Thursday, June 22, 2017

Random Missives...

Dear Random Note Reader,

I was siting in the office of a female colleague who has been super flirtatious in the past.  Okay, she has showed me her pussy, that has to count as flirtatious.  She is tall, in fact she towers over most of the guys in the building.  She is a runner and has the legs and tan to show for it.  

As we talked about some work related issue, I stopped mid sentence and said, "Jesus, your legs are so smooth and long and beautiful.  I'd love to just rub them and fondle them."

She got a really embarrassed grin on her face and actually looked away trying to hide her quickly reddening face.  

"What's wrong? Did I upset you?" I asked. 

"No.  It's just that I never hear any compliments from anyone."

"Well, I wouldn't say it if it wasn't true." I offered. 

This made me think about my own wife and what a true, unromantic asshole I can be.  


I've realized that two of the younger women I have occasional emails with are just unreachable for me.  In both cases, I think that my standard words of wisdom or advice are completely useless.  It makes me feel old and it makes me feel inadequate.  

I get colleagues of all ages and levels of seniority come to me for advice about issues both work related and personal. I'm just one of those people who seems to be able to make people feel better about the situation they are in.  Yet with these two women, I find that I have nothing of any value to offer.   Of course, I'm referring to both Emma and Erin.   

Both have their own personal issues that I want desperately to offer my advice on, and in both cases, I seem to find nothing of redeeming value to say.  Emma actually tells me the truth, that my words often do more harm than good.  All I can do is apologize for being inadequate.  Erin is a little less forthcoming in her complaint. She simply tells me she loves me and ends the conversation, not to be heard from again for three weeks.  

I'll share this little note I sent to one of them today:
I know saying this is more for me than you, but I feel like I'm unable to say anything of any value to you.  I think I probably upset you more than anything.  It really is confusing to me. That's not your problem, but mine.  I guess I'm just so used to being able to come up with something to say that makes people feel better, and in your case, I seem to do the opposite.  I've always known you to be a very intelligent woman and perhaps that is part of the problem.  I say things to you that sound smart to other people, but to you, my words are simple and of little value.   
I'm not trying to feel sorry for myself, sorry that I can't impress you.  I'm just trying to state what is probably obvious to you.  I just don't have the mind to compare with the conversations you want to have.  I'll admit it is depressing.  I enjoy what you have to say, but there is no joy in being a burden for you to have to read what I have to offer. 
Meh.  That was pretty lame.  But it felt good to say it.


There is a sense of dread when I wake up these days. It isn't me not wanting to get up and head to work   It actually has to do with the weekends coming sooner, the months going faster and the years starting to spin forward much quicker than I recall they did when I was much younger.  In the grand scheme of things, I know I am still fairly young.  I mean, the people who are ten years my senior still seem reasonably young in my mind. But I'd be lying if I didn't say that I'm starting to wish things would slow down a bit.  

I got a call from my doctor's nurse a while ago with instructions to double a dose of one of the many drugs I take.  It's just another sign to me that I've got to get my shit together.  Someone told me not long ago that I was in a downward spiral.  I don't think she meant physically, but it seems to fit.

I have been walking around my neighborhood after work these days to help get some exercise.  It is already in the high 90's here in Texas (102 as I type this) and it isn't unreasonable to find that sort of heat oppressive when it comes to exercise.  

Yesterday I was ready to do my walk when my wife suggested I go with her to our local grocery.   I turned on my Fitbit to track my steps and interestingly, I walked almost as much in the air conditioning and with the added bonus of seeing a fine buffet of young professional women either shopping on the way home from work or shopping on their way home from the gym.  In either case, I approve!  Call me a pervert but I love a woman dressed for a professional setting and I also love a woman dressed for the gym.   I guess I should be happy that I'm at least getting exercise while enjoying the view.

I've already had my mid-life crisis (many of you followed it as it happened on the blog), so this is just me saying, I need to make the best of things before they slip away.


Please don't get the idea that I'm in some sort of funk.  These are just some random notes I e-mail myself throughout the day.

Also, if you e-mail, please know that I am only able to access my e-mail from my truck during the work day.  Yep, one of those jobs where we can;t have cell phones inside or access naughty G-Mail accounts.  I do try to check and respond as many times as I can, but I actually do more than flirt with my co-workers and sneak off to back offices for BJ's.

Comments and e-mails are always appreciated.

May your day be filled with joy,


Wednesday, June 21, 2017

C'mon Blossom...

Dear Readers,

I wanted to share this link to a great post by Emmy at RTWS concerning Miyam Bialak's recent vlog on Open Relationships.  By all means click on the link to the video response by Cunning Minx. Interesting stuff all around.


Friday, June 16, 2017


Dear Jealousy,

I don't know why I missed the ding of my phone as I was driving but when I stopped into a store on the way home, I realized I had missed a handful of messages from my wife.  No words, just pictures of JD's dick in her mouth, between her tits, on her stomach.

I sent a note back, "Still there?"

She responded, "Drinking a beer."

I had missed my chance to join in but in truth, I'm good with that.  Compersion is that feeling of joy you get when your partner experiences pleasure. It really is the opposite of jealousy,

Later that evening, my wife asked me if I wanted to get off.  I felt the urge but I was also tired.  She told me she was sorry I didn't make it in home in time to do that thing I like to do, but I said it was fine.

I truly don't have to be present to feel included as long as she tells me about it or sends pictures.  She asked what I do with the pictures.  Do I jack off?  Not really.  I look at them and just enjoy the moment.

