the stories
3/17/2005 1:00 PM
It was sixteen years ago. It was college days. He was living with two other guys (roommates) and I was over and we were all getting drunk.
As the night drug on and the alcohol started winning, he offered to blow me. I knew that he'd had some bisexual experiences as early as high school, so I figured the offer was genuine. When his roommates confirmed that he'd already blown them, I knew it was.
The other guy went to bed and I accompanied him to his bedroom. I'm not sure how I got my pants off, but I'm sure he didn't help. He wasn't that anxious.
There's essentially no difference between a man's mouth and a woman's mouth. The only difference is that which applies to lesbian encounters--a person of the same sex knows what you want better than a person of the opposite sex.
He was sure not to touch me in anyway except with his mouth. It was dandy, I suppose, but I was drunk and only have snapshots of the scene. (I am however stiffening as I write this.)
Probably a minute into the escapade it happened. I don't know why. Part of it is simple physiology. Part is the alcohol. I've always thought a large part was my Freudian discomfort with the situation, but it happened.
I farted.
Of course he informed me that it was "just rude" and kicked me out of bed. I can't say I was upset about it. I know I apologized.
Over the next sixteen years I offered to return the favor. Always when at least he was drunk, more often when we both were. I remember our 10th class reunion, I offered when we both got back to my house, but he was too out of it to even respond.
Another occasion was just last year after a case of Ice beer. He response was "do you know what you're doing?" That just pissed me off and I withdrew the offer.
I don't know what ever inspired me to offer. Perhaps it was curiosity. Yeah, I'm sure that's what it was. I certainly didn't feel indebted to him for a blow job that didn't even give me an orgasm.
Friday, September 19th, 2003.It was a box of wine this time. We were both feeling loose. We were alone at his place.
I offered.
He accepted.
We went into his bedroom and he de-panted and laid back on his bed.
The running joke since junior high school was about how small his penis was. He is very self-depricating, so the jokes were usually coming from his mouth. I'd watched him and a girlfriend have marathon sex once, so I knew not to expect much, and I wasn't disappointed. He told me once that he was able to "partake" of a deep-throat, but I really have no idea how.
I took all of four inches with ease and began as he did--a simple mouth contact. I decided, however, not to be the pussy he'd been all those years ago. I knew that sucking cock was sucking cock whether your hands were involved or not.
I worked his shaft with my hand--okay, two fingers--as I twirled my tongue around his firm-yet-soft member. (It struck me that it was less in texture like a hot dog than I'd imagined.)
His sighs were the kind inspired by relaxation as I sped up the pace.
I tasted the saltiness of his precum and kept at it knowing "it" would be soon and having decided years ago that if I ever sucked a guy's cock, I'd swallow.
Then he started giggling.
I stopped and he explained that he was always a little ticklish after.
That was it? A little trickle of cum? If you can't supply me with a normal-sized cock, at least reward me with a significant ejaculation.
He made excuses that he'd masturbated earlier or whatever, but it didn't sound sincere.
I mean I easily spurt a tablespoon and on a really good day almost two, but this was like a half a teaspoon. And diluted with my saliva, I almost missed it.
Oh, well.
I did it. And, yes, it turned me on. And we went to a strip club after to "cleanse the palette."
I was still tasting his cum a week later, at least in my mind, but I'd completed that act of curiosity.
You know what? I'm still not bi, but I'd like to see what it'd be like with a bigger cock. I probably never will, but you never know.
As he always tells me, "By and by, we're all bi."
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11/17/2003 8:05 AM
10/17/2003 1:31 PM
I am meeting the girl referenced in the last post tonight for dinner. I'll call her Mouseketeer for reasons known only to me. I haven't seen a picture but she claims I won't be disappointed. I don't think I will.
Also, tomorrow night I have a date with a girl I just talked to yesterday.
When it rains, it pours.
I've shared email with at least two more.
I think it made a big difference when I changed my picture on my personals from a serious look to a smiling one.
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10/16/2003 9:03 AM
I had a nice chat and then a phone call with a new woman last night. (Frankly this doesn't mean much, I'm sure she'll stop talking to me soon enough. Most of them do.)
In the course of the chat she joked that her pubic hair was "half black and half red."
Me: Intentionally?
Her: I was born that way!
Me: That must have been a huge shock to your grandma the first time she changed your diaper!
Anyway, there's a pretty good chance we'll meet for dinner soon.
But that's what I thought about the woman I met online two weeks ago and after three promises to call me back, she hasn't.
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10/06/2003 3:39 PM
Sorry I haven't posted in a while.
I will soon, I hope.
Teaser: I met the phone conversation girl in her town. Sex ensued. The next weekend, I kissed someone, and it was better than the sex the week before.
For all of those female readers that enjoy stories of male masturbation, here's a really good entry from a site that recently linked me:
Handjobs 101
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9/18/2003 11:22 PM
Her small voice drifts though my headset and enters my blood. As her innocent conversation, lightly peppered with descriptions of what she'll do to me, goes on, the voice in my blood fills my sex.
For the third night in a row the innocent and not innocent conversation is accompanied by my utter, unwavering hardness.
She knows I'm touching myself lightly as we talk about her brother breaking the law or my ex's antics. That every time she follows a trivial point about her shopping day with a comment about her oral technique, my voice cracks as my two-fingered touch turns into a fist around myself. She hears the stroking in my voice and chooses to ignore it, only saying "wait a while" when she knows I'm overheating.
I think about the weekend we spent in her hometown in a Red Roof Inn, stoned and fucking and licking and sucking and how I gave myself an orgasm while she passionately danced her tongue in my mouth.
She was my first after I separated from my wife. She was only the second in my life. She emailed after that flight to Boston last July and propositioned me in no uncertain terms.
I turned her down.
I was married.
Then my wife moved a tattooed asshole in and I called her.
And I went.
And now, after a period of non-communication and her move several states away, we talk. She talks about how great she thinks I am; how she was scared to get to close.
I think about her side job as a Dominatrix and Foot Fetish Model.
I listen to her and I talk to her and I touch myself.
When it's time to go, we seem to agree that it's time to come. Without a word for a cue, we both become quiet. My breathing is labored. She growls in my ear, knowing it's affect on me. She listens to my breath leave me and the panicked sound of my hoarse whisper-yell as my fist replaces her mouth and my orgasm overtakes me.
She says "good night."
And we hang up.
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11:21 PM
I'm glad I didn't get my hopes up. Therefore, I was not disappointed.
Picture a young Edie McClurg (Ferris Bueller's School Secretary, the "you're fucked" car rental lady from
Plains, Trains and Automobiles). She'd already told me she liked NASCAR and peppered her conversations with double-negatives. I shouldn't have even agreed to meet. But what the hell? You only live once. I don't regret the experience. It was coffee and a nice chat and a lot of me staring at the tiny yet angry patches of red skin where she'd waxed her moustache.
She was lower-middle class midwest with a clearly limited outlook on life.
If she was hot, I still don't know that I'd be interested. She'd probably get along well with Homely Person.
Hopefully I have a date with a new cutie from the Personals this weekend. We're shooting for Saturday.
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5:25 PM
I'm having a blind coffee date in five minutes. Met her online, but haven't seen a picture. I don't have high hopes, but I thought, "what the hell? We only work 2 minutes from each other, it's not like we're investing anything in this meeting."
More to follow.
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10:50 AM
9/02/2003 2:01 PM
Hung out with LibGirl for about five hours Saturday night, caressing nearly every square inch of her beautiful body as her and I and my friend Flounder talked.
"You're gonna have to move, hon," I said after she'd laid with her butt in my lap for about a half an hour, "your crushing my dick."
"I thought that was the point," she flirted back, eyes crinkling.
She had a crop-top on and was lying on her back ay one point. I was caressing her pale, flat belly--thinking about how it would look flexing in the throes of sex--and I was overwhelmed with the need to kiss her navel. I mouthed that to her as she talked with Flounder, and she nodded encouragingly.
Soft. Warm. Sweet-smelling. Kiss.
Alas.
It's a good time when her husband is gone.
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8/29/2003 4:09 PM
I ended up asking LibGirl to join me at the bar on Wednesday. The cool thing about LibGirl is that she is flexible (yes, that way too). She would have been equally happy to go as my wingman or as my date. We've had what she calls an "intimate friendship" for about thirteen years. This essentially means that we are great friends and sometimes--if one of us is in need of an ego boost or we are both looking to uncomplicated intimacy (except intercourse)--we can be somewhat physical.
As we approached the bar we decided that she'd start in wingman mode, but when it soon became evident that there would be no one in this particular establishment on this particular night that I'd be interested in approaching, she gracefully slipped into "date" mode.
LibGirl is a striking, tall, thin brunette with long, dark tresses that she wears flat. She is in possession of a sensuality that is at once both confident and insecure. She was looking especially stunning that night in tight fitting, hip-hugger capris and a white sleeveless button-down shirt that she knotted to show her midriff upon entering the bar. As we watched the band, I rubbed her neck and back and pulled her hair. Her taste for having her hair pulled baffles me somewhat, but knowing her as I do, I set about the task of giving the woman what she likes.
"I love you hair," I whisper-shouted in her ear over the poorly-mixed blues emanating from the stage.
She turned her head and kissed me in gratitude, She leaned back against me, my shaft stiffening against her well-formed denim-clad derriere. She likes to know that she makes men hard. It feed her ego and helps her to put away insecurities. Things were good.
I kissed her J-Spot
1. She told me that it felt "nice." "Nice" has been the buzzword of our sexual relationship over the years. Not only are we opposite ideologically, but we also have very little in common sexually. I think it's the challenge of finding the elusive switches that turn her on that have kept our relationship new for so long.
Eventually, we left and walked past the Police Station and through my city's version of Central Park. Near the park's dormant reflecting fountains, we kissed some more but she found herself unable to navigate my facial hair.
"How do other women do it?" she asked, brushing my moustache down.
"They turn their head more," I smiled back at her.
We tried it with a greater transverse angle between us to no avail.
I picked up her perfect, thin, body to may waist and she wrapped her legs around me.
"This is why I want to date a thin woman," I said, grinding my erection against her nether regions, "I want to be able to pick her up and fuck her like this."
She smiled and eventually dismounted and we turned in the general direction of my car. We stopped near a stone bench on the deserted patio of the city court house and police station. I sat down facing her and pulled her toward me. I sat with the side of my face nestled against her well-shaped breasts and listened to--and felt--her heartbeat.
She propped her right foot up on the bench and I caressed her beautiful ass through the tightly stretched denim, eventually working my way toward and against her warm genital area as we talked. (Of course, unlike every other woman, I'd been with, this did very little for her, and thus did not seem as intimate as it sounds.) The position was very nice though, and I'll have to file it back with window shopping as a nice way to step up intimacy on a date.
We finally kissed and walked back to my car. She rubbed my thigh and scrotum on the way back to her house. After a quick kiss in the car as I parked beside her house, her husband came out and said "hi" to let us know he was there and the fun was over.
She smiled, opened the door and left.
______________
1 "Japanese Spot" - the spot in the center of the back of the neck at the hairline, purported to be a favorite stimulation point of Japanese lovers.
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8/27/2003 1:48 PM
Despite
Bunnie's advice to "make something up about a wounded heart," I took the high road.
Clearly,
Aleks had a point:
Why are you wasting your time? Life's too short to go through all the rigamarole of bedding people to which you have no attraction. There's obviously a big imbalance in power here. You should let the poor girl down easy and forget about it.
I have not yet, despite my relative coldness, been able to convince Homely Someone that nothing is going to happen. Just today, she invited me on a trip over the upcoming holiday weekend. She insists it'd just be friends, but I somehow doubt it. Nor am I inclined to vacation with her to begin with, regardless of the circumstances.
I failed to meet with LDG last Friday due to a comedy of telephonic mishaps, but we've set a meeting for a week from Friday. I am to return some of her things and we are to spend a bit of time together.
Speaking with her on the phone last night, I teased her about what she claimed my tongue did to her neck. She wistfully comment that no one had come close to doing that to her since we'd parted. That's a nice thought. And complimentary. Hey, she's the one that brought up the notion of perhaps being fuck buddies, so I'm going to go with the flow on that one.
Finally, I am going
out tonight. Sick of reading about what
Bunnie and
wKen do when they go to bars, I'm going to dive in. Yes, it's a Wednesday, but you have to start somewhere!
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8/25/2003 3:50 PM
Well, that's interesting. Homely Someone just sent a gift to my work in apology for not calling me last weekend to set up a time for her to come over. (She hasn't yet.) She's coming over tonight.
What's terrifically odd is that I'm not remotely attracted to this woman, but she so obviously is to me. She's really nice and all, but not my type and not really physically attractive.
As I mentioned before, however, there is a very small temptation to levereage her attraction toward me toward sexual gains. That's really fucking disgusting. Such a "guy" thing to do. What does the slut bible say to do in this instance?
