Friday, April 28, 2017


When I was sixteen I worked at a McDonald's. One of the managers was probably only a few years older than me, but she was an actual woman - at least from my perspective.

This was thirty-five years ago so you have to think back to those polyester uniforms the managers would wear.  Her's was very form fitting and I looked at her ass as often as I could get away with it.  I wasn't even interested in trying an older woman at that point - that was off my bucket list the first time a fucked a woman.  In fact, I was interest in several other coworkers my own age.  But there was something intriguing about her that kept me constantly thinking about her as I flipped burgers and mopped floors.  She had this scent.

You know that musky scent that you can't determine if it is a perfume purposely dabbed on or perhaps body odor caused by the excessive sweating of a young woman.  I know exactly what I was convinced it was though, and that was the scent of her femininity.   I was sixteen and I had yet to bury my face in a girl's pussy, but this overwhelming scent drove me nuts and made me crave the first taste of a wet vagina.

Fast forward to today.  I came home from work and we had a young friend over.  She is a college student, just twenty-one and still at that gawky age. Oh, she's cute and all but I guess because I'm so much older, I don't assign the nomenclature of "woman" to her.  I'm sure that is a violation of some feminist creed or something, but I think you get the point.

But today, as she sat next to my wife on the couch in running shorts, her long legs bent at the knees and bare feet on the couch, the bottom of her ass slightly exposed, I was hit with that scent.

Jesus.  I've seen this young lady so many times before and hadn't really seen or smelled her in "that" way.

She stayed over for another hour or so but I busied myself with other things in other rooms.  But each time I wandered in the vicinity of my wife and of this young lady, it took me right back to McDonald's and that manager.  I did what all normal men do.  I got on Facebook and looked up and found that old manager.  The years have not been kind to her.

Amazing what a simple musky smell can do to your afternoon.

Wednesday, April 26, 2017

IGHIH: Toys!

There was an inkling that we might have a visitor Tuesday afternoon.  I actually moved some meetings to allow an early departure form work in hopes of being home soon enough to catch the play.  The last few times, through no fault of theirs, my wife and JD were either finishing up or he was gone by the time I made it home.  I wanted to be sure to get in on the action.  Sure enough, the stars aligned and when I pulled onto my street JD's truck was parked across from the house.

I'm one of those people who normally enters the house through the garage, but this time I decided I would quietly enter through the front door. The noise from the garage door opening then closing is quite a warning to anyone engaged in hanky-panky, and frankly, I wanted to play voyeur. Sure enough as I crept into the kitchen, I could see movement in the bedroom,  There was a trail of discarded clothes on the floor, though JD's slacks were neatly folded over the back of a bar stool and his tie was gently dropped on the counter.  But there were other clothes and shoes and socks about.
I peered into the room to see my nude wife leaning over JD giving him head.  In the room, I could see the briefcase of toys open and a large vibrator laying at the foot of the bed.  There was giggling and playful conversation, but nothing I could really make out.  In spite of the fact that I was literally twenty feet away, the music playing in the living room created a sound buffer. I would peek in for a look, then slip back into the kitchen.  This played out for a few minutes.
At one point they moved positions again.  JD moved over the top of her and stuck his fat dick into her pussy.  Yes!  I think allowing them the privacy was what he needed to get his erection going.  For those who haven't followed, there have been some E.D. issues.  My wife is fine now that she realizes it isn't her.  And frankly, she uses his other talents to her benefit.  Unfortunately, the entry was short lived and she laughed and announced that he was slipping out.  She quickly began stroking him and telling him it was fine.

And as someone who is getting old myself, it was my creaky knees that gave away my presence.  Not even surprised, my wife just asked me to come in and join them.  I walked into the room in just my underwear and socks then quickly made an exit to grab a cold beer.  Honestly, I just wanted them to have a little more time before I joined in.

My plan worked.  I came into the room just as JD was unloading a huge load on her tits.  I regret not getting a picture of the mess.