If someone had not come up with this term, compersion, to describe the feeling, I'm not sure I could ever explain it.

I've never really been into the current stereotype of "cuckold" which you will find in porn or on a lot of sex blogs and forums these days.  I just don't need the whole concept of this humiliated, sissified, wimp of a husband who helplessly watches the stronger bull fuck his wife.  I mean, by definition, I am a cuckold, but I prefer to think of our relationship as the Hotwife variety. Or, how about simply stating that we are open to a non-traditional arrangement.

We have fun when the three of us, me, my wife and our friend JD, get together.  There is a lot of laughter, playfulness and of course, pleasure.

The idea that when the two of them are alone, they have a different experience together, doesn't escape me, nor does it bother me.  I'm simply not jealous of that time.  Yet, this confuses my wife.  She bends over backwards to initiate the conversation afterwards.  Do I have questions, concerns, am I still okay. Do I need different pictures, do I want them to do or not do a particular thing when I'm not present.

I have come to a realization and my wife is frank about the fact that there are things JD does for her that I cannot.  I accept this and instead of feeling less of a husband, I'm actually pretty happy that I am open to her having the pleasure JD provides her.

This compersion is something that more couples could use to make a stronger relationship.  Imagine if a wife did not get upset upon learning that on a business trip, her husband used a sex worker to engage in a kink that she herself does not offer on the menu?  What if instead she encouraged that behavior?   The wife won't blow him, but if he can have that occasional BJ away from her, aren't they both much happier?

When I come home and my wife tells me that she spanked JD so hard she left welts on his ass, I'm happy for both of them.  I'm good with light slaps to the balls, but I have no desire to give or receive such punishment to my ass cheeks.  Are we not all then benefiting from this arrangement?

Interestingly, I heard a conversation on one of the podcasts I follow where they just mentioned casually that open relationships are becoming more and more open.  That is to say that, society is realizing that this is more than just some 1960's free love thing for hippies, but that more people are openly admitting to and recognizing the value of these arrangements, however they manifest themselves.

In the past week we've watched House of Cards and Orange is the New Black.  Everyone knows that Claire Underwood, the President's wife has a lover, with the his complete acceptance.  In one of my favorite scenes this season, Frank confronts his wife's lover and says, "Don't cheat on my wife."

And on OITNB, there were two story lines following polyamorous arrangements,  One, a woman with a husband and a much younger lover, another a Muslim woman who in flashbacks relives her husband taking on a younger second wife that she herself instigated.

We can all agree that Hollywood tends to push the envelop in a way that some people argue "forces" lifestyles on us, but to those of us living this situation, it doesn't seem forced at all.

For now, JD is a fixture in our relationship.  Our time with him is very limited, which I think all three of us agree is both frustrating but good.  Where I originally approached this from the perverted aspect of getting off on seeing my wife with another guy, something I've enjoyed nearly the entire tenure of our marriage, I now grasp the emotional value of this relief valve for all of us.  This is nothing to be jealous of for me.

Happy to watch, happy to hear about it,


Sun bathing Beauty Part II

This is a follow up to the letter to my neighbor, the sun bather.

Here's the deal, I took this picture by just pointing my phone over the fence during a week day when I knew the neighbors were at work.  It seems so simple but even I, the guy who has seemingly risked so many risks at work, would never even consider taking a picture like this if the sun bathing beauty were outside.
It goes beyond the embarrassment of being caught. That would be on me and I'd say whatever I could to talk myself out of it.  But what about her?

You can see that she has sheets up to block the view between the cracks of the fence.  In fact, the panel I lifted my phone over has a sheet blocking the cracks on my side.

I actually like this lady and would hate to make her feel unsafe or exposed in the privacy of her own backyard.  Even if I was the guy who had to face the music, I couldn't allow myself to make her feel uncomfortable.

Now we can talk all day about the things you have to put up with when you live in a community full of other people with homes pushed together like chicken coops.  You can say it is the risk you take when you walk into your backyard knowing the neighbors can see much of what you do.  Look no further than the risk my wife and I take when we get in our hot tub naked.

If the man who lives behind us hoisted his fat ass up to peer over the fence and see into our hot tub, I'd just look at him and say, "Really?"

Of course my wife would probably just whip out her tits and flash him.

My point is, we all know the risk but that is no reason to be the guy who makes a lady who just wants to tan her delicious ass and fine legs and perky boobies any more uncomfortable than she has to be.

So for now, no pictures.  But I'll look out the window and sneak a peek without her being the wiser.

Sun Bathing Beauty

Dear Sun-Goddess Next Door,

I'm a horrible neighbor. You don't know this but first, my wife corrupts the foreign family on the other side of us by flashing her tits.  Now, I have this confession about you.

I've noticed for a while that you have sheets strategically placed over panels of the privacy fence between our yards.  At first, I told my wife I thought it was some new home and garden technique to spiffy up the back yard. I mean, after all, you are a designer.  I learned that when I stalked your Facebook page.

Anyway, about two weeks ago I was upstairs in my man cave and just happened to look out the back window into your yard.  The sheets covering the fence all made sense now that I could actually look down into your yard and see you sunbathing.  Topless.

In fairness to me, a) I'm a voyeur and b) you are extraordinarily beautiful.  I see you some mornings coming back from the gym as I'm leaving for work.  Your dedication to a fit life is working because in spite of you being close to fifty, you easily outshine women half your age.

