Well, Jane and I are back in the same place at the same time... although, for those of you who are looking for tales of sexual escapades, you're going to be sorely disappointed. I'd say slide on over to Magdala's Submission for a good read. Because here, all you're going to hear about is how Miller seems to find his way between Jane and me in almost any situation... I'm not going to blame Jane's game playing... or her depression... or whatever, but there ain't been any sex.
Wonder if she'd play like Magdala does?
We'll just have to see.
Monday, February 14
Tuesday, February 8
More of the same
On the road. I'm beginning to think the boss has it out for me. Perhaps I ought to find a new job. Last week, however, Jane joined me, leaving Miller with her sister, Janet. Jane had withdrawals, but we had a nice time. I didn't get any work done after hours, nor did we get to the ballet (Jane wanted to).
We had some great sex, however.
We were at the Marriott Renaissance; standard room, but plushier than home. Now Jane's back at her sisters with Miller (who's walking now; I've yet to see it), and I'm still on the road. The TV is blaring, and I'm thinking about our last night together.
Jane's grandmother came to visit with us on the last night we were gonna be together, and I was beat, so I returned to the room about 9pm. Jane came back around two hours later. I was already in bed, resting comfortably in just a pair of Sponge Bob boxers. Jane snuggled next to me; pretty soon I was hard and she was wet.
We'd been getting freaky all week. A little of this, a little of that. So, anyway, we snuggled a bit, kissing, hands wandering here and there. She was hot; I hate to think what she was talking to her grandmother about; freaks. Anyway, pretty soon we Jane was begging me to fuck her. She was on her back, her legs splayed wide; I was between her legs, Sponge Bob around my ankles, Mr. Winky pressed up against her wetness, our mouths locked on each other, a sense of desperation building. And, then, I slipped in her wetness, and we were bucking together.
And then, she pulled her mouth away from mine and starting talking. "Take me from behind. Please. Fuck me in the ass. Put it in my ass."
Hmmm, there's an offer.
So, I pulled out of Jane's pussy, and she rolled over, her head down on the bed, her legs slightly apart, her pussy wet and dripping, and she was begging for me to slip my cock in her ass. I slobbered on my hand and then lubed up between her ass cheeks, my fingers pushing into the little rosebud. She moaned. My cock was hard, and I pressed up against her, and then felt the head slip inside. Pretty soon I'd drilled her, my cock all the way in, planted like an American flag on a foreign shore. And then, it was in and out, pulling and pushing, with Jane rocking, and my hand pulling at her hair, lifting her head off the bed. We were both moaning.
It was good. Her asshole is so tight, the friction was driving me crazy. When I came, it was as if I hadn't come all week. And then I fell on top of her.
And now, well, now she's miles away and I'm freezing my ass off on New England. I want to see Jane and slip inside her. I want Jane to remember that I'm her husband and she wants me, always.
But, nope, instead I'm here, and she's there.
We had some great sex, however.
We were at the Marriott Renaissance; standard room, but plushier than home. Now Jane's back at her sisters with Miller (who's walking now; I've yet to see it), and I'm still on the road. The TV is blaring, and I'm thinking about our last night together.
Jane's grandmother came to visit with us on the last night we were gonna be together, and I was beat, so I returned to the room about 9pm. Jane came back around two hours later. I was already in bed, resting comfortably in just a pair of Sponge Bob boxers. Jane snuggled next to me; pretty soon I was hard and she was wet.
We'd been getting freaky all week. A little of this, a little of that. So, anyway, we snuggled a bit, kissing, hands wandering here and there. She was hot; I hate to think what she was talking to her grandmother about; freaks. Anyway, pretty soon we Jane was begging me to fuck her. She was on her back, her legs splayed wide; I was between her legs, Sponge Bob around my ankles, Mr. Winky pressed up against her wetness, our mouths locked on each other, a sense of desperation building. And, then, I slipped in her wetness, and we were bucking together.
And then, she pulled her mouth away from mine and starting talking. "Take me from behind. Please. Fuck me in the ass. Put it in my ass."
Hmmm, there's an offer.
So, I pulled out of Jane's pussy, and she rolled over, her head down on the bed, her legs slightly apart, her pussy wet and dripping, and she was begging for me to slip my cock in her ass. I slobbered on my hand and then lubed up between her ass cheeks, my fingers pushing into the little rosebud. She moaned. My cock was hard, and I pressed up against her, and then felt the head slip inside. Pretty soon I'd drilled her, my cock all the way in, planted like an American flag on a foreign shore. And then, it was in and out, pulling and pushing, with Jane rocking, and my hand pulling at her hair, lifting her head off the bed. We were both moaning.
It was good. Her asshole is so tight, the friction was driving me crazy. When I came, it was as if I hadn't come all week. And then I fell on top of her.
And now, well, now she's miles away and I'm freezing my ass off on New England. I want to see Jane and slip inside her. I want Jane to remember that I'm her husband and she wants me, always.
But, nope, instead I'm here, and she's there.
Sunday, January 23
Time to go to Vegas!
