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Monday, June 27, 2022

Hot Saturday Night!

 It has been a while, that's for sure.  Between a series of family visitors, schedule conflicts and other normal things, it has been well over a month or so since my wife was able to enjoy a visit from our friend, JD.  But the stars all aligned and this past Saturday evening, he was free to meet us for a nice evening that including drinks at our local pub followed by some relaxing hot tub time, and then, an incredible session of sex where I both played the voyeuristic husband, and participant in the action.

I do want to talk briefly about my desire to watch.  If you read a lot of my posts in the past (many since deleted), I've talked about medical things and such.  At the urging of a reader here, I finally wen't to one of the those bloodwork places and paid the $68 to get a LowT test.  Sure enough, my levels were significantly lower than normal for my age.  At this point, I'm waiting to hear back from my regular doctor to see what is next.  

I think the way it has impacted me is, while I have a great interest in sexuality, for me it is more of an interest like perhaps you might have in certain hobbies.  Think of a guy with a great interest in vintage muscle cars.  You sure want to see what is under the hood of that '68 Camaro,  but you no longer have the idea to reach in, pull out the alternator or change the plugs.  For me, that is the same reason why I really enjoy reading the blogs, listening to podcasts and, watching another guy fuck my wife.  

I do get boners, the key thing is, I just don't have that same drive I had before.  Sure, I'd like to be one of those horny guys who can't keep their hands off grandma, but for right now, I'm happy to be the horny guy who sits back and watches.

So back to the story.  On Saturday, we had drinks, caught up on life and such, then headed back to the house, just a mile down the road.  Once there, I pulled our little utility vehicle out of the garage and we took a ride to the back of the property where I had left a prepared fire barrel ready to go.  For those of you who don't live out in the country, it is pretty common to burn all your paper and cardboard products since the local garbage folks don't do recycling.  It's an excuse to make a fire, is what I'm really saying.

I had this idea that we'd sit out far away from where anyone could see, and perhaps someone would get the urge for getting naked out there.  But between the fact that it was still in the 90's even long after the sun had gone down, that wasn't happening.  We let the fire burn down to a safe level in the barrel and headed back to the house.  My wife opened up the tub, and she decided she wanted to take a shower on the out door deck.  She stripped and got the dust and sweat off her and motioned for JD to join her.  As I ran into the house to grab towels, he followed her into the shower.  I returned, completely nude.  You have to understand, our back patio is very private.  As I was explaining to a friend, the neighbors on one side would have to make a big effort to look onto our patio.  Granted, if they happen to be out in their yard peering toward my enclosed shower, and looking through the slats, yes, they could see.  But not at night.

Our tub is set on the lower heating level for the summer, but even then, the temperature was around 93 degrees.  That is cool enough to keep you from sweating, but warm enough that you won't feel cold if a breeze comes through.  We all climbed in, and probably spent close to an hour just continuing our conversations about kids, work, normal things naked people talk about while sitting in a hot tub.  

Eventually, my wife made that look she makes when she is ready for the real party to start.  I got out of the tub first and went into the bedroom and put on some music, set my phone on the lounge that sits in the corner of the room.  This is my preferred seating for the show that was about to begin.  

In a moment, the two of them walked in, but still nude by now dried off.  JD laid down on the bed and looked over at me and smiled.  It is funny how we have this way of communicating with facial expressions and winks and such.  I know there are some couples where the third guy is supposed to be the husband's rival or some form of bad guy.  But in our case, we both know what we are getting from this arrangement.  No animosity, no rivalry, none of that.  We are both getting pleasure and we are both happy about it.  I love that JD has the thicker cock, and I love that my wife craves his tongue on her pussy.  If he didn't have those two attributes, I don't think he would have lasted this long.

When my wife looked at JD smiling at me, she said, "I'm going to need you down here."  She laid back and JD took his position with his knees on the carpet and his head between her legs.  

For the next 20 minutes or so, he gave her several loud orgasms.  The man works magic on her pussy.  During the course of this play, he got up and grabbed a package he had brought with him.  In addition to the bottle of wine and box of chocolates, he had a new vibrator that is to be inserted in the vaginal, but then also vibrates outside on the pubic area.  It is quite fancy.  With this device going, yet another orgasm came quickly.  