Bunnie? Where are you when I need you?
Yeah, it's a terrifically shitty thing to do, so I won't. On the other hand, if there's no leverage involved and she throws herself at me, then all bets are off.
I like blogs. You can be so damned hypothetical.
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8/19/2003 1:23 PM
NotJewish met me a restaurant near where I was staying.
I came into the bar and she was every bit as stunning as she was the night before. He thin, pale body accentuated by dark eyes and dark hair and the suggestion of firm b-cups under her blouse. Her smile for me was as radiant.
I sat beside her as she finished her conversation with the lady beside her. She told the woman that she really wanted kids, so she was going to marry me and move across the country. I told her that it sure beat the hell out of stretch marks.
She assured me she was kidding and I put our name in for a table.
We sat at the bar drinking beer in a odd parody of the night before--knees and arms touching, eyes contacting, hearts melting.
When we were called for our booth, she sat across from me. I was disappointed that I wasn't next to her, but it seemed to be the way she wanted it.
I caressed her ankle with my foot as we talked and ate. During our conversation she made a completely intelligent and logical argument as to why things were not necessarily in the last place she looked.
Recall my list of ideals for a woman: debate for the sake of debate.
Her argument made me hard. Nothing is a greater turn on for me than mental sparring.
I longed to feel those lips again and I asked her what we were doing after we ate. When was I going to kiss her again?
She said all that we'd do is walk out and she'd give me a kiss goodbye and she'd be on her way.
I told her that I'd intended a little more kissing than she'd be comfortable with in the middle of a parking lot.
After we ate, we took a walk down the strip mall, hand-in-hand, window shopping (look! it's a motif!). At the abandoned end of the strip mall we stopped.
"Now what?" she asked.
I answered by taking her face in my hands and drawing her mouth to mine.
Immediately her hand went to the back of my head and pulled me into her. No closed mouth this time. Her teeth parted almost immediately, but no father than they had the night before. Our tongue-tips danced and our hands caressed. I once again moved a hand down and pulled her into me.
We escaped into the kiss, the world falling away from around us.
We broke and she said "okay, that's enough."
Not taking know for an answer, I kissed her jaw, drawing a line across the ridge with my tongue and then kissing fervently where her jaw and ear came together.
She gave me a melty look that had only one translation:
"Dammit, if you lived here, I'd fuck you right now."
I accepted that as a compliment.
We finally started to walk back from whence we came and I stopped to take her picture. I honestly wanted a record of how beautiful this woman was that liked me so much as to kiss me when she had no intention of it, to open her heart just a little to a guy who she'd likely never see again.
An old couple came along and took our picture together.
We walked back to her car and she gave me a good-bye kiss as promised.
"Are you sure I can't sit in your car for a minute?" I asked.
"Well, okay," she relented too quickly, "but you'll have to sit on all that stuff."
"Gladly!"
She cleaned off her front seat and I got in her car. She turned the air conditioning on and I leaned in, my right hand cupping the left side of her jaw, and the soft, wonderful joining occurred again. Again the world fell away. Again her cautious, yet insistent kiss drew life's breath from me. Again our tongues danced and our teeth grazed.
Our kisses became shorter as she noted that her car was going to overheat.
I got out and she looked at my erection again. And again she smiled.
As she pulled out of the lot around the gas station on the frontage road, I called her cell to pay another compliment and say another goodbye. She was at the gas station talking to another guy about how to put coolant in her car.
I told her I had some in my trunk and pulled around just in time to save her from buying coolant to put in her windshield wiper reservoir.
I topped up her coolant and she kissed me again. A brief, public kiss, but full of parting magic.
Epilogue
The other night, I thought about her alone and hard in my dark bedroom, my hand beneath the sheets. I thought about the inane debate at the restaurant and the way her eyes danced when she was being coy. Just the thought of how she talked and how she rubbed against me on the barstools sent me near the precipice.
The thought of kissing her, her teeth on my tongue, sent me over it.
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8/18/2003 5:55 PM
"I'm not going to kiss you, so you might as well forget about that," she said with a coy smile and a dismissive wave.
Sitting at the bar an hour before, she'd given me a bright "Hi!" and we'd exchanged names.
Ten minutes before that, my friend playing guitar in the band had given me a wild-eyed, big-toothed grin when he saw her enter the bar. It was a look that said "did you fucking see that?!" and I gave him a look that confirmed I had.
The cute, yet inconsequential, black girl had come back in to see some more of my friend's blues band play. She sat beside the stunning, thin brunette with Jewish features to face the band.
I'd considered approaching the black girl with the orange t-shirt and big smile earlier when she was in, but her friends had dragged her off. I was happy to see her return. I hopped onto the barstool beside her and said "you just couldn't stay away could you?"
She confirmed that she just loved this band but within minutes was being dragged back out the door by her friend from earlier.
When she vacated her stool, I was left staring at this vision who couldn't have been more than twenty-six, but who turned out to be thirty-two. She gave me a beautiful, toothy smile--the kind of smile that renders me without concept of space or time--and said "Hi!"
"Hi!"
She started to say something and I moved onto the vacant stool between us so I could hear her over the band.
I asker her name and she told me what it was and said she wasn't Jewish though her name was and her Father was.
"Pleased to meet you, NotJewish, I'm Scur."
"I have a box on my desk that an artist friend of mine made for me with a frog in it. Everyone keeps stopping by my desk and saying 'hey! Nice box!' and "hey! You have a beautiful box!' Do they not hear themselves? Do they not see the innuendo?"
"Has anyone offered to lick it?"
"No. Not yet, Dammit!"
The smile again.
Our arms and knees rubbed almost continuously for the next half hour as we alternated between watching the band and chatting. I told her that she'd missed me singing.
"No way!"
"Yeah! In fact, I have it on videotape." Ironically I did.
"Really?"
"Yeah, I 'll show it to you."
I rewound the tape in my camcorder and asked her to step outside with me so she could hear it over the band.
We went outside and she watched it and commented that it wasn't karaoke as you really had to know the words. I asked her if she sang, she said that she didn't but she did do 'Bust a Move' by Young M.C. due to the fact she talked fast.
"Ever sing 'The Devil Went down to Georgia?" I asked, referring to one of my favorite songs from childhood.
"Get out! No, I've never done it, but that is like my *favorite* song ever!"
We proceed to sing the first verse together, laughing.
She told me she was a commercial real estate agent and for a few minutes she pointed around the street where we were and showed me real estate properties she'd sold.
We sauntered back in to watch the band some more.
When the band took a break she turned to me.
"I don't know how you'll fell about this, but I'm a total pothead and that's what I'm going out to my car to do right now, so I'll be back."
"I'll join you."
"Really?"
"Sure."
We went out to her car and toked on her bat that looked like a cigarette. As the THC took hold, she split a piece of gum with mw and we chatted.
When the gum got to be to strong for me she held out her hand for it and I gave it to her, thinking she'd throw it away. She put it in her mouth.
"Well jeez," I flirted, "if I'd known you were going to do that, I'd have found a better way to give it to you."
After a bit more chatting, I reached over and pushed a lock of her hair behind her ear.
"Man, don't even be doing that sex hair thing."
"Why not."
"Cause I don't want you to," she said, holding back a blush.
"How about this?" I said, running my finger down her jawline.
"Not that either."
Silence. Eye contact. Licked lips.
"We need to go in now," she said abruptly, staving off the inevitable kiss.
We went back in. We talked and stared into each other's eyes.
"Can you do me a favor?" I said close to her ear so she could hear me over the band.
"Can you tell me the appropriate time?"
"The appropriate time for what?"
"To tell you that you are too beautiful for words."
She blushed.
"I'm not going to kiss you, so you might as well forget about that," she said with a coy smile and a dismissive wave.
"Why not?"
"Kissing is something you only do with people you see more than once."
"So what are you doing tomorrow?"
I invited her for dinner on Saturday. She eventually accepted.
"But why?" she said, "it seems rather pointless."
"Becuase there is nothing better in this world than a well-connected kiss. We both know that this whole thing is over as soon as I go home, why not have a perfect microcosmic, unspoiled relationship?"
She shook her head at me.
"God, logic really turns me on."
We talked about the whole subject some more.
I was making some doobiage-inspired comment, when she leaned in and pressed her thin lips against mine.
My heart stopped.
"You kissed me."
"Yeah."
"I wasn't ready for it, can you do it again?"
"No."
And she didn't.
Eventually the evening ended and I walked her out to her car. There was no way I was going to let her get away without a real kiss.
Standing against her car, she looked up at me and pushed her hair behind her ears. I reached up and did the same thing to her. Then I cradled her head in my hands.
"Is this the appropriate time?"
"Sure."
"You really are too beautiful for words."
Blush.
"You know what else?"
"What?"
"Your eyes are brown and I have no idea how large your breasts are."
"They are B's."
She'd missed my point initially, but we got it straight.
"Tell me you're sexy like this all the time," she asked, referring to the way I was holding her face and focusing on her, "and not just tonight."
"Nope. I'm like this. This is real. This is me."
Then I leaned in.
And kissed her.
Her lips pressed against mine and her hand reached up to cradle my head. After and eternity of closed-lip kissing, I licked her bottom lip and her mouth opened slightly to offer the tip of her tongue through her teeth. As my tongue played with the tip of hers, she bit it slightly and oh, so erotically. I moved a hand down to her back and pressed her into me as our kiss deepened and I sucked her lip into my mouth and dragged my teeth across it. She never opened her mouth up all the way. I don't know if she doesn't like to kiss that way or if it was just her way of being guarded, but it didn't matter. What happened was magical.
Eventually, we stopped.
She closed her eyes in mock disappointment. "Dammit, why did you have to be so good at that?"
I kissed her again--like before but not as long.
Then she got in her car.
And we kissed again.
And again, this time her teeth pulling my lip out at the end. Then she closed her door.
We agreed to meet for dinner later, as it was the early hours of Saturday.
I pulled my cell phone out of my pocket to illustrate that I have it on me all the time.
As I put it back in my pocket she watched my hand. Then her head paused. I would swear that she looked at the outline of my erection and laughed.
Not in a bad way.
Tomorrow: The Date
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8/16/2003 4:09 AM
It's 4:08 a.m. Saturday morning.
What an amazing experience I had tonight whilst on vacation.
This is the first time I've ever "picked up" a woman in a bar.
We didn't have sex.
Yet.
Wow.
Film at eleven.
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8/12/2003 11:27 AM
Nobody came over Thursday.
Accountophile cut my hair Friday.
Gave her a song.
No response.
Moving on.
Hopefully.
Left on my trip.
Friday Night: uneventful.
Saturday I arrive at my friend's place and his twenty-one-year-old sister-in-law is staying with him and his wife (her sister). She is in-fucking-credibly gorgeous. She is also aloof and a little vacuuous, but I take every opportunity to surruptitiously stare at her small, hard ass and well-rounded C-cups. I was also, of course, very nice and helpful to her and we were on good speaking terms by the time I left last night.
Alas.
Yesterday my friend and I saw the most amazing young woman at the 7-Eleven, and it really made me think about losing more weight and getting out in the meatmarket space soon.
Drove ten hours last night and now I'm in a new city visiting different people.
Who knows?
(Okay, during the drive I thought about Accountophile and The Virgin and had a maddeningly delayed but stupendous Wellbutrin-enhanced orgasam by my own hand. Thought you'd suspect it even if I didn't mention it.)
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8/07/2003 2:53 PM
Well, LDG stood me up last night on the brief meeting we had scheduled.
Tonight the Homely Someone
may come over.
Tomorrow, Accountophile promised to run her fingers through my hair while she shampooed me. (I rescheduled the hair appointment.) She also told me the guy she was with was "not her type" but that I was "exactly her type."
Go figure.
I'm off on vacation tomorrow and next week. I'll try to blog regularly.
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8/06/2003 1:21 PM
Why don't beautiful people work the graveyard shift?
In the small town where I live, Wal-Mart is far and away the largest retail employer in town. Generally it is staffed with babes. Girls in college or late high school often work there part time. (I know Wal-Marts in other cities don't have babes, but this one really does.) But not at night.
Nor at Kroger. The other babe-heaven. The third trick is chock full of fugly.
Do beautiful people need their "beauty rest?" Do people who care about how they look find the idea of working late at night repulsive? It generally pays more. Maybe the fine-lookers need their nights to go drinking and dancing and picking up sexual partners. The uglies never do that? I'm just not sure I fully understand the situation.
I love to go to Wal-Mart and flirt. It's like my social highlight of the week (when the kids are around). The check-out babes are probably all too young to actually ask out, but I may ask one anyway. What the hell? You only live once.
