that we both needed to get ready for an evening function for one of the kids. I sleepily told her not to put any pants on yet, and urged her over to the bed. I tried hard to make up for lost time with a round the world tour. She was compliant, and sexy and fun and as per usual multi-orgasmic. I didn't actually put a lot of effort into her pleasure, knowing she'd have a good time regardless and just selfishly rutted like a roughneck just off the rigs. I recall grabbing her by the hair (gently) and guiding her face into a more fuckable position...at some point I decided some actual pussy was called for so I fucked her that way a while, contorting her awkwardly (for her) with legs raised. I like that position because in a semi-sit-up angle like that she has a good view of her own vagina as my cock, slippery with her juices glides in and out. I often urge her to masturbate while I fuck her. Funny that as open as she is she usually seems to wait for the suggestion before she does.
With her ankles above her earlobes that tends to raise her ass off the bed, presenting the third port on my world tour. I decided a little Greek was in order and I don't mean gyro's and falafel.
As I entered her there was some obvious discomfort. It reminded me of the description of a wry look on the actresses face that a friend of ours described in her favorite anal porno. I mentioned it to my wife saying that Whitney would have loved the look on her face. That made the pain kind of hot, I think. So I was careful, but the wife explained it hurt but it was a good hurt, and I got a bit more vigorous. It was pretty animalistic. I pounded away and she writhed and bucked, and it was over probably quicker than it takes to tell.
Afterward she apparently was a little injured. Ooops. But hot.
Thursday, April 3, 2008
Timing and Cycles. - The Husband.
Men in general have a vague awareness that women are subject to hormonal cycles. These cycles we understand regulate the process of menstruation, and theres that added monthly irritability component that is often joked about but not during that time. Those of us that have been through the process of monitoring basal temperatures and saving up sperm for optimum ovulation potential, are also aware that some time in the middle of the cycle, she lets loose with an egg and there is the potential for another mouth to feed. This is usually about the extent of our working knowledge of "how she works".
I don't recall how I became aware on a much more important plane here, but at some point and I am sure it was after YEARS of marriage, I became aware of another and oh, so much more important, biorhythm at work.
The horny cycle.
This is Mother Natures cruel trick that causes the majority of teen pregnancies, bewildered but gratefully sexually sated husbands, and unexplainable girls night out leading to that first girl-girl experience.
Dollars to donuts if you have your girl rate on a scale of 1-10 each day how horny she feels (presuming you haven't done something stupid to F*@& things up) you will find that she is at her sexual peak of arousal at precisely the time she is guiding another egg down her fallopian tubes. This is why when that teen does it "just that once", or was too horny to practice safe sex, she finds herself great with child. The guy works and works on her, and then the day she gives in is the very day he better be thinking about a better job than Burger King.
There is another small window of opportunity that exists just before Aunt Flo comes to town. My working theory is that Mother Nature gives one last shot of horny-mone just before it sluffs off that last egg in a vain attempt to get that egg to amount to a future college attendee.
I actually do remember hearing something about the likelihood of pregnancy coinciding with desire in high school health class. In my defense though, I spent the entire time blushing and hoping no one said out loud what I was thinking which was that this information was irrelevant to dateless virgins. My slow process in picking up on this trend over the years since my wife popped my cherry is pretty understandable too. For one, she is a fairly sexual person by nature and likes sex for the joy of sex and the intimate contact, explaining once that she had read once that as a woman, if you don't "feel" like sex, go ahead and begin because once started you'll enjoy the experience regardless. (Any wonder I love this woman?) Now, it hasn't always worked that smoothly because it has taken years of careful study, practice and ongoing sensitivity training to avoid the situation where I have done something stupid to F*@& things up. This is to date still an ongoing concern.
So, I have mentioned before that my out of town blue collar job as a heavy equipment operator has me working seven 12.5 hour days then seven off. The reallity is that I also work a couple of overtime days, and lose a full day in transit back and forth as its a 400 mile round trip, and I have a visit with our state patrol at least once each trip. Some amicably, some not. Sometimes I outrun them.
Sex as a result is kind of a lovely afterthought to my life in general. I am not complaining, mind you, I realize everyone has pressures in there life and scheduling, and interpersonal issues and kids and roommates and neighbors that interferes with their God-given right to get laid as often as the thought crosses their fancy. I just got spoiled for a while there. When I had the luxury of being marginally self-employed for a couple of years, you saw the results with sex on an inhumanly regular basis and the time to write 2,000 word essays bragging about it.
In conversation with one of my co-workers, he mentioned that on one out of every two weeks he has off his wife is on her period. Don't ask me how on earth this came up, I am baffled, no one here knows anything at all about my enviable sex life much less my life as a sex-blogger. In conversation with her sister, it turns out that this has been the case with them too. On the one hand it seems maybe the cycle syncs up with the mates absence, but when you think about it it is pure happenstance. You have statistically exactly a 50% chance of this happening if you are home exactly 1/2 (or less) of the time.
When I was in training and had idle time on my hands, those idle hands found their way to my cock with the phone to my ear, or to the keyboard for some fruitless attempts to bump into my wife (or anyone else interesting for that matter) online. Now, I am just worked to the point of blissful, sexless, exhaustion which seems to extend a bit to my leave time as I spend most of that time paying back my sleep debt.
When I came home two weeks ago, I had very high expectations. I had inexplicably remembered what it was to be hory to the point of distraction and managed to somewhat inject my enthusiasm into her expectations as well. (See the entry on her blog about the vegetable shopping trip.) I had given her the assignment of making a sexual itinerary to include a wide variety of sexual activities to entertain me with upon my return as the pasha to the tent of my one-woman harem. -I had forgotten it was spring break and the kids were home with their unreasonable demands of "feed me, talk to me, take me places...." I was a little let down, but I also found that I sated rather quickly and got solidly on my sleep-debt paying nap schedule. I even violated the eggplant that was intended for much more sordid duty and made a lovely babaganoosh with pita wedges. How sick is that?
This time, I came home with very low expectations, sexually speaking. I had worked a total of 141 hours in 11 days and drove straight home after a 12.5 hour shift. My foot had been on an accelerator for over 16 hours at that point. I was aware she had been having very painful cramps and the kids were sick with the headache, fever, and congestion that she herself had been battling for the previous few days. It didn't look good.
I got home, parked the car, lugged a duty bag upstairs to find her tired but intriguingly attired in a yellow floral print nightie I figured that was optimism on her part and a welcome home, but didnt read too much into it or the hint of vanilla scent that wafted as I opened the door. I scooted the toddle over a bit as she had decided to claim not only all of my side of the bed sprawling sideways but also a bit of my wifes as she needed someones side to kick in the night.
Quite tired I put my arm under her neck and cuddled a bit, my back luxuriating at a horizontal position for the first time in about 20 hours. She seemed, to me, to be a little distant. In reality she was merely understandably fatigued from dealing with sick kids and waiting up past her bedtime for my arrival. In times past I would have wondered, "Oh, no, what does she know, what did I leave up on the computer....." In this case I have a pure heart and clean hands as I have neither the time nor inclination to explore any of the new-found freedoms our more open online understanding has made possible if not particularly a great idea always.
So, I dared ask. "What's wrong?" Normally this is a query to be avoided at all costs.
"Nothing" she said, tiredly but convincingly.
License granted I began roaming my hand a bit from around her shoulder to ( predictably) gently stroking creamy breasts trough silken fabric. Her always responsive nipples did not disappoint as they eagerly made their pointed presence known. A little flick here, some gentle pressure there and they were very much in play.
