From the archives:
1. Given the choice of anyone in the world, whom would you want as a dinner guest?
I'm assuming based on the phrasing that I'd have to pick someone who's alive. And baring certain people whom I would have over for dinner so I could poison them (I don't care if I got caught either; I'd do it for the good of the world, and no I wouldn't because I'd have moral issues, but I'm eliminating this option so who cares), and also assuming that this would be a totally one-time thing and I couldn't use it as a way to get them to marry or fuck me (and also eliminating anyone I'd only want to have dinner with if I could force them to tell me things they'd never tell me), I think I'd like to have dinner with Wallace Shawn and pick his brain about dramatic theory. I'd have dinner with Andre himself, but I think Wallace Shawn would be more interesting company. I'm totally serious. If I could, I'd have dinner with both of them. But I came within spitting distance of actually getting to meet Wallace Shawn at one point anyway (there's a story there but I can't tell it for fear of revealing too much about myself) and I'd like to have dinner with him and talk shop.
2. What would constitute a “perfect” day for you?
A gymnastics team sky-dives into my front lawn with a suitcase full of money and I can only keep it after I make them all cum. I don't know. What is "perfect?" A perfect day for me right now would be a day free of anxiety and stress and with my favorite people with me. A suitcase full of money would definitely help the former, and if I can invite friends to help me make those gymnasts cum, I could handle the latter.
3. How much do you like your personality?
(pick just one)
a. A lot.
b. A little.
c. It needs work.
d. I am annoying sometimes.
e. I am difficult, and people have told me so.
What options. The last two seem like they're more about what I think other people think about my personality, and you don't want to ask me that because I'm mentally ill so obviously I think everyone hates me. I'm not happy with myself. I'm mentally ill. I'm sure there are aspects of my personality which could use work, and others which are charming and wonderful, and I bet if you asked any two random people I know they wouldn't agree on which parts were which. I honestly don't spend a whole lot of time rating my own personality. I have bigger fish to fry. I'm unlikely to win any contests, I guess, but I think my personality is livable.
4. If you were able to live to the age of 90 and retain either the mind or body of a 30-year-old for the last 60 years of your life, which would you want?
Ooh, this is a better question in a weird-question kinda way. It seems like a bit of a bet, because I've known people who were completely lucid and fine past ninety, and others who got dementia when they were 45. And I hate how my aging body is breaking down already, so I can't imagine I'd be super-happy about being a 30 year old mind trapped in a useless corpse of a body (not that all 90 year old people are useless corpses, just that I'm not sure I wouldn't be). I value my mind. I do. So I might pick that.
But if you remain mentally a 30 year old, does that mean you don't gain the wisdom of aging? If we're just talking pure health, then my brain isn't in great shape anyway, and my 30 year old body (I'm not 30, I'm thinking back a few years, or maybe I'm really 23 and always will be because a lady can be whatever age she wants) wasn't all that great either, already creaking and decrepit. But pure health-wise, halting any deterioration at the 30 benchmark would make me think that I'd prefer to be a 30 year old mind in an aging body than the other way around.
Okay, never mind, the question got boring. Yes, I'd probably rather have my mental faculties intact than preserve my physical form. My parents don't do too badly for themselves as aging sex-pots, so I won't let a little gray hair stop me from fooling around. 90 year olds still fuck. You don't like thinking about it, but oh my God Florida is an orgy of flapping boobs and graying pubes. Seriously. The epidemic of sexually-transmitted diseases among retirees is worrying people.
5. If you could wake up tomorrow having gained any ability, what would it be?
Are we talking super-powers? Because I'd like to be able to levitate. Not fly, just levitate. But I'd also like telekinesis, or that X-Man's super-power of being able to split himself into multiple people. All of these things are probably boring but useful to me.
But if we're talking abilities I could conceivably learn and just haven't, while I'd love to be able to gain fluency in a foreign language, I think I'd really like to suddenly be a musical virtuoso. If I've got to pick an instrument, while guitar is tempting, I'm going with the piano. I don't even have to become a classical musician. I'd like to be able to play sheet music reasonably well, but I'd also like to be able to play boogie woogie piano, please.
Bonus: How do you think you will die?
Rationally, either cancer or heart trouble of some sort. Maybe diabetes. All of these things are genetically disposed in me. Also, car accident is likely enough. I'd say based on statistics that cancer is probably going to get me if something catastrophic doesn't get me first.
Irrationally, suicide. Or suicide by some other method. I'll stop caring and let something kill me even if I'm not killing myself. That's not pretty to hear, but in dark times, it seems more likely. Don't get worried; I'm not suicidal at all. But it could come to that, I suppose.
If I get to choose, I want to go out while being gangbanged to the best orgasm of my life. My pleasure gets too great and I achieve apotheosis and ascend directly to orgasm heaven, where choirs of angels with giant cocks fuck me for eternity. I don't know. Something painless and brief please.
Tuesday, November 21, 2017
Tuesday, November 14, 2017
TMI Tuesday
From the archives, from which I'm rapidly forgetting whether I've already done a particular post or not. My fault for not simply starting at the beginning and going forward rather than jumping around as the mood hits me.
1. Would you take a course in advanced sex positions? Why?
I mean, if it were a hands-on course, that sounds like fun. But even if it weren't, I'd try it if it were free. It never hurts to learn more sex moves. Can't rest on your laurels.
I do find most of the Kama Sutra to be impractical. And entirely too hetero-focused. But what works for me isn't what works for others, and what works with one partner might not be what works with another, so it's useful to keep brushing up, even if it's just to come up with a goof.
2. “Did you orgasm?”
Men: Do you ask your sex partners this? Women: Have you been asked this?
I have. Usually not in those words: "Did you cum?" is far more common.
Men, why do you ask this question? Women, do you mind being asked this question?
It entirely depends on why he or she is asking. Actually, let's face it, it's usually he. Women, for whatever reason, are less likely to ask me if I came.
I frequently announce my own orgasms in some way, not necessarily screaming, "I'm cumming!" but just as encouragement. "Oh god, yes, you're making me cum!" is a good way to ensure that whatever it is they're doing, they'll keep doing it. I'm not proud of it, but when I fake it I always announce.
So if I said, "God, yes, I'm cumming so hard," then asking me after if I came is probably not wise. But that's only happened once or twice.
If my partner is asking because I was being unusually unresponsive, then I don't mind in principle. If Sveta asks me, it's usually to make sure I did and just didn't tell her because she was trying hard to get me there. Of late, it gets asked sometimes because I've said that I have difficulty and yet it seemed like I might have cum, and my partner is more making sure I'm okay than anything else. Being asked, "Did you cum?" because I winced a lot is different.
From women, it's always inexperience. I've never had a woman ask me whether I came because she was being anything other than worried I hadn't enjoyed myself because she didn't know what she was doing. And that's fine.
From men, it's often insecurity or inexperience too, and again, I don't really mind that. But if a guy thinks he's God's gift to vaginas and is merely reinforcing that opinion by asking, I mind. Particularly if I didn't. If a guy hops on, rides me like I'm not even there, and then rolls over and looks at me like he's King Shit and asks me, "Did you cum?" I might be tempted to tell him, "No, how could I?" I once had a guy who didn't even ask: "You came, right?" And I told him where to get off.
But on the whole, asking me whether I had an orgasm is generally just an attempt to communicate a desire to please me, and I support that. I don't really want it to happen every damn time we fuck, but if the first time you ask me because you want to make sure you did okay, I'm probably okay with that. I might even reward it with, "Yes, but I'd like to again please."
3. “Was it good for you?”
Have you ever asked this question after having sex? Were you ever told “No, it was not good.” If yes, what did you do?
What a movie cliche. I don't think I've ever asked that in those words. I've asked, "Was I okay?" a number of times. Not in quite a while, but it used to be that I was still somewhat unsure of myself and wanted to make sure my partner was happy with me. It's a selfish thing to ask, in a way, but again, I think it can show a concern that one wants to please one's partner.
I think I may have asked my father that my first time. I definitely asked a few boys that when I was just starting to venture out from the nest. I've asked a few times with people on our first time because it seemed like they might not have enjoyed themselves.
However, I don't think I've ever had anyone admit that it wasn't good, if I asked them that question. I'm sure it hasn't been, and I knew it before I asked, and I didn't believe them because they were evasive, but I can't recall ever having anyone be blunt. It might be my selection of partners, or it might be that women have an easier time of it than men in this department, or it might be that I'm a fucking sex goddess (that's totally not the reason but it sure is fun to say).
I have been told that the sex wasn't good, just not after I asked whether it was. It's hard to take sometimes. If you have no connection with the person, say it's a one-time thing or strangers or whatever, it's rough because it's basically a rejection, and there's likely nothing you can do about it. I've had several guys tell me that the sex wasn't that good because I wasn't into something in particular, which is frustrating when they didn't tell me up front that that's what they wanted, but hey, I'm a mind-reader, right? But when someone with whom you've got some kind of relationship in the longer term tells you that, it's like criticism, and it does sting.
The thing is, if you hear that, the way to react is not defensively or to shut the conversation down. If you have the opportunity, you should figure out why it didn't work. If you were trying something new, then hey, that new thing won't make the rotation. If you just weren't on the same wavelength, now's the chance to rectify that. If your partner is looking for something and not getting it, it's not fair of them to tell you that without telling you what that thing is. So it's a two-way street, just like all criticism. "Was it good for you?" is a terrible question to ask anyway. "Good" doesn't tell you anything.
In fact, even if it was good for you, if you want to keep fucking, take the time to talk about it. What was good? What else would be good?
And sometimes, you're going to figure out that it's never going to be good. He wants giant boobs and you've got an A cup. He wants you to suck his cock after it's been in your ass and you draw the line there. She wants to be smacked around while you fuck her and you don't feel comfortable with that. And in the end, maybe you should learn that before you both get too far into the hole of, "Well, we're okay, I guess, and so we should keep having mediocre sex." Maybe you break up. Communication isn't always pretty. But you'll be happier, as will they, if you can honestly say, "I don't think we're working. Maybe we should just be friends." I have done this. It's easier for me, sure, but I still think it should be done. No use polluting a perfectly good relationship with meaningless, terrible sex.
4. When was the last time you had a simple, sexy “make out” session? Do you wish you had more purely “make out” sessions?
It's been too long. Sveta and I used to make out more. I know she misses it. It's my fault, and I'm attempting to rectify it, but right now it seems like if we've got time and energy we shouldn't waste that on making out. So not recently, and yes/no; yes because it would make Sveta happy and no because I've never been one to make out when I could fuck. That's not admirable, it's just the way I am. And it's not about me getting my rocks off (so to speak). I'll happily make Sveta cum repeatedly with no action on my end. But it's probably a product of my overly-sexualized youth that I'm perfectly happy to fuck. That's not to say that there's no foreplay, not at all, and making out certainly happens, just usually not as the end of the activity.
5. When is that last time you had a “quickie”– sex lasting 5 minutes or less? How often do you engage in “quickies”?
Sex for 5 minutes with another lady is usually not interesting to me. If I have quickies using that definition, it's going to be with a guy. I can't recall the last one I had which would really qualify as a quickie, since I think any time a sex act has lasted 5 minutes it's usually just been a prelude to something more intense.
I used to have quickies fairly regularly. Mike would surprise me all the time right before doing things. And I had plenty of quickies with boys in school, because that was the way you had to do it if you were behind a building or in a parked car. I'm not sure I'd give them all the 5 minute deadline; a quickie for me is anything rushed and probably with clothing not removed, done fast because someone might catch you or because you've got to leave the house in a few minutes.
I don't know that I care for them, in the main. A random quickie with a stranger can be thrill, I guess, but these days 5 minutes isn't enough to get the motor running. There's an illicit thrill to sex in cars or behind buildings or trees with the fear of discovery, but the quickness of it has less to do with it than the illicit nature. I'd happily fuck in a parked car for longer than 5 minutes. I don't know. Basically, when Mike would surprise me, that was fun, but all the others, I could probably have done with longer if possible (and sometimes got it). A quickie for the sake of quickness appeals to me less now than it used to.
Bonus: Think about the person that is/was your favorite sex partner? Why were they your favorite?
I'm going to say that Sveta is my favorite girl partner, and Mike is probably my favorite guy. Sveta is really great in bed, and she's wonderfully fun to play with, plus she's sexy as hell and I could masturbate to just watching her naked. Mike, I've just done so many fun things with. He's terrific in the sack and we've always been very compatible from the very first time, but since we both basically grew up fucking, it's hard not to pick him as my favorite. I mean, I love Dad, and I've loved many other partners I've fucked, but Mike and I have just had the most fun, I think.
1. Would you take a course in advanced sex positions? Why?
I mean, if it were a hands-on course, that sounds like fun. But even if it weren't, I'd try it if it were free. It never hurts to learn more sex moves. Can't rest on your laurels.
I do find most of the Kama Sutra to be impractical. And entirely too hetero-focused. But what works for me isn't what works for others, and what works with one partner might not be what works with another, so it's useful to keep brushing up, even if it's just to come up with a goof.
2. “Did you orgasm?”
Men: Do you ask your sex partners this? Women: Have you been asked this?
I have. Usually not in those words: "Did you cum?" is far more common.
Men, why do you ask this question? Women, do you mind being asked this question?
It entirely depends on why he or she is asking. Actually, let's face it, it's usually he. Women, for whatever reason, are less likely to ask me if I came.
I frequently announce my own orgasms in some way, not necessarily screaming, "I'm cumming!" but just as encouragement. "Oh god, yes, you're making me cum!" is a good way to ensure that whatever it is they're doing, they'll keep doing it. I'm not proud of it, but when I fake it I always announce.
So if I said, "God, yes, I'm cumming so hard," then asking me after if I came is probably not wise. But that's only happened once or twice.
If my partner is asking because I was being unusually unresponsive, then I don't mind in principle. If Sveta asks me, it's usually to make sure I did and just didn't tell her because she was trying hard to get me there. Of late, it gets asked sometimes because I've said that I have difficulty and yet it seemed like I might have cum, and my partner is more making sure I'm okay than anything else. Being asked, "Did you cum?" because I winced a lot is different.
From women, it's always inexperience. I've never had a woman ask me whether I came because she was being anything other than worried I hadn't enjoyed myself because she didn't know what she was doing. And that's fine.
From men, it's often insecurity or inexperience too, and again, I don't really mind that. But if a guy thinks he's God's gift to vaginas and is merely reinforcing that opinion by asking, I mind. Particularly if I didn't. If a guy hops on, rides me like I'm not even there, and then rolls over and looks at me like he's King Shit and asks me, "Did you cum?" I might be tempted to tell him, "No, how could I?" I once had a guy who didn't even ask: "You came, right?" And I told him where to get off.
But on the whole, asking me whether I had an orgasm is generally just an attempt to communicate a desire to please me, and I support that. I don't really want it to happen every damn time we fuck, but if the first time you ask me because you want to make sure you did okay, I'm probably okay with that. I might even reward it with, "Yes, but I'd like to again please."
3. “Was it good for you?”
Have you ever asked this question after having sex? Were you ever told “No, it was not good.” If yes, what did you do?
What a movie cliche. I don't think I've ever asked that in those words. I've asked, "Was I okay?" a number of times. Not in quite a while, but it used to be that I was still somewhat unsure of myself and wanted to make sure my partner was happy with me. It's a selfish thing to ask, in a way, but again, I think it can show a concern that one wants to please one's partner.
I think I may have asked my father that my first time. I definitely asked a few boys that when I was just starting to venture out from the nest. I've asked a few times with people on our first time because it seemed like they might not have enjoyed themselves.
However, I don't think I've ever had anyone admit that it wasn't good, if I asked them that question. I'm sure it hasn't been, and I knew it before I asked, and I didn't believe them because they were evasive, but I can't recall ever having anyone be blunt. It might be my selection of partners, or it might be that women have an easier time of it than men in this department, or it might be that I'm a fucking sex goddess (that's totally not the reason but it sure is fun to say).
I have been told that the sex wasn't good, just not after I asked whether it was. It's hard to take sometimes. If you have no connection with the person, say it's a one-time thing or strangers or whatever, it's rough because it's basically a rejection, and there's likely nothing you can do about it. I've had several guys tell me that the sex wasn't that good because I wasn't into something in particular, which is frustrating when they didn't tell me up front that that's what they wanted, but hey, I'm a mind-reader, right? But when someone with whom you've got some kind of relationship in the longer term tells you that, it's like criticism, and it does sting.
The thing is, if you hear that, the way to react is not defensively or to shut the conversation down. If you have the opportunity, you should figure out why it didn't work. If you were trying something new, then hey, that new thing won't make the rotation. If you just weren't on the same wavelength, now's the chance to rectify that. If your partner is looking for something and not getting it, it's not fair of them to tell you that without telling you what that thing is. So it's a two-way street, just like all criticism. "Was it good for you?" is a terrible question to ask anyway. "Good" doesn't tell you anything.
In fact, even if it was good for you, if you want to keep fucking, take the time to talk about it. What was good? What else would be good?