I've decided to hold off on any Internet contact or otherwise with potential dates until after I get beck. That seems like a moot point now, but I decided it a few weeks ago. I think when I get back, I'll actually pay for Yahoo! Personals and ask someone out. I have about thirty profiles saved. I save one last night from a girl that live in the same small town I do. That's VERY rare as my town is VERY small. She kinda seems like a match, too.
My problem with going to bars to two-fold. Firstly, I don't know what I'm doing (minor problem, I'm an outgoing guy, I'd pick it up quick). Secondly, and most importantly, I don't have a wingman.
# # #
Now here's irony:
I was writing the above on my laptop sitting at Tire Barn getting tires put on my car for the trip. Just when I stopped writing, a really cute girl came in. She had a baby (hers) that kept looking at me. She was chuckling at this, I suspect, to get my attention. She didn't have a wedding ring and after a short discussion we both established we were single and Internet-connected.
She was brunette, still with some facial baby fat that would put her age at about twenty-one (that and she said she was a junior in college).
As I got up to pay, she said--with a huge, toothy smile--it was
really good to talk to me. I came back after paying and asked her name. We shook hands (a little longer than normal) and I gave her one of the cards I carry that promote my chief Web site that also has my email address and phone number on it.
"Here's my Web site and email address. Why don't you drop me a line? I'd
really like to talk to you some more." I said suavely, covering my nervous giddiness.
Her eyes sparked and widened, "Okay!"
She wished me a safe trip as I tried to go OUT through the IN door.
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8/05/2003 2:06 PM
I am so fucking horny.
Let me back up. I've decided once again to quit smoking. I have been taking Wellbutrin for a little over a week. Wellbutrin is exactly the same drug as Zyban for about 1/5th the price. And covered by insurance. Three things happen when you take Wellbutrin/Zyban to help you stop smoking:
- You get cottonmouth and cigarettes taste terrible.
- The drug keeps nicotine from having the desired effect
- The drug reduces your cravings for food and cigarettes.
Bottom line: you find yourself smoking about nine days into the treatment and it tastes bad, you're not craving, and it isn't doing anything for you, so you stop. It really does work. I'm kicking it for good this time.
Here's the thing about Wellbutrin they don't tell you: it affects your sexual response. In many men and women it causes anorgasmic (the inability to orgasm) or (as in my case) delayed orgasm. When I first started dating LDG, I was on Wellbutrin and it took two days of sex before I finally came. There have been times that I've actually given up on masturbation because it wasn't going to happen.
But there's a good side for me. When it does happen--LOOK OUT! I don't think it's simply because the orgasm is a long time coming, I think there's a drug thing going on too. I may have fewer orgasms, but they are typically mind-blowing.
Like head spinning and pinkies tingling good.
In general Wellbutrin has little effect on my libido, but right now (and it could be the Celexa I just restarted) I am hornier than a brass band in John Phillip Sousa's home town.
While the Virgin is busy tonight, LDG might come over tomorrow night. Another woman--who is very attracted to me, but that I usually don't find attractive--is coming over Thursday. As unsexy as she is, I'm even half-tempted to hit that. I'm going fucking nuts. Friday I get my hair cut by Accountophile and Friday night I'll be hitting bars in a college town.
I don't know if I'll get release this week, but next week is vacation and I hope to find an out-of-state date while I'm gone.
Wish me luck.
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8/04/2003 12:29 PM
I took her a gift. Just a token, really. Something to put in her pocket or coin purse and think of me.
I was shaking like a leaf for the whole drive up there. I was really early, so I killed time drinking an orange Triple-Thick milkshake from McDonald's--reflecting about how, when I worked at McDonald's, there was only one taste to which anyone ever compared orange shakes: baby aspirin.
I walked up to the front door of her place of haircutting employment and gandered in the large picture windows. I didn't see a trace of her in there. I didn't want to embarrass myself by being stood up in front of the twenty or so people occupying the shop at that moment, so I called her cell from mine.
"Where are you?"
"I'm at my grandpa's. [Explanation of legitimate family emergency]"
"Oh"
"Didn't the girls tell you?"
"I didn't go in."
A long conversation ensued about her traumatic week, culminating with the current event.
"Well, I brought you something."
"Awwww, you did? What is it?"
"I'm not telling."
"Tease."
"I'll tell you what, I'll leave it in on your station and you can ask me about it later."
She worked Saturday until six-thirty so I expected a call shortly thereafter to inquire about my gift.
No call. No answer. Shit.
Saturday passes. And half of Sunday. Finally, about five o'clock Sunday...
"Hi!"
"Hi."
"So what is it?"
I explain to her what it is, and I get the impression she really does like it. Then she proceeds to tell me she's on her weekly hour-long jaunt to see her Accountant. She tells me that they (after only seven weeks) are already talking about moving closer to each other. They've already let the kids hang out at length (a bad idea so soon, I'd say) and he's such a "great guy."
Fine. Whatever. She peppers her descriptions with "I wonder when something bad will happen" and "but you never know" to keep my hope on the line.
It's time for her to get off the fence, I'd say. And time for me to move on.
I wrote a song. I finished it last night. She inspired it, so I'm going to give it to her this Friday when I go back to get my hair actually cut by her. I don't expect it'll change anything, but it'll allow me to close that door and move on with my vacation next week, unencumbered by matters of the heart (or dick).
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8/01/2003 2:50 PM
Accountophile invited me to drive to her town for a haircut tonight. I don't know what that means. Worse-case scenario (even worse than total rejection) is if she wants sex and to stay with the Accountant.
In fact, in the remote case that we ever do get back together, I'll probably put the sex off for a few dates. So we get to know each other better.
Well, tune in Monday and I'll tell you what happened.
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7/31/2003 2:54 PM
Apparently, while I was drunk at LibGirl's house on July 3rd, I drunkenly expressed a desire to have an encounter with a man before I settled down again.
Why the fuck did I say that?
What would Freud say?
Ganga and Vodka is a bad mix, methinks.
Wow. Now I've got a wild goose chase of introspection going on.
Shit.
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7/29/2003 3:23 PM
I haven't had any sex. I don't see myself having sex in the near future. So this blog may get boring quickly. I definitely still have a crush on the girl who dropped me for the accountant (I need a name for her, hmmmm. How about "Accountophile?") I think she regrets the decision a bit--just some comments she's made to me in chat and on the phone.
We'll see.
Ironically, the sex was better with The Virgin than with Accountophile, but I so much more desire the Accountophile. I think sex with her could be fucking amazing. Despite her slight overweight from bearing children, she is astoundingly muscular.
God.
Also, considering my last post, I've been entertaining myself with ideas for true-to-life pornography films:
Anorgasmia! -- One woman's search for a man who knows something about the clitoris.
Quickies -- If she's not going to come, why bother with foreplay?
LockJaw -- She's got issues, and the men trying to lick her are dropping like flies!
I don't know. Just silliness, I guess. Not meant to offend. Take them with an entire shaker of salt.
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7/28/2003 1:01 PM
After The Virgin left, I watched one of the pornos I rented. It was called
For Women Only I : Girls on Guys. I was left a little baffled as to why these were "for women." The box clearly indicated that it was intended for women, but the differences between this and others I've seen was subtle.
Most remarkably was the music. I was canned, cheesy romance music instead of canned, cheesy disco music.
The guys were also universally hairless and buffed. I guess there are some ugly guys in regular porn.
Pretty much everything else was the same. I guess none of the guys called the girls "bitch" or "slut" (I don't think, the sound was turned pretty low). I guess marketing is king everywhere. Just once I'd like to rent a porno that actually had a plot that resembled the description on the outside of the box. I rented on once that said something like "Dr. Cox invents a lipstick that turns all women into cock-hungry mouth-whores" or some such. I watched it. It had no semblance of any plot, let alone that one. I thought that sounded like a marginally interesting premise. How hard could it have been to add a couple lines to the script like "Try this new lipstick I invented, Shelly" or "Wow, this lipstick is really tingly." But no.
And before you go off on me saying that it doesn't matter that pornography has no plot, let me say this: plot can help with the mood and the fantasy aspects. But, let me also say this: I don't care if the movie doesn't have a plot, just say that on the box.
"WARNING: This is a plotless hodgepodge of images of fucking, sucking, fisting, whipping, candle-wax dripped, nipple-clipped bimbos that never really orgasm."
That would make me happy.
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7/25/2003 2:01 PM
I guess the whole point of any blog, especially one like this is ego-centric. I try to be nothing but factual here, but I know sometimes it comes across as bragging. I don't know how to combat that.
I mean, I have learned techniques that induce orgasm in some women and I've been gifted by fate to meet women for whom my learned techniques work. I also imagine there's an element I add to each encounter of attentiveness. Listening and remembering the subtle cues of my partner. Harder. Softer. Faster. Slower. Higher. Lower. Deeper. Uh... well, there's never a command for "Shallower," I just do that on my own until they ask for "deeper."
Anyway, that being said, allow me to convey my slightly self-absorbed musings of the last few days.
Some background: I was a complete geek in high school. I had no girlfriends. I wore thick glasses. I was bullied. And I mean really bullied. I was the guy that the guys yelled "GEEK!" at as I walked down the hall with a stack of books. They didn't even know me. It was just obvious.
It wasn't till I got contacts and got into college that I ever had anything but a negative self-image. I'm still plagued by it today. I tend to be immediately interested in any woman who shows the slightest sign of even liking me. I know I got married because I was flabbergasted that an attractive woman would love me.
During my thirteen years of marriage, I was continually bringing (thanks to the Internet and pornography) new techniques into the bedroom. (Well not really continually as sex stopped being anything like continuous the moment I got married.) She was always amazed at how I was finding new ways to "enhance her enjoyment," as it were. She was good with feedback, which I guess helped me learn. She was terrible with my feedback. It was so long (like years) between blowjobs that she's completely forget what I told her the last time. (What's the difference between a new wife and a new job? After three years the job still sucks.)
The whole last half of my marriage she'd forsaken foreplay altogether. She assumed if I was hard, I was ready. What started as a sex life of many simultaneous orgasms ended with me having virtually none during intercourse,
Wait, that has nothing to do with my musings.
What I've been musing is that I've had a lot of compliments from the partners mentioned on the blog and others. I'd like to think I'm intelligent enough to tell the difference between fake comments and orgasms and sincere ones. What I've been musing is that I'm not half bad at this sex thing.
Certainly I'll need a larger test sample (ahem) to tell for sure, but the feedback is positive.
What I'd like is more women I can learn from, I think. I'm just addicted to learning in general and it'd be nice to meet a woman who is as thirsty for learning and teaching about sex as me.
Maybe that's just a fantasy.
Everything in here is true.
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7/24/2003 1:51 PM
The Virgin is not a virgin. Nor was she before Tuesday night. My archives will provide details, but some clarification is in order.
I met her while I was married, mere days before she turned twenty. At the time she was a virgin and until just before I met her, thought her boyfriend was too. He'd actually fathered a child behind her back and she turned to me for solace.
While I was married (she never left the boyfriend and eventually married him) we slowly (over the course of a couple of years) worked our way up to oral sex. I taught her everything. She was sheltered and naive before I met her. Under my tutelage (much of it via email, less in person), she's really developed a wild side.
When my wife kicked me out, I went to her place and she attempted to lose her virginity with me mere weeks before her wedding night. She'd been unsuccessful with her fiancee and was also with me due to a psychosomatic condition called vaginisimus, in which the brain prevents entry into the vagina by keeping the muscles clenched too tightly. It is only through gradually increasing penetration diameters and building of trust that it is overcome. I had no opportunity to spend that kind of time with her, so I encouraged her to try specific things with her husband to overcome her condition.
Her wedding night was miserable as was much of the first months of her marriage. About two months after her wedding she came over and we tried again. She was hoping my worldly experience would aid in her overcoming the malady. Technically one could call what we did that day "intercourse" but it was painful, short-lived and unsatisfying for both of us.
We'd attempted to get together a few times since then (over about the last six months) and it never seemed to work out. When the timing was right, her conscience was a barrier.
She told me recently that she's had far less pain and actual satisfactory (though never orgasmic) intercourse with her husband. She wanted to meet up with me to proudly demonstrate her new, ahem, "looser" self and see if I could help her become orgasmic during intercourse.
Tuesday night it finally happened.
She came over to my house at 6:30 as I arrived with a couple of porn DVD's that she requested I rent to "help with the mood."
We started a DVD and it promptly became background noise as I rubbed her shoulders and kissed her neck and caressed her clothed nipples.
One amazing thing about The Virgin is that, when she is turned on, every single nerve ending in her body becomes an erogenous zone. She begins to lose control via the simplest of nipple stimulation.
She quickly stripped to her underwear and I began to devour her incredibly pale body and large round breasts. Her nipples are almost nonexistent--very small and camouflaged by large aureolas. That does not stop them from being the most sensitive nipples I've ever (literally and figuratively) come across.