Well, I do think it might be time to head to Vegas! Let's all get fondled!
;-)
Nev. Judge Nullifies Law on Lap DancesQuick! Before it's too late!
LAS VEGAS - A Las Vegas law prohibiting strippers from fondling customers during lap dances is unconstitutionally vague, a judge ruled.
District Court Judge Sally Loehrer affirmed a lower court ruling that as many as five misdemeanor criminal cases filed against Las Vegas strippers should be dismissed.
Friday's ruling affects only dancers within city limits. The Clark County Commission in 2002 limited touching between strippers and patrons during private lap dances, specifically barring strippers from touching or sitting on the customer's genital area.
But the municipal code was not as specific, saying only that strippers and their patrons should not "fondle" or "caress" each other.
City attorneys told Loehrer touching is illegal when dancers engage in contact aimed at sexually arousing the customer. But defense lawyer James Colin argued the lack of specifics makes it impossible to enforce the law.
"It's too confusing," Colin said. "No one knows."
Under Loehrer's ruling, no dancer in the city can be arrested for violating the municipal code. The city is considering an appeal.
;-)
Tuesday, January 18
Cheapskates...
This isn't sex, but I feel compelled to blog about this, and if I blog on my vanilla blog, the people I'm writing about will see it... and I'm not yet ready to have that crucial conversation...
Tonight, I'm out to dinner with two colleagues. The bill comes to $64 and some change for the three of us... My portion is 12.99 for dinner and 2.00 for a pop. That's $15; add in tax (maybe a buck and a half) and that comes to $16.50; I toss in a $20. My colleagues raise their eye brows. "He was good; that's my tip," I say. A touch over 20%;nothing.
One of my colleagues decides to put the whole thing on her credit card and pocket the cash my other colleague and I have tossed in. She puts a $10 tip on the card.
I'm thinking to myself: "You cheapskate. I tossed in money for the waiter, not you."
I don't expect her to tip at 20%; but I don't expect I'll be buying her coffee in the morning...
Tonight, I'm out to dinner with two colleagues. The bill comes to $64 and some change for the three of us... My portion is 12.99 for dinner and 2.00 for a pop. That's $15; add in tax (maybe a buck and a half) and that comes to $16.50; I toss in a $20. My colleagues raise their eye brows. "He was good; that's my tip," I say. A touch over 20%;nothing.
One of my colleagues decides to put the whole thing on her credit card and pocket the cash my other colleague and I have tossed in. She puts a $10 tip on the card.
I'm thinking to myself: "You cheapskate. I tossed in money for the waiter, not you."
I don't expect her to tip at 20%; but I don't expect I'll be buying her coffee in the morning...
Monday, January 17
Some people just don't get it
A comment on a post below leads me to believe some people just don't get it. They wrote
My thanks to Carrie for taking a stand on the comment board.
So, even with the likes of Anonymous posting comments, I encourage feedback. And, if you'd like to discuss the finer points of sex blogging or the freedom of speech, we can trade emails... or, if you're big enough, we can talk over a beer.
Something tells me that Anonymous wouldn't want to show his or her face in some neighborhood bar.
I wonder if they're one of those closet freaks who's all worried about people finding out they actually have thoughts about sex.
Ah, that's for another post. Read on, my friends, read on.
Peace to you all.
why do you feel you have to smut up this blog program? Are you that inadequate of a person that you feel the need to spread your nasty self on what may be the last free forum of this sort? what the hell is wrong with the likes of [can't think of a clean phrase for the like s of you] all in is, you and your kind need to stay where you belong. not here. go away,,you are a piece of shit that needs to go into the mountains and be lost for the rest of your miserable life. do not bother to contact this address,, i will not waste one more line of this program for your skankiness. hell is the right place for you. go awawyAside from the fact they can't seem to write with proper grammar, I get the feeling they don't understand the point of a sex blog or understand the First Ammendment -- you know the one; the one that talks about not "abridging the freedom of speech, or of the press." I'm thinking this poor person just doesn't get it. But you know, that's alright, 'cause it takes all kinds to make the world go 'round: poets, philosophers, and plumbers... and, in this person's case, idiots.
Anonymous | 01.12.05 - 2:10 pm
My thanks to Carrie for taking a stand on the comment board.
So, even with the likes of Anonymous posting comments, I encourage feedback. And, if you'd like to discuss the finer points of sex blogging or the freedom of speech, we can trade emails... or, if you're big enough, we can talk over a beer.
Something tells me that Anonymous wouldn't want to show his or her face in some neighborhood bar.
I wonder if they're one of those closet freaks who's all worried about people finding out they actually have thoughts about sex.
Ah, that's for another post. Read on, my friends, read on.
Peace to you all.
Another fine send-off
Well, I'm on the road again. So, of course, that means Jane and I did the dirty deed last night. Finally. Hell, it's been almost forever. Between being sick and the baby and moodiness and whatever, well, there just hasn't been any bumbing and grinding going on in the Winky household. That changed last night.