I should back up and point out that a week or so ago, JD sent a picture of his hand covered in his own seed - the result of a sexting session my wife got him through.  She showed me how white his cum was as compared to mine.  I attribute my more watery looking spunk to be associated with the fact I had a vasectomy twenty something years ago.  I'm no doctor, but it sounds legit.

Anyway, back to this afternoon, his white mess was covering my wife's tits and as he politely moved away to get a towel for her, I climbed aboard and totally consumed the entire load.  I could leave the description there, but specifically for the troll I'll add from a note I sent to a friend: "I kept thinking to myself for the rest of the night how I simply love the taste, texture and just the act of consuming another mans cum.  Can't seem to swallow my own but God, I just enjoy the act of it with another guy."  I sucked in the delicious mess and tried to avoid getting it on my beard and mustache, but as it turned out, JD just handed me the towel, because I was a dripping mess.  The man must have been storing it for a week.

The fun wasn't over yet. There was a lot giggling and playful chat and my wife pointed to a bag on the dresser from a local adult store that was voted the best in San Antonio recently.  My wife apparently spent over an hour in the place and one of the items she purchases was a beginners kit for pegging.  JD has been talking it up, suggesting that it would be a turn on for him to watch my wife use a strap-on on me.  I play it off and suggest that he really wants it as an excuse for her to use it on him.  The atmosphere is playful and fun, and my wife immediately begins putting the equipment on.

In moments, the little rubber dong is attached, lube is slathered on and I hand JD my phone asking him to snap some shots.  Problem number one:  My wife is too short and I'm forced to scoot my ass down low enough for her to reach.  Problem two:  The beginner plug is really meant for someone who has never had as much as a finger up their ass.  With lube, this isn't even a teaser.
With this type of harness, my wife is able to attach one of the other dildos found in her briefcase of sex toys, and now we are in business.  More lube please!

In the end, ahem, we played for just a few minutes because I think my wife needs to get the hang of it, but also, we were up against the clock.  Suffice it to say, the dong went in, though maybe only half way or so, and we all found the strap-on to be something worth exploring more.  When I pushed myself up from the edge of the bed, I pointed and told JD - "You're turn!"

Instead, he jumped in the shower and watched as I took my wife from behind.  He yelled out, "This is a first for me.  I've never taken a shower while watching other people have sex."

In the few minutes it took for him to shower and for me to unload, I asked my wife if I missed anything.  She told me that before I got there, he had gone down on her to the tune of four huge orgasms.  I asked about him slipping his dick in her.  She said he made it about as far in as the dildo made it up my ass, but started to go soft almost immediately.
Once I had cum, my wife slipped into the shower while JD was drying off.  I snapped a picture of our sink full of toys and again marveled at how casual all of this had become for the three of us.

Thursday, April 20, 2017

Waiting Room Volume

Here's a question for you.  How personal does a conversation have to be before you tone it down in front of other people?  Using the scenario of being in a waiting room where a TV is playing HGTV, people are checking thier Facebook pages or texting people on thier phones, what is your likelihood of having a conversation at normal conversational volume, regardless of what it is?  Clearly, I'm painting a specific picture of a particular thing, but before you read any further into my scenario, maybe you could take a second and just settle it in your own mind.

For me, I tend to adjust my volume based upon my surroundings.  If I'm in a room full of people watching a sporting event and the conversation is about the huge play that was just made, I'm certainly going to speak loud enough that anyone else in that room could respond or make a comment to add to the conversation.  You invite participation that way.  But in that same room of sports fans, I'm not going to enthusiastically announce that I just shit my pants and need to make an emergency exit.

So here is what happened: My wife and I were sitting in a reasonably crowded waiting room when she chuckled.  I looked up from my own phone and she said in a conversational volume, that she got a funny message from JD.

I looked at her thinking to myself that she would lower her voice but no, she casually explained that he wanted to get an RV, outfit it with cameras and then have me drive around while the two of them have sex in the back.  I could watch them on the camera.

