Tuesday, July 31, 2018

#TMITuesday: July 31, 2018 ~ Straight or Sexy?

It’s the end of the month, don’t let it get away without playing TMI Tuesday!

Image © Allison.Parker22 on Instagram


Tell it to us straight or sexy…

1. One thing that you will never do again?
~ Suck cock.

2. Who knows you the best?
~ Ha - me of course! Certainly not my wife, who spends a lot of time reading books on how to manage people better and going to seminars on how to manage people better. She reads books on how to raise teenage girls, but never anything about marriage. I guess she thinks she has that covered.

3. Do you think a relationship should be 50/50 all the time?
~ Not all the time, but it should average out to equal. Unless one partner is happy with the other being the dominant partner of course. And if that's the case you better be damned sure the 'lesser' partner IS happy, otherwise you're in for a big shock when their silent seething explodes into expressed rage.

4. When was your most recent act of kindness? Was it appreciated?
~ Both my wife and child have no idea about half the sh!t I do to keep things rolling along. A few months back my wife's single friends had to point out to her all the nice things I do for her - and they also noted that she was completely oblivious and didn't even acknowledge what I was doing when I did these things! So that was nice (for me). My wife was sheepish and apologized to me and promised to acknowledge me more but that only lasted a week.

5. Are you a good friend? Why or why not?
~ I am - in theory. My circle of friends has diminished greatly in the last 10 years. But I am fiercely loyal and even of we haven't seen each other in a long while I'm still ready to help wherever I can. I think my friends know they can rely on me.

6. What is something that you tried really hard to like but just couldn’t?
~ Gnocchi.  I'm kidding - I didn't try very hard at all. If I don't like something I don't eat it. I don't care how 'cool' it is or if all the hipsters in Brooklyn are eating it - just give me a proper meal I can chomp on. Like char grilled octopus. None of these fancy 'tasting plates' with a teaspoon of something deconstructed thank you. 

Bonus: How was your month of July? Did you do anything fun, interesting, new?
~ Why yes, I went on a two week cruise through the Baltic Sea and visited a bunch of places I've never been to before, namely Stockholm, Helsinki, Tallinn, Copenhagen, St Petersburg, and Roystock (where I swam naked on their nude beach - the first time in my life I've ever done that).

Double Bonus: If you're feeling brave you can read My Daughter’s First Blow Job (it's nonfiction and not erotic, duh). Or Saturday's #SoSS post (which was late, so posted on Sunday)
  
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How to play TMI Tuesday: Copy the above TMI Tuesday questions to your webspace (i.e., a blog). Answer the questions there, then leave a comment below, on this blog post, so we’ll all know where to read your responses. Please don’t forget to link to tmituesdayblog from your website!

Happy TMI Tuesday!

Monday, July 30, 2018

My Daughter’s First Blow Job

A provocative title I know, but I regret to inform you this is not erotic fiction. It's not erotic non-fiction either, so if you do get excited please refrain from commenting since this is my daughter we're talking about. 

It happened like this:


My daughter seems to spend all her time on social media now,
and is always conscious of her weight and how she looks.
Image by © Marco Megrati

On Saturday night our daughter had a party at our house for 20 of her closest and most trusted friends. Not a 'party', she claimed, just 'a gathering'. Unfortunately for her I was a teenager once too, so I knew it was bullshit.

Not my wife of course, who happily gave our daughter permission for this sophisticated soiree - even though we ourselves had a party to go to that same night!

My wife said it would be fine because they wouldn't be coming to our house until after her school recital finished at 11pm, and they were just going to watch movies and drink some low alcohol beer and wine and eight of them were sleeping over.

Again, I called bullshit.

So at 9.45pm I left my wife at her party and raced home (she would catch an Uber later). I pulled into our garage just after 10pm and already there was a couple waiting at our gate to get in. So much for the recital finishing at 11pm! I had no sooner let them in when my daughter appeared also, with a half dozen in tow.

And then it was all on. My daughter told reminded me in no uncertain terms that my wife had agreed that we would stay upstairs in our bedroom while they enjoyed themselves downstairs. After eyeballing a few of the guys I decamped upstairs. What they didn't know was that from my bedroom window I could look across to my daughters bedroom, and down into the lounge also. If I stepped out onto our balcony I could also see what was happening on the terrace below. So with all blinds and curtains wide open I actually had a birds-eye view of most of the party, with the exception of the kitchen and dining room beneath me. 

Actually I could see the dining room reflected in the lounge room windows, so I felt confident I had a good handle on everything.  Within half an hour the anticipated twenty had arrived but by the end of the hour we were up to forty. Which I had anticipated because, again, I was a teenager once. I'd thrown a few parties myself at her age.

My daughter is young for her year, sixteen and a half, and all her friends were seventeen plus. My wife had been in charge of getting permission slips from all the kids parents (really just a text!) re: alcohol. The parents all agreed they could drink low alcohol beer or wine, but no 'hard liquor'! Like my wife, they were all of the belief it was better to let the kids drink a little alcohol (even though they were under age) rather than have them all sneak off and get plastered in cars outside.

So far so good. But not really. It was almost hilarious watching them all from my vantage point above. But not really.

The beers were not 'low alcohol' (as I expected) and many of the kids were slugging from wine bottles which they clasped like teddy bears. Very classy! Most of them were smoking (including my daughter) which surprised me because I thought this generation knew better. Apparently smart middle class rich kids are immune to lung cancer - the epitome of 'white privilege' perhaps?

I observed the kids would wander in twos and threes all over the house, seeking out the coolest spot to hang out in. There were a half dozen kids in my daughters room, sprawled out on the floor and on the bed. In our guest room (yes, I did go on 'patrol' every 20 minutes) were a couple making out - they had clearly commandeered the room for themselves since all the lights were out and they shouted out "taken!" when I walked in. 

"Don't mind me" I said, as I went to the bedroom window to look out onto the street. I was checking to see if more cars/people were arriving but they weren't. But our electronic gate had been left open (by my daughter or her friends) so anyone could wander in on arrival. I decided to go downstairs and shut it since from my 'vantage point' in our master bedroom I couldn't see the street front. The kids resumed their fingering even before I'd left.