My wife proposed a sixty-nine position with one of her trusty vibrators inserted.  The new one was placed in the bathroom sink while the next toy was retrieved.  My wife asked me if I had a good view and I nodded with with a smile.

As JD continued the assault of her pussy with both his tongue and the vibrator, my wife had lost herself on his thick cock, though based on the loud moans coming from her mouth, I'm not sure how good of a BJ he was receiving.

At one point my wife reached back quickly and batted JD away from her pussy.  She screamed out their playful safe word and they both laughed.  

You should be aware that, during this time, as I sat back and watched, I slowly stroked my cock, occasionally pulled on my balls and enjoyed the show.  There were occasional comments back and forth.  My wife was doing her best to make sure that I was comfortable, that I could see what I wanted to see and that I wasn't losing interest.  You have to keep in mind that, primarily due to timing, I had not actually watched these two in action in quite a while.  Either, I'd pull into my driveway after work, and JD would have just left the house, or I'd walk in and they were already finished with sex and were having a beer after the fact.  So in a way, it was like re-learning how we all do this together.  I promise you, it is like riding a bike.

I had gotten up to go grab some beers from the refrigerator.  Granted, by this point, I was the only one having an occasional sip.  When I returned, JD was on his knees and elbows.  and my wife was about half-way through the process of inserting a vibrating anal plug.  This is one made for men that is shaped similar to a long finger.  It is aimed at massaging the prostate.  Ever since JD got over the embarrassment of me knowing that he enjoys anal play, he simply shrugs it off when I see her inserting it in him.  I wish more men realized the pleasure one can have in anal play.  There is nothing "gay" about receiving pleasure from a woman and her toy.

Once the device was suitably installed, JD rolled over on his back and my wife looked up at me and said, "Get up old man.  I need you in me."

She stood at the edge of the bed with JD's legs on either side of her's.  She then grabbed his cock and stuck her ass out at me.  "Watch this!" She said.

I stood behind her and after a moment of adjusting my legs to match her height, I entered her pussy from behind.  Looking over her shoulder, I watched the show she made of sucking JD's cock.  She kept turning her head to the side so I had a clear view of the work she was doing on him.  He and I made that eye contact we do, when we both know how fantastic this arraignment is.  In sort of a "No homo" way, I pulled on his legs as leverage as I slid in and out of her pussy.  I imagined what it must be like to have the anal toy inserted while getting a playful blow job. 

Meanwhile, as I pounded my wife's pussy, her ass pushed against my thighs with each thrust.  I said, "Talk nasty."

She turned her head and said, "That's kind tough with JD's dick in my mouth."

I laughed and said, "No, JD talk dirty."

That was all it took. For the next several minutes, JD gave me exactly what I wanted.  Please understand, this isn't about humiliation, though I absolutely do get off on either he or my wife pointing out the obvious: "You love my thick cock, don't you?"  "It's so much thicker than his" "You've missed my big cock, haven't you?"

The real turn on is, these things are all true.  We all know it, there is no debate about it, and none of us are unhappy or embarrassed by it. But I still find it such a turn on to hear it, whether in the remarks he makes or when she says it to me.  She will say things like, "He is so much bigger than you." "I love how he fills my pussy."

I know so many men are different when it comes to this stuff. Some husbands have to be there for every second of the encounter.  No kissing, no going to his house alone, no this or no that.  Some men want total humiliation, they want to be in a cock cage, forced to sit in the corner and watch.  Some husbands have that need to be called a sissy.  I just don't fit into those categories, but I realize there are guys who read my situation and just shutter.  We all have our own little mental imagery of what HotWife or Cuckold arrangement works best for them.  

At some point, I mentally found myself wanting to simply unload in my wife.  I asked JD, "If I cum in her pussy, will you clean her out?"

I've been eating her pussy after JD unloads in her for years, but we've never reversed the role.  He smiled and said, "I might."  He followed that with, "You know, I go down on her after I cum in her quite a bit when you aren't here."

That statement should have made me cum.  That combined with my wife just bucking her backside into my dick.  Enter my Low T and whatever other issues and I finally stopped and said, "I don't think it is going to happen.  But this is fun."

I backed away and felt my thighs turn into spaghetti.  I think I need to do some squats!