She laughed again and I just looked at her and asked  in a hushed tone if she thought everyone in the waiting room should know.  She just shrugged her shoulders and said, "Oh, they don't care."

I of course surveyed the nearest people to us. The lady sitting about five feet from us never looked up from her phone but I'm sure she gave a slight chuckle under her breath.

I guess it's true.  Most people these days are not nearly as voyeuristically observant as I am; I pick up on conversations all the time.  Perhaps this is why I tend to quiet down when talking about finances and fucking.

I think the more interesting thing is how casual this has become in our life.  I would have never thought she would be so open and frankly, honest about what is going on.  I know early in our years of this stuff, she would pretend that we had not allowed another man in our bed.  Just flat out deny it to herself.  Now, it's normal.

I presented this scenario to one of my co-workers yesterday, a guy familiar with our situation.  He went off for ten minutes about how his wife does the same exact thing (not drive around in an RV fucking, but talk loud).  He said the worst is when he will quietly make note of a person, describing the clothes or body features and his wife will just respond by pointing and loudly say, "You mean that lady with the ugly sweater?" or some such.

His conclusion: All women are stupid.

Okay, I'm not sure I'm going to take that as fact, but people, is this a guy thing?

Monday, April 17, 2017

Creeper Guilt

I should be ashamed of myself but to be honest, I've just accepted that this is who I am.  I'm the guy who as innocently as possible gawks at a coworker's wife while he is being promoted.

If you go back to New Years Eve, my wife and I were at a great party at Co-worker A's condo overlooking our beautiful downtown.  This young LT and his smoking hot wife were there and even then, I found it difficult not to sneak an occasional peek at her.

As the drinks flowed, she began saying and doing things that seemed to show this chick was only getting started.  In fact, she made another guys wife uncomfortable by repeatedly trying to make out with her.  The lady told the LT, "Uh could you please ask your drunk wife to stop tongue fucking my mouth?"

That was funny.

The other thing was, she confided in the hostess who confided in my wife that, the LT's dick is so big she is in pain every time they fuck.

My dick is fairly average in size.  I'd be happy to fill in.

So on Friday, we held a promotion ceremony for the young LT and his wife was seated next to me.  I loved the looks she gave her husband at times during the ceremony.  I pretended to be looking into the audience but I was looking at her and at him.

These kids seem to still be in love.  If only he was into having a guy old enough to be their father, give her a good licking and fucking.

When it was over, I walked back to the office with Co-Worker H.   We both could not stop talking about this wife.  Of course, Co-Worker H has been mentioned a few times recently so I should just come right and say it. In a weird chain of events, H has now become my direct boss.  And we are sucking each other as often as we can do so without raising suspicion.  It is not uncommon for doors to be shut during conversations about personnel matters, so nobody bats an eyelash, but still.

Mostly, H is blowing me. He loves my dick and my cum.  I love his huge dick too, but I've never tasted his cum. With us older guys, these things happen.  You get older, your dick doesn't work as well as it did when you were younger.  It is a nice treat to try to get him fully erect though.

I totally get H's constant horniness in spite of his malfunctioning dick.  It is a mental thing where you see every situation as potentially sexual, yet you have enough self-control to not just whip out your dick and jack-off.  It is a form of mental masturbation I suppose.  We were sitting in a meeting and he he lightly kicked my leg to get my attention.  I used his eyes to motion toward the female co-worker seated two seats away from me.  Her side view accentuated her huge, firm breasts, tightly covered by a clingy blouse.  I looked back at him and he made just the slightest expression involving licking his lips.  I let out a silent giggle only to notice another colleague of ours witness the exchange.  Busted.

This is the sort of thing that keeps HR departments in business. Old guys getting all gawky at the younger women in the work place.  Just reading it sounds bad, but in reality, this is not Mad Men on steroids, in fact, aside from that little miscue, the comments and creepy looks are very much done in private.