"You don't have to limit your touching there, you know." she teased.
"Oh really? And do I need to confine said touching to fingertips or might other extensions be used?"
She giggled a bit, but stopped with a gasp as I went down her belly with my chin and with no particular grace of fanfare, lifted her hem and found her panty-less pussy with my tongue.
"Oh, my..." was about as cogent as her commentary was at that point.
I had actually been 'preparing' myself to once again surprise her with a quick cum shot, expecting that a little fellatio was likely going to be the extent of the activity, given that I expected Aunt Flo to have arrived in force and to have bought a basket of discomfort with her. By 'preparing' I meant that I had passed at least 1/4 of the 4 hours home with my pants down to mid thigh and a hand on my, er, well, shifter. My theory was that if I teased it a bit, it both served the purpose of keeping me occupied and awake, and filled my seminal vessels with the little liquid surprise I had hoped to blast her with. I had done the same thing the night before when I was still experimenting with my stroking it while talking inane subjects with her. So I was cocked, locked and ready to rock.
Now, it seemed, I was going to need to put the safety back on and avoid any extra stimulation if I expected to complete a round-the-tour which seemed to be in the offing. As I ate her out I had to be sure to lay on a hip rather than my turgid member or something was going to go off without warning. She was quite tasty by the way, I posit that the more aroused a woman is the sweeter the nectar, I think there is some science there, as the fluid in greater quantity tends to be fresher and cleansing.
At some point I decided that my sword desperately need sheathing so I worked my way up letting her taste herself on my lips and chin as I slid inside and began that familiar rhythm. I'd like to report that I fucked her raw having performed like the stallion I am, but the truth is it was no more than a few strokes and for her a couple more orgasms (she's easy) before I found that two out of three holes would need to go wanting this go-round.
I made up for my speedy delivery with fully 5 more orgasms in the next 30 hours before Aunt Flo finally put a temporary cessation to the lack of hostilities. More on the next later as a couple deserve their own treatment. Interestingly we both kept count of the times but neither of us can remember details about the middle fuck-fest. We know that it happened we just did it without taking notes to pass along to our faithful readers..:)
I don't recall how I became aware on a much more important plane here, but at some point and I am sure it was after YEARS of marriage, I became aware of another and oh, so much more important, biorhythm at work.
The horny cycle.
This is Mother Natures cruel trick that causes the majority of teen pregnancies, bewildered but gratefully sexually sated husbands, and unexplainable girls night out leading to that first girl-girl experience.
Dollars to donuts if you have your girl rate on a scale of 1-10 each day how horny she feels (presuming you haven't done something stupid to F*@& things up) you will find that she is at her sexual peak of arousal at precisely the time she is guiding another egg down her fallopian tubes. This is why when that teen does it "just that once", or was too horny to practice safe sex, she finds herself great with child. The guy works and works on her, and then the day she gives in is the very day he better be thinking about a better job than Burger King.
There is another small window of opportunity that exists just before Aunt Flo comes to town. My working theory is that Mother Nature gives one last shot of horny-mone just before it sluffs off that last egg in a vain attempt to get that egg to amount to a future college attendee.
I actually do remember hearing something about the likelihood of pregnancy coinciding with desire in high school health class. In my defense though, I spent the entire time blushing and hoping no one said out loud what I was thinking which was that this information was irrelevant to dateless virgins. My slow process in picking up on this trend over the years since my wife popped my cherry is pretty understandable too. For one, she is a fairly sexual person by nature and likes sex for the joy of sex and the intimate contact, explaining once that she had read once that as a woman, if you don't "feel" like sex, go ahead and begin because once started you'll enjoy the experience regardless. (Any wonder I love this woman?) Now, it hasn't always worked that smoothly because it has taken years of careful study, practice and ongoing sensitivity training to avoid the situation where I have done something stupid to F*@& things up. This is to date still an ongoing concern.
So, I have mentioned before that my out of town blue collar job as a heavy equipment operator has me working seven 12.5 hour days then seven off. The reallity is that I also work a couple of overtime days, and lose a full day in transit back and forth as its a 400 mile round trip, and I have a visit with our state patrol at least once each trip. Some amicably, some not. Sometimes I outrun them.
Sex as a result is kind of a lovely afterthought to my life in general. I am not complaining, mind you, I realize everyone has pressures in there life and scheduling, and interpersonal issues and kids and roommates and neighbors that interferes with their God-given right to get laid as often as the thought crosses their fancy. I just got spoiled for a while there. When I had the luxury of being marginally self-employed for a couple of years, you saw the results with sex on an inhumanly regular basis and the time to write 2,000 word essays bragging about it.
In conversation with one of my co-workers, he mentioned that on one out of every two weeks he has off his wife is on her period. Don't ask me how on earth this came up, I am baffled, no one here knows anything at all about my enviable sex life much less my life as a sex-blogger. In conversation with her sister, it turns out that this has been the case with them too. On the one hand it seems maybe the cycle syncs up with the mates absence, but when you think about it it is pure happenstance. You have statistically exactly a 50% chance of this happening if you are home exactly 1/2 (or less) of the time.
When I was in training and had idle time on my hands, those idle hands found their way to my cock with the phone to my ear, or to the keyboard for some fruitless attempts to bump into my wife (or anyone else interesting for that matter) online. Now, I am just worked to the point of blissful, sexless, exhaustion which seems to extend a bit to my leave time as I spend most of that time paying back my sleep debt.
When I came home two weeks ago, I had very high expectations. I had inexplicably remembered what it was to be hory to the point of distraction and managed to somewhat inject my enthusiasm into her expectations as well. (See the entry on her blog about the vegetable shopping trip.) I had given her the assignment of making a sexual itinerary to include a wide variety of sexual activities to entertain me with upon my return as the pasha to the tent of my one-woman harem. -I had forgotten it was spring break and the kids were home with their unreasonable demands of "feed me, talk to me, take me places...." I was a little let down, but I also found that I sated rather quickly and got solidly on my sleep-debt paying nap schedule. I even violated the eggplant that was intended for much more sordid duty and made a lovely babaganoosh with pita wedges. How sick is that?
This time, I came home with very low expectations, sexually speaking. I had worked a total of 141 hours in 11 days and drove straight home after a 12.5 hour shift. My foot had been on an accelerator for over 16 hours at that point. I was aware she had been having very painful cramps and the kids were sick with the headache, fever, and congestion that she herself had been battling for the previous few days. It didn't look good.
I got home, parked the car, lugged a duty bag upstairs to find her tired but intriguingly attired in a yellow floral print nightie I figured that was optimism on her part and a welcome home, but didnt read too much into it or the hint of vanilla scent that wafted as I opened the door. I scooted the toddle over a bit as she had decided to claim not only all of my side of the bed sprawling sideways but also a bit of my wifes as she needed someones side to kick in the night.
Quite tired I put my arm under her neck and cuddled a bit, my back luxuriating at a horizontal position for the first time in about 20 hours. She seemed, to me, to be a little distant. In reality she was merely understandably fatigued from dealing with sick kids and waiting up past her bedtime for my arrival. In times past I would have wondered, "Oh, no, what does she know, what did I leave up on the computer....." In this case I have a pure heart and clean hands as I have neither the time nor inclination to explore any of the new-found freedoms our more open online understanding has made possible if not particularly a great idea always.
So, I dared ask. "What's wrong?" Normally this is a query to be avoided at all costs.
"Nothing" she said, tiredly but convincingly.
License granted I began roaming my hand a bit from around her shoulder to ( predictably) gently stroking creamy breasts trough silken fabric. Her always responsive nipples did not disappoint as they eagerly made their pointed presence known. A little flick here, some gentle pressure there and they were very much in play.
