Damn... you've got to hear the audio posted here (Wednesday, 26 November)... Michelle and Mike... now that's some sex on the phone... maybe soon we'll see them, streaming over the internet? A chance to see Michelle get whopped by Mike, her ass getting redder with each slap, the whimpers from her mouth, the heaving chest, the glazed-over eyes, the full desire... ah, we can only imagine...
Listen up...
Saturday, November 29
Karaoke... no matter where you are...
So, here I am miles away from Osaka's... went with my siblings out to karaoke bar tonight after the children and the 'rents had gone down for the night... only stayed a bit over an hour-and-a-half... mild time; we're all too old now & never really partied together, anyway...
So, there I am in this other bar... sure, the set up was different and the singers different and the food -- well, the spicy chicken tenders weren't anything like Osaka's -- but the music was the same and, amazingly, the skin was the same... there's something about the current fashion that I just adore: women wearing low-rise jeans and high rise, tight blouses. Why the hell wasn't this in fashion when I was 21?
Here we are, the weekend following Thanksgiving... college students are home; I can remember coming home from Ohio and hooking up with my buds from Bernard's, and we'd go out and drink too much and make fools of ourselves while telling lies about how much we were getting laid at college... well, there tonight, was a host of college students, mostly women (at least the ones I noticed) and they were getting all buzzed and flirting around... and I know there'll be some sex tonight... even as I write this -- with my one beer buzz -- I know that within miles from here, all those nubile young woman are getting down and dirty with their male friends or their fuck buddies or the guys they picked up at the bar. Low rise jeans are coming off, sliding down smooth legs in the cramped space of Asian imported cars. Guys are pushing the seats as far back as possible, climbing onto the floor, pulling aside thong underwear, and licking wet pussies. I just know it's going on.
There was one hot brunette who had on low rise jeans (a damn rise of not more than 6 inches, I swear) and a top that came down just inches below her pert, firm breasts, leaving a good 8 inches of firm, tan belly showing. By the time we left, she was looking pretty buzzed and horny, rubbing up against the folks in her group, boys and girls alike. I can imagine her, back at her parent's place in the furnished basement with a group of her friends. The lights are low, and the group of them is sitting around finishing the multiple six-backs of long necks they bought from the bar. They're yapping about something, and she's getting flustered and hot; she reaches out to the guy beside her, an old friend from high school. She touches his thighs and then turns her head to kiss him. Soon, they're making out in plain view; she's too drunk to care and he's too hot to care. He caresses her tight stomach, tracing the muscle lines from the top of her jeans to the bottom of her shirt; his hand becomes bolder, moving higher and moving lower with each trace. Soon, he's copping a feel of her breasts and tracing the lines of her cunt lips through the fabric while their friends from high school look on, beer buzzes making comprehension slow.
Yes, I know it's going on... I just wish I were there...
So, there I am in this other bar... sure, the set up was different and the singers different and the food -- well, the spicy chicken tenders weren't anything like Osaka's -- but the music was the same and, amazingly, the skin was the same... there's something about the current fashion that I just adore: women wearing low-rise jeans and high rise, tight blouses. Why the hell wasn't this in fashion when I was 21?
Here we are, the weekend following Thanksgiving... college students are home; I can remember coming home from Ohio and hooking up with my buds from Bernard's, and we'd go out and drink too much and make fools of ourselves while telling lies about how much we were getting laid at college... well, there tonight, was a host of college students, mostly women (at least the ones I noticed) and they were getting all buzzed and flirting around... and I know there'll be some sex tonight... even as I write this -- with my one beer buzz -- I know that within miles from here, all those nubile young woman are getting down and dirty with their male friends or their fuck buddies or the guys they picked up at the bar. Low rise jeans are coming off, sliding down smooth legs in the cramped space of Asian imported cars. Guys are pushing the seats as far back as possible, climbing onto the floor, pulling aside thong underwear, and licking wet pussies. I just know it's going on.
There was one hot brunette who had on low rise jeans (a damn rise of not more than 6 inches, I swear) and a top that came down just inches below her pert, firm breasts, leaving a good 8 inches of firm, tan belly showing. By the time we left, she was looking pretty buzzed and horny, rubbing up against the folks in her group, boys and girls alike. I can imagine her, back at her parent's place in the furnished basement with a group of her friends. The lights are low, and the group of them is sitting around finishing the multiple six-backs of long necks they bought from the bar. They're yapping about something, and she's getting flustered and hot; she reaches out to the guy beside her, an old friend from high school. She touches his thighs and then turns her head to kiss him. Soon, they're making out in plain view; she's too drunk to care and he's too hot to care. He caresses her tight stomach, tracing the muscle lines from the top of her jeans to the bottom of her shirt; his hand becomes bolder, moving higher and moving lower with each trace. Soon, he's copping a feel of her breasts and tracing the lines of her cunt lips through the fabric while their friends from high school look on, beer buzzes making comprehension slow.
Yes, I know it's going on... I just wish I were there...
Thursday, November 27
A sexless Thanksgiving...
At my parents' home... no sex here... Jane remains back in Durham... we IM'd earlier this evening; her last message was that she was going to finger herself to sleep; the baby is kicking up a storm, but she'll flog herself mightly and push herself over the edge. That's my girl.
Meanwhile, I'll head to bed shortly, stuffed in a closet of room at my parents' home; somehow when growing up the room seemed so much bigger. Not even a chance to wank for me, as my children are in that room, too, the house here taking on a bulging-at-the-seams sort of life with siblings and nieces and nephews running around. At least there's much to be thankful for...
Meanwhile, I'll head to bed shortly, stuffed in a closet of room at my parents' home; somehow when growing up the room seemed so much bigger. Not even a chance to wank for me, as my children are in that room, too, the house here taking on a bulging-at-the-seams sort of life with siblings and nieces and nephews running around. At least there's much to be thankful for...
We men are going to be put out of business...
Okay, the sybian was one thing, but this one is on the way to FDA approval!
Tuesday, November 25
Just how pure (or not pure) am I?
| Your Ultimate Purity Score Is... | ||
| Category | Your Score | Average |
| Self-Lovin' | 26.7% When I think about you - or anyone - I touch myself | 65.1% |
| Shamelessness | 64.3% It takes a couple of drinks | 79.3% |
| Sex Drive | 34.2% I got needs, baby, you gotta unnastan'! | 77.7% |
| Straightness | 0% Knows the other body type like a map | 45.1% |
| Gayness | 100% | 83.3% |
| Fucking Sick | 61.1% Dipped into depravity | 89.9% |
| You are 47.06% pure Average Score: 72.6% | ||
Monday, November 24
Bar Haikus
While at Osaka's...
Storm waging, wind whips
a plenty. Inside: smoke, lights;
girl across the way.
My girl casts spell of evil.
Penis drops to ground.
Manhood gone. Depression now.
Storm waging, wind whips
a plenty. Inside: smoke, lights;
girl across the way.
My girl casts spell of evil.
Penis drops to ground.
Manhood gone. Depression now.
Sunday, November 23
Sex, sex, sex... no sex
Sunday, a bit before noon. Back in training: how to deal with suicidal idiots. Okay, I'm over-the-top... Dee is here, bright and chipper, a smile to melt all. Drafting this as the instructor rolls on...
North Carolina Life last night over in Winston-Salem. Long drive over -- well, two hours or so, anyway. Long only in that after a full day of stuff, it's long. Interesting evening there... First off, I didn't wet my wick or my fingers. Yes, some 50 swingers, and I didn't get to even feel a wet pussy.
I'd been thinking, recently, that in order to be physically intimate with someone, I need some empathy or a connection. There needs to be something, some emotive string or connection with the person. Looking back over my life, most intimate relationships -- even short ones -- have had an emotional link, a connection. My participation in true one night stands has been remarkably, er, nil... well, nearly... ;-) Sure, I've had one or two one night stands that haven't had emotional content. And some relationships have perhaps started as a one nighter, but they gained connection and emotional content.
Earlier this week, it become clear to me Jane did not like that I establish emotional content -- or an emotional connection -- with fuck buddies. She didn't mind the fact I boffed Anne last month at NCL. She did mind that I had some feelings involved with the act and had (or wanted) a connection with Anne. I didn't want much; hell, I like Sam & wouldn't want to get in the way. But I want more than, "Hi, Anne. Meet my penis." In light of this, I'd decided I wouldn't sleep with Anne at NCL.
What happened was bigger than this little decision. Somehow, I blocked all emotion. I didn't get hard the entire night (aside from the obligatory let's-kick-off-the-night-in-our-room-time with Jane and the lets-end-with-a-bang-in-our-room with Jane; nothing else. Nil. Nadda. Flacid and shrunken the entire damn night).
Highlights of the night:
(1) In an open room on the floor with Jane and Sam and Anne and some nameless guy. I was nibbling on Jane's left breast while Sam was on her right breast and fingering her. Next to us on the bed, Anne and the other guy were playing. Anne at a moment of orgasm, "Oh, he's so good. We'll keep him." At one point, Same said to Anne and him, a loud and authoritarian voice stealing the stillness from the room, "Hands only." That didn't last. Then it was, "Oral only." Pretty soon they were on the floor, fucking like the horny deviants they were. It was clear to me that Sam was no longer in charge, if he'd ever been.
Nothing like a union man getting slapped down by his wife.
I so wanted to be with Anne. To slide into her sweetness. To lick her. To taste her. To cum and think of nothing else but her vixen smile. I didn't.
(2) In a darkened room on the floor... the grope room. I enter and see a woman on the bed, a man between her legs, head buried. I stood for a beat or two and then asked if I could join in. He said, "It's up to the lady." She said, "Sure." I got down on the bed and began to caress her shoulders. I moved her long, black hair aside and nuzzled against her neck, her ears, her shoulders... my hands slighting around her petite body, rubbing her tiny breasts. She trembled as the other man slurped and licked and sucked. I moved the spaghetti straps over her arms to gain access to her pert breasts. I nibbled and licked, tasting new skin.
