I’ve spent the whole day here at work, trying to think up something interesting to post, some exciting way to work in some descriptive and exciting prose to be read and enjoyed… but I just keep running into the roadblock I alluded to last Thursday (1/22/09)…
…That is, Dee and I had fun last night…
…but why would anybody be surprised? Or wish to read about it? It wasn’t a threesome, and we didn’t climb out on the roof or anything. It was fun, and very enjoyable, and quite satisfying, but… it weren’t nuthin’ we ain’t done before.
I covered the basics of massage-based foreplay, after which I slid down her body and segued into a little tongue loving (I found that, on this occasion, I had a particularly strong NEED to taste her pussy!). We rolled around, I slipped inside her (a delicious feeling), we rolled around some more. I’m fairly certain she had a nice orgasm, as she was (apparently literally) purring in the after-moments.
An all together excellent exchange…
…but I’m just not used to the role of reporting the sensual details of our intimate events. That’s supposed to be her job here.
Friday, January 30, 2009
Thursday, January 29, 2009
Chekhov
Any idiot can face a crisis - it's day to day living that wears you out.
– Anton Chekhov
Today is (well… was) Chekhov’s birthday, and so this quote has showed up a few times in the newsy retrospectives I pay attention to. And I really like that quote. Mostly because I think it’s true.
When the adrenaline is flowing (for good or ill), you feel more alive. You don’t fall asleep, no matter how long the day has been, or how much you’ve had to drink. You’re never too tired to get it on. You don’t zone out in front of the TV after dinner.
Routine, no matter how pleasant, has far fewer invigorating properties.
It’s easy to feel alive when you’re enjoying Vegas as a couple, going to strip clubs, taking in sexy, stimulating shows, and fucking each other wildly about the suite until the air conditioning no longer keeps up with the rising temperature in the room...
...but we can’t run off for four day weekends twice each month – nor would we want to. First, we do have a kid to think about! Plus, it isn’t financially feasible, and even if it were, making these things an everyday event would probably just change the nature of what a “normal” day is. I can’t imagine getting to the point where I thought “oh, dammit, do we really have to go again?” – but I know that could happen. There really is such a thing as too much of a good thing.
This isn’t to say I’m in any way unhappy. I watch the news in the evening (and even keep an eye on it during the day), and I’m constantly reminded how lucky I am – in terms of wife, and family, and life in general.
The past few posts have been the beginnings of a thought process, really... a pondering of how to strike a different balance between the good life we have, and that energized-enhanced vacation mindset. How can we make each day a little less like the former, and little more like the latter? How can we be a little more like our vacation-selves and a little less like our normal-workday-selves on a daily basis?
We had that initial onslaught of email exchanges, and that revved things up for a while, but that seems to have run its course. The dare game spiced things up for a time, but I could sense Dee’s interest waning, and I was running out of realistic-yet-interesting ideas (I have a lot of dares remaining, but they’re mostly either kind of “out there” as far as realistic chances of performing them, or admittedly a little dull), and so that, too, faded away.
The question is, what’s next – for myself, and for us as a couple? It’s a question that I’m responsible for answering (the rules say I’m in charge of these game-type things!). I have a few ideas percolating in my head. In the meantime, as I alluded to in my last post, I’d like to get a little amplitude in my daily adrenaline/energy level.
So I’m thinking about that, as well.
– Anton Chekhov
Today is (well… was) Chekhov’s birthday, and so this quote has showed up a few times in the newsy retrospectives I pay attention to. And I really like that quote. Mostly because I think it’s true.
When the adrenaline is flowing (for good or ill), you feel more alive. You don’t fall asleep, no matter how long the day has been, or how much you’ve had to drink. You’re never too tired to get it on. You don’t zone out in front of the TV after dinner.
Routine, no matter how pleasant, has far fewer invigorating properties.
It’s easy to feel alive when you’re enjoying Vegas as a couple, going to strip clubs, taking in sexy, stimulating shows, and fucking each other wildly about the suite until the air conditioning no longer keeps up with the rising temperature in the room...
...but we can’t run off for four day weekends twice each month – nor would we want to. First, we do have a kid to think about! Plus, it isn’t financially feasible, and even if it were, making these things an everyday event would probably just change the nature of what a “normal” day is. I can’t imagine getting to the point where I thought “oh, dammit, do we really have to go again?” – but I know that could happen. There really is such a thing as too much of a good thing.
This isn’t to say I’m in any way unhappy. I watch the news in the evening (and even keep an eye on it during the day), and I’m constantly reminded how lucky I am – in terms of wife, and family, and life in general.
The past few posts have been the beginnings of a thought process, really... a pondering of how to strike a different balance between the good life we have, and that energized-enhanced vacation mindset. How can we make each day a little less like the former, and little more like the latter? How can we be a little more like our vacation-selves and a little less like our normal-workday-selves on a daily basis?
We had that initial onslaught of email exchanges, and that revved things up for a while, but that seems to have run its course. The dare game spiced things up for a time, but I could sense Dee’s interest waning, and I was running out of realistic-yet-interesting ideas (I have a lot of dares remaining, but they’re mostly either kind of “out there” as far as realistic chances of performing them, or admittedly a little dull), and so that, too, faded away.
The question is, what’s next – for myself, and for us as a couple? It’s a question that I’m responsible for answering (the rules say I’m in charge of these game-type things!). I have a few ideas percolating in my head. In the meantime, as I alluded to in my last post, I’d like to get a little amplitude in my daily adrenaline/energy level.
So I’m thinking about that, as well.
Wednesday, January 28, 2009
Energy
“How sad is it that I’m too tired to have sex? That’s just wrong.”
That’s what Dee said to me last night, and it got me to thinking… I eat pretty healthy, I take a walk at lunch, I don’t drink a lot of caffeine, all the usual things you’re supposed to do to feel naturally energized. Dee does all these things, too. I don’t have trouble waking up in the morning, and can say that (most days, at least) I don’t feel particularly tired during the day.
And yet, most nights, by the time I climb into bed, I’m fairly wiped out. When she said what she said, I knew exactly how she felt. It’s not a lack of interest – it’s just that, at the end of the day, it’s so damn nice to just lay there, relaxed and comfortable, and drift off (even if it takes a bit of time for the drifting to happen). I think Dee feels the same way a lot of the time (though probably not as often as I do).
It’s not a big thing, this end-of-day energy drain… nothing that causes me worry or concern, but there are times when it makes me feel a little old. I remember my younger days, when running for weeks at a time on four hours of sleep, fast food, and 2-liters of Mountain Dew (more often than not, laced with pints of Southern Comfort) was a normal routine.
I’m not looking to regain that kind of insanity, but the high-energy point in my day comes sometime mid-morning these days. It’d be nice if I could trade some of my useless work productivity, and transfer that energy to more noble pursuits… like providing Dee with an energetic evening fuck.
