Holiday Festivities

Hell, I'm only a month late. What's the world coming to?

So Christmas. Zoe had family entanglements for the actual holiday, which meant that, in a Christmas gift she didn't know she was getting us, Sveta and I got to go to my parents' house for Christmas. My brother was already there, which meant he'd gotten the formalities over with and could concentrate on pleasing Sveta, because she hadn't had a cock in ages. Not that my dad wasn't interested in pleasing Sveta too. But Sveta told him that he was to give his daughter a creampie or she would be very disappointed.

This was all arranged in advance, but when we got there Mike was fucking Mom. Because of course he was. He apologized but said that she'd needed one and Dad was saving it up for his girls. Mom was too busy cumming to apologize too, though she did afterward. We told them that was silly and that was that. As it was, Dad was sitting back and enjoying the view, so we got to help him enjoy it a little with some well-placed hands and lips.

Once Dad got hard enough to go, he cheated on me with Sveta for a while, just to warm up. Dad has the stamina of an ox, even now, and sometimes it's all we can do to get him to cum, so starting off in Sveta and then moving to me seemed like the best way to get Lexi her cream. Mike let me clean off his cock, so I got to taste Mom's pussy vicariously at least.

Then Sveta, having cum (cummed?) nicely thank you, hopped off and I bent over and let Dad have his way with my pussy while she sucked his cock a little. I was cumming when Dad thrust in the first time, which made me gasp and made my orgasm skip a beat, a sensation I always enjoy even if it is hard to achieve. Then he railed me for what felt like half an hour and may have been. I came a bunch of times. He finally flipped me over so we could be face to face while he pumped his cream into me. Delightful.

When I regained situational awareness Mike was eating out Sveta while Mom had decamped to the kitchen to get dinner prepped. I joined her, we chatted, Dad joined us, we all chatted, then dinner was ready and Sveta and Mike had reached a decent stopping point, so we all ate dinner. Then gifts. Nothing particularly of interest to the readers of this blog.

Then we had to go home so Mike sexed his big sister up good and proper, quickly and forcefully in my ass and then into my pussy to finish, which I let him do because he's the baby and he'd bitch and moan if I made him stop to clean off. I don't usually do ass-to-pussy as a rule but I break that rule all the time. Do as I say, kids, not as I do.

We went home and hosed off so when Zoe returned we wouldn't smell like a whorehouse after shore leave. Sveta basically showered and immediately passed out. I prowled around for a while and then did the same.

But wait, there's more. Part II will involve New Years Eve. But I so rarely post anymore that I'm breaking it up a little so you've got something to look forward to.

Oh, P.S. Sheri and Mari both called, we talked, everything is fine with them, they just couldn't get away for a visit this year.

Flash Fiction Friday Cross-Post

Does anyone need this reminder? I figure if you care to read my fiction, you're probably already subscribed to the sister-blog, and this feels like a cheating post to me. Like I said, I'm open to suggestions on how to improve these little reminders, but I'm beginning to think that the only way to improve them is to eliminate them.

Head over to the sister-blog for my submission this week, head to Max's blog for the others.

Everyone gone?

 

Anyone still here?

 

Go on. Head over there.

 

Nothing to see here.

Okay, you're stubborn, I'll give you that.

And now, the moment you've all probably been waiting for.

I can't do this every week. But this week I felt like it. And there haven't been many stories recently, so I owe you I guess.

Flash Fiction Friday Cross-Post

It's up. Do what you must. Go to Max's for others or to throw your who am I kidding you're not even reading this.

Okay, fine, now you can go to the sister-site and it'll be true. Then head to Max's for the others or, and this isn't a big ask, to write one of your own because I showed you my tits on spec.

You're not reading this either, are you? You're still looking at my fucking tits. My eyes are up here you know. I knew this was a mistake.

Bonus points if you visited the sister-blog before I posted this and you get the joke. The tits are definitely for you if so.

Speaking of Anal

We were speaking of anal, right? Of course we were. It's me.

Anyway, I've been going through some old files and stuff and I've found some pictures from who knows when, and I figured why not share one with my faithful reading public? I'm pretty sure it's my brother and I, but beyond that I have no context. No fun story to share, just a little eye candy for you.