A glance at the TV gave us an eyeful of a man performing cunnilingus on a tall, thin blonde.
I told her it looked like a good idea and we both undressed completely before I went down on her.
Since the last time I saw her she's started shaving. Completely. As have I. We took a moment to admire each other's pubic regions before I succumbed to the temptation to devour her. Nothing makes me want to like a woman's pussy more than a complete shave job. I hate flossing.
My oral technique only changes from woman to woman in angle and amount of pressure on the clit, as that is never the same between the women I've known. I sucked each side of her mons into my mouth and played my tongue on them. She was already screeching as those nerves, too, were hypersensitive.
She is a light touch (as you would guess) on her clit, so I lightly licked around it and then down to her opening. Moving up I attached the clit again with a light, fluttery tongue.
She was loving it. I'm sure she would have climaxed soon from the clitoral stimulation alone, but I recalled the g-spot experience from Friday night and though "hey, I know she's never had her g-spot stimulated." I know that because she is still naive and her husband is an oaf--and there's not been a lot of penetration down there until the last six weeks anyway.
I turned my hand up and inserted a curved finger into her tight canal. The mere digital breach of the entrance caused her to skyrocket. As I pressed in further--tongue still licking--and found her g-spot, she launched into the loudest, wildest, swearingest orgasm I've ever witnessed from her. She confirmed shortly that it was the best orgasm she'd ever had (and it probably wasn't embellishment, seeing that I've witnessed probably half of the non-mastubatory orgasms she's ever had.) I told her about the g-spot and explained where it was an how it felt to the touch. I explained that they make vibrators especially shaped to stimulate a woman there. She said that she "really" had to get one of those.
I laid back and she straddled me to sit on my rigid member.
She eased the head into her psychosomatically tight orifice and worked her body up and down slightly to help herself relax and accept the length and girth of it.
"This is tough because it's a bit painful, but I just want to drive you all the way in and fuck you."
She performed her acclimation routine for about a minute until I was fully penetrated. She said the pain was gone and began to move up and down on me. Of course, she was already making her wonderful whining screeches upon the first few strokes, but my own reaction surprised me--this was the most incredible vagina I'd ever been in. Very tight and very well-lubricated.
It was textbook.
I was, of course, concentrating on her orgasm, as it was the goal in this entire episode. I tried to stimulate her clit, but the space was too cramped to get a good angle. She arched back to give me more room and went back on her hands, inadvertently assuming the same position that was so successful for LDG a few weeks back.
I licked my thumb and began to lightly apply friction to her clit and she impaled her near-virginal body on my hard cock. Her orgasm took a foothold then and she was clearly approaching a place she hadn't been before. She sat up, verging on her O and stared me in the eyes. When she sat up, the friction was perfect on me.
She loves to see me masturbate. She loves to give me head. All because she loves to see and hear me orgasm. She loves pone sex for the same reason. This is important to my story.
"Oh my God. I don't think I can hold out much longer. I'm going to come!" I whined at her.
"Fuck me!" she ordered and that was all she wrote.
I began to grunt and swear in orgasm and that sent her over the edge. We climaxed together in a cacophony of pornographic sounds, her tight cunt pulsing on me, my semen boiling out of me.
We rested for mere seconds, organs still engaged, before she asked if we could go again. I don't get soft very quickly after orgasm so it was no problem. I began flexing my ass and legs, bouncing her rapidly as if I were a human vibrator. Within moments she was experiencing her third orgasm. She grabbed my hair and then scratched her nails down my face as she came. She had no idea she'd even done that--that is how out of her mind she gets during orgasm. Like LDG (and I suspect, a lot of women) once you get her started, the orgasms come easier and easier.
I wanted to show her a position I told her about, so I laid her on her side, bottom leg extended, top leg crooked. I knelt over her lower leg, pressing my belly against her upper ass cheek and penetrated. This is one of my favorite positions as I can get really deep, yet also control the amount of stimulation her entrance give to the edge of my head.
I playfully gave her the patented thrust pattern (hey! if it works, why change it?) and she was off to the races. She was near the head and the side of the bed, My legs were starting to cramp in try to keep us on the bed. Her head was about to smash into the faux ironwork that is my headboard.
I slowed. "You're going to bump your head." I explained.
"I don't CARE! FUCK ME!" she whined as she covered the top of her head with her hands.
I did. And she did. Her fourth.
Then...
She cleaned up and left.
At 7:15.
45 minutes and she was gone. And I'm left alone thinking "dude! You just fucked another man's wife. That's just wrong." And vowed to not do it again. I need to adopt Bunnie's rule of never fucking the married.
But I'd accept head from her any time. After all, I taught her how to do it and she's VERY good.
I just wish she'd swallow.
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7/23/2003 2:48 PM
The Virgin came over last night. Five years of longing were fulfilled.
But that story is for tomorrow.
Let's finish what we started yesterday.
She pulled me on top of--and into--her.
Her small canal was a hot, wet glove enveloping my head, then shaft.
She moaned as I slowly buried myself in her. Her hips gyrated slightly in an unconscious, automatic way. I held deep inside as I kissed her neck and lightly pinched her hard nipples. Her warm curves were velvet against my hairy chest. Her strong legs encased my thighs and she drew me even deeper into her, encouraging me to thrust.
I pulled back and thrust finally, her back arching and breasts high as the feeling of this intimate act overwhelmed her. She milked my hardness as it rode in and out. Her gasps became harsher and louder as a minor orgasm approached. I thrust my tongue into her mouth as I began to impale harder. Impale faster. Her legs constantly flexing to encourage my motion.
My hands and mouth explored her body as I varied my rhythm, sending her into a few more minor orgasms until the big one came.
Her hands grasping my back, my sides, my ass, as if looking for a handhold on sanity, her moans became screams as my cock thrust hard enough to begin moving her across the bed. Her arms and legs clenched me as she climaxed and then her body fell limp.
A few minutes later, she was on top of me and I was deep inside her young body once again.
orgasm.
orgasm.
ORGASM!
We both laid back then, resting.
Her hands explored my body and massaged my scrotum. She licked my perianal region, then my sack, then my shaft before descending upon my erection with her mouth. She gave me head for a while, but not in earnest. She was heightening my arousal, I think, because she really wanted me to orgasm.
Unfortunately, I had just renewed my shave job, which introduced some stinging and some skin sensitive to her pubic hair. Her vaginal muscles and automatic front-to-back gyration were starting to give me some pain at the base of my penis too.
Rule #1: if there's pain, there won't be an orgasm for me.
She climbed back on top of me and sank down, my now-harder cock filling her cunt.
"Don't move," I said.
"Sorry, the gyration just happens," she giggled.
"Just kegel. Just squeeze. It's kinda tantric."
She did. The pain subsided due to her controlling the gyration. She squeezed me until my gyrations started on their own. My strokes started small, but grew longer as I lifted her ass with my hand to drop he back down on top of me. Her small O's started again. Her cunt, grasped me as ecstasy overtook her each time.
I felt my own juices bubbling soon and let her know. The news started her down the inevitable road. Her gasps once again turned to yells. The sounds she made started me down the same road and I exploded into her.
"That was almost a sacral shockra thing," she said. (Did I mention I was falling for this woman?)
"Yeah, but I wasn't supposed to thrust. I couldn't help myself."
Then we slept.
We made love again in the morning. A repeat of the first her-on-top session of the night before. I didn't come, but it was okay. I (I'm such a woman sometimes) am satisfied if she's satisfied. She told me she'd never slept with a man that had a hairy chest before.
"I just have waaaayy too much testosterone."
I played her player piano for her (with my fingers). She said no one had really ever played it.
We smoked on her back porch and talked.
She told me I was surprising in so many ways. Karaoke. Piano. Sex.
Eventually, she went to work and I went home.
On Sunday, we chatted online and she told me she had a date with the accountant.
On Sunday night I sent her an email accepting her offer to have coffee on Tuesday morning.
On Monday morning she sent me an email telling me that, due to developments in her other relationship, she could not see other people anymore. She'd told this other guy (they'd only been dating a month, and I'd kissed her before he did) that if she saw much more of me she was going to fall in love. I guess she told him to shit or get off the pot. Apparently he decided to shit.
Subsequent conversations reveal that she may have regrets about that decision.
I do know that she's amazing. The kind of girl I could spend my life with, from what little I learned in two dates.
She may call me. I'll say "yes" if she does.
Tomorrow: The Virgin has Sex
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7/22/2003 12:43 PM
Program Note
The Virgin is tentaively meeting me tonight, depending on whether her husband is actually going out.
We had phone sex last week while she was out of town. She's anxious to try what we talked about.
We'll see if it actually happens.
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11:47 AM
I met her after work on Friday. She wanted me to come in so the girls she works with could check me out.
We departed and immediately kissed. An ecstatic replay of Wednesday's kiss.
On the drive back to her place (so she could change before going to dinner) I wanted to pass her and get her to stop so I could kiss her again. I settled for calling her cell and telling her that I was getting shaky from kiss withdrawal.
We arrived at her house and finally kissed again before she ran in and changed. Then we were off to a lakeside restaurant for supper and karaoke.
Dinner was nice (baked salmon and cod) and we reserved a table near the bar for karaoke and went for a walk around the lake. Between kisses we talked in depth about our relationship lives--me about LDG and her about another guy, an accountant, she'd been seeing for a few weeks. She was honest about being attracted to both of us, and I appreciated that.
She also described the nipples that adorned her double-D breasts at some point and explained that they were always hard except right after sex and she was nearly always wet. Later, she explained that it was because she loved sex and was always craving it.
She told me in the morning that she was surprised by my karaoke performance. Somehow she got the impression I was a subdued guy. Silly girl.
Sitting at the booth, we alternated between sitting on the same side--her reclining in my arms or kissing me (she has no qualms about PDAs)--and across, a stocking foot caressing each other's crotch.
I asked her if she had a knife. When she asked why, I said I wanted to see if you could really cut "it" [the sexual tension] with a knife. I knew sex was inevitable, but thought I'd wait and see how long it would take her to call it a night.
I got up to sing my third song after about with her foot and my erection was conspicuously tenting my dockers
straight out. I quickly adjusted and I think she was the only one that saw, but it was enough to send her into hails of laughter.
I soon asked if she wanted to step out for some "fresh air," dying to kiss her deeply in the privacy of the night, and she eagerly agreed. She, however, gathered all of her things and told the karaoke guy to toss out the rest of our songs and told me we weren't coming back.
The drive back to her place was a blur of hormones. Some groping, some kissing, and then we were on her couch.
After five minutes she got up to change into "something more comfortable" and I requested something that made access to her acclaimed nipples a little easier.
She complied.
Wearing loose shorts and a tank top and nothing else, she came back and attacked me on the couch for about two minutes, my mouth finally having a chance to become acquainted with her large, hard nipples, before she suggested that we move someplace more comfortable.
We collapsed on the bed, my rigid member pressing through the soft cloth of my dockers and even softer cloth of her shorts and onto the ultimate softness of her nether regions. Our kisses were frantic and my tongue began to explore her entire upper body while my hardness coaxed her into an orgasm. I soon found out it was only a minor orgasm.
We were both soon naked and my tongue was exploring her small vagina. I teased her lips and her entrance, circling but not touching her clit. I sucked each lip into my mouth and teased it before fucking my tongue into her and tracing my way back up to her Area of Great Sensitivity.
When she arched her back and thrust herself into my face, I relented and addresses the matter at hand. Strict, fluttering, attention soon bought her to another orgasm and quickly to a third.
I was starting to get then sense that there was more in her than the reactions I was getting from her and seriously began to believe (as she later confirmed) that she was a classic multi-orgasmic (several smalls that build to a large).
I tested the theory by probing her wonderfully muscular hole with a finger. The finger got a whole new reaction. I kept my tongue on task and stepped up the activity with my finger. I fucked her with my finger for a bit, but she seemed to be plateauing. I pressed hard with my flat tongue as I curled my finger into her g-spot and the plateau was no more.
This was the real deal, her small, writhing form was out of control and her moans and gasps were twice as intense as the previous times and she soon reached her first of several major orgasms that evening.
When the orgasm subsided, she kissed me, obviously relishing her taste on my tongue.
"You're really good at that." she said and pulled me on top of--and into--her.
This is taking longer than I'd imagined. But were all having fun, right? To be continued...
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7/21/2003 1:40 PM
Weekend in review soon. I promise. It was a hell of a weekend, it'll be worth the wait.
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7/18/2003 5:10 PM
We met online. I asked her to forego the "email until we know each other" phase (a big time-waster, sometimes) and to have coffee with me. It turned out to be lunch on Wednesday.
I didn't have high hopes. Her picture was mediocre and she seemed a bit too hyper on the phone.
Real life was quite different. Large, brown, intelligent eyes accompany a large, white smile. We have a delightfully intelligent conversation as we eat our taco salads
sans guacamole, and light our cigarettes with purple lighters. The color we both obsessively seek out when buying cheap lighters.