That’s all I’m saying.
I’m considering some options that may (or may not) increase my evening energy levels – things like revving up through the use of energy drinks – having a Red Bull (the sugar free version) or whatever else is out there (even just a good dose of the caffeine-laced Crystal Light drinks) with dinner. Though I do worry that this idea will lead to sleepless nights and miserable mornings – I’m not a kid anymore.
I’m also wondering if I should get up a little earlier, and have a better breakfast at home (rather than a quick bite at my desk at work). In addition, I’m thinking a time-shift in my evening might be worth a try – staying up a bit longer, especially in the summertime, when it stays light longer anyways, and doing something productive with the extra hour. It seems counterproductive to suggest that less sleep would lead to more energy, but, historically, that’s the way my metabolism has worked.
I could just eat oysters. But I tried them once, and didn’t particularly like them.
That’s what Dee said to me last night, and it got me to thinking… I eat pretty healthy, I take a walk at lunch, I don’t drink a lot of caffeine, all the usual things you’re supposed to do to feel naturally energized. Dee does all these things, too. I don’t have trouble waking up in the morning, and can say that (most days, at least) I don’t feel particularly tired during the day.
And yet, most nights, by the time I climb into bed, I’m fairly wiped out. When she said what she said, I knew exactly how she felt. It’s not a lack of interest – it’s just that, at the end of the day, it’s so damn nice to just lay there, relaxed and comfortable, and drift off (even if it takes a bit of time for the drifting to happen). I think Dee feels the same way a lot of the time (though probably not as often as I do).
It’s not a big thing, this end-of-day energy drain… nothing that causes me worry or concern, but there are times when it makes me feel a little old. I remember my younger days, when running for weeks at a time on four hours of sleep, fast food, and 2-liters of Mountain Dew (more often than not, laced with pints of Southern Comfort) was a normal routine.
I’m not looking to regain that kind of insanity, but the high-energy point in my day comes sometime mid-morning these days. It’d be nice if I could trade some of my useless work productivity, and transfer that energy to more noble pursuits… like providing Dee with an energetic evening fuck.
That’s all I’m saying.
I’m considering some options that may (or may not) increase my evening energy levels – things like revving up through the use of energy drinks – having a Red Bull (the sugar free version) or whatever else is out there (even just a good dose of the caffeine-laced Crystal Light drinks) with dinner. Though I do worry that this idea will lead to sleepless nights and miserable mornings – I’m not a kid anymore.
I’m also wondering if I should get up a little earlier, and have a better breakfast at home (rather than a quick bite at my desk at work). In addition, I’m thinking a time-shift in my evening might be worth a try – staying up a bit longer, especially in the summertime, when it stays light longer anyways, and doing something productive with the extra hour. It seems counterproductive to suggest that less sleep would lead to more energy, but, historically, that’s the way my metabolism has worked.
I could just eat oysters. But I tried them once, and didn’t particularly like them.
Tuesday, January 27, 2009
Mental Evolution
One of the puzzles I haven’t solved is why there is such a disconnect between what I feel and my actions. I feel bold, aggressive, and sexual, but I realize that, in terms of action, I don’t outwardly appear to be so – not even to Dee. I think and fantasize in daring and assertive tones, but never put these internal characteristics into practice.
Even now, it’s easy for me to sit at my desk at work and think, “After the kid is tucked in, I’m gonna curl up on the sofa with Dee and let her suck my cock” (our rules require that I initiate one blowjob per week) -- but actually doing that… isn’t so easy for me. I’m sure that part of it is related to the tendency to follow I shared on 1/23/09, but I think there are other factors involved, as well.
Over the years, my interest in sex hasn’t changed much, but my viewpoint has varied through the normal course of time, just as everyone else’s has. Still, throughout my life, for some unexplainable reason, this disconnect has always been there.
In my own psycho-sexual evolution, naïve anticipation for the unknown became the imaginary explorations of an inexperienced youth. I fantasized about sex and blowjobs and tits and alternative positions, but never revealed these thoughts to any sexual partner (and there weren’t that many to begin with). I timidly followed wherever my partners led, and, lacking confidence and fearing a negative reaction, couldn’t summon the nerve to so much as admit the dirty little secret that I wanted to do it doggie style.
Eventually, these youthful fantasies evolved into adult desires. In practice, I did gain some experience, a hint of confidence, and a beginner’s grasp of what it was all about. In my head, my fantasies became more expansive in scope, more daring and experimental, and broader in variety. I pictured myself enjoying threesomes, and anal sex, and even orgies. An untold number of scenarios paraded through my head, and I finally acknowledged that my only option was to admit these thoughts existed. But even as the horniness that comes from wanting to experience everything sex had to offer hit me, I found I had become simultaneously entangled in two very different nets…
First, by the time I was finally ready to admit I had these thoughts, I was married to Dee, and this was, in truth, a great impediment to my sexual growth. In a way I suspect is not unlike a woman who has been faking orgasms for years (and then suddenly considers revealing the truth to her lover), I couldn’t imagine coming clean – honey, sorry to tell you this, bit I’ve basically been lying and keeping things from you for a decade now. I couldn’t help but worry over what Dee’s reaction would be. For a long time, it was just easier to keep silent, and not worry about it.
Second, and perhaps both more insidious and more challenging, I had become (and still am) so accustomed to being the silent follower, so used to not acknowledging these thoughts (let alone acting on them), that the habit has become my natural character. It seems strange (in an uncomfortable this-isn’t-me kind of way) to act in a sexual manner. As I posted on 9/25/08, just the idea of “checking out” another woman feels wrong.
This is really the struggle to make a conscious change to a deeply set habitual behavior. I compare this to a simple (albeit silly) example: Imagine you’ve spent the past 20 years calling everyone you know (or meet) “dude,” but now wish to not only stop the practice, but replace it with a more respectful one (calling people “sir” or “ma’am” as the case may be). Not only is it tough to stop the previous habit, but forcing yourself to stick to the new plan is a true challenge, as well. And when you succeed, those who know you inadvertently make things harder. They stop and stare, and note the change. They ask if you are feeling ok, or blurt out “dude… what the hell is wrong with you?”
We’ve pretty well transcended that first by communicating openly and plainly for some 14 months now. Now, it’s mostly about getting out of that second net. That’s mostly on me. And that’s mostly what this year (and my resolutions) is about. Things have started out slowly… but I accept that. These things take time.
Even now, it’s easy for me to sit at my desk at work and think, “After the kid is tucked in, I’m gonna curl up on the sofa with Dee and let her suck my cock” (our rules require that I initiate one blowjob per week) -- but actually doing that… isn’t so easy for me. I’m sure that part of it is related to the tendency to follow I shared on 1/23/09, but I think there are other factors involved, as well.