My wife moved to a small rocker that is placed in front of the lounge I was on and had JD get up from the bed.  She positioned them to be right in front of me as she continued the blow job.  I could see JD doing every mental trick he could to just spray cum all over my wife's face and tits, but I also realized we had ben going at this for several hours.  It was close to 2AM.  We had climbed in the hot tub around 10 PM.

Before long, he knew he was not going to cum either.  Beer kills, people.  

As they moved back to the bed, JD popped out the anal toy and we had a laugh about the sound effects made the very first time my wife used a large dildoe on me.  We all laughed reliving that moment in a hotel room when I had been bent over as my wife rammed in and out with that huge thing.  When I couldn't take it any more, she pulled it out and it made this popping sound as if a champagne cork had popped.  Good times.

When it was all over, My wife and JD stayed lying on the bed and we all talked for probably another 30 to 45 minutes.  Eventually, toys were cleaned, showers were had beer cans were disposed of.  My wife reports a total of at least five orgasms on the night, maybe more.  Neither JD nor I had exploded, though we all agreed that we had a satisfying night.  

Yea, it was hot.  It was a hot Saturday night, and a hotter Sunday morning.

Wednesday, June 1, 2022

That Time My Buddy's Nana Spanked Him!

 So a strange thing happened the other day.  I was looking through some pages of some people I follow on Flickr.  I like to really look through people's Favorites because I think that is where you find the good stuff.  So during this casual flipping through of pictures, I came upon this cartoon/drawing of what seemed to be an older grandma type woman with a younger boy (I would assume all models are at least 18, but it was a drawing), and she had him bare assed over her knee and was swatting him.  

So, I'm not really into spanking.  I think that is a near vanilla thing that couples probably engage in when they first start becoming sexually active.  Then there is the more intense stuff that probably falls into the BDSM category.  Frankly, once I got past my first girlfriend in high school, I just never felt the urge to spank a woman, and certainly not be spanked myself.

So I scrolled on to other pictures and in fact, I moved to other Flickr accounts and frankly, I have no idea where I saw the picture.  I had planned to copy it and show it here as an example of what I'm talking about when I began to write this.

I started thinking about this incident that happened when I was in middle school, aged 14 or 15.  I started writing the background of who was who, where we lived, and how this whole thing came about, but then I realized that my verbosity is probably just too much detail for some readers.  You don't give a crap about about what people are wearing, where we were, etc., etc.  So I'll get down to the meat of it.

As I said, this happened when we were 14 or 15.  A group of us, including two brothers were out shooting BB guns in the woods, and the older brother (14) shot his younger brother (12) in the back.  This is gun safety 101.  Always assume the weapon is loaded, and don't fucking shoot your brother in the back as a joke.

The group of us teens including the victim all agreed on a story: Two older boys we didn't know or recognize from the neighborhood made some snide remarks and when we turned around to leave, one of the boys shot the 12 year old in the back.  Simple enough for everyone to remember the story.  Next, as we raced back to the kids' house to alert the parents, we were thinking it was just a wound fixable with some Mecurocrome and a bandage.  Turns out when the mother and step-father saw the welt, they gathered up the kid and took him to the clinic for stitches.

This is where the story got super strange.  Just a note, if you find a kid shooting his brother in the back with a BB gun the strange part, I assure you, back in the 1970's, it happened all the time.

The 14 year old was nicknamed Scooter.  We all stood in front of his house doing the late 1970's equivalent of high-fives.  I don't know what that was, but I don't recall high-fiving being a thing yet.

A we were standing there, Scooter's grandmother opened the front door.  The lady didn't live with them but she seemed to be there an awful lot.  Back then, I saw gray hair and thought she was old, but in reality, she was probably in her late fifties at the most.  Considering that describes me now, I see her as a woman who was in her prime!

I always thought she was a nice lady and never had any reason to think otherwise.  But when she stood there with her arms folded and said, "Come inside boys." with a really stern look, I suddenly thought we were about to get a serious tongue lashing.

I'm sure by now you can imagine that wasn't the case.

We shuffled into the dining room in silence and I was seriously hoping everyone would stick to the story.  It wasn't so much that the rest of us had shot at the younger brother, but the fact that we conspired to cover it up.  That basically meant phone calls to parents and grounding, just on principle.  But if we all stuck with it, we might get by.