And sometimes, you're going to figure out that it's never going to be good. He wants giant boobs and you've got an A cup. He wants you to suck his cock after it's been in your ass and you draw the line there. She wants to be smacked around while you fuck her and you don't feel comfortable with that. And in the end, maybe you should learn that before you both get too far into the hole of, "Well, we're okay, I guess, and so we should keep having mediocre sex." Maybe you break up. Communication isn't always pretty. But you'll be happier, as will they, if you can honestly say, "I don't think we're working. Maybe we should just be friends." I have done this. It's easier for me, sure, but I still think it should be done. No use polluting a perfectly good relationship with meaningless, terrible sex.
4. When was the last time you had a simple, sexy “make out” session? Do you wish you had more purely “make out” sessions?
It's been too long. Sveta and I used to make out more. I know she misses it. It's my fault, and I'm attempting to rectify it, but right now it seems like if we've got time and energy we shouldn't waste that on making out. So not recently, and yes/no; yes because it would make Sveta happy and no because I've never been one to make out when I could fuck. That's not admirable, it's just the way I am. And it's not about me getting my rocks off (so to speak). I'll happily make Sveta cum repeatedly with no action on my end. But it's probably a product of my overly-sexualized youth that I'm perfectly happy to fuck. That's not to say that there's no foreplay, not at all, and making out certainly happens, just usually not as the end of the activity.
5. When is that last time you had a “quickie”– sex lasting 5 minutes or less? How often do you engage in “quickies”?
Sex for 5 minutes with another lady is usually not interesting to me. If I have quickies using that definition, it's going to be with a guy. I can't recall the last one I had which would really qualify as a quickie, since I think any time a sex act has lasted 5 minutes it's usually just been a prelude to something more intense.
I used to have quickies fairly regularly. Mike would surprise me all the time right before doing things. And I had plenty of quickies with boys in school, because that was the way you had to do it if you were behind a building or in a parked car. I'm not sure I'd give them all the 5 minute deadline; a quickie for me is anything rushed and probably with clothing not removed, done fast because someone might catch you or because you've got to leave the house in a few minutes.
I don't know that I care for them, in the main. A random quickie with a stranger can be thrill, I guess, but these days 5 minutes isn't enough to get the motor running. There's an illicit thrill to sex in cars or behind buildings or trees with the fear of discovery, but the quickness of it has less to do with it than the illicit nature. I'd happily fuck in a parked car for longer than 5 minutes. I don't know. Basically, when Mike would surprise me, that was fun, but all the others, I could probably have done with longer if possible (and sometimes got it). A quickie for the sake of quickness appeals to me less now than it used to.
Bonus: Think about the person that is/was your favorite sex partner? Why were they your favorite?
I'm going to say that Sveta is my favorite girl partner, and Mike is probably my favorite guy. Sveta is really great in bed, and she's wonderfully fun to play with, plus she's sexy as hell and I could masturbate to just watching her naked. Mike, I've just done so many fun things with. He's terrific in the sack and we've always been very compatible from the very first time, but since we both basically grew up fucking, it's hard not to pick him as my favorite. I mean, I love Dad, and I've loved many other partners I've fucked, but Mike and I have just had the most fun, I think.
Tuesday, November 7, 2017
TMI Tuesday
This is your regularly-scheduled appeal to ask me some fucking questions so I don't have to keep using the canned questions. Not that they're bad, just that they're so general. I'm very nice. My few die-hard fans know this. Please don't ask me, "wut wuz teh CRAZIEST thing uv evr dun?" I can't answer that one because I don't know what the definition of crazy is, and it's probably something I've already talked about. But seriously, I'm pretty much an open book, I do respond to emails and comments and even Twitter DMs (irregularly) and if there's another platform for AMA-type things, tell me about it and I'll check it out.
Also, if you don't have any questions and are just lurking, that's fine too. Thanks for reading. I hope my archives at least are interesting.
From the archives:
1. Can a penis be too big?
For me, yes, probably. I've never met one which was so too big that I couldn't try it, but I've met a few which were too big for what we were doing, or which were uncomfortably large and I regretted in the morning. Except I didn't really regret it, I just felt it for the next day. I've never seriously injured myself on a cock, but I've been sore. I've also never met a cock which I couldn't take all of vaginally, but I've met a few which I wouldn't have tried in my ass.
Size isn't everything, guys. I'm not saying it's nothing, but it's not everything. And while I enjoy a decent length, I think long is probably less fun than wide. But too long, as long as it's handled well, can be managed, while too wide can be difficult no matter how gentle.
2. Can a vagina be too tight?
For me, no, because I don't have to put anything in a pussy to make it purr. But, with regard to both this and the previous question, vaginal tightness is largely a function of arousal, not pride. If your lady is tight, maybe she's not enjoying herself as much as you'd like to think. That's not to say that all pussies are the same, and I've met plenty which were smaller, but even a small pussy should be able to be comfortable with penetration by things other than baseball bats. There's a mythic quality of the "tight pussy" which is toxic. Penetration shouldn't hurt.
3. Does playing with fake tits give you the same satisfaction and response as fondling real breasts?
I've only run into a few fake tits in my time, probably at least partially because I like smaller tits. And it's possible that I've run into ones I didn't realize were fake. I understand that technology has come a long way since the days of the plastic fantastic. So I can't really comment there; if they were fake but felt real, then hey, playing with them was great. As far as the ones I knew were fake, I would have known even if I hadn't been told (and I think I've been told every time, though I may be wrong). I don't particularly care for them because, let's face it, they felt fake. And I'm not a "breast man" so bigger tits aren't a turn-on for me in a way which would make me enjoy giant fake ones. I've never run into a set which were comically awful or anything, but they do feel a bit different. I don't hate them, mostly because again, I'm not as into tits.
4. Fill in the blank: I prefer ____ over having sex.
Financial stability? I don't know. I'm not a one-note symphony or anything: there are plenty of things I like, not just sex. I know from this blog you might get the impression that I'm only about sex, but that's just because that's all I write about here because that's what this blog is. It's not an exploration of my views on contemporary culture or mathematics or history. It's a salacious blog. Don't read the letters to Penthouse for theology, and don't read this blog for my dramatic theory.
5. If a stranger offered you 30 USD to lick your boots or shoes, while you are wearing them, would you accept? If no, how much money would it take for you to accept the offer?
To lick my boots? I'd probably let someone lick my boots for $5. I don't find it sexual, and props to them for having the stones to ask a stranger to do that. I'd like to say that I'd hold out for more money, and maybe I'd try to haggle the price up a bit, but I'd take the $30 and have an interesting story to tell.
For me to lick someone else's boots would cost a whole lot more. Ditto licking my bare feet. Not because either of them is a sexual line I'm unwilling to cross, just because of the gross factor. I'm not into feet. I don't hate them, but they're not my kink. And other people's shoes are dirty. And other people's tongues are a little dirty too. I think me licking a stranger's boots would cost more than a stranger licking my feet, but they'd be in the same price range, and that would be fairly high. Probably up in the "I'll do pretty much anything for $X" range.
Also, if you don't have any questions and are just lurking, that's fine too. Thanks for reading. I hope my archives at least are interesting.
From the archives:
1. Can a penis be too big?
For me, yes, probably. I've never met one which was so too big that I couldn't try it, but I've met a few which were too big for what we were doing, or which were uncomfortably large and I regretted in the morning. Except I didn't really regret it, I just felt it for the next day. I've never seriously injured myself on a cock, but I've been sore. I've also never met a cock which I couldn't take all of vaginally, but I've met a few which I wouldn't have tried in my ass.
Size isn't everything, guys. I'm not saying it's nothing, but it's not everything. And while I enjoy a decent length, I think long is probably less fun than wide. But too long, as long as it's handled well, can be managed, while too wide can be difficult no matter how gentle.
2. Can a vagina be too tight?
For me, no, because I don't have to put anything in a pussy to make it purr. But, with regard to both this and the previous question, vaginal tightness is largely a function of arousal, not pride. If your lady is tight, maybe she's not enjoying herself as much as you'd like to think. That's not to say that all pussies are the same, and I've met plenty which were smaller, but even a small pussy should be able to be comfortable with penetration by things other than baseball bats. There's a mythic quality of the "tight pussy" which is toxic. Penetration shouldn't hurt.
3. Does playing with fake tits give you the same satisfaction and response as fondling real breasts?
I've only run into a few fake tits in my time, probably at least partially because I like smaller tits. And it's possible that I've run into ones I didn't realize were fake. I understand that technology has come a long way since the days of the plastic fantastic. So I can't really comment there; if they were fake but felt real, then hey, playing with them was great. As far as the ones I knew were fake, I would have known even if I hadn't been told (and I think I've been told every time, though I may be wrong). I don't particularly care for them because, let's face it, they felt fake. And I'm not a "breast man" so bigger tits aren't a turn-on for me in a way which would make me enjoy giant fake ones. I've never run into a set which were comically awful or anything, but they do feel a bit different. I don't hate them, mostly because again, I'm not as into tits.
4. Fill in the blank: I prefer ____ over having sex.
Financial stability? I don't know. I'm not a one-note symphony or anything: there are plenty of things I like, not just sex. I know from this blog you might get the impression that I'm only about sex, but that's just because that's all I write about here because that's what this blog is. It's not an exploration of my views on contemporary culture or mathematics or history. It's a salacious blog. Don't read the letters to Penthouse for theology, and don't read this blog for my dramatic theory.
5. If a stranger offered you 30 USD to lick your boots or shoes, while you are wearing them, would you accept? If no, how much money would it take for you to accept the offer?
To lick my boots? I'd probably let someone lick my boots for $5. I don't find it sexual, and props to them for having the stones to ask a stranger to do that. I'd like to say that I'd hold out for more money, and maybe I'd try to haggle the price up a bit, but I'd take the $30 and have an interesting story to tell.
For me to lick someone else's boots would cost a whole lot more. Ditto licking my bare feet. Not because either of them is a sexual line I'm unwilling to cross, just because of the gross factor. I'm not into feet. I don't hate them, but they're not my kink. And other people's shoes are dirty. And other people's tongues are a little dirty too. I think me licking a stranger's boots would cost more than a stranger licking my feet, but they'd be in the same price range, and that would be fairly high. Probably up in the "I'll do pretty much anything for $X" range.
Tuesday, October 31, 2017
TMI Tuesday
This will be published on Halloween and I'm writing it super in advance (which is what I do, inside baseball/backstage documentary) so it's not Halloween-related and who knows, maybe something will have happened on Halloween worth talking about. It's also not a terribly good one. But whatever, it's Tuesday so you know what that means.
From the archives:
1. Is a weird “sex face/orgasm face” a total deal-breaker?
Not a deal-breaker, but it might take me out of the moment. I might laugh. I won't lie, I've giggled at O-faces before and had to cover. I don't have any particularly good stories about it. Honestly, sex face sometimes looks silly. O-face sometimes looks really silly. If I don't think my partner is doing it intentionally, it's not their fault and I'll deal.
I have had one or two guys who put on these sex faces which just looked stupid, and I could tell they were doing it to look more macho or porn-worthy or whatever, and that told me something about them. In one case, it was because the guy was a virgin but didn't admit it until after, and I told him he didn't need to lie and I didn't care and he did great (had he not been a virgin I wouldn't have rated him highly, but he did better than many virgins do, and after his admission we had a much more pleasant evening). The others, well, I wasn't going to stop them because I still wanted to get fucked, but I didn't request a follow-up visit. Guys, don't be a bro. If you want to be macho in bed and really impress a gal with your sexual prowess, she's not interested in you putting on a funny face and acting like you're lifting. Eat her out well and she won't care what your face looks like because she won't be able to see straight. PSA over.
2. Do you enjoy having your balls played with (or playing with balls)?
I don't really. I mean, I'll suck or fondle balls if that's what gets you off, but I'm not attracted to them. They're not involved in sex except as an accessory for me. I don't require my dildos to have balls. And guys, please bathe, because sweaty balls are not pleasant flopping around in my face.
3. Have you ever hooked-up with somebody based on their proximity to your smartphone location (Tinder, GRINDR, etc)?
Nope. Nothing really to say here. I'm not on any of those platforms and I doubt I ever will be. Nothing against people who are, but it's not really my thing.
4. You have some free-time in the workday–blow job or intercourse? (BJ can be giving or receiving).
Entirely dependent on where I'm working, how much time I have, and who will be my partner. And let's not assume that work nookie must always be MF. I get much more lesbian work nookie anyway. But if I've got time, I want to fuck, assuming I'd want to fuck this person. These days, if I don't really want to fuck this person, I'm not likely to offer a consolation prize, but there was a time when I might. But time is definitely a factor, and I'm much less likely to go for a very rushed job with no time to clean up unless I really want sex bad and I really want this person bad. I'm getting lazy in my old age. I like to have a few minutes to straighten up and put my panties back on.
5. How long after having sex with a new partner do you have to wait before falling asleep?
I almost never fall asleep after sex. If I'm exhausted, it would depend on the partner, I guess, but I'm still not likely to immediately roll over and pass out. I don't hold it against people who do fall asleep after sex as long as they don't immediately roll off me and start snoring. A gal likes a little pillow talk, even if it's a few appreciative phrases and then sleepy cuddles.
Bonus: What’s the dirtiest or sexiest text message you’ve ever received?
I don't think I've ever received a sext. Not really into sexting. Probably something innocuous. Nothing to report.
From the archives:
1. Is a weird “sex face/orgasm face” a total deal-breaker?
Not a deal-breaker, but it might take me out of the moment. I might laugh. I won't lie, I've giggled at O-faces before and had to cover. I don't have any particularly good stories about it. Honestly, sex face sometimes looks silly. O-face sometimes looks really silly. If I don't think my partner is doing it intentionally, it's not their fault and I'll deal.
I have had one or two guys who put on these sex faces which just looked stupid, and I could tell they were doing it to look more macho or porn-worthy or whatever, and that told me something about them. In one case, it was because the guy was a virgin but didn't admit it until after, and I told him he didn't need to lie and I didn't care and he did great (had he not been a virgin I wouldn't have rated him highly, but he did better than many virgins do, and after his admission we had a much more pleasant evening). The others, well, I wasn't going to stop them because I still wanted to get fucked, but I didn't request a follow-up visit. Guys, don't be a bro. If you want to be macho in bed and really impress a gal with your sexual prowess, she's not interested in you putting on a funny face and acting like you're lifting. Eat her out well and she won't care what your face looks like because she won't be able to see straight. PSA over.
2. Do you enjoy having your balls played with (or playing with balls)?
I don't really. I mean, I'll suck or fondle balls if that's what gets you off, but I'm not attracted to them. They're not involved in sex except as an accessory for me. I don't require my dildos to have balls. And guys, please bathe, because sweaty balls are not pleasant flopping around in my face.
3. Have you ever hooked-up with somebody based on their proximity to your smartphone location (Tinder, GRINDR, etc)?
Nope. Nothing really to say here. I'm not on any of those platforms and I doubt I ever will be. Nothing against people who are, but it's not really my thing.
4. You have some free-time in the workday–blow job or intercourse? (BJ can be giving or receiving).
Entirely dependent on where I'm working, how much time I have, and who will be my partner. And let's not assume that work nookie must always be MF. I get much more lesbian work nookie anyway. But if I've got time, I want to fuck, assuming I'd want to fuck this person. These days, if I don't really want to fuck this person, I'm not likely to offer a consolation prize, but there was a time when I might. But time is definitely a factor, and I'm much less likely to go for a very rushed job with no time to clean up unless I really want sex bad and I really want this person bad. I'm getting lazy in my old age. I like to have a few minutes to straighten up and put my panties back on.
5. How long after having sex with a new partner do you have to wait before falling asleep?
I almost never fall asleep after sex. If I'm exhausted, it would depend on the partner, I guess, but I'm still not likely to immediately roll over and pass out. I don't hold it against people who do fall asleep after sex as long as they don't immediately roll off me and start snoring. A gal likes a little pillow talk, even if it's a few appreciative phrases and then sleepy cuddles.
Bonus: What’s the dirtiest or sexiest text message you’ve ever received?
I don't think I've ever received a sext. Not really into sexting. Probably something innocuous. Nothing to report.
Tuesday, October 24, 2017
TMI Tuesday, a Sveta-Heavy Episode
From the archives:
1. For you, can sex be separated from love?
I've talked about this plenty of times, but yes, absolutely. I think the world would be a better place if everyone felt this way, not just because there'd be more sex in the world. I think sex is on a pedestal that it doesn't deserve, and at the same time not on a pedestal that it does. It's great. It's a great way to spend time. It's good for you. And it absolutely can be a component of love and that love doesn't have to be romantic love. But it shouldn't have to be.
Do I think you should have sex with people you don't like? Probably not. But if you do, and you just want to fuck because they're hot or good in bed or you're horny, who gives a fuck? People do things with people they don't really like all the time. You don't have to love someone to have fun with them.
That all said, making sex and love separate frees people who aren't sexual (for whatever reason) from having to feel like they're missing out on love. I think people should be able to deeply, deeply love each other without sex ever entering into the equation, and that love can be romantic and wonderful and every bit as worthwhile as love where sex is involved. There are couples who don't have kids and couples who do. There are couples who don't cook and couples who do. Why should we judge people who don't have sex and say that they don't love each other as much?