Plugged In At Work

The other day, I decided that my life wasn't exciting enough, so I pulled out a medium buttplug, popped it in, and went to work with it in me. I was not expecting, nor did I receive, any fun and games at work, so it was just a constant reminder of how much fun inserting things into my anus really is. I thought you'd like to see a visual representation of what it was like, so I had Sveta take a picture of me wearing panties over a plug, just so you'd have that in mind as you were thinking of me going to work like that. Because I've posted over a thousand posts, and we're still celebrating, plus I've realized that I'm coming up on 15 years on Blogger (God I'm old), I'm going to share that picture with you.

Unfortunately, I hate to break it to you but this is not in fact the outfit, nor is it the plug, with which I went to work. The plug was one of those silly jewel ones, and the outfit was much more black because I don't typically wear panties like this to work. But when I got home I'd gotten so used to the smaller plug I wore all day that I really wanted some time with his bigger brother, and then I thought to myself, "Self, why not take a picture for the nice people who read my blog?" So I did, just not of what I'd really intended to take a picture of. Sometimes things work out like that.

Sveta suggested that I describe, for those of you who may not have had the pleasure, the sensation of insertion, and while they should have sent a poet (how I'd fit a poet up my ass I don't know), I'll give it the old college try.

First off, lube is essential. Even I, an old hand at this sort of thing, require some sort of lube. Getting a cock up my ass dry is doable sometimes, but silicone? Lube is a must.

The first thing I feel is the tip of the plug pressing against the ring of muscles surrounding the main attraction. If there's enough lube, that's shortly followed by the flare of the plug spreading that ring. Being spread is, at least for me, easy enough, at least in the toys I use. It's a nice feeling, like a massage of the ring. I think the main reason I don't like rimjobs as much is because I need a deep tissue massage that a tongue just can't get me, but your mileage almost certainly will vary.

Then, if I'm using the right size, the spreading becomes almost too much. What that is varies, but I like to strike a balance between too big and painful and too small to feel. The spread is where it's at, as far as feeling the insertion goes. Depth doesn't get me as much as width to start with. Then, just as I'm hitting the point where I'm wondering if maybe I'm going to spread too much for comfort, pop, the ring slides over the bottom of the flare and the plug seats itself inside me.

And that's when the depth starts to matter. I'm not a depth queen by any stretch. I don't want a baseball bat shoved up there. But I like to feel just a little bit spread, full, and to feel the tip of the toy pressing into me deeper. I'm not sure exactly how to describe that. It's like being pleasurably constipated, which doesn't sound like fun but trust me it really is.

I can sit with a plug up my ass without much difficulty, if it's the right size. I'm not especially gifted in the badonk area, but I have enough meat to keep things from pushing deeper if I don't want them to. And unlike, say, a vibe in my pussy, a buttplug isn't threatening to get me off at any moment, at least the ones I typically wear out and about. It's just a nice pressure when I sit on it, and if I tense up a little I can feel it resist inside me.

Anyway, I didn't cum once at work, which I think was half restraint on my part and half that I actually had to pay attention to things for once.

Do you have any fun anal toys? Any anal toy questions? Hell, any anal questions at all? Drop me a line and tell me about them, or ask them, or whatever.

Oh, and kids, remember to buy toys that are dishwasher safe because there's nothing sadder than having to hand-wash your toys.

1000

Holy shit, one thousand posts. About 500 ones worth reading, probably. About 250 that are really sexy and not just mildly. About 100 that people have seen enough times to make me feel like I might have done something good with this blog after all these years.

I don't really know what to do for a thousand posts. All my other milestones have been pictorial, but that doesn't seem like it's good enough for the big 1K. So I'm going to share a little picture, but also I'm going to say that we'll be celebrating 1000 posts for a bit, and if you've got any suggestions, please let me know in the comments or by email.

Without further ado, here's to 1000 in the can and in the snatch!

Updates

What have I been up to, you may ask.

1) Sveta and I got married. Mostly for tax purposes, we like to say, and I'd be lying if that wasn't part of the calculus. Another part was that if either of us had to go to the hospital (which it turned out was prescient, about which more further down the page) it would be good to be married for the purposes of sorting through that kind of bullshit. And there was definitely an element of, "If we don't do it now, we may not be allowed to do it in future," which as yet has not turned out to be as prescient, but please don't relax on the LGBTQI-rights front.

It didn't really change our relationship, and we didn't want it to, but it was nice. I love her, she loves me, we're married, and it's still strange to say, "my wife," in conversation. Partially because I didn't think it would ever happen, partially because I figured I'd have to get straight-married. Lesbian-married is better because we both got to wear dresses.