Jane had announced in the morning that she wanted to do "the sex thing." I was working at the computer trying to meet a deadline last night, and Jane put Miller to sleep. She was also watching Tom Cats, a movie I'd never seen and felt compelled to watch while trying to pound on the keyboard and sound intelligent with words. Finally, the movie ends and the baby is asleep... only he's asleep on our bed and Jane has uttered something about just going to bed. "Move the baby," I suggest. She does, and I scamper off to the bathroom to get ready for bed. She lights a few candles, and I've loaded up hits of the 80's on the stereo. We end up cuddled next to each other in the bed, the baby sleeping in the crib for the first time in weeks.
Pretty soon we're caressing each other, chatting. She's wearing a thing she borrowed from Anne. I made some comment and it was a bad move on my part. First she's offended and then starts comparing me to Sam. His equipment is smaller than mine, but he evidently kisses much, much better. Jane reminds me of this often. After a while, and who knows how long it was as we were laying there in bed caressing each other and talking, I was hard and then Jane was wet, and then she climbed on top of me, grinding her self into me, my cock hard and straining. Pretty soon we were ready and I begged to be inside her and she slid me in and then we were rocking; she fingered herself as my cock slid in and out of her wetness. I licked and bit at her dangling breasts and nipples; I drowned in flesh. We ended up coming together.
To say it was nice would be an understatement. Vanilla, sure. But nice. And we cuddled together for the rest of the night; sometime around five we were about to go again when the baby decided it was time to be in the big bed. Ah, well, all things are nice.
Jane had announced in the morning that she wanted to do "the sex thing." I was working at the computer trying to meet a deadline last night, and Jane put Miller to sleep. She was also watching Tom Cats, a movie I'd never seen and felt compelled to watch while trying to pound on the keyboard and sound intelligent with words. Finally, the movie ends and the baby is asleep... only he's asleep on our bed and Jane has uttered something about just going to bed. "Move the baby," I suggest. She does, and I scamper off to the bathroom to get ready for bed. She lights a few candles, and I've loaded up hits of the 80's on the stereo. We end up cuddled next to each other in the bed, the baby sleeping in the crib for the first time in weeks.
Pretty soon we're caressing each other, chatting. She's wearing a thing she borrowed from Anne. I made some comment and it was a bad move on my part. First she's offended and then starts comparing me to Sam. His equipment is smaller than mine, but he evidently kisses much, much better. Jane reminds me of this often. After a while, and who knows how long it was as we were laying there in bed caressing each other and talking, I was hard and then Jane was wet, and then she climbed on top of me, grinding her self into me, my cock hard and straining. Pretty soon we were ready and I begged to be inside her and she slid me in and then we were rocking; she fingered herself as my cock slid in and out of her wetness. I licked and bit at her dangling breasts and nipples; I drowned in flesh. We ended up coming together.
To say it was nice would be an understatement. Vanilla, sure. But nice. And we cuddled together for the rest of the night; sometime around five we were about to go again when the baby decided it was time to be in the big bed. Ah, well, all things are nice.
Friday, January 14
Career counsel you can sink your teeth into
Direct from Yahoo... Here's career counseling you can sink your teeth into, or at least bug your eyes out over.
And I wonder if blogging is on his top 140 list...
Speaker Touts Stripping to 8th GradersYou do have to admit, Fried has a point... ;-)
By BILEN MESFIN, Associated Press Writer
SAN FRANCISCO - The principal of a Palo Alto middle school may not invite a popular speaker back to an annual career day after he told girls they could earn a good living as strippers.
Management consultant William Fried told eighth-graders at Jane Lathrop Stanford Middle School on Tuesday that stripping and exotic dancing can pay $250,000 or more per year, depending on their bust size.
"It's sick, but it's true," Fried said in an interview later. "The truth of the matter is you can earn a tremendous amount of money as an exotic dancer, if that's your desire."
Fried has given a popular 55-minute presentation, "The Secret of a Happy Life," at the school's career day the past three years. He counsels students to experiment with a variety of interests until they discover something they love and excel in.
But school principal Joseph Di Salvo said Fried may not be back next year.
The principal said Fried's comments to the class came after some of them asked him to expand on why he included "exotic dancing" on his list of 140 potential careers.
Fried spent about a minute answering questions, defining strippers and exotic dancers synonymously. According to Jason Garcia, 14, he told students: "For every 2 inches up there, you should get another $50,000 on your salary."
"A couple of students egged him and he took it hook, line and sinker," said Di Salvo, who also said the students took advantage of a substitute teacher overseeing the session.
"It's totally inappropriate," Di Salvo said. "It's not OK by me. I would want my presenters to kind of understand that they are coming into a career day for eighth-graders."
That stripping advice wasn't the only thing that riled parents. Di Salvo said one mother said she was outraged when her son announced that he was forgoing college for a field he loves: fishing.
"He really focused on finding what you really love to do," said Mariah Cannon, 13.
Fried, 64, said he does not think he offended any of the students: "Eighth-grade kids are not dumb," he said. "They are pretty worldly."
And I wonder if blogging is on his top 140 list...