(3) Dancing in the disco room -- 50s/60s pop -- with Joanne. Enthusiasm. Room cold; dancing creating heat. Joanne removed her top, and she and I and her husband and Maryanne all danced hard, an audience of a dozen watching voyeuristicly. Must have been her breasts. I removed my flannel pants, leaving me in a t-shirt and boxer shorts. Not as exciting.
... Like all NCL events, this one had a theme: Fantasy Life. My fantasy involved Krispy Kreme donuts and a woman eating a donut from my donut holder. No takers. I spent the night wearing a KKD t-shirt & boxer shorts; for much of the night, I carried a box of a dozen glazed donuts. No takers on the eating-the-donuts-from-the-special-holder, but I did become universally known as the "donut man." Not since a job in college walking the residence halls at Kenyon have I been The Donut Man.
The whole night, I wasn't aroused at all. I was jaded. I watched Maryanne and her well hung husband make love in the "camping room." She was atop him, and I was watching her fine and shapely ass ride up and down, his thick prick filling her pussy, juices dripping down his cock, wetness even in the soft light. I could imagine being him or joining them -- but I had not arousal. Nothing. No hardness. In the grope room, the woman reached for me. Nothing. Flacid. No matter what.
I turned in around 1am. Jane wanted to cuddle; I wanted to sleep since we had to be on the road around 6am so I could get back to suicide class. But, I did cuddle with her, albeit I wasn't fully enthusiastic about it. We scrumped, me ending atop her, just the head of my cock inside her. She wanted me fully; I wouldn't do it as I didn't want to hurt her; the doc hasn't cleared her. Even what I did was against the doc's counsel. I came in her, my hand on my cock to make sure I didn't plow into her; I could feel the cum pulsing through my cock as I came. Then I went to sleep.
This morning, I found out Jane went back out for a couple of hours. She ended up in the dungeon, chained to the cross, being whipped by Maryanne while Sam licked her & ate her out... and Anne gave Sam a blow job.
I would have liked to have been there.
Do you think I would have gotten hard?
North Carolina Life last night over in Winston-Salem. Long drive over -- well, two hours or so, anyway. Long only in that after a full day of stuff, it's long. Interesting evening there... First off, I didn't wet my wick or my fingers. Yes, some 50 swingers, and I didn't get to even feel a wet pussy.
I'd been thinking, recently, that in order to be physically intimate with someone, I need some empathy or a connection. There needs to be something, some emotive string or connection with the person. Looking back over my life, most intimate relationships -- even short ones -- have had an emotional link, a connection. My participation in true one night stands has been remarkably, er, nil... well, nearly... ;-) Sure, I've had one or two one night stands that haven't had emotional content. And some relationships have perhaps started as a one nighter, but they gained connection and emotional content.
Earlier this week, it become clear to me Jane did not like that I establish emotional content -- or an emotional connection -- with fuck buddies. She didn't mind the fact I boffed Anne last month at NCL. She did mind that I had some feelings involved with the act and had (or wanted) a connection with Anne. I didn't want much; hell, I like Sam & wouldn't want to get in the way. But I want more than, "Hi, Anne. Meet my penis." In light of this, I'd decided I wouldn't sleep with Anne at NCL.
What happened was bigger than this little decision. Somehow, I blocked all emotion. I didn't get hard the entire night (aside from the obligatory let's-kick-off-the-night-in-our-room-time with Jane and the lets-end-with-a-bang-in-our-room with Jane; nothing else. Nil. Nadda. Flacid and shrunken the entire damn night).
Highlights of the night:
(1) In an open room on the floor with Jane and Sam and Anne and some nameless guy. I was nibbling on Jane's left breast while Sam was on her right breast and fingering her. Next to us on the bed, Anne and the other guy were playing. Anne at a moment of orgasm, "Oh, he's so good. We'll keep him." At one point, Same said to Anne and him, a loud and authoritarian voice stealing the stillness from the room, "Hands only." That didn't last. Then it was, "Oral only." Pretty soon they were on the floor, fucking like the horny deviants they were. It was clear to me that Sam was no longer in charge, if he'd ever been.
Nothing like a union man getting slapped down by his wife.
I so wanted to be with Anne. To slide into her sweetness. To lick her. To taste her. To cum and think of nothing else but her vixen smile. I didn't.
(2) In a darkened room on the floor... the grope room. I enter and see a woman on the bed, a man between her legs, head buried. I stood for a beat or two and then asked if I could join in. He said, "It's up to the lady." She said, "Sure." I got down on the bed and began to caress her shoulders. I moved her long, black hair aside and nuzzled against her neck, her ears, her shoulders... my hands slighting around her petite body, rubbing her tiny breasts. She trembled as the other man slurped and licked and sucked. I moved the spaghetti straps over her arms to gain access to her pert breasts. I nibbled and licked, tasting new skin.
(3) Dancing in the disco room -- 50s/60s pop -- with Joanne. Enthusiasm. Room cold; dancing creating heat. Joanne removed her top, and she and I and her husband and Maryanne all danced hard, an audience of a dozen watching voyeuristicly. Must have been her breasts. I removed my flannel pants, leaving me in a t-shirt and boxer shorts. Not as exciting.
... Like all NCL events, this one had a theme: Fantasy Life. My fantasy involved Krispy Kreme donuts and a woman eating a donut from my donut holder. No takers. I spent the night wearing a KKD t-shirt & boxer shorts; for much of the night, I carried a box of a dozen glazed donuts. No takers on the eating-the-donuts-from-the-special-holder, but I did become universally known as the "donut man." Not since a job in college walking the residence halls at Kenyon have I been The Donut Man.
The whole night, I wasn't aroused at all. I was jaded. I watched Maryanne and her well hung husband make love in the "camping room." She was atop him, and I was watching her fine and shapely ass ride up and down, his thick prick filling her pussy, juices dripping down his cock, wetness even in the soft light. I could imagine being him or joining them -- but I had not arousal. Nothing. No hardness. In the grope room, the woman reached for me. Nothing. Flacid. No matter what.
I turned in around 1am. Jane wanted to cuddle; I wanted to sleep since we had to be on the road around 6am so I could get back to suicide class. But, I did cuddle with her, albeit I wasn't fully enthusiastic about it. We scrumped, me ending atop her, just the head of my cock inside her. She wanted me fully; I wouldn't do it as I didn't want to hurt her; the doc hasn't cleared her. Even what I did was against the doc's counsel. I came in her, my hand on my cock to make sure I didn't plow into her; I could feel the cum pulsing through my cock as I came. Then I went to sleep.
This morning, I found out Jane went back out for a couple of hours. She ended up in the dungeon, chained to the cross, being whipped by Maryanne while Sam licked her & ate her out... and Anne gave Sam a blow job.
I would have liked to have been there.
Do you think I would have gotten hard?
Saturday, November 22
Horoscopes... peace & stability...
Jane's horoscope:
A partner for life or a brief encounter. Which will it be? This is the question of the day. Why not choose both? Can't you imagine being your partner's lover and also simultaneously keeping your independence? Don't let yourself be influenced by old models that force you to choose between two ideas. Don't forget that in our modern world, your choices aren't as limited as you might think they are!
My horoscope:
The day ahead won't be easy. A glimpse of your love life reveals that you'll be bridling at certain inhibitions. You long for peace and stability, and at the moment everything is in suspense in that department. Use the day ahead to gain some perspective on the situation. Until the ice melts and the flow of events resumes, why not devote your energy to some other endeavor?
Thought these were somewhat intriguing, particularly since we head over to Winston-Salem tonight for NCL. I'd already decided I wouldn't play with Anne, although her sweet taste remains on my tongue a month after our first encounter.
Yes, I long for peace and stability. I long for quietness and togetherness. My fantasy, after last NCL, is to bang Anne, and then just cuddle with her, nestled in quietness and peace. I imagine it with Ginger, the karaoke singer, or Dee, the classy-booted firefighter. Peace and stability.
A partner for life or a brief encounter. Which will it be? This is the question of the day. Why not choose both? Can't you imagine being your partner's lover and also simultaneously keeping your independence? Don't let yourself be influenced by old models that force you to choose between two ideas. Don't forget that in our modern world, your choices aren't as limited as you might think they are!
My horoscope:
The day ahead won't be easy. A glimpse of your love life reveals that you'll be bridling at certain inhibitions. You long for peace and stability, and at the moment everything is in suspense in that department. Use the day ahead to gain some perspective on the situation. Until the ice melts and the flow of events resumes, why not devote your energy to some other endeavor?
Thought these were somewhat intriguing, particularly since we head over to Winston-Salem tonight for NCL. I'd already decided I wouldn't play with Anne, although her sweet taste remains on my tongue a month after our first encounter.
Yes, I long for peace and stability. I long for quietness and togetherness. My fantasy, after last NCL, is to bang Anne, and then just cuddle with her, nestled in quietness and peace. I imagine it with Ginger, the karaoke singer, or Dee, the classy-booted firefighter. Peace and stability.
Other women… and my cum loving friend…
Last night at Osaka’s, a girl in a red sweater struck my fancy. Ginger. She sang a plaintive song; I don’t remember what it was. Perhaps that’s because I’d been drinking. But I do remember some things. The mirror behind her showed flesh, the sweater creeping up, jeans hugging her hips, long brown hair; she was very pretty, a wide smile even behind the microphone. A thin voice; more of a looker than a singer.
At crisis intervention training today for my volunteer work, arrived late from National Guard responsibilities early in the morning (hung over when I rolled out of the rack at o’dark thirty). In uniform – looks from my fellow volunteers as I clomp in wearing the green uniform and big, black boots. There’s a girl in front of me when I settled in – a brush of flesh, again. A hint of light blue underwear rising up from under the jeans. She turns toward me, and I am struck by her smile, bright eyes, soft features.
For both of these women, I wonder. What would it be like? Ginger, the karaoke singer… to wrap my arms around her waist, to lift up the sweater & toss it aside, and to ravish her breasts. She’s young – maybe 22 or 23. In my mind, her breasts are firm and perky, the nipples pointy. Like her personality. When she sang, even with her thin voice, she had personality. Some people sing as if they are grounded to the floor; they grasp the mike tightly like a life ring to a drowning man; they stare up at the screen which flashes the words. They are robots. She, on the other hand, bounced, smiled, and sparkled. Her hips swayed, and I could imagine her astride me, her enthusiasm overwhelming me. That she couldn’t sing, ah, who cared?
