Sunday, February 19, 2017

Confessions!

In spite of the fact that I felt like crap from some weird cold that has been making the rounds for weeks, I figured a few beers and the hot tub would feel pretty good.  As soon as it was dark, we slipped in the tub and enjoyed the heat.

It only took a few minutes for me to look up and see that the neighbor on that side of the house had raised the blinds in an upstairs room.  This is the second time since moving our new tub to the far end of the deck that I've had an inkling that either the father or younger teen have been trying to sneak a peek at us.  Not to worry, they can't see a thing.  And more importantly, my wife just doesn't care.  "If they want to see my tits, have at it." As she lifts her body above the water to expose her big melons toward the window.

We stayed in for almost an hour during which time I lounged with my dick occasionally rising up so she could offer a suck.  I'm not a fan of sex in a hot tub or at a beach or in the ocean, just because, once you've done it, you know that there is a rubbery feel to the whole experience.  Add sand and while it makes for a great love scene in a movie, there is sand involved.  But, there is nothing wrong with hot tub foreplay.

My wife revealed to me that earlier in the day, she had a phone call with one of her guy friends.  As way of background, this is a guy she knew in high school and had been purely platonic.  I'm not talking about Pancho, another friend from her youth, but this guy I guess I can call "Big B"  was a guy she hung out with and talked to between classes.  When we first got married, he was already married and in another state so, aside from hearing about him, I never met the guy or had any real thoughts, jealous or otherwise regarding him.  His name would pop up over the years but really, he was just another face in her high school year book to me.

I did in fact meet this guy recently.  We attended a one of these mini-reunion type of things for my wife's high school friends.  After years of having lost contact, my wife found Big B via FB (of course) and invited him to the little reunion.  He was nice, funny, and I thought a cool guy.  And, as he has always been to me, non-threatening as far as jealousy goes.  Then again, I'm never jealous, so that doesn't say much.

So back to her confession.  She told me that while I was at work, she saw him on FB and told him she wanted to tell him something very private.  He called her so they could talk and out it came.  Everything about her relationship with JD, the fact that this was not our first time around in the threesome game and the fact that I'm totally comfortable with her calling him her boyfriend.

He told her that he had read about this scenario in Penthouse Forum (does that still exist?) but always thought it was just a made up, fantasy thing.  He said now that he actually knows somebody involved, he was happy to find out it was a real thing.  He asked her the usual questions you would ask a friend who is having sex with someone outside their marriage - you know, are you going to leave your husband, that sort of thing.

As I listened to her describe the conversation, I realized I was as hard as a rock.  This idea of another person knowing these private details about me and our thing left me completely turned on.  I didn't for a minute have visions of Big B having sex with her, it was just the idea that this guy who has known her for so long now knew such private information.

And of course, this is one of the reasons I need to get myself in check.  It is clear that I have some boundary issues in that, I seem to have none.  There is relief in confession but should there be a sexual turn-on?  I suspect I have some form of what happens when an exhibitionist pulls up to a bus stop and flashes old ladies.  I've never done such a thing but I imagine the pervert opening his jacket to reveal his junk is somehow excited by the look of shock on the old woman's face.  Yet, in my scenario of revealing secrets to people, they most often aren't even shocked.  Nothing surprises people when it comes to sex - we've heard it all.  The president got BJ's in the Oval Office.  We get it.

So what of all these confessions?  Something interesting happened Saturday evening.  We attended a party at the home of Mr. and Mrs. JD.  The place was packed with couples from the church Mrs. JD attends.  Lest you think it was a bunch of holy rollers singing bible hymns, I'd say there was enough beer, wine and booze to keep things going all night.  We only stayed for a while, just to be sociable.

So after a few beers, some good barbecue and some chit-chat, we saw people leaving and decided we'd rather go home and get in the hot tub again.  We said our goodbyes and Mrs. JD insisted on pictures for her FB page.  If you see the one lady with a near stranglehold on the other, that would be a very drunk Mrs. JD squeezing tight the head and neck of the woman who sees her husband on the side.  Awkward.  She then told us that we only see one another at parties and we really needed to get together as couples so we could be more intimate.  My wife and I looked at each other not sure whether to laugh or run.  Clearly, she meant that she wished we had more time to talk without the loud atmosphere at a party, but still.  Like I say, Awkward.


Monday, February 13, 2017

For Those Who've Asked...