Mexican Lunch. Strip mall stroll. Nearly autonomic hand-holding.
We wander through a Christian bookstore.
"This one church I go to," says she, "is a missionary church. Well, they are getting away from missionary and are getting more into..."
She paused to find the word.
"Doggie?" I quip.
We stand in the bookstore, surrounded by well-dressed fundamentalists, laughing loudly till tears roll from our eyes.
We walk around the back of the strip mall to a shady area and stop, relieved to be out of the burning sun. I lean against the brick back wall of a temporary agency and take her other hand.
The kiss is completely without forethought. It is not even initiated, but blessedly mutual.
Her lips, mottled with pre-lunch lipstick, meet mine in a soft caress. The softness and fever of her lips envelops me. Her hands clasp my face, my back, my chest. Her ample breasts press into me through a soft, thick, armless sweater.
Eventually my tongue finds hers and they dance lightly together.
I hold her face in my hands, longing to somehow get closer than a kiss.
Our spirits mingle for close to fifteen minutes, my tongue occasionally exploring her jawline and jugular vein.
"I know other cool places on your body to kiss," I respond to her enjoyment of my exploration.
"Oh you do?" Her magnificent brown eyes dance as she taunts me.
"Well," I stammer, "at least I'd like to get to know those places."
She has to leave for an appointment that she will now be late for.
We make plans to Karaoke tonight.
It will be a good night.
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7/07/2003 2:52 AM
"I was really into bestiality, sadomasochism, and necrophilia, but then I realized I was just beating a dead horse."
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7/03/2003 9:00 AM
Well, that chat last night with LDG had an unexpected consequence. We ended up discovering that we were both childless. I found out later that it had made her horny. (Though she insisted it was my Superman boxers with the "pocket" fly.)
I drove out to meet her (1.5 hours).
She asked me not to tell anyone about the sex we had within minutes of walking in the door.
It's a very cool story and one I could provide great detail for (I was thinking about blogging it when it happened), but I assured her I wouldn't. And while she'll never find this (or if she does, it'd be a Bad Thing anyway), I'll respect her request.
Damn.
It was hot. And silently guided. And novel.
There will be other events to write about. I'm meeting her at the campground Friday night. We'll see.
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7/02/2003 5:42 PM
[LDG is going camping, I'm joining her later]
scur: You could have some solace and I could surprise you in the dark of night.
scur: Not even talk. I'll just slip into bed and play spoons.
LDG: lol
scur: Help you sleep.
scur: Keep you safe.
LDG: I would have to talk, you know me
scur: Okay, but no arguing about positions.
LDG: lol. we don't argue do we?
scur: "I'M NOT DOING DOGGIE STYLE"
LDG: lol
LDG: that wasn't an argument, a statement
LDG: sometimes I am just in the mood for the good ole' fashion way
LDG: makes me feel more closer
scur: Sometimes you have to be in the mood for me to exercise my encyclopedic knowledge and surprise you with things you've never done.
LDG: and I love the kissing, turns me on more
LDG: true, and I think I have
scur: silently.
LDG: OMG, that behind me position the other night
scur: See?
LDG: but you didn't guide me, you told me
scur: You liked the Kama Sutra stuff later too! You slapped me!
scur: Becuase you were all like "waht are you doing?"
LDG: I slapped you?????? I don't remember doing that........sorry
scur: When you were laying back for your third orgasm.
scur: with the pillow under you.
scur: I'll work on the guide bit.
LDG: I am so sorry if I did
scur: No! It was a playful slap becuse it was intense for you.
LDG: now I feel bad
scur: A compliment for me.
LDG: oh
scur: It didn't hurt!!!
LDG: well that is different then
scur: YES!
LDG: you had me
scur: I will work on silent guidance if you work on silent trust.
LDG: ok
LDG: deal
scur: Cool.
LDG: OMG, we are going to have great sex
scur: In thinking about it, we do talk WAY too much durning sex. It breaks the mood somewhat.
LDG: I like a man in charge but not bossy..........a guider you might say
scur: Yeah.
scur: I learn something new every day.
LDG: and what did you learn new today?
LDG: lol
scur: To be a silent guider.
LDG: lol
LDG: you know there will be other campers
scur: We'll have to be REALLY silent. And slow.
LDG: so that night we really can work on the silent part
scur: Very slow.
scur: Very tantric.
LDG: sounds cool
scur: It is. I'll show you. Very restful. Very intense.
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2:26 PM
From: The Virgin
Sent: Friday, June 27, 2003 3:47 PM
To: Scur
My husband is supposed to be going out of town Saturday night. I'll be all alone.
From: Scur
Sent: Friday, June 27, 2003 4:24 PM
To: The Virgin
Ahhh!!!! Really? I'll be child-less!!!
From: The Virgin
Sent: Monday, June 30, 2003 8:19 AM
To: Scur
My husband ended up not going and we had to help his mom move until late. I'm sorry! :(
From: Scur
Sent: Monday, June 30, 2003 9:38 AM
To: The Virgin
That's okay. I figured something came up. LDG showed up unexpectedly anyway, so it probably wouldn't have worked out.
From: The Virgin
Sent: Monday, June 30, 2003 9:39 AM
To: Scur
What time did she show up? I was very bummed! :-(
From: Scur
Sent: Monday, June 30, 2003 9:48 AM
To: The Virgin
Actually 9:30 or 10:00. She called, but I couldn't say no. She wanted to "talk" and I figured she was breaking up (it was expected). Turns out we agreed to date other people (she'd been asked out) and date each other when we wanted to.
I really have something to Yahoo! you. Is that acct still live and not full?
From: The Virgin
Sent: Monday, June 30, 2003 9:45 AM
To: Scur
Yes, it is active and empty. Let me know when you have sent it and I will check it.
From: Scur (Yahoo! Acct)
Sent: Monday, June 30, 2003 2:57 PM
To: The Virgin (Yahoo! Acct)
I'm going to be perfectly honest.
Your email about your husband going out of town made me instantly hard. I couldn't stop thinking about possibly meeting you. I was SO incredibly horny at work Friday afternoon. (Just like now, just thinking about Friday.)
When I got in my car to drive home, I couldn't even listen to the radio 'cause I was so distracted by the possibilities. I was so turned on I thought my cock was going to tear through my pants on it's own.
I decided to take back roads home and had unfastened my pants within five minutes of leaving work. I thought about the times we've been together while I stroked my hard shaft. I thought about you lying back on my hide-a-way bed in the apartment, waiting for me to lay on top of you--to press myself into you. I thought about how you said you'd been shaving.
I thought about that night at your place when my Ex had asked me for a divorce--our hot mingling, your tight cunt. Your desire for me.
It didn't take much thought. It didn't take much touching and I was coming. My juices spilling onto a waiting towel (just happend to have one). Me wishing it was spilling into your soft pale body--wishing your nipple was in my mouth as our bodies slammed together in ecstasy.
I can't believe, after all this time, after all that's happened, how badly I want you--how badly my body craves yours.
I want you.
From: Scur
Sent: Monday, June 30, 2003 2:57 PM
To: The Virgin
Are you around? :(
From: The Virgin
Sent: Monday, June 30, 2003 2:54 PM
To: Scur
I am around, I have been in meetings and I am about to go to another one right now. I'll be able to read your Y! mail right after this meeting and then I'll write you back, ok? Sorry for the delay! :(
From: Scur
Sent: Monday, June 30, 2003 3:00 PM
To: The Virgin
It's okay. :)
From: The Virgin (Yahoo! Acct)
Sent: Monday, June 30, 2003 2:54 PM
To: Scur (Yahoo! Acct)
wow! this got me all hot and bothered! i can't write much right now for the fear that someone might come up behind me as i write this, but i am thinking after reading that that we really need to get together soon!!! don't you think? i wish we could have gotten together on Saturday...the possibilities of what might have happened are endless! what are we going to do! it is crazy how much we still want each other after all this time...what are we going to do???
From: The Virgin
Sent: Monday, June 30, 2003 4:35 PM
To: Scur
My husband usually goes to play video games every Tuesday with his friends in [another town] though! Tomorrow night he isn't, but maybe next Tuesday night?
From: Scur
Sent: Monday, June 30, 2003 4:41 PM
To: The Virgin
OoooOOOoooo!!!!! There's a thought! Let me know, I'll try to open it up.
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6/30/2003 2:56 PM
Well, she had a date last night (Sunday) and I know she has another in less than two weeks. I don't feel so bad now. I knew it'd be a Good Thing if she already had though about dating. Turns out some guy had already asked her out and she'd put him on hold till we talked. Very considerate of her.
It's nice to be free to date, yet not have a messy break up.
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2:50 AM
In the words of Gomer Pyle, "Sur-PRISE, Sur-PRISE"
She came over. We talked. We both confided that we really liked each other, but we wanted to date around too. Basically we implemented a "don't ask, don't tell" policy and put each other on our date rotation. Due to our conflicting schedules, dates will likely be few and far between, but it made us both feel better. If we grow apart, we grow apart. C'est la vie.
Then we went out to the truck stop for deep-fried bacon and coffee and had a nice long talk.
Then we came home.
Then she got in my bed.
She insists that her nipples are seldom sensitive. (Much as she insisted that she couldn't orgasm during sex if she hadn't been "jump-started" with a orgasm by some other means. But I proved her wrong.) I worked hard with my tongue to find the right pressure and location till she sighed "ooo, I got some sensation there" and eventually began responding as any other woman would when her nipples are stimulated.
It didn't really dawn on me until last night that she argues with me about positions. I sometimes like a woman to just trust me and let me command her body. Through a little insistence (details to follow) I finally got her to trust me. It went something like this:
"I think I need you on your knees." I had in mind something that I internally refer to as the "Purple Rain Foreplay Position"
"I am NOT doing it doggie style." (Not a general objection, she just wasn't in the mood for that.)
"No! I'm not doing that! Will you just trust me? There, now turn your back to me.
With historical guidance from Prince in his seminal theatrical release, I knelt upright behind her. My tongue insisted at her neck, below the ear and at the "J-spot," exactly in the center of the bottom of her hairline in back. My left hand continued with her newly sensitized nipples, and my right slid into her waistband to caress her weeping folds and use a practiced touch with her clit.
She was writhing within seconds, and coming within a minute, her gasps uncontrollable, and knees buckling with her orgasm.
Upon recovery, she immediately started rubbing my bare package. She's a good listener and has really learned to do that simple task quite well. She sat facing me, rubbing me, and I crossed my legs, Indian-style.
"What are you doing?" she challenged me,
"Trust me!" I ordered, "sit on my lap and cross your legs behind me!"
This was a position I probably hadn't done since I was engaged to my wife fourteen years ago, but one I studied well as a high-school virgin. This is the position that most versions of the Kama Sutra use as cover or introduction, but after an hour of online searching, I can't for the life of me remember it's name. Leave a comment if you know.
She impaled herself on me for a short, yet intimate trip to her next orgasm. After a careful placement of a pillow under her ass, she laid back as I straightened my legs. I ministered to her clit as she gyrated on my shaft. This orgasm was the most intense I've seen out of her. She almost seemed as if she were in pain. She wailed and even slapped me. But there was no pain, only joy for her.
After a very quick breath I adopted a modified missionary with her long legs crossed at the ankles over her head. This position, of course, grants the deepest plunge, but more importantly the longest stroke. I altered my patented combination of short and long strokes until we found mutual orgasm.
Now I'm convinced that all of this "afterplay" talk of the 80's and 90' (how a woman needs intimate contact after the act) is complete bullshit if the woman is orgasmic. In my limited experience if the sex created multiple orgasms for a woman--especially if it ends in mutual orgasm--the only option for both parties is a drink of water and/or a cigarette, and straight to sleep. I think "afterplay" is a conspiracy created by anorgasmic women or women with lousy lovers.
Your mileage may vary.
I know we went right to sleep.
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6/28/2003 8:28 PM
I think Long-Distance Girlfriend (LDG) is on her way over in about ninety minutes to break up with me. I'll let you know.
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6/27/2003 2:56 PM
I can't figure out if LDG and I are breaking up or not. It doesn't look good. I kinda want it just to be over, but I don't want to be an asshole about it.
Mayhap over the Fourth of July.
Anyway, I have plans in the near future (a festival bartending gig and a road trip) when I'd like to be free to do whatever I want with whomever I want. Plus, the point of this blog was not to write about a single lover, but rather my pursuit of happiness in general.
Yeah, probably soon.
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6/24/2003 12:31 PM
LDG and I almost broke up twice over the last week. I really have a trust issue with her. It's scary because I trust most people. It all stemmed from The Big Lie.