Wednesday, January 12
Thursday, December 30
Jane wants a religious job
Jane and I were talking the other day, and she shared with me that she'd like to get a job in a church, doing something. Okay, thought I. I can buy that. Tonight, she tells me that perhaps this wouldn't be a good idea as she'd always feel guilty: unwilling to give up the freaky side of her and doesn't think that would jive with the religious community. Oh, I don't know. It looks like it might here. I can imagine this is what Jane had in mind.
Okay, probably not. Maybe more like this one. No, truth be told, she's into mild spanking and a little nipple torture, but not much else. This would be way too much for her.
Okay. You got me. I was just looking for a way to get the fetish pictures in here. However, Jane was talking earlier this week about working in a religious community, so I don't think I'm all that far off base here.
Things around the house are quiet. Drew is off with friends at a church gathering; Ralph is at a sleep-over; Miller is alsleep (having fallen off the bed a couple of minutes ago); Jane is asleep with Miller next to her. Would be the ideal time for a romp, with the older boys away and all. Perhaps I should wake her up; a quick slap on her ass would likely do the trick. Alas, alas, there ain't been much sex lately, and I suspect there will not be any tonight.
We did have a nice little fuck the other night; I'd like to tell you all about it, but, actually, I don't really remember. It was one of those 2am screws that in the morning was but a distant memory: I know it was nice, but I don't remember the specifics.
I'm thinking this young lady could use a little. I know. I know. There I go again with the gratuitious linking. Sorry.
Hmmm. I wonder if Jane would like to be caged up like that?
Aside from the guilt thing, we were also talking tonight about swinging. Jane's said she doesn't want to go to NCL for the sex, just the voyeurism. Well, that's okay, but... Then in my email, I got an invitation from a couple; okay, it wasn't just me, but it was in my inbox. Hmm, I'd do more than voyeur her. Yes, I would.
Anyway, so I said, why don't we have a party here. And she hemmed and hawed a bit. And I said, okay, who would you invite? I got two couples out of her: Sam & Anne and Paul & Joanne.
And I thought, well, sure, I'd mess around with Anne and Joanne. And then she said, "Well, you guys would be watching on the couch, 'cause I only want to sleep with women."
Hmmm... Well, okay. Maybe we can stand around and every once in a while one of the women will come up from air and suck one of us off.
And maybe I'll just have to add Goofy and Butterfly to the party list.
Well, enough for now, dear reader. Off to see if I can roust Jane for a little quickie.
Okay, probably not. Maybe more like this one. No, truth be told, she's into mild spanking and a little nipple torture, but not much else. This would be way too much for her.
Okay. You got me. I was just looking for a way to get the fetish pictures in here. However, Jane was talking earlier this week about working in a religious community, so I don't think I'm all that far off base here.
Things around the house are quiet. Drew is off with friends at a church gathering; Ralph is at a sleep-over; Miller is alsleep (having fallen off the bed a couple of minutes ago); Jane is asleep with Miller next to her. Would be the ideal time for a romp, with the older boys away and all. Perhaps I should wake her up; a quick slap on her ass would likely do the trick. Alas, alas, there ain't been much sex lately, and I suspect there will not be any tonight.
We did have a nice little fuck the other night; I'd like to tell you all about it, but, actually, I don't really remember. It was one of those 2am screws that in the morning was but a distant memory: I know it was nice, but I don't remember the specifics.
I'm thinking this young lady could use a little. I know. I know. There I go again with the gratuitious linking. Sorry.
Hmmm. I wonder if Jane would like to be caged up like that?
Aside from the guilt thing, we were also talking tonight about swinging. Jane's said she doesn't want to go to NCL for the sex, just the voyeurism. Well, that's okay, but... Then in my email, I got an invitation from a couple; okay, it wasn't just me, but it was in my inbox. Hmm, I'd do more than voyeur her. Yes, I would.
Anyway, so I said, why don't we have a party here. And she hemmed and hawed a bit. And I said, okay, who would you invite? I got two couples out of her: Sam & Anne and Paul & Joanne.
And I thought, well, sure, I'd mess around with Anne and Joanne. And then she said, "Well, you guys would be watching on the couch, 'cause I only want to sleep with women."
Hmmm... Well, okay. Maybe we can stand around and every once in a while one of the women will come up from air and suck one of us off.
And maybe I'll just have to add Goofy and Butterfly to the party list.
Well, enough for now, dear reader. Off to see if I can roust Jane for a little quickie.
Monday, December 27
I'm looking forward to being not so newly wed
Ah, I just love bloggers, you know. Here's an experienced blogger who's killed off at least one blog and recently created another, one that's worth keeping an eye on. This is Sophia from Not-So-Newlywed:
I hope Jane and I are so in synch when we're no longer newly married.
Hmm, and that prose is quite a turn on. Where is Jane? Or will I have to take care of this myself?