"You don't have to limit your touching there, you know." she teased.
"Oh really? And do I need to confine said touching to fingertips or might other extensions be used?"
She giggled a bit, but stopped with a gasp as I went down her belly with my chin and with no particular grace of fanfare, lifted her hem and found her panty-less pussy with my tongue.
"Oh, my..." was about as cogent as her commentary was at that point.
I had actually been 'preparing' myself to once again surprise her with a quick cum shot, expecting that a little fellatio was likely going to be the extent of the activity, given that I expected Aunt Flo to have arrived in force and to have bought a basket of discomfort with her. By 'preparing' I meant that I had passed at least 1/4 of the 4 hours home with my pants down to mid thigh and a hand on my, er, well, shifter. My theory was that if I teased it a bit, it both served the purpose of keeping me occupied and awake, and filled my seminal vessels with the little liquid surprise I had hoped to blast her with. I had done the same thing the night before when I was still experimenting with my stroking it while talking inane subjects with her. So I was cocked, locked and ready to rock.
Now, it seemed, I was going to need to put the safety back on and avoid any extra stimulation if I expected to complete a round-the-tour which seemed to be in the offing. As I ate her out I had to be sure to lay on a hip rather than my turgid member or something was going to go off without warning. She was quite tasty by the way, I posit that the more aroused a woman is the sweeter the nectar, I think there is some science there, as the fluid in greater quantity tends to be fresher and cleansing.
At some point I decided that my sword desperately need sheathing so I worked my way up letting her taste herself on my lips and chin as I slid inside and began that familiar rhythm. I'd like to report that I fucked her raw having performed like the stallion I am, but the truth is it was no more than a few strokes and for her a couple more orgasms (she's easy) before I found that two out of three holes would need to go wanting this go-round.
I made up for my speedy delivery with fully 5 more orgasms in the next 30 hours before Aunt Flo finally put a temporary cessation to the lack of hostilities. More on the next later as a couple deserve their own treatment. Interestingly we both kept count of the times but neither of us can remember details about the middle fuck-fest. We know that it happened we just did it without taking notes to pass along to our faithful readers..:)
Friday, March 28, 2008
Heavy Breathing, Continued. - The Husband
In an effort to continue the experiment with more data points, I decided I would try again today from on the job. I did sort of warn her by calling her from the cab telling her I would be at a port-a-john soon and what was she up to. (She was up to dealing with too sick kids so that didn't bode well...) I told her, "Well I'll give you a call after I have my cock in hand."
She laughed.
This is actually often the case as I attempt to zip back up withour dropping my phone where i wouldn't want to retrieve it. In this case though I meant that I would specifically have my cock in hand for the express purpose of pleasuring myself. I chose a remote port-ajohn with lots of fast and dangerous traffic nearby that discourages another operator from stopping and waiting.
It didn't work. We have these vans that shuttle operators around and one of those pulled up. i though they were waiting to use the john. (Turned out later they were just waiting to connect with an incoming piece of equipment to switch operators.) I had my cock fairly rigid and was already feeling those ripples that portend things to come. I just couldnt finish though it seemd and I began to feel silly so I gave up the attempt...for then.
She laughed.
This is actually often the case as I attempt to zip back up withour dropping my phone where i wouldn't want to retrieve it. In this case though I meant that I would specifically have my cock in hand for the express purpose of pleasuring myself. I chose a remote port-ajohn with lots of fast and dangerous traffic nearby that discourages another operator from stopping and waiting.
It didn't work. We have these vans that shuttle operators around and one of those pulled up. i though they were waiting to use the john. (Turned out later they were just waiting to connect with an incoming piece of equipment to switch operators.) I had my cock fairly rigid and was already feeling those ripples that portend things to come. I just couldnt finish though it seemd and I began to feel silly so I gave up the attempt...for then.
Thursday, March 27, 2008
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.
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.
Wednesday, March 26, 2008
Random non-sexual banter with a porn star.
The company put Sirius Satellite Radio in my cab overnight. I didn't actually notice because I just went by feel and as I went from remote place to remote place I pressed the scan buttons on the FM band it was on looking to pick-up any of the three stations that reach the area. For some reason the really well paid mechanics that work on these things don;t know that there is a lead from the radios that should go straight to the battery instead of through the ignition so the pre-sets are always out on every piece of equipment I get on.
At some point the control tower called me up and asked me to tune my Sirius Radio to 184. I did but was busy using the equipment to make my employer money so I couldn't actually work out the controls or what to do. Apparently the weather station (Channel 184) allows the unit to talk to Sirius and unlock something or another. I put it on scan and after a while on and off, I got stations, I thought at first that they were all coming in in Spanish. (Later I figured out some were Spanish and some French) I, for a moment thought maybe someone was having fun at my expense. Our equipment is at times left in Spanish mode by jokesters or maybe Hispanic operators, but jokesters are more likely. The first English station I came to was The Playboy Chanel. I called up the wife from the nearest port-a-john. I told her she better hurry if she wants to get "the easy one" before The Girls Next Door do. I wondered what it would be, moans and giggles or what. Can't very well do a centerfold layout over the air.
The first thing I heard was some sort of call in game show where you had to guess what word the porn star (I assume) was hinting at and whoever wins gets some prize from Hef's grab bag. These guys were noticeably excited to be talking to the girl, but the subject matter was entirely non-sexual. This at first struck me as odd and desperate. I imagined these guys watching this girl over and over again on a worn out VHS cassette till the knew every curve of her better than perhaps she did. I thought that maybe some of them can almost make themselves believe that they "know" her. In a way, they do, I suppose. At least the version of her she chooses to share in that way.
I got to thinking that it actually did make sense for them to get exuited to be talking to her. I still look forward to random stolen moments of conversation I have with my wife from plastic toilet enclosures buffeted by winds at high elevation. I was thinking that in my younger voyeuristic days, if I had thought I could in anyway keep my voice calm and get away with it I would love to have masturbated while having a conversation with one of my guilty teen-age lust-crushes.
I think that I might just try that with my wife sometime. More likely to get away with it if I try it out on her before she reads this though. Mum's the word, ya'all.
At some point the control tower called me up and asked me to tune my Sirius Radio to 184. I did but was busy using the equipment to make my employer money so I couldn't actually work out the controls or what to do. Apparently the weather station (Channel 184) allows the unit to talk to Sirius and unlock something or another. I put it on scan and after a while on and off, I got stations, I thought at first that they were all coming in in Spanish. (Later I figured out some were Spanish and some French) I, for a moment thought maybe someone was having fun at my expense. Our equipment is at times left in Spanish mode by jokesters or maybe Hispanic operators, but jokesters are more likely. The first English station I came to was The Playboy Chanel. I called up the wife from the nearest port-a-john. I told her she better hurry if she wants to get "the easy one" before The Girls Next Door do. I wondered what it would be, moans and giggles or what. Can't very well do a centerfold layout over the air.
The first thing I heard was some sort of call in game show where you had to guess what word the porn star (I assume) was hinting at and whoever wins gets some prize from Hef's grab bag. These guys were noticeably excited to be talking to the girl, but the subject matter was entirely non-sexual. This at first struck me as odd and desperate. I imagined these guys watching this girl over and over again on a worn out VHS cassette till the knew every curve of her better than perhaps she did. I thought that maybe some of them can almost make themselves believe that they "know" her. In a way, they do, I suppose. At least the version of her she chooses to share in that way.