2. Can sex be separated from caring?
This is a more interesting question, but I think my answer is still yes, it can. I'm not saying it should. It would be nice if you only had sex with people you at least cared about. But again, while I think sex is better between people who care for each other, really the only caring that's a prerequisite for sex is caring about consent and caring enough to want your partner to enjoy themselves. And while the former is a line in the sand, the latter isn't, because most people have fucked where it was just about them getting off. If the other person (or people) in the room had fun, fine, but that wasn't what it was about. And that's selfish and not good, but it doesn't necessarily stray into territory where it's any more wrong than being selfish in any other way. I've had incredibly hot sex where I didn't give a damn about my partner.
Sex is just something we do. It's no different than anything else. I wish the world was ready for that attitude because I've preached this sermon before.
3. Men: Does sex seem to be something that you can never get enough of and are constantly seeking or thinking about?
I'm not a man, but I'll answer this anyway. I used to very rarely be completely sated. It would happen, but it was like eating so much I was sick. Sure, I was sated, but I didn't feel good about it. Or I felt good, but I was going to regret it in the morning. And being overstimulated wasn't what I needed; I could be perfectly happy getting great sex but still having the hunger. Nothing wrong with wanting more.
These days, I'm rarely sated but usually not interested in pursuing further satiation. It's mostly my medical factors. I used to cum hard and frequently, and these days I'm lucky to get one a day (and that's often masturbation, not because I'm not having sex but because the sex isn't making me cum).
If my brain is idle, I think about sex all the fucking time. Or sexual things. Not necessarily thinking about dick in vag, just naked women or hard cocks or dripping pussies or anal or... yeah, see, I think about it all the damn time. Something will come on TV which is slightly arousing and I'm off to the races. But if I'm thinking about other things, sex doesn't come up. It doesn't distract me unless I'm incredibly hard up. I've always been able to compartmentalize with more or less success.
4. Women: Is sex secondary to intimacy, physical closeness, and commitment?
I don't know if "secondary" is the right word. It's different, as I said above. I don't want intimacy or commitment from everyone, and I don't even want sex from everyone. I'd say that in a relationship, the intimacy makes the sex better and is probably something I value more, but that's not always true.
Commitment is an odd one. I know women have a reputation for pushing guys into commitment and guys are always afraid of commitment, but that's a rom-com trope and it's not true. And you'd think that since I fuck around, I would have a low value for commitment, but that's also not true. I value commitment, just not in the traditional sense. Fidelity doesn't have to mean monogamy. If my partner was doing things behind my back which he/she had promised not to do, I would view that as a violation, regardless of whether those things were sexual or things which, had we talked about them, I would have been totally fine with.
I'm not even monogamous with love. I think you can love more than one person. So it's not even a question of, "Well, we have an open relationship but we only love each other." It's complicated and requires communication and I'm no expert at it and have fucked up in the past and will likely do so again. But I do value commitment, whatever it means.
5. Who is more discriminating in choosing sexual partners–you or your significant other?
Definitely Sveta. It's not even that she's picky about body type or personality. She just has more discrimination. She's less willing to throw herself under a bus. She's also more careful and shier about propositioning people. She picks up guys sometimes, but she's never picked up a girl without me along.
Bonus: Who is more likely to take on additional sexual partners, you or your significant other?
Definitely me, for the reasons stated above, but also because I'm less monogamous than Sveta is. I think Sveta would be perfectly happy to have a relationship with me where we were monogamous but with party exceptions. That's not to say that she doesn't get her own on the side: she has several steady-ish partners and she gets her quota. But I think that if we had a relationship where we would occasionally invite other people to share our bed and otherwise were monogamous, she'd be okay. I would probably feel confined, so it's lucky that she doesn't want that.
And no, she doesn't; we've talked about it and she's perfectly happy to get her own on the side as well, and happy to have me have my own side bits. She's not angling for anything different. But I think she could be content with occasional three/foursomes, rather than the more open relationship we have now. Hell, if we could find a guy and live in a poly threesome where she'd be able to get cock and pussy, I think she'd be okay with that.
And if that's coming off as judgmental, I assure you it isn't. I don't judge people who want monogamy of the most traditional kind (well, not for wanting monogamy; I'll judge them if they start judging me for my choices). Or no sex at all. We're all different people and we want different things. Sveta is less adventurous than I am in terms of partners, but she's very adventurous in the sack and I love that about her. Her sexuality was previously very repressed, but that she's come out of her shell doesn't mean she's become just like me. Our upbringings were very different (obviously) and our personalities are quite different in some ways, and while we're very compatible, we don't have to be the same.
Sveta is less bisexual than I am; she is attracted to women but has no interest in pursuing them. She likes naked ladies but doesn't need to be one-on-one, I guess. And I know this about her, so I know that she needs to get regular infusions of vitamin D that I can't provide. But at the same time she isn't a one-night-stand type, so if she needs a beef injection, she wants to get it from a provider she knows and has a prior understanding with. And that's totally fine. If anything, it's safer and more sensible than my modus operandi.
We're not in love and happy together because we're perfect sexual partners for each other. We're great sexual partners for each other, but we both know that we're not capable of being all things to all people, or even to one person, so we sort it out our own ways. I like variety. Sveta likes cock. I mean, I like cock too, but I don't mind if it's not the same cock every time. It's like ordering at a restaurant: Sveta goes for what she knows she'll like, even if she's ordered it every time before, whereas I'm more likely to order everything on the menu at least once.
Which isn't to say that Sveta doesn't like to order different things in the bedroom. She likes trying new things. So maybe it's more like picking a restaurant to eat at: Sveta will go for someplace she's enjoyed before, even if maybe she might miss out on a place which might have the greatest food ever. Meanwhile, I want to try a new restaurant all the time.
And on the subject of Sveta trying new things, she might be more adventurous as far as sex acts than I am. I don't mean in terms of limits, but she's had a much shorter career than I have and she's already done pretty much everything I've done, with more willingness to do it than one might expect, given her background. I remember when I first met her, wondering if she'd ever even be into lesbian sex. Now, she's down with all kinds of things, and doesn't hesitate to try something new which seems like it might be fun. She has boundaries just like I do, but she's willing to range right up to the fence on them, and she's blossomed into a sexual being which was not at all what I expected at the beginning. It sounds a bit odd, but I'm super proud of her.
1. For you, can sex be separated from love?
I've talked about this plenty of times, but yes, absolutely. I think the world would be a better place if everyone felt this way, not just because there'd be more sex in the world. I think sex is on a pedestal that it doesn't deserve, and at the same time not on a pedestal that it does. It's great. It's a great way to spend time. It's good for you. And it absolutely can be a component of love and that love doesn't have to be romantic love. But it shouldn't have to be.
Do I think you should have sex with people you don't like? Probably not. But if you do, and you just want to fuck because they're hot or good in bed or you're horny, who gives a fuck? People do things with people they don't really like all the time. You don't have to love someone to have fun with them.
That all said, making sex and love separate frees people who aren't sexual (for whatever reason) from having to feel like they're missing out on love. I think people should be able to deeply, deeply love each other without sex ever entering into the equation, and that love can be romantic and wonderful and every bit as worthwhile as love where sex is involved. There are couples who don't have kids and couples who do. There are couples who don't cook and couples who do. Why should we judge people who don't have sex and say that they don't love each other as much?
2. Can sex be separated from caring?
This is a more interesting question, but I think my answer is still yes, it can. I'm not saying it should. It would be nice if you only had sex with people you at least cared about. But again, while I think sex is better between people who care for each other, really the only caring that's a prerequisite for sex is caring about consent and caring enough to want your partner to enjoy themselves. And while the former is a line in the sand, the latter isn't, because most people have fucked where it was just about them getting off. If the other person (or people) in the room had fun, fine, but that wasn't what it was about. And that's selfish and not good, but it doesn't necessarily stray into territory where it's any more wrong than being selfish in any other way. I've had incredibly hot sex where I didn't give a damn about my partner.
Sex is just something we do. It's no different than anything else. I wish the world was ready for that attitude because I've preached this sermon before.
3. Men: Does sex seem to be something that you can never get enough of and are constantly seeking or thinking about?
I'm not a man, but I'll answer this anyway. I used to very rarely be completely sated. It would happen, but it was like eating so much I was sick. Sure, I was sated, but I didn't feel good about it. Or I felt good, but I was going to regret it in the morning. And being overstimulated wasn't what I needed; I could be perfectly happy getting great sex but still having the hunger. Nothing wrong with wanting more.
These days, I'm rarely sated but usually not interested in pursuing further satiation. It's mostly my medical factors. I used to cum hard and frequently, and these days I'm lucky to get one a day (and that's often masturbation, not because I'm not having sex but because the sex isn't making me cum).
If my brain is idle, I think about sex all the fucking time. Or sexual things. Not necessarily thinking about dick in vag, just naked women or hard cocks or dripping pussies or anal or... yeah, see, I think about it all the damn time. Something will come on TV which is slightly arousing and I'm off to the races. But if I'm thinking about other things, sex doesn't come up. It doesn't distract me unless I'm incredibly hard up. I've always been able to compartmentalize with more or less success.
4. Women: Is sex secondary to intimacy, physical closeness, and commitment?
I don't know if "secondary" is the right word. It's different, as I said above. I don't want intimacy or commitment from everyone, and I don't even want sex from everyone. I'd say that in a relationship, the intimacy makes the sex better and is probably something I value more, but that's not always true.
Commitment is an odd one. I know women have a reputation for pushing guys into commitment and guys are always afraid of commitment, but that's a rom-com trope and it's not true. And you'd think that since I fuck around, I would have a low value for commitment, but that's also not true. I value commitment, just not in the traditional sense. Fidelity doesn't have to mean monogamy. If my partner was doing things behind my back which he/she had promised not to do, I would view that as a violation, regardless of whether those things were sexual or things which, had we talked about them, I would have been totally fine with.
I'm not even monogamous with love. I think you can love more than one person. So it's not even a question of, "Well, we have an open relationship but we only love each other." It's complicated and requires communication and I'm no expert at it and have fucked up in the past and will likely do so again. But I do value commitment, whatever it means.
5. Who is more discriminating in choosing sexual partners–you or your significant other?
Definitely Sveta. It's not even that she's picky about body type or personality. She just has more discrimination. She's less willing to throw herself under a bus. She's also more careful and shier about propositioning people. She picks up guys sometimes, but she's never picked up a girl without me along.
Bonus: Who is more likely to take on additional sexual partners, you or your significant other?
Definitely me, for the reasons stated above, but also because I'm less monogamous than Sveta is. I think Sveta would be perfectly happy to have a relationship with me where we were monogamous but with party exceptions. That's not to say that she doesn't get her own on the side: she has several steady-ish partners and she gets her quota. But I think that if we had a relationship where we would occasionally invite other people to share our bed and otherwise were monogamous, she'd be okay. I would probably feel confined, so it's lucky that she doesn't want that.
And no, she doesn't; we've talked about it and she's perfectly happy to get her own on the side as well, and happy to have me have my own side bits. She's not angling for anything different. But I think she could be content with occasional three/foursomes, rather than the more open relationship we have now. Hell, if we could find a guy and live in a poly threesome where she'd be able to get cock and pussy, I think she'd be okay with that.
And if that's coming off as judgmental, I assure you it isn't. I don't judge people who want monogamy of the most traditional kind (well, not for wanting monogamy; I'll judge them if they start judging me for my choices). Or no sex at all. We're all different people and we want different things. Sveta is less adventurous than I am in terms of partners, but she's very adventurous in the sack and I love that about her. Her sexuality was previously very repressed, but that she's come out of her shell doesn't mean she's become just like me. Our upbringings were very different (obviously) and our personalities are quite different in some ways, and while we're very compatible, we don't have to be the same.
Sveta is less bisexual than I am; she is attracted to women but has no interest in pursuing them. She likes naked ladies but doesn't need to be one-on-one, I guess. And I know this about her, so I know that she needs to get regular infusions of vitamin D that I can't provide. But at the same time she isn't a one-night-stand type, so if she needs a beef injection, she wants to get it from a provider she knows and has a prior understanding with. And that's totally fine. If anything, it's safer and more sensible than my modus operandi.
We're not in love and happy together because we're perfect sexual partners for each other. We're great sexual partners for each other, but we both know that we're not capable of being all things to all people, or even to one person, so we sort it out our own ways. I like variety. Sveta likes cock. I mean, I like cock too, but I don't mind if it's not the same cock every time. It's like ordering at a restaurant: Sveta goes for what she knows she'll like, even if she's ordered it every time before, whereas I'm more likely to order everything on the menu at least once.
Which isn't to say that Sveta doesn't like to order different things in the bedroom. She likes trying new things. So maybe it's more like picking a restaurant to eat at: Sveta will go for someplace she's enjoyed before, even if maybe she might miss out on a place which might have the greatest food ever. Meanwhile, I want to try a new restaurant all the time.
And on the subject of Sveta trying new things, she might be more adventurous as far as sex acts than I am. I don't mean in terms of limits, but she's had a much shorter career than I have and she's already done pretty much everything I've done, with more willingness to do it than one might expect, given her background. I remember when I first met her, wondering if she'd ever even be into lesbian sex. Now, she's down with all kinds of things, and doesn't hesitate to try something new which seems like it might be fun. She has boundaries just like I do, but she's willing to range right up to the fence on them, and she's blossomed into a sexual being which was not at all what I expected at the beginning. It sounds a bit odd, but I'm super proud of her.
Tuesday, October 17, 2017
TMI Tuesday
Guys, I know it's been basically nothing but TMI Tuesday posts recently, and I'm sorry; my life isn't as exciting as it used to be and I've run through a lot of my old memories and no one asks questions and frankly I'm not sure anyone even reads this blog any more, apart from a few die-hards (whom I love, you guys are great). But I'm not going anywhere; I just have less to say. These things happen. I still answer questions, I still respond to emails and comments, and if you are reading this, thanks for reading and I'm sorry I'm boring.
From the archives:
1. What would you do differently if you knew nobody would judge you?
Probably a few things. The big one, of course, would be that if society became totally non-judgmental about my sexual preferences I would be much more open about them. At this point I don't think it would make that much difference in how often I got down with partners whom society deems unacceptable, but I'd certainly feel less stress about it.
Other than that though, and that's less an issue of moral approbation than it is one of legal judgment, I'd probably be naked a lot more. For someone who is as in touch with their sexuality as I seem to be, I still have plenty of body image problems, so being naked in public isn't just a fear of being judged to be a whore; I'm shy and feel like people are judging my body. I know it's silly and I know I look fine, objectively, but as I get older it just gets worse.
Leaving aside the more extreme partners, I'd probably be more sexually active in public too. If society changed to where sex was no longer such a big fucking deal, I'd probably get it on communally whenever I felt like it. I'm not saying I'd hook up with random people (well, any more than I already do) but if Sveta and I were somewhere and we felt the itch, we'd fucking scratch it and know that others would be doing the same. Sounds like a nice place to live. I'm sure there are places like that in communes and so forth, but I can imagine getting the urge in the supermarket or on the street and just Discovery-Channel-ing the hell out of it.
2. Most recently how did you openly express love?
I haven't made any big romantic gestures recently, and it's something I need to work on because while it's not just big romantic gestures that count, those are important too. Recently it's been the little stuff.
3. When is the last time you took a sexual risk? What was it?
I take a sexual risk every time I have sex without protection, so probably the last time I had sex with someone who wasn't Sveta without making them wear a condom. Or maybe one could count having sex with someone where I'd be arrested if the law found out. Other than that, my sex life has been reasonably vanilla, for me, of late.
4. What sexual acts bring you the most pleasure?
This is boring, but vaginal penetration. I love anal, I love getting head, I love fingers and dildos and vibes and all that fun stuff, but the most pleasure I ever get is my pussy being penetrated, filled up, spread open. I'm not saying that the worst penetration is better than the best of anything else, but when it's good, it's better than anything else, and it doesn't have to be great or huge or deep.
That said, I get more cunt-licking than anything else these days, and I love that. But that's with my sweetie, and that makes it better. Head from a random person vs. penetration from a random person, I'd give the edge to penetration. But then I also get penetration from my sweetie, and there is something to be said for being penetrated while being licked, so best of both worlds there.
5. Is there a belief or attitude that interferes with you creating or pursuing your sexual fantasy?
I have plenty of sexual fantasies, and many of them I don't really want to pursue except as fantasy, not because of any belief, just because they're better as fantasy. But sometimes I get subbie in the extreme, and I guess my attitude of not wanting to, for lack of a better word, be subbie gets in my way. I'm not disrespecting people who are harder-core than I could ever be at all. I don't think a D/s relationship has to be abusive. I just can't get past my own feelings of equality for some reason. That's not to say that I never take a submissive position in the bedroom or other places, just that I can never fully give myself up to it. So there are fantasies which involve that which I can't do because I rebel against it.
It's probably a desire for control on my part. I don't like to be out of control. It's why I've never been one to drink to the point where I no longer have any control. And yet at the same time, not being in control is strangely attractive to me. It's an odd kink (not a sexual one, just a kink in my gray matter).
Bonus: Tell us something you need to stop wasting time doing.