And this second woman, Dee. I’ve met her before. I’d wondered then. What would it be like to hold her head in my hands, to bring her soft face to mine, to kiss her pale lips, to stare into her hazel eyes and fall in. At lunch, I am entranced by her boots, 2-1/2 inch heels which on many women would clunk. But on her, they’re graceful. Must come from years of pulling hose (she’s a firefighter… but doesn’t look like most burly firefighters I know) – grace under any pressure.
Last night, Jane and I arrived home. I’d had too much to drink & my heat hurt. We ended up in bed, naked, Jane’s newly enlarged, cantaloupe-sized breasts smothering me. She got atop of me, my cock riding along her slit, wet with her juices. She started to moan, a guttural sound, my cock touching her clit as she rode along. “There,” she said. “There.” And she went over the edge, eyes closed, a wisp passing her pursed lips. She’s got her’s, finally. She rested, giggling that I hadn’t gotten mine. I got on my knees over her, and I placed my hard cock in her wet mouth and pumped. Then I pulled out and stroked with my hand, finally coming over her face, my cum on her cheeks, nose, and forehead. I fell to the bed, content and spent, my cum-loving friend next to me.
At crisis intervention training today for my volunteer work, arrived late from National Guard responsibilities early in the morning (hung over when I rolled out of the rack at o’dark thirty). In uniform – looks from my fellow volunteers as I clomp in wearing the green uniform and big, black boots. There’s a girl in front of me when I settled in – a brush of flesh, again. A hint of light blue underwear rising up from under the jeans. She turns toward me, and I am struck by her smile, bright eyes, soft features.
For both of these women, I wonder. What would it be like? Ginger, the karaoke singer… to wrap my arms around her waist, to lift up the sweater & toss it aside, and to ravish her breasts. She’s young – maybe 22 or 23. In my mind, her breasts are firm and perky, the nipples pointy. Like her personality. When she sang, even with her thin voice, she had personality. Some people sing as if they are grounded to the floor; they grasp the mike tightly like a life ring to a drowning man; they stare up at the screen which flashes the words. They are robots. She, on the other hand, bounced, smiled, and sparkled. Her hips swayed, and I could imagine her astride me, her enthusiasm overwhelming me. That she couldn’t sing, ah, who cared?
And this second woman, Dee. I’ve met her before. I’d wondered then. What would it be like to hold her head in my hands, to bring her soft face to mine, to kiss her pale lips, to stare into her hazel eyes and fall in. At lunch, I am entranced by her boots, 2-1/2 inch heels which on many women would clunk. But on her, they’re graceful. Must come from years of pulling hose (she’s a firefighter… but doesn’t look like most burly firefighters I know) – grace under any pressure.
Last night, Jane and I arrived home. I’d had too much to drink & my heat hurt. We ended up in bed, naked, Jane’s newly enlarged, cantaloupe-sized breasts smothering me. She got atop of me, my cock riding along her slit, wet with her juices. She started to moan, a guttural sound, my cock touching her clit as she rode along. “There,” she said. “There.” And she went over the edge, eyes closed, a wisp passing her pursed lips. She’s got her’s, finally. She rested, giggling that I hadn’t gotten mine. I got on my knees over her, and I placed my hard cock in her wet mouth and pumped. Then I pulled out and stroked with my hand, finally coming over her face, my cum on her cheeks, nose, and forehead. I fell to the bed, content and spent, my cum-loving friend next to me.
Friday, November 21
More dreams...
Last night I had another one of those strange dreams. For months, I can go and wake in the morning and not remember a single dream. And then, like now, I have the images when I wake.
Last night I was driving and had to take a detour which went through a shipping container farm. The road was paved and had tall cyclone fences on either side; the road ran straight through a facility which housed shipping containers... you know the kind; the kind that are used on ships and then end up on tractor-trailers or trains... Anyway, I turned onto the road and there was a guy walking a sentry post, his rifle at right-shoulder-arms. He wasn't in uniform; just some guy with an M-16 on his shoulder, walking along side the road next to the fence.
... as to the other situation, Jane came back to spend the night, but we didn't talk about Ralph's report or Mercer's mom. Today, we were emailing back and forth and she wrote, "You can call her if you like... you liked her enough to inquire about her status..."
I'm wondering if this is a trap. You know, the woman says one thing, offering permission, but if the guy does it, there's all hell to pay. A colleague of mine wrote me after I said I was in the dog house. "Yes, you are... is she speaking to you at all? Her insecurity level just rose 1,000 pegs!" Yes, Susan may be on to something here.
Last night I was driving and had to take a detour which went through a shipping container farm. The road was paved and had tall cyclone fences on either side; the road ran straight through a facility which housed shipping containers... you know the kind; the kind that are used on ships and then end up on tractor-trailers or trains... Anyway, I turned onto the road and there was a guy walking a sentry post, his rifle at right-shoulder-arms. He wasn't in uniform; just some guy with an M-16 on his shoulder, walking along side the road next to the fence.
... as to the other situation, Jane came back to spend the night, but we didn't talk about Ralph's report or Mercer's mom. Today, we were emailing back and forth and she wrote, "You can call her if you like... you liked her enough to inquire about her status..."
I'm wondering if this is a trap. You know, the woman says one thing, offering permission, but if the guy does it, there's all hell to pay. A colleague of mine wrote me after I said I was in the dog house. "Yes, you are... is she speaking to you at all? Her insecurity level just rose 1,000 pegs!" Yes, Susan may be on to something here.
Thursday, November 20
The things children say...
Jane and I drove over to Kathleen's to get the boys... we're headed home from picking up pizza and Ralph says, "Dad, Mercer's mom isn't married."
Pause. I'm wondering how to digest this. "Thanks," I say.
Jane slaps me.
"You asked me on Tuesday to find out," he volunteers.
For some reason I start to laugh. I'm in the dog house. I'm driving down the road laughing hysterically at the situation; I've been found out. Ralph was so innocent in providing the information; I don't think he realized this was probably not the thing to say in front of Jane. Jane asks if I was wondering for a friend; she knows that isn't the truth. I just laugh in reply. Busted, I am.
We get back to the house and eat the pizza. Jane is cold to me. She leaves right after dinner even though she'd earlier had thoughts of staying the night.
Earlier today, I told my neighbor I was thinking of putting an addition on the house as I need the extra room. I talked around why, but told her my family was going to get larger and I needed the space. "That's great," she said. "Well, sort'a," thought I.
Pause. I'm wondering how to digest this. "Thanks," I say.
Jane slaps me.
"You asked me on Tuesday to find out," he volunteers.
For some reason I start to laugh. I'm in the dog house. I'm driving down the road laughing hysterically at the situation; I've been found out. Ralph was so innocent in providing the information; I don't think he realized this was probably not the thing to say in front of Jane. Jane asks if I was wondering for a friend; she knows that isn't the truth. I just laugh in reply. Busted, I am.
We get back to the house and eat the pizza. Jane is cold to me. She leaves right after dinner even though she'd earlier had thoughts of staying the night.
Earlier today, I told my neighbor I was thinking of putting an addition on the house as I need the extra room. I talked around why, but told her my family was going to get larger and I needed the space. "That's great," she said. "Well, sort'a," thought I.
Dreams disturbing my sleep...
I've been having weird dreams recently. Perhaps it's because of the pregnancy, hormones and all cause weird dreams. Oh, right, the mother has the dreams, not the father... Well, Jane may be having dreams, but so am I...
Two nights ago in my dream I was back at St. Bernard's, the boarding school in the hills of western Carolina I attended. I was visiting campus -- you know, the aged, wise, alumnus. The campus had changed -- and it has; the school is now co-ed. Lots of young, nubile young women flaunting themselves in my dream. One of these young women invited me to play a game with them. In my awake state, I don't remember what they called it, but it did have a name; I do remember part of the game. A young blonde, clad only in scanty panties and a tight, little shirt, took my hand and led me into a room. There were other students, male and female. They were being quiet; this gathering was against school policy, and they didn't want the teachers to know they were meeting. The door closed, and the girl turned her back to me, coyly looked over her shoulder, and said, "Rub against me." Her panty-clad ass looked mighty inviting.
Last night I had a dream where I ran into a woman I'd known before. I don't remember who she was; I have a sense, a memory, of the dream that during the dream I knew her and remembered her; she was real. Anyway, what I do remember is we did something and then went our separate ways, she with her husband and me back to an RV (no, I don't own, or have even ever rented, a recreational vehicle). I started to drive and then I put the RV on autopilot for the drive home; I went to the back of the RV to do stuff. I remember looking forward and seeing road in front, the RV just cruising along, no one at the wheel. When the RV stopped, I thought I'd be home, but instead I was at a house in the woods. And I then noticed there was a GPS hooked to the RV; the GPS has been directing my travels; someone -- the woman -- had input the location. I went to the door of the home -- a large home in, perhaps, a vacation community for well-to-do people. The nameless woman came out of the house and came down to the RV; then her husband came out, and I thought I was a goner. I wasn't. He went across the street to another house, coffee cup in his hand; there was some sort of medical emergency there. Then the woman and I started bumping uglies on the ground alongside the wheels of the RV.
There was much more to both of these dreams, but today, as I write this, these are the only details I can latch onto in some logical form. I have fleeting images -- the young co-ed's ass, a party in another room, a school hallway, a girl's smile -- but I can no longer put the images into chronological order; I can't tell the story.
Anyone care to tell me what these dreams might mean to my convoluted life and mind?
Two nights ago in my dream I was back at St. Bernard's, the boarding school in the hills of western Carolina I attended. I was visiting campus -- you know, the aged, wise, alumnus. The campus had changed -- and it has; the school is now co-ed. Lots of young, nubile young women flaunting themselves in my dream. One of these young women invited me to play a game with them. In my awake state, I don't remember what they called it, but it did have a name; I do remember part of the game. A young blonde, clad only in scanty panties and a tight, little shirt, took my hand and led me into a room. There were other students, male and female. They were being quiet; this gathering was against school policy, and they didn't want the teachers to know they were meeting. The door closed, and the girl turned her back to me, coyly looked over her shoulder, and said, "Rub against me." Her panty-clad ass looked mighty inviting.