So by 11pm the kids had the music cranked up as loud as it would go and were scattered in about four different zones around the house. Five, including the movie room down in the basement. That's what I get for having a multi-room sound system I suppose. By 11.30pm the kids were getting messy and I was looking forward to the return of my wife, since we now seemed to have about fifty hormonally affected people in our house. My wife had said she would leave her party about 11pm but since she was with her BNG bro's I knew that would be when she started her goodbyes. 

I was wrong. At 12.30pm I got a text from my wife: "On my way!" followed immediately by "How's it going?"

So I told her: "It's starting to get messy. There are people here who were clearly not at the recital. Your daughter is smoking again!"

Five minutes later my wife replied: "Okay, well when I get there I'll ask for the permission slips - happy to be the Bad Cop"

I said 'WTF?' to myself (my wife lives in LaLa Land sometimes, these kids were already drunk) but instead replied: "There are a dozen people in our daughters room, but she is downstairs on the back lawn with six dudes". And she was, smoking weed.

My wife got home at 1pm (when she texts "On my way!" she really means "I've just looked at the time - oops! - I said I'd be leaving a long time ago but I am getting ready to go now - I just have to say goodbye to a few people first - I will text periodically as if I'm on my way"). We kicked all the kids out of my daughter's room (there were at least a dozen there now) and sent them downstairs. We looked her bedroom door.

My wife then distributed apple slices amongst all the kids (like she'd read they do at EDM festivals) which she explained later was so she could eyeball all the kids and see who was messy and who was wasted. The ones who were wasted she told had to drink water only. Whether they listened to her I don't know but no-one threw up in our house.

From my vantage point back on our master bedroom balcony I could see that our daughter had found her way back into her bedroom. With a boy. And no-one else. People were trying to get in but obviously she had locked the door behind her. My daughter and the boy went from sitting on the bed to lying on the bed, with their legs dangling over the edge. 

They were clearly making out, which surprised me because they hadn't shut the blinds and ... my daughter's previous boyfriend was a girlfriend. And the boyfriend before the girlfriend was a girlfriend too. Clearly my daughter was a switch hitter. The guy was lying on his back and my daughter seemed to be the aggressor. She was on top of him and he had a hand up her t-shirt. I thought she was wearing a crop top but then realized as I saw under-boob that no, it was just a regular t-shirt and he had wandering hands. At that point I looked away.

As I stood on the balcony I pondered what to do. She was sixteen and a half and I didn't think it was fair for me to get all puritanical. I'd been doing the same thing at her age, to young women her age, so I had to accept it was a 'rite of passage' for her, right? If I burst in there and shouted and stamped my feet and kicked his ass I'd just be making an embarrassing scene, right? All her friends would find out and she would be shamed for all eternity. Right?

I resolved to tell my wife and let her handle it.

As I turned to go back into my bedroom (from the balcony) I caught another eyeful of the view from my daughters bedroom.  She was no longer kissing him on the mouth, she was halfway down his chest and it looked like she had one hand at his flies. WTF?! Was she...? No, it couldn't be...? OMIGOD!

Okay, I didn't see anything but I did see everything right up until I was certain what my daughter was doing. What she was doing. He was just lying back, and she was doing it. To him.

As I raced down the stairs to find my wife a million thoughts flashed through my mind. In slow motion. In the last six months out daughter has started smoking cigarettes, drinking alcohol, smoking weed, drinking vodka, staying out well past curfew, and doing magic mushrooms. Never once had my wife accepted any of my disciplinary suggestions. Every time our daughter 'acts out' my wife tells me our daughter is fragile, has issues, and we need to be careful because otherwise she might run away - like my wife did when she was seventeen. 

My wife left home when she was seventeen and didn't reconcile with her family for five years - and she doesn't want that happening to us.

So when I finally found my wife I decided not to tell her exactly what our daughter was doing, instead I told her "Our daughter is back in her bedroom making out with a boy - I think you should go up there and tell them to come downstairs. And stay downstairs."  I figured it would be better for our daughter's mental health if her mother were to catch her, rather than her father. And I didn't tell my wife exactly what our daughter was doing because I wanted to see if my wife would tell me what had happened (thinking she was the first to discover it).

So my wife went upstairs and I didn't see her again for ten minutes. When I finally did I asked her what happened. She told me she'd gone in there and told them to get out, and stay downstairs. "And?" I asked, anticipating more. My wife said she'd told our daughter that she was an idiot because the lights were on and the blinds were open and everyone downstairs could see what they were doing.  Which wasn't actually true - only I could see from our bedroom balcony. The people downstairs would not have been able to see what was happening horizontally on the bed due the angle of vision.

"So what were they doing?" I asked, casually.

"Nothing, they heard me coming and he'd jumped into her ensuite as I walked in - bloody coward - so I read her the riot act. I told her she shouldn't be making out and putting on a show for everyone downstairs"

"They weren't making out" I said, "it was more than that"

"What?" said my wife.

"She was kissing him, but not on the mouth"

"What!?" said my wife.

"Well obviously I didn't stand and stare, but she had her head further down" I explained "and unless she was kissing his belly button..."

"Who is this guy? Where is he?" demanded my wife.

"I don't know. Like I said, I didn't watch for longer than I needed to. He's a tall guy..."

And with that my wife was off, searching the room. It turned out he had fled the house after my wife had walked in. Apparently he did not go to our daughters school, and it was possible he didn't go to school at all. Possibly unemployed. All this info was gleaned from other girls since our daughter had also made herself scarce, moving around the house to keep away from us. 

By the time we caught up with her it was after 2am and she was quite drunk. I suggested to my wife that we shut down the party since pretty much everyone was drunk and she agreed. Ten minutes later, after informing our daughter of the closing, my wife came back and told me she had reached agreement with our daughter... that the party would finish at 3am. Which it did because I killed the music and turned on all the lights.

We then started tossing everyone out, with the exception of the eight who were staying the night. Who were now twelve people, not eight. It wasn't until 3.30am that we would got the house back to ourselves - and our dozen 'guests'. One of whom was asking for a bowl so he could chop up his weed into more manageable pieces. He needed it to sleep, apparently, after such a big night.