Porn. I spend too much time on porn. I should just find something which will get me off and get off and be done with it, but I shop around and I fiddle. And not being able to orgasm easily (or sometimes at all) doesn't help with that.
But I don't have a list of priorities on time-wasting. I waste a lot of time. A lot. On all sorts of things. None of them are things I should probably be wasting my time on.
From the archives:
1. What would you do differently if you knew nobody would judge you?
Probably a few things. The big one, of course, would be that if society became totally non-judgmental about my sexual preferences I would be much more open about them. At this point I don't think it would make that much difference in how often I got down with partners whom society deems unacceptable, but I'd certainly feel less stress about it.
Other than that though, and that's less an issue of moral approbation than it is one of legal judgment, I'd probably be naked a lot more. For someone who is as in touch with their sexuality as I seem to be, I still have plenty of body image problems, so being naked in public isn't just a fear of being judged to be a whore; I'm shy and feel like people are judging my body. I know it's silly and I know I look fine, objectively, but as I get older it just gets worse.
Leaving aside the more extreme partners, I'd probably be more sexually active in public too. If society changed to where sex was no longer such a big fucking deal, I'd probably get it on communally whenever I felt like it. I'm not saying I'd hook up with random people (well, any more than I already do) but if Sveta and I were somewhere and we felt the itch, we'd fucking scratch it and know that others would be doing the same. Sounds like a nice place to live. I'm sure there are places like that in communes and so forth, but I can imagine getting the urge in the supermarket or on the street and just Discovery-Channel-ing the hell out of it.
2. Most recently how did you openly express love?
I haven't made any big romantic gestures recently, and it's something I need to work on because while it's not just big romantic gestures that count, those are important too. Recently it's been the little stuff.
3. When is the last time you took a sexual risk? What was it?
I take a sexual risk every time I have sex without protection, so probably the last time I had sex with someone who wasn't Sveta without making them wear a condom. Or maybe one could count having sex with someone where I'd be arrested if the law found out. Other than that, my sex life has been reasonably vanilla, for me, of late.
4. What sexual acts bring you the most pleasure?
This is boring, but vaginal penetration. I love anal, I love getting head, I love fingers and dildos and vibes and all that fun stuff, but the most pleasure I ever get is my pussy being penetrated, filled up, spread open. I'm not saying that the worst penetration is better than the best of anything else, but when it's good, it's better than anything else, and it doesn't have to be great or huge or deep.
That said, I get more cunt-licking than anything else these days, and I love that. But that's with my sweetie, and that makes it better. Head from a random person vs. penetration from a random person, I'd give the edge to penetration. But then I also get penetration from my sweetie, and there is something to be said for being penetrated while being licked, so best of both worlds there.
5. Is there a belief or attitude that interferes with you creating or pursuing your sexual fantasy?
I have plenty of sexual fantasies, and many of them I don't really want to pursue except as fantasy, not because of any belief, just because they're better as fantasy. But sometimes I get subbie in the extreme, and I guess my attitude of not wanting to, for lack of a better word, be subbie gets in my way. I'm not disrespecting people who are harder-core than I could ever be at all. I don't think a D/s relationship has to be abusive. I just can't get past my own feelings of equality for some reason. That's not to say that I never take a submissive position in the bedroom or other places, just that I can never fully give myself up to it. So there are fantasies which involve that which I can't do because I rebel against it.
It's probably a desire for control on my part. I don't like to be out of control. It's why I've never been one to drink to the point where I no longer have any control. And yet at the same time, not being in control is strangely attractive to me. It's an odd kink (not a sexual one, just a kink in my gray matter).
Bonus: Tell us something you need to stop wasting time doing.
Porn. I spend too much time on porn. I should just find something which will get me off and get off and be done with it, but I shop around and I fiddle. And not being able to orgasm easily (or sometimes at all) doesn't help with that.
But I don't have a list of priorities on time-wasting. I waste a lot of time. A lot. On all sorts of things. None of them are things I should probably be wasting my time on.
Tuesday, October 10, 2017
TMI Tuesday
From the archives:
1. For you, what is sexy time?
It's either totally spontaneous and whatever or, if I'm planning it, it's a nice, unhurried time of comfort, joy, and possibly a little exploration. I like my sexy time to be able to breathe. I don't want to be thinking about stuff I have to do later or deadlines. I don't often get that, so most of my sex isn't really sexy time per se, I suppose.
2. If your best friend asked, “Do you think I’m sexy?” What would you say?
"Absolutely." I don't think I've ever had a best friend with whom I couldn't be that honest. I'm not saying I've never had a best friend with whom I've had sex, but if they asked, I would be honest with them. Some have. Frankly, most of the time that question doesn't mean, "Do you want to fuck right now?" It's seeking reassurance that they're sexy, and I'm happy to give that reassurance.
3. If your Mom or Dad asked, “How’s your love life?” Would you answer? What would you tell them?
This question's easy too. I'd answer and tell them as much or as little as I felt like telling them. I'm not always completely open-book about my sex life with my parents, but if they ask how sex is going for me, I will at least give them a general idea. These days, I don't hold back, since often enough they're asking because they want to know how my medical difficulties are going. But I won't necessarily tell them every detail of every sexual encounter I've had since the last time we talked or anything. I know what information they're looking for.
When I was younger, my father used to ask me because it was his opening move: "Hey Lexi, how's your sex life?" And I would answer, "Not so good that I couldn't do with a bit more." And then we'd fuck. As I've gotten older, it's more of a joke with us: I'll ask him and he'll say the same thing. But it wasn't like it was a constant question, nor is that the only way we initiate.
4. A young 8-year-old neighbor asks you, “What is the birds and the bees?” How do you reply?
You wouldn't expect this, but I'll probably say, "That's something you should ask your parents about." Because I wouldn't want my neighbor giving my child sex ed, even in the most chaste way possible. Of course, if I know their parents (I don't, and I don't have any 8 year old neighbor kids asking me this, but hypothetically) I might know a more specific way to respond. But I'm not in the business of teaching sex to kids whose parents will get pissed if I do. I'd love to because people should know about sex, and I'm not at all saying that I would teach these kids anything more than perfectly appropriate stuff, but I'd rather not poke the bear, honestly. That makes me a little sad, but I just don't have the energy to fight it.
5. What would you do if your lover’s turn on is your turn off?
Well, we'd definitely have to talk about it. I've done some things for lovers in the past which weren't my thing because they were their thing, but if I was with this person steadily and the only thing they wanted to do was something I hated doing, that would be a problem and we'd probably go our separate ways. That has yet to happen in any relationship I've been in.
Bonus: What does it mean to be a man?
Whatever you want it to mean. I mean, it would be nice if it didn't mean toxic masculinity, but other than that, I'm not going to police gender. If your conception of being a man works for you and isn't hurting anyone, I don't care what it is. That's not much of an answer, but really, whose business is it what being a man means to anyone as long as it works and doesn't hurt anyone?
1. For you, what is sexy time?
It's either totally spontaneous and whatever or, if I'm planning it, it's a nice, unhurried time of comfort, joy, and possibly a little exploration. I like my sexy time to be able to breathe. I don't want to be thinking about stuff I have to do later or deadlines. I don't often get that, so most of my sex isn't really sexy time per se, I suppose.
2. If your best friend asked, “Do you think I’m sexy?” What would you say?
"Absolutely." I don't think I've ever had a best friend with whom I couldn't be that honest. I'm not saying I've never had a best friend with whom I've had sex, but if they asked, I would be honest with them. Some have. Frankly, most of the time that question doesn't mean, "Do you want to fuck right now?" It's seeking reassurance that they're sexy, and I'm happy to give that reassurance.
3. If your Mom or Dad asked, “How’s your love life?” Would you answer? What would you tell them?
This question's easy too. I'd answer and tell them as much or as little as I felt like telling them. I'm not always completely open-book about my sex life with my parents, but if they ask how sex is going for me, I will at least give them a general idea. These days, I don't hold back, since often enough they're asking because they want to know how my medical difficulties are going. But I won't necessarily tell them every detail of every sexual encounter I've had since the last time we talked or anything. I know what information they're looking for.
When I was younger, my father used to ask me because it was his opening move: "Hey Lexi, how's your sex life?" And I would answer, "Not so good that I couldn't do with a bit more." And then we'd fuck. As I've gotten older, it's more of a joke with us: I'll ask him and he'll say the same thing. But it wasn't like it was a constant question, nor is that the only way we initiate.
4. A young 8-year-old neighbor asks you, “What is the birds and the bees?” How do you reply?
You wouldn't expect this, but I'll probably say, "That's something you should ask your parents about." Because I wouldn't want my neighbor giving my child sex ed, even in the most chaste way possible. Of course, if I know their parents (I don't, and I don't have any 8 year old neighbor kids asking me this, but hypothetically) I might know a more specific way to respond. But I'm not in the business of teaching sex to kids whose parents will get pissed if I do. I'd love to because people should know about sex, and I'm not at all saying that I would teach these kids anything more than perfectly appropriate stuff, but I'd rather not poke the bear, honestly. That makes me a little sad, but I just don't have the energy to fight it.
5. What would you do if your lover’s turn on is your turn off?
Well, we'd definitely have to talk about it. I've done some things for lovers in the past which weren't my thing because they were their thing, but if I was with this person steadily and the only thing they wanted to do was something I hated doing, that would be a problem and we'd probably go our separate ways. That has yet to happen in any relationship I've been in.
Bonus: What does it mean to be a man?
Whatever you want it to mean. I mean, it would be nice if it didn't mean toxic masculinity, but other than that, I'm not going to police gender. If your conception of being a man works for you and isn't hurting anyone, I don't care what it is. That's not much of an answer, but really, whose business is it what being a man means to anyone as long as it works and doesn't hurt anyone?
Tuesday, October 3, 2017
TMI Tuesday
You are warned: this is not a good one. This is a bad one. If you want me to stop answering inane questions, please feel free to ask some. I am responsive. I answer questions. If your question isn't right for the blog, I'll still try to answer it.
Anyhow, with that disclaimer, here, from the archive:
1. Pilates or HIIT? Why?
I would rather perform minor surgery on myself with a rusty fork than do either, frankly. If I had to pick, pilates because it seems like it would suck slightly less. I don't exercise. Don't judge me.
2. Spouse or significant other-lover?
I'm a significant-other-lover all the damn time. But I suspect this is asking me to choose between my sig-O and a lover on the side. But as my sig-O is also my lover, I can have both, neener neener.
Okay, seriously, I am not a one-partner gal. Never have been. I gave it a try for a bit and it didn't work, then I tried monogamy with extras and that didn't really work either. I can commit to one person to be my life-partner (and at this point, unless things drastically change, I have) but I can't even say that they're the only person I'll fuck with love. So if it came down to it, I'd probably pick lover.
That said, the solution is to have a partnership with someone who is okay with the idea that our love isn't the only love we have, and other loves may involve sex, but that doesn't diminish our love. Which I have, thank you. I'm not polyamorous either; I don't want to have multiple life-partners. One of those, but others I care for and love and we have sex and that's okay.
3. Go clubbing or entertain friends at home?
Honestly, I don't think I've ever been clubbing. I've been barhopping a few times, and I've been to things which might be called clubs, but I've never gone out clubbing with the gals. Or if I have, it was under protest. So I'd much rather entertain at home, not even mainly because home is where the bed is. I like having people over and having a quiet evening, and it doesn't have to involve sex at all, although if it does that's great.
4. Maybach sedan or Mercedes G-class SUV
I don't give a damn about cars. If someone is giving me one, I'll take the sedan because I don't like SUVs, but I wouldn't say no to either. I would then proceed to drive it until it died. I don't give a damn about cars.
5. Soccer or Golf?
Soccer all the way. Golf is terrible. If you like it, good for you, but while I am way past my playing soccer days, I'll watch it and enjoy it. There was a time when I was reasonably into soccer, as much as one can be in this country. I enjoyed scoreless draws. I was that into it. These days, without any means of watching games and no real desire, I don't care as much, but given the choice, I'll take soccer.
6. Basketball or baseball?
Baseball. I also hate basketball, and it may have something to do with the fact that people always assumed I was good at it when I was younger because obviously tall = good at basketball. I am terrible at it, and I find watching it tedious. Baseball, like soccer, I understand that people find boring. Sveta finds pretty much all sports boring now that she's allowed to have her own opinions on the subject. And I get that baseball seems to lack action. But I appreciate good defensive play. I can get into the numbers game a little. I won't claim to be an expert or even a fan, but there was a time when I knew a fair amount about baseball too. If you're watching it on TV, the coverage team makes all the difference.
7. Monster or Red bull? Why?
Rancid monkey piss? Can that be an option? Or how about we cut to the chase and admit that you only drink this shit because you're not man enough to drink black coffee. The caffeine is the same, dude, and black coffee is macho.
8. Office with a view or work at home?
Work at home, I guess, although I'm bad at it. I'm not great at self-motivating at the moment. Fortunately, my current job isn't one I could do remotely, so it's not an issue.
9. Early bird or night owl?
Is there something past night owl? Like insomniac monkey?
10. Boyfriend or Girlfriend?
Which would I rather have, or currently have? I mean, I guess I currently have a girlfriend, but that name's not a good one for what I have. Life-partner is much better, and less judgmental I guess.
Which would I prefer? I've had long-term relationships relatively rarely, and in my very limited experience, ones with women have a lot to recommend them. I'm still fucking boys though. I can't give up the cock.
11. Ice cream or gelato?
Neither are my favorite. Depends on the flavor. And you've forgotten custard. I don't really know that I could choose: both are fine, but I'll take a brownie over either any day.
12. Silver or gold?
Copper, bronze, or brass. Silver and gold are both lovely, but they don't have that elemental quality. I like iron and steel too. But I love the color of the copper-derivatives. And they're much more interesting historically. There was a time when bronze was probably worth its weight in gold. I guess if I had to choose, rose gold is the closest. But I'm actually probably fonder of silver than gold in terms of look. Gold is very, very easy to make gaudy. Silver is less presumptuous and it goes with more things if we're accessorizing.
Bonus: Money or fame? Why?
Money. Fame is a killer and won't buy you dinner. And it's fleeting. I would love to be famous just so I could make money off of my fame, and sure, there's some ego involved, but if given the choice between being obscenely wealthy but no one knows who I am and being renowned but poor, I'd probably take the money. Yes, I wouldn't be remembered after I die, but I'm not sure that's fame. I could put money to good use if I had enough of it, and people would remember me for being a good person, not a famous one. Also, I'm deeply anxious about the state of my finances at the moment and fame wouldn't help that at all. So give me the money. Email me for a location to drop off the briefcase full of hundreds please.
Anyhow, with that disclaimer, here, from the archive:
1. Pilates or HIIT? Why?
I would rather perform minor surgery on myself with a rusty fork than do either, frankly. If I had to pick, pilates because it seems like it would suck slightly less. I don't exercise. Don't judge me.
2. Spouse or significant other-lover?
I'm a significant-other-lover all the damn time. But I suspect this is asking me to choose between my sig-O and a lover on the side. But as my sig-O is also my lover, I can have both, neener neener.
Okay, seriously, I am not a one-partner gal. Never have been. I gave it a try for a bit and it didn't work, then I tried monogamy with extras and that didn't really work either. I can commit to one person to be my life-partner (and at this point, unless things drastically change, I have) but I can't even say that they're the only person I'll fuck with love. So if it came down to it, I'd probably pick lover.
That said, the solution is to have a partnership with someone who is okay with the idea that our love isn't the only love we have, and other loves may involve sex, but that doesn't diminish our love. Which I have, thank you. I'm not polyamorous either; I don't want to have multiple life-partners. One of those, but others I care for and love and we have sex and that's okay.
3. Go clubbing or entertain friends at home?
Honestly, I don't think I've ever been clubbing. I've been barhopping a few times, and I've been to things which might be called clubs, but I've never gone out clubbing with the gals. Or if I have, it was under protest. So I'd much rather entertain at home, not even mainly because home is where the bed is. I like having people over and having a quiet evening, and it doesn't have to involve sex at all, although if it does that's great.
4. Maybach sedan or Mercedes G-class SUV
I don't give a damn about cars. If someone is giving me one, I'll take the sedan because I don't like SUVs, but I wouldn't say no to either. I would then proceed to drive it until it died. I don't give a damn about cars.
5. Soccer or Golf?
Soccer all the way. Golf is terrible. If you like it, good for you, but while I am way past my playing soccer days, I'll watch it and enjoy it. There was a time when I was reasonably into soccer, as much as one can be in this country. I enjoyed scoreless draws. I was that into it. These days, without any means of watching games and no real desire, I don't care as much, but given the choice, I'll take soccer.
6. Basketball or baseball?
Baseball. I also hate basketball, and it may have something to do with the fact that people always assumed I was good at it when I was younger because obviously tall = good at basketball. I am terrible at it, and I find watching it tedious. Baseball, like soccer, I understand that people find boring. Sveta finds pretty much all sports boring now that she's allowed to have her own opinions on the subject. And I get that baseball seems to lack action. But I appreciate good defensive play. I can get into the numbers game a little. I won't claim to be an expert or even a fan, but there was a time when I knew a fair amount about baseball too. If you're watching it on TV, the coverage team makes all the difference.