Over the years, my interest in sex hasn’t changed much, but my viewpoint has varied through the normal course of time, just as everyone else’s has. Still, throughout my life, for some unexplainable reason, this disconnect has always been there.
In my own psycho-sexual evolution, naïve anticipation for the unknown became the imaginary explorations of an inexperienced youth. I fantasized about sex and blowjobs and tits and alternative positions, but never revealed these thoughts to any sexual partner (and there weren’t that many to begin with). I timidly followed wherever my partners led, and, lacking confidence and fearing a negative reaction, couldn’t summon the nerve to so much as admit the dirty little secret that I wanted to do it doggie style.
Eventually, these youthful fantasies evolved into adult desires. In practice, I did gain some experience, a hint of confidence, and a beginner’s grasp of what it was all about. In my head, my fantasies became more expansive in scope, more daring and experimental, and broader in variety. I pictured myself enjoying threesomes, and anal sex, and even orgies. An untold number of scenarios paraded through my head, and I finally acknowledged that my only option was to admit these thoughts existed. But even as the horniness that comes from wanting to experience everything sex had to offer hit me, I found I had become simultaneously entangled in two very different nets…
First, by the time I was finally ready to admit I had these thoughts, I was married to Dee, and this was, in truth, a great impediment to my sexual growth. In a way I suspect is not unlike a woman who has been faking orgasms for years (and then suddenly considers revealing the truth to her lover), I couldn’t imagine coming clean – honey, sorry to tell you this, bit I’ve basically been lying and keeping things from you for a decade now. I couldn’t help but worry over what Dee’s reaction would be. For a long time, it was just easier to keep silent, and not worry about it.
Second, and perhaps both more insidious and more challenging, I had become (and still am) so accustomed to being the silent follower, so used to not acknowledging these thoughts (let alone acting on them), that the habit has become my natural character. It seems strange (in an uncomfortable this-isn’t-me kind of way) to act in a sexual manner. As I posted on 9/25/08, just the idea of “checking out” another woman feels wrong.
This is really the struggle to make a conscious change to a deeply set habitual behavior. I compare this to a simple (albeit silly) example: Imagine you’ve spent the past 20 years calling everyone you know (or meet) “dude,” but now wish to not only stop the practice, but replace it with a more respectful one (calling people “sir” or “ma’am” as the case may be). Not only is it tough to stop the previous habit, but forcing yourself to stick to the new plan is a true challenge, as well. And when you succeed, those who know you inadvertently make things harder. They stop and stare, and note the change. They ask if you are feeling ok, or blurt out “dude… what the hell is wrong with you?”
We’ve pretty well transcended that first by communicating openly and plainly for some 14 months now. Now, it’s mostly about getting out of that second net. That’s mostly on me. And that’s mostly what this year (and my resolutions) is about. Things have started out slowly… but I accept that. These things take time.
Friday, January 23, 2009
Oxymorons
I used to think I was a chameleon. In the past (this would be back in the bad old days of high school and college), whenever I was fooling around with a girl, I would mirror her behavioral output – this seemed to be my natural tendency. If she was acting aggressive, forward, and sexual, I would, after a delay to acclimate myself, act more sexual in return. When she was acting shy, my tendency was to retreat and become even more tentative. As a result, I don’t think I’ve ever initiated a first kiss, and probably never really initiated sex… at least not until long after Dee and I were married.
In the past year, I’ve come to understand I’m not the chameleon I thought I was – sexually speaking I’m actually a tentative follower who likes to feel he’s in control… an oxymoron if ever there was one. Still, it’s an apt description: I like to feel as though I’m initiating and guiding things, but – to coin a phrase – I need an engraved invitation (or, more often then not, repeated invitations) before I’ll initiate anything or guide you anywhere at all. Further, I’m only comfortable when I’m led towards (or invited to visit) safe and familiar territories.
In retrospect, I realize that what I needed (and could still use) was a hefty dose of self-confidence when it comes to how I approach women, and how I view the guy I see in the mirror. I also see that there eventually came a time in each relationship (or potential relationship) when I was expected to take over and lead the way… something that just never happened. As a result, in my less rosy moments, I can look back on my life and see it as a series of potential life experiences (both sexual and not) that I let slip away.
Dee has told me in the past that she likes to be “eased into things” – a description I now recognize fits my own particulars, as well. I like the image of wading slowly into water, testing the temperature, the depth, etc. Getting used to the sensations over time, and deciding, on a moment-by-moment basis whether to move further forward, or return to the safety of the shore. Sadly, when I’m testing waters I really DO want to swim in, I still have to wade in slowly, with Dee tugging at my arm, leading me slowly away from shore. And when I’m not sure I want to swim… I might only take a small step forward once each year.
Of course, Dee has also told me she likes to “jump in,” too, subjecting me to her own oxymoronic brand… somehow suggesting I ought to ease her into the water by encouraging her to leap off the diving board… without pushing her off. (Oy!)
Admittedly, between the two of us, Dee definitely has the tougher time… I’m a complex collection of oxymorons. I’m a follower who likes to be in control. I think of myself as dominant… but not aggressive – which means I find aggressiveness and submissiveness appealing (go ahead… try being both at the same time). I like to be in control, but hate having to give direction – and thus when Dee fails to read my mind, I get grumpy, and if forced to make requests, I get annoyed (even when my requests are fulfilled). And to continue the metaphor, I am moody, stubborn, and rather unpleasant when being led away from the safety of the shore… even when I’ve specifically said I want to go swimming.
What’s a girl to do? She’s asked me that many times, and I never have an answer. I’m a mystery, even to me.
Luckily, Dee apparently likes a good, frustrating mystery. :)
In the past year, I’ve come to understand I’m not the chameleon I thought I was – sexually speaking I’m actually a tentative follower who likes to feel he’s in control… an oxymoron if ever there was one. Still, it’s an apt description: I like to feel as though I’m initiating and guiding things, but – to coin a phrase – I need an engraved invitation (or, more often then not, repeated invitations) before I’ll initiate anything or guide you anywhere at all. Further, I’m only comfortable when I’m led towards (or invited to visit) safe and familiar territories.
In retrospect, I realize that what I needed (and could still use) was a hefty dose of self-confidence when it comes to how I approach women, and how I view the guy I see in the mirror. I also see that there eventually came a time in each relationship (or potential relationship) when I was expected to take over and lead the way… something that just never happened. As a result, in my less rosy moments, I can look back on my life and see it as a series of potential life experiences (both sexual and not) that I let slip away.
Dee has told me in the past that she likes to be “eased into things” – a description I now recognize fits my own particulars, as well. I like the image of wading slowly into water, testing the temperature, the depth, etc. Getting used to the sensations over time, and deciding, on a moment-by-moment basis whether to move further forward, or return to the safety of the shore. Sadly, when I’m testing waters I really DO want to swim in, I still have to wade in slowly, with Dee tugging at my arm, leading me slowly away from shore. And when I’m not sure I want to swim… I might only take a small step forward once each year.