After several minutes in that position, he drew back, withdrawing completely from me. He pulled upward on my hip with one hand, the other planted between my shoulder blades, keeping my head and shoulders down. Then he guided himself back towards my pussy. Before he got there, though, he slapped my ass cheek, then used the same hand to dip a finger into me. When his finger was sufficiently wet, he trailed it back slightly to the pucker of my ass. He entered my pussy with his cock, and stopped. With the wet finger, he poked gently at the bud of my ass. When I didn't pull away from his finger, he poked a little harder. At the second poke, I leaned forward a little, pulling away from the finger. When he withdrew his finger, I leaned back onto his cock, and his finger nudged again at my ass, forward, back, forward, back I went, until the rhythm of my actions increased. With each time I leaned back into him, his finger nudged a little harder, until just the tip of it entered my ass.I love her prose.
His hips began pumping into me, each time I'd lean back, and his finger began following my ass, so that just the tip of it stayed inside the pucker of my ass. After several thrusts, he used his other hand to grab a handful of my hair and pull my head up so I was on all fours. He held me still, so I could no longer lean forward and back, and continued thrusting. With each thrust of his cock into my wet pussy, he pushed his finger a little further into my ass. Soon his finger was buried inside of me as his cock was pulling out, pushing in. He slowed his rhythm, and stopped, buried deep with his cock. He pulled his finger out of my ass, and as I groaned, he worked up some saliva in his mouth and let it dribble to where his finger had just been. When I was sufficiently re-wetted, he gradually worked his finger back into my tight bud.
He released my hair and pushed my shoulders back down to the mattress then, with that same hand, swatted my ass. That seemed to set him off, and cock and finger began pumping in and out of me. Both holes being stimulated, I lost myself in the rhythm. When he withdrew his finger and began pumping even faster, I let out a moan that became a series of moans, as his cock seemed to push the noise out of me.
I hope Jane and I are so in synch when we're no longer newly married.
Hmm, and that prose is quite a turn on. Where is Jane? Or will I have to take care of this myself?
Saturday, December 25
Yesterday and two years
Well, yesterday was the second anniversary of the first date Jane and I had. And to think that now little Miller is crawling all over the place. My, how things have changed, and mostly for the better, I might add.
However, and there's always a "however," isn't there, we had a little bit of a fuss yesterday. Everything was fine. I was ill, so I spent the day in bed. Kathleen brought over Drew and Ralph so they could give Miller his gifts. I slept through it all, the sounds of women's chatter and boys' giggles floating up the stairs and through the open door and invading my head like little wavelets. So, far, okay.
Then we went to church. I broke out in a sweat -- the fever popped, but otherwise it was uneventful. Miller was well-behaved, flirting with all the pretty girls. One of the college students was home, and Miller settled into her arms for part of the service, resting his head on the open flesh showing cleavage. And then after church he spent time in the arms of his girlfriend, one of the older middle school girls who just adores him. So far, okay.
On the way home, I pulled in to pick up the mail. Mistake. Beth had send me a Christmas card; I didn't even notice it as I handed the stack of mail to Jane. "Can I open this?" she asked.
"Sure," I replied. I mean, come on, what am I going to say?
She opened it and there was a fairly innocuous card with a gift certificate for a local Italian restaurant. Jane went silent. Livid. All the way home. We got home and I stumbled in with the baby, my illness kicking up a notch. Jane made me soup, silently. She wouldn't talk to me. When pressed, she said she wasn't made at me. Sure, I believe that. Not.
I told Jane I'd write Beth and tell her not to ever write or call me again. Jane said I'd resent her, if I did that. I'm thinking that would be better than the cold shoulder and the silent treatment.
Needless to say, there was no sex commemorating our 2 year anniversary...
However, and there's always a "however," isn't there, we had a little bit of a fuss yesterday. Everything was fine. I was ill, so I spent the day in bed. Kathleen brought over Drew and Ralph so they could give Miller his gifts. I slept through it all, the sounds of women's chatter and boys' giggles floating up the stairs and through the open door and invading my head like little wavelets. So, far, okay.
Then we went to church. I broke out in a sweat -- the fever popped, but otherwise it was uneventful. Miller was well-behaved, flirting with all the pretty girls. One of the college students was home, and Miller settled into her arms for part of the service, resting his head on the open flesh showing cleavage. And then after church he spent time in the arms of his girlfriend, one of the older middle school girls who just adores him. So far, okay.
On the way home, I pulled in to pick up the mail. Mistake. Beth had send me a Christmas card; I didn't even notice it as I handed the stack of mail to Jane. "Can I open this?" she asked.
"Sure," I replied. I mean, come on, what am I going to say?
She opened it and there was a fairly innocuous card with a gift certificate for a local Italian restaurant. Jane went silent. Livid. All the way home. We got home and I stumbled in with the baby, my illness kicking up a notch. Jane made me soup, silently. She wouldn't talk to me. When pressed, she said she wasn't made at me. Sure, I believe that. Not.
I told Jane I'd write Beth and tell her not to ever write or call me again. Jane said I'd resent her, if I did that. I'm thinking that would be better than the cold shoulder and the silent treatment.
Needless to say, there was no sex commemorating our 2 year anniversary...
Wednesday, December 22
What happened next
We necked. We humped. I got so turned on, I wanted her to sit on my face (first time in a while), and Jane told me she was on the tail end of her period. Well, there goes that idea, eh? But, we had a damn good scrump with her on top and me getting lost in her big boobs.