7. Monster or Red bull? Why?
Rancid monkey piss? Can that be an option? Or how about we cut to the chase and admit that you only drink this shit because you're not man enough to drink black coffee. The caffeine is the same, dude, and black coffee is macho.
8. Office with a view or work at home?
Work at home, I guess, although I'm bad at it. I'm not great at self-motivating at the moment. Fortunately, my current job isn't one I could do remotely, so it's not an issue.
9. Early bird or night owl?
Is there something past night owl? Like insomniac monkey?
10. Boyfriend or Girlfriend?
Which would I rather have, or currently have? I mean, I guess I currently have a girlfriend, but that name's not a good one for what I have. Life-partner is much better, and less judgmental I guess.
Which would I prefer? I've had long-term relationships relatively rarely, and in my very limited experience, ones with women have a lot to recommend them. I'm still fucking boys though. I can't give up the cock.
11. Ice cream or gelato?
Neither are my favorite. Depends on the flavor. And you've forgotten custard. I don't really know that I could choose: both are fine, but I'll take a brownie over either any day.
12. Silver or gold?
Copper, bronze, or brass. Silver and gold are both lovely, but they don't have that elemental quality. I like iron and steel too. But I love the color of the copper-derivatives. And they're much more interesting historically. There was a time when bronze was probably worth its weight in gold. I guess if I had to choose, rose gold is the closest. But I'm actually probably fonder of silver than gold in terms of look. Gold is very, very easy to make gaudy. Silver is less presumptuous and it goes with more things if we're accessorizing.
Bonus: Money or fame? Why?
Money. Fame is a killer and won't buy you dinner. And it's fleeting. I would love to be famous just so I could make money off of my fame, and sure, there's some ego involved, but if given the choice between being obscenely wealthy but no one knows who I am and being renowned but poor, I'd probably take the money. Yes, I wouldn't be remembered after I die, but I'm not sure that's fame. I could put money to good use if I had enough of it, and people would remember me for being a good person, not a famous one. Also, I'm deeply anxious about the state of my finances at the moment and fame wouldn't help that at all. So give me the money. Email me for a location to drop off the briefcase full of hundreds please.
Tuesday, September 26, 2017
TMI Tuesday
From the archives:
1. If you and your significant other played “sexual truth or dare” with other couples, would you rather watch your s.o. have sex with someone or would you prefer having sex with someone in front of your s.o.?
At this point, I'd probably take one for the team and let Sveta fuck. I like watching her, and she'd likely get more out of it than I would, plus I'd get things out of watching. She's fun to watch. And if the whole time I was thinking, "You may have her now, but she's going home with me," who's going to know?
2. Would you rather watch your favorite porn with your sibling or read your favorite sexy erotica out loud to your parent(s)?
I've done the former. As strange as it might be to say, I think I might feel awkward about the latter. That's odd to think about, having never really considered it before. So I'd happily watch any porn at all with any/all of my siblings.
Odder still, though I have watched porn with my parents, I'd still rather watch it with my siblings. My mother's taste in porn isn't bad, but it's pretty vanilla. My father and I like some of the same things, but neither of them are into the weirder stuff, whereas Sheri or Mike and I can watch strange porn and laugh about it. Mari would be mostly into girl/girl, which isn't bad, but I like penises in my porn. Girl/girl stuff just doesn't make me cum, though I like multiple naked women just fine. I like to see penetration, I guess. Strapons would probably work, but it's still not the same. I don't know why. Just my particular kink, I guess. Mari also doesn't particularly care about watching lesbian sex per se. She enjoys naked women. If there are more than one of them, hey, that's just more than one naked woman. But she's also the least into porn in general, although maybe Mom is right there with her.
3. To get sexually aroused, would you rather watch girl on girl porn or guy on guy porn?
As a continuation, you'd think that I'd go for guy on guy, but actually I don't find gay porn that arousing. I mean, being in the room with gay sex is great, but it still doesn't make me cum. At least with two girls I can ogle two girls. But while I confess a slight preference for girl on girl, either will work in a pinch. There are genres of both that I don't get into, but if the guys look good, I'm fine with that too.
4. Would you rather have sex with your boss, in an office conference room or masturbate at home knowing that your neighbor is watching?
My current boss and I would never have sex. Ever. He's gay, for one, but even if he was going to throw me a bone, while I like him, I am not at all attracted to him. In the general question though, even if I would have sex with my boss given the chance, I would probably rather be watched masturbating by a neighbor. I'm shy, but if I knew what was happening, I could get into the exhibitionism of it.
It's the consequences which really throw this question for a loop though. Being watched by a neighbor is a bit creepy, and if the neighbor is creepy, I would worry a bit. But fucking the boss is just never a good idea. I've done it and the best you can hope for is that the sex is good and then you never see each other again. And a neighbor talking about having watched you masturbate is embarrassing for them, whereas a boss doesn't have as much blowback, even if you don't assume the sex was entirely consensual. So I'm sticking with my answer. I never see my neighbors anyway, and if they watched me spank it and then gave me knowing looks, I'd deal.
5. Based on your current mood, would you rather try out new and kinky sex ideas or have romantic sex?
Romantic. That is definitely not always true, but at the time of this writing, I just want a nice, sensual session with a trusted partner. I mean, I get that frequently, but it doesn't mean I don't continue to want it. And I miss some of my past partners with whom I was quite romantic, so if this is a genie/wish situation, I'd like to spend some time with them.
Bonus: Would you rather have three kids and no money or no kids with three million dollars?
This may sound very strange, but though I have a serious pregnancy fetish, I don't really want to have kids. I mean, if it were possible I'd have them, I guess, but in the situation described, I wouldn't feel right bringing three children into a world where they would be poor. Hell, given the way the world is currently going, I don't know that I would bring kids into it even if I were given the millions. And I could really use the money. So where do I go to collect the check?
1. If you and your significant other played “sexual truth or dare” with other couples, would you rather watch your s.o. have sex with someone or would you prefer having sex with someone in front of your s.o.?
At this point, I'd probably take one for the team and let Sveta fuck. I like watching her, and she'd likely get more out of it than I would, plus I'd get things out of watching. She's fun to watch. And if the whole time I was thinking, "You may have her now, but she's going home with me," who's going to know?
2. Would you rather watch your favorite porn with your sibling or read your favorite sexy erotica out loud to your parent(s)?
I've done the former. As strange as it might be to say, I think I might feel awkward about the latter. That's odd to think about, having never really considered it before. So I'd happily watch any porn at all with any/all of my siblings.
Odder still, though I have watched porn with my parents, I'd still rather watch it with my siblings. My mother's taste in porn isn't bad, but it's pretty vanilla. My father and I like some of the same things, but neither of them are into the weirder stuff, whereas Sheri or Mike and I can watch strange porn and laugh about it. Mari would be mostly into girl/girl, which isn't bad, but I like penises in my porn. Girl/girl stuff just doesn't make me cum, though I like multiple naked women just fine. I like to see penetration, I guess. Strapons would probably work, but it's still not the same. I don't know why. Just my particular kink, I guess. Mari also doesn't particularly care about watching lesbian sex per se. She enjoys naked women. If there are more than one of them, hey, that's just more than one naked woman. But she's also the least into porn in general, although maybe Mom is right there with her.
3. To get sexually aroused, would you rather watch girl on girl porn or guy on guy porn?
As a continuation, you'd think that I'd go for guy on guy, but actually I don't find gay porn that arousing. I mean, being in the room with gay sex is great, but it still doesn't make me cum. At least with two girls I can ogle two girls. But while I confess a slight preference for girl on girl, either will work in a pinch. There are genres of both that I don't get into, but if the guys look good, I'm fine with that too.
4. Would you rather have sex with your boss, in an office conference room or masturbate at home knowing that your neighbor is watching?
My current boss and I would never have sex. Ever. He's gay, for one, but even if he was going to throw me a bone, while I like him, I am not at all attracted to him. In the general question though, even if I would have sex with my boss given the chance, I would probably rather be watched masturbating by a neighbor. I'm shy, but if I knew what was happening, I could get into the exhibitionism of it.
It's the consequences which really throw this question for a loop though. Being watched by a neighbor is a bit creepy, and if the neighbor is creepy, I would worry a bit. But fucking the boss is just never a good idea. I've done it and the best you can hope for is that the sex is good and then you never see each other again. And a neighbor talking about having watched you masturbate is embarrassing for them, whereas a boss doesn't have as much blowback, even if you don't assume the sex was entirely consensual. So I'm sticking with my answer. I never see my neighbors anyway, and if they watched me spank it and then gave me knowing looks, I'd deal.
5. Based on your current mood, would you rather try out new and kinky sex ideas or have romantic sex?
Romantic. That is definitely not always true, but at the time of this writing, I just want a nice, sensual session with a trusted partner. I mean, I get that frequently, but it doesn't mean I don't continue to want it. And I miss some of my past partners with whom I was quite romantic, so if this is a genie/wish situation, I'd like to spend some time with them.
Bonus: Would you rather have three kids and no money or no kids with three million dollars?
This may sound very strange, but though I have a serious pregnancy fetish, I don't really want to have kids. I mean, if it were possible I'd have them, I guess, but in the situation described, I wouldn't feel right bringing three children into a world where they would be poor. Hell, given the way the world is currently going, I don't know that I would bring kids into it even if I were given the millions. And I could really use the money. So where do I go to collect the check?
Friday, September 22, 2017
AF Fucking K
My computer has died. Not sure when I'll be able to fix it or even if it can be fixed, and on my salary if it can't be I'm not sure whether I'll be able to get another. There are a few TMIs in the pipeline but other than that, I'm not dead but I am unable to get on a computer to check my emails, comments, or post anything. Sorry. I'll be back when I can be. Just so you know.
Tuesday, September 19, 2017
TMI Tuesday
From the archives:
1. The last time you had sex, was it urgent or essential? Consider masturbation or sex with a partner.
Those are my two options, or is it asking if it was either of them or both? The last time I masturbated it was probably essential because mama needs to get off every so often, even if mama can't enjoy it as much as she'd like to.
The last time I had sex, it wasn't urgent. It was a nice finish to a day.
2. What should you stop doing? Why?
Eating so much crap, maybe. I try, but I eat my feelings a lot, and feelings taste better with cheese. I'm not saying I should eat less crap so I can make weight or anything. I just need to eat healthier. I eat reasonably healthy a lot of the time, but it's not good enough.
3. What makes you feel strongest? Sexiest?
Strongest physically? I don't know, lifting something heavy that other people can't, I guess. Or that people assume I won't be able to lift. I'm pretty strong from my various work experience, so I can lift things that people assume a frail female won't be able to shift. I enjoy the looks on faces when that happens, I suppose.
Strongest mentally? If I knew that, I'd do it more often. I'm not mentally strong these days.
Sexiest? A nice set of underthings makes me feel very sexy, particularly if someone can appreciate them. But I sometimes wear sexy underwear under work clothes for no reason other than that I know I'm wearing them, and thus I feel a little sexy.
4. When do you feel vulnerable?
All the goddamn time.
5. What is missing from your sex life?
More of it? I think Sveta and I are both wishing we had more other players in our sex life, not separately but together. We both like having a third or fourth partner, and we don't get that as often as we'd like. But I can't really complain about my sex life. Well, I can, but I won't.
Bonus: If you left your current lover, what would you miss the most?
Sexually, I'd miss her utter enthusiasm. And at the same time, while she's being enthusiastic, she also still comes off as so innocent and demure. I'd miss that in the bedroom.
But sex wouldn't make the top ten in terms of things I'd miss if I didn't have Sveta. She's my rock. I'd miss feeling her, knowing she's near. I'd miss touching her, not in a sexy way, even just bumping into her or holding her hand or having her head on my shoulder. I'd miss her laugh. I'd miss pretty much everything about her, and I don't know that I can choose what I'd miss most. All of it. I'm sappy and I don't give a fuck.
1. The last time you had sex, was it urgent or essential? Consider masturbation or sex with a partner.
Those are my two options, or is it asking if it was either of them or both? The last time I masturbated it was probably essential because mama needs to get off every so often, even if mama can't enjoy it as much as she'd like to.
The last time I had sex, it wasn't urgent. It was a nice finish to a day.
2. What should you stop doing? Why?
Eating so much crap, maybe. I try, but I eat my feelings a lot, and feelings taste better with cheese. I'm not saying I should eat less crap so I can make weight or anything. I just need to eat healthier. I eat reasonably healthy a lot of the time, but it's not good enough.
3. What makes you feel strongest? Sexiest?
Strongest physically? I don't know, lifting something heavy that other people can't, I guess. Or that people assume I won't be able to lift. I'm pretty strong from my various work experience, so I can lift things that people assume a frail female won't be able to shift. I enjoy the looks on faces when that happens, I suppose.
Strongest mentally? If I knew that, I'd do it more often. I'm not mentally strong these days.
Sexiest? A nice set of underthings makes me feel very sexy, particularly if someone can appreciate them. But I sometimes wear sexy underwear under work clothes for no reason other than that I know I'm wearing them, and thus I feel a little sexy.
4. When do you feel vulnerable?
All the goddamn time.
5. What is missing from your sex life?
More of it? I think Sveta and I are both wishing we had more other players in our sex life, not separately but together. We both like having a third or fourth partner, and we don't get that as often as we'd like. But I can't really complain about my sex life. Well, I can, but I won't.
Bonus: If you left your current lover, what would you miss the most?
Sexually, I'd miss her utter enthusiasm. And at the same time, while she's being enthusiastic, she also still comes off as so innocent and demure. I'd miss that in the bedroom.
But sex wouldn't make the top ten in terms of things I'd miss if I didn't have Sveta. She's my rock. I'd miss feeling her, knowing she's near. I'd miss touching her, not in a sexy way, even just bumping into her or holding her hand or having her head on my shoulder. I'd miss her laugh. I'd miss pretty much everything about her, and I don't know that I can choose what I'd miss most. All of it. I'm sappy and I don't give a fuck.
Tuesday, September 12, 2017
TMI Tuesday
From the archives:
1. If you are on facebook, when was the last time you had to “unfriend” someone and why?
I am, personally. Don't go looking for me. And I practically never use Facebook. I check it every so often, but it's mostly for either work (I have work people who will only communicate via Messenger, annoyingly) or the occasional birthday well-wish. I'm not sure I've ever unfriended anyone on Facebook. Maybe the ex of someone I'm friends with. But it's not something I do not because I care about pissing people off but because I just don't keep track or really give a shit. Facebook is stupid, kids.
2. What are you addicted to?
Orgasms. I think I've answered that one before. Definitely orgasms. Probably food. I have a somewhat unhealthy relationship with food. But I try to keep it in check. I'm not addicted to much of anything else, and the things I've been addicted to in the past, substance-wise, haven't been much to write home about. I've quit most things I've ever quit cold turkey. I'm not saying that because I think it makes me a better person. Substances don't affect me in the normal way, most of the time. When I smoked, I was never addicted to nicotine, I was just psychologically addicted to the action of smoking, I guess. Caffeine, ditto. I've never met a drug which affected me in a way which was normal, including some significantly-habit-forming and scheduled prescription drugs.
3. What are the first 3 things you do every morning?
Moan, swear, and attain verticality. I don't have a morning routine, and anyway it's usually not morning because of my horrible sleep patterns and accompanying work schedule. I hate waking up.
4. How lucky are you and why?
On the one hand, I'm very lucky. On the other, I have terrible luck. I don't really believe in luck though, and I think most people think they're less "lucky" than they actually are. I have many good things in my life which I'm happy to have, and I also have many problems. As for why, because the entropy of the universe causes things to happen? If you were hoping for a story where I killed an old Gypsy with a broken mirror under a ladder or something, yeah, I don't have an explanation.
When I say, "I don't believe in luck," that sounds incredibly cocky, like I'm about to "make my own luck" or something. I don't mean it like that. I've never believed that there was some score I had in the divine balance sheet which dictated what terrible things happened to me, or what good things. Most of it is out of my control, but that's not luck, that's random chance. It's not "lucky" to be born rich, or with good genes, or of the correct skin tone for your particular situation. It's just chance, and chance doesn't give a shit about you.
That's all very fatalistic. In the grand scheme of things, were I to believe that I had a "luck" score, I'd say that most days I feel like my luck is pretty terrible, but that's selfish and stupid and I know this. I'm very lucky in many ways. The ways I'm not make it hard to appreciate, but it could be much worse.
5. What is one thing you’re embarrassed to admit you want to try?
Depends on to whom I'm admitting it. I wouldn't want to admit many things I have tried to many people. And things I'd like to try, I'm not embarrassed to admit them if it's to the right person. I don't know. It's not that I'm not hung up about things, but most things I'm hung up about, I don't want to try. I don't know that I have that many things I want to try that I wouldn't admit, albeit perhaps not to the Pope, for instance.
Bonus: Are you proud of what you are doing?
Proud, no. Ashamed, also no. I like my job, but I'm not really proud of it. It's a job, it's a decent job, and if it paid a bit better I'd be happier, but that doesn't make me ashamed to admit what I'm doing for a living. I guess if I were curing cancer or something I'd be proud of my work, but as it is, it's work that I don't hate doing, which is nice but not something I take pride in beyond doing a good job.