The Big Lie was (as far as I know) the only one she's told me. But it was a big one. One day, after many divorce hearings she told me she was finally divorced. A month later, she confessed that she really wasn't divorced yet, but she didn't want me to worry about it anymore. The truth would have hurt a lot less. Now I find myself jealous and suspicious. Ironically, one reason I stick around is that now she gives really really good head. And swallows. I'm such a fucking guy.
Anyway, that isn't the only reason. But despite whatever feelings I have for her, I'll never marry her and she knows it. She's not The One.
Let me tell you about The One.
She is musical.
She is well-read.
She is intelligent.
She understands satire.
She makes an effort to make sex better.
She is easy-going and doesn't get upset about much.
She can debate without emotion
She knows the difference between an argument and a debate.
She shares my parenting paradigm and loves my girls.
She likes movies and trivia.
She is not my height.
She is turned on by lively debate.
She lives within her means.
She is not pushy.
She is not obese.
I just started reading Canterbury Tales (with modern spelling, I'm not an elitist) and I'd really like a woman who not only has heard of Chaucer but can pronounce his name correctly and tell me that he wrote the Canterbury Tales without prompting.
Is that too much to ask?
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6/16/2003 11:30 PM
I was having the age-old discussion with LDG the other night. (I went to her place last weekend, more later.) We were discussing penis size, and (of course), whether it matters. I was telling her that the new Internet fad for enlarging one's penis was to do exercises involving weights. (Really!)
"But that wouldn't add anything to the length!" she objected.
I was ready for this. I've read the columns. "No, but it adds to girth. Length doesn't matter--women only have nerve endings in the first 3/4" of their vaginas. What could length matter?"
Her response was immediate and one I've never heard addressed in all the dicussions I've ever read.
"Positions."
[Predicatable guy note: This, of course, isn't an issue with me. I'm of average size, but give her more orgasms in a weekend than she had in her entire ten-year marriage. The "motion of the ocean" really does matter quite a bit. That and a cursory understanding of the mechanics of the clitoris.]
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6/11/2003 11:38 PM
"If I don't let myself be happy now then when? If not now when?"
-- Jimmy Eat World
I need to simplify. Simplify and lose weight. Simplify and lose weight and get better shoes.
They say women look at shoes.
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9:50 PM
LDG doesn't seem as adamant about seeing me. That's a good thing. I'm starting to feel silly about repeating "I love you" just because she says it and I don't want to piss her off. That's crazy. (I'm Brian Fellows.) I need to ease that off. How the hell am I supposed to experience single male slutdom if I'm gonna acquire a girlfriend every time I get laid? I'll have to watch that. We agree there's no future. What's the point?
Moving on, I'm convinced that women (least of all strippers) really know what turns guys on physically. I think most of them do it accidentally while in the course of trying to do something else to turn us on. More than once, I've had a stripper give me wood by crawling on her hands and knees with a bedroom look, but I'm convinced it was just locomotion for them to come over and get my dollar. Let me tell you of the two most erotic experiences I've ever had in a strip club were.
Experience 1: PartyGuy and I went to a strip club in a Small Town in Another State. I'd never been there, but he had. After watching the skanky dancers dance in their stage surrounded by six folding tables and eighteen folding chairs, we returned to a side table. Our waitress was a little cutie and very chatty with us. We offered her tips, though she wasn't a dancer. We asked where we could put a dollar. In he sock. Another dollar? In her other sock. A fiver? In her waist band. PartyGuy kept offering her higher denominations until her shirt was off and she had a zip-in-front jog bra on. For $20 she unzipped it and flashed us briefly.
PartyGuy and I gaped at each other and said in a unison that only comes from 20 years of partying together, "Holy Mary Mother of God!" She had perfect little perky A-cups with nipples that looked like pencil erasers. She blushed and opened her bra back up. We paid her compliments, then she zipped up and took her shirt, and hid behind the bouncer until we left. Holy shit, Batman.
Experience 2: Last weekend I went with PartyGuy to a strip club we hadn't been to together in nine years. A girl dancing at the end had long black hair, and a petite body. She was in her early twenties. She also was missing a tooth and had self-induced tattoos on her upper legs. But she had an incredibly tight body. No fat, no sag. It was incredible.
Sidebar: Why is it strippers put your face between their tits and whack you with their melons? Does
any guy find that erotic?
She told me at the end of her last dance that she'd do a private table dance for ten bucks if I wanted. I did. I told her to come over to our table when she got off-stage. She didn't. She went and put her street clothes. She started to walk towards the door and passed by my table. I pantomimed a pout and she came over and apologized. She pushed me knees together and straddled them. We talked for a minute about how she'd just gotten out of a five year abusive relationship and how I'd just got divorced. We also talked about what an incredible bod she had and how she didn't think so but thank you.
"I can give you a dollar dance instead," she said. I agreed. She came closer and pulled up her old T-shirt; her pasties were still over her nipples. She pressed my face betwixt them. Ehhh. It was kinda neat to see her lift up her regular street-wear though. Then she turned around and rubbed her tightly-jeansed ass against my hard tent. Then she unbuttoned her jeans (I don't think she really unzipped them much) and slid them down to reveal her gorgeous little ass. To my surprise she didn't have on the stripper bikini-bottoms--she had regular cotton-blend thong underwear. And then she rubbed against me again. Man, oh, man. I would have paid $10 for that sight alone. She stepped away and pulled up her pants. Then she took my dollar and kissed me on the cheek.
Ladies, take a lesson. I'm not sure what that lesson is. In fact if you can let me know in comments what my point was, I'd really appreciate it.
(All comments welcome. The more you comment, the more I'm inspired to write.)
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6/06/2003 1:34 PM
Bunnie commented
If it had been me you said that to I would have blown you with a vengeance just to prove that although there may be others, I am the best.
You have
no idea how ironic that is. Background first.
Less than six months into my thirteen-year marriage, I met LibGirl. She was tall, thin, four years my junior and inquisitive. Her first question of me was "are you breast sensitive?" She had an on-and-off fiancee and non-intercourse affairs with a couple of my college friends. I was married. And I was her challenge. Her idea of fidelity is only having sex with one person at a time. Even now, as long as she's having sex with her well-publicized boyfriend, she refuses sex with her husband. She's a conessiur of radically liberal principles, but she sticks to them. You have to respect that, even if you don't agree with the principles. But I digress.
After a year of hanging out and building up to it, she slept over. We didn't have, and to this day haven't had intercourse. But it was a very fun time. Let's just say that I was impressed that she swallowed. She was only the third woman in my life to give me a blowjob. My first girlfriend and my ex-wife were the only other two.
Shortly thereafter (that week, I think), we were alone one night in a basement classroom at school. We made out and she gave me the most incredibly perfect blowjob. There was danger, there was taboo, there was teasing, there was perfect friction. The lighting was even good--a single florescent tube filtering a cone of light around my chair and my kneeling cohort.
She blew me probably a dozen times before we parted ways, but nothing came close to the perfection of the second one. I literally fanaticized about that one incident for years. Every single time I saw her face--her long neck stretched, her long dark hair cascading, her hand on my cock--looking up to mine and asking in smoldering seriousness: "What do you want?" There's something about both parties knowing exactly what's going on, but one asking the other what they have in mind, that just makes it a perfect tease.
Many years of marriage passed. Near the end of my marriage (though I didn't know it at the time) I began to seriously lament that I'd never be deep-throated. I know that's silly, but I saw myself an old man and regretting that fact. LibGirl said she had with other men, but never with me.
Then something happened. FreeSpirit, a stunning, large-breasted, dark, brunette goddess (one of those women that all men drool over), six years my senior and libertine in her own right, fell in love with me. At first sight. I was the first man, she claims, to ever make her all shy and schoolgirly. We hung out and chatted a lot on email. She was timid about ever getting together but eventually we did. She insisted that she
never went anywhere near married men, but couldn't stay away from me. (A fact that baffles me to this day.)
When we did meet, we kissed. And it was amazing. I wanted to run down the street screaming "THE MOST INCREDIBLE WOMAN MADE OUT WITH ME TODAY!", but I think my wife would have reacted badly. She refused to see me for a while, but we eventually hooked back up. About four months before my wife asked me for a divorce (not related) we met for coffee and in my car, she blew me. Her technique was amazing. But if you're a faithful reader, you know that varying your technique while giving me head is a Bad Idea. I was close, but never climaxed. But it was still a perfectly astounding blowjob. the most astounding part was the deep-throat. I could die a happy man.
(Side note: the last time we were sexual, I masturbated in her presence, She licked me clean. It was the most bizarre thing, I swear!)
Now, I tell LibGirl EVERYTHING. I've even given her this URL. Nothing here would be a surprise to her. Needless to say, I called her to rejoice in my first deep-throat.
Wouldn't you know it, not a long time later (when we were both furious with our spouses and they were both out of town) she invited me over for a long night of television, pot, alcohol and... spanking and nursing and deep-throating! She told me later that she
had to prove that she was just as good.
Unfortunately, her technique had become more complex and ever-changing over the years and I, once again, was anorgasmic. But still, wow. You know?
So Friday night they both were over. Last Wednesday they were both over and LibGirl lightly kissed me in front of FreeSpirit, just to be naughty. Thursday, FreeSpirit was over and made out with me off and on all day. Friday, LDG is kissing me in front of both of them. If we'd just had The Virgin and my ex there, I could have had everybody who'd given me head in the last year around the table. Odd that.
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6/04/2003 6:21 PM
What follows is a true story that contains unintroduced characters. I will flesh these new characters out soon. But this story needs to be told.
Last Friday, I sat at my dining table. Around the table sat LDG, FreeSpirit (and her fiancee) and LibGirl (and her spouse). I was working on some laptops as we all conversed. Suddenly a realization occurred to me. I looked up, grinned goofily at the people sitting there to determine if my thought was an accurate one, and upon discovering that all of the women sitting at the table had--in fact--given me head in the last year, went back to work.
Made the unfortunate blunder of mentioning this to LDG who promptly decided that mediocre conventional sex was all I was getting from her that night. No blowjob last weekend.
Alas. Still, it
was something you don't experience every day.
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5/09/2003 1:09 PM
Another old email from The Virgin:
Hey! Did you like how I unzipped my sweater this morning? Bet you weren't expecting me to do that, were you? :)
Anyway, what would you have done if, as you stood there with the door open trying to leave before your kids went out to catch the bus, I pulled you back into the door and locked it behind you. I then unzipped my sweater all the way and placed your hands on my bulging breasts as they cried to be released from the bra that was restraining them. You undid the bra and slid off my top. You caressed my breasts ever so slowly and seductively as you brought your lips to each nipple and licked it furiously one by one. When you thought each had had enough attention, you slowly moved your way up my neck, stopping behind my ear to breathe in the scent of my hair and whisper something into my ear...what did you say? I can barely hear you and your whisper has given my whole body chills. Did you say what I thought you said? Did you say "let's go into the bedroom"? I pull away and look you in the eyes. Before you know it my hand is on your throbbing manhood and I am caressing it in a way that makes you want to go crazy on me. I unzip your pants slowly unleash the beast! :) Then I turn around and head toward my bedroom, you follow like a little lost puppy dog, panting as you go. As we enter my room, I stop you at the door way and do a little strip show for you in the middle of the room. I begin by grasping my breasts and caressing them in front of you. I licked my fingers and rubbed them over my nipples and made myself tingle as you stood aside and watched. Then I worked off my pants and slid my hand down my panties and rubbed my female area for just a minute before I pulled off my panties. Once I had done this I sat on the bed up against the head part with my legs spread, knees up and feet on the bed. Still you look on...I lick my fingers and begin to masturbate in front of you. Mmmmmmmmm it feels so good. I slowly move my moist finger in and out and in and out beginning to speed up as I go. Pretty soon, I begin to moan out loud because it feels so good. I have found my special spot and I begin to move my finger back and forth on it vigorously until I have practically forgotten that you're even standing there. Little do I know, you have also begun to make yourself happy while watching me. I have closed my eyes in extreme pleasure, and the next thing I know your tongue has replaced my finger and....
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5/07/2003 1:07 PM
Blowjob School
As I've mentioned, initially the sex with LDG was mediocre. This is changing drastically now. A couple of weekends ago, I got really frustrated when it seemed that no amount of sex was going to make either of us cum. I got up and got coffee and a cigarette. She felt betrayed that I'd left the bed. I didn't leave out of spite: she needed to sleep, I needed to smoke. I knew she was upset so I bought flowers and a card that said "we can get though anything if we talk it out."
Well that night, we talked about it before we went to sleep. I told her that just because I was hard didn't mean I was turned on. I told her that I needed more foreplay. (Why do I always get stuck with all the foreplay and the woman thinks she doesn't need to do anything just 'cause I'm already hard?) I told her I didn't like oral sex in uncomfortable positions and randomly during foreplay. And I didn't like teeth either. I like the buildup to a blowjob. I like to know hours or days in advance if it's going to happen. I like the effort to be concentrated and deliberate and teasing and slow.