I got to thinking that it actually did make sense for them to get exuited to be talking to her. I still look forward to random stolen moments of conversation I have with my wife from plastic toilet enclosures buffeted by winds at high elevation. I was thinking that in my younger voyeuristic days, if I had thought I could in anyway keep my voice calm and get away with it I would love to have masturbated while having a conversation with one of my guilty teen-age lust-crushes.
I think that I might just try that with my wife sometime. More likely to get away with it if I try it out on her before she reads this though. Mum's the word, ya'all.
Thursday, March 20, 2008
Earthquake... -The Husband
I kinda doubt she felt the tremors this morning since my pillow is located 310 kilometers from hers. It woke me up though. I need to be asleep because I have my second of eight 12.5 hour shifts in a few hours. Even the sleepy potion that comes when I, well, come didn't help.
I have mandatory training the day after my "on-week" ends, then I'll probably pick up another 25 hours of overtime in a couple of days then dash home bleary eyed. Small wonder that I seem to have less time for sexing and blogging these days.
My last week on was 8 successive night shifts. I woke the wife just about every time I called, and slept when she was awake. It was hard not being able to reach out from one of my mile-high-plus port-a-johns. Sitting a-top 16 growling diesel cylinders doesn't make for a very good acoustics so I retreat to "my office" to call her. So far, despite the surprisingly well maintained and relatively hygienic conditions of these portable outhouses, I have yet to engage in an audible sexual escapade from one, but desperate times....
I have mandatory training the day after my "on-week" ends, then I'll probably pick up another 25 hours of overtime in a couple of days then dash home bleary eyed. Small wonder that I seem to have less time for sexing and blogging these days.
My last week on was 8 successive night shifts. I woke the wife just about every time I called, and slept when she was awake. It was hard not being able to reach out from one of my mile-high-plus port-a-johns. Sitting a-top 16 growling diesel cylinders doesn't make for a very good acoustics so I retreat to "my office" to call her. So far, despite the surprisingly well maintained and relatively hygienic conditions of these portable outhouses, I have yet to engage in an audible sexual escapade from one, but desperate times....
Friday, February 29, 2008
"Ow! "says the reluctant sub. - The Husband.
"Owwww, that hurt," she said.
"It's supposed to," I said smacking her ass through her jeans again and reaching for a kitchen drawer.
"NO IMPLEMENTS!" She protested and closed the drawer. I ignored her and grabbed a large bamboo spoon.
About the 8th swat I recognized a little less vigorous protest and the way she sidled sideways after the swat.
"Enjoyed that last one did you?"
"I enjoyed all of them, but I have to feed the baby who is watching you, by the way."
Being the responsible parent that I am I dragged her to where a counter was between us and the cherub and bent her over same. "Let me see if I am doing any good." The red side of her left cheek just cried out to be matched on the right. So I did.
In no time her ankles were retrained by the jeans around them, and she was shamelessly crying out with cheek against the cool counter, as I pumped in and out of her from behind. Reaching around I was pinching her clit cruelly an feeling her quiver as she clamped her thighs together.
As she collapsed after a particularly violent orgasm no longer able to hold the awkward position, I steered her descent toward the floor onto a nearby step stool and grabbing a hank of hair I guided her lips around my cock just in time for her to swallow it down. Timing is everything.
"It's supposed to," I said smacking her ass through her jeans again and reaching for a kitchen drawer.
"NO IMPLEMENTS!" She protested and closed the drawer. I ignored her and grabbed a large bamboo spoon.
About the 8th swat I recognized a little less vigorous protest and the way she sidled sideways after the swat.
"Enjoyed that last one did you?"
"I enjoyed all of them, but I have to feed the baby who is watching you, by the way."
Being the responsible parent that I am I dragged her to where a counter was between us and the cherub and bent her over same. "Let me see if I am doing any good." The red side of her left cheek just cried out to be matched on the right. So I did.
In no time her ankles were retrained by the jeans around them, and she was shamelessly crying out with cheek against the cool counter, as I pumped in and out of her from behind. Reaching around I was pinching her clit cruelly an feeling her quiver as she clamped her thighs together.
As she collapsed after a particularly violent orgasm no longer able to hold the awkward position, I steered her descent toward the floor onto a nearby step stool and grabbing a hank of hair I guided her lips around my cock just in time for her to swallow it down. Timing is everything.
All work and no play. -The Husband
I have completed training for my new blue collar job. I work now 220 miles from home and stay in a campus known as "The M@n Camp. " My wife had a dream the other night that I was having an affair. Even if I managed to alter my gynophillic orientation, I am a bit fatigued by my work day. The heavy equipment I operate is much too large not to have power steering and brakes, but it is surprisingly exhausting. I awake at 5:30 each morning, and by the time I am back in camp, fed, showered and in bed its usually about 9:30. This leaves time only for a little fairly dreamless sleep.
On the plus side, after working 90-110 hours in 7-8 days I get 6-7 days off. A whole week of uninterrupted kink. Whatever shall I do.
I was sick the last few days of work and was a little relieved when my request to work an 8th successive 12.5 hour day of overtime was not granted. This left me coming home a day early. Having had my libido on hold for a week, I was surprised the the prospect of being able to come home anytime I was alert enough to spend 4 more hours on the road dodging large trucks laden with dangerous chemicals driven by idiots with anger management problems and abetted by corrupt local police departments**.
I started out at 2:00am having gotten 5 hours of sleep and having run out of decongestant. I drove an hour to the nearest 24 hour WalMart and bought some drugs that were alleged to be non-drowsy. They only widened the distance between the two sets of lines I was trying to keep my car between. Depth perception only works if you keep your eye1ss focused in the same direction. I pulled into a rest area on a reservation that seemed from the vandalism to indicated that that particular tribes youth has not made much progress towards civilization in the last 15 years. Sad really that such a once proud group of warriors descendants are reduced to "claiming" pieces of BIA property with a magic marker and pointed scratching implements. I'd have more respect I think if they would swoop down out of the hills and carjack me. That thought inspired me to amble down the road a piece to a well lit parking lot of a closed grocery where some 18 wheelers were tied down for the night. I closed my eyes a few minutes and was asleep but cramped. Deciding I was too sick and tired to drive I curled up in the back seat of my sub-compact and slept for an hour.
I finally got home nearly 6 hours after my weary journey began. The first trip up to my interview had taken only 2 hours and 45 minutes and involved losing a couple of SUV's unwisely chosen by the state police for pursuit. Given that I was too tired to enjoy a good high speed dash through mountain passes, it should be no real surprise that I wasn't that ready for sex when I got home. My brother-in-law does similar long shift work and his wife had reported that I would likely be in no condition to put out when I came home. I believed my superior libido would overcome this notion but I was wrong. It took several naps and about 15 hours of decompression before I worked up the urge to ravish the wife.
Guiding her head under the covers to my less than fully erect cock quickly reminded it what its purpose was in life. Fully turgid I found that I needed to bury it to the hilt in her. I was plunging away hissing dirty filthy things in her ear until she quickly turned the tables. I am constantly amazed how I can spin some long, involved fantasy that makes her writhe in enjoyment, and how quickly a few succinct words from her can turn that fantasy on its side and make me come long before my plans to ravish her endlessly are through.