Then my wife started hollering from the basement wine cellar, which had been off limits. It turned out we'd been robbed of a dozen bottles of very expensive wine. Wine we'd still have if my wife had not told me that afternoon was fine where it was, and we needed to trust these kids and not hide things away. My wife had been insistent this was just a gathering of 20 of our daughters best friends, despite me saying it was a party and social media would ensure all and sundry would turn up. And get wasted. And possibly trash our house and/or steal our shit. 

My wife then deflected all this by telling me I should have kicked that guy's ass when I saw him in our daughter's bedroom defiling our angel, so why hadn't I?

At which point I realized... it was all.my.fault!

-~o0o~-

This post has also been submitted to Masturbation Monday (I'm not sure why). Click this link for erotic stories - unlike mine!

Sunday, July 29, 2018

OPP: #SoSS ~ Sun 29 July

Image from May More © who is this week's prompt for the Masturbation Monday meme.
If you're quick you've still got time to submit an erotic piece inspired by those magnificent breasts!
The #SoSS meme is a roundup of favourite blogs I’ve visited this week. In order not to duplicate what others have done for #SoSS (Share Our Shit Saturday) (or Sunday if you forget/run out of time) I’m going to give you links to some of their older stuff - because I think their complete blogs are worth reading. Click the links for the full stories, because these are just excerpts.

May More ~ If Sex Matters - "Kink Me Three Ways"

Last week I went to a Rocky Horror Picture Show themed event and half the men were dressed in drag. So I chuckled when I saw May's post this morning. You might think I've given it all away with this excerpt but you'd be wrong - click the link for the full story: 
Kink one

Ever since I was a teenager it has been my desire to be physically hurt or, taken and used by someone else for their selfish gratification. 
Kink two

Having an older brother meant that right from a very young age I was subjected to a lot of glam rock. The likes of Marc Bolan singing or Tim Curry gyrating, sealed the fate of one of my other main kinks – effeminate men – particularly men wearing skimpy ladies panties. Just writing about this has an impact on my cunt. I can feel it pulsing, dampening my own knickers. I find it an extreme turn on. 
Kink three

It will also no surprise to my readers that I like to be tied up and spanked, whipped or belted...
[much more]

Posy Churchgate ~ Pillow Talk - Lazy Vacation Lust

Posy went on vacation and when she got back she wrote a whole essay about what she did during the holidays, which she then read to the whole class. The class got excited listening... :
Suck, nibble and pull - my teeth and mouth made tiny movements to torture the darkened flesh. I sucked at him, imagining I was pulling at my own nipples, sending sparks of fire radiating out from the tissues, a hot-line of sensation to his groin (I hoped). Fixing my lips wide around one nipple I pulled hard, I wanted to feel it drawing into my mouth, filling it. I tried to drag blood into the tiny area, to make it tingle and ache, heavy with need for the fucking we would both enjoy.

He groaned. “Don’t stop!” Trust me, I wouldn't!

I reached out for the little black anal plug, coating its surface with lube. In my spread position over his thighs, my pussy slick with my own cream, it slipped easily in place and I enjoyed the sensation, the invasion, the pressure. I felt like his dirty whore, I wanted to fill all my holes, only one had been neglected so far!
 
So I raised myself on my knees, letting his cock spring up firm and eager. It’s head was purpled with lust, its girth coated with my juices and my pussy clenched at the sheer joy of knowing that I was welcoming it home. I reached one hand behind me to hold the itty bitty butt plug in place before centring his cock at my entrance then sinking down in a rushing, satisfying thrust.

Speared, impaled on his manhood - I paused to
... [much more]

Kate Iselin ~  "Why Men Cheat With Sex Workers"

Kate Iselin is a sex worker in Australia who writes for news.com.au. I happened upon this column while trawling through the world wide wide web - I'll leave it to you to figure out why, and what I found interesting:
Talk about sex work for long enough, and the topic of cheating spouses invariably arises. When I first started working, I told myself I would refuse to see any married clients [...] but I’m glad I never baulked at seeing men who were married. 
What fascinating stories I was told by them: as they showered and dressed at the end of bookings they would often pepper the conversation with anecdotes about their wives and girlfriends, not put off at all by the surreal situation in which they relayed stories about their home lives. 
I’ve listened to tales of all sorts of relationship problems: wives who travel frequently, girlfriends who live abroad, women who work ‘too much’ or, for some reason or another, have lost the drive or desire to be intimate with their partners. Some men told heartbreaking stories of their own search for intimacy after their partners passed away or became unwell .
While sex workers are often blamed for luring men away from their happy homes and marriages, it’s difficult to imagine a situation in which an individual service provider can be held responsible for the clients who approach them. Sex workers do not, contrary to popular belief, contact innocent husbands and entice them to stray. 
A man who elects to spend some time with a sex worker is choosing to do so of his own free will; and I would warrant a bet that most have probably thought about doing it for some time before taking the plunge. Grabbing a Mars bar at the Coles check-out is an impulse purchase — seeing a sex worker isn’t. But why step outside a marriage for a quick thrill? 
I’m not the first person to say this, but the service a sex worker offers goes far beyond the sexual... [much more]

Friday, July 27, 2018

OPP - What I Want in Bed

This is not one of my old posts, but one by Pervertically Virtuous
In the process of recovering my own old posts via email I discovered some of hers. Like me, her old accounts have been terminated, and she seems to have disappeared from the internet. This is a damn shame since I consider her one of the best sex bloggers I've ever had the chance to read and follow. I'm reposting her old posts as a historical archive, and if she ever returns to blogging I'm happy to hand them back to her.
To be clear: the copyright on this work is hers, and remains with her - I didn't write it and I make no claim to it. 

(FYI: some links in this post are dead)

Pervertically Virtuous posted: "This is a guest post by Cathy Reisenwitz of the "sex-positive, state-negative" blog Sex and the State. Cathy and I don't quite agree on the role of government in economic policies, but we definitely agree on the role of government in regulating our privat"

recovered post by Pervertically Virtuous

What I Want in Bed

by Pervertically Virtuous
in bedThis is a guest post by Cathy Reisenwitz of the "sex-positive, state-negative" blog Sex and the State. Cathy and I don't quite agree on the role of government in economic policies, but we definitely agree on the role of government in regulating our private lives and bodies. I love reading her views, even when I disagree with them. Do check her out if you haven't already.
If you're interested in guest posting on Pervertically Virtuous, please take a look at my Guest Post page and then contact me.