The ceremony was nothing exciting. We had a wedding party afterward which didn't immediately degenerate into debauchery because the in-laws were there. Sveta's father was surprisingly supportive. Sveta's mother-in-law looked like she could spit nails. But anyway, the party was nice, just friends and well-wishes, and then some of us had gotten hotel rooms in the same hotel so we did wind up having a bit of a fun time for our wedding night. It's been long enough that I don't know that I can play-by-play it even if I wanted to, but Sveta finally got to fuck the members of the family she'd been missing on her card and when we finished with Sheri, Mari (yes, she came, and yes, she came), and Mike, there was a whole other party with some of our friends who showed us a very nice time as well.

2) My parents are okay. Mike and my sisters are okay. There have been some health things, but nothing major. Mari finally tied the knot with her long-time partner, though there was no corresponding wingding for that. I'm still not sure how much her partner knows about her family. She was very nice at the wedding but didn't show up for any of the more sexual festivities. It's Mari's life. I'm not judging. Much.

3) I had to have my lady parts removed. Well, a lot of them. The pain just got to be too much, and finally I found a doctor who would listen and not think I was making it up, and it turned out that yeah, the uterus and one of the ovaries needed to go. The operation went smoothly, the recovery went smoothly, and aside from some lingering psychological stuff which made me somewhat wary at first, I have been having pain-free orgasms in the quantities to which I used to be accustomed ever since. Of course...

4) Then COVID hit, so until I got my vaccination, Sveta and I were stuck with just each other as partners, which didn't put much strain on the relationship but did make me wish like hell I knew a magic spell to give one or both of us a cock temporarily. We had to stop seeing everyone. Even Zoe, who...

5) Zoe is still a thing in our lives. She has a girlfriend now, but we see her often enough, now that we're all vaccinated. I think she was a little crushed that I married Sveta, but she came to the wedding (this was prior to her getting a girlfriend) and participated in the after-after-party, wherein she got fucked seventeen ways to Sunday by a bunch of hot lesbians, which I think got her over her infatuation with me. Or maybe not, but she hasn't shown any signs of pining over me that I've seen. It's complicated. I wish it weren't.

6) Kate, Liam, and Kevin are also continuing to be seen by us. Let me try that sentence again. We see Kate, Liam, and Kevin as often as we all can spare the time. Kevin came out a few Prides ago, we were all super proud of him, and both he and his brother have found partners outside the home, though it doesn't seem to last. They're young. I won't start worrying just yet.

7) Anything else I'm forgetting? Pop a question in the comments, or email, or write it in fiery letters across the sky above my house.

Throwback

Clearing out old photos and came upon this one from God knows when, probably college. I wish my tits were actually as full as this pic makes them look. I don't remember this at all, so it doesn't stir up any unpleasantness in my loins, but that's me blowing that guy and there's definitely another guy in line and a third holding my ass suggesting something... okay, stirring a bit now, take it as you like it.

Happier Times

Because I Couldn't Leave it There

As a thank you for listening to me ramble in the last post, or because I was keyed into blowjobs, accept the following pictures from my family album.

Here's one. The quality isn't great because it's old and scanned rather than digital. Normally I'm not a huge fan of being held by the head or hair while I give a guy a blowjob; it restricts my movement and puts him in control when part of the enjoyment for me is the control. But in this case, there was a good reason; my hair was in the way of the shot. Yes, it's posed rather than candid, but it was candid after the pictures were taken. My family has taken some "porno" pictures as well as just candid snapshots; sometimes Mike, Sheri, and I liked to do "porno" shoots when we were younger.

Here's another more recent offering. Mike's handiwork, I believe. Both the picture and the cum on my curled tongue. I wanted him to have a memento of a visit. He still has the original.

Five

Five years ago on this day I started this blog with this post. Go back and read it if you'd like, relive the memories (not that I imagine there were many people who actually read it the first day it was up), whatever.

Now, five years later, it's a bit different. I'm not 20-something (gasp). I have fewer stories to tell, and I get off less on telling them than I used to because I've run out of the exciting ones and most of the ones that remain are more banal, at least to my mind. I have less time and energy.

I'm not stopping. But I'm reevaluating. And I'm having to slow down a bit because, let's face it, blogs are no substitute for real life.

A lot of very nice people (well, a lot relatively speaking anyway) have said that they don't care, that they want me to continue as I have been, even if I'm not constantly telling exciting stories. They like the blog, and that touches me. Several have gone so far as to say that they wish I would branch out into more fiction, the way some of my fellow bloggers do. Hell, a few have even said they'd read something I wrote even if it weren't erotic at all.