**My last trip home a tanker laden with highly corrosive material attempted to intimidate me into exceeding the speed limit of 65 mph by a large margin. I am not opposed to speeding per se for he or I but I don't take well to bullying. Since we seemed to be playing a game of who has the largest cock I wasn't about to concede as my rig at work is easily 4 times the size of his. I finally forced him to pass my sub-compact which by the way can and has done easily double the speed limit at times. I got on my phone and was reading off the numbers on the back of his rig when he decided to slam on his rakes in a silly attempt to make me rear-end him. Turns out a 2,000 lb car with four wheel disk brakes and speed rated tires slows faster than an 18 wheeler driven by a nimrod. The local police department when I attempted to have him subjected to a sobriety test told me that I was lucky it happened in their jurisdiction as they would have cited me for impeding the flow of traffic.
On the plus side, after working 90-110 hours in 7-8 days I get 6-7 days off. A whole week of uninterrupted kink. Whatever shall I do.
I was sick the last few days of work and was a little relieved when my request to work an 8th successive 12.5 hour day of overtime was not granted. This left me coming home a day early. Having had my libido on hold for a week, I was surprised the the prospect of being able to come home anytime I was alert enough to spend 4 more hours on the road dodging large trucks laden with dangerous chemicals driven by idiots with anger management problems and abetted by corrupt local police departments**.
I started out at 2:00am having gotten 5 hours of sleep and having run out of decongestant. I drove an hour to the nearest 24 hour WalMart and bought some drugs that were alleged to be non-drowsy. They only widened the distance between the two sets of lines I was trying to keep my car between. Depth perception only works if you keep your eye1ss focused in the same direction. I pulled into a rest area on a reservation that seemed from the vandalism to indicated that that particular tribes youth has not made much progress towards civilization in the last 15 years. Sad really that such a once proud group of warriors descendants are reduced to "claiming" pieces of BIA property with a magic marker and pointed scratching implements. I'd have more respect I think if they would swoop down out of the hills and carjack me. That thought inspired me to amble down the road a piece to a well lit parking lot of a closed grocery where some 18 wheelers were tied down for the night. I closed my eyes a few minutes and was asleep but cramped. Deciding I was too sick and tired to drive I curled up in the back seat of my sub-compact and slept for an hour.
I finally got home nearly 6 hours after my weary journey began. The first trip up to my interview had taken only 2 hours and 45 minutes and involved losing a couple of SUV's unwisely chosen by the state police for pursuit. Given that I was too tired to enjoy a good high speed dash through mountain passes, it should be no real surprise that I wasn't that ready for sex when I got home. My brother-in-law does similar long shift work and his wife had reported that I would likely be in no condition to put out when I came home. I believed my superior libido would overcome this notion but I was wrong. It took several naps and about 15 hours of decompression before I worked up the urge to ravish the wife.
Guiding her head under the covers to my less than fully erect cock quickly reminded it what its purpose was in life. Fully turgid I found that I needed to bury it to the hilt in her. I was plunging away hissing dirty filthy things in her ear until she quickly turned the tables. I am constantly amazed how I can spin some long, involved fantasy that makes her writhe in enjoyment, and how quickly a few succinct words from her can turn that fantasy on its side and make me come long before my plans to ravish her endlessly are through.
**My last trip home a tanker laden with highly corrosive material attempted to intimidate me into exceeding the speed limit of 65 mph by a large margin. I am not opposed to speeding per se for he or I but I don't take well to bullying. Since we seemed to be playing a game of who has the largest cock I wasn't about to concede as my rig at work is easily 4 times the size of his. I finally forced him to pass my sub-compact which by the way can and has done easily double the speed limit at times. I got on my phone and was reading off the numbers on the back of his rig when he decided to slam on his rakes in a silly attempt to make me rear-end him. Turns out a 2,000 lb car with four wheel disk brakes and speed rated tires slows faster than an 18 wheeler driven by a nimrod. The local police department when I attempted to have him subjected to a sobriety test told me that I was lucky it happened in their jurisdiction as they would have cited me for impeding the flow of traffic.
Friday, February 8, 2008
Porn can be instructive. -The Husband.
A lot of modern porn seems to turn us off a bit. On the one hand, we aren't eager to return to the bushy 70's. On the other hand, whats with all the spitting?
One of the other things we both found a little gratuitous and not very interesting was the sequence they seem to prefer for the formulaic scenes. It always starts with fellatio. (Which is entirely as it should be of course.) It is the later sequences that seemed out of order to us.
Mouth to pussy works well for us since just putting my cock in her mouth does in fact make her verifiable wet. Pussy to mouth works OK because she does agree with me that her pussy is delicious. Ass to pussy seems to be be just asking for an infection, and an infected pussy is fun for no one. The last permutation just made me think..."Why is that fun?" Watching a porn star taking it up the ass, and then eagerly gobbling the cock seemed to me to stretch credibility.
Until we tried it.
I alluded to this earlier, but wasn't sure what I wanted to write about it our how explicitly.
The drowned rat hair, the obvious discomfort, the eagerness of her sucking...the craven look in her eyes when I had her against the wall in the shower and demanded she express how she liked it. Fingering her drenched cunt as she enthusiastically explained how slutty it felt to her.
It had come about because she was trying to be creative in an effort to get me off in a phone-sex chat we were having. It was mildly D/s related in tone, and she was enjoying some butt sex in the scene. I can't remember exactly but I think it was unintentional when she started sucking me off in her tale, and I pointed out the sequence. At some point she indicated that it would feel slutty to have me grab her by the hair and cum in her mouth after pulling out of her ass. For the days that followed that chat up until I actually got home, I threatened to make that a reality.
When I got home (this is the visit a little over 2 weeks ago), I had surprised her. I had told her I was going to be a day later getting home than I was. I walked into the bedroom to find her in "comfortable pajamas". When I started fondling her she protested that she needed a shower. I grabbed her by the hair and forced her to her knees as I unbuckled my pants. I had been freshly showered about 18 hours previously. I then spent 12 hours on a truck then 4 hours more in my car to get home. I told her I wasn't waiting for a shower before she sucked me off. I was kidding, sort of. But she went to it anyway, later telling me I tasted like a mechanic. Probably the exhaust leak under my car.
I finally let her up and into the shower which isn't really designed for two. Somehow in the shower even dirty things seem a little cleaner. She hates getting water in her eyes but complained not at all as I encouraged her to kneel and continue the blow job. At some point I told her to turn around. I had her bend over and and arrange herself at an angle uncomfortable for her but optimal for my thrusting. She said it hurt quite a bit, not this time as I would have expected from the entry but rather the depth and angle. I offered to stop but she said it felt really really good. So I obliged her further. When her whimpers got a little louder I told her that if she had had as much as she could stand of the butt-sex the only way to get out of it was to offer another orifice. She eagerly pulled off and got back on her knees. I told her that that was the sluttiest thing I had ever seen. We went back and forth 3-4 times like that. It was pretty amazing to see.
When I finally let her up and out of the water stream, her hair was a mess, but her eyes were bright. She is really good these days about acknowledging her part in our kink-fests. There was a time though that she would either be a little coy or even in denial in the cold light of day. I have issues with accepting my kinky tendencies and like to hear that we aren't doing something solely because I want it. I like to have her articulate things to make it clear that she is as turned on by things as I am. I asked her this time to tell me how she felt about me fucking her face after fucking her mouth. I wish I could recall the words she used but in the two weeks since the exact phrasing has been lost. She was most convincing in her enthusiasm.
One of the other things we both found a little gratuitous and not very interesting was the sequence they seem to prefer for the formulaic scenes. It always starts with fellatio. (Which is entirely as it should be of course.) It is the later sequences that seemed out of order to us.
Mouth to pussy works well for us since just putting my cock in her mouth does in fact make her verifiable wet. Pussy to mouth works OK because she does agree with me that her pussy is delicious. Ass to pussy seems to be be just asking for an infection, and an infected pussy is fun for no one. The last permutation just made me think..."Why is that fun?" Watching a porn star taking it up the ass, and then eagerly gobbling the cock seemed to me to stretch credibility.