Last night I had a dream where I ran into a woman I'd known before. I don't remember who she was; I have a sense, a memory, of the dream that during the dream I knew her and remembered her; she was real. Anyway, what I do remember is we did something and then went our separate ways, she with her husband and me back to an RV (no, I don't own, or have even ever rented, a recreational vehicle). I started to drive and then I put the RV on autopilot for the drive home; I went to the back of the RV to do stuff. I remember looking forward and seeing road in front, the RV just cruising along, no one at the wheel. When the RV stopped, I thought I'd be home, but instead I was at a house in the woods. And I then noticed there was a GPS hooked to the RV; the GPS has been directing my travels; someone -- the woman -- had input the location. I went to the door of the home -- a large home in, perhaps, a vacation community for well-to-do people. The nameless woman came out of the house and came down to the RV; then her husband came out, and I thought I was a goner. I wasn't. He went across the street to another house, coffee cup in his hand; there was some sort of medical emergency there. Then the woman and I started bumping uglies on the ground alongside the wheels of the RV.
There was much more to both of these dreams, but today, as I write this, these are the only details I can latch onto in some logical form. I have fleeting images -- the young co-ed's ass, a party in another room, a school hallway, a girl's smile -- but I can no longer put the images into chronological order; I can't tell the story.
Anyone care to tell me what these dreams might mean to my convoluted life and mind?
Tuesday, November 18
The fine form of a woman's body
Tonight I'm over at the Chinese buffet place, yapping with my sons about their day, and in walks a woman carrying a baby in a plastic carrier; along with her is her husband and two tow-headed sons. The woman is blonde with perky breasts trying to hide under a pink sweater. As I'm chatting with the boys, I watch the family; well, actually, I'm watching her as she moves amongst the tables and the ferns, low light of the restaurant playing gently on her features. I imagine the touch of her skin, the smell of her hair, the sweetness of her breath. Her husband goes to park the car (parking just sucks, you know) and she reaches up to kiss him, lips to lips and more than a brush and I wish it were me. And she slides into the booth and her sweater rides up and a swear I see the top of her underwear creeping above her jeans and a hint of flesh...
Later, at the PTA meeting, I meet one of Ralph's friend's mother. Nice looking; tall with a slightly upturned, little nose, bright brown eyes, blushing cheeks. We walked back from the classroom to the meeting and I was watching her ass as it filled out her jeans nicely. The jeans were worn in all the right places. At the meeting, I was sitting across the way from her; she caught me, several times, staring. I asked Ralph if she was married. He didn't know. I told him to find out; he wanted to know if he should ask Mercer tonight. I laughed and told him to wait until tomorrow.
Later, at the PTA meeting, I meet one of Ralph's friend's mother. Nice looking; tall with a slightly upturned, little nose, bright brown eyes, blushing cheeks. We walked back from the classroom to the meeting and I was watching her ass as it filled out her jeans nicely. The jeans were worn in all the right places. At the meeting, I was sitting across the way from her; she caught me, several times, staring. I asked Ralph if she was married. He didn't know. I told him to find out; he wanted to know if he should ask Mercer tonight. I laughed and told him to wait until tomorrow.
Monday, November 17
The continuing saga
Jane is still miffed at me, claiming I was focused on Anne.
I had a realization tonight. I generally want to know and like the women I'm sleeping with. It doesn't have to be love (hell, when has it been lately), but I do have to like them. Even if I sleep with a woman on the first date, I want to like her. Jane and I were like this, even in the beginning. I told her I wanted to a friend to sleep with; she wanted a penis.
Now look at us.
Note to self: I need to start doing a better job anticipating what a woman is going to be feeling six weeks, six months, down stream.
So, anyway, Jane's still pissed at me. And we're due to go to NCL this weekend. I've said I'll go but keep my penis to myself. No sense in getting her jealous again.
I did wake up this morning and wank to thoughts of Anne and Jane coupled; Jane getting eaten by Anne while Sam stuffed his sausage in Jane's mouth, and I drove Anne from behind, my hands pulling her hips toward me, my cock buried in her sweet pussy.
I had a realization tonight. I generally want to know and like the women I'm sleeping with. It doesn't have to be love (hell, when has it been lately), but I do have to like them. Even if I sleep with a woman on the first date, I want to like her. Jane and I were like this, even in the beginning. I told her I wanted to a friend to sleep with; she wanted a penis.
Now look at us.
Note to self: I need to start doing a better job anticipating what a woman is going to be feeling six weeks, six months, down stream.
So, anyway, Jane's still pissed at me. And we're due to go to NCL this weekend. I've said I'll go but keep my penis to myself. No sense in getting her jealous again.
I did wake up this morning and wank to thoughts of Anne and Jane coupled; Jane getting eaten by Anne while Sam stuffed his sausage in Jane's mouth, and I drove Anne from behind, my hands pulling her hips toward me, my cock buried in her sweet pussy.
Sausages and Clams...
I've decided to change the name of the blog... we have a little running gag, all about northern European sausage, of which I have a fine specimen...
AN EMAIL CONVERSATION BETWEEN Jane & Simon
For all those men who believe that there's no reason to by the cow when the milk is free, nowadays 80% of women are against marriage as they have wised up to the fact that for 7 ounces of sausage, it's not worth buying the entire pig!
Are you suggesting something?
Not at all
I think, dear little Jane, that you need a serving of sausage... perhaps we ought to start you out with something small...
You're right... let me call Sam.
As the owner of the Northern European Sausage Factory, it is my responsibility to handle all customer requests... knowing what you needed, I've already put a call into him so that you can have your needs fulfilled...
I appreciate that. However, I've already made arrangements.
Figures. He's always been troublesome & now I know he's using his relationship with the NESF while not providing us with the appropriate fees and other remunerations. I'll be terminating his relationship with the NESF. Please note, as such, that your satisfaction is not guaranteed; you'll have to take that up with him. If you change your mind and what certified Northern European Sausage, please get in touch with me.
Yes/OK
S A L E ! The Northern European Sausage Factory is running a sale on prime cuts of sausage. We value your patronage and want to ensure your complete & total satisfaction. Please contact us for details & pricing!
I'm sorry. We've gone with a new vendor. It's the South Eastern Sausage Factory (SESF). They offer the finest choices of homegrown sausage, fit for all consumers.
Well, miss, we here at the NESF are disappointed that you've chosen to take your business elsewhere. We understand, however, that sometimes a person needs to find new vendors for certain products. For instance, we recently learned of the American Clam House and hope to try out their products... ;-)
You may want to rethink patronizing that particular establishment. It's been told that they frequently invest in bad clams. Might I recommend the services of Northern Clams Limited (NCL). They have a wonderful reputation for providing choice clam selection. Sincerely, J.Cremer, COO, Cremer Meat Packing Industries.
Perhaps I could try some of the product that Cremer Meat Packing Industries makes... do you have clams?
No clams, tacos
No clams! What sort of tacos do you have?
Prepackaged.
Prepackaged! You know that here at the Northern European Sausage Factory, we use only the finest and freshest cuts of prime meat for our sausages. We've found that our customers have come to adore our sausages. We have some customers who are repeat customers for years and years; they just continue to want our sausages. Recently, we've had to cut back on production of sausages, and, sadly, some of those repeat customers have been left out in the cold. Our customers find that while other sausages seem to have the same basic ingredients, our special northern European sausages provide an extra something. It's almost as if our customers, once they taste one of our sausages, have a continual, undefined, yearning for more. You ought to consider moving from prepackaged tacos to fresh tacos.
We found that fresh tacos lead to some undesirable repeat customers. If we protect our tacos by packaging them, we find that our select customers enjoy the safety and assurance of protection they desire.
Yes. This is always a problem: repeat customers who are undesirable. At the NESF we have found that some customers are not worth trouble. Lately, we've begun to really segment our customers and focus our marketing energies on what we've determined to be the most profitable segment. Our interests lay in creating long-term, relationship-based, customer associations... Have you truly found that by prepackaging your tacos you can create more loyal customers?
Mr. Winky, we find that our customer base consists of high-priority individuals with the utmost taste in quality and freshness. This allows for them to partake in the wonderful variety of tacos that our company offers. If you wish to place an order, we have a screening process that would need to take place. Please forward all inquiries to jcremer@cmpi. Regards, Jane Cremer
I am certainly interested in learning more about your pre-packaged tacos. Please let me know what I need to do to become a valued customer of CMPI.
Dear Mr Winky,
Thank you for inquiring about Cremer Meat Packing Industries. We offer a variety of services to fit your meat packing needs.
If you would be so kinds as to fill out the questionaire that will be mailed to you, and return it in the pre-stamped envelope, we will forward your responses to our customer approval team.
As you may know, we only offer the choicest tacos, prepackaged to your specification. When choosing your tacos please be specific regarding toppings and and the type of meat that you wish to have. We serve a variety of meats which will be broken into cataogories and listed in your welcome brochure. Don't forget to take advantage of the free spice offer!!!
Sincerely,
Customer Service
CMPI
AN EMAIL CONVERSATION BETWEEN Jane & Simon
For all those men who believe that there's no reason to by the cow when the milk is free, nowadays 80% of women are against marriage as they have wised up to the fact that for 7 ounces of sausage, it's not worth buying the entire pig!
Are you suggesting something?
Not at all
I think, dear little Jane, that you need a serving of sausage... perhaps we ought to start you out with something small...
You're right... let me call Sam.
As the owner of the Northern European Sausage Factory, it is my responsibility to handle all customer requests... knowing what you needed, I've already put a call into him so that you can have your needs fulfilled...
I appreciate that. However, I've already made arrangements.
Figures. He's always been troublesome & now I know he's using his relationship with the NESF while not providing us with the appropriate fees and other remunerations. I'll be terminating his relationship with the NESF. Please note, as such, that your satisfaction is not guaranteed; you'll have to take that up with him. If you change your mind and what certified Northern European Sausage, please get in touch with me.