When you think of it as an online journal, some sort of public daily diary, there has to be a recognition that your are seeking some sort of attention.  Otherwise, why put it online?  Why not scribble notes in a book or have a secret thumb-drive full of essays written at the end of the day?   When I started this blog in 2007, I already knew I had some urges involving exposing my personal inner fights with sexuality.  At that time, I already realized I was Bi (cue the troll) but was struggling with how to process it.  I also already knew about my eagerness for what the Internet was calling the Hotwife culture, and in 2007, I just assumed that aspect of my life was over.

I recall that feeling of looking at my old SiteMeter counter and learning that 100 different visitors had read my blog in a single day.  It seemed as if I was revealing things about myself that either connected with other readers or at least, intrigued them enough to click on the button.  No, I wasn't posting anything that would ever bring on fame and fortune, but this blog for years has brought me an incredible outlet for my ideas, my weird thoughts, a place to share in great detail sexual exploits, and a good number of people willing to take a few minutes to e-mail me.  I appreciate that, so very much.

My problem isn't so much the blog or what I have written about.  The problem is that, with the exception of the two fictional stories I posted, the things I have written are true with only minor (and often too, too minor) changes to shield people's identities.  And as many of you who have followed for a while know, instead of using this blog as my only outlet for revealing those otherwise private details of my life (and the lives of those around me), I have grown bolder and opened up many details of myself to people I know, often at work, often with close family friends.

This behavior can seem reckless, almost self-destructive.  In this age of public shaming, of outrage over anything, of finding bad intent or offense in casual conversation, I've allowed my inner craving of being open and honest with people to get the better of my otherwise common sense approach to the vetting process.  What that means is, I have allowed the thrill, the adrenaline rush of revealing myself to people I should never have either burdened with or trusted with, much of the things I have written about here.  Not to say anything has come of it.  I'm not preparing for testimony before some Senate Sub-Committee on Creepiness.  But suffice it to say, in this world of "Gotcha", once it has been said, that train has left the station.

Easily, the vast majority of people who know me in person and also know my blog story are either okay because they've got their own kinks to worry about, or are simply unfazed by anything I think is super sexy and revealing.  You've sucked a dick?  Big deal.  Who hasn't?  You've had threesomes?  Big deal.  My wife pulled a train last New year's Eve. But there may be one, possibly two of the people I've revealed truths about myself to that could someday, for whatever reason, simply expose the truth in an uncomfortable way.  But we all face that in everyday interactions with the people in our lives.  There is a reason why gossip is bad.

There is no immediate threat, there is no urgent issue, I am not hiding from creditors.  I just needed to revert to DRAFT mode for a while and really contemplate what I wanted to share both on this blog and in my reality or as the kids used to say, In Real Life.

At some point, I'll be posting again regularly, and at some point, perhaps some of the old posts will pop back up as blasts from the past.  But I do need to do a lot of editing.  One reader told me that she found a lot of broken links in the older posts, and that is some house cleaning that needs to be done.

I know, once on the Internet, it is there forever.  My problem has been that, the same applies to what I tell the people in real life.  I need to take stock of that and use the appropriate outlet for the information being revealed.

Sunday, January 29, 2017

Taking a Break

I'm still around.  E-mail still works.  I just need to do some internal housekeeping.

Sunday, September 16, 2007

First Day of School...

It was the first day of school and in the first grade classroom, the teacher was going from child to child getting to know her students.

She addresses the first little girl and asks, "Tell me little girl, what is your name?" And the little girl responds, "My name is Mary Smith." And the teacher says, "Welcome to the first grade Mary."

She moves on to a little boy and asks him and he says, "My name is Tommy Johnson" and she welcomes Tommy to the first grade, and this goes on and on with Michael and Joey and Alice.

Finally, she gets to another student and asks, "Tell me little boy, what is your name?" "Jimmy Fuckbreak, Ma'am." he responds politely.

"I'm sorry," the teacher asks, "what was that again?

"Jimmy Fuckbreak is my name." the little boy proudly says.

Now, not wanting to create a situation, the teacher thinks to herself that perhaps another student has put this little bastard up to this or perhaps a deviant teacher is playing a trick on her, she says to the boy, "So, say Jimmy, do you have any brothers or sisters in this school?" and Jimmy quickly says, "Yes, Ma'am. I have a sister in the 6th grade."

With that, the teacher moves along and when finished, she tells all the new kids that it is time for them to put their heads on their desks and have a little nap.

As the children take a rest, the teacher quietly leaves and goes up to the classroom full of sixth graders and peeks into the door way. She looks around and asks, "Hey, you got any Fuckbreaks in here?"

A little sixth grader pipes up and says, "Lady, this is the sixth grade, we don't get fuck breaks. Hell, we don't even get recess!"