Of course, Dee has also told me she likes to “jump in,” too, subjecting me to her own oxymoronic brand… somehow suggesting I ought to ease her into the water by encouraging her to leap off the diving board… without pushing her off. (Oy!)
Admittedly, between the two of us, Dee definitely has the tougher time… I’m a complex collection of oxymorons. I’m a follower who likes to be in control. I think of myself as dominant… but not aggressive – which means I find aggressiveness and submissiveness appealing (go ahead… try being both at the same time). I like to be in control, but hate having to give direction – and thus when Dee fails to read my mind, I get grumpy, and if forced to make requests, I get annoyed (even when my requests are fulfilled). And to continue the metaphor, I am moody, stubborn, and rather unpleasant when being led away from the safety of the shore… even when I’ve specifically said I want to go swimming.
What’s a girl to do? She’s asked me that many times, and I never have an answer. I’m a mystery, even to me.
Luckily, Dee apparently likes a good, frustrating mystery. :)
Thursday, January 22, 2009
Marriage vs. Dating
When you’re married for over a decade – and you still WANT to be married – you think marriage is a great thing. And that’s were I’m at. I’m happy, I still think she looks great naked, and (in spite of all those frustrating little quirks she has that drive me NUTS) I still like having her around. Still, after watching an episode of Friends (in which one of the characters laments all she’ll be giving up by getting married), I got to thinking about the differences between dating and marriage, and realized marriage does take away something that might be impossible to bring back into the relationship.
In my last post I typed: This, I think, is tied to the hidden thrill I get from knowing things about Dee… things that NO ONE else knows...
What I said is somewhat inaccurate – the word “thrill” suggests a serious turn on, and that isn’t really a spot-on description. There used to be a thrill there, but now… ?
Allow me to explain: I remember sitting down around at the dinner table – surrounded by my horrifyingly conservative parents here, my dorky brother and ditzy sister there – and looking over at Dee, thinking: Just ten minutes ago we were fooling around downstairs… just ten minutes ago I was in her mouth…
And I remember her looking back at me, the corners of her mouth turn up, and I knew she was thinking these same thoughts.
There was a naughtiness to it… a feeling of drawing outside the lines. Of rebelling. A shared secret. A sense of the taboo. And that’s what’s forever missing once you’re married.
First off… sexually speaking, whatever 'it' is, it’s not really a secret. Everyone knows I’ve seen Dee naked, and nobody cares. Back in high school, if a guy got to second base, and told his friends about it, he’d invariably get a response (“You got to see her rack? …(*chuckle*)… NICE!”).
Now…? I see Dee naked on a regular basis, and nobody seems particularly surprised.
Everyone knows we’ve done it, and nobody cares. We have a kid, and I’m pretty sure even my conservative parents – and everyone else on the planet -- know how that happened.
My parents come for a visit, and we sit at the dinner table… but the secrets contained in our glances are no longer sexual, and the turn on isn’t there (we do roll our eyes at the conservative opinions they express). When in the midst of public interactions (at a party, socializing with friends, for example), my mind does often turn to the subjects I expressed – the fact that I know what she looks like naked, etc. – but even when our eyes meet… it’s really not the same.
Ask anyone at the party if they think Dee and I have slept together, and the best you’ll get is “Well… duh… yeah. Pass me the salsa, will ya?”
There’s no naughtiness left… that little (albeit adolescent) thrill is removed.
I think this might be part of the reason people have affairs, and why couples seek out new experiences, new thrills. They tie each other up, or post x-rated views of their fun on the Internet. They have threesomes, and broaden their horizons. And all of it is fun (or, if they don’t find it to their liking, it still remains thrilling to have tried!).
But I wonder… is it really all just an attempt to recapture this one powerful thrill from our youth… an attempt to recreate the feeling we get when we have a shared intimacy, a naughty secret that we share with one special person… and only that one person?
In my last post I typed: This, I think, is tied to the hidden thrill I get from knowing things about Dee… things that NO ONE else knows...
What I said is somewhat inaccurate – the word “thrill” suggests a serious turn on, and that isn’t really a spot-on description. There used to be a thrill there, but now… ?
Allow me to explain: I remember sitting down around at the dinner table – surrounded by my horrifyingly conservative parents here, my dorky brother and ditzy sister there – and looking over at Dee, thinking: Just ten minutes ago we were fooling around downstairs… just ten minutes ago I was in her mouth…
And I remember her looking back at me, the corners of her mouth turn up, and I knew she was thinking these same thoughts.
There was a naughtiness to it… a feeling of drawing outside the lines. Of rebelling. A shared secret. A sense of the taboo. And that’s what’s forever missing once you’re married.
First off… sexually speaking, whatever 'it' is, it’s not really a secret. Everyone knows I’ve seen Dee naked, and nobody cares. Back in high school, if a guy got to second base, and told his friends about it, he’d invariably get a response (“You got to see her rack? …(*chuckle*)… NICE!”).
Now…? I see Dee naked on a regular basis, and nobody seems particularly surprised.
Everyone knows we’ve done it, and nobody cares. We have a kid, and I’m pretty sure even my conservative parents – and everyone else on the planet -- know how that happened.
My parents come for a visit, and we sit at the dinner table… but the secrets contained in our glances are no longer sexual, and the turn on isn’t there (we do roll our eyes at the conservative opinions they express). When in the midst of public interactions (at a party, socializing with friends, for example), my mind does often turn to the subjects I expressed – the fact that I know what she looks like naked, etc. – but even when our eyes meet… it’s really not the same.
Ask anyone at the party if they think Dee and I have slept together, and the best you’ll get is “Well… duh… yeah. Pass me the salsa, will ya?”
There’s no naughtiness left… that little (albeit adolescent) thrill is removed.
I think this might be part of the reason people have affairs, and why couples seek out new experiences, new thrills. They tie each other up, or post x-rated views of their fun on the Internet. They have threesomes, and broaden their horizons. And all of it is fun (or, if they don’t find it to their liking, it still remains thrilling to have tried!).
But I wonder… is it really all just an attempt to recapture this one powerful thrill from our youth… an attempt to recreate the feeling we get when we have a shared intimacy, a naughty secret that we share with one special person… and only that one person?
Tuesday, January 20, 2009
Pain or no pain...
I was away for the weekend and while DH and I were texting a bit, it's just not the same as being with him. So when I got home I was ready to drink him in. We went to bed and I entwined my body around his, smelling his wonderful scent and being warmed by his lovely big hands. I love kissing his face, his beard tickling my nose. I pulled his lips into mine and sucked gently, flicking my tongue against his until he at last responded. I knew he was holding back because of he was worried about the pain my back had been causing me.