Yes/OK
S A L E ! The Northern European Sausage Factory is running a sale on prime cuts of sausage. We value your patronage and want to ensure your complete & total satisfaction. Please contact us for details & pricing!
I'm sorry. We've gone with a new vendor. It's the South Eastern Sausage Factory (SESF). They offer the finest choices of homegrown sausage, fit for all consumers.
Well, miss, we here at the NESF are disappointed that you've chosen to take your business elsewhere. We understand, however, that sometimes a person needs to find new vendors for certain products. For instance, we recently learned of the American Clam House and hope to try out their products... ;-)
You may want to rethink patronizing that particular establishment. It's been told that they frequently invest in bad clams. Might I recommend the services of Northern Clams Limited (NCL). They have a wonderful reputation for providing choice clam selection. Sincerely, J.Cremer, COO, Cremer Meat Packing Industries.
Perhaps I could try some of the product that Cremer Meat Packing Industries makes... do you have clams?
No clams, tacos
No clams! What sort of tacos do you have?
Prepackaged.
Prepackaged! You know that here at the Northern European Sausage Factory, we use only the finest and freshest cuts of prime meat for our sausages. We've found that our customers have come to adore our sausages. We have some customers who are repeat customers for years and years; they just continue to want our sausages. Recently, we've had to cut back on production of sausages, and, sadly, some of those repeat customers have been left out in the cold. Our customers find that while other sausages seem to have the same basic ingredients, our special northern European sausages provide an extra something. It's almost as if our customers, once they taste one of our sausages, have a continual, undefined, yearning for more. You ought to consider moving from prepackaged tacos to fresh tacos.
We found that fresh tacos lead to some undesirable repeat customers. If we protect our tacos by packaging them, we find that our select customers enjoy the safety and assurance of protection they desire.
Yes. This is always a problem: repeat customers who are undesirable. At the NESF we have found that some customers are not worth trouble. Lately, we've begun to really segment our customers and focus our marketing energies on what we've determined to be the most profitable segment. Our interests lay in creating long-term, relationship-based, customer associations... Have you truly found that by prepackaging your tacos you can create more loyal customers?
Mr. Winky, we find that our customer base consists of high-priority individuals with the utmost taste in quality and freshness. This allows for them to partake in the wonderful variety of tacos that our company offers. If you wish to place an order, we have a screening process that would need to take place. Please forward all inquiries to jcremer@cmpi. Regards, Jane Cremer
I am certainly interested in learning more about your pre-packaged tacos. Please let me know what I need to do to become a valued customer of CMPI.
Dear Mr Winky,
Thank you for inquiring about Cremer Meat Packing Industries. We offer a variety of services to fit your meat packing needs.
If you would be so kinds as to fill out the questionaire that will be mailed to you, and return it in the pre-stamped envelope, we will forward your responses to our customer approval team.
As you may know, we only offer the choicest tacos, prepackaged to your specification. When choosing your tacos please be specific regarding toppings and and the type of meat that you wish to have. We serve a variety of meats which will be broken into cataogories and listed in your welcome brochure. Don't forget to take advantage of the free spice offer!!!
Sincerely,
Customer Service
CMPI
Sunday, November 16
Women... can't live with them... can't live without them...
Okay, slightly cliched from our friend Flounder of Animal House.
Jane wrote today: I'm going out with the donor's want-to-be girlfriend today. It's pissing me off, the way she always comes up in our conversations. Reason being, is that I like her and don't want to be jealous over a friend of mine. So, when the guy I'm sleeping with keeps bringing her up all the time, it makes it a little hard to keep her in a friend category. It's stupid, because it's not her fault, but it makes me not want to spend time with her. Men ruin everything.
I find this of note because, (a) Anne is married to Sam and isn't my want-to-be-girlfriend... but she is a decent screw & I'd go for another round... (b) Wasn't it Jane who turned me on to the swingers' club and encouraged me to wet my wick... and (c) Maybe I mention her every once in a while 'cause I think Jane needs a friend here in Raleigh-Durham; she ain't got family, I'm an asshole, and she needs somebody other than the destructive, combative, evil wenches at her place of employment...
Jane wrote today: I'm going out with the donor's want-to-be girlfriend today. It's pissing me off, the way she always comes up in our conversations. Reason being, is that I like her and don't want to be jealous over a friend of mine. So, when the guy I'm sleeping with keeps bringing her up all the time, it makes it a little hard to keep her in a friend category. It's stupid, because it's not her fault, but it makes me not want to spend time with her. Men ruin everything.
I find this of note because, (a) Anne is married to Sam and isn't my want-to-be-girlfriend... but she is a decent screw & I'd go for another round... (b) Wasn't it Jane who turned me on to the swingers' club and encouraged me to wet my wick... and (c) Maybe I mention her every once in a while 'cause I think Jane needs a friend here in Raleigh-Durham; she ain't got family, I'm an asshole, and she needs somebody other than the destructive, combative, evil wenches at her place of employment...
Found again...
Jane, the mother of the yet-as-unborn-child has found this blog again. So, I'm moving it again... You'll remember that this is the second move... previously, this blog was at http://blue4u2day.blogspot.com and then at http://ncpeter.blogspot.com... If feel like Kevin Widmar and have taken counsel from Blogger, only I've decided to make no indication on the ncpeter blog that I've moved. Perhaps I'll lose some loyal readers. So be it. I don't want Jane reading this.
Thursday, November 13
Oh my, oh my...
I think I'm horny...
Trixie, oh Trixie, now that's hot.
As is this.
I dream for a woman like this, a whore, a slut, for me.
Trixie, oh Trixie, now that's hot.
As is this.
I dream for a woman like this, a whore, a slut, for me.
Wednesday, November 12
Holiday Greetings...
Here's a treat... check out her post from 11 November... Add some holiday cheer to your life!
Genetic Counseling
Today Jane and I went over to Duke for genetic counseling. I think she's worried there might be something wrong with the baby. I'm thinking that she's thinking too much.
Perhaps she needs to spend more time on her knees, head buried in the pillows of the bed, my cock in her ass.
Perhaps she needs to spend more time on her knees, head buried in the pillows of the bed, my cock in her ass.
Monday, November 10
From Jane's blog...
The blog I found this past weekend was written by the soon-to-be-father of my unborn child. In the blog were his ways of dealing with the negative, or rather ambivalent emotions he was having toward myself and the child. Because he likes to believe that he is a decent person who will do the right thing, the true, negative feelings he has are at war with his sense of duty and honor. The result of this war was a private blog that I came across while I was using his computer. He was always telling me that there were some great blogs out there, so I decided to check out the ones he saved. One was the journal he was keeping in regards to our situation. By the time I realized what it was, there was no way that I could stop reading...
Let me tell you, when they say that ignorance is bliss, they have no idea how right they are. I don't think I can describe how heart broken I was when I read these entries. If I ever felt bad about anything in my life it was made ten times worse when I read this entry. I heard him tell me many times that having this child was not what he wanted and I knew that deep down he blamed me for it, but to have him put it in writing that he did not want me or the child, really hurt.
It wasn't so much that he was torn about the issue. I, too, am torn. It was the fact that he put his dislike of me on the web for others to view. I like to think that I'm not a mean person. I don't want to put anyone into a situation that is not of their choosing if I can help it. Believing this to the fullest, when I found out about the baby, I gave him the option of stepping out of our lives. I did not do it as a noble gesture, I did it because I believed that this was not what he wanted and I didn't want to force someone to be in my life and that of my child's when they are resenting the entire situation. The child doesn't need that, I don't need that and the father doesn't need that. So when I read the blog and saw comments as to the entire thing being my decision, and that why shouldn't I carry a burden, that I just couldn't believe my eyes.
Then, there was the part that was more personal (if it can get more personal). The part where he wasn't hot on kissing me. That stung. I'd like to think it's not ego. It may be ego for all I know, but I can't help but think of the times when I asked him if he wanted out. That I wanted him to see other people and have him tell me that it wasn't what he wanted right now. That he was fine with the way things were. Obviously it wasn't fine.
Now, I have a slight issue with letting people do things to hurt me and then gloss over it. I usually let it go. I can't understand what good it does holding a grudge. So I tell myself to let it go...and I can for the most part. It's just that when I find myself alone, I think, and the thoughts lead to " what is it about me that is so very terrible?" and I cry. Like I'm doing now. It hurts, and then I realize that all the things, little things that people gloss over, still hurt. I guess you never really get over it after all.
Let me tell you, when they say that ignorance is bliss, they have no idea how right they are. I don't think I can describe how heart broken I was when I read these entries. If I ever felt bad about anything in my life it was made ten times worse when I read this entry. I heard him tell me many times that having this child was not what he wanted and I knew that deep down he blamed me for it, but to have him put it in writing that he did not want me or the child, really hurt.
It wasn't so much that he was torn about the issue. I, too, am torn. It was the fact that he put his dislike of me on the web for others to view. I like to think that I'm not a mean person. I don't want to put anyone into a situation that is not of their choosing if I can help it. Believing this to the fullest, when I found out about the baby, I gave him the option of stepping out of our lives. I did not do it as a noble gesture, I did it because I believed that this was not what he wanted and I didn't want to force someone to be in my life and that of my child's when they are resenting the entire situation. The child doesn't need that, I don't need that and the father doesn't need that. So when I read the blog and saw comments as to the entire thing being my decision, and that why shouldn't I carry a burden, that I just couldn't believe my eyes.
Then, there was the part that was more personal (if it can get more personal). The part where he wasn't hot on kissing me. That stung. I'd like to think it's not ego. It may be ego for all I know, but I can't help but think of the times when I asked him if he wanted out. That I wanted him to see other people and have him tell me that it wasn't what he wanted right now. That he was fine with the way things were. Obviously it wasn't fine.
Now, I have a slight issue with letting people do things to hurt me and then gloss over it. I usually let it go. I can't understand what good it does holding a grudge. So I tell myself to let it go...and I can for the most part. It's just that when I find myself alone, I think, and the thoughts lead to " what is it about me that is so very terrible?" and I cry. Like I'm doing now. It hurts, and then I realize that all the things, little things that people gloss over, still hurt. I guess you never really get over it after all.