What I Want in Bed

Sleep! Haha, jk. I mean, yes. But this is about what I want when I have sexytimes.
I was going to call this How to Be Good in Bed. But that seemed really obnoxious. I don't know what anyone else wants. But here's what I like.
For You to Listen
I've learned not to trust someone who says they're "really good" at head, fingering, fucking. There is no one way to be really good, because everyone likes different shit. The only way to be really good at giving pleasure is to be really good at reading body language and following instructions. So get really good at reading body language and following instructions.
Here's a good example. If you see me touching myself in a certain way, either take over for me or ask me if you can. If you're not sure of something, ask me.
For You to Communicate
If I'm giving you a blowjob or touching your cock or assuming a particular position and everything I try elicits the same, muted response, that shit is hella boring. I'd imagine it's not that great for you. Whether you want to say, "That feels great," or "A little harder/faster/stronger" or just moan at different levels to indicate your preference, give me some feedback.
This is especially important for hand and blow jobs. I'm not doing it for my health. The point is to make you feel good. If I don't know I'm doing that, it defeats the purpose.
For you to Specify
Why are you having sex with me? Was I just around? If so, find something specific to compliment about me. If not, tell me why you wanted to have sex with me. Is it my perky boobs? My bubble butt? (I have neither but whatevs.) Was it my winning personality? (Don't go with that.) "You're so hot," is nice but not great. Do you remember any of those compliments? "Your flat stomach makes me want to cum," is about a million times better. You will never forget that. We all want to feel special, like our best qualities are noticed and appreciated.
That's what I like in a nutshell. What do you like? Anything in here you wouldn't want?
Cathy ReisenwitzBio: Cathy Reisenwitz is a D.C.-based writer and political commentator. She is Editor-in-Chief of Sex and the State and writes regularly for Doublethink magazine and Thoughts on Liberty. Her writing has appeared in the Washington Examiner, the Daily Caller, XOJane, the AFF Free the Future blog, The Freeman, the Individualist Feminist and Penelope Trunk's Brazen Careerist.
Pervertically Virtuous | July 27, 2013 at 3:53 pm | Tags: communication, desire, sex | Categories: Guest Post |

Tuesday, July 24, 2018

#TMITuesday: July 24, 2018 ~ Life is Hard?

How are you doing? Check yourself by playing this TMI TuesdayFree yourself. . .


1. What do you need to learn but won’t admit to?
~ My wife really has no interest in having sex with me. But I think I realized that yesterday.

2. If you could erase one event from your life, which one would you choose? Briefly describe the event, tell us why you would erase it.
~ There is one, but obviously I can't share it. It's too awful. I did a bad thing. Without malice, but regardless - it's on me.

An image I rejected for this story
3. Who drains your energy, and why do you let it happen?
~ Me. I've wasted too much time and energy trying to rekindle my sex life with my wife when she's really not interested. I guess I'm just bull headed. Hopefully I'm a little smarter now.

4. Do your practice ‘self-love’ or ‘self-loathing’?
~ Both. When I practice a little 'self love' I always loathe myself afterwards!! Hopefully I can adjust that attitude now. Half a loaf of bread is better than none at all, right?

5. What must you do daily to keep yourself ‘sane’?
~ At the moment it's masturbation, but I expect that to die down a little as I readjust to my new sex life. I'm also watching a lot of movies and documentaries on Netflix, which is what I enjoy.

Bonus: Who do you blame?
~ Well, in this post I blamed god but if I'm to be serious I don't blame anyone really. It is what it is. My life is pretty good - I've just been on a three week vacation through Europe ferchrissakes!

Double Bonus: In case you missed it, one from the archives: What's happening?
  
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How to play TMI Tuesday: Copy the above TMI Tuesday questions to your webspace (i.e., a blog). Answer the questions there, then leave a comment below, on this blog post, so we’ll all know where to read your responses. Please don’t forget to link to tmituesdayblog from your website!

Happy TMI Tuesday!

Monday, July 23, 2018

A Vacation Confession for #MasturbationMonday

So it’s been two days since I got home from my grand European vacation. Three weeks in Europe -who were experiencing a heatwave and having the best weather ever, according to locals. It was great. In the two days I’ve been back I’ve masturbated twice - once each day - which is about as much sex as I had in the three weeks I was away.

A sexy image for Monday Bun Day!
Yes, we had sex once on the cruise ship (it wasn’t good) while our daughter was sunbathing on deck during a ‘sea day’* and I also jerked off once while my wife and daughter were both sunbathing on deck during another ‘sea day’.  That also wasn’t a very satisfactory orgasm since I had to do it in a cramped toilet (bathrooms are not big on cruises ships - at least not in our cabin!) and I had no way of knowing how much time I had.

My instincts proved correct since my daughter actually did return to the cabin about two minutes after I finished my rudimentary wank.

The second to last night before the cruise finished we met a couple in a bar who we’d bumped into several times on the cruise (at that same cocktail bar). They were both previously divorced and amazed (as many people are) at how long we’ve been married (and how young we looked for our age). The woman suddenly blurted out “I meant to ask, I’ve been wondering, um, how do you guys find time to... y’know... if your daughter is sharing a cabin with you?”

She meant how did we manage to fuck while our daughter was with us 24/7 and without missing a beat my wife said “oh y’know how it is. Our daughter is 16 and all she wants to do is sunbathe on deck and hang out online with her social media friends. So it’s not really a problem”. She giggled and looked at me as she squeezed my inner thigh, indicating to the woman that we were at it like rabbits every chance we got.

Which pissed me off of course since it was the absolute opposite of what was going to. It was even more cutting to know that my wife knew sex was possible on a cruise ship even if your daughter was sharing a cabin with you, but she just wasn’t interested. My wife had rebuffed my efforts consistently, with the exception of the one time she acquiesced - which of course was not great because it was clear she was acquiescing.