Until we tried it.
I alluded to this earlier, but wasn't sure what I wanted to write about it our how explicitly.
The drowned rat hair, the obvious discomfort, the eagerness of her sucking...the craven look in her eyes when I had her against the wall in the shower and demanded she express how she liked it. Fingering her drenched cunt as she enthusiastically explained how slutty it felt to her.
It had come about because she was trying to be creative in an effort to get me off in a phone-sex chat we were having. It was mildly D/s related in tone, and she was enjoying some butt sex in the scene. I can't remember exactly but I think it was unintentional when she started sucking me off in her tale, and I pointed out the sequence. At some point she indicated that it would feel slutty to have me grab her by the hair and cum in her mouth after pulling out of her ass. For the days that followed that chat up until I actually got home, I threatened to make that a reality.
When I got home (this is the visit a little over 2 weeks ago), I had surprised her. I had told her I was going to be a day later getting home than I was. I walked into the bedroom to find her in "comfortable pajamas". When I started fondling her she protested that she needed a shower. I grabbed her by the hair and forced her to her knees as I unbuckled my pants. I had been freshly showered about 18 hours previously. I then spent 12 hours on a truck then 4 hours more in my car to get home. I told her I wasn't waiting for a shower before she sucked me off. I was kidding, sort of. But she went to it anyway, later telling me I tasted like a mechanic. Probably the exhaust leak under my car.
I finally let her up and into the shower which isn't really designed for two. Somehow in the shower even dirty things seem a little cleaner. She hates getting water in her eyes but complained not at all as I encouraged her to kneel and continue the blow job. At some point I told her to turn around. I had her bend over and and arrange herself at an angle uncomfortable for her but optimal for my thrusting. She said it hurt quite a bit, not this time as I would have expected from the entry but rather the depth and angle. I offered to stop but she said it felt really really good. So I obliged her further. When her whimpers got a little louder I told her that if she had had as much as she could stand of the butt-sex the only way to get out of it was to offer another orifice. She eagerly pulled off and got back on her knees. I told her that that was the sluttiest thing I had ever seen. We went back and forth 3-4 times like that. It was pretty amazing to see.
When I finally let her up and out of the water stream, her hair was a mess, but her eyes were bright. She is really good these days about acknowledging her part in our kink-fests. There was a time though that she would either be a little coy or even in denial in the cold light of day. I have issues with accepting my kinky tendencies and like to hear that we aren't doing something solely because I want it. I like to have her articulate things to make it clear that she is as turned on by things as I am. I asked her this time to tell me how she felt about me fucking her face after fucking her mouth. I wish I could recall the words she used but in the two weeks since the exact phrasing has been lost. She was most convincing in her enthusiasm.
My Wife is a Cheap Whore. - The Husband
I had a couple of days off again and limped home trying to save as much gas as possible on the 200 mile trip. In the past, the best I have managed in the "Midlife-Crisis-Mobile" was about 26 MPG and often less than 20. Coasting downhill, and keeping the tach far below my usual 8,200 RPM shifts yielded an impressive 35 MPG. Economizing in this way got me home for about $16. The trip back uphill cost a little more so I figure I spent about $35 to come home for the express purpose of fucking my wife.I got home and found that dishes were a little behind so I pitched in a couple of hours of general housework. Since I muddied the clothes myself I am not counting my labor doing my laundry that I brought back with me. I figure my labor was worth say minimum wage so add another $10 or so.The water main was broken. I spent a couple of hours with the teenager's assistance excavating that. Since he did most of the heavy work there, I earned supervisor's wages there so figure about $25 more. Repairing the pipe is Plumber's work so that has to be worth a minimum $50 service fee. I am not counting the labor filling the trench back in, because she helped with that. It was pretty hard, muddy work. Come to think of it thought she does like getting dirty so maybe I should charge for that.The original plan was a repeat of our previous ass-to-mouth filthiness. I had called her en route and the plan was to have her on her knees by the front door, mouth agape as I dropped trou. It was not to be as the toddler was awake and active. We did manage to eventually manage a little privacy and after a little fellatio foreplay, and tried out a new position with her back against the wall and a foot on the doorknob. The next round we tried a little more conventional bed-sex to the enjoyment of all. I threatened her with some butt sex for the round three but my punch list of throat/cunt/ass did not actually get completed before I did. I was fairly impressed with myself for actually getting off three times in just a little over 24 hours. Yay for my leaner, easier-getting-off, Prozac-free body.I am scheduled to work 7 pm to 7 am tonight so I didn't have to leave quite as early. In an effort to get on a graveyard sleep schedule the plan was to stay up late Thursday night possibly fucking her up the ass, then make the drive up and sleep Friday morning. I was a little tired from pipe-laying so I decided to get a little pre-coital nap. The nap lasted till 4 am, at which time I needed to leave. So round four consisted of a peck on the cheek as I headed out the door. I got to the work camp 45 minutes late to have breakfast, and too awake to sleep. I might as well have stayed home and taken advantage of her general horniness again. For years my drive exceeded her rather ample drive by a large margin. I feel I am just about as driven as ever. My ability to recover quickly and go again though is diminished a bit with age. She remarked that at this point her interest probably slightly exceeds mine at this point. This is a very good thing. Its nice to have it whenever the whim strikes me. That is assuming I happen to be in the same zip code. Cruel irony that we are physically separated lately when we are as emotionally close as we have been in a long time.I figure I spent cash and labor of about $120 to get off 3 times. So at $40 each time for no-holes-barred sex with the full G.F.E. ("GirlFriend Experience") is indeed a bargain. I defy you to find a better whore in any English speaking country for less than two Jacksons.
Saturday, February 2, 2008
Ship's that pass..... -The Husband.
I only had Friday off, and it is impractical to make a 450 mile round trip and be back to work and sharp in less than 24 hours.
The Wife loaded up The Kids in The Minivan and made the drive. Several miscues including me turning off my cellphone instead of just ending a call later, I arrived at the same location she was headed to, close to the job site, and several hours drive for her. She arrived a bit fatigued from the drive, and I was more tired than I expected after two weeks of getting up hours before the time I was accustomed to.
Waiting for the toddler to fall asleep I was out hard. I woke up at about 4:30 to sue the bathroom and despite trying to be quiet woke her up. After we both tried to go back to sleep for a while, she got up to go to the bathroom and decided I was already back to sleep. She then got up with the rest of the early to work household we were visiting. After she didn't return for a while I fell to sleep.
We had a great time with the kids the next day, all very interesting but not very blog-worthy in this venue. We took a drive to the site, they got to see the heavy equipment at a pretty close range. We drove a bit further and higher and caught some trees and had a snowball fight. Wife mentioned the long drive for so far no affection not even a kiss. I, having forgotten my toothbrush the night gave her a sincere but closed mouth kiss. We groped and fondled a bit when the opportunity presented. (rarely)
On the trip down the twisty, guard-rail-less, road, I felt my eyelids droop. I pulled over to rest them, and the kids begged to scramble again in the snow. As they left the van I realized we were alone at long last. I looked over at her and confirmed she had thought the same thing. Then I took a nap. Sad. Really, kind of pathetic.