Nice. Very nice.
Nice. Very nice.
Tuesday, December 21
Blog, baby, blog
Last night, Jane put on a little red top thingee, thinking it would announce "Fuck me." Er, the darn baby again... needless to say, it didn't happen. Today, she IM'd me and said she wanted me to put on the santa boxers she bought for me & and 10pm she wanted to sit on my lap and tell me how naughty she's been. Well, here it is 45 minutes after the appointed hour and I'm upstairs online and she's downstairs baking cookies. The baby's asleep on the couch in the living room, but I'm still not getting any. Maybe 'cause I poked fun at Jane this evening. Turns out when she moved here to NC, she never got a driver's license... tonight I find out she didn't get one 'cause it was suspended... I've been harping on her to get license with her married name on it, and she's been avoiding heading off to the DMV. Hmmm...
So, a little while ago I stumbled here and here. Hmmm...
UPDATE: Jane just walked in the room and peered over my shoulder at my blogging... time to spank her and then ram her solid. ((Unless the baby wakes up...))
Bye for now.
So, a little while ago I stumbled here and here. Hmmm...
UPDATE: Jane just walked in the room and peered over my shoulder at my blogging... time to spank her and then ram her solid. ((Unless the baby wakes up...))
Bye for now.
Saturday, December 18
Baggy Lettuce
And the, every once in a while, I just stumble across... hell, I'm not sure what...
I've been thinking recently this blog has slowed and my vanilla blog is all externally focused with me writing about politics and the news and whatever else. There's no me in it.
Today is Saturday, and Jane and Miller have been out of town for a while. Jane took the baby to visit her mother. I couldn't say no, of course, but I wasn't keen on the baby heading up north the land of chicken pox and various viri; Jane's dysfunctional family is also all ill. Jane is returning this evening; I'm at the office right now, attempting to kill off a few "to-do" items.
Jane and I haven't had a lot of sex recently. You likely gathered that. It seems we really only have sex when one of us is about to leave or just gets back. Thursday, the day Jane left, I got up early for a 7am meeting; I went in, and it was cancelled, so I returned home to have breakfast with Jane. We'd thought about sex the night before and all through the night, but somehow it just never happened. Between the baby and sleeping; oh, we had a nice time nestled together, but there wasn't any doing it.
So, we went down the kitchen to have breakfast. Not a real breakfast of eggs and bacon, but a bagel & cream cheese. Jane had English muffin and jelly. We stood in the kitchen holding each other, my hands rubbing her breasts. I was standing behind her, my hard-on pressed up against her. We kissed. We ate bagel & muffin. I rubbed jelly on her breasts and licked it off, pulling the nipples hard into my mouth. I reached over to where a couple of clothes pins were waiting; slowly I put them on her nipples. They squeezed the flesh, tightly, getting red under the pressure.
After more necking and groping, we stripped off our pants. Jane pushed me to the chair in the middle of the room. I sat down against the hard wood, my hard wood sticking straight up. Jane faced me and settled down on my cock, riding it, the wetness dripping down my dick and onto my thighs. I buried my face in her full breasts. After a couple of minutes, Jane said, "Get behind me."
Who am I to argue. I love it that way. She removed herself from the spear; my penis popped out of her wet gash with a popping sound. She stood and turned around, arms on the wooden buffet. She was standing, her legs spread apart, her back parallel to the floor, her arms on the buffet, her head resting against the wood. From behind her, I slipped inside her pussy; the wetness felt so good. We fit so nicely together, my cock in her cunt. She backed up against me and then I started pounding. I looked down and could see my cock riding into her, sloppy. I thought about putting a finger in her ass or maybe driving my cock into it, but I didn't. I drove into her pussy, hard. I banged her so that she moved with the rhythm, bucking against the sideboy, making it hit the wall with our movement. I imagined her head was hitting the wood, and I pushed harder; she pushed her arms against the wood, pushing back. I drove, and I drove.
Finally, I came; my legs buckled slightly; my hands gripped her waist.
Ah, I love having breakfast in the kitchen.
Reminded me of the last time I did it in the kitchen. Before Jane and I met, and it was with the "married woman" and we had some afternoon delight; she was up on the counter, facing me, and I pounded her shaved pussy and buried my head in her huge boobs.
When we'd been making out, Jane made mention of us doing it in the kitchen in front of the window; anyone walking in the alley would have been able to see us, her breasts in plain view in the morning light. She asked if I'd done it in a public place before. I immediately thought of another time when I was with Lisa, a friend of mine from long ago; we went to school together. A couple of years ago, Lisa and I hooked up in Richmond. We met at my hotel room, shared a bottle of wine and a little cheese & crackers. And then, we stood against the large window, looking out over the darkened city. We were on the 10th floor, and well lit. Anyone scanning the hotel would have been able to have seen us. I stood behind her, kissing her neck, my hands traveling her body and holding her breasts. Soon she was on her knees, her blouse and bra off, her skirt hiked up around her waist, her mouth solidily around my hard cock. She sucked my off, and my cum covered her breasts; she took my cock and wiped the wetness around her face. A beautiful sight.