The next morning, we sat on the couch. I kneeled on the floor and ripped off her pants. I set to work trying to give her the best licking she'd ever had. (Or, at least, the best I'd given her to date.) I pulled the outer labia into my mouth and licked them. Licked the area all around her opening and her perianal bridge. I fucked my tongue into her before I finally started toward her clit. I like to take my time in doing this as it builds anticipation. I like to hear a big gasp once I finally do hit her sweet spot. With LDG, I know that she likes her clit pressed against the edge of her pubic bone. She's not a light touch, sexually speaking. (Even her nipples aren't that sensitive--she has to be in exactly the right mood for breast attention to do anything for her.) Finally, I press a finger into her, contacting her G-spot. She is the first woman I've ever successfully found that on. I don't believe my Ex ever had one. Finally she whines and moans in climax, grabbing my head and holding to her crotch, then away as she gets too sensitive to my tongue.
After a while, I'm sitting on the couch and she asks me if I "want oral." "No," I said, "I want you to suck my cock." (She's so conservative sometimes.) She proceeded. She started with me fully clothed and kissed me, her tongue probing my mouth and her hand rubbing my hard shaft through my pants.
She puts a hand on my shirt, brushing my nipple. Then she unbuttons a few buttons and slides a hand in to touch them, all the while caressing the bulge in my pants. She kisses down my neck and finishes unbuttoning the shirt and with a bit of coaching from me, finds the most incredible method of orally stimulating my nipples.
She's doing very well without my help in fact. But I know she'll need some help in the actual act.
She unfastens my pants and grips my penis. Wrong.
"Ow," I say.
She lets go. "You have to tell me what you want."
"Don't squeeze. Barely wrap your hand around so the skin moves."
She complies. She also knows I like my testicles attended to. She breathes and licks them as she strokes me. She sometimes lick a path up to the head of my shaft, but never puts it into her mouth.
I have to keep coaching her to keep the rhythm unbroken and steady. And to not squeeze.
She's doing really well. Much better than the first half dozen times she went down on me. (She always goes down on me after I gown down on her. It's like a reflexive reciprocation. I can't complain, but sometimes it's not opportune.)
She may even be able to make me cum with her hand (a very rare occasion for me) right about now, but thankfully she plunges her head over the top of my cock.
Her mouth and hand are moving in opposite directions. This will never do.
"Keep your hand and mouth moving together." She does.
I tell her I want to feel her remarkably long tongue. She complies. Her rhythm is even and excellent now. The sensation inside her mouth is exactly the right pressure and there's been nary a tooth today.
"I don't know what you're doing, but don't stop!"
She proceeds exactly as she was. Not faster, not harder. The same. Good girl.
"Shit! Fuck! I'm going to cum!" I scream as my orgasm builds to it's peak. She's very conservative, so I'm guessing she's not a swallower.
She surprised me.
My cum spurted into her mouth and she didn't miss a beat. She swallowed every drop and kept going till I was a quivering mass and had to force her off.
Wow. Education is good.
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4/30/2003 1:46 PM
The Virgin (Part II)
I kept seeing her at school. We'd talked and emailed a lot about advanced sexual topics, but in real life did very little.
She met me for my birthday once. (This was before I ever went south of the elastic with my hands.) We met at a park halfway between my work and her school. We made out and I got the impression it was time to leave. I started to drive her car back over to mine and she insisted on showing me her new bra. It wasn't the first or the last time she made that offer. It has always meant the same thing: "I want you to attack my breasts." She has large, firm, milky-white breasts with large, pale areolas. As I mentioned, her nipples, though small, provided nearly as much stimulation as her clit. I slipped my hand under her sweatshirt (as we're driving back to my car) and she instantly began to moan when I contacted her nipples. By the time we got back to my car she was the definition of hot and bothered. I had to get back to work though. We both got into my car for some reason and started kissing again. My hand caressed her breasts and eventually her fly. I got her jeans unsnapped and ran my hand down her flat, pale belly and into the top of her panties. She stopped me. My fingers were moving the skin less than an inch from her clit, but she couldn't allow me to go any farther. I thought for sure she would cum, but, in the end, she was still too reserved to let it all out.
As a birthday present though, after she put herself together, she began rubbing me through my pants. Then she freed me. Then she stroked me (I was near the edge anyway from what I'd done to her). Then she gave me head. And it was magical. I had written her many times on the techniques of giving head, and she ate it up like the good student she was. She'd tried it once on her boyfriend, but this was only the second time she'd ever done it.
She didn't bring me to orgasm with her mouth, but she kept her hand in place and doubled the rate the second her mouth cleared my head. I came hard and I came quickly. She loved to watch me cum. I don't know why. To this day, she loves to watch me masturbate.
Speaking of masturbation, she hadn't. Ever. Only after the above occasion did she. A short time later, we met at night at the school and went to a remote parking lot. We made out. Then we dry humped. She insisted that she wanted to have an orgasm in my presence. She laid on top of me and ground her clothed virginity against my jeans-covered erection until she came.
Holy shit.
Screaming and screeching and totally out of control. (Even as much as hurting me with her random grabbing hands.) She enters a whole different universe during orgasm.
Once she'd recovered, she sat back in her car seat. She knew that I was more than horny and asked me if I'd masturbate. As I unzipped my fly and took out my cock, pre-cum oozing from it, she lifted her sweatshirt and began touching her nipples. As I stroked, she pushed her other hand down into her sweatpants.
"Have you ever touched yourself like that before?" I asked, truly surprised.
"Just once," she said, "at home, and it never felt like this."
I watched her intently as I stroked myself. Just knowing that I was watching a virgin masturbate for the first time in earnest made my work very short. Even though she didn't climax a second time and I couldn't really see what either hand was doing, it remains one of the most erotic moments of my life.
She's masturbated for me quite a few times since then. Often, when she's out of town on business and alone, she'll call me from her hotel, dying for me to tell her a story while she rows the man in the boat. I can't complain about that.
Bringing things up to date: She did come over on the seventeenth as I told you she would. She was overcome with a fit of "being conflicted" now that she's married she seems to take vows more seriously than when I was married and she wasn't. She wouldn't kiss me. But she wanted me. She told me so. She wanted to fuck. But in the end, she kneeled over me on the couch and dry humped me like in her school days. Soon she screamed her patented "YES!" into my ear as she came.
I told her that not kissing me was rather moot now, so she did. She knew she'd set me up and turned cold on me. She felt my hardness. She felt bad, but insisted that anything major was out of the question.
"Would you like to cum on my boobs?" she asked coyly.
How could I say no? She reclined on the couch and pulled up her shirt and bra. I kneeled over her waist and stroked my hard member. She reached under and cupped and played with my testicles, like she's done during oral sex since day one (I'll tell some other stories later, maybe), and sent me over the edge. The testicle thing gets me every time. I came in buckets all over her exposed breasts. She enjoyed it. She really enjoys watching me do that. Odd.
Then she went home. Six hours later, LDG came over from two hours away, and we had mediocre sex. But it got better...blowjob school story soon.
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4/29/2003 5:42 PM
A quick email excerpt:
I would like to kiss your neck. And your lips, teasing your tongue with mine. And the back of your hairline. I'd like to press my tongue behind your ear and nibble on your earlobe.
I'd like to pull over the neck of your blouse also nibble the top of your left shoulder, then lick a line coming around your collarbone back up to your jawline before I kiss you again.
I want to draw your leg up while our tongues wrestle. I'd cradle your thigh so it presses firmly against the hard shaft trapped in my jeans.
I'd need to make your right shoulder even though. With the lick, kiss and nibble.
You could lay back on the couch and let me slid my hand up and caress your breast just to feel the curve and the hard nipple that make my member pound so hard. And to press that hardness between your legs.
And to thrust my hips to press my flesh into my denim into your denim and against your swelling clitoris.
To thrust my tongue back in your mouth and cup your ass pressing your long body against me. It's okay if you want to wrap your legs around me. I know you want me harder against you.
I love the way you start to moan a little before we even get undressed. God, I love your hand against my chest lightly against my nipple. It makes me want to be inside of you.
But I can't be inside of you. Not yet. Not until I taste you. Not until I suck your flesh into my mouth and saw my tongue across your clit. Not until I slide my fingers inside of you to massage your G-spot while my tongue lashes crazily about you.
Not until I hear your moans turn into begging whines. Not until I feel your hands go uncontrollably to my head to control your orgasm. I first want to feel the unbidden clenching of your legs as my tongue takes you over the edge and keeps pushing. For a second.
Do you want me inside now? I'd love to feel my cock slide deep into your burning wetness. But maybe not now...
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12:58 PM
I came twice last weekend. It was a record with her.
I have a new girlfriend and the two-hours distance between us makes it somewhat of a long-distance thing. My Long-Distance Girlfriend (LDG) and I got together at the end of March. I met her through on-line personals. We talked for nine days in a row on the phone and then I went to her place for a four-hour date.
I wrote her a poem on the way. I'd promised her I would to convince her to cancel her other date that night. I showed up at her house about 5:00 on Saturday. We'd talked earlier in the week about tickling being one of her favorite methods of flirting. I talked about how incredibly ticklish I was. (I think this contributes to my sexual dysfunction, but I'm getting ahead of myself.) When I got there we talked for about 10 minutes.
Then she tickled me.
Then I kissed her. For about 15 minutes without a break. Then off and on (more on than off) for the next twenty-three hours. We went to supper. We tried to watch
The Princess Bride, but we couldn't stop kissing. She has the longest tongue of any woman I've ever met. It's too bad she isn't bi, because some lucky girl is missing out. Her kisses are passionate. She claims mine are. I kissed her neck in what I feel is just a natural part of making out, but apparently some guys never think to. She said, "You're kissing my neck!"
Apparently this drove her to sexual madness. Neither she nor I had any thought that this date would turn into sex. That was not the intention, I assure you. When I kissed her neck a second time, before even leaving for dinner, she said "if you keep that up, you may not be going home tonight."
Needless to say, I kept it up.
About halfway into the movie, she'd long stopped commenting about me kissing her neck, I asked her to "make love to me."
She closed her eyes and moaned as we reached the bedroom, "Please tell me this isn't a one-night stand."
"I have no intention of going anywhere," I replied. And I'm glad I didn't. I had an amazing night. Don't get me wrong, the sex was fairly mediocre (based on the three--or four, if you count the virgin--past partners I've had). She had many orgasms in many positions. I found that after having oral sex performed on her to climax, she is ravenous and adamant about returning the favor. Unfortunately it involved squeezing and teeth and a few other things that may have worked on her Ex-husband, but just distracted me to the point of utter non-arousal.
The sex started good, but she switched positions so many times, that I eventually became numb. Like I've commented before, I like to find something that feels good and keep doing it. I was focused on her orgasm in general that night, so it wasn't a huge thing for me. I felt good making her feel good.
But, what made me feel the best was the amazing skilled game of spoons she played. We slept in a few positions, our bodies always entwined. We'd wake up every few hours and kiss the softest warmest deepest kisses and fall back asleep.
In the morning before I left, she finally focused on me and I ended the weekend with a mind-blowing orgasm.
There's more story in between then and now that I will tell, but I need to tie in my opening statement.
Last weekend I went to see her. We had talked a great deal and practiced a bit and talked some more. She's eager to learn what pleases me. She was very happy and very proud to give me orgasms on both Friday and Saturday. She's learning that I need just as much foreplay as her. She's learning that sometimes we need to find a position that works for me.
I've learned that the only way she is orgasmic during intercourse is if she has what she calls a "jump-start orgasm" by mouth or had ahead of time. I'm cool with that. Now that she knows how to pleasure me--I'll tell you the blowjob school story soon--and I know that she needs the "jump-start," things can only get better.
We have no conception that this is an everlasting relationship. We are both recently divorced. I am Mr. Right-now for her. And she for me. The distance gives me time to get the rest of my life in order without obsessing about getting laid.
I do anyway. I need to lose weight. I'm obsessing about losing my gut because I'd really like to fuck a few young, skinny girls before I settle down again or simply get too old.
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4/24/2003 2:56 PM
Is cybersex infidelity?
Many of my more conservative friends would say "yes." What about falling in love with someone else but not having sex? Isn't that worse? While I was married, I fell in love (requited) with a few women I never fucked. (Let's leave "is oral sex actually sex?" out of the question for now.) I also had cybersex with some women I never met in person. Near the end of my marriage, I fell in love with and had cybersex with two women I never met.
GFL (Girl from a Faraway Land) was one of them. I got an email from her husband last week.
What kind of pathetic low-life goes around sending pics of his dick to married women? Stay away from us, loser.
On Tuesday she said she'd agreed never to speak to me again. She also said that the resulting fight with her husband ended up with sex. I nearly teared up. Seriously.