He turned me on my side so that he could massage my back, which he knows I love. He has recently begun to focus some attention on my back, which is an erogenous zone for me. Feeling his hands kneading my sore muscles and feeling his lips caressing the soft skin, my pussy lit up and my body started to hum with electricity.
He moved his hands to my side and hip, and then to my breasts. I love feeling his hands slip over my curves, heading to my nipples where he pulls and tugs until they are standing at attention. I reached back between us and found his hard cock, stroking it, pulling him towards me with it.
I spread my legs a bit so that I could nestle his cock between my pussy lips, where I could warm it in my moist folds. I started to rock a little, almost imperceptibly, but I had positioned the tip just at the opening of my vagina so each little rock nudged the edge of my clit and I could feel the wetness build.
I love when my pussy gets so wet that his cock just slips inside. Knowing how wet I was getting, I took his cock in my hand and dipped it in my pussy juices so that I could slip it between my cheeks. I was stroking his cock up and down my ass and then between my pussy lips.
The feeling of his hard cock against my ass was so good, I started pushing back against his cock, rubbing his cock against my rosebud. He realized what I was doing and flipped me onto my stomach, pinning my fingers against my clit, which is my favorite position. With him stroking my ass and pushing his weight onto my clit, which was against my fingers, he pushed me into one of the most amazing orgasms I've ever had. I was beyond over the edge, by the time my pussy spasms subsided, I was a drooling puddle of quivering flesh.
But he was not done with me, not even close. With one swift motion, he buried his cock in my pussy. Arching his back, he stroked my gspot while leaning down to bite my shoulder. He continued stroking and I reveled in the smooth velvet covered hardness inside me.
I moaned as he pulled out completely, only to moan loader as he pushed his cock into my ass and held it still for a moment. My fingers found their way back to my clit as his cock filled my ass. Oh my god the intense feeling when he does that is amazing. We moved together as he pounded my ass and I ground my clit into my fingers. I pulled him in as far as I could by clenching and unclenching my ass with every stroke. He was pounding faster and faster and I was rubbing harder and harder until I heard his gasp and I knew he was about to come. I arched my ass high in the air and pushed my fingers into my pussy, pushing my clit into my pelvic bone as hard as I could and we were both exploding into orgasm at the same time.
Definitely something worth repeating, even when my back isn't sore...
He turned me on my side so that he could massage my back, which he knows I love. He has recently begun to focus some attention on my back, which is an erogenous zone for me. Feeling his hands kneading my sore muscles and feeling his lips caressing the soft skin, my pussy lit up and my body started to hum with electricity.
He moved his hands to my side and hip, and then to my breasts. I love feeling his hands slip over my curves, heading to my nipples where he pulls and tugs until they are standing at attention. I reached back between us and found his hard cock, stroking it, pulling him towards me with it.
I spread my legs a bit so that I could nestle his cock between my pussy lips, where I could warm it in my moist folds. I started to rock a little, almost imperceptibly, but I had positioned the tip just at the opening of my vagina so each little rock nudged the edge of my clit and I could feel the wetness build.
I love when my pussy gets so wet that his cock just slips inside. Knowing how wet I was getting, I took his cock in my hand and dipped it in my pussy juices so that I could slip it between my cheeks. I was stroking his cock up and down my ass and then between my pussy lips.
The feeling of his hard cock against my ass was so good, I started pushing back against his cock, rubbing his cock against my rosebud. He realized what I was doing and flipped me onto my stomach, pinning my fingers against my clit, which is my favorite position. With him stroking my ass and pushing his weight onto my clit, which was against my fingers, he pushed me into one of the most amazing orgasms I've ever had. I was beyond over the edge, by the time my pussy spasms subsided, I was a drooling puddle of quivering flesh.
But he was not done with me, not even close. With one swift motion, he buried his cock in my pussy. Arching his back, he stroked my gspot while leaning down to bite my shoulder. He continued stroking and I reveled in the smooth velvet covered hardness inside me.
I moaned as he pulled out completely, only to moan loader as he pushed his cock into my ass and held it still for a moment. My fingers found their way back to my clit as his cock filled my ass. Oh my god the intense feeling when he does that is amazing. We moved together as he pounded my ass and I ground my clit into my fingers. I pulled him in as far as I could by clenching and unclenching my ass with every stroke. He was pounding faster and faster and I was rubbing harder and harder until I heard his gasp and I knew he was about to come. I arched my ass high in the air and pushed my fingers into my pussy, pushing my clit into my pelvic bone as hard as I could and we were both exploding into orgasm at the same time.
Definitely something worth repeating, even when my back isn't sore...
Monday, January 19, 2009
First Thoughts
Whenever I meet someone, one of the first thoughts that zips through my head is to wonder what he/she is like sexually. It makes no difference if the matter of the moment is a friend I’ve known for a while or an attractive woman in a passing car. My thoughts are never gender specific – guy, gal, or couple (and, in the case of a couple, I’ll sometimes look at her first, sometimes him) – somewhere along the line, more often than not, I’ll find myself giving the subject at least a moment’s consideration.
Sometimes these thoughts are general, other times focused on specifics. Sometimes they’re questions, while at other times my first impression will run strong enough to become fact in my own mind. These thoughts seem to come from nowhere, and (to my mind) feel entirely random, but there is some pattern to them.
I find a degree of fascination in the holding of intimate knowledge. When chatting with couples, I often look from one to the other and think: You know what he/she likes… and then proceed to ponder what secrets each might be able to tell. What particular, unique act turns each of them on? What have they shared with each other that would, if revealed, be embarrassing to them?
[This, I think, is tied to the hidden thrill I get from knowing things about what Dee… things that NO ONE else knows. After you’ve been together a while, there’s a deep connection between two people in these things… knowing what you each look like naked, what sounds arise from within at as you come, the naughty, explicit turn-ons nobody else knows.]
When dealing with individuals, especially upon first meeting, I tend to ponder the basics: What does s/he look like naked? What particular predilection really drives him/her wild? Has s/he ever had a threesome? Is s/he aggressive… or timid?
The thoughts can be positive, or pseudo-negative. For example, when I see the (stereotypical) chain-smoking, scrubble-faced, guy with mossy teeth on the news describing how fast the river rose, forcing him, his wife, his five kids, and their six dogs to run for their lives… again, and how this time, after everything dries out, he’s gonna put the trailer up on blocks like it’s s’posed to be... the first thing I think is… he’s got a wife? Kids? Someone actually fucks him? Eeeeew!
Usually, however, the thoughts are positive.
Occasionally these musings are a mild turn-on, but most of the time they are merely simple clinical analyses. As mentioned earlier in this blog, it’s actually been quite some time since I’ve really noticed anyone besides Dee – in a sexual, whoa-isn’t-she-hot way, that is – so, while I frequently think about these things, my thoughts all have a decidedly academic flavor: Interesting… the waitress is pretty good looking, and I’m getting a serious 'threesome-friendly' vibe from her… so… let's see... what appetizers do they have here?