She wrote me recently; seems her husband got a promotion recently and she's moved down her to Raleigh/Durham. I wonder if they'd be into swinging. The four of us could get together... hmmm...
I've been thinking recently this blog has slowed and my vanilla blog is all externally focused with me writing about politics and the news and whatever else. There's no me in it.
Today is Saturday, and Jane and Miller have been out of town for a while. Jane took the baby to visit her mother. I couldn't say no, of course, but I wasn't keen on the baby heading up north the land of chicken pox and various viri; Jane's dysfunctional family is also all ill. Jane is returning this evening; I'm at the office right now, attempting to kill off a few "to-do" items.
Jane and I haven't had a lot of sex recently. You likely gathered that. It seems we really only have sex when one of us is about to leave or just gets back. Thursday, the day Jane left, I got up early for a 7am meeting; I went in, and it was cancelled, so I returned home to have breakfast with Jane. We'd thought about sex the night before and all through the night, but somehow it just never happened. Between the baby and sleeping; oh, we had a nice time nestled together, but there wasn't any doing it.
So, we went down the kitchen to have breakfast. Not a real breakfast of eggs and bacon, but a bagel & cream cheese. Jane had English muffin and jelly. We stood in the kitchen holding each other, my hands rubbing her breasts. I was standing behind her, my hard-on pressed up against her. We kissed. We ate bagel & muffin. I rubbed jelly on her breasts and licked it off, pulling the nipples hard into my mouth. I reached over to where a couple of clothes pins were waiting; slowly I put them on her nipples. They squeezed the flesh, tightly, getting red under the pressure.
After more necking and groping, we stripped off our pants. Jane pushed me to the chair in the middle of the room. I sat down against the hard wood, my hard wood sticking straight up. Jane faced me and settled down on my cock, riding it, the wetness dripping down my dick and onto my thighs. I buried my face in her full breasts. After a couple of minutes, Jane said, "Get behind me."
Who am I to argue. I love it that way. She removed herself from the spear; my penis popped out of her wet gash with a popping sound. She stood and turned around, arms on the wooden buffet. She was standing, her legs spread apart, her back parallel to the floor, her arms on the buffet, her head resting against the wood. From behind her, I slipped inside her pussy; the wetness felt so good. We fit so nicely together, my cock in her cunt. She backed up against me and then I started pounding. I looked down and could see my cock riding into her, sloppy. I thought about putting a finger in her ass or maybe driving my cock into it, but I didn't. I drove into her pussy, hard. I banged her so that she moved with the rhythm, bucking against the sideboy, making it hit the wall with our movement. I imagined her head was hitting the wood, and I pushed harder; she pushed her arms against the wood, pushing back. I drove, and I drove.
Finally, I came; my legs buckled slightly; my hands gripped her waist.
Ah, I love having breakfast in the kitchen.
Reminded me of the last time I did it in the kitchen. Before Jane and I met, and it was with the "married woman" and we had some afternoon delight; she was up on the counter, facing me, and I pounded her shaved pussy and buried my head in her huge boobs.
When we'd been making out, Jane made mention of us doing it in the kitchen in front of the window; anyone walking in the alley would have been able to see us, her breasts in plain view in the morning light. She asked if I'd done it in a public place before. I immediately thought of another time when I was with Lisa, a friend of mine from long ago; we went to school together. A couple of years ago, Lisa and I hooked up in Richmond. We met at my hotel room, shared a bottle of wine and a little cheese & crackers. And then, we stood against the large window, looking out over the darkened city. We were on the 10th floor, and well lit. Anyone scanning the hotel would have been able to have seen us. I stood behind her, kissing her neck, my hands traveling her body and holding her breasts. Soon she was on her knees, her blouse and bra off, her skirt hiked up around her waist, her mouth solidily around my hard cock. She sucked my off, and my cum covered her breasts; she took my cock and wiped the wetness around her face. A beautiful sight.
She wrote me recently; seems her husband got a promotion recently and she's moved down her to Raleigh/Durham. I wonder if they'd be into swinging. The four of us could get together... hmmm...
Tuesday, December 7
One could get lost in here...
Monday, December 6
The baby... is making sex difficult
Infants will do that, you know. The little bugger seems to have a knack for screaming at just the right moment.
Sometimes, in order to get him to sleep, we'll bring him to bed with us. I know. I know. That right there is gonna put a kink in the sex. I know.
So, the other night Miller falls asleep and around three in the morning I shifted his berth, freeing up all sorts of space in our queen-sized bed. Earlier in the evening Jane had broken out the toys: the glass dildo, the silver bullet, and who knows what else. All of it was waiting for me, but, alas, we'd had to move it when Miller decided he was sleeping in the big bed.
So, three in the morning, and Miller's in his own crib. I decide it's time for a little love'n... Jane had been asleep for a hours; that was about to end.