It's only too bad (for me) that because of the angle peering out through the window and the fact that I don't have super-power eyes that allow them to work like binoculars, I could only get a nice view of side-boob that day.

But yesterday, I took the dog out back and casually caught a glimpse through one of the fence panels that didn't have a sheet covering the tiny spaces between boards, and I saw some movement in your yard.  Of course I quietly retreated and went back upstairs for a peek out the window.

I've always enjoyed you in the yoga pants you wear, but it was especially nice to see you on your stomach wearing a thong with your perfect ass cheeks facing my direction.

I know it is completely unneighborlike of me to admire you from afar, but there is one thing I feel like I need to tell you: Don't forget the sunscreen.

Creepily Yours,


Office Work

Dear Director of Human Resources,

I walked into CoWorker H's office to discuss a work related issue and immediately segued the conversation into an invitation to meet me in one of our break-out offices for a blow job.  These are private offices with limited access, and since I had opened one for just this reason, I was comfortable that we would not be disturbed.

"Do you mean right now?" H asked.

"Now or when you get a few minutes." I said, shrugging my shoulders.

H looked at his computer screen and said to himself, "I guess this can wait."

We walked into the back office and I took a seat in front of one of the computer systems and logged on, suggesting that if anyone were to come in, we would look like we were discussing work.  As I typed in the password, I could hear H unzipping his Casual Friday jeans.

I spun around in the chair to find his fairly erect fat cock in my face, and without hesitation began sucking him.  His dick is thick and big.  It isn't as long as I've seen but I pride myself in taking him all the way to the back of my throat without gagging.

As I used my tongue and mouth to pleasure him, I wrapped one hand at the base and stroked it, borrowing a technique I've watched women on Tumblr videos use.  I was pleased at the sounds he made as I eagerly sucked him.

When I removed the hand from the jerking motion and moved my mouth all the way to the base, then began swirling my tongue on his hard cock, I could hear his soft moaning.  With both my hands on his ass, as if to pull his dick further into my mouth, I could feel his legs trembling.  I know this feeling having been the recipient of wobbly legs myself from time to time.

After several minutes I backed off and asked him if he was okay.  I wanted his load and was ready for him to flood my throat, but I wasn't sure he was ready.  He responded by putting his dick back in my mouth, which made me happy.

As I continued to service H I began contemplating how I should position his cock when he unloaded.  In all the times he and I have played this game, he has never cum in my mouth.  I don't feel bad for a few reasons, most of which is, he prefers giving head.  But also, he has had some male issues and in order for him to ejaculate, he has to have certain conditions working in his favor.

As I continued the enjoyable task, I imagined a load big enough to cause me to choke or perhaps pull away mid ejaculation creating an awkward mess for both of us.  Alas, his dick would not cooperate this time around.   The nerves of being at work and potentially being walked in on is certainly a limiting factor.

I have no such fear these days.  We switched places and now I was standing with my dick pulled from my jeans and his mouth was working me.

I shut my eyes and let my head fall back as H worked my dick with his brilliant tongue.  The man, for only taking up this pleasure in his mid fifties, has the skills of a well paid experienced escort.  I flip that little switch in my mind which accepts that orgasm is not only an option, but fairly imminent.  I've "passed the falls" as Savage describes, and the moment of release has arrived.

I let H know that I was about to cum and that only increased the pleasure that he was deriving from sucking my cock.  The man loves my dick and the taste of my seed.

Where moments earlier I had been contemplating how to handle his load and the what ifs of not being able to swallow it all, now I was flooding his throat with every last bit of juice my body could produce since having fucked my wife only last night.  Not bad for an old guy, hey?

H doesn't allow a drop to escape his mouth.  By the time I am placing my spent pud back into my jeans, he has left it completely clean of any remnants or evidence of cum.  My legs are left just as wobbly as his and I have to take a seat to recover.

Over the next fifteen minutes we talk about sex and the people we work with; who we would enjoy blowing or banging.  When we leave the back office, he heads off to lunch with another colleague and I grab my lunch from the refrigerator to heat up.  Business as usual.

Employee of the Month,


Finding Release

Dear Prudish Church People,

There was almost a full week of no sex in our house. Well, to be clear, no PIV sex, anyway.  Of course, I'm happy to accept blame in that, more often than not (98%) it is the wife who initiates sex.  So if she makes an attempt and I don't respond positively or at all, another day goes by.

I was ready for action but because I waited for her to initiate, and she didn't before I fell asleep, it had to wait another day.

If you read this and immediately see a problem, I'd say you are not blind!   And, though I've written about this topic ad nauseam, suffice it to say I take full responsibility.

It's weird.  I'm in a constant state of semi-arousal with the ideas or images of sexual thoughts on my mind.  Yet, I don't feel the need for release or crave the touch that I once did.  In other words, a sexual conversation, reading a sex blog or looking at a few pictures stimulates my mind enough to pacify my urges.  It isn't that I don't want sex, but I certainly don't need the physical aspect of it nearly as much as my wife does.  And truthfully, it has been that way for years.

What is new is that my wife has now realized that self-pleasure is an acceptable response to the lack of balance in our urges.   She happily notified me that she had given herself an while laying next to me as I slept.  She has also asked why I don't jack off in the shower.  I'm not saying I don't, but frankly I just don't feel the urge to release my energy the way I did when I was fifteen or even forty.