A Conversation with Anne...
Simon: Hi, guys. What's up? Jane and I were at karaoke last night; Rhonda and Ray were asking after you.
Anne: hello
Simon: Who is it? ((I'm always slightly confused at this point...))
Anne: Anne, Sam is at work; swing shift...
Anne: Are they going to the next social?
Simon: Ah. I was over this weekend after the accident at the plant. Hope Sam is doing okay.
Simon: Yes, of course. They're on the staff... they just love to play...
Anne: sorry I have 3 im going on at the same time
Simon: Jane was saying you're going to go shopping together; she's looking forward to it...
Simon: Aren't you just little-miss-popular...
Simon: Jane one of them? Say hi to her for me...
Simon: She's mad at me right now...
Anne: I love shopping and spending money that's not mine
Simon: Although she did spend the night last night and she came to dinner with me and the boys...
Simon: Annie, it's all your's
Simon: I'm going to go put the boys to bed, so I'll be silent for a minute or two or three... I'll be back shortly; I'd like to chat a bit, if you have the time...
Anne: ok
Simon: I'm back... prayers... now they're playing their damn game boys...
Anne: but, they were tuck in thats all that matters
Simon: Yes, they're down... sorta... talking now... I can hear them... Ralph is whistling...
Simon: I sometimes wish I had a large enough house to give them each their own room...
Anne: mine are still awake
Simon: and this house is going to get smaller still here soon...
Simon: Even the 2 year old is still awake?
Simon: You do have a little one, right? ((I'm still confused))
Anne: yes
Anne: my 5 yr old is out but the girls are awake
Simon: Actually, Jane said that Ralph ought to meet your eldest...
Anne: why
Simon: Same age, more or less... and she's a cutie... ((Probably takes after her mother...))
Anne: she's a blonde
Simon: I still Stan by my earlier comment... hair color be damned...
Anne: all my kids are blonde
Anne: sorry Simon
Simon: Sorry for what? That my compliments fall on deaf ears?
Anne: how was Jane felling
Simon: or that Jane is miffed at me right now
Simon: Right.
Simon: Well, she read something I hadn't really wanted her to read...
Simon: she was on my computer looking around...
Anne: your comments are very flattering
Simon: something I said about her...
Simon: that wasn't very flattering, actually...
Simon: and she's miffed...
Simon: and confused...
Simon: although, I'm slightly confused, too...
Anne: I just don't take compliments very well
Simon: Most of us don't...
Anne: what happened
Simon: we take the opposite though, hear them loud and clear...
Simon: I have my blog... the public one... perhaps you read it http://mogilan.blogspot.com/
Simon: and I have my poetry blog at http://www.romberger.com/weblog/the_money_pit.html
Anne: ok
Simon: and my professional blog at http://buttercream.blogspot.com/
Simon: well, I had a private blog...
Simon: I didn't tell anyone about it...
Simon: like a journal...
Simon: private..
Simon: The header said: My private blog; I have a professional blog; I have a personal blog; this blog is for those things I'm only willing to share with anonymity: It all started when I discovered I'm going to be a father, again. Here's a place I can include thoughts which are, shall we say, a little outside of where I want my friends peering into my life. This blog was formerly known as "Dad, again."
Simon: So, it really wasn't for her to see or read...
Simon: She found the URL on my computer...
Simon: and read it...
Simon: The post that set her off said: Contrary to what Jane says, I do like to kiss... truth be told, I'm just not hot on kissing her... ouch, bad news... And then what followed was a quizilla thing abou the type of kiss I have: You have an entrancing kiss~ the kind that leaves your partner bedazzled and maybe even feeling he/she is dreaming. Quite effective; the kiss that never lessens and always blows your partner away like the first time.
Simon: She didn't like the fact that I'd never told her about how I felt with her kisses...
Simon: I think that was the main part...
Simon: And it's also the place where I've been talking through the pregnancy, trying to come to grips with it...
Anne: wow
Simon: Well... it's not the thing you might actually tell someone...
Simon: omissions are okay... people have to be nice to one another...
Simon: Anyway, she found the blog... it was at http://blue4u2day.blogspot.com
Simon: It's not there now...
Anne: is she talking to you at all?
Simon: just came on line... stayed the night last night and saturday and friday... had dinner with me and the boys tonight...
Simon: So, I guess, yes, she is talking to me...
Anne: sorry, I did tell you i'm chatting with someone else right. It's hard to do two at once
Simon: I have three windows up, too...
Anne: how do u keep it straight
Simon: Well, it's three different conversations...
Simon: yours...
Simon: Jane... but she's not talking much...
Simon: and Beth, a former gf...
Simon: who wants to get married...
Simon: But that's a long story...
Anne: tell Jane hI for me
Simon: done...
Simon: she says hI back...
Anne: did you get the contract straightened out
Simon: it's not a contract... it's an agreement on what the future is like... and, no, we didn't...
Anne: sore subject?
Simon: No, I just thought it would be more straight forward than it's turning out to be...
Simon: now also thinking of taking my family room and putting up a wall...
Simon: and maybe having Jane move in...
Simon: with her own space...
Simon: so we only have to keep one home for a while...
Simon: tough stuff...
Simon: it was easier when I was married...
Anne: well I hope all goes well
Simon: It'll all work out in the end...
Anne: has she been to the doc lately
Simon: No. Goes on Wednesday... I'm going with her...
Anne: have u seen the ultrasound yet
Simon: yes. The baby is there... little thing...
Anne: when was the last time you held an infant
Simon: couple of months ago...
Simon: I do love kids...
Simon: I just thought I was done...
Simon: making them...
Simon: goes to show, huh?
Anne: yes it does
Anne: that's how we got our third, condoms don't always work
Simon: You play, you pay...
Simon: it's just going to make life interesting...
Simon: for the next 18 years...
Simon: I think the thing that gets me most is that I'm not madly, head over heels, in love with her...
Simon: were I, things would be more simple...
Simon: easier, even...
Anne: but you're going to be a daddy again, do u realize how precious that is. you have to get the whole picture, you are a great dad
Simon: perhaps I'm a great dad (and I am) but I'm a reluctant father... I'll be okay once the munchkin arrives...
Anne: there is nothing scary about being a dad again you have already done it, twice even. you do a fine job
Simon: Annie, how would you know how fine or not fine a father I am? I could be the guy who locks his kids in the closet and never feeds them...
Anne: Jane told me u were great with you kids
Simon: she's ever hopeful since I'm the father to the child she's carrying...
Simon: kidding... yeh, I'm okay...
Simon: have you seen pics of my kids?
Anne: no
Simon: we're at http://www.geocities.com/blue4u2day/
Simon: nice little guys...
Simon: actually, they're getting big...
Simon: Drew, now 11, will not hold my hand anymore...
Simon: Ralph, 9, still will...
Simon: that'll end soon...
Simon: Can I change the subject?
Anne: what would you like to discuss
Simon: wondering if you and Sam are coming to the party on the 22nd...
Simon: ((and no comments about my one track mind, please))
Anne: if his schedule allows us
Simon: yeh. he told me his shift is on standby...
Simon: I'm afraid the chances are pretty good they'll have tasking...
Simon: ((we need to change the @#$% system))
Anne: brb
Simon: brb?
Simon: what's brb?
Simon: Barb? Like the name of my college honey...
Simon: damn b*tch...
Simon: no emotion there, is there...
Simon: ((and you're thinking, where the hell did that come from?))
Simon: are you still there?
Simon: or have you gone to put the children to bed?
Simon: or have I driven/scared you off?
Simon: Annie, I'm going to sign off... headed to do a paper due on Wednesday... screwed as I haven't started it... have a wonderful night... hope to chat with you some later tomorrow.. bye
Anne: hello
Anne: had to carry the kids to bed
Simon: still here I am
Simon: figured...
Anne: that is normally his job
Simon: so, what's brb
Simon: or was that bed?
Anne: be right back
Simon: right... i'm an idiot...
Anne: no its just late
Anne: I have to have all kids ready to leave at 7 am tomorrow
Simon: anyway, I hope Sam is doing okay psych wise. I know the crews are tight over there.
Simon: okay, hit the rack...
Anne: I need SLEEP
Anne: he seems ok
Anne: still horny all the time
Anne: sorry, laugh
Anne: I thought it was funny
Simon: we can talk about that from a stress management perspective... not surprised...
Simon: I came back from working with the guys at the plant and was messed...
Simon: secondary traumatic stress...
Simon: first wanted to be alone
Simon: and then wanted to hump like a rabbit...
Simon: too bad Jane couldn't do it for real...
Simon: but we figured something else out...
Anne: oh share.......................... that can be my bed time story
Simon: Well, you know we can't have intercourse...
Simon: vaginally, anyway...
Anne: wait
Anne: set the scene
Anne: like a romance novel
Simon: I came back... out of sorts...
Simon: there's no romance, here...
Simon: I was off-kilter...
Simon: wanted to go to a poetry reading over in Durham to read some of my stuff...
Simon: but didn't want to be around people...
Simon: we were going to take in The Matrix
Simon: but instead, I laid down to take a nap...
Simon: my room, I should tell you, is like my mind: cluttered at the moment...
Simon: queen sized bed...
Simon: dark red walls...
Anne: so is mine
Anne: king here
Anne: sorry
Simon: a mirror over the head of the bed...
Simon: no, I like hearing your side...
Simon: Anyway, I laid down to take a nap... nestled in the half a dozen pillows and the comforter...
Simon: resting in the yellow, cotton, (Hanes) sheets...
Anne: are u being a smaaaarty typer
Simon: huh?
Simon: anyway, I'm not sure if we did anything when I came to...
Simon: cause then I spend an hour or two dealing with setting up the Psych Services Team to visit the plant...
Simon: either before that or after that -- I was out of sorts -- we snuggled together...
Simon: I get hard, easy...
Simon: she gets wet easy...
Simon: she wanted me in her, bad...
Simon: I wanted to be in her bad...
Simon: we started talking dirty...
Simon: I was sucking on her breasts... they're getting big...