After a brief respite, one of the kids clomped into and then back out of the van. Repeatedly. I pointed out to The Fellatio Artist that it was in fact Friday, and that in keeping with Fellatio Friday, I really should let her suck it. She gave me a bemusedly tolerant look, but in fact did bend over to my seat pretty agreeably once I unbuttoned my fly. She made a good effort but the vertigo of the road took its toll on her. The proximity of the kids took a toll on me. Eventually she sat up and I continued the stimulation on my own as she watched and occasionally gave it a lick and a promise as she called it. At some point one of the kids came over to the van, then crossed behind and came unexpectedly right to my window.... If not for his short height and quick reflexes on my part, he would be talking about that in therapy for years.
So, she made the 450 mile round trip for a quick kiss, and got the short end of the bargain trading it for half a blow job.
This job is seriously impacting our, ahem, intimate life.
The Wife loaded up The Kids in The Minivan and made the drive. Several miscues including me turning off my cellphone instead of just ending a call later, I arrived at the same location she was headed to, close to the job site, and several hours drive for her. She arrived a bit fatigued from the drive, and I was more tired than I expected after two weeks of getting up hours before the time I was accustomed to.
Waiting for the toddler to fall asleep I was out hard. I woke up at about 4:30 to sue the bathroom and despite trying to be quiet woke her up. After we both tried to go back to sleep for a while, she got up to go to the bathroom and decided I was already back to sleep. She then got up with the rest of the early to work household we were visiting. After she didn't return for a while I fell to sleep.
We had a great time with the kids the next day, all very interesting but not very blog-worthy in this venue. We took a drive to the site, they got to see the heavy equipment at a pretty close range. We drove a bit further and higher and caught some trees and had a snowball fight. Wife mentioned the long drive for so far no affection not even a kiss. I, having forgotten my toothbrush the night gave her a sincere but closed mouth kiss. We groped and fondled a bit when the opportunity presented. (rarely)
On the trip down the twisty, guard-rail-less, road, I felt my eyelids droop. I pulled over to rest them, and the kids begged to scramble again in the snow. As they left the van I realized we were alone at long last. I looked over at her and confirmed she had thought the same thing. Then I took a nap. Sad. Really, kind of pathetic.
After a brief respite, one of the kids clomped into and then back out of the van. Repeatedly. I pointed out to The Fellatio Artist that it was in fact Friday, and that in keeping with Fellatio Friday, I really should let her suck it. She gave me a bemusedly tolerant look, but in fact did bend over to my seat pretty agreeably once I unbuttoned my fly. She made a good effort but the vertigo of the road took its toll on her. The proximity of the kids took a toll on me. Eventually she sat up and I continued the stimulation on my own as she watched and occasionally gave it a lick and a promise as she called it. At some point one of the kids came over to the van, then crossed behind and came unexpectedly right to my window.... If not for his short height and quick reflexes on my part, he would be talking about that in therapy for years.
So, she made the 450 mile round trip for a quick kiss, and got the short end of the bargain trading it for half a blow job.
This job is seriously impacting our, ahem, intimate life.
Tuesday, January 29, 2008
No Contact Celibacy. - The Husband.
Not even two hand touch above the waist. Internet's down at home. Vonage is forwarding calls to my cell phone wearing down the battery and subjecting me to bill collectors...
Monday, January 28, 2008
Spousal Maintenance. - The Geek
I had been a couple of hundred miles from home for all of six days. This, I think, may have been the longest we have been apart for 15 years. We kinked by chat and by phone to good effect, but it isn't quite the same as the touch, taste, smell, sight and sounds all at once.
I spent 12 hours on a piece of heavy equipment on Saturday and had wifey convinced that I had more sense than to make the trip home without at least several hours of rest. I did have the sense to be extra careful and mindful of fatigue. I had already packed my car the night before, so when the Mr. Slate blew the whistle, I slid down the dinosaurs neck and dashed to the car. Sticking my bare feet through the cut-out in the floor of the rock-mobile , I yabba-dabba-doo'd on out of there.
My best E.T. for the trip so far has been 2.75 hours. This time I took my time and went slow partly to conserve gas, partly the car (which is overdue for an 1/2 shaft), and mostly my life. Much as I appreciate an adrenaline fueled dash through the twisties, realistically, my reflexes would not have been optimum. I got out of work about a half hour early, and delayed calling home for the rest giving me a one hour head start. I mumbled a series of tasks that I would be doing in preparation for rest and the trip the next day as I coasted down a grade with the engine off, muting the phone as cars and trucks roared by the other way. I found myself in a pretty hazardous situation when she got a little chatty and I lost my inertia on an upgrade and rolled to a stop. I begged off and attempted to re-start. Bad relay. I tried to back over to the shoulder, but this spot had about six feet between the guardrail and the lane, no good. Flashers on, eyes on the rear-view, I banged under the dash at the offending relay, curses and prayers in equal measures. It started.
From then on, I left it running and dodged and weaved every time she called. I made up errands on top of errands. By the time I got around to asking her "What are you wearing?" I had my hand on the knob and was able to see that yes, she is in fact wearing ugly pajamas.
I had in my mind holding back my animal desires and enjoying some soft gentle lovemaking. Later she mentioned that she had envisioned freshly done hair, sheets, make-up and lingerie for my homecoming and slow languid intimacy. The problem with both plans is we had been getting progressively kinkier with each nights phone call, and its hard to put kink back in the box. The rough and dirty butt-sex and slurpy fellatio of our phone-sex was actually not too far from the actual events.
Be careful what you role play, you might find yourself bent over in the shower, soap in your eyes cycling through the third of fourth iteration of ass to mouth.
I spent 12 hours on a piece of heavy equipment on Saturday and had wifey convinced that I had more sense than to make the trip home without at least several hours of rest. I did have the sense to be extra careful and mindful of fatigue. I had already packed my car the night before, so when the Mr. Slate blew the whistle, I slid down the dinosaurs neck and dashed to the car. Sticking my bare feet through the cut-out in the floor of the rock-mobile , I yabba-dabba-doo'd on out of there.
My best E.T. for the trip so far has been 2.75 hours. This time I took my time and went slow partly to conserve gas, partly the car (which is overdue for an 1/2 shaft), and mostly my life. Much as I appreciate an adrenaline fueled dash through the twisties, realistically, my reflexes would not have been optimum. I got out of work about a half hour early, and delayed calling home for the rest giving me a one hour head start. I mumbled a series of tasks that I would be doing in preparation for rest and the trip the next day as I coasted down a grade with the engine off, muting the phone as cars and trucks roared by the other way. I found myself in a pretty hazardous situation when she got a little chatty and I lost my inertia on an upgrade and rolled to a stop. I begged off and attempted to re-start. Bad relay. I tried to back over to the shoulder, but this spot had about six feet between the guardrail and the lane, no good. Flashers on, eyes on the rear-view, I banged under the dash at the offending relay, curses and prayers in equal measures. It started.
From then on, I left it running and dodged and weaved every time she called. I made up errands on top of errands. By the time I got around to asking her "What are you wearing?" I had my hand on the knob and was able to see that yes, she is in fact wearing ugly pajamas.
I had in my mind holding back my animal desires and enjoying some soft gentle lovemaking. Later she mentioned that she had envisioned freshly done hair, sheets, make-up and lingerie for my homecoming and slow languid intimacy. The problem with both plans is we had been getting progressively kinkier with each nights phone call, and its hard to put kink back in the box. The rough and dirty butt-sex and slurpy fellatio of our phone-sex was actually not too far from the actual events.
Be careful what you role play, you might find yourself bent over in the shower, soap in your eyes cycling through the third of fourth iteration of ass to mouth.
Thursday, January 24, 2008
Phone Sex - The Husband
I really really like to audible stimulation. From a low moan, to a mewling, to a gasp, to a rich fantasy with lots of detail.