I'm happy to say I find her new found freedom to rub one out a nice thing.  I mean, I've encouraged this for years but her fucked up Catholic upbringing has been an issue.  But I guess if she can admit to God that she has a boyfriend, then fondling herself is no great leap.

I'm thankful for this new aspect of her life.  I could come across like a jerk and say that her finding the pleasure of masturbation relieves me of some of my husbandly obligation, but the truth is, I'm glad she has found this for herself.

For this, I want to thank my buddy, JD.  He has done his part to not only fill her briefcase hidden under the bed with toys she would have never bought on her own, but he has also been instrumental in helping her find her own personal pleasure machine.

To the parents and the parishioners who made self-love a bad, evil and naughty thing for a girl to do, please go fuck yourselves.  No, I mean, I encourage you to give it a try, too.

With great (self) pleasure,



Dear Attitude Adjuster,

I've been angry recently. That's not like me at all.  I can't pinpoint the start but there has just been this under tone of a seething anger.  Stressful, tiring, and I can't seem to shake it.

If you were to spend time with me, you probably wouldn't notice.  I'm very good at burying my moods.  Aside from the occasional person asking me if I'm stressed, I think I'm otherwise not one of those people who comes across as angry.  I'm not the first guy you look at and think post office shooting.  

This was a four day weekend for me and I purposely did not bring my work laptop home.  On Friday I spent time with my wife and some of the grandkids.  That evening, we went to the little bar down the street and had dinner.  While there, we thought about maybe taking an overnight trip to a casino a few hours away but that thought ended when we saw the casino hotel was booked. 

The next morning, I suggested we take a day trip to one of the many small Texas towns that has tried to revitalize itself with Main street shops and boutiques.  

The drive was okay but I found myself quietly becoming aggravated at the conversations my wife initiated.  Just complaints about people.  Sort of like me, complaining  about her right now.  

I just wanted to enjoy the drive without a running commentary about everything that pisses her off.  

When we got to the town and parked, I immediately copped an internal negative attitude about the shops we would visit.  I totally understand the need for business to make money, but I'm flabbergasted at the sheer gall some of these people have to charge what they charge for little Pinterest style crafts or crap they buy in bulk for pennies.  

I think there are super rich people who will come in and think dropping $50 for something that should cost $7 or $8 is fine.  I just don't.  And people wonder why Walmart is so successful.  Well, low prices and little Chinese kids working for a nickel a week.  

Anyway, I found myself really acting internally like an asshole and I didn't want to ruin my wife's time.  She truly enjoyed the day and irritatingly thanked me half a dozen times for surprising her with the day trip.  We went onto an art shop that was really nice.  A lot of the art was just shit, but there were some pieces that I felt would look nice in our home.  And then I started looking at the prices.  There was one wall with paintings of from the same artist.  Never heard of him but he was good.  But $2,500 for a painting that isn't as good as some of the high school student artwork I see at the Rodeo each year?  I so understand the time and skill that goes into it, but I thought it was just a hobby.

I did see a few photographs that were nice.  There was a black and white of an old bridge that crosses the Colorado River.  It was a nice picture but they wanted $275 (without the frame).  The funny thing was, the lady at the counter in the store right next door to the art gallery sold us post cards with the same bridge picture, but presented in color for $1.49.  That lifted my spirits, actually.  

As an aside, we easily blew $100 on ridiculous things that will no doubt be sold at a garage sale for pennies or more likely donated to the children's home.  

On Sunday my wife insisted that I go with her to get a pedicure.  Not going to lie, it feels good to have an Asian lady massage my feet and calves.  Too bad they all have small boobs.  Of course I look down their shirts.  That aside, there is definitely a stress relief in the whole process.  

I'm looking forward to going back to work This morning.  I feel like I need to get in the zone of my work and just take my mind off whatever it is that seems to be on my mind.  I can't figure out why, but going back to work just might be what I need to pull myself out of this funk.  

I'm rarely angry.  But when I am, I usually know why.  This has been different.  I'm going to count to ten, hit send and be done with this, whatever it is.  Wish me luck.

Over it,



Dear Bloodline,

What a great concept for a show.  A well respected family in the community who have a few really ugly secrets.  Everything was going great until you found out the third season was going to be the end of it all.  Honestly, I wish you had pulled a Deadwood and just gotten cut-off with no attempt at closure.

Season three had so much promise.  We would figure out how the writers were going to wrap up the story and put everything to bed.  And then came along episodes 9 and 10.  I was so confused.  There was no attempt to help the viewer understand what the heck was going on.  In fact, I watched episode 9 twice and was only more confused.

I think my biggest complaint about modern TV shows is the idea that the viewer is supposed to know what the characters are thinking.  I invested quite a bit of time in this show and it seems like you guys just gave up.  Breaking Bad.  Now that was how you end a series.  The Sopranos.  Yes.  But this Bloodline; You're not a bad show, but you did a bad ending.



Doing it Right

Dear Co-Worker Who is Doing it the Right Way,

When you first came to me, nervously wanting to confess something you thought might have an impact on your job, I was quick to ease your mind that all would be okay.  Of course, I was convinced you were about to confess that you were either gay or bi.  I did my best to make your confession easier by jumping the gun and announcing that, surprise, I'm bi!

You were polite in acknowledging my sexuality but then took a deep breath and reported that in addition to being happily married, you and your wife had both agreed that life would be even better if you were open to explore relationships with others.  In fact, you revealed, your wife had a steady boyfriend that she was seeing, and that you had also engaged in some fun times with other friends.