But like a good husband I did not tell the other couple the truth, so that my wife could maintain her ‘Love Boat’ fantasy of being a glamorous jet set woman on an international cruise having hot and steamy sex in a new and exotic location every night. But neither did I join in on the charade. I finished my drink and told my wife I was going back to the cabin to see where our daughter was. It was midnight and we had no idea where she went after dinner. This had become the pattern in the second week, after my daughter had discovered some other ‘teenagers’ on the ship.

Our last four vacation days were spent in Barcelona (post cruise) which were mostly spent either shopping or lounging by the pool. Once again there seemed to be no interest on my wife’s part in having sex, even when my daughter said she was heading off on her own for four hours to take photos on the beach. I didn’t think that was safe but my wife insisted our daughter would be fine in an upmarket public tourist area and we needed to show her we trusted her.

I had to agree the beach was well policed and my little head over-ruled my big head. I thought my wife was so insistent because she wanted us to have sex in our very luxurious 6 star hotel room once our daughter was gone. Silly me, because as soon as she left so did my wife. Down to the pool to read her book and finish her tan.

So I stayed in the room a while longer and watched porn on my iPad. And then I filmed myself watching the porn and jerking off. You can read about that story here. It was pretty wild and I managed to film it all (including showing you what porn I was watching) without showing my face. The room had mirrors on three walls so it looked quite cinemagraphic.

So I guess that means I had sex three times in the three weeks I was away. And twice in the two days since I’ve been back. I suspect that is my lot from now on.  Masturbation.  It could be worse. At least I can still get my dick up, even if it is only for solitary pleasure. I wonder how old I’ll be when it gives up the ghost and stops working entirely?

-~o0o~-

*a sea day is when the cruise ship isn’t docked at a port and is on its way to the next destination.
This post has also been submitted to Masturbation MondayClick this link for more stories like mine!

Sunday, July 22, 2018

Carol’s Fortune Cookies

One of my discarded drafts was about an expensive Asian 'escort' in Las Vegas who was hired by high rollers to bring
them luck when they felt they weren't having any - the complete opposite of the William H Macy character in the movie
  The Cooler. But the set up was too long and I was uncomfortable with the idea of calling an Asian prostitute 'Cookie'  

I am enjoying participating in the Smut Marathon and I will continue for as long as I can. I survived Round 6 by the skin of my teeth! Luckily for me there were enough people who found it 'cute' enough to just squeak through. But there were plenty of others who found it lacking in erotica - and for good reason! I was actually on a cruise ship and wrote the story very quickly, just before the deadline. That's why there is no real sex in it - I simply ran out of time.

I'd written four drafts while on the ship, but they all spent so long in their preamble I discarded them completely. I also had no internet connection (so expensive on a ship) and it looked like I wasn't going to enter this round after all - but at 11.45pm (Dutch time) I decided 'Dammit, just do it' so I did. (The catalyst was that I'd just found my wife's log in codes - she'd bought a wifi package on the ship)

Some of the comments included:
"An amusing and cheeky story which cleverly captured the dynamics of a stale relationship, a bold wife and a slightly reluctant husband. (Been there, done that, got the t-shirt…)"~ you liked it so I agree with you! 
"I don’t think it ever works to correct your first sentence in your second: it doesn’t give me, as a reader, any confidence in the writer. I thought that having the sex ‘advice’ contained in fortune cookies was going to be contrived, but having the advice relate to Chinese food/culture took the curse off it a little. My main issue with this, though, was the almost complete absence of sex."  ~ yeah, guilty as charged about the lack of sex.  
"This definitely has potential but I found Shane’s complete turnaround from reluctant and almost sulky to tossing her around the room a bit jarring. I do like the premise for the story but I think it needs a bit if reworking so it flows better."  ~ Yes, it definitely could've been written better - especially if I gave the impression he was suddenly throwing her around the room. I should have said he stood her up at the table and led her to the sofa.  
" I love the premise of this story, and wish there was more. However, the lack of erotic action makes this feel like it was over before it started. I wish there was some more action to enjoy."  ~ Agreed. I shall do better next time ie include some actual sex, and not just allude to it! 
"Plausible scenario and the fortunes themselves were funny. I didn’t find this particularly erotic, however, and I wasn’t sure why the hen night was needed – it felt like a device you were using just to introduce the cookies and other props."  ~ It was definitely a device. I thought it was the best way to introduce the concept of novelty fortune cookies, otherwise it might seem a strange/random purchase. Fortune cookies don't normally come with sex advice/tips.

Anyway, I wrote what I wrote and finished it how I finished it. For Round 7 I promise there will be more Smut!

Below you will find my Round 6 entry. The assignment for Round 6 was 'Fortune Cookie'. Yes, it was as simple as that, giving writers free reign to write almost anything. Like some other readers I marked down entries that did not make (IMO) good enough use of the fortune cookie in their story. 


Carol’s Fortune Cookies (Entry #16)

Shane and Carol looked at their fortune cookies with a mixture of anxiety and excitement. Actually Carol was excited and Shane was anxious. His wife had come home from a ‘Hens Night’ three nights ago with a vibrator, flavoured lube, a deck of nude playing cards, and a box of Fortune Cookies with X-rated advice inside each cookie.

Carol had told her husband matter-of-factly that she wanted to spice up their sex life and try new things. She said these items would be a great icebreaker and make it all fun. Shane wasn’t so sure about that but his wife had cooked a delicious Chinese stir fry and now it was time for the Fortune Cookies.

“Let’s open them together” said Carol, “we can choose to do one or both, but we can’t choose neither”

“What if they’re stupid?” mumbled Shane, who was feeling decidedly uncomfortable at his wife’s newfound sexual aggression.

“C’mon!” scolded Carol, “it’s going to be fun – here we go, on three…”

Carol mouthed the countdown and on three they both broke open their folded cookies together. A broad grin broke over Carol’s face as she read hers, but Shane looked quite perplexed. He’d always been a bit slow on the uptake.

“What does your’s say?” asked Carole.

“Uh… um” hesitated Shane, “Confucius say: Make love like a Chinaman – fuck her fast and quick. And twenty minutes later she will be hungry for more!”

Carol burst out laughing. “Oh, we’re definitely doing that!” she quipped.

“What does yours say?” replied Shane.