It never even got to that point.  I guess Nana, as Scooter and his brother called her, knew.  This is before cell phones so my speculation is that the parents broke the younger brother before they even got to the clinic, and as soon as they arrived, a phone call was made.

If you recall the scene at the end of Slingblade where the convicted sex offender drags his wooden chair across the floor to great affect, that is exactly the sound it made when Nana pulled a chair out from the dining room table and placed it a few feet away.  I looked at Scooter and right away he had this pleading look on his face.

"No, Nana, please, not now." He began to quietly sob.

"Now!" she demanded like a drill sergeant.

Looking at the other two boys, we all sort of turned white.  What the hell is this old lady doing?

"I will not tell you again." she said.

"Nana, please." he begged.  "Hey, you guys should probably go home now." he pleaded through obvious tears of embarrassment.

"Stand right there!" Nana hollered at us.

I've always suffered from a nervous laugh.  I laughed in military basic training at all the wrong times which generally caused unwanted attention.  

When Nana told Scooter to pull down his pants or she would rip them off him, I had the slightest bit of a smirk.  I mean, this kid was 14.  You don't get spanked when you're 14, especially with your pants down.  I think I smirked with the slightest bit of a suppressed laugh when I got the look from hell.  I nearly pissed myself.

Scooter tried to half comply by unzipping his Levi's and pulling them over his underwear to the top of his thighs.  This was not a matter of other guys seeing him undressed; we had all routinely seen each other completely nude, either from skinny dipping or through random dares of streaking in public places.  This was a matter of humiliation and that was why Nana insisted the rest of us observe.

"Goddammit, you know what will be done when you misbehave like this.  Now the longer you defy me, the worse it will be. "

Scooter was so embarrassed his attempts to hide tears was over with.  He simply pulled his underwear along with the jeans completely down to his ankles, then leaned his body over Nana's knees.  

Some people get off on this and I mean no attempt to kink shame, but as a teen approaching high school age, this was socially horrific.  When the first hard slap to the ass landed, my only thought was, please, make this quick and let's all get out of here before she looks at her next victims.

It was only made worse when Nana would spank, then talk and lecture Scooter, mostly for the audience's ears, then spank again before another diatribe.  I think the three of us tried to look away or look down and Nana would snap, "Eyes on me."

In total I think she smacked his ass at least ten times but it seemed to take forever.  There were no marks of any concern, just redness that matched Scooter's face.  I honestly felt bad for him and have to admit to wailing up myself.  

"Have you learned your lesson, Michael?" Nana called him by his real name.  

"Yes, Ma'am." Scooter whimpered, still bent over the knee with red ass exposed to his friends.  

"I love you.  I'm sorry you forced me to punish you in front of your friends."  She now rubbed his ass cheeks and looked up at us. "They need to understand what happens when boys your age break the rules."

Jesus, we were 14 and 15, not 7 year olds.

"You may stand up now." She offered.  

As Scooter lifted himself up from Nana's lap, he quickly reached for the pants at his ankles. His embarrassment was palpable.

"Go to your room and wait for your mother." she said.

"Yes, Ma'am."  Scooter made no eye contact with the group of us boys, and who could blame him?

When Scooter had shuffled off to his room along with whatever dignity that remained, Nana looked up at the three of us.  I know we were all thinking the same thing.  This crazy bitch better not think she can have me pull down my pants and climb on her knees.  

As if it was slow motion from the scene in Slingblade again, Nana stood up, dragged the wooden chair across the floor which scared the shit out of us, then stood with a big smile and said, "Which of you could go for some cookies?  I just pulled them out of the oven twenty minutes ago."

"I sure could." said Albert, the youngest of the group.

I looked at Gary, the older boy and muttered "Shit". I think we were hoping to just get the hell out of there.

Strangely, we sat there and ate a few cookies each and then Nana escorted us to the front door.  Nothing more was said.

The next time I saw Scooter he preemptively said he didn't want to discuss it.  I had so many questions.  I saw Nana on and off again for several years before I left for the military.  Thankfully I never witnessed another spanking but have no idea if they occurred and Scooter just chose not to share the humiliating details.

Tuesday, May 24, 2022

Were My Parents Swingers?

 In the early 1970’s when I was still in elementary school, there was a TV show called, “Love American Style”.   It was a comedy show that featured a few different storylines each time, and they had a regular cast of people supplemented by guest stars each show.  These were ten or twelve minute stories that as you might guess revolved around relationships and sex. 