With Miller safely away, I found the glass dildo on the floor. Finding the lube was not so easy; the first tube I found was foot cream; that sure as hell wasn't gonna do for what I had in mind. With the long glass dildo and the lube nearby, I scooted up to Jane and cuddled against her, my hands exploring and my mouth nibbling. I bit on her neck. I pulled her nipples. I pressed up against her ass, and she pushed back against me.
I got rough with her, pulling her head toward me. My hands grasped her hair. I kissed her lips forcefully. I was rough, pulling.
Pretty soon she was wet and ready. "How do you want me?" she asked.
"On your knees," I said. I had a little something in mind. Jane got on her knees and I went for the glass and the lube. I lubed up the glass, and then from behind her I slipped my hard cock into her very wet pussy. Once buried in her pussy, I took the glass dildo and slipped it into her begging ass. Yes, Jane was on our bed, on her knees, her head in the pillows, and my cock was buried in her cunt and a glass dildo was in her ass. In and out. In and out.
When I came, my little white muck dripping out of her slip, I pulled the dildo out of her ass, and then we cuddled softly together.
Last night I wanted a repeat performance. As I was slipping Miller into his crib he woke up and started to scream. Okay, no sex last night.
And then at five this morning I was up to pack and catch a plane. As I write this, I'm at the hotel in New Orleans, my one-bedroom suite more than 700 square feet. And I'm thinking of Jane. And I'm a alone. And broke.
Such as it is.
Sometimes, in order to get him to sleep, we'll bring him to bed with us. I know. I know. That right there is gonna put a kink in the sex. I know.
So, the other night Miller falls asleep and around three in the morning I shifted his berth, freeing up all sorts of space in our queen-sized bed. Earlier in the evening Jane had broken out the toys: the glass dildo, the silver bullet, and who knows what else. All of it was waiting for me, but, alas, we'd had to move it when Miller decided he was sleeping in the big bed.
So, three in the morning, and Miller's in his own crib. I decide it's time for a little love'n... Jane had been asleep for a hours; that was about to end.
With Miller safely away, I found the glass dildo on the floor. Finding the lube was not so easy; the first tube I found was foot cream; that sure as hell wasn't gonna do for what I had in mind. With the long glass dildo and the lube nearby, I scooted up to Jane and cuddled against her, my hands exploring and my mouth nibbling. I bit on her neck. I pulled her nipples. I pressed up against her ass, and she pushed back against me.
I got rough with her, pulling her head toward me. My hands grasped her hair. I kissed her lips forcefully. I was rough, pulling.
Pretty soon she was wet and ready. "How do you want me?" she asked.
"On your knees," I said. I had a little something in mind. Jane got on her knees and I went for the glass and the lube. I lubed up the glass, and then from behind her I slipped my hard cock into her very wet pussy. Once buried in her pussy, I took the glass dildo and slipped it into her begging ass. Yes, Jane was on our bed, on her knees, her head in the pillows, and my cock was buried in her cunt and a glass dildo was in her ass. In and out. In and out.
When I came, my little white muck dripping out of her slip, I pulled the dildo out of her ass, and then we cuddled softly together.
Last night I wanted a repeat performance. As I was slipping Miller into his crib he woke up and started to scream. Okay, no sex last night.
And then at five this morning I was up to pack and catch a plane. As I write this, I'm at the hotel in New Orleans, my one-bedroom suite more than 700 square feet. And I'm thinking of Jane. And I'm a alone. And broke.
Such as it is.
Sunday, December 5
A side job of selling sex toys
Jane's been thinking of starting one of those sex toy businesses. You know the ones: you get friends and friends-of-friends to host parties. I wonder if it would turn out like this, one evening?
Friday, December 3
A person of principle?
I was over at The Plant this morning, and I ran into a guy I used to work with. He asked how the baby was. I told him Miller was growing like weeds. Then I told him Jane and I had gotten married. He said, "I figured you would. You're a man of principles, a stand-up guy."
Hmm... I thought we got married so Jane would stop asking me... ;-)
Hmm... I thought we got married so Jane would stop asking me... ;-)
Tuesday, November 30
I want some. I want some!
On the road. At a Courtyard, hooked online with a new ethernet card. Surfing for free thanks to Marriott. And avoiding work. I have a report to crank out for a customer, but I just can't get my shit in one sack. In part cause I've got sex on my mind. Jane called earlier and wanted to have phone sex, but I wasn't interested. I should'a; perhaps it would'a put my mind at ease.
I like phone sex, when I'm in the mood. I guess that's the same with any sex. In bed, the phone cradled up to my ear, my hand on my cock, her voice in my ear, the heavy breathing. Sort'a like this masturbation video. La petite morte. The little death. Damn straight. Give me some of that little death, eyes rolled back in my had, my spine twisted, my face contorted.
I like phone sex, when I'm in the mood. I guess that's the same with any sex. In bed, the phone cradled up to my ear, my hand on my cock, her voice in my ear, the heavy breathing. Sort'a like this masturbation video. La petite morte. The little death. Damn straight. Give me some of that little death, eyes rolled back in my had, my spine twisted, my face contorted.