Basically, I love each and every one of you, and I hope you'll bear with me as I try to sort things out a bit. And if things change in a way you don't like, I hope you won't hate me for doing what I have to do. I'm not saying that it's not my blog to do with what I please, but it pleases me to please you in some way. Without you, I wouldn't be blogging, I'd be masturbating. And that's not as interesting.

Flash Fiction Friday is wonderful, and I wish I had the ability to do it every week. Lately, things have conspired to stop me. I could see doing fiction, but it would be a different blog then, and I'm not sure I shouldn't just start a different blog if that's what I'm planning on doing. There are also concerns of paranoia; every day this blog is up is a day that I worry, just a little, that it will hurt someone I love. In hindsight, I'm not sure it was a good idea to start blogging as I did; I should have been more circumspect. And now I'm faced with the choice: do I continue as I have and worry more and more, or do I stop and disappoint people?

I'm thinking about things. That's where I am. I wrote this in advance, just in case I wasn't able to make it online on the actual anniversary, so rest assured that I'm thinking about things.

To keep this from being overly depressing, here's an old snapshot I dug out of the box. I'm not sure when or where it was taken, but it was a happy time. I'm in there somewhere. I'll leave it to you to figure out where; it shouldn't be difficult. Simpler times, simpler pleasures. It's perhaps more graphic than usual, but I'm tired of teasing, I guess.

Cheeky Minx

Sveta must be feeling bad for not having internet I can use, because she's inflicting all sorts of tortures on me in order to bring you the very latest in pictures of me in unguarded moments. So, just for you:

Okay, so it's been warm, and maybe I was being a bit revealing, but still, to pounce on me with camera blazing and shoot up my skirt? That's not fair at all.

Shutterbug

Sveta keeps making me post these. Blame her.

That's me, in what I thought was a private moment until Sveta whipped out her camera and snapped me before I could dive for cover. Minx.

Long Time No See

Sveta's been quite the shutter bug. I'm not such a camera fanatic, but she prevailed upon me to take pictures, and several of them have been of the sexy variety, so in lieu of anything else worth seeing on this blog, here's one of them.

It's been a while, hasn't it? Still, here I am. I think my ass is getting a bit flabby, actually. But then I'm seldom happy with pictures of me.

Sveta's Panties

Remember this post from almost two years ago? Well Sveta does. She had the following pic somehow; I don't remember it being taken, but clearly it was. And since she's just the gift that keeps on giving, she told me to share. I couldn't say no. I mean, I really, really wanted to, but I couldn't. My arm was twisted.

Submitted for your approval, a picture proving that I at least have the panties I was talking about. Sveta thinks hers are somewhere, but we're not going digging through her stuff just to pack it all up again. I hate packing. Anyway, peruse at your pleasure (and unlike some of my pictures, I believe you may actually be able to click to see it larger).

Panties in a Bunch

I needed some new general-wear panties. Attrition and loss and possibly theft (sometimes it seems like someone must be stealing them, otherwise where the hell are they going) had depleted my stocks. I'm not talking about the exciting ones, or even ones I might actually go shopping for; I'm talking the panties I wear to work, the daily-rotation panties, the ones I buy in bulk from the big box store. Maybe not bulk, but you get the idea.

So I went to the store to pick up some, and they didn't have the brand I like. Big deal, thought I naively, I'll just buy the brand they have.

Wrong. Either I've lost weight (and I don't think that's true) or the sizes are different, because the panties I wound up with are baggy. And in bikini cut, that's not something to take lightly. But I'm poor, and no one is supposed to see these (people sometimes see them, but that's not according to plan) so I soldiered through and waited for the time when I'd find the brand I liked again.

It took me too long, but finally I found them, or so I thought. So I bought two bags, plenty enough, at a price that I find more and more ridiculous as I get poorer. Seriously, underwear cost too damn much. Topic for another time, or indeed another blog that I don't have. Anyway, I bought them and tossed them in the laundry, and a few days ago had cause to do a load and so wound up with fresh new panties.

Except these panties are no good at all. I thought they were the same things; they came in the same label, in the same number, by the same company. I should clearly have been paying closer attention. These panties aren't cotton. They're some weird synthetic blend, which means they stretch. A lot. I could probably pull the leg holes open wide enough to fit both my legs through one hole. The waistline rides up to my belly button when I work and gives me horrible wedgies, and I can't seem to get them to stop turning into thongs.

So I've been wearing the remnants of my everyday-rotation stash and some other panties which are more comfortable but more exciting, and dreading the day when I bend over without thinking and expose