I just question whether or not (and I apologize, I feel like I've posed this same question over and over for years now) I'm extra special creepy.  I feel like I am in a constant state of horndoggedness when I'm out in public.  The hostess at the place we go to for Friday night Margaritas and beer always seems to seat us in a place that allows me to stare at her.  She is young (too young to even consider) but she has this beautiful face and eyes.  We make eye contact multiple times during the visit.  She is not flirting with me, I think she is just trying to be nice.

I see a lady in my neighborhood when I'm checking my mail.  She lives in the house near the mailbox cluster and seems to always be outside with her kids or working in her yard.  She is blonde, wears outfits that seem appropriate for a golf course, always fashionable and conservative.  I've made up all these stories in my mind that she must be foreign.  Sure enough, my wife and I stop at a garage sale and she is there, chatting with the lady hosting the sale.  I was right.  Her accent is German.  Suddenly I'm eager for her to do something German to me.  I don't know what that means but it feels like it would be dirty and hot.

You already know about me and the grocery store.  The experience every time is like a fat kid in a candy store.  I want a sample of nearly everything there.  Young mommies in yoga pants; college girls with their ass cheeks exposed. My wife makes good cover since, surely, no husband would be checking out women in every aisle with his wife present.

My next door neighbors have both of their adult children living with them.  The daughter is a college graduate and works, the son may still be in college.  I've been attracted to the mother in this family from the day we moved in.  She is from South America and works as a designer.  She could be a model.  She and the daughter always wave hello when they are headed to the gym and I'm outside.  They both wear those workout style yoga pants and I avoid staring.  I've always been so attracted to the the mother that I've barely given the daughter a second look.  But then the other day, I was outside when the daughter came home from a water park. She was wearing shorts that allowed her ass cheeks to hang out and suddenly, I found an interest in her.  I still like the mother better, but damn.

My entire neighborhood is fill with mostly attractive people.  They are active, they walk their dogs, they walk with kids on bicycles, and they jog.  I noticed some older guys, guys my age will sit out front in their lawn chairs in the evening.  Are they just creepers like me?  Probably.  One guy who is a police officer sits outside and smokes a big fat cigar.  I can just see him telling his wife he is going to be nice and smoke his cigar outside.  But why not on the back porch?  Nah, better do it out front where the people are.

I guess this is what I've become.  One of those old guys who gawks at women.  

Thursday, April 6, 2017

IGHIH and Other Observations...

I had this weird revelation as I was listening to the Tangentially Speaking podcast.  Chris Ryan, the guy who wrote Sex at Dawn, was interviewing Jenny Nordbak who has a book out about her work in a sex dungeon.  That alone is a fascinating conversation but what got me was a statement Dr. Ryan made regarding his first MFM threesome experience.  It had to do with how prior to this encounter, he had only seen the idea of sex parties, orgies, BDSM and threesomes as some sort of porn movie or what he got from porn.  In the actual moment while his friends were going at it and he was sort of sitting there watching the action, he realized it was more about trust and love and the confidence you have in the people you are sharing the moment with.

I've written in the past about the sexual details of our encounters with JD and other men, but the reality is, there is a lot of friendship and trust in those moments.  That isn't the sexy stuff you want to read in a sex blog, but any of you who have experienced a scene involving more than just your regular partner probably are tracking my point.  Yes of course, there are purely sexual encounters where it is just about getting off and being done.  But when you get into a routine where there is no longer that anticipation of will we fuck or won't we, it becomes more fun and about the relationship.

You'd be shocked at how much we talk about Mrs. JD for instance, or how much we discuss the mechanics of what we are doing.

There is something else I've learned about myself and that is I may have that Madonna/Whore complex thing going on with my wife (or maybe I'm a normal husband who has been married for over thirty years). I realized this with watching my wife interact with JD during blow jobs.

I'm the kind of guy who will sit back and just enjoy the feeling of being blown (take this last Tuesday at work when Co-worker H blew me in his office). I let the person doing the blowing do the work.  Turns out, when I suck a dick, that's what I want.  I want to control the dick, do everything involved in making that dick produce the outcome that works for both the giver and receiver.  Win, win.