Not to be outdone, I quickly shrugged my shoulders and revealed that my wife also has a boyfriend.  We never allowed ourselves to go any deeper into details, but I assured you everything would be fine.  I then offered what I consider to be the rules.

1. Never lie about it.  If you are asked directly, do not lie about your situation.
2. Refuse to be blackmailed.  If someone attempts to hold your lifestyle against you, simply go to your leadership and out yourself.  

The reason you see all these former military leaders and high officials appearing before congress and being fired from their jobs is not so much that they enjoy sex outside the marriage, but because they lie about it when confronted.  If you intended to be in the military and play this game, you cannot lie about it when confronted, and you cannot make yourself a security risk because you are not willing to reveal yourself when the circumstances require it.

During your recent promotion ceremony, you invited both your wife and your girlfriend to attend the occasion.  Aside from the small number of people who know your arrangement, no one was the wiser that the friend helping your wife during the ceremony was more than just a friend of the family.

Any further detail is way too much.  I just want to congratulate you on being better at this than me and better than so many of the people who start down this path.  Everyone agrees that the key to success is communication.  You and your wife and her boyfriend and your girlfriend  have demonstrated the ability to communicate in a way that allows each of you to enjoy positive relationships both inside the marriage and out.

I wish you'd write a blog.

Respect to you and yours.


When the End Justifies The Means

Dear Moral Authority,

We sat in our regular pub and had a tall beer waiting to meet up with another couple for dinner.  The conversation shifted from the routine rundown on how our days had gone to the series of messages she had that day.  My wife explained that she had been contacted by a guy she dated briefly during our separation, twenty years ago.  Long story short, he wanted her to give things a try again and she just laughed him off, explaining to him that she had the best possible arrangement she could ask for.  She loves her husband, has no intention of ever leaving, and, she has her boyfriend and plans to continue that relationship as long as it makes sense.  Why would she give all that up for some guy she didn't really like twenty years ago?  She ended the conversation with this guy by suggesting he forget her and never contact her again.

When I was a kid, it was a standard kid ploy for convincing your parents to let you spend the night at a friend's house by having each kid go to his mom and say, "Jimmy's mom says it's okay with her if it is okay with you."

In a case like that, you helped motivate your mom to say yes since, in her mind, another adult had already made the approval.  Yes, it was a little white lie, but if your mom agreed, was there any real harm done?  Of course, maybe parents already knew that trick from when they were kids and it just didn't matter.  At least, I don;t recall my mom ever picking up the phone and making a call to establish the veracity of my claim.

As many of you know, about 18 months ago, I initiated a ploy with a buddy of my wife and mine, to arrange for a reconnection of sorts.  I'll spare you a long back story, but in a nutshell, a guy that we had engaged in threesomes with more than a few decades ago came back into our life.  The reasons the threesomes stopped in the first place was due to military moves.  Now, as fate would have it, our families live within a few miles of one another.  Opportunity.

I had joked with my wife about the possibility of rekindling the threesomes, but as with many women who hit middle age, she suffered from some body image related self-esteem issues. Her thought was, "He won't want to be with me."

She never ruled out the possibility of us resuming our threesome activities, and in fact, it was a constant topic of discussion as we would go down the list of acquaintances who I was turned on to imagine her fucking.

Step in my little instigating mind.  I reached out to our friend, JD, and explained to him how I truly was missing our fun times and how my wife just needed a nudge to get her back into the swing of things.   To be honest, he didn't quite understand my point of view or why I would willingly go along with this.  I tried to explain to him the concept of compersion, but ultimately, I just reminded him how much I would get off whenever we had our threesomes in the past.  I think that made the most sense to him, and he was eager to get started.

Before long, there were Facebook chats, text messages and even phone calls.  Initially, she asked me if I had put him up to contacting her.  I flat out lied and told her no.  She did ask one or two more times as his interest seemed to grow.  I was honest in telling her that he and I met for lunch and that we had e-mailed, and yes, I let her know that I told JD I was open to more threesomes.  But I never confessed to her that I had established first contact and suggested he try to sway her back into threesomes.

As an aside, this is a tactic I do not encourage others to follow.  I'm not going to try to list off reasons for why I chose to use this deceptive method, but I can tell you, I'm very happy with the outcome.  If that makes me an asshole, so be it.

Over a period of months, the conversations continued and what developed was a rekindled friendship.   We had stayed in touch with JD and his wife over the years, visited for cookouts or birthday parties, but we were never close, per se.  What my wife learned was that the marriage was a pure facade for the sake of their young child.  There had been no sexual contact at all in some time.  Talk of divorce was and is a constant theme, but remaining together for the child is the argument closer.  In short, this was not a guy trying to get some action on the side but rather a guy revealing intimate details and finding a shoulder to cry on.

It had been probably four or five months of conversations before we had the first renewed threesome.  During that night as JD was getting dressed, my wife asked, "Are you sure you guys didn't plan this?"

That was the moment we should have come clean.  Instead, JD said matter of factly, "No, not at all."

In truth, there is simply no reason we could not confess to our deception.  In this case, the ends truly did justify the means.  At this point, my wife is so happy with how the relationship is going.  I'm happy, she is happy, JD is happy.  But I won't confess now because there is simply no reason to.  My wife's doubts were about her appearance and nothing more.  I didn't pay some guy to pay her false compliments, I simply encouraged a guy who I knew was attracted to her in the first place, to let her know.