I doubt I watched the show during the initial run but for sure it was one of the syndicated shows that played every afternoon when I got home from school.  My sister and I would laugh at the silly comedic actors.  In my mind, there was just lots of over the top innuendo, implying s-e-x, but no actual doing it.  


I’m almost certain though that this show is what introduced me to the term “swingers”,  even if I didn’t fully understand what it was.  


I suppose it was around this time that I concluded my parents and their close friends, the neighbors from down the street were swingers.  


No, I never walked in on the wrong husband being at my house or finding the wrong wife there, but there was something in my mind that kept telling me there was something sexual taking place.  To this day, thirty years later, I have no proof of my suspicions yet, I still think it.  


It’s funny, I don’t even imagine my father fucking the other wife, but more of this idea that the other husband fucked my mom while my dad and the other woman sat back and watched in a voyeuristic way. I imagine them sitting back enjoying cocktails as their spouses go at it.  


How does this thought enter into a 14 or 15 year old’s mind and stick there for years? 


Oh, I don’t think I didn’t map out the logistics of it all.  You know, the place, the time, the privacy needed to engage in such adult behavior.  


By the time I was fifteen my parents had raised all my older brothers and sisters and they simply were not the helicopter parents of the 2020’s.  In the late 1970’s, my parents would go on a trip out of town (with the neighbors) and leave me to my own devices, knowing I was responsible enough to get to school, feed myself, feed the pets and not burn down the house.  


I imagined my parents and the neighbors just went to their shared cabin in the woods, drank heavily and did swinger stuff with each other.  Or on shorter trips, perhaps adjoining rooms in a hotel. Dinner, drinks, sex, voyeurism.  


They were away on one of these trips when, just before starting the tenth grade, an older woman took my virginity. But that’s another story and I’ve probably told it before.  


Both the husbands have long passed away and I doubt I’d ask my 92 year-old mother if she ever fucked the neighbor while dad watched.  But maybe that’s just something that runs in the family.  I mean, I had to get it from somewhere.  

Sunday, April 24, 2022

Boy's Night...

This was originally posted in February of 2018 and recalls an incredible weekend of new thrills - including - trigger warning, people - some piss play.  No real explanation needed here, I think the post speaks for itself.  I hope you enjoy.

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This weekend I attended a bachelor party with a bunch of my coworkers and though I generally shy away from such fun, we had a great plan that included one of those party buses to safely get us from bar to bar.

Of note, we went to a strip club over by San Antonio’s airport called Perfect 10.  I hadn’t been to this place in at least ten years.  I will say that they took care of us with a discounted cover and also got our bachelor up on stage for a two dancer laptop that was hilarious.  They beat his ass with belts!

At some point during the stint in PT’s a coworker decided that I needed a lap dance and because he knew my interest in darker women, he got the one African-American dancer to do the dance.  She was certainly pretty, had a great, tight body, and was a good dancer, but I could tell there was no way I could get into it.

 I was certainly drunk enough to let loose in front of my colleagues but I will say that the current social conversation about men and women and consent causes me to at least take pause.  Of course, she was being paid and tipped and this is her job, but my body simply wasn’t interested in that.  As much as she tried, I don’t think I even got hard.  Maybe if it had been a private dance.  Who knows?

I had a great conversation with another colleague, one who is in a truly open marriage.  He told me about attending his first sex club and how he needs to go back for more.  We don’t have a “graphic details” type of relationship but more the mechanics and philosophy of the marriage arrangements we have.  It was enough for me to say that my wife’s boyfriend had visited her while I was checking into my hotel room downtown.  No further details or explanation needed.

As readers of a sex blog, you probably understand how great it is to find someone who can talk openly about such taboo subjects.  But in our case, we keep things very professional at work.  I haven’t offered to suck his cock, for instance, nor have I suggested to him how much I’d love to fuck his wife or his girlfriend or especially both of them!  But the conversations are nice and we both recommend books, podcasts and blogs to one another.

At the last bar we visited, my friend Co-worker H and I decided to call it a night, grab a Lyft and go to the hotel I was staying at.  The hotel my wife was not at.