It’s kind of sad, really. I think about sex a lot, but most of the time it's not in a way that gets my heart pumping. I have no idea why this is.
Sometimes these thoughts are general, other times focused on specifics. Sometimes they’re questions, while at other times my first impression will run strong enough to become fact in my own mind. These thoughts seem to come from nowhere, and (to my mind) feel entirely random, but there is some pattern to them.
I find a degree of fascination in the holding of intimate knowledge. When chatting with couples, I often look from one to the other and think: You know what he/she likes… and then proceed to ponder what secrets each might be able to tell. What particular, unique act turns each of them on? What have they shared with each other that would, if revealed, be embarrassing to them?
[This, I think, is tied to the hidden thrill I get from knowing things about what Dee… things that NO ONE else knows. After you’ve been together a while, there’s a deep connection between two people in these things… knowing what you each look like naked, what sounds arise from within at as you come, the naughty, explicit turn-ons nobody else knows.]
When dealing with individuals, especially upon first meeting, I tend to ponder the basics: What does s/he look like naked? What particular predilection really drives him/her wild? Has s/he ever had a threesome? Is s/he aggressive… or timid?
The thoughts can be positive, or pseudo-negative. For example, when I see the (stereotypical) chain-smoking, scrubble-faced, guy with mossy teeth on the news describing how fast the river rose, forcing him, his wife, his five kids, and their six dogs to run for their lives… again, and how this time, after everything dries out, he’s gonna put the trailer up on blocks like it’s s’posed to be... the first thing I think is… he’s got a wife? Kids? Someone actually fucks him? Eeeeew!
Usually, however, the thoughts are positive.
Occasionally these musings are a mild turn-on, but most of the time they are merely simple clinical analyses. As mentioned earlier in this blog, it’s actually been quite some time since I’ve really noticed anyone besides Dee – in a sexual, whoa-isn’t-she-hot way, that is – so, while I frequently think about these things, my thoughts all have a decidedly academic flavor: Interesting… the waitress is pretty good looking, and I’m getting a serious 'threesome-friendly' vibe from her… so… let's see... what appetizers do they have here?
It’s kind of sad, really. I think about sex a lot, but most of the time it's not in a way that gets my heart pumping. I have no idea why this is.
Thursday, January 15, 2009
Early Results
My New Year’s resolutions were: (1) To do a better job of living by our rules, as well reviving the dare game in some less organized fashion; and (2) To make use of my laptop – get more into blogging, Facebook, etc., as well as writing some short stories (erotic tales), and other little things.
I’ve been blogging more diligently and I’ve got a Facebook page up and running, as well as a few other things. I think it’s fair to day I’m starting out the year fairly well on that one. The first resolution, however, is suffering a bit, though some of that is out of my control – or, more accurately, the circumstances dictate that letting things slide is in the best interest of the long term future for Dee, and the better part of valor on my part.
For example, the rules say Dee and I are required to fuck twice each week -- once by my initiation, once by hers. Dee is also supposed to be providing me with two blowjobs a week (BTW, these are mutually agreed upon rules, and the blowjobs were ALL Dee’s idea – can you see why I married the woman!?!), but given the status of Dee’s tweaked back, I’m quite sure that such frequent activity would do long term harm, and possibly even turn the problem into something chronic.
So… I haven’t been focusing on the rules to the degree I’d originally hoped to when I made this resolution, but I’m content in my reasons for letting things slide, even this early into the new year.
Dee should be taking things easy. The trouble is, when she climbs in bed naked and starts getting me going, I have difficulty putting the brakes on things. Take Monday night, for example… we curled up in bed, Dee laying with her back to me. I began massaging her lower back, where it hurts, trying to use my hands to warm and relax the pain there, giving no thought whatsoever to sex – at least not until she reached back and began to stroke me…
It was only a matter of time before I rolled her over, face down on the bed. She tucked her hands beneath her, grinding her clit against her fingers, and, as I lowered my body onto hers, she spread her legs invitingly. Reading her movements, the way she opened herself to me, I understood what she wanted. I wrapped my fingers around my cock, already slick with her juices, leaned forward, and eased it gently into her ass.
It’s am amazing feeling… giving Dee a long, slow fuck in the ass, feeling her move beneath me, hearing her … and then reaching down between her legs, sliding my thumb into her pussy, and pleasuring her with a little dual penetration action… oh, my.
I’ve been blogging more diligently and I’ve got a Facebook page up and running, as well as a few other things. I think it’s fair to day I’m starting out the year fairly well on that one. The first resolution, however, is suffering a bit, though some of that is out of my control – or, more accurately, the circumstances dictate that letting things slide is in the best interest of the long term future for Dee, and the better part of valor on my part.
For example, the rules say Dee and I are required to fuck twice each week -- once by my initiation, once by hers. Dee is also supposed to be providing me with two blowjobs a week (BTW, these are mutually agreed upon rules, and the blowjobs were ALL Dee’s idea – can you see why I married the woman!?!), but given the status of Dee’s tweaked back, I’m quite sure that such frequent activity would do long term harm, and possibly even turn the problem into something chronic.
So… I haven’t been focusing on the rules to the degree I’d originally hoped to when I made this resolution, but I’m content in my reasons for letting things slide, even this early into the new year.
Dee should be taking things easy. The trouble is, when she climbs in bed naked and starts getting me going, I have difficulty putting the brakes on things. Take Monday night, for example… we curled up in bed, Dee laying with her back to me. I began massaging her lower back, where it hurts, trying to use my hands to warm and relax the pain there, giving no thought whatsoever to sex – at least not until she reached back and began to stroke me…
It was only a matter of time before I rolled her over, face down on the bed. She tucked her hands beneath her, grinding her clit against her fingers, and, as I lowered my body onto hers, she spread her legs invitingly. Reading her movements, the way she opened herself to me, I understood what she wanted. I wrapped my fingers around my cock, already slick with her juices, leaned forward, and eased it gently into her ass.
It’s am amazing feeling… giving Dee a long, slow fuck in the ass, feeling her move beneath me, hearing her … and then reaching down between her legs, sliding my thumb into her pussy, and pleasuring her with a little dual penetration action… oh, my.
Wednesday, January 14, 2009
Still trying...
Dee’s back continues to bother her. In spite of that, we did have ourselves a nice little encounter the night before last (which, admittedly, might have aggravated the problem, and made last night all the more painful for her).
I have held off on posting about our encounter because I was HOPING that I’d see something from her on the matter (after all, she did promise to be more diligent about posting this year!). Also, from my perspective, it seemed that I was particularly effective in delivering an above average experience in terms of pleasure, so I thought maybe I’d be able to read something confirming my perceptions…
… in other words, I was kind of hoping I’d read something here about how I totally rocked her world! (Come on… a little complimentary blogging is always nice for the ego!)