I guess my question is, am I so emotionally hollow that I can't see how wrong this is?

I often think about that commercial featuring Honest Abe Lincoln.  He is cornered by his wife, portrayed by a woman of size who turns around and asks, "Does this dress make my behind look big?" 

Poor Abe hmmms and haws and every husband in the world understands his dilemma.  Though for most of us, the answer is a resounding"No, honey, your ass does not look big at all."

My deception is wrong.  I accept that I'm not as honest as good ol' Abe, but really, given the outcome and given the happiness my wife has been experiencing for some time now, shouldn't I get a pass?

Hoping for clemency,


When Granny Gets Naked

Dear Someone Else's Sexy Granny,

I've looked at a wide variety of naked pictures on the Internet and I keep finding myself intrigued by a single topic of interest that I can't quite understand.  I'm hoping you can explain.

First, it isn't that my sole interest is in women of a certain age who end up posing nude, I like all sorts.  But for most every other genre of content I come across, I can come to an easy assumption as to why the subject of the picture chose to be photographed.

One of my favorites, for instance is selfies.  A guy or gal will take a picture of their nude body with an iPhone and now we all get to see it.  In probably most cases, the person who both took the picture and sent it never expected that we would all get to see it.  Truth is, they snapped the pic to send to a lover (or in the case of guys, some unfortunate female who made the mistake of reading a text message).

Others are people who just want to show off their body.  Hell, I've got a few pics of my own out there.

Is there the same thought process for a woman who is collecting retirement benefits to expose herself?  I'm not complaining at all, mind you.  As long as the old gal was not forced or blackmailed into getting naked and showing us her goodies, I'm all for it.  I confess, I have a thing for women with experience in mind and body.

 Oh sure, I want to bang thirty-something's too, but when I was much younger I experienced a woman who is my age now.  When I was twenty-five, I was banging a married fifty-two year old.  Truth is, she told me she was fifty-two but it was obvious she was  probably closer to seventy than fifty.

It was usually dark when she would get in my bed - she wanted the lights out - but I could see the gray in her pubic hair by moonlight.  I can't even explain why I was so fascinated by that aspect, but now when I see an attractive lady with gray hair, I always think of her pubic area.

This was all before the onset of digital cameras and phones that are like little movie studios.  I asked one time to take a Polaroid of her nude body and I thought she would cry at just the thought of it.  She had a very fit and firm body but she worried I would not want to see her in the light.  And she didn't want her husband to get proof.

I think about the older secretary in my office.  She is in her early sixties.  She is extremely thin but has these large saggy breasts that, when presented in the right blouse look very nice.  I'm such a horny goat I've even imagined sex with her.

But back to the topic at hand.  Ladies in your sixties and even seventies, are you still horny enough to pose nude for all the middle aged guys imagining their older neighbor or the high school English teacher with the big knockers?   I'm certainly not judging, because I'm a fan.  I just want to know what motivates you?



To The Man Next Door

Dear Neighbor,

I've lived here for close to two years and have tried to be as friendly as I can.  In spite of the fact that I will say hello or smile when I see you, you pretend that I do not exist.  There is no return of a smile, no nod of the head, nothing.  Through some quick Googling, I learned that you are Egyptian.  I've known people from Egypt and they all seemed nice to me, so I'm just assuming that you are shy, or simply an asshole.

So fast-forward to yesterday afternoon when you peered through your dining room window, over the height of my privacy fence and down into my hot tub to watch my nude wife giving me a blow job.  I know you were probably embarrassed when I told my wife we had an audience and she unattached her mouth from my cock and turned around to look, thereby exposing her big boobs.  She laughed when you quickly backed away from the window, but it was pretty obvious you saw that we saw that you saw us being naughty in our back yard.

I just want to say, I apologize that our yard is not completely private and that my wife is not as modest as your wife is.  Hell, if I were in your situation, I'd be as friendly as I could.  But that's just me.

Deepest apologies,

Your Neighbor, JFB.

Asking an Expert

Note:  I've made several attempts at writing letters to people like Dan Savage, Dr. Drew, Tristan Taormino and others in the past, but I always delete them.  This is a letter that I wrote over several days following a very emotional couple of weeks.  I won't bother sending this to Dr Ley, but if he stumbles upon it, I'd welcome his thoughts.

Dear Dr. Ley,

I would like to apologize in advance for the long-winded note that follows.  I know your time is valuable and to be honest, I don't expect a reply.  I do think though that what I'm going to tell you may be of interest to you for your next project, or for consideration in you practice.  Or perhaps, this is all normal stuff.

I first heard about you and your book, Insatiable Wives, on the Savage Lovecast.  Since buying your book, I think I've listened to you on at least a half dozen other podcasts including Chris RyanTristan Taormino, and others.  I feel like your message has been both consistent and informative, and most importantly, reassuring to me.

I'm a married bi man, 52, been married for 32 years and for a good portion of that marriage my wife and I have "played" with a few select others.  Our current situation is that she has a friends with benefits arrangement with a married guy we've known for over two decades. It is working out wonderfully, and is consistent with some of the more successful hotwife/cuckold couples you used as examples in Insatiable Wives. We are by all accounts an otherwise normal, successful married couple with two very well adjusted adult children.