We got to the room and without even a word, we both stripped nude and got on the bed together.  He has sucked my dick many times in the privacy of his office or mine, but we’ve never been naked or had time to really play.

I looked at my phone and determined that the Lyft dropped us off at 11:45 PM  and I went to bed at 1:20 in the morning.  Roughly an hour and a half of naughty man fun.

There was a lot of dick sucking, both of us switching off to try to make the other cum. H also did his best to finger bang my ass but without lube, it was a tight fit.  At one point I told him to fuck me but his E.D. Issues limit the erection he can have without pills.  Getting old sucks, people.

Eventually, though it was all very enjoyable I gave in and told H I was not going to cum.  Too many beers.  I knew I had to pee and he said he needed to too so we both walked into the restroom.  I jokingly said we should pee together into the shower.  It was mostly a giggle moment and then I had a thought.  I told him I wanted him to pee on my face.  I know, super drunk but it just seemed funny.

I leaned my head into the shower and H pissed on my cheek.  The warm stream was odorless given the multiple beers that had been consumed earlier in the evening.  I shut my eyes, of course, and certainly kept my mouth tightly sealed.  No lies, it wasn't anything awful.  He stopped peeing and said, "Pee on me!"

I reached my hands into the shower and cupped the water to rinse my face off but really didn't mind that I didn't get it all off me.  I realized that even after all this, I still had a throbbing erection and I still had some pee in my bladder.  H tilted forward and I began letting loose with the remainder of the recycled beer in my body.  He was much more daring than me, turning to take the stream square in the face, and amazingly, opening his mouth to take a shot and momentarily hold it before spitting the piss right back out into the shower.  With the last of my stream covering his closed eyes and his forehead, it was so strange that the two of us were indulging in such varsity level kink.  Okay, varsity level in my book.

H rinsed himself off in the shower and I moved over to the bathroom sink and gave myself a good face scrubbing and brushed my teeth for good measure.  It was probably less than five minutes later, and he was dressed and headed out the door.

The next morning, I got up and showered, then headed home to go pick my wife up.  The plan was to go back downtown and hit the farmer's market piddle around a bit and then head back to the hotel to get ready for the wedding we would attend later in the afternoon. 

When we made it back to the hotel, she was eager to make use of the king size bed and have some afternoon hotel sex.  I was fully aware that her boyfriend, JD had visited her Friday afternoon, but because she had not sent me any pics of them engaged in anything, and because I knew he had come by later than normal, I guess I assumed he had simply stopped by for a quick drink. 

Turns out, he had an afternoon work function and it gave him enough cover for his wife to stay a while longer.  She told me that she asked him to give her a quick foot massage, which he was happy to do, but soon, they were moving from the couch to the bedroom. 

The foot massage in the living room had turned into him going down on her for twenty to thirty minutes.  She said that he made her cum multiple times and when she would assume it was over and he'd get his cloths on to leave, he'd just eat her pussy more until she came again. 

She told me, as she was now riding my cock, that he asked her to ride him the way she rides me.  There is no humiliation or intent to cuckold me when she describes JD's dick being much thicker than mine.  It's not like I haven't seen it.  She described her soaking pussy simply sliding down on his shaft and gripping him with her muscles.  I looked up and her eyes shut tightly, I knew she was going right back there, only with her hips gripping and riding my cock.

She explained that he came so hard in her pussy that when she pulled herself off him, there was a small puddle of cum dripping.  And with that information, I finally shot the load that had been built-up, starting with a lap dance, spurred on by an hour of dick sucking and delayed only by the side effects of beer. 

As it turns out, I had quite a load to deposit myself.  My wife laughed and pulled out her phone and took a picture of my dick and balls covered in the frothy mix of my white cum and her juices.  We giggled a bit and I made my way to the shower while she took a nap.

Just as a final note to cap off this weekend of sex.  Two things.  First, at the wedding we attended, we sat at a table with H and his wife and a few other female colleagues and their husbands.  It occurred to me that, the colleague sitting next to H had had a brief affair with him sometime back.  They remain close friends but don't fuck anymore.  So it just seemed funny to me that at a weeding, at that table, there was H and me and H and a lady he had fucked, and all our unsuspecting spouses having a great evening.