I'm watching my wife as she playfully fondles JD's girth, licks his head and strokes his shaft.  She takes him and it is clear from her eyes and the look of pleasure on her face that she is enjoying the performance of it all.  But then it changes.

At some point, JD begins this process of taking responsibility for his own BJ.  The first time I witnessed this, I thought about intervening.  The idea of him grabbing her head and forcibly fucking her face; for me it has an almost misogynistic feel to it.  I'm at once shocked that I can stand to watch it, but relieved that my wife seems to enjoy it.

I've written in the past that one of my wife's cravings has been rough sex.  She wants to be used, be handled in a rough way, pressed against a wall and taken.  I can't do it and I just can't seem to make myself do it.

When the blow job is over and JD is sweaty and my wife is wiping cum from her cheek, they laugh about what has just taken place.  There is no misogyny, no pain or anger.

I fear that I have allowed my distaste for a lot of the porn that other people seem to like to taint my view of this sort of sex.  I despise the look of anger on the male performers faces as they fuck the moan, no, howling actress. Why are we all so angry? You are fucking.  Why do you hate the woman you are getting a blow job from?  If I could change one thing about all of porn - quit being so angry over sex.

Yet I talk to women who enjoy giving head and in fact enjoy the art of gagging to the point of tears.  If I had a dick big enough to make someone gag so much they puked, I'd be more likely to hold them and apologize rather than cum from pleasure.  Call me a fucking pussy if you will. Call me gay if you are the troll, but I just have this distaste for men appearing to harm women.  And yet, my wife is nothing but smiles after JD has rammed his thick cock in and out of her face, holding her head against the mattress and using her like a human flesh light.

What this relationship gives us is something I need and something my wife needs.  I will never be able to explain the pleasure I get from my wife engaging in sex with other men, but it isn't an itch that can be scratched with fantasy or simply watching someone else do it on the Internet.  That works initially but once you've experienced it, you must have the real thing.

My wife enjoys the occasional sex that this arrangement has brought her.  She is really okay with me sitting back and watching, with me leaving the room or with me being in her pussy while she sucks his cock.  But she also appreciates the friendship. People need friends who are not their spouse, and in this case, she knows I will not question the conversations they have drifting from landscaping the yard or dinner to pussy eating and cock sucking.

JD of course gets the stray he needs to maintain the marriage he has with Mrs JD and someone he can vent to.

I fill that role for some of you readers.  You tell me about your husbands or wives and I offer advice or just a different point of view.  We all benefit.

By the way.  Skipping back to the top of this post and the podcast I was listening to.  I wasn't specifically listening because of the topic, a BDSM dungeon, that just happened to be the guest.  I just can't see myself engaging the services of one of these places either as a Dom or a sub, but I have to admit, the more I learn about the process, the more I am interested in the communication involved.
We vanilla people only have the view we've see from TV and stereotypes and, what I'm told is an amateur image given in Fifty Shades, but the truth, I'm learning, has a lot more to do with planning what will happen, working out limits, safe words, who will be doing what, and what the whole point of the session (or scene as they call it) is.  I wish this sort of communication had taken place when I lost my virginity at age fifteen.

I find humor in those short clips you see of this leather bound Dominatrix sneering at the man wearing the gimp mask and kicking him squarely in the balls.  The idea that a man would subject himself to that is both weird and funny to me.  Yet, I'm a guy who will gladly lick another mans seed from my wife pussy.

We are an interesting species.  What turns each of us on is inside our brains and it is going to get out one way or another.  You can stuff down that desire to stick a finger up your butt, but eventually, the soapy finger in a shower will win.  I ran from my bi desires for so long and eventually, when the penis entered my mouth for the first time (thanks, Pancho) I knew I could not live with MF sex alone.

These people who make it to the sex dungeon and enlist the services of Doms or subs have something that they need and they can't push it down forever.  Kudos to them.

That was quite a tangent filled post.  I'd appreciate your thoughts either in the comments or via the ol' e-mail.