“Confucius say: Sucking cock is like eating noodles. The longer you slurp the better the meal!”

“Hmmmm” mused Shane, “that sounds like foreplay before I fuck you like a Chinaman!”

Carol giggled as Shane stood up from the dining table and stepped boldly over to her chair. He pulled her up and then tossed her back onto the adjacent couch in the lounge. Standing in front of her he unbuckled his pants and let them drop to his ankles.

Twenty minutes later as they both lay on the couch spooning he asked quietly “shall we try another fortune cookie?”

Tuesday, July 17, 2018

#TMITuesday: July 17, 2018 ~ It could happen…





1. If each of your index fingers could spew a liquid for the rest of your life, what liquid(s) would it be.
~ Baileys on ice, or bourbon/whiskey. But I suppose I should be practical and make one of them spew water, since the first two wouldnt be much help if I was lost in the desert!

2. If you could talk to everyone in the world for 5 minutes, all at once, what would you say?
~ do unto others as you would have them do unto you. Seriously, if we all treated each other the same way we wanted them to treat us then a lot of problems would be solved. It really is as simple as that.

3. Would you rather not be able to eat for a week OR not be able to _____ for a month?
~ I think I would be homicidal if I couldn’t eat for week. And my wife has trained me to go without sex for a month, so....

4. What exhilarates you?
~ Not much.  Seriously, in recent years I’ve wondered if my adrenal glands have gone.

5. What is the best perk of your job? What is the best perk you have ever had at any job?
~ I worked for a magazine distributor once. Some of the titles in their roster were porn so I had to read and assess them (like the other non porn titles we distributed) as part of my job. I also had to assess titles (incl porn) who wanted us to distribute them. A lot of hardcore niche pornographers wanted us to distribute them!

Bonus: Just how naughty are you?
~ I’m naughty in mind, but not in action. Wife not up for it. We’re talking about sex right?  In my own life I don’t necessarily follow the rules. And sometimes I’ll mess with people who deserve it.

Double Bonus: In case you missed it, one from the archives: Manic Monday – Reliving 2012′s Mayhem (Part 1)
  
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How to play TMI Tuesday: Copy the above TMI Tuesday questions to your webspace (i.e., a blog). Answer the questions there, then leave a comment below, on this blog post, so we’ll all know where to read your responses. Please don’t forget to link to tmituesdayblog from your website!

Happy TMI Tuesday!

Sunday, July 15, 2018

OPP: Dr Lexi - The Party

I have discovered Alexis McCall's sex blog. I've only just started going through her posts from the beginning but I find her compelling reading. Once I've finished one post I start another - I can't stop. I still can't decide if it's real or not (and I don't mean that she's not a real doctor, she admits that herself, its just a moniker). Is it all true or just an amazing tale? Whatever, I'm enjoying the read - so much so that I want to give you just a few excerpts as I work my way through it all.

Just to give you a taste of her journey I'll compile some excerpts by category - this one is 'Interracial', a genre my wife enjoys reading. This story struck me so much I've excerpted all three parts - if this doesn't get you reading her blog I don't know what will! To see Lexi's complete journey click here.


The Party
July 15, 2015

It has taken me several days to write this post because I’m still not sure what to think about it. I wish this was a happier hotwife BBC (Big Black Cock) experience but I’m not sure if that is how I really feel. I’m not sure it isn’t though either. I really don’t know what it is.

Something happened to me that was not right in my mind. I didn’t realize that until Jill and I began comparing notes on Monday when we both realized our notes were full of holes.

I am not saying we were drugged. We probably weren’t, but I’m not sure of that either. What I am sure of is that part of my afternoon is missing. I am not saying that I don’t know what I did, but I am saying what I did is not clear in my mind like it normally is.

Yes, Jill and I were probably already drunk when we showed up to the party. With me it was nerves. I knew why I was there and why Michael wanted me there. I was there for a BBC experience with a man I met at the party on Friday night that made no excuses for why he was having the party on Sunday afternoon.

I’m not going to try and convince anyone I haven’t done stupid shit in my life, but I am telling you Sunday afternoon was a different experience.

When we arrived, there was a uniformed valet that took my car which led Jill and I to believe the party was much larger than it was. We were greeted at the door by our host who was trailed by a uniformed server who had two frozen drinks on his tray that looked like a blueberry daiquiri. Our host was drinking one and he proposed a toast to “women who enjoy the exploration of their bodies by men who want to unlock their secret passions.” I remember that clearly.

Who wouldn’t drink to that toast? That’s why Jill and I were there. Twenty minutes later I didn’t remember where I was for sure but wherever I was it didn’t matter. I didn’t care. Everything was right in Lexi’s world. I was on a sun pad on my back naked. I was watching Jill have sex with two men on a different sun pad. I think it was a different sun pad anyway. I’m not sure.

I only remember a couple of things about the man that was standing over her with his body plugged into her. He was wearing a huge gold necklace, diamond stud earrings and a gold Rolex watch. Jill was making a lot of noise. Seriously!

I wasn’t focused on what Jill was doing though, I was having weird thoughts about her shoes. She was wearing white squared heeled patent leather pumps and the heels were pointed up at the ceiling. I remember wondering who made that shoe, how much she paid for them and what size they were. Shoe size is not a conversation Jill and I have ever had so I was curious about that.

What is even stranger is that while I was wondering about her shoes our host was doing oral sex to me.

A millisecond later I had a huge black snake invade my body like never before, and that was that. I lost control of my body’s ability to think, to respond, and even breathe. I became nothing more than an extension of his body for what seemed like an eternity. I became his vessel. I have no idea how many men had sex with me at that party or how many times. My body probably knows but my mind doesn’t. It was a lot though. I am sure about that! I was in an emotional place I have never been, experiencing sex in a way I never have.

There was something else going on though. My thinking was fucked up and I still don’t know if it was a combination of alcohol and emotional stimulus that was experiencing maximum overload, or if we were drugged. Sex was pretty continuous. It just went on and on. First outside by the pool on a sun pad at the same time as Jill, then in a bedroom with African motif, then in a different bedroom with paintings of lions and tigers and sculptures of stuff. I didn’t know what it was and specifically remember thinking that I really didn’t give a shit.