A couple of days ago I send her some naughty pictures with me in a fedora, an open shirt, boots and a smile. I found that coordinating the self-timer with my somewhat camera-shy unit kind of difficult. Out of habit, I tensed my abdominal muscles even though I no longer have what could be described as a gut to suck in. I ended up with an odd goofy expression in most of the shots. I resolved to to better. On a friends blog, she mentioned that something about a man's pants down around his ankles, exposed and vulnerable excited her so I was thinking of taking a picture or video clip like that.
I was just so engaged in visual and physical acrobatics when my wife called. I explained what I was doing and mentioned that I wasn't getting the full attention and cooperation of the star of my production in that relatively cold room, and could she make like a fluffer, verbally.
She did an began some description of her time with the new dolphin vibe, and engaged in a little digital enhancement on her end which improved the sound quality by the moans her digits stroking her pussy elicited. I got a couple of video clips and thought I was close to er, drenching the camera at a couple of these 15 second clip intervals, but found that when ever I got into my left brain to set the camera, I'd have to begin the build-up mentally again. Physically the actor was on stage ready to perform, but he tends to like to give very long performances and isn't very good at fill in work and quick action stunts.
My wife shifted gears a bit and began to spin a lovely tale that featured some fictionalized version of some our online acquaintances. This encouraged me over to the twin bed in my small, spartan work-camp domicile. I kept the camera at hand and occasionally lazily shot a picture here a video clip there, but used a bit of the artistic right side of the brain. This didn't seem to cause the stop and start feeling of that tantalizingly delicious sequence of sensations that seems to build, and tickle, and constrict and engorge, and eventually release in a usually barely anticipated orgasms. "I was cleaning it and it went off!" always seemed an apt description to me.
This time, camera more or less ready, set to vid clip, aimed in the general direction, I watched fascinated as this time, with her melodic whispers and lush story caused me to as best I can describe it, spring a leak. I didn't feel quite the usually holding back then surging urgency. It was nice and gentle and building to a gentle pleasant liquid warmth. It was an amazing amount of pr-ejaculated, forming at the tip then gently tickling down the head, hanging on the ridge then racing down the shaft. I watched in the view screen amazed this was on the camera until I realized it was on the camera (screen) not in the camera (recorded.) I hit the button and got a 15 second clip. I am burying this clip in a much older post, lest the sight of a cock in the post without a mouth on or near it offends those, who like I have an irrational revulsion to such. I mean why is it fascinating to watch balls tighten then an explosion of all over a cum-slut's outstretched tongue and face, but by it self it seems, well, gay? I dunno, but the feeling is what it is.
The night before that we had had some conversations that may have violated some obscure vulgarity clause in F.C.C. regulations, I hadn't completed so there was some stored up potential energy and matter in the flow. It came out thicker and with slightly more volume than is typical for me.
I remember a sperm count test..the girl actually said to me "Is that all." I wasn't being tested for quantity, but quality. Feeling small I wanted to say, that maybe some got absorbed by the long length of their journey out. A surgery and siring 4 more kids since has convinced me that guys that brag about how they will flood you with copious quantities of cum might have more protein on offer, but a little dab will do you as it were, procreatively speaking.
I thought she had heard me when I told her, "...And now, SLEEP..". when I came. Evidently she did not realize I was 'done' so to speak. Tirelessly, she weaved a plot that had me involved in the voyeuristic and exhibitionist aspects to the story. She teased on as I dressed, pulled on boots, clomped down the 100 yard length of the hall, across the gravel over to the cyber cafe and uploaded the clip. She said later why didn't you stop me when you came. I explained that being aroused again as I walked was thoroughly enjoyable as was the tale itself. as she finished I had my ear speaker on its lowest setting and I hope she wasn't entertaining the troops as it were.
So I stripped; she talked; I came. I uploaded a clip.
A couple of days ago I send her some naughty pictures with me in a fedora, an open shirt, boots and a smile. I found that coordinating the self-timer with my somewhat camera-shy unit kind of difficult. Out of habit, I tensed my abdominal muscles even though I no longer have what could be described as a gut to suck in. I ended up with an odd goofy expression in most of the shots. I resolved to to better. On a friends blog, she mentioned that something about a man's pants down around his ankles, exposed and vulnerable excited her so I was thinking of taking a picture or video clip like that.
I was just so engaged in visual and physical acrobatics when my wife called. I explained what I was doing and mentioned that I wasn't getting the full attention and cooperation of the star of my production in that relatively cold room, and could she make like a fluffer, verbally.
She did an began some description of her time with the new dolphin vibe, and engaged in a little digital enhancement on her end which improved the sound quality by the moans her digits stroking her pussy elicited. I got a couple of video clips and thought I was close to er, drenching the camera at a couple of these 15 second clip intervals, but found that when ever I got into my left brain to set the camera, I'd have to begin the build-up mentally again. Physically the actor was on stage ready to perform, but he tends to like to give very long performances and isn't very good at fill in work and quick action stunts.
My wife shifted gears a bit and began to spin a lovely tale that featured some fictionalized version of some our online acquaintances. This encouraged me over to the twin bed in my small, spartan work-camp domicile. I kept the camera at hand and occasionally lazily shot a picture here a video clip there, but used a bit of the artistic right side of the brain. This didn't seem to cause the stop and start feeling of that tantalizingly delicious sequence of sensations that seems to build, and tickle, and constrict and engorge, and eventually release in a usually barely anticipated orgasms. "I was cleaning it and it went off!" always seemed an apt description to me.
This time, camera more or less ready, set to vid clip, aimed in the general direction, I watched fascinated as this time, with her melodic whispers and lush story caused me to as best I can describe it, spring a leak. I didn't feel quite the usually holding back then surging urgency. It was nice and gentle and building to a gentle pleasant liquid warmth. It was an amazing amount of pr-ejaculated, forming at the tip then gently tickling down the head, hanging on the ridge then racing down the shaft. I watched in the view screen amazed this was on the camera until I realized it was on the camera (screen) not in the camera (recorded.) I hit the button and got a 15 second clip. I am burying this clip in a much older post, lest the sight of a cock in the post without a mouth on or near it offends those, who like I have an irrational revulsion to such. I mean why is it fascinating to watch balls tighten then an explosion of all over a cum-slut's outstretched tongue and face, but by it self it seems, well, gay? I dunno, but the feeling is what it is.
The night before that we had had some conversations that may have violated some obscure vulgarity clause in F.C.C. regulations, I hadn't completed so there was some stored up potential energy and matter in the flow. It came out thicker and with slightly more volume than is typical for me.
I remember a sperm count test..the girl actually said to me "Is that all." I wasn't being tested for quantity, but quality. Feeling small I wanted to say, that maybe some got absorbed by the long length of their journey out. A surgery and siring 4 more kids since has convinced me that guys that brag about how they will flood you with copious quantities of cum might have more protein on offer, but a little dab will do you as it were, procreatively speaking.
I thought she had heard me when I told her, "...And now, SLEEP..". when I came. Evidently she did not realize I was 'done' so to speak. Tirelessly, she weaved a plot that had me involved in the voyeuristic and exhibitionist aspects to the story. She teased on as I dressed, pulled on boots, clomped down the 100 yard length of the hall, across the gravel over to the cyber cafe and uploaded the clip. She said later why didn't you stop me when you came. I explained that being aroused again as I walked was thoroughly enjoyable as was the tale itself. as she finished I had my ear speaker on its lowest setting and I hope she wasn't entertaining the troops as it were.
So I stripped; she talked; I came. I uploaded a clip.
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