The second thing was, the other lady sitting at our table was chatting with my wife.  Neither H nor I have fucked her, but we both talk about it all the time.  Anyway, she asked my wife about a picture of something and of course, you know where this is going.  Yes, the picture of my cum covered cock and balls was the first picture to cum up and my wife quick as she could swiped past it, though the laughter and red face from our co-worker pretty much told the story that it wasn't quick enough.  Oh well.  Life is too short to be embarrassed. 

Friday, April 15, 2022

The Normalcy of it All...

 If you were to visit my house and walk into the master bath, you might open the linen closet and be curious about a plastic basket that sits on one of the shelves.  It contains a folded pair of men's underwear, an electric toothbrush, and possibly a t-shirt, I think.  I haven't rummaged through it.  

If you looked into the shower stall, you'd see what are clearly his and hers sets of shampoo and conditioner on a bench seat, and on a different shelf, a completely different brand of men's body wash.  A detective or curious friend might see these clues and, as a benefit of the doubt guess, surmise that a family member - an uncle or an in-law of some sort occasionally visits and has these things available.  Naturally, if someone were to ask, we would quickly offer that as a response.

But you, dear reader, know the truth, and these clues are simply the artifacts of a the last six or seven years of having a boyfriend who visits often enough that it makes sense to have these items available. 

Our situation has become so normal for us that it is hard not to simply bring it up at work when chatting with people who know or know of my wife's boyfriend, JD.  He and I work in the same field, though we no longer work in the same place.  When I come home from work and he has been there, there isn't discussion about the sex that took place an hour earlier in my bed, but rather how JD wanted to thank me for the advice I gave on a particular matter, or wanted to pass on a compliment about something I had done around the house.  My wife might relay news about JD's son or tell a funny story about what he did over the weekend.  

The naughty, threesome, hotwife, cuckold, fill in the blank sexcapade aspect of this has passed and the nature of it all has just become natural.   I thought of this while listening to a caller on the Dan Savage, Savage Lovecast from this week.  At some point, Dan was explaining what it was like in his own open relationship where he had to comfort his husband the first time there was a break-up between his husband and a lover.  He said it was awkward, for sure.  But these are the types of things that over time become normal.

I'm at the point in my life where I hear about people breaking up with their spouse over an online conversation with someone on Instagram.  Or perhaps the husband went to a strip club during lunch and had a lap dance.  Maybe a wife went on a girls night out and danced with a cute guy at a bar.  Remember people, this is the person you probably said at some point - and you know, we've all said it - I'd give my life for him/her.  But only if they never dance with a cute guy at a bar.

On Tuesday evening, we sat down in our living room to watch the nightly news.  My wife sent me pictures of her with JD's thick cock in her mouth.  It was no surprise that JD had been by earlier that afternoon.  

When I had gotten home and changed clothes, I noticed the cum rags in the dirty clothes hamper.  Before placing my own clothes on top, I lifted the folded hand towels to my nose and inhaled, taking in the smell of semen and female moisture combined.   This is a pleasure that I will never tire of.

 I chuckled at the pictures as another was received. My wife's large tits surrounding JD's cock.  She looked across the room at me and smiled.  "What do you plan on taking for lunch tomorrow?"

It doesn't get any more normal than this.


Tuesday, April 5, 2022

My Internet Therapist Says...

I first posted this in October of 2015 when I was in the midst of a self proclaimed Mid-Life-Crisis.  A reader who had stumbled across my blog did one of the kindest things a person could do, and that was to start offering advice in private, to help me understand myself.  I knew so very little about this guy - he was as anonymous as they come (and believe me, I searched the web for any sort of presence). I began referring to him as my Internet Therapist.  The man would read my blog posts, then send notes.  We had long back and forth e-mail conversations, then at one point it all stopped. He admitted that I was just too much for him.  I thanked him for his words and it was done.

------<<<>>>------

This man reads me so well.  I think it is a little embarrassing for him when I share his words of wisdom, but this note he sent just painted a really true picture of me and I must share:

It could be that you're sexualizing conversations when it becomes intimate in order to keep it away from being truly intimate.  
 You probably understand this well:  Intimacy means revealing your secrets, making yourself vulnerable by revealing your secrets, and thus trusting the other person to connect with you in honest way.  I suspect you don't do that with your wife--and probably never have.  And not really with anyone, for that matter.  I suspect that one of things going on is that you feel lonely but can't quite put your finger on why that is, or even identify what you're feeling, a sort of existential angst, as loneliness.  Intimacy is mental and emotional, not physical.  We call sexual connection intimacy because that's suppose to be a secretly shared activity--but it's really not.  Real intimacy is all in your head, and it happens when you make yourself vulnerable and the other person honors that.