That is not like me to have thoughts like that. There was nothing wrong with my motor skills but at times, I wondered if this was really me. I could walk fine even wearing stiletto heeled shoes walking from bedroom to bedroom and back out to the lanai then back to a bedroom with someone else.

It was the first time in my life I have ever been in the same place as other women having sex at the same time. When I wasn’t having sex I was sitting in a chaise drinking vodka and watching two blondes in the pool have sex with several men. 
I didn’t give a shit about any of it. I was just there. My body belonged to whichever man was penetrating me at the time.

Eventually Jill came and got me and told me it was time to go. We found our clothes got dressed and left. It was dark but I remember not giving a shit what time it was.

Jill and I had a somewhat meaningless conversation on the short drive back to my house once I convinced her I was ok to drive. I told her I was tired and wanted to go to bed and didn’t feel like talking and that was that. I told her I would call her in the morning and when I did, that is when she suggested to me may that we may have been drugged.

Monday morning Jill and I began to compare notes and we both realized there was a lot of missing detail. She suggested we may have been drugged, but I felt OK and she felt OK.

I thought that when women were given date rape drugs they could barely move. She said no, but she’s never been drugged before and neither have I. I guess in some ways I have led a sheltered life. She asked me how many women were there. I said three blonde and a redhead. She said there was a woman we never saw pulling the train in one of the bedrooms. I never saw any of that, or at least don’t remember seeing any of it

She asked me how many men were there. I had no idea. I guessed ten. She said there were a lot more than that but she didn’t know either because a lot of them were coming and going from one bedroom. That is why there was confusion about how many men were there. The train puller evidently had an audience. She asked me how many men had sex with me. That was a jackpot question and I didn’t know the answer but had been trying my best to figure it out.

The best I could remember for sure was Jim, out on the lanai, my first. Then there were two men with me in the bigger bedroom, and then two men with me in the smaller bedroom later. I am aware that I had sex with all of them

She shook her head. She told me that we both had sex with two men out on the sun pad before we were taken to separate bedrooms.

She said later we were sitting next to each other out by the pool. I told her I remembered me being there but not her. She said I asked about her shoes. I remembered thinking about her shoes while she was fucking, but I don’t remember talking to her.

“Was there a cock in me when I asked about your shoes?”

“No, we were drinking vodka.” Jill said.

By then I was pretty convinced that there was something in the blue drink we had when we first got there and that seriously pisses me off. I told Jill she was probably right and asked her what we should do about it.

“There is nothing we can do Alexis. We can’t prove one thing. We weren’t raped. It was a sex party. We knew that. It was consensual sex. We weren’t harmed. Maybe it was just supposed to calm us down. I don’t know, and don’t know how to find out.”

I thought about that. She was right. I didn’t know either.

“What are you going to tell Michael?”
See the entire blog here © Alexis McCall

Saturday, July 14, 2018

OPP: #SoSS - Saturday July 14 @PosyChurchgate @More_Matters

Image from May More © Oral Sex - My Journey To Enjoyment
Warning: this and other images in her post may induce arousal*

The #SoSS meme is a roundup of favourite blogs I’ve visited this week. In order not to duplicate what others have done for #SoSS (Share Our Shit Saturday) (or Sunday if you forget/run out of time) I’m going to give you links to some of their older stuff - because I think their complete blogs are worth reading. Click the links for the full stories, because these are just excerpts.

Mookie Spitz
 ~  "The Story of My Sexless Marriage"

Mookie has written a post that I was sorely tempted to excerpt in full (but I haven't). It's almost like he's describing my life at times. Almost but not quite - my wife is nowhere as bad as his!  I think he got a pretty raw deal, but he tells it in a humorous way: 
I knew my wife would never have sex with me. We’d play the same predictable game each week: me asking, her rejecting. Having a headache couldn’t work forever, so her denials became increasingly creative and conditional, leading to a series of excuses progressively more obnoxious and absurd.

At first she refused to make love because our apartment was too messy. After I finally managed to clean up, my wife’s next excuse was the bed. Was it too small? No. Was it too big? No. Was it too soft, too hard, too high, too low? No, no, no, no — then what, for chrissakes? She couldn’t or wouldn’t say. She simply didn’t like the bed. So we bought a new one. Was it any different? I couldn’t tell. Neither could she, apparently, because she still wouldn’t put out.

The switch perked her up, but the happier she got, the less inclined she remained. I had done everything she’d asked no matter how ridiculous, and her excuses were running out. Amazing how otherwise unimaginative people instantly become creative to avoid doing what they don’t like, necessity indeed the mother of invention, or in this case the engine of marital misery.

So she cunningly shifted from domesticity to biology, terrified of getting pregnant again. Birth control pills upset her, condoms could break, other planning methods proved too risky. Our only solution was to indefinitely forgo sexual intercourse. Maybe we could have sex again after the kids went to college, she explained, when she became menopausal, and I finally gave up.

Before you dismiss me as another sexist male, Neanderthal chauvinist, or pre-#MeToo asshole, allow me to assert that back in the day I tried: Flowers, date nights, candlelit dinners, breakfasts in bed, home improvement projects, investment plans, shopping sprees, Louis Vuitton bags, kid sitting weekends. Was I an awesome husband? No. Was I an abusive prick? Not by any stretch
... [much more]

Posy Churchgate ~ Under My Thumb

I've shared Posy's stuff here on #SoSS a few times, so no introduction should be necessary. Her blog is always great so check it out. I chose this post because she comes close to describing what I think is why my wife won't let me act out the dark fantasies I know she has (based on her erotic reading). Also she's recommended a few blogs and since I'm still on vacation that doesn't hurt either, does it? :
I test drive all my sex toys solo - I choose them myself and I try them out when I’m alone. If I like them and feel that my OH can be trusted with them, then I introduce him to the toys and how to use them.  (He almost always says “O my good gawd!” before rising to the occasion and indulging me - although I often suspect he feels intimidated by them!) There! - that was another giveaway! I said if I ‘feel he can be trusted with them’. Analysis of that is : I don’t want to put him in charge of my pain! Perhaps this means I’m not confident he will pick up on the signals that something hurts too much or feels overwhelming, resulting in me not only feeling the opposite of sexy, but also feeling very angry with him. 
Dom/Domme Blogs I enjoy reading:http://carasutra.com/https://jerusalemmortimer.com/http://painaspleasure.com/https://flossdoeslife.com/