As for the rest of what I'm doing, I'm not proud of that because I'm mostly just coasting. A bit shameful. I wish I were more driven or successful or fulfilled or whatever people look for. I guess I'm ashamed of my life in general, just a bit. But then I don't do all that much, so it's hard to be proud of doing quite little.
These were boring and unsexy questions. You should ask some that aren't.
1. If you are on facebook, when was the last time you had to “unfriend” someone and why?
I am, personally. Don't go looking for me. And I practically never use Facebook. I check it every so often, but it's mostly for either work (I have work people who will only communicate via Messenger, annoyingly) or the occasional birthday well-wish. I'm not sure I've ever unfriended anyone on Facebook. Maybe the ex of someone I'm friends with. But it's not something I do not because I care about pissing people off but because I just don't keep track or really give a shit. Facebook is stupid, kids.
2. What are you addicted to?
Orgasms. I think I've answered that one before. Definitely orgasms. Probably food. I have a somewhat unhealthy relationship with food. But I try to keep it in check. I'm not addicted to much of anything else, and the things I've been addicted to in the past, substance-wise, haven't been much to write home about. I've quit most things I've ever quit cold turkey. I'm not saying that because I think it makes me a better person. Substances don't affect me in the normal way, most of the time. When I smoked, I was never addicted to nicotine, I was just psychologically addicted to the action of smoking, I guess. Caffeine, ditto. I've never met a drug which affected me in a way which was normal, including some significantly-habit-forming and scheduled prescription drugs.
3. What are the first 3 things you do every morning?
Moan, swear, and attain verticality. I don't have a morning routine, and anyway it's usually not morning because of my horrible sleep patterns and accompanying work schedule. I hate waking up.
4. How lucky are you and why?
On the one hand, I'm very lucky. On the other, I have terrible luck. I don't really believe in luck though, and I think most people think they're less "lucky" than they actually are. I have many good things in my life which I'm happy to have, and I also have many problems. As for why, because the entropy of the universe causes things to happen? If you were hoping for a story where I killed an old Gypsy with a broken mirror under a ladder or something, yeah, I don't have an explanation.
When I say, "I don't believe in luck," that sounds incredibly cocky, like I'm about to "make my own luck" or something. I don't mean it like that. I've never believed that there was some score I had in the divine balance sheet which dictated what terrible things happened to me, or what good things. Most of it is out of my control, but that's not luck, that's random chance. It's not "lucky" to be born rich, or with good genes, or of the correct skin tone for your particular situation. It's just chance, and chance doesn't give a shit about you.
That's all very fatalistic. In the grand scheme of things, were I to believe that I had a "luck" score, I'd say that most days I feel like my luck is pretty terrible, but that's selfish and stupid and I know this. I'm very lucky in many ways. The ways I'm not make it hard to appreciate, but it could be much worse.
5. What is one thing you’re embarrassed to admit you want to try?
Depends on to whom I'm admitting it. I wouldn't want to admit many things I have tried to many people. And things I'd like to try, I'm not embarrassed to admit them if it's to the right person. I don't know. It's not that I'm not hung up about things, but most things I'm hung up about, I don't want to try. I don't know that I have that many things I want to try that I wouldn't admit, albeit perhaps not to the Pope, for instance.
Bonus: Are you proud of what you are doing?
Proud, no. Ashamed, also no. I like my job, but I'm not really proud of it. It's a job, it's a decent job, and if it paid a bit better I'd be happier, but that doesn't make me ashamed to admit what I'm doing for a living. I guess if I were curing cancer or something I'd be proud of my work, but as it is, it's work that I don't hate doing, which is nice but not something I take pride in beyond doing a good job.
As for the rest of what I'm doing, I'm not proud of that because I'm mostly just coasting. A bit shameful. I wish I were more driven or successful or fulfilled or whatever people look for. I guess I'm ashamed of my life in general, just a bit. But then I don't do all that much, so it's hard to be proud of doing quite little.
These were boring and unsexy questions. You should ask some that aren't.
Tuesday, September 5, 2017
TMI Tuesday
From the archives. Seriously, ask me questions or I'm just going to keep doing these stupid things.
1. Whasssssuuuupppppp?
Get out. If you answer your phone like this, get a better brain. Of course, my uncle, whenever he calls anyone he knows, starts with, "What're you doin'?" Before the days of caller ID (which for me was not that long ago) you'd pick up the phone and hear, "What're you doin'?" and for a second, no matter how many times it happened, wonder if this was the day you finally got an obscene phone call. I love Uncle Sam to death, but Jesus dude, what's wrong with, "Hey, it's your uncle?"
2. Where’s Waldo?
#2 in this article. There, you're welcome.
3. The best part of waking up is?
Sex. I hate waking up, but since you can't really enjoy sex when you're asleep, it's probably the best part of waking up.
4. Got Milk?
Actually, we do currently have some because we got a hankering for cookies and milk. Usually we don't. And as I'm unlikely to ever produce my own, that's probably where it'll be.
5. Have you driven a Ford lately?
No. I can't think of the last time I drove a Ford. I've never owned one. Maybe a truck I drove for work at some point was a Ford?
6. What would you do for a Klondike bar?
Very little because I don't care for them. Most of them are vanilla, which I don't like, and they're just not my thing in general. I would do plenty for a good brownie though.
7. Pardon me, do you have any Grey Poupon?
I don't think I do. I like Grey Poupon but even if I get Dijon mustard it's usually generic because I'm poor and only suckers buy the brand unless it's demonstrably better than the generic. Seriously, buy generic. Yes, there are some things which are better, but until you know, buy generic. A lot of the time, (trade secret) the generic is made by the same company that produces the brand name item. Seriously, this is true. At my supermarket, the generic ketchup is made by Heinz, the chain buys it in bulk and then packages it as the store brand. No, I don't mean buy sketchy generics from the dollar store, but if you've got a market you trust, the store brand is usually just as good if not better plus way cheaper.
8. Do you Yahoo?
Does anyone? Wait, don't answer that. You shouldn't. I'm not saying you have to sell your soul to Google, but Yahoo has a very bad track record.
Bonus: Is a picture worth a thousand words? Elaborate.
The right picture is perhaps a substitute for the right thousand words. But there's a reason we don't scrawl on cave walls with our own feces any more, and it's because language is descriptive in a way that images aren't. Images are also descriptive in a way language isn't. Sometimes yes, sometimes no. Also, we don't like dying of fecal bacterial infections when appreciating art, to say nothing of the smell. No, I'm not being serious and yes, I think cave paintings are wonderful. Just that I bet there were words to go along with them which didn't get preserved.
But we should all agree that, "If a picture paints a thousand words, then why can't I paint you?" is just comically awful as a lyric. Seriously Bread, get your head out of your ass. I get what you're trying to say, but if a guy ever said that to me I'd laugh in his face.
1. Whasssssuuuupppppp?
Get out. If you answer your phone like this, get a better brain. Of course, my uncle, whenever he calls anyone he knows, starts with, "What're you doin'?" Before the days of caller ID (which for me was not that long ago) you'd pick up the phone and hear, "What're you doin'?" and for a second, no matter how many times it happened, wonder if this was the day you finally got an obscene phone call. I love Uncle Sam to death, but Jesus dude, what's wrong with, "Hey, it's your uncle?"
2. Where’s Waldo?
#2 in this article. There, you're welcome.
3. The best part of waking up is?
Sex. I hate waking up, but since you can't really enjoy sex when you're asleep, it's probably the best part of waking up.
4. Got Milk?
Actually, we do currently have some because we got a hankering for cookies and milk. Usually we don't. And as I'm unlikely to ever produce my own, that's probably where it'll be.
5. Have you driven a Ford lately?
No. I can't think of the last time I drove a Ford. I've never owned one. Maybe a truck I drove for work at some point was a Ford?
6. What would you do for a Klondike bar?
Very little because I don't care for them. Most of them are vanilla, which I don't like, and they're just not my thing in general. I would do plenty for a good brownie though.
7. Pardon me, do you have any Grey Poupon?
I don't think I do. I like Grey Poupon but even if I get Dijon mustard it's usually generic because I'm poor and only suckers buy the brand unless it's demonstrably better than the generic. Seriously, buy generic. Yes, there are some things which are better, but until you know, buy generic. A lot of the time, (trade secret) the generic is made by the same company that produces the brand name item. Seriously, this is true. At my supermarket, the generic ketchup is made by Heinz, the chain buys it in bulk and then packages it as the store brand. No, I don't mean buy sketchy generics from the dollar store, but if you've got a market you trust, the store brand is usually just as good if not better plus way cheaper.
8. Do you Yahoo?
Does anyone? Wait, don't answer that. You shouldn't. I'm not saying you have to sell your soul to Google, but Yahoo has a very bad track record.
Bonus: Is a picture worth a thousand words? Elaborate.
The right picture is perhaps a substitute for the right thousand words. But there's a reason we don't scrawl on cave walls with our own feces any more, and it's because language is descriptive in a way that images aren't. Images are also descriptive in a way language isn't. Sometimes yes, sometimes no. Also, we don't like dying of fecal bacterial infections when appreciating art, to say nothing of the smell. No, I'm not being serious and yes, I think cave paintings are wonderful. Just that I bet there were words to go along with them which didn't get preserved.
But we should all agree that, "If a picture paints a thousand words, then why can't I paint you?" is just comically awful as a lyric. Seriously Bread, get your head out of your ass. I get what you're trying to say, but if a guy ever said that to me I'd laugh in his face.
Tuesday, August 29, 2017
TMI Tuesday
From the archives. Seriously, I'm just picking these pretty much at random, so if I've already answered these, it'll have been a while and I will have forgotten my previous answers, thus they may be completely different.
1. Where is the most beautiful place on earth and why?
I love waterfalls in isolated areas. The big ones are majestic but not as isolated. There's probably some spot in a forest somewhere which is the most beautiful place but no one has ever seen it. Waterfalls in general though. Tranquil, I love the sounds, I like swimming naked in them if possible.
2. How old is the most expired item in your fridge?
Years and years old. We have to throw out condiments which are left over from before we moved. We're just lazy.
3. What’s under your bed?
Boxes, sometimes a cat, dust, cat toys, probably things I've been looking for everywhere but haven't found, and the sex box with lube, toys, etc. Not that we don't have those last elsewhere, just that there is a box with sex stuff under the bed as well. It's not the stuff we use regularly; that's all more accessible. But it's storage where we can get at it. Can't put that stuff in the attic; it's not temperature controlled.
4. What is in your pocket?
Right now, I'm not wearing anything with pockets. Typically my wallet, a tissue (yes, I'm one of those people, but I need them constantly and they're rarely available), maybe my phone.
5. Which famous person would you like to be best-friends with? Why?
Someone fabulously wealthy who would just give me money? That's not really an answer. I'd love to be best friends with one or more of the MST3K guys because they seem like they'd be fun to be friends with. They're not so famous that it would be like being the third wheel wherever we were. But I don't know that we'd have much in common apart from bad movies. I really don't want to randomly be best friends with famous people. It would have to happen organically, and then it probably wouldn't because I'm bad at making friends.
6. There is now a line of lacy lingerie for men. Would you wear it or like to see your man in it?
Yeah, this isn't new. I don't give a damn one way or the other; I'm not into men's underwear except when women wear boxers which can be very sexy. I like ladies' underwear; in men, I like them naked and hard.
Bonus: Think The Olympics. Men’s gymnastic uniforms–sexy or goofy? Discuss!
I think men in gymnastics should have to wear leotards and tights just like the girls do. That would both be sexy and fair. The current uniforms seem a little silly to me, but whatever. I don't watch gymnastics for the men. They're fine to look at, but they're not eye-candy. I watch swimming and beach volleyball for male eye candy.
1. Where is the most beautiful place on earth and why?
I love waterfalls in isolated areas. The big ones are majestic but not as isolated. There's probably some spot in a forest somewhere which is the most beautiful place but no one has ever seen it. Waterfalls in general though. Tranquil, I love the sounds, I like swimming naked in them if possible.
2. How old is the most expired item in your fridge?
Years and years old. We have to throw out condiments which are left over from before we moved. We're just lazy.
3. What’s under your bed?
Boxes, sometimes a cat, dust, cat toys, probably things I've been looking for everywhere but haven't found, and the sex box with lube, toys, etc. Not that we don't have those last elsewhere, just that there is a box with sex stuff under the bed as well. It's not the stuff we use regularly; that's all more accessible. But it's storage where we can get at it. Can't put that stuff in the attic; it's not temperature controlled.
4. What is in your pocket?
Right now, I'm not wearing anything with pockets. Typically my wallet, a tissue (yes, I'm one of those people, but I need them constantly and they're rarely available), maybe my phone.
5. Which famous person would you like to be best-friends with? Why?
Someone fabulously wealthy who would just give me money? That's not really an answer. I'd love to be best friends with one or more of the MST3K guys because they seem like they'd be fun to be friends with. They're not so famous that it would be like being the third wheel wherever we were. But I don't know that we'd have much in common apart from bad movies. I really don't want to randomly be best friends with famous people. It would have to happen organically, and then it probably wouldn't because I'm bad at making friends.
6. There is now a line of lacy lingerie for men. Would you wear it or like to see your man in it?
Yeah, this isn't new. I don't give a damn one way or the other; I'm not into men's underwear except when women wear boxers which can be very sexy. I like ladies' underwear; in men, I like them naked and hard.
Bonus: Think The Olympics. Men’s gymnastic uniforms–sexy or goofy? Discuss!
I think men in gymnastics should have to wear leotards and tights just like the girls do. That would both be sexy and fair. The current uniforms seem a little silly to me, but whatever. I don't watch gymnastics for the men. They're fine to look at, but they're not eye-candy. I watch swimming and beach volleyball for male eye candy.
Monday, August 28, 2017
My Conversion Shirt Friend is Back
Be careful what you wish for, I guess. Except no, I wished for this and I'm totally down with it and please send more so I can continue to enjoy the strange wonder that is... well, I'll call him Jak because that's what I called him last time.
You may recall I got a strange comment in January which I attributed to Russian hackers trying to bring me to Jesus. Well, he's back, although less Russian this time (hell, I don't know if it's a "he" at all). Jak really wants to convert me, and he does so by repeating things his youth pastor wore on a t-shirt one time. It's so great.
This was a comment for The Band is Back Together for reasons only Jak can explain, but hasn't.
So much to unpack here and I'm not going to get to it all because it's all so good.
First of all, I don't take my theology from movies about people cutting their own legs off (or whatever that torture-porn shit is), so I sure hope that SAW stands for something else. Except I'm pretty sure it doesn't, because isn't the whole thing in SAW that he has to choose to cut his own leg off? I haven't seen it. I'm not sure Jak has either. His youth pastor probably wouldn't approve. So let's give him the benefit of the doubt and assume that SAW stands for "Sisters Against War." And I'm for that. I'll choose to be against war any day.
This seems less like Russian propaganda this time, which is a shame. I was hoping to hear more about J-Prog's further adventures.
But to return to the beginning: I hate to break it to you Jak, but there's a thing called a 3-way switch. Is the third position Purgatory? If I don't flip the switch the right way, will I wind up with the unbaptized babies and Aristotle? I mean, Aristotle sounds fine (though I doubt he'd think much of me, being a woman and all) but billions of unbaptized babies screaming for all eternity? I'll take Abyss O'Misery, who was an Irish pub owner if I recall correctly. We could listen to ExtremeSupersonicSeventh-Heaven, which was a Red Hot Chili Peppers album from the '90s if memory serves.
I'm not sure why Jak felt the need to reassure me that "you" was "[pl]" which I assume means the collective you, or "y'all" in the vernacular, or "youse" as he put it before. I guess he wanted to make sure I knew that he wasn't just talking to me, but to all sinners great and small, and I appreciate that, since we are all sinners and deserve God's infinite forgiveness and grace.
I'll give Jak this though: "whom you ain't married to" is indeed the correct use of "whom." Good for him. And he's also right that my lover and I aren't married (though I suspect he'd prefer it that way). I'm glad she doesn't get to decide my fate, because occasionally if I have to wake her up, she might doom me to burnt toast for all eternity. I hate burnt toast.
Where it goes off the rails is, "Many analogies we might surmise 4 that proposition..." I mean, yes, those are indeed words in the English language, but I don't think any of them mean what Jak would like to think they mean, to coin a phrase badly. But we should be lenient with him since he was obviously taught English by a mute who could only communicate via text message from a phone where most of the keys didn't work.
And then we get to the best part: Jak believes that we're going to be microchipped by the Antichrist! I was afraid this would all be boring, but good ol' Alex Jones whackery slides in at the end to save the day! So Jak, thank you for your concern, and rest assured that I won't be taking "THE CHIP" in any location on my body, not because I'm afraid of the Antichrist, but because it's a gross invasion of privacy and sounds uncomfortable. Plus SkyNet. Always SkyNet. In fact, Jak, I'll let you have that one for free: don't bow to the Antichrist, reach for the SkyNet!
Lastly, I am never not going to spell it "whorizontal" from now on. So good, Jak. When I'm whorizontal getting railed by a giant cock (to whom I'm not married, possibly to whom I'm related by blood in direct violation of God's laws) I will make sure to think of you. While I'm moaning out my sinful lover's name from a whorizontal position on the bed of our lust, I'll spare you a thought and perhaps moan a few times for you. "Oh Jak, yes, I'm so whorizontal right now!"