There is no question that I was the one to introduce this concept into our marriage, and it was her who who finally gave in after a few years of fantasy talk and suggested we "just get it over with" the first time we had a threesome with a friend.  That first experience quickly led to a second and third.

I've often wondered if my desire for this arrangement was the result of being bisexual (I consider myself to be hetoro-normative/bi-sexual to borrow from Dan Savage) or if perhaps there was some deeper issue.  Was I abused as a child; was I secretly gay and this arrangement allowed me to offload some of the husbandly duties?  The Internet was only in its infancy when we started and at that time, I thought there were just a few men like me.  Later, sites like and others made me see there were couples all over the world engaged in this activity.  But reading your book and also Chris Ryan's Sex at Dawn has given me comfort that this kink is fairly common.

Of course, common or not, we are not wide open about our arrangement.  I am honest about being bi and if asked, I've never hidden the fact about our marriage and the extra player in the bed, but in truth, I've been very secretive otherwise.  The kids don't know, the neighbors don't know, etc.

Until recently I wrote a sex blog where I discussed these topics and just generally discussed sex and such, from my perspective.  During the course of my ten year blog/journal (I was not well known, had only just over 100 followers and probably got about 200 visits a day at, I often wrote very introspectively wondering about why I was the way I am.  Why did I crave sharing my wife?  Why did I crave sharing my secrets anonymously with other bloggers?  Why did I crave secretive arrangements purely to discuss sexual topics?

This last issue, the secrets, is what has caused me some recent issues.  In spite of our marriage arrangement, my blog and the majority of the people I communicated with were unknown to my wife.  I've been having an affair with the Internet.  I have also, for years, gained the trust of selected friends and co-workers with the sole purpose of gaining a confidante with whom I could share my intimate sexual details. My wife may know these people but she does not know the conversations we have.

I have always been thrilled to learn other people's secrets, but in looking back, I have always gotten more of a thrill when exposing my own sexual behaviors to them.  In fact, in almost all cases, the initial discussions where I reveal the first secret (a confession that I'm bi) is not only sexually arousing, there is an adrenaline rush that I get.

Looking back, I have exposed intimate details about my sexuality to dozens of people in person, and in spite of the fact that I've done this most often in the office environment; due to being very selective and deliberate with vetting people, I've never had any work related issues or blow back.  I know, I'm not the poster boy for the HR department, but the truth is, everyone I've shared my secrets with has in turn revealed intimate sexual details about themselves.  Who knew so many people were perverts?  Well, probably you did.

Back to the problem about secrets. It isn't that I was discovered by my wife.  Instead, a lifelong friend, a much younger married woman who I began emailing after a few revealing chat sessions on Facebook, suddenly became convinced that my secretive behavior is the result of my having been sexually abused as a child, something I have no memory of, though admittedly have wondered about.

During our conversations, we did bring up the fact that I had these unanswered questions that I kept trying to explore in my mind.  I explained that there were only a few stand-out moments that seemed to fit any scenario that perhaps I was molested.  One scenario involved my father that seems unlikely to have been an issue.  Camping with the family, my father took me to the public restrooms for a shower.  I remember seeing him nude and that was fascinating, but no negative memory.  Another possibility, an older neighbor invited me into his garage where he gave me candy.  Sounds sketchy for sure, but I don't have any further memory.  Both of these memories are from probably age three.  I started playing "doctor" and show and tell games with other kids my age probably around kindergarten.

For me, my only questions surrounding potential childhood abuse was not that I feel broken or have some history of wanting to in-turn abuse others, but that I was so very interested in exploring sexual things as a child, and I keep reading that the only way a child at that age (think under five or six) shows such an interest is if that was learned behavior.  Dr. Drew Pinsky is adamant, it seems, whenever a caller to one of his shows describes these behaviors in a child, the only answer is that the child was either abused or witnessed this behavior and is now repeating it.

I did have a situation I do recall vividly and that was of a neighbor, an older boy of about sixteen or seventeen and his brother of thirteen or so, when I was about ten.  Without question, these boys were grooming me for something.  There were the secrets, the dares and the escalation of reasons to remain secret about the things we talked about and did.

They showed me a magazine of their fathers that contained child porn.  Of course, to a 10 year old boy, I was fascinated but to be clear, I was never exposed to such material again, nor did I seek it.  Later I witnessed the older boy semi-fondle a very young girl by tricking her into exposing her privates.  His methodology was to point at the leg of her little shorts and with his finger, lift the shorts to expose her vagina while asking her the question, "What color are your shorts?" 

From a distance, it could appear innocent that he was pulling the material to show her the color he was asking about, but even to a ten year-old, I knew this was him exposing her.  I know for certain because he made eye contact with me before doing the trick again.  At that age I was definitely aware that was wrong and I basically backed myself away from the friendship.  I didn't say anything to her parents, but I avoided further contact with both brothers,  This was all in a military housing area where we lived in town home-like buildings, so it was difficult to avoid them, but thankfully, their father was transferred soon after. and they moved away.

My friend has recently said that the way I learned this grooming behavior from these older boys is exactly how I meet potential new secret friends, or connect with people I know to escalate our conversations from vanilla to sexual.  I lead with a secret, gain some trust, learn a secret, gain more trust then seal the deal.  But the deal is, talking about sex.  That's it.  Not having sex, not asking for money like blackmail or anything, just a mutual sharing of our own experiences.