Simon: I told her I wanted to taste milk...
Anne: they already r
Simon: she was on top of me, sliding along... me in her wetness...
Simon: we were sliding back and forth...
Anne: must be nice
Simon: we were imagining...
Simon: at one point we were talking about being with you and Sam...
Simon: I imagined her sliding on me... you over top of me... and Sam behind her...
Anne: yes
Simon: when we get into it, we talk... a lot...
Anne: we're not talkers
Simon: so we were rocking back and forth... she on top... sliding..
Simon: ((You know, I noticed... I think you could be trained, however... ))
Anne: sorry go on
Simon: and the room was lit by a flickering candle...
Simon: shadows dancing on the walls...
Simon: she could look up and see herself in the mirror...
Simon: my head buried in her dangling breasts, sucking, pulling...
Simon: my hands on her ass, pulling...
Simon: and each of us talking...
Simon: she's my little fuck ((I don't think she had the collar on, though)
Simon: and she feeding me images, how she wanted me inside...
Simon: I think on Saturday, we both came like that...
Simon: the bed shaking...
Simon: nothing more than more than a dry hump from when we were teenagers...
Simon: except we're nekkid...
Simon: and it's not dry...
Simon: anything but...
Simon: we were really wet...
Simon: this morning... we started out like that...
Simon: and she decided I had to be inside her
Simon: and, since the doc said she can't do anything vaginally...
Simon: well...
Simon: ((you still there?))
Anne: yes
Anne: keep going
Simon: Okay...
Anne: remember I don't get any tonight
Simon: So, this morning, we were starting out like that...
Simon: Jane was on top...
Simon: sliding along the length of me...
Simon: wet...
Simon: real wet...
Simon: Oh, I forgot one thing... after she read my blog...
Simon: I knew she wanted to kiss...
Simon: but didn't want to...
Simon: so I forced her...
Anne: oooooooooh tough man
Simon: holding her head while I was on top of her...
Simon: forcing my lips over hers...
Simon: at first, she didn't want to respond...
Simon: but then, ever so slightly, she opened her mouth
Simon: to take in my tongue...
Simon: and she responded, kissing back...
Simon: So, anyway, this morning...
Simon: she was really horny...
Simon: I wanted to be inside her... to feel her around my length...
Simon: pubic bone against pubic bone...
Simon: lips to lips...
Simon: my hands holding her face...
Simon: but, no...
Simon: so she got on all fours, and leaned down...
Simon: and I got behind her, hard...
Simon: and with a little lube on my finger, slipped past her tight anus...
Simon: finger pushing in and out...
Simon: other hand pushing down on her back...
Simon: her face buried in the pillows...
Simon: could see myself in the mirror... and her back in the reflection, white against the yellow of the sheets...
Simon: and then I took my finger out...
Simon: and pushed into her, wet and tight...
Simon: and I slid in and out, my full length pumping in...
Anne: I could have played with the clit, to help
Simon: she slumped lower...
Simon: Yes, that would have helped... you and Sam didn't come up this am... but that was part of the tale the other night... you don't know how many times you've come up... you know, we both want you, bad...
Simon: so she was slumped lower... almost all the way on the bed...
Simon: breathing heavy...
Simon: and I came, my eyes rolling back into my head...
Simon: dizzy...
Simon: dizzy...
Simon: and I rested there, still inside her...
Simon: enjoying the tightness and the sensation and the control...
Simon: I'm afraid, she didn't come... ((Damn, we really could'a used your help...))
Anne: I can't do that without the clit being touched
Simon: maybe I need lessons...
Simon: that was actually one thing we talked about...
Simon: since she can’t "do" it...
Simon: she would direct...
Simon: me and Sam
Simon: on you...
Anne: fun
Simon: you don't know how hard I am thinking about it...
Anne: don't think about it you wont get to sleep
Anne: well I need a shower
Anne: and off to bed
Anne: still there, get your hands out of you pants
Simon: Okay... Jane just paged me... she wants to talk...
Anne: sorry
Simon: and I don't have my hands in my pants...
Anne: lol
Simon: nothing to be sorry about...
Simon: I'll have phone sex with Jane...
Anne: bye have fun
Simon: we ought to do a conference call...
Simon: okay... bye...
Anne: thanks for the bed time story
Anne: hello
Simon: Who is it? ((I'm always slightly confused at this point...))
Anne: Anne, Sam is at work; swing shift...
Anne: Are they going to the next social?
Simon: Ah. I was over this weekend after the accident at the plant. Hope Sam is doing okay.
Simon: Yes, of course. They're on the staff... they just love to play...
Anne: sorry I have 3 im going on at the same time
Simon: Jane was saying you're going to go shopping together; she's looking forward to it...
Simon: Aren't you just little-miss-popular...
Simon: Jane one of them? Say hi to her for me...
Simon: She's mad at me right now...
Anne: I love shopping and spending money that's not mine
Simon: Although she did spend the night last night and she came to dinner with me and the boys...
Simon: Annie, it's all your's
Simon: I'm going to go put the boys to bed, so I'll be silent for a minute or two or three... I'll be back shortly; I'd like to chat a bit, if you have the time...
Anne: ok
Simon: I'm back... prayers... now they're playing their damn game boys...
Anne: but, they were tuck in thats all that matters
Simon: Yes, they're down... sorta... talking now... I can hear them... Ralph is whistling...
Simon: I sometimes wish I had a large enough house to give them each their own room...
Anne: mine are still awake
Simon: and this house is going to get smaller still here soon...
Simon: Even the 2 year old is still awake?
Simon: You do have a little one, right? ((I'm still confused))
Anne: yes
Anne: my 5 yr old is out but the girls are awake
Simon: Actually, Jane said that Ralph ought to meet your eldest...
Anne: why
Simon: Same age, more or less... and she's a cutie... ((Probably takes after her mother...))
Anne: she's a blonde
Simon: I still Stan by my earlier comment... hair color be damned...
Anne: all my kids are blonde
Anne: sorry Simon
Simon: Sorry for what? That my compliments fall on deaf ears?
Anne: how was Jane felling
Simon: or that Jane is miffed at me right now
Simon: Right.
Simon: Well, she read something I hadn't really wanted her to read...
Simon: she was on my computer looking around...
Anne: your comments are very flattering
Simon: something I said about her...
Simon: that wasn't very flattering, actually...
Simon: and she's miffed...
Simon: and confused...
Simon: although, I'm slightly confused, too...
Anne: I just don't take compliments very well
Simon: Most of us don't...
Anne: what happened
Simon: we take the opposite though, hear them loud and clear...
Simon: I have my blog... the public one... perhaps you read it http://mogilan.blogspot.com/
Simon: and I have my poetry blog at http://www.romberger.com/weblog/the_money_pit.html
Anne: ok
Simon: and my professional blog at http://buttercream.blogspot.com/
Simon: well, I had a private blog...
Simon: I didn't tell anyone about it...
Simon: like a journal...
Simon: private..
Simon: The header said: My private blog; I have a professional blog; I have a personal blog; this blog is for those things I'm only willing to share with anonymity: It all started when I discovered I'm going to be a father, again. Here's a place I can include thoughts which are, shall we say, a little outside of where I want my friends peering into my life. This blog was formerly known as "Dad, again."
Simon: So, it really wasn't for her to see or read...
Simon: She found the URL on my computer...
Simon: and read it...
Simon: The post that set her off said: Contrary to what Jane says, I do like to kiss... truth be told, I'm just not hot on kissing her... ouch, bad news... And then what followed was a quizilla thing abou the type of kiss I have: You have an entrancing kiss~ the kind that leaves your partner bedazzled and maybe even feeling he/she is dreaming. Quite effective; the kiss that never lessens and always blows your partner away like the first time.
Simon: She didn't like the fact that I'd never told her about how I felt with her kisses...
Simon: I think that was the main part...
Simon: And it's also the place where I've been talking through the pregnancy, trying to come to grips with it...
Anne: wow
Simon: Well... it's not the thing you might actually tell someone...
Simon: omissions are okay... people have to be nice to one another...
Simon: Anyway, she found the blog... it was at http://blue4u2day.blogspot.com
Simon: It's not there now...
Anne: is she talking to you at all?
Simon: just came on line... stayed the night last night and saturday and friday... had dinner with me and the boys tonight...
Simon: So, I guess, yes, she is talking to me...
Anne: sorry, I did tell you i'm chatting with someone else right. It's hard to do two at once
Simon: I have three windows up, too...
Anne: how do u keep it straight
Simon: Well, it's three different conversations...
Simon: yours...
Simon: Jane... but she's not talking much...
Simon: and Beth, a former gf...
Simon: who wants to get married...
Simon: But that's a long story...
Anne: tell Jane hI for me
Simon: done...
Simon: she says hI back...
Anne: did you get the contract straightened out
Simon: it's not a contract... it's an agreement on what the future is like... and, no, we didn't...
Anne: sore subject?
Simon: No, I just thought it would be more straight forward than it's turning out to be...
Simon: now also thinking of taking my family room and putting up a wall...
Simon: and maybe having Jane move in...
Simon: with her own space...
Simon: so we only have to keep one home for a while...
Simon: tough stuff...
Simon: it was easier when I was married...
Anne: well I hope all goes well
Simon: It'll all work out in the end...
Anne: has she been to the doc lately
Simon: No. Goes on Wednesday... I'm going with her...
Anne: have u seen the ultrasound yet
Simon: yes. The baby is there... little thing...
Anne: when was the last time you held an infant
Simon: couple of months ago...
Simon: I do love kids...
Simon: I just thought I was done...
Simon: making them...
Simon: goes to show, huh?
Anne: yes it does
Anne: that's how we got our third, condoms don't always work
Simon: You play, you pay...
Simon: it's just going to make life interesting...
Simon: for the next 18 years...
Simon: I think the thing that gets me most is that I'm not madly, head over heels, in love with her...
Simon: were I, things would be more simple...
Simon: easier, even...
Anne: but you're going to be a daddy again, do u realize how precious that is. you have to get the whole picture, you are a great dad
Simon: perhaps I'm a great dad (and I am) but I'm a reluctant father... I'll be okay once the munchkin arrives...