It was a victory.
You see, she fell for me first, and soon shared the fact that her husband never fucked her anymore. We had an intense intellectual synergy from the beginning. The infatuation and the cybersex naturally followed. After months of being "in love" with her, it eventually settled to being very good friends with occasional cyber-benefits.
"Jeez, cybersex, oh wow," you comment sarcastically. But let me ask you this: how well does your real-world lover know you sexually? I knew GFL. I knew her mind and I knew her body.
Does your lover know exactly what spot on your neck makes you instantly wet (simply by describing a kiss there)? How about how playful you really want him to be with your tongue when you kiss?
I knew her physiology so well that I knew how hard, soft, wet, dry, and how long to tongue her clit before burying my tongue inside of her and massaging her clit with my nose, and when to surface and lick it again. I knew where she liked guy's hands to be when they went down on her.
I could tell exactly at what point she would beg me to drive my hard cock into her and how long I could refuse, teasing her, before it truly made her mad.
She liked it missionary and very, very hard. Eventually, I worked her into positions and rhythms she'd never experienced. I expanded her sexual universe from my chat window.
Often, she would touch herself to bring on orgasm, but just as often she would not--relying solely on my words to paint vivid enough pictures of our bodies slamming together, her body moving up the bed with each thrust and the feel of my hot breath on her neck to bring her off. And, yes, she was really having an orgasm without touching herself. Don't go there.
Sometimes we'd just make out. Sometimes we'd just cuddle under a comforter--the word pictures so real as to grant us genuine comfort.
It happened one Saturday. It was months after we'd "met" and near the end of our hot-and-heavy period, and I had already left my wife (at my wife's request). We were both home alone and chatting.
We brought each other off several times that morning. I always masturbated, as I've never met a woman who could give me an orgasm without touching me. (But I'm taking applications!) Finally she wanted to see my "beast."
So I showed her.
I took a remarkably flattering picture of my wang and sent it to her via email. She loved it and came once again looking at it while I typed.
And she saved it. Over the last five or so months I kept asking if she had it and she assured me that she did. I told her she was nuts and she siad that perhaps she just wanted to live life on the edge a little.
As I said, our relationship had turned to friendship. We'd both found other partners for one thing or another. The picture was a novelty at this point--a bit of nostalgia. But he found it in her email.
I've been dismayed from the start over their sexual dysfunction. If my picture opened a tiny window to the unpleasant specter of cyber-infidelity, it opened up a pair of french doors to finding a solution for their marriage.
That doesn't make it all right. But it makes a victory in my mind.
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4/11/2003 9:49 AM
This is the first erotic email The Virgin ever sent me. This was when she lived my apartment complex. Enjoy. (Note the "virgin" qualities of the narrative.)
You knock on my door in the morning as [he] has already left for work and we decide to meet just one more time. I greet you in a seductive purple silk night outfit...you like what you see and right away you want to sieze my almost bare body. But I walk up and give you a big hug and immediately you smile thoughtfully. Then I take a small step back and look into your eyes. As we gaze quietly into each others eyes we can read the thoughts of one another, we know what we want, and we both want the same thing. I take my hand to your manhood and gently begin to caress it as I lick your lips. You take a big deep breath in showing me that you approve and this makes you feel very sexual. I begin to undo your pants and you acquire a sly grin on your face knowing what comes next. We kiss furiously for a little bit as you firmly grasp my silky butt. You touch a spot on my lower back/upper butt that makes me go wild and I fall to my knees and pull your pants to your feet as your manhood thrusts into my mouth. I begin licking the tip of it, almost to tease you because you just want it all in my mouth. You run your fingers through my hair romantically. I look up into your eyes asking for approval and you smile showing me that what I am doing is okay. I begin to take your manhood into my mouth again as I slide it slowly in and out...it is harder than before now...you must like what I am doing...before you can "get happy" in my mouth, you pull me up to where my lips meet yours, you don't want it to end just like that, we still have plenty of time. You rub your gently fingertips over my covered breasts and slide the silky top off of my soft body. I am standing in front of you topless and you take my left nipple into your mouth while caressing the right with your hand. This turns me on and makes me wild, as you know, and I pull you over to the bean bag and lay you down as I slowly slide my silk shorts off standing above you. To your delight I have no panties on and I reveal to you my virgin womanhood. You reach up to me, begging me to sit down on your [face]. I take my virgin womanhood and gently sit it on your face, you love this, it is something you have dreamed of. You begin kissing me wildly with your tongue there and I make the most amazing noises you have ever heard in your life. You feel my warm juices on your tongue and the sweet taste makes you lick me harder. I moan and tell you where it feels good. Soon you hear me start to tell you that I am going crazy, that I am getting so close. I beg you never to stop, never, oh, I can't take it, it feels so good. I want to live in this feeling forever...oh, I wish you could just take me, but this will have to do. Soon, you drive me over the edge and my legs grip firmly to your head as you devour the delight between my legs.
This is the best I have ever had and I tell you that when I am done.
Then I lay on top of you and place your manhood between my moist area and rub up and down until you ask me to finish you off in my mouth because you are getting so close. I slowly slide down, keeping eye contact with you the whole time and suck your manhood up so hard that you take another deep breath in....oh yes you exclaim! As I move your manhood in and out of my mouth I continue to suck harder and harder until you explode inside my mouth. When you are done we lay together on the bean bag for a few minutes then realize we should have left a half hour ago for work....we don't care though. We decide to take half days and we continue to lay there together for a couple more hours, just to be together...
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4/10/2003 8:13 AM
The Virgin (Part I)
The Virgin had a great ass.
She wore a tight pair of jeans with a red heart embroidered on the pocket. She smiled her crooked smile at me over the counter at the gas station and asked me to buy her a lottery ticket. Unbeknownst to me, her boyfriend stood next to me, glowering. I bought her the ticket and slipped her a card promoting my other Web site, replete with email address.
She was twenty and a student at a local university. I was thirty-one and suffering through the tenth miserable year of marriage. She emailed me a week later. From school.
I really couldn't even remember what she looked like. All I knew was that if I'd given her that card, she must have been attractive in some way. I don't give ugly girls my email address. The emails were fast and furious. We'd email up to the last second before she needed to leave school and catch "Friends" on Thursdays. To date, we have traded well over
ten thousand emails. Never IMs. Seldom phone calls.
I soon found that she had recently learned that her supposed virgin boyfriend (they had a pact to remain virgins till marriage) had fathered a child by another girl. She found out when she accidentally opened a request from the court for child support after the baby was already born. Personally, I'd been thrown out of the house for the week only a month before due to the same issues that eventually led to the demise of my marriage. We both had an emotional hole to fill and we found we filled each other's nicely.
I was anxious the first morning we got together before work. Having been relegated to the couch upon my return, I woke up nearly every hour through the night to make sure I didn't miss my alarm. We met in the parking lot by the gas station. I was surprised by her bad teeth. I am usually one to find good teeth very attractive. She'd had a bicycle injury when she was eight and had only recently had her front two teeth replaced. The bond of our emails swept those concerns away for me.
I tried to hold her hand, but she was reluctant. She was not only a virgin, but very shy and incredibly inexperienced in the ways of courtship. We met for lunch two or three more times before she allowed a kiss. The anticipation was overwhelming. The kiss remains to this day the best in my life. Her technique was not remarkable but her passion made up for it. I had to sit a few minutes afterward before I could get my brain to operate the car to get me back to work.
We met for lunch and made out for four months. Only kissing. Nothing else. That fulfilled me. After four mouths I actually asked her if I could touch the rest of her body. She eagerly agreed. By some remarkable happenstance, six months after we'd met my family and I moved into the same apartment building as her. She was one floor up and two doors down from me. For the next three months until they moved, her boyfriend would leave for work and I would leave for work early and stop up at her apartment for a half-hour of heavy petting. The farthest we ever went was her being topless.Her magnificent breasts were adorned by large, pale aureolas and very small, but incredibly sensitive nipples. On day as I lay on my back and she lay facing up on top of me, she let me feel her bare breasts without allowing me to see them. This was the first time. I honestly thought she was going to climax simply by nipple contact. To this day, I'm convinced that I could give her an orgasm simply by sucking her nipples. Maybe I'll try one day.
Thinking back to those apartment days, It's a wonder I was never caught.
Though we never came close to actual sex, the times were good. She loved the feel of my hard cock though my pants. I used to go into the gas station when they were slow and she'd "arrange the candy." The candy shelf blocked the view from the large front windows. Only visible to the outside world would be our head and shoulders. Breathing on her neck and whispering "do you like how that feels?" into her ear, I'd stand behind her pressing my hardness against her tight little denim-covered ass and wrap my arms around her. She buck back against me and I'd caress her moist fly. Then a customer would come and we'd act innocent. Before I'd leave, I'd gently force her into the back room and kiss her deeply.
Then she moved. And quit the gas station.
But thank God she still went to school near where I worked. I'd make excuses for working late and meet her at the campus. It was during this period (over a year since our first meeting) that she began encouraging me to explore her hot virgin folds. In the parking garage, she bucked against my hand, fucking my fingers into her as she screamed, never quite reaching orgasm.
Well, this is longer than I anticipated. You'll have to hear more about The Virgin later. Feel free to ask for more information, as I've probably confused the timeline here a bit or left out details.
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4/07/2003 1:47 PM
Lunch-and-grope with The Virgin on Friday turned out to be lunch only due to her paranoia about being so close to her workplace (mental note: lunch-and-gropes should always be scheduled for MY neck of the woods, not hers). She certainly felt shaved clean through the slacks though. We are scheduling mutual days off on the 17th (day before Good Friday) which she promises to be a rollicking roll in the hay. I really need to tell you her story soon. A Virgin (sort of) until her recent marriage, she has been practicing with her husband to overcome her psycho-physiological issue (specifically
vaginisimus). She doesn't have faith that he knows enough to actually make her orgasmic during sex. She wants to try a variety of positions with me (strictly a matter of science, of course) as well as 69 for flavor.
I've had blowjobs from five different women this year and she's the one that was the least creative and least experienced. Ironically, she also the only one to bring me to orgasm in short order. I think when a woman gets too clever during oral sex and tries many different things, my cock get weary and numb. The same during sex. I like varied and sundry sex, but if you want me to come quickly, find something that feels good and DON'T CHANGE.
All she did during the blowjob (besides unnervingly leave in her retainer) was cup my balls with one hand and follow her lips with the other hand. Exactly the right pressure with the tongue and ba-da-boom! Now if she'd just swallow. I think two of the others would have swallowed if they'd just concentrated on my orgasm rather than thier creativeness.
That reminds me of what I heard or read (I don't recall which) a woman say about oral sex. "Just when the guy gets to doing exactly the right thing, you tell him that and he has to do it faster or harder or something. No! THAT is the thing. Do THAT thing. Don't try to make it more intense. JUST DO THAT!"
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4/03/2003 2:58 PM
The date from last night was incredibly hot. This morning I got the "lets just be friends" email. Alas.
My Ex just left her boyfriend to live in my basement for a few weeks. For the record, I won't say no to head.
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4/02/2003 5:34 PM
The Virgin just called me out of the blue. (Not a virgin anymore, long story. Later.) We're supposed to have a lunch-and-grope on Friday. That's our longstanding arrangement since before I got divorced and before she got married.
She called from her hotel room. She was alone and on business. She called my cell at work so I walked outside and talked her into a self-induced, screaming orgasm. She wanted me to go to the men's room after I got off the phone and do myself the same favor. I debated not doing it as I have that date tonight and if things got hot and heavy I wanted Mr. Happy to be clean. I decided that it probably wouldn't get any hotter than kissing tonight, if that, so I took her up on it.
On a whim I called her from the private men's room and she obliged by telling me what she'd like me to do to her. First time I've ever had phone sex in the bathroom at work with other people still around. Wild. I mean, in the middle of the night with my office door locked and no one else around, sure. But this was new. And very cool.
She says she's started shaving herself clean since the last time we were together. She wants to let me feel it on Friday and arrange a full-blown bed session in a couple of weeks.
And just think, I was lamenting that I wasn't getting any. It's all a matter of perspective, I guess.
Remind me to tell you about the last two weekends with the other two women...
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3:15 PM
2:21 PM
I have a date tonight. She's the most beautiful girl I've ever been emailed a jpg of. Met her on a personals site. She's local. She's hot. I have no idea what will come of this evening. I don't even know if she'll show up. I don't know if I want to have sex with her or even try.
Kissing would be nice.
Or spoons.
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1:17 PM
I am divorced. But it started before the divorce was final. In fact it started before the divorce was a congealed thought in my mind.
I was married for more than a decade before my divorce was final in February of this year. I married the first girl I ever slept with. I slept with no other till I was banished from my home. That's as straightforward as any of this will get.
Hang on for the roller coaster.
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