I'm constantly looking for a label to define myself.  I'm Bi, I'm a freak, I'm this or that.  I'm not sure why I seek to find answers to who or what I am.  I should just accept that I am me.

Saturday, April 2, 2022

I Would Ask if You Wanted to Have Sex...

Friday had been a particularly down day for me at work.  I spent close to an hour chatting with a few few colleagues, half telling old war stories and half explaining why I felt somewhat disconnected and useless in my job.  In hindsight, I thought I probably sounded like some drunk guy at a bar rambling on about lost love or something boring.  The only problem was, I wasn't drunk.  When I got into the parking lot, I sat in my truck for a good ten minutes trying to force my way out of it.  Just mentally force myself to stop with all this nonsense.  I made myself laugh by imagining that I look like the perfect ad for one of those depression commercials.  

I turned on the truck and started my current Audible book.  It is John Steinbeck's East of Eden.  By some chance of coincidence, I was at a part in the book where Adam is shocked out of his years long depression when his trusted advisor dies and he is compelled to confront his psychotic estranged wife who up and left years ago to become a madame in a whore house.  Oh, this is good stuff, Mister Steinbeck.  I seemed to forget of my current self-inflicted doldrums and enjoy the ride home.

When I got to the house, we decided to hit our Friday evening pub for dinner to try a new food truck we had not seen before.  Some form of greek stuff that was just okay.  We had two beers and casually chit-chatted as my wife asked if she had done anything this past week to piss me off.  The truce continues to hold, and frankly, she is being better at it than I am, I think.


We got home and decided switch out of our clothes into our evening wear - you know, sweats and t-shirts, perfect for knocking out a handful of shows on the DVR.


She walked into the bathroom in her panties, tossing her clothes into the hamper.  "I would ask if you want to have sex but…"


Before she could finish the passive-aggressive statement, I responded, "Okay."  


Her surprised look almost made me laugh when she turned around and her tits shook almost like a cartoon.  


For those of you keeping track, and my wife certainly has, the last time I engaged with her, penis to vagina, it was mid December.  That was last year, technically.  Yes, in the year 2022, her boyfriend, JD, has had more sex with my wife - by far - than I have.  


We have been in this new mode of kindness, and that’s the only way I can describe it.  Since we had our conversation regarding our relationship and I had opened up about my frustrations with her, she has magically just stopped doing the things I’ve told her I hate.  


Seriously, as many people predicted, I just had to man up and use my words.  In one conversation we went from “how do we split the assets” to “I’ll try to do better”.  


In my mind, I just assumed we’d resume marital relations, and believe me, she was eager to get started.  But as we got in bed each night, I just felt the idea of sex with her was the furthest thing from my mind.  I can't put it into words, but I suspect a lot of women understand that feeling of having no sexual spark when it comes to the husband who would gladly go for a roll in the hay.  


 With a still not convinced "Are you sure?" we stripped, she grabbed a few toys and we got started.  


We’ve established that I get erections with little physical issue.  But I have not ejaculated with my wife in over 6 months.  When I get the urge for masturbation, I’m able to edge or if I choose,  I’m able to quickly unload.  Physically, I’m okay.  Clearly, this inability to climax with my wife is mental.  And as I expected, when my wife easily climaxed in a matter of minutes, I was already fully aware that there would be no release for me.  And maybe that qualifies as a self fulfilling prophecy.  They say some men get so worked up about not being able to get an erection that they talk themselves out of one.  Perhaps, I cannot find that mental and physical magic that sends one over the falls (as it has been described), that moment of climatic inevitability.  


She continued to ride my cock for a few moments and then pointed out a comment from JD after the last time I watched them have sex.  He couldn't believe I just sat there and watched without at least stroking or pulling off my pants.  She said he was actually worried about me.  


It has been a month since my last session with the counselor.  I suspect we have a conversation coming up.  I've always thought of depression as something you snap out of - sort of like in a football game when the coach tells you to walk it off.  I can't blame it on my wife being a bitch when technically, she's not being one.