Nary a word.
I guess I’ll just have to try harder next time.
I have held off on posting about our encounter because I was HOPING that I’d see something from her on the matter (after all, she did promise to be more diligent about posting this year!). Also, from my perspective, it seemed that I was particularly effective in delivering an above average experience in terms of pleasure, so I thought maybe I’d be able to read something confirming my perceptions…
… in other words, I was kind of hoping I’d read something here about how I totally rocked her world! (Come on… a little complimentary blogging is always nice for the ego!)
Nary a word.
I guess I’ll just have to try harder next time.
Monday, January 12, 2009
Impediments
Dee had a sore lip that made kissing painful. I have a bum knee that's acting up. Dee spent the weekend on a girl’s get-together, and I was home with the kiddo.
Worst of all, Dee tweaked her back last week, and has been in a good bit of pain ever since – the description she gave me was “it’s fine… as long as I don’t move.” I’ve been trying to get Dee to find a comfortable position on the sofa and stay there – giving her back a chance to rest and recuperate, but that hasn’t gone very well.
A friend of mine said I should strap her down and MAKE her stay in one place, but what he doesn’t know is that would just turn Dee on.
Obviously, sex wasn’t on my list of priorities over the weekend.
Having said that, I’m very thankful for what I have. We have friends (both men and women… some of whom are married to each other!) who complain constantly about their spouse’s failure to help out around the house. We have friends who would happily use a sprained pinkie, or invent a headache (in stereotypical fashion), as excuses to avoid having to “put up with” having sex with their partner.
Dee, on the other hand, got up off the couch last night (over my repeated protests), and refused to let me handle the dishwashing and laundry folding. She cleaned the stove, too (I can’t explain why). And at the end of the day – painful, strained back and all – she climbed on top of me, and fucked me as if she hadn’t seen me in days.
Dee often complains because I constantly view life as something that “could be better,” and it’s true that I view life just that way. I think that, just as things could ALWAYS be worse, they can ALWAYS be better, too. I think Dee takes this point of view as an indication that I’m not 100% happy… with my life, with the world… with her. That’s not the case, though.
Yes, things could be better. We could have more money. We could have more free time. We could even have better sex. That is exactly why Dee bought her Hitachi (in pursuit new, different… and BETTER experiences). And why we bought handcuffs. And why we checked out a swingers club.
The fact is, we all think things could be better. I acknowledge this – that’s all my point of view means. And… how could I NOT be happy? I’m married to a woman who likes sex, and wants me (sexually) to the point she won’t just fuck me, but will initiate the fun on a day she can barely walk up the stairs.
And I don’t even think sex ranks in the top five reasons we’re together.
Worst of all, Dee tweaked her back last week, and has been in a good bit of pain ever since – the description she gave me was “it’s fine… as long as I don’t move.” I’ve been trying to get Dee to find a comfortable position on the sofa and stay there – giving her back a chance to rest and recuperate, but that hasn’t gone very well.
A friend of mine said I should strap her down and MAKE her stay in one place, but what he doesn’t know is that would just turn Dee on.
Obviously, sex wasn’t on my list of priorities over the weekend.
Having said that, I’m very thankful for what I have. We have friends (both men and women… some of whom are married to each other!) who complain constantly about their spouse’s failure to help out around the house. We have friends who would happily use a sprained pinkie, or invent a headache (in stereotypical fashion), as excuses to avoid having to “put up with” having sex with their partner.
Dee, on the other hand, got up off the couch last night (over my repeated protests), and refused to let me handle the dishwashing and laundry folding. She cleaned the stove, too (I can’t explain why). And at the end of the day – painful, strained back and all – she climbed on top of me, and fucked me as if she hadn’t seen me in days.
Dee often complains because I constantly view life as something that “could be better,” and it’s true that I view life just that way. I think that, just as things could ALWAYS be worse, they can ALWAYS be better, too. I think Dee takes this point of view as an indication that I’m not 100% happy… with my life, with the world… with her. That’s not the case, though.
Yes, things could be better. We could have more money. We could have more free time. We could even have better sex. That is exactly why Dee bought her Hitachi (in pursuit new, different… and BETTER experiences). And why we bought handcuffs. And why we checked out a swingers club.
The fact is, we all think things could be better. I acknowledge this – that’s all my point of view means. And… how could I NOT be happy? I’m married to a woman who likes sex, and wants me (sexually) to the point she won’t just fuck me, but will initiate the fun on a day she can barely walk up the stairs.
And I don’t even think sex ranks in the top five reasons we’re together.
Thursday, January 8, 2009
Winter
I’ve been feeling rather uninspired lately… unmotivated, uncreative, and not particularly horny.
I think it’s a combination of the time of year, and the weather. It’s gray. It’s raining. It’s dark in the morning, and dark in the evening. Even the temperature is neutral… not hot, not cold. The holidays are over with, and there’s not much to look forward to (for me, at least) until spring arrives. The energy level is low and ennui has set in.
Maybe the winter blahs are some kind of evolutionary leftover, a residual instinct towards hibernation. I’m not unhappy, but I feel like the best play right now is to curl up at home and be restful for a few days.
I have had the occasional low-level urge now and then, but those impulses are very mild, and very short lived… a matter of seconds, a moment at most. These cursory desires seem to strike at inopportune times: I might be sitting at my desk at work, and for 30 seconds find myself thinking how I’d like to see Dee’s tits right at that moment, or how nice it would feel to slip into her pussy from behind, or pondering the possibility of a before-bed blowjob. But those thoughts rapidly fade to gray, and after a full day at my desk, after making my way home through the traffic and dark gray rain, with Dee bundled up in the passenger seat, eyes closed, after an evening of routine household activities… it’s hard to recapture even those mild desires later on, after the kid is tucked in bed.
It’s wintertime. Energy levels are low. And sometimes the best thing is just to cuddle up with Dee under the blankets, be warm, and harbor my energy for a long, fun evening I know will happen soon enough.
I think it’s a combination of the time of year, and the weather. It’s gray. It’s raining. It’s dark in the morning, and dark in the evening. Even the temperature is neutral… not hot, not cold. The holidays are over with, and there’s not much to look forward to (for me, at least) until spring arrives. The energy level is low and ennui has set in.
Maybe the winter blahs are some kind of evolutionary leftover, a residual instinct towards hibernation. I’m not unhappy, but I feel like the best play right now is to curl up at home and be restful for a few days.
I have had the occasional low-level urge now and then, but those impulses are very mild, and very short lived… a matter of seconds, a moment at most. These cursory desires seem to strike at inopportune times: I might be sitting at my desk at work, and for 30 seconds find myself thinking how I’d like to see Dee’s tits right at that moment, or how nice it would feel to slip into her pussy from behind, or pondering the possibility of a before-bed blowjob. But those thoughts rapidly fade to gray, and after a full day at my desk, after making my way home through the traffic and dark gray rain, with Dee bundled up in the passenger seat, eyes closed, after an evening of routine household activities… it’s hard to recapture even those mild desires later on, after the kid is tucked in bed.