So Jak, thank you for your continued attentions, and please do keep sending me these because I want to hear more about GodSpex and J-Prog and whether J-Prog owns a pair of GodSpex and... and... and everything! God, it makes me so whorizontal!
You may recall I got a strange comment in January which I attributed to Russian hackers trying to bring me to Jesus. Well, he's back, although less Russian this time (hell, I don't know if it's a "he" at all). Jak really wants to convert me, and he does so by repeating things his youth pastor wore on a t-shirt one time. It's so great.
This was a comment for The Band is Back Together for reasons only Jak can explain, but hasn't.
Only 2 positions for a light switch, earthling,
UP or DOWN:
the UP position is pointing skyward,
toward ExtremeSupersonicSeventh-Heaven,
which is e.VERY.thang we want
(and I mean everything),
which is what America SHOULD be doing,
puh-ray-zin God in dis Finite Existence;
while the DOWN position is pointing toward our demise,
to the whorizontal,
toward the Abyss o'Misery,
where you [pl] shall feeeel the palpable,
LivingDarkness 4 eternity.
Again, only 2 eternities, earthling
...and 1 of em aint too cool.
And YOU alone decide.
NOT Jesus.
NOT slimy, nasty ol satan.
NOT your friends.
NOT your co-workers.
NOT your lover whom you aint married to.
YOU alone.
Many analogies we might surmise 4 that proposition... yet,only 1 belief in the King of Hearts
who gives U.S. His Magnificent Light.
If that's too difficult 4u2c,
here's what I suggest:
I suggest you getta pair of GodSpexfrom the Divine Physician, mortal.
God bless your indelible soul.
Yes, earthling, I was an NDE:
DO - NOT - TAKE - the - CHIP!!!
(hand OR forhead)
If you do, say hello to being burnt toast, baby.
F O R E V E R.
Make Your Choice -SAW
So much to unpack here and I'm not going to get to it all because it's all so good.
First of all, I don't take my theology from movies about people cutting their own legs off (or whatever that torture-porn shit is), so I sure hope that SAW stands for something else. Except I'm pretty sure it doesn't, because isn't the whole thing in SAW that he has to choose to cut his own leg off? I haven't seen it. I'm not sure Jak has either. His youth pastor probably wouldn't approve. So let's give him the benefit of the doubt and assume that SAW stands for "Sisters Against War." And I'm for that. I'll choose to be against war any day.
This seems less like Russian propaganda this time, which is a shame. I was hoping to hear more about J-Prog's further adventures.
But to return to the beginning: I hate to break it to you Jak, but there's a thing called a 3-way switch. Is the third position Purgatory? If I don't flip the switch the right way, will I wind up with the unbaptized babies and Aristotle? I mean, Aristotle sounds fine (though I doubt he'd think much of me, being a woman and all) but billions of unbaptized babies screaming for all eternity? I'll take Abyss O'Misery, who was an Irish pub owner if I recall correctly. We could listen to ExtremeSupersonicSeventh-Heaven, which was a Red Hot Chili Peppers album from the '90s if memory serves.
I'm not sure why Jak felt the need to reassure me that "you" was "[pl]" which I assume means the collective you, or "y'all" in the vernacular, or "youse" as he put it before. I guess he wanted to make sure I knew that he wasn't just talking to me, but to all sinners great and small, and I appreciate that, since we are all sinners and deserve God's infinite forgiveness and grace.
I'll give Jak this though: "whom you ain't married to" is indeed the correct use of "whom." Good for him. And he's also right that my lover and I aren't married (though I suspect he'd prefer it that way). I'm glad she doesn't get to decide my fate, because occasionally if I have to wake her up, she might doom me to burnt toast for all eternity. I hate burnt toast.
Where it goes off the rails is, "Many analogies we might surmise 4 that proposition..." I mean, yes, those are indeed words in the English language, but I don't think any of them mean what Jak would like to think they mean, to coin a phrase badly. But we should be lenient with him since he was obviously taught English by a mute who could only communicate via text message from a phone where most of the keys didn't work.
And then we get to the best part: Jak believes that we're going to be microchipped by the Antichrist! I was afraid this would all be boring, but good ol' Alex Jones whackery slides in at the end to save the day! So Jak, thank you for your concern, and rest assured that I won't be taking "THE CHIP" in any location on my body, not because I'm afraid of the Antichrist, but because it's a gross invasion of privacy and sounds uncomfortable. Plus SkyNet. Always SkyNet. In fact, Jak, I'll let you have that one for free: don't bow to the Antichrist, reach for the SkyNet!
Lastly, I am never not going to spell it "whorizontal" from now on. So good, Jak. When I'm whorizontal getting railed by a giant cock (to whom I'm not married, possibly to whom I'm related by blood in direct violation of God's laws) I will make sure to think of you. While I'm moaning out my sinful lover's name from a whorizontal position on the bed of our lust, I'll spare you a thought and perhaps moan a few times for you. "Oh Jak, yes, I'm so whorizontal right now!"
So Jak, thank you for your continued attentions, and please do keep sending me these because I want to hear more about GodSpex and J-Prog and whether J-Prog owns a pair of GodSpex and... and... and everything! God, it makes me so whorizontal!
Tuesday, August 22, 2017
TMI Tuesday
From the archives:
1. What was one of the best parties you’ve attended?
Probably one in college, but they do tend to blur together in my decrepitude. Possibly that New Years Eve party with Sheri which is somewhere way back in the archives of the blog but I'm too lazy to find because God damn are there a lot of posts to go through.
2. What is your first memory of being really excited?
Honestly, anticipation of losing my virginity is one of my clearest memories from my childhood. That said, I have vaguer memories of being excited for Christmas earlier than that, so in fairness and not to put too much importance on memory, I'd probably have to say that I remember being excited for Christmas before I was excited for sex. But I remember being excited for sex much more clearly.
3. What was the first thing you bought with your own money?
Good Lord, I don't know. Probably candy or something. What is "my own money" anyway? The first thing I ever bought with money that I actually earned and wasn't given was probably food. I'm pretty sure I took my first paycheck and bought myself something at a restaurant or something like that. Pretty boring.
The first big-ticket purchase I ever made was a bass guitar, at least as far as I can remember. I had a guitar before, but I bought the bass myself. Before that, it was probably toys (not the sexy kind) or food.
4. What story does your family always tell about you?
When I was a child, a nice lady asked me where my pretty red hair came from. I told her, totally seriously, "The milk man." Little pitchers have big ears (a phrase I've never really understood, since pitchers don't have ears at all) and I'd heard it said as a joke because obviously I got my red hair from my parents; they both have varying degrees of red hair, and my siblings do as well. So it was said as a joke, a la "Redhead eh? Well she can't have gotten it from you; must be from the milk man."
It took me years to understand why it was funny, even though I knew all about sex. I thought they were saying that milk men somehow delivered red hair to children or something. It would have made more sense if it were the mail man, and since we didn't have a milk man I don't know where I even got the idea of what a milk man was. Once I realized the joke, I then understood why the nice woman looked slightly scandalized and my parents were slightly mortified. But we laugh about it now.
I don't know if that's the story my family always tells about me, but hey, it's a decent story and it's safe for public consumption, as opposed to the stories that my family could probably tell but don't.
5. At what age did you become an adult?
I don't think I ever became an adult. Though when I was younger I thought that losing one's virginity, coupled with getting one's period, made one a woman, that's bullshit. And that's still not "being an adult" just being a woman. As I grow older, I realize that sex and procreation don't make you a woman any more than having a vagina does. Shout out to all my trans sisters out there (and brothers too; don't let anyone say you're not a man either). Femininity isn't defined so easily.
But again, I don't think I've ever become an adult. I'm not saying I'm immature (I mean, I certainly can be) but I don't feel comfortable in my own skin as an adult. I feel like an imposter, like a girl wearing clothes too big for her and going to the office and lying her way through life. I used to think that adults were people who didn't feel like that, but I'm pretty sure most people feel like that, even when they're adults by any reasonable definition.
We define adulthood by ages, but that's kind of silly. If I had to give an age, I'd say you age into adulthood between 16 and 21 because you can legally do all the adult stuff at that point. But you can't be president, you can't rent UltraPorn (geek test), and there are probably other things you can't do even when you hit 21. But the law thinks of you as an adult at some point in those years, so I'll be boring and say that no matter how you feel about it, you might as well be an adult at that point. If you don't act like it, you still get treated as one when you fuck up.
Society used to have rituals. We still do, but we don't do vision quests, we take driving tests. That came out incredibly glibly, which wasn't my intent, but hey, I'll embrace the rhyme. See? I'm not a very good adult. I can't cope with life for shit and I make stupid juvenile jokes.
Bonus: Do you often subscribe to new comments/replies on blogs? Or do you manually go back to see if someone has responded to what you wrote?
I'm terrible: I don't read blogs. I rarely comment on other blogs. So I don't do either. There's barely enough time in the day to write shit like this, let alone read other people's generally-much-better stuff.
Well that was just a fat sack of crap. Garbage in, garbage out, I'm afraid. You can help with that by giving me questions that wouldn't be asked of Miss America. Email, Twitter, comment, sky-writing, whatever. I will answer them.
1. What was one of the best parties you’ve attended?
Probably one in college, but they do tend to blur together in my decrepitude. Possibly that New Years Eve party with Sheri which is somewhere way back in the archives of the blog but I'm too lazy to find because God damn are there a lot of posts to go through.
2. What is your first memory of being really excited?
Honestly, anticipation of losing my virginity is one of my clearest memories from my childhood. That said, I have vaguer memories of being excited for Christmas earlier than that, so in fairness and not to put too much importance on memory, I'd probably have to say that I remember being excited for Christmas before I was excited for sex. But I remember being excited for sex much more clearly.
3. What was the first thing you bought with your own money?
Good Lord, I don't know. Probably candy or something. What is "my own money" anyway? The first thing I ever bought with money that I actually earned and wasn't given was probably food. I'm pretty sure I took my first paycheck and bought myself something at a restaurant or something like that. Pretty boring.
The first big-ticket purchase I ever made was a bass guitar, at least as far as I can remember. I had a guitar before, but I bought the bass myself. Before that, it was probably toys (not the sexy kind) or food.
4. What story does your family always tell about you?
When I was a child, a nice lady asked me where my pretty red hair came from. I told her, totally seriously, "The milk man." Little pitchers have big ears (a phrase I've never really understood, since pitchers don't have ears at all) and I'd heard it said as a joke because obviously I got my red hair from my parents; they both have varying degrees of red hair, and my siblings do as well. So it was said as a joke, a la "Redhead eh? Well she can't have gotten it from you; must be from the milk man."
It took me years to understand why it was funny, even though I knew all about sex. I thought they were saying that milk men somehow delivered red hair to children or something. It would have made more sense if it were the mail man, and since we didn't have a milk man I don't know where I even got the idea of what a milk man was. Once I realized the joke, I then understood why the nice woman looked slightly scandalized and my parents were slightly mortified. But we laugh about it now.
I don't know if that's the story my family always tells about me, but hey, it's a decent story and it's safe for public consumption, as opposed to the stories that my family could probably tell but don't.
5. At what age did you become an adult?
I don't think I ever became an adult. Though when I was younger I thought that losing one's virginity, coupled with getting one's period, made one a woman, that's bullshit. And that's still not "being an adult" just being a woman. As I grow older, I realize that sex and procreation don't make you a woman any more than having a vagina does. Shout out to all my trans sisters out there (and brothers too; don't let anyone say you're not a man either). Femininity isn't defined so easily.
But again, I don't think I've ever become an adult. I'm not saying I'm immature (I mean, I certainly can be) but I don't feel comfortable in my own skin as an adult. I feel like an imposter, like a girl wearing clothes too big for her and going to the office and lying her way through life. I used to think that adults were people who didn't feel like that, but I'm pretty sure most people feel like that, even when they're adults by any reasonable definition.
We define adulthood by ages, but that's kind of silly. If I had to give an age, I'd say you age into adulthood between 16 and 21 because you can legally do all the adult stuff at that point. But you can't be president, you can't rent UltraPorn (geek test), and there are probably other things you can't do even when you hit 21. But the law thinks of you as an adult at some point in those years, so I'll be boring and say that no matter how you feel about it, you might as well be an adult at that point. If you don't act like it, you still get treated as one when you fuck up.
Society used to have rituals. We still do, but we don't do vision quests, we take driving tests. That came out incredibly glibly, which wasn't my intent, but hey, I'll embrace the rhyme. See? I'm not a very good adult. I can't cope with life for shit and I make stupid juvenile jokes.
Bonus: Do you often subscribe to new comments/replies on blogs? Or do you manually go back to see if someone has responded to what you wrote?
I'm terrible: I don't read blogs. I rarely comment on other blogs. So I don't do either. There's barely enough time in the day to write shit like this, let alone read other people's generally-much-better stuff.
Well that was just a fat sack of crap. Garbage in, garbage out, I'm afraid. You can help with that by giving me questions that wouldn't be asked of Miss America. Email, Twitter, comment, sky-writing, whatever. I will answer them.
Thursday, August 17, 2017
Summer Swims
In the waning days of summer, Sveta and I have found a bit of time to go to some pools to get some water time. She really loves the water, wishes we could go to the beach, but we can't afford it so a poor substitute is a swimming pool. And I used to be a fish in my youth. I was never a competition swimmer, but I passed all kinds of Red Cross certifications and probably could have been a life guard had I been a bit older and also less likely to die of skin cancer.
I've lost most of my skill, but I still love being underwater and feeling weightless. Sveta doesn't like to go under water, and I think she's missing the best part, but she enjoys it nonetheless. I don't have the breath control I once had (stop snickering in the back row, that has nothing to do with it) but I can still manage a respectable distance underwater. I've just lost some speed and stamina, to say nothing of not liking to get water in my ears or burning my eyes with chlorine.
But nothing sexy has come of our swimming trips. Still, they've made me remember a story I don't think I've told yet, so I will.
I was old enough to attract attention, if perhaps too young for that attention to be entirely appropriate. Among boys of my own age group, sure, that was fine, but I would sometimes see older men looking at me too, frolicking around in my bikini (I love bikinis), maybe not as good a swimmer as I had been as a child, but still perfectly at home in the water. A teen, not hard on the eye, and fully bloomed into sexuality, so it was natural that some gazes lingered. I'm not really excusing dirty old men, but I didn't mind and they were discreet in their ogling. I think my father would have been upset that his daughter was being eyebanged by fathers at the pool, but I was old enough to go on my own and I wasn't doing anything other than letting them look.
I remember I had my eye on a life guard. That was rare air; they were aloof and intimidating and probably in college (gasp, so old) but damn was he cute. I don't always go for the tanned hunk of man meat, and looking back with older eyes he wasn't exactly Baywatch, but he looked tasty. But like I said, rare air, and I may be brazen with my sexuality but I'm still quite shy, so I eyebanged him a little from a distance and let others do the same to me, and it all seemed frivolous and a bit pointless but fun.
But I was with friends (well, "friends," they were girls and guys my age and they tolerated my presence and didn't treat me like shit) and eventually one of them must have caught me looking and said, "You've got the hots for Hottie Life Guard!" like it was some big secret I couldn't stand anyone to know.
"He's kind of cute," I said, the way that teens admit a crush, bashful and full of insignificance. No big deal. I was just looking.
"Yeah he is. You should talk to him."
No, that I wasn't interested in doing. Come on, I was here to swim, take in the sights. But she wouldn't let up, brought another girl into it, and pretty soon it was all I was getting from them. My inclination was to ignore and hope it would go away, but it didn't, and finally I said, "Okay, fine, I will." Which shut them up. I think they were as in awe of him as I was.
So I went up to the life guard stand and said, "Hey, want me to get you a drink?" I couldn't think of anything else. I mean, I could, but I knew that it wasn't a perfect world and, "Hey, you're cute, want to fuck my brains out?" would not play well.
He probably heard the line from all the girls. "No thanks, I'm good." He wasn't even looking at me. I know now (and pretty much knew then) that he wasn't allowed to take his eyes off the pool, but it still seemed dismissive.
Shit. "Let me know if you do." Brilliant gambit, Lexi. I swear, this was decades ago and I'm still kicking myself for it as I remember it.
"Okay." He grinned. "Okay, fine, I'll take a Coke. Just don't make a big deal out of it. I don't want to get in trouble." And he glanced at me, just a glance, like he was verifying me.
Can of Coke in hand, I sidled up to the chair again. I'm pretty sure I said something very stupid when I gave it to him, but that memory has been blessedly cleansed. I do remember he asked me my name so he could thank me properly. Which I used to get his name, which was, if I recall, something like Brett. Brett will work. Never took his eyes off the pool except to steal a few glances at me. Knowing me, I think he was pleased by what he saw, but then he probably saw a million other girls wearing bikinis, so it wasn't exactly novel.
"I'll see you," I said, by way of something else to say.
"I go on break at 3. I'll pay you back then."