When you meet people via the Internet, you have a good idea of their interests based upon where you meet them.  A forum like OurHotWives or some sex blog gives you a fair indication that you can share a conversation about sex, and the person you engage will be interested and likely share.  For me, starting a conversation about sex with someone I only know from work or as a casual acquaintance requires a little bit of tiptoeing up to the line and backing off if there is no interest. My friend has translated this behavior which many others call normal adult testing of the waters, so to speak, more like the behavior of someone who is genuinely doing bad things.

I must tell you that when we had the conversation where she laid this all out, I was both surprised, but also relived.  Relieved to have someone tell me that my behavior was proof that I had been molested or assaulted as a child, thus explaining my lifelong sexual behaviors.  Lest you think I'm ashamed of my behavior, I'm not.  I don't see anything wrong with the relationship my wife and I have, nor do I think my interest in talking about sex is just a horrible thing.  But I was relived that I could at least point, in a way to some reasons.

I think I've always been open to receiving feedback about myself.  That is to say, constructive criticism, down right accusations of being a jerk, or just helpful hints have been something I welcome and quickly attempt to evaluate and act upon in a positive way.  That said, when I was told that my behavior was bad and it was because I was behaving in a way that I had been taught, the result of childhood trauma, I took it very seriously and immediately went into self evaluation mode.

For the first several days and probably a week or so, I think I was in shock.  I had always wondered if I was a victim of some abuse.  How else do you explain the early promiscuity?  More importantly, I immediately began to evaluate each relationship I had been involved in.  I divided friends and colleagues into two categories: secrets and no secrets.

I quickly recognized that the no secrets people were those that I have conversations with involving little or no honesty about anything personal.  The secrets people were those I could share the most private details with.   In my mind, I was imagining this as some evil plot.

But wait a second.  Isn't that kind of normal?

Are there people who are so open with everyone that regardless of the level of trust, they will share any detail?  I have some colleagues who are extremely religious.  I don't hold that against them but I'm not going to walk up and describe the last blow job a gave.

When I did reach out to trusted friends to ask advice, to a person I was told I was over thinking things, I wasn't a monster, and that all adults vet their friends for levels of intimacy and trust.

Don't they?

I'm not shying away from the fact that I may have been abused in some way. I don't deny that my personality was impacted by the experience I had as a ten year old.  I just don't think that I'm the horrible person I felt I was being made out to be.

I do acknowledge that I've played some people as a way of gaining  trust.  I agree that this is a shitty thing to do, though pragmatically, if the intent is not to harm but rather to become friends, how is this any different than the mating rituals men and women go through everyday?

Women routinely wear sexy clothes and spend an hour putting on makeup to be attractive.  Guys will refrain from burping, farting and cussing; they open doors and buy flowers.  They avoid telling about their failings and exaggerate their status in hopes of landing the right girl.  We mask who we really are in hopes of gaining favor of the person we are attracted to.  Is this not deceptive? Isn't it accepted as the norm?

I hate that over the last several weeks I've felt like I keep defending myself not only to people who will listen to me, but to myself.  Like I'm trying to convince myself I'm not inherently a bad person.

To be sure, I have some things I need to work on.  The biggest and clearest wrong thing I've done is that as a sex blogger, I've written about my wife and others without their knowledge.  My only defense is, I use fake names and obfuscate personal details that would reveal our identities.  Welcome to the Internet.   But I guess to wrap this all up, the question, Dr Ley, am I a horrible person because I like to talk about sex?  Am I a jerk for trying to first determine if I can trust a person before I divulge some of the specifics of my own sex life?  As a guy in his early fifties, should I be concerned that, if I was the victim of some yet to be identified child abuse, I need to re-gear my entire personality to course correct?

I'd appreciate your views.



These Are Letters to Me

I have blogged for years.  When I stopped not long ago I decided it was time for a different approach.  I have always been one of those people who attempts to work out frustrations by writing letters or e-mails with no real intention of ever sending them.  It is a simple thing to do and I highly encourage it.  You simply write as if you were sending a sternly worded letter to that neighbor you are mad at, that boss you are upset with, the girl you wish would like you.  Then, you spend some time editing it, then you delete it and move on.

Here, I'll be posting some of those half-baked letters that I've never intended to send. You are welcome to respond in comments, or send me an e-mail if you like.

This blog definitely contains adult content. Please don't read my letters if you are under the age of legal consent, whatever that may be for the place you live.

Thursday, May 4, 2017

Warmest Regards...

The Internet Therapist had figured this out; I'm certain of that.  I think he was just waiting for me to figure it out for myself.  I suppose in frustration, he just had to give up.

Recently, an old friend popped back onto my radar.  It only took her a few weeks to put the puzzle together and about fifteen or twenty minutes for her to make me see what has been staring me in the face for years.

I've danced around it on this blog for years.  Hidden between the lines of sex and adventure, there has been a very dark truth trying to reveal itself to me.

I hate when people write something expecting readers to magically know what the fuck they are talking about.  Unfortunately, I'll have to do that to you.

This has nothing to do with my wife or our lifestyle or my coworkers or my friends, though certainly all have been impacted by me, my personality, and the methods I've used to shape relationships.

It took long enough, that's for sure.  This blog has accomplished what I set out to do ten years ago.  I know he no longer follows, but I do think The Internet Therapist would be relieved that the light came on for me.  He might be less thrilled that it was Emma who got through to me.

I'll still be around, but I'm afraid to say, this is the last post.  Thank you to those of you who stuck with me all these years.  I appreciate each of you, more than you can know.