It’s wintertime. Energy levels are low. And sometimes the best thing is just to cuddle up with Dee under the blankets, be warm, and harbor my energy for a long, fun evening I know will happen soon enough.
Wednesday, January 7, 2009
The Commandments
While browsing some new blogs in search of the interesting and new, I came across one post I found particularly interesting… a list of “commandments” the poster claimed to live her life by. Thinking this a great idea, I picked a couple of my favorites, and made a few modifications (making it gender neutral, shortening the paragraphs, that kind of thing) so I could share them here:
First, be satisfied with who you are. Love what you got. There will always be those who look better than you, and those who don’t. Be proud of your body, and flaunt your assets. Enjoy who you are in every sense (physically, emotionally, spiritually, etc.). If you're attracted to yourself, others will be more likely to find you attractive.
Second, live without fear or regret. Don’t let fear, or shyness, or inhibitions stop you from trying something that interests you, or experiencing something that you believe might turn you on. And whether you like it or not, no matter what the consequences, never regret having dared to chase your desires.
Third, love to fuck. Don’t be ashamed of your sexuality. Let the world know how much you love it. Do it whenever the opportunity arises, and act like it’s the last chance you’ll ever have to do it. Enjoy the best time of your life, every time. Take it for all its worth and don’t hold back. Do what makes you feel good, and stay completely in the moment. If you want more or less of something, tell your partner. If your partner asks for something, make it happen. Fuck the shit out of your partner, beg your partner to fuck the hell out of you, and then fuck each other again, making it more wild and reckless than ever before.
Of course, I don’t live by these commandments, and I doubt there are many who could do so on a 24-7 basis. We all wish we could lose a few pounds, or be a little less inhibited, or whatever. Nobody is perfect.
But the commandments are worth reading nonetheless.
First, be satisfied with who you are. Love what you got. There will always be those who look better than you, and those who don’t. Be proud of your body, and flaunt your assets. Enjoy who you are in every sense (physically, emotionally, spiritually, etc.). If you're attracted to yourself, others will be more likely to find you attractive.
Second, live without fear or regret. Don’t let fear, or shyness, or inhibitions stop you from trying something that interests you, or experiencing something that you believe might turn you on. And whether you like it or not, no matter what the consequences, never regret having dared to chase your desires.
Third, love to fuck. Don’t be ashamed of your sexuality. Let the world know how much you love it. Do it whenever the opportunity arises, and act like it’s the last chance you’ll ever have to do it. Enjoy the best time of your life, every time. Take it for all its worth and don’t hold back. Do what makes you feel good, and stay completely in the moment. If you want more or less of something, tell your partner. If your partner asks for something, make it happen. Fuck the shit out of your partner, beg your partner to fuck the hell out of you, and then fuck each other again, making it more wild and reckless than ever before.
Of course, I don’t live by these commandments, and I doubt there are many who could do so on a 24-7 basis. We all wish we could lose a few pounds, or be a little less inhibited, or whatever. Nobody is perfect.
But the commandments are worth reading nonetheless.
Monday, January 5, 2009
And So It Begins
It’s the first Monday of the new year, the traditional day on which resolutions are deemed to be enforceable – at least in my opinion (when Jan. 1 falls on a Wednesday, Thursday, or Friday, I just don’t think it’s fair to have to give up the last weekend of the holiday season!). This year, rather than making specific resolutions, or my usual mental list of things I'd like to accomplish, I thought that I will instead try to focus on a couple general themes, and just sort of deal with the details as I go.
And so, as far as the resolutions I’ve made that are relevant to this blog (most of which have been previously pondered here), they are:
1. To do a better job of living by our rules, as well reviving the dare game in some less organized fashion.
2. To make use of my laptop – get more into blogging, Facebook, etc., as well as writing some short stories (erotic tales), and other little things.
To that end, I have already started moving forward on both of these resolutions. I’ve begun reviewing our rules, and sifting through the dares I have not yet challenged Dee to perform. I’ve begun a second blog (My Sex-List Life), and will try to be more diligent about posting here, as well.
I don’t think that’s half bad for the first week of the year!
And so, as far as the resolutions I’ve made that are relevant to this blog (most of which have been previously pondered here), they are:
1. To do a better job of living by our rules, as well reviving the dare game in some less organized fashion.
2. To make use of my laptop – get more into blogging, Facebook, etc., as well as writing some short stories (erotic tales), and other little things.
To that end, I have already started moving forward on both of these resolutions. I’ve begun reviewing our rules, and sifting through the dares I have not yet challenged Dee to perform. I’ve begun a second blog (My Sex-List Life), and will try to be more diligent about posting here, as well.
I don’t think that’s half bad for the first week of the year!
Friday, January 2, 2009
The New Year Begins
Since the clock struck midnight, and 2009 began, I have discovered the following facts to be true:
1. Facebook is crazy. I was on it for the first time, created my profile, and in less than a day I was “Friends” (in the online sense) with half a dozen people I haven’t seen or spoken with since high school… 20 years ago. And some college friends I’d lost touch with. And I can see that number rapidly growing in an exponential fashion.
2. Dee has admitted to experiencing a strong jab of ‘jealousy’ at the thought I might reestablish contact with an old flame (we’re talking about the girl I chased across the playground, tackled, and kissed when I was in third grade here). I can’t help gloating a little – I’ve repeatedly said that jealousy was there, and Dee has insisted I just don’t know her very well (*grin!*).
3. A New Year’s party where people can bring their kids is great in some respects, but in others the party... lacks a certain celebratory atmosphere.
4. There is nothing that quite compares to seeing Dee’s eyes go wide, then roll backwards as she says “Oh… SHIT!” because I’ve hit just the right angle, at just the right moment, with just the right amount of pressure…
1. Facebook is crazy. I was on it for the first time, created my profile, and in less than a day I was “Friends” (in the online sense) with half a dozen people I haven’t seen or spoken with since high school… 20 years ago. And some college friends I’d lost touch with. And I can see that number rapidly growing in an exponential fashion.
2. Dee has admitted to experiencing a strong jab of ‘jealousy’ at the thought I might reestablish contact with an old flame (we’re talking about the girl I chased across the playground, tackled, and kissed when I was in third grade here). I can’t help gloating a little – I’ve repeatedly said that jealousy was there, and Dee has insisted I just don’t know her very well (*grin!*).
3. A New Year’s party where people can bring their kids is great in some respects, but in others the party... lacks a certain celebratory atmosphere.
4. There is nothing that quite compares to seeing Dee’s eyes go wide, then roll backwards as she says “Oh… SHIT!” because I’ve hit just the right angle, at just the right moment, with just the right amount of pressure…
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