Anne: there is nothing scary about being a dad again you have already done it, twice even. you do a fine job
Simon: Annie, how would you know how fine or not fine a father I am? I could be the guy who locks his kids in the closet and never feeds them...
Anne: Jane told me u were great with you kids
Simon: she's ever hopeful since I'm the father to the child she's carrying...
Simon: kidding... yeh, I'm okay...
Simon: have you seen pics of my kids?
Anne: no
Simon: we're at http://www.geocities.com/blue4u2day/
Simon: nice little guys...
Simon: actually, they're getting big...
Simon: Drew, now 11, will not hold my hand anymore...
Simon: Ralph, 9, still will...
Simon: that'll end soon...
Simon: Can I change the subject?
Anne: what would you like to discuss
Simon: wondering if you and Sam are coming to the party on the 22nd...
Simon: ((and no comments about my one track mind, please))
Anne: if his schedule allows us
Simon: yeh. he told me his shift is on standby...
Simon: I'm afraid the chances are pretty good they'll have tasking...
Simon: ((we need to change the @#$% system))
Anne: brb
Simon: brb?
Simon: what's brb?
Simon: Barb? Like the name of my college honey...
Simon: damn b*tch...
Simon: no emotion there, is there...
Simon: ((and you're thinking, where the hell did that come from?))
Simon: are you still there?
Simon: or have you gone to put the children to bed?
Simon: or have I driven/scared you off?
Simon: Annie, I'm going to sign off... headed to do a paper due on Wednesday... screwed as I haven't started it... have a wonderful night... hope to chat with you some later tomorrow.. bye
Anne: hello
Anne: had to carry the kids to bed
Simon: still here I am
Simon: figured...
Anne: that is normally his job
Simon: so, what's brb
Simon: or was that bed?
Anne: be right back
Simon: right... i'm an idiot...
Anne: no its just late
Anne: I have to have all kids ready to leave at 7 am tomorrow
Simon: anyway, I hope Sam is doing okay psych wise. I know the crews are tight over there.
Simon: okay, hit the rack...
Anne: I need SLEEP
Anne: he seems ok
Anne: still horny all the time
Anne: sorry, laugh
Anne: I thought it was funny
Simon: we can talk about that from a stress management perspective... not surprised...
Simon: I came back from working with the guys at the plant and was messed...
Simon: secondary traumatic stress...
Simon: first wanted to be alone
Simon: and then wanted to hump like a rabbit...
Simon: too bad Jane couldn't do it for real...
Simon: but we figured something else out...
Anne: oh share.......................... that can be my bed time story
Simon: Well, you know we can't have intercourse...
Simon: vaginally, anyway...
Anne: wait
Anne: set the scene
Anne: like a romance novel
Simon: I came back... out of sorts...
Simon: there's no romance, here...
Simon: I was off-kilter...
Simon: wanted to go to a poetry reading over in Durham to read some of my stuff...
Simon: but didn't want to be around people...
Simon: we were going to take in The Matrix
Simon: but instead, I laid down to take a nap...
Simon: my room, I should tell you, is like my mind: cluttered at the moment...
Simon: queen sized bed...
Simon: dark red walls...
Anne: so is mine
Anne: king here
Anne: sorry
Simon: a mirror over the head of the bed...
Simon: no, I like hearing your side...
Simon: Anyway, I laid down to take a nap... nestled in the half a dozen pillows and the comforter...
Simon: resting in the yellow, cotton, (Hanes) sheets...
Anne: are u being a smaaaarty typer
Simon: huh?
Simon: anyway, I'm not sure if we did anything when I came to...
Simon: cause then I spend an hour or two dealing with setting up the Psych Services Team to visit the plant...
Simon: either before that or after that -- I was out of sorts -- we snuggled together...
Simon: I get hard, easy...
Simon: she gets wet easy...
Simon: she wanted me in her, bad...
Simon: I wanted to be in her bad...
Simon: we started talking dirty...
Simon: I was sucking on her breasts... they're getting big...
Simon: I told her I wanted to taste milk...
Anne: they already r
Simon: she was on top of me, sliding along... me in her wetness...
Simon: we were sliding back and forth...
Anne: must be nice
Simon: we were imagining...
Simon: at one point we were talking about being with you and Sam...
Simon: I imagined her sliding on me... you over top of me... and Sam behind her...
Anne: yes
Simon: when we get into it, we talk... a lot...
Anne: we're not talkers
Simon: so we were rocking back and forth... she on top... sliding..
Simon: ((You know, I noticed... I think you could be trained, however... ))
Anne: sorry go on
Simon: and the room was lit by a flickering candle...
Simon: shadows dancing on the walls...
Simon: she could look up and see herself in the mirror...
Simon: my head buried in her dangling breasts, sucking, pulling...
Simon: my hands on her ass, pulling...
Simon: and each of us talking...
Simon: she's my little fuck ((I don't think she had the collar on, though)
Simon: and she feeding me images, how she wanted me inside...
Simon: I think on Saturday, we both came like that...
Simon: the bed shaking...
Simon: nothing more than more than a dry hump from when we were teenagers...
Simon: except we're nekkid...
Simon: and it's not dry...
Simon: anything but...
Simon: we were really wet...
Simon: this morning... we started out like that...
Simon: and she decided I had to be inside her
Simon: and, since the doc said she can't do anything vaginally...
Simon: well...
Simon: ((you still there?))
Anne: yes
Anne: keep going
Simon: Okay...
Anne: remember I don't get any tonight
Simon: So, this morning, we were starting out like that...
Simon: Jane was on top...
Simon: sliding along the length of me...
Simon: wet...
Simon: real wet...
Simon: Oh, I forgot one thing... after she read my blog...
Simon: I knew she wanted to kiss...
Simon: but didn't want to...
Simon: so I forced her...
Anne: oooooooooh tough man
Simon: holding her head while I was on top of her...
Simon: forcing my lips over hers...
Simon: at first, she didn't want to respond...
Simon: but then, ever so slightly, she opened her mouth
Simon: to take in my tongue...
Simon: and she responded, kissing back...
Simon: So, anyway, this morning...
Simon: she was really horny...
Simon: I wanted to be inside her... to feel her around my length...
Simon: pubic bone against pubic bone...
Simon: lips to lips...
Simon: my hands holding her face...
Simon: but, no...
Simon: so she got on all fours, and leaned down...
Simon: and I got behind her, hard...
Simon: and with a little lube on my finger, slipped past her tight anus...
Simon: finger pushing in and out...
Simon: other hand pushing down on her back...
Simon: her face buried in the pillows...
Simon: could see myself in the mirror... and her back in the reflection, white against the yellow of the sheets...
Simon: and then I took my finger out...
Simon: and pushed into her, wet and tight...
Simon: and I slid in and out, my full length pumping in...
Anne: I could have played with the clit, to help
Simon: she slumped lower...
Simon: Yes, that would have helped... you and Sam didn't come up this am... but that was part of the tale the other night... you don't know how many times you've come up... you know, we both want you, bad...
Simon: so she was slumped lower... almost all the way on the bed...
Simon: breathing heavy...
Simon: and I came, my eyes rolling back into my head...
Simon: dizzy...
Simon: dizzy...
Simon: and I rested there, still inside her...
Simon: enjoying the tightness and the sensation and the control...
Simon: I'm afraid, she didn't come... ((Damn, we really could'a used your help...))
Anne: I can't do that without the clit being touched
Simon: maybe I need lessons...
Simon: that was actually one thing we talked about...
Simon: since she can’t "do" it...
Simon: she would direct...
Simon: me and Sam
Simon: on you...
Anne: fun
Simon: you don't know how hard I am thinking about it...
Anne: don't think about it you wont get to sleep
Anne: well I need a shower
Anne: and off to bed
Anne: still there, get your hands out of you pants
Simon: Okay... Jane just paged me... she wants to talk...
Anne: sorry
Simon: and I don't have my hands in my pants...
Anne: lol
Simon: nothing to be sorry about...
Simon: I'll have phone sex with Jane...
Anne: bye have fun
Simon: we ought to do a conference call...
Simon: okay... bye...
Anne: thanks for the bed time story
Sunday, November 9
So, I've moved this blog...
In an attempt to keep blogging, I've moved this blog... followers of the old blog addy, well, they're left in the lurch.
Sorry, Jane.
Sorry, Jane.
Jane found the blog
Jane was cruising the net on my computer and found this blog... hot water I am in... she didn't like the fact that I said I preferred kissing other women...
Thursday, November 6
Stopped by a young lass in distress
Last night, coming home from a late night work session (truly), was flagged down by a young woman in distress... attractive... drunk... crying... wearing low rise jeans... got a high rise out of me...
Anyway, turns out she's a recently-fired Hooter's Girl being stalked by an ex-boyfriend. Had no place to spend the night. I thought about bringing her home; she was drunk enough, vulnerable enough she would'a taken me up on the offer and would have spent the night wrapped in my arms, her long legs entwined in my legs, tear stained face against my shoulder.
So, I did... nothing... I took her to one of her friend's...
Damn. Why am I always the "nice" guy?
Anyway, turns out she's a recently-fired Hooter's Girl being stalked by an ex-boyfriend. Had no place to spend the night. I thought about bringing her home; she was drunk enough, vulnerable enough she would'a taken me up on the offer and would have spent the night wrapped in my arms, her long legs entwined in my legs, tear stained face against my shoulder.
So, I did... nothing... I took her to one of her friend's...
Damn. Why am I always the "nice" guy?
Saturday, November 1
What's up with this shit?
Jane's been talking with Sam.
I've been IM'ing Anne.
Some huge screwfest, or maybe just dinner, is right around the corner; I can feel it in my bones. (No, not my boner; my bones.)
I'm amused that this seems to be taking on a quality beyond just casual sex.
So long as I get mine, do I really care?
I've been IM'ing Anne.
Some huge screwfest, or maybe just dinner, is right around the corner; I can feel it in my bones. (No, not my boner; my bones.)
I'm amused that this seems to be taking on a quality beyond just casual sex.
So long as I get mine, do I really care?