Shit. Well, my gift was being spurned. His money was in his pants or something. Ah well, nothing ventured, nothing gained. I dove back into the pool. Tried to ignore the other girls' questions. Did I get his number? What did he say? I had struck out. I mean, these girls weren't exactly privvy to how much I had struck out; to them, I was a failure at chatting with a cute guy way out of my league, whereas I was actually a failure at getting a cute guy way out of my league to round some bases with me. These girls may not have been virgins, but they weren't looking for action. If any of them had been in my shoes, they would have taken the whole thing less seriously. But really, how seriously could I take it?
At 3, Brett went on break and I figured that was the last I'd see of him, but he just went to a shady spot and sat down, then looked over at me and smiled. Okay. Maybe he wanted me to collect my blood money for the Coke. By that point, my trivial failure to launch had been forgotten and I think the girls were more interested in some fairly-innocent horseplay with the guys with us. I'm sure the allure of skin to skin contact while roughhousing was all they needed to forget me, and if I didn't join in, more for them. I'm pretty sure there were some couples there, but it was a free-for-all of accidental boob brushes and giggling, so minor alliances were forgotten in the fracas.
I went over to Brett and, when he didn't seem to mind, sat down next to him, not so close as to presume, but not across from him.
"So I bet you offer Coke to all the life guards," he said, grinning. That was his opening line. I remember that. But while I don't remember much of the rest of the conversation, I do remember that his eyes, no longer obsessively watching swimmers, were enjoying me. And enjoying that I wasn't getting shy. I let him look.
The upshot was that I slid a little closer and he put his hand on my leg and things became a lot more chummy. To the point that, when I said he could pay me back for the Coke any way he liked, he said, "Okay, I know a place."
I got the feeling that I wasn't the first conquest Brett had made at the pool. He led me to a room filled with pool supplies and told me no one ever came in unless they were doing what we were doing. He was coy about whether he'd ever done this before, but he said life guards sometimes hooked up and if he locked the door, anyone else would know what was happening. I don't know that he knew what he was getting. Probably expected a nice grope, maybe some oral.
My breasts have never been big enough to really pull off the "pull down the top of the cup and the breast spills out" thing, so he pushed it up instead. He liked them, even if they weren't enormous. But when I said, rather heatedly, "You want to fuck me?" his eyes got a little wider.
"You want to?"
"God yes."
That was fine with him, if perhaps unexpected. I pulled his trunks down, his cock rising a little but not yet fully hard, and then I got on my knees and sucked it to life. He wasn't inexperienced, so probably he had used this room before. He held my hair but didn't force anything, and he didn't need to, because by that point I was an expert cocksucker.
"How long do you have?" I asked when I came up for air.
"A while. Why?"
"Are you ready?"
"Hell yes."
We were about the same height, so no towering Adonis he, though life guards always seem more imposing than they really are. He didn't have to struggle to position himself, and I bent a little at the waist and supported myself on a pile of life jackets, and he just pulled my bottoms to one side, admired my pussy for a moment, and then rubbed the head of his cock over my pubis a few times before sliding into me.
He wasn't gentle. I was a little less ready than I should have been, and he loved how tight it made me, but I got into it after a few moments and let him really take the wheel. And then almost as soon as I was getting into it, he was pulling out. "Shit, you were amazing," he said. "I can't hold off. Do you swallow?"
Had I been older and more sure of myself I would have told him to get back in there and make me cum, but I just nodded and knelt and let him spew a weak load onto my tongue and lips, then swallowed and smiled. My pussy was vibrating, wanting more, and I was a little weak at the knees from being railed while standing up, knees locked.
"Thanks," he said. Thanks. Services rendered. Kind of a dick. I figured that was it.
"Do you have more time?" I could help asking.
"Yeah, plenty. You want more?"
"Always."
"Damn girl. What do you want?"
"I want more of your cock. Want me to suck it again?"
"No, not right away. I can finger you if you want, until I can get hard again."
So I consented to being pawed. Not good. He wouldn't have known where to find the clitoris if I'd drawn a map, and he basically just pushed his finger in and moved it around. But he sucked my nipples nicely, and we kissed some, and if I wasn't getting closer to cumming at least his finger was there and keeping me excited. He made no move to offer mutual oral, and I didn't demand it because I was young and stupid and also if he was this bad with his finger, I bet he'd never gone down on a woman before.
Eventually he said, "Okay, you can suck me now," like I had been dying for it (okay, so I was dying to suck him so he'd get hard and I'd get it inside me again). The floor was clear enough for him to lie back against a life jacket, and I put his trunks under his ass and sucked him hard again. He was enjoying himself immensely. I won't attempt false humility: I was probably the best head he'd ever gotten.
Once he was hard again, I straddled him and sank down on his shaft, which wasn't a giant but was good enough. Decent length, decent girth, and it felt very nice inside me. And I rocked, his hands on my breasts and then down my sides to my hips, hooking his fingers under the back of my bikini bottoms and gripping my ass. I remember that. I liked that, it felt exciting. I've always liked fucking in underwear.
Grinding down on him, getting an eyeful of his tanned gorgeousness, was enough to make me cum after a bit, and he loved feeling me cum on him. But then he said, "I need to go a bit quicker. Can we switch positions?" So I wound up on all fours, my knees and palms hurting a little because of the concrete floor, and he fucked away behind me.
"You don't have to pull out. I'm on the pill and I love cum inside me." I couldn't see his face, but I think he must have thought he'd won the jackpot.
"Okay, coming up," he said, or grunted, and fucked harder, his hands gripping the back seam of my bottoms, pulling it up a little. It pressed the front against my clit and was winding me up again, but I didn't make it before he gasped, "Fuck, I'm going to cum in your pussy!"
The orgasm wasn't even as intense as the first one. I basically felt his cock tense and relax a few times. Didn't feel the cream inside. He pulled back and I moved my hand up, even though my knees were screaming at this point, and rubbed my clit, hard, until I got off too. He was wide-eyed at that, when I rolled over and adjusted myself, pulling my top back down and my bottoms back over my pussy. "Damn girl, you're insane," he said, or something similar.
Three was out of the question. I knew before I asked, so I didn't. He wasn't in a rush, offered to finger me some more if I wanted, but I politely declined. "My friends will be wondering where I am," I said, with a degree of truth.
"Well, that was great." And he pulled on his trunks and left in the opposite direction of the pool. To a life guard locker room, maybe. I didn't really care. I went back to the pool, and my "friends" hadn't really even noticed I was gone. I learned later that a boy and girl had sneaked off on their own and gotten to third base or something, and that was all anyone was talking about. My life guard crush was forgotten, and no one even mentioned it. And Brett came back to his station, looking like nothing had happened, and took up watch on the pool again. He looked at me a few times and smiled, but we didn't speak.
Of course, I went home and fucked someone's brains out that evening because it had been exciting but hardly a great lay. And if I ever saw Brett again at the pool, we never fucked again. I wasn't particularly sorry. Decent story, but at the time, somewhat underwhelming.
I've lost most of my skill, but I still love being underwater and feeling weightless. Sveta doesn't like to go under water, and I think she's missing the best part, but she enjoys it nonetheless. I don't have the breath control I once had (stop snickering in the back row, that has nothing to do with it) but I can still manage a respectable distance underwater. I've just lost some speed and stamina, to say nothing of not liking to get water in my ears or burning my eyes with chlorine.
But nothing sexy has come of our swimming trips. Still, they've made me remember a story I don't think I've told yet, so I will.
I was old enough to attract attention, if perhaps too young for that attention to be entirely appropriate. Among boys of my own age group, sure, that was fine, but I would sometimes see older men looking at me too, frolicking around in my bikini (I love bikinis), maybe not as good a swimmer as I had been as a child, but still perfectly at home in the water. A teen, not hard on the eye, and fully bloomed into sexuality, so it was natural that some gazes lingered. I'm not really excusing dirty old men, but I didn't mind and they were discreet in their ogling. I think my father would have been upset that his daughter was being eyebanged by fathers at the pool, but I was old enough to go on my own and I wasn't doing anything other than letting them look.
I remember I had my eye on a life guard. That was rare air; they were aloof and intimidating and probably in college (gasp, so old) but damn was he cute. I don't always go for the tanned hunk of man meat, and looking back with older eyes he wasn't exactly Baywatch, but he looked tasty. But like I said, rare air, and I may be brazen with my sexuality but I'm still quite shy, so I eyebanged him a little from a distance and let others do the same to me, and it all seemed frivolous and a bit pointless but fun.
But I was with friends (well, "friends," they were girls and guys my age and they tolerated my presence and didn't treat me like shit) and eventually one of them must have caught me looking and said, "You've got the hots for Hottie Life Guard!" like it was some big secret I couldn't stand anyone to know.
"He's kind of cute," I said, the way that teens admit a crush, bashful and full of insignificance. No big deal. I was just looking.
"Yeah he is. You should talk to him."
No, that I wasn't interested in doing. Come on, I was here to swim, take in the sights. But she wouldn't let up, brought another girl into it, and pretty soon it was all I was getting from them. My inclination was to ignore and hope it would go away, but it didn't, and finally I said, "Okay, fine, I will." Which shut them up. I think they were as in awe of him as I was.
So I went up to the life guard stand and said, "Hey, want me to get you a drink?" I couldn't think of anything else. I mean, I could, but I knew that it wasn't a perfect world and, "Hey, you're cute, want to fuck my brains out?" would not play well.
He probably heard the line from all the girls. "No thanks, I'm good." He wasn't even looking at me. I know now (and pretty much knew then) that he wasn't allowed to take his eyes off the pool, but it still seemed dismissive.
Shit. "Let me know if you do." Brilliant gambit, Lexi. I swear, this was decades ago and I'm still kicking myself for it as I remember it.
"Okay." He grinned. "Okay, fine, I'll take a Coke. Just don't make a big deal out of it. I don't want to get in trouble." And he glanced at me, just a glance, like he was verifying me.
Can of Coke in hand, I sidled up to the chair again. I'm pretty sure I said something very stupid when I gave it to him, but that memory has been blessedly cleansed. I do remember he asked me my name so he could thank me properly. Which I used to get his name, which was, if I recall, something like Brett. Brett will work. Never took his eyes off the pool except to steal a few glances at me. Knowing me, I think he was pleased by what he saw, but then he probably saw a million other girls wearing bikinis, so it wasn't exactly novel.
"I'll see you," I said, by way of something else to say.
"I go on break at 3. I'll pay you back then."
Shit. Well, my gift was being spurned. His money was in his pants or something. Ah well, nothing ventured, nothing gained. I dove back into the pool. Tried to ignore the other girls' questions. Did I get his number? What did he say? I had struck out. I mean, these girls weren't exactly privvy to how much I had struck out; to them, I was a failure at chatting with a cute guy way out of my league, whereas I was actually a failure at getting a cute guy way out of my league to round some bases with me. These girls may not have been virgins, but they weren't looking for action. If any of them had been in my shoes, they would have taken the whole thing less seriously. But really, how seriously could I take it?
At 3, Brett went on break and I figured that was the last I'd see of him, but he just went to a shady spot and sat down, then looked over at me and smiled. Okay. Maybe he wanted me to collect my blood money for the Coke. By that point, my trivial failure to launch had been forgotten and I think the girls were more interested in some fairly-innocent horseplay with the guys with us. I'm sure the allure of skin to skin contact while roughhousing was all they needed to forget me, and if I didn't join in, more for them. I'm pretty sure there were some couples there, but it was a free-for-all of accidental boob brushes and giggling, so minor alliances were forgotten in the fracas.
I went over to Brett and, when he didn't seem to mind, sat down next to him, not so close as to presume, but not across from him.
"So I bet you offer Coke to all the life guards," he said, grinning. That was his opening line. I remember that. But while I don't remember much of the rest of the conversation, I do remember that his eyes, no longer obsessively watching swimmers, were enjoying me. And enjoying that I wasn't getting shy. I let him look.
The upshot was that I slid a little closer and he put his hand on my leg and things became a lot more chummy. To the point that, when I said he could pay me back for the Coke any way he liked, he said, "Okay, I know a place."
I got the feeling that I wasn't the first conquest Brett had made at the pool. He led me to a room filled with pool supplies and told me no one ever came in unless they were doing what we were doing. He was coy about whether he'd ever done this before, but he said life guards sometimes hooked up and if he locked the door, anyone else would know what was happening. I don't know that he knew what he was getting. Probably expected a nice grope, maybe some oral.
My breasts have never been big enough to really pull off the "pull down the top of the cup and the breast spills out" thing, so he pushed it up instead. He liked them, even if they weren't enormous. But when I said, rather heatedly, "You want to fuck me?" his eyes got a little wider.
"You want to?"
"God yes."
That was fine with him, if perhaps unexpected. I pulled his trunks down, his cock rising a little but not yet fully hard, and then I got on my knees and sucked it to life. He wasn't inexperienced, so probably he had used this room before. He held my hair but didn't force anything, and he didn't need to, because by that point I was an expert cocksucker.
"How long do you have?" I asked when I came up for air.
"A while. Why?"
"Are you ready?"
"Hell yes."
We were about the same height, so no towering Adonis he, though life guards always seem more imposing than they really are. He didn't have to struggle to position himself, and I bent a little at the waist and supported myself on a pile of life jackets, and he just pulled my bottoms to one side, admired my pussy for a moment, and then rubbed the head of his cock over my pubis a few times before sliding into me.
He wasn't gentle. I was a little less ready than I should have been, and he loved how tight it made me, but I got into it after a few moments and let him really take the wheel. And then almost as soon as I was getting into it, he was pulling out. "Shit, you were amazing," he said. "I can't hold off. Do you swallow?"
Had I been older and more sure of myself I would have told him to get back in there and make me cum, but I just nodded and knelt and let him spew a weak load onto my tongue and lips, then swallowed and smiled. My pussy was vibrating, wanting more, and I was a little weak at the knees from being railed while standing up, knees locked.
"Thanks," he said. Thanks. Services rendered. Kind of a dick. I figured that was it.
"Do you have more time?" I could help asking.
"Yeah, plenty. You want more?"
"Always."
"Damn girl. What do you want?"
"I want more of your cock. Want me to suck it again?"
"No, not right away. I can finger you if you want, until I can get hard again."
So I consented to being pawed. Not good. He wouldn't have known where to find the clitoris if I'd drawn a map, and he basically just pushed his finger in and moved it around. But he sucked my nipples nicely, and we kissed some, and if I wasn't getting closer to cumming at least his finger was there and keeping me excited. He made no move to offer mutual oral, and I didn't demand it because I was young and stupid and also if he was this bad with his finger, I bet he'd never gone down on a woman before.
Eventually he said, "Okay, you can suck me now," like I had been dying for it (okay, so I was dying to suck him so he'd get hard and I'd get it inside me again). The floor was clear enough for him to lie back against a life jacket, and I put his trunks under his ass and sucked him hard again. He was enjoying himself immensely. I won't attempt false humility: I was probably the best head he'd ever gotten.
Once he was hard again, I straddled him and sank down on his shaft, which wasn't a giant but was good enough. Decent length, decent girth, and it felt very nice inside me. And I rocked, his hands on my breasts and then down my sides to my hips, hooking his fingers under the back of my bikini bottoms and gripping my ass. I remember that. I liked that, it felt exciting. I've always liked fucking in underwear.
Grinding down on him, getting an eyeful of his tanned gorgeousness, was enough to make me cum after a bit, and he loved feeling me cum on him. But then he said, "I need to go a bit quicker. Can we switch positions?" So I wound up on all fours, my knees and palms hurting a little because of the concrete floor, and he fucked away behind me.
"You don't have to pull out. I'm on the pill and I love cum inside me." I couldn't see his face, but I think he must have thought he'd won the jackpot.
"Okay, coming up," he said, or grunted, and fucked harder, his hands gripping the back seam of my bottoms, pulling it up a little. It pressed the front against my clit and was winding me up again, but I didn't make it before he gasped, "Fuck, I'm going to cum in your pussy!"
The orgasm wasn't even as intense as the first one. I basically felt his cock tense and relax a few times. Didn't feel the cream inside. He pulled back and I moved my hand up, even though my knees were screaming at this point, and rubbed my clit, hard, until I got off too. He was wide-eyed at that, when I rolled over and adjusted myself, pulling my top back down and my bottoms back over my pussy. "Damn girl, you're insane," he said, or something similar.
Three was out of the question. I knew before I asked, so I didn't. He wasn't in a rush, offered to finger me some more if I wanted, but I politely declined. "My friends will be wondering where I am," I said, with a degree of truth.
"Well, that was great." And he pulled on his trunks and left in the opposite direction of the pool. To a life guard locker room, maybe. I didn't really care. I went back to the pool, and my "friends" hadn't really even noticed I was gone. I learned later that a boy and girl had sneaked off on their own and gotten to third base or something, and that was all anyone was talking about. My life guard crush was forgotten, and no one even mentioned it. And Brett came back to his station, looking like nothing had happened, and took up watch on the pool again. He looked at me a few times and smiled, but we didn't speak.
Of course, I went home and fucked someone's brains out that evening because it had been exciting but hardly a great lay. And if I ever saw Brett again at the pool, we never fucked again. I wasn't particularly sorry. Decent story, but at the time, somewhat underwhelming.
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