Submissive / Poly Life Blogs I enjoy reading:http://submissiveheart.co.uk/https://melodyinsights.com/https://submissy.com/https://kaylalords.com/2015/08/loving-bdsm-a-podcast-is-born/http://victoriablisse.co.uk/  [much more]

May More ~ If Sex Matters - "Nudity, Shadows, and Copyright"

May is another blogger who needs ni introduction. I was going to use this post as reference for one of my own on the same subject but unfortunately I ran out of time before heading out on a long vacation. I have some responses of my own I want to make, but for now I'll just give you an excerpt of May's post:

A law that would mean people in the UK would have to prove they are 18 before being allowed to access pornography websites, has thankfully been postponed. (Let’s just remember that in the UK you can legally have sex at 16 – but apparently not watch it!). 
Such a piece of legislation would cause all kinds of complications. If verification requires the person to enter bank card details this will inevitably open the door to problems such as fraud. Not to mention the cost to sites in implementing the necessary software. Now, however, we are being threatened with another law from the EU that will open the door to mass internet censorship – taking us away from the open world wide web we have all enjoyed for the last 20 years. 'Article 13' wishes to enforce strict rules on copyright. Anything that may technically be seen as a breach of copyright – such as memes, and other types of user-generated content – would all be at risk. It is also possible a “tax” on links may be enforced.
Another thing to consider is that by putting the necessary code in place to abide by these rules, everything we post will be spied upon – so a decision can be made as to whether it should be censored or not. 
A further problem with Article 13 is that it makes no exceptions for fair use (a legal concept that allows the reproduction of copyrighted material for certain purposes without obtaining permission) – a foundation of the internet.

It’s a very sad state of affairs that we are not left to use our own critical thinking skills to choose what we wish to view. I am more than capable of working this out without the need for default filters and blocks, to protect me and my family. I don’t need to be told what is good for us. As a capable individual, I can... [much more]

Friday, July 13, 2018

#BlackFriday - Nicki Minaj can knock on my door anytime she likes! 🔥

via Instagram 

@nickiminaj can knock on my door anytime she likes! 🔥 
#FetishFriday or #SinfulSunday - I don't care!
I'm not sure why she’d want to - but dreams are free 😜 

#babe #booty🍑 #stockings #corset #strongandsexy #nickiminaj #SinfulSunday #FetishFriday

Thursday, July 12, 2018

#TBT - A Big Black Cock For Saturday Night (Redux)

This is a re-edit of a post originally published on Saturday, January 25, 2014.

She was curled up on the sofa, with her iPad, and I knew she was reading porn erotica.  I knelt down in front of her and lifted her skirt.

"What are you doing?" she asked, surprised. 
"I'm going to eat your pussy" I replied, as I pulled at her panties. 

She protested, but at the same time lifted her hips so I could pull her knickers off completely. I flicked her skirt up over her hips and ran my hands along her inner thighs, pushing them apart gently. I spread her legs as she put her iPad down and settled back, making herself comfy.

"No, that's okay" I said, as I handed her back her iPad "you can keep reading while I lick you".

Lately (2018) my Twitter feed has been full of BBC clips.
By god, they're enormous - bigger than this guy - and
usually they have some petite blond white girl speared!
It was like giving candy to a five year old - a big grin burst across her face as she opened her iPad and went back to her story. I lowered my head and started kissing and nibbling her pussy. She smelled great and tasted even better. She had one hand on my head and the other held her iPad, as I went to town downtown. I knew she was enjoying it immensely because she started moaning and grinding her cunt against my face, rolling her pussy to ensure my tongue found the sweet spot.

I was also enjoying it, but still managed to laugh (inside) as I felt her hand move from my head, to scroll/swipe down a page on her iPad, and then move back to my head to push me deeper and harder into her sopping wet pussy - before lifting it from my head to change to a new page on her iPad. She was definitely reading her dirty stories as I tongue fucked her clit!

Very quickly she was cumming, dropping her iPad and using both hands to hold my head as she bucked and rolled against my face. Her back arched steeply, before slumping back into the sofa.

"My turn now" I winked, as I stood up, dropped my pants, and settled down beside her on the sofa. I took her iPad from her and opened a new browser tab, typing in 'YouPorn'. As I waited for it to open I switched our TV to the Apple TV input (this streams what's on your iPad onto the TV). It had long been a fantasy of mine (expressed elsewhere on this blog previously) to have my wife kneel before me and suck my cock while I watched porn.

But even though my wife has no problem reading porn, she's not so comfortable watching it - or, more correctly - me watching it. So I figured the smart thing was to pick something she might like (duh) - so I typed 'black cock' into the search box (since I knew those were the type of stories she'd been reading on Literotica). Within seconds we were watching a handsome young African American with a long thick cock banging a buxom brunette who was clearly loving it. My wife was smiling as she stared intently at the screen, and she started rubbing her pussy as the action unfolded.

"Are you going to blow me?" I asked with a wink, foolishly thinking she might reciprocate the oral I'd just performed on her. 

"Nah, you do it" she said, placing my hand on my own cock "make it nice 'n hard for me".

Oh...   Okay...   Alrighty then...

I could see someone was feeling a little selfish tonight. That kinda killed the mood for me, but we watched two more clips - both of which weren't as good as the first one. That's the problem with YouPorn - the viewer ratings system is completely corrupt and even crap vids have 90% approval scores. I put on a fourth (and final) clip and told her to mount me as I sat on the sofa, watching the porn.

She impaled herself on me, in the reverse position so she could keep watching the screen, but in the process blocking me from seeing anything! My fantasy had turned to farce but -hey!- she was riding my dick and it felt good. She was wet from her previous orgasm but tight as fuck, tighter than normal, and she bounced up and down on my stiff cock as she fingered her clit - staring at the Big Black Cock on the screen.

I probably came within 3 minutes of her riding me (she was that tight, and my balls were that blue). It was a super intense orgasm for me. As soon as I came she hopped off, gave me a kiss, and…

…went back to her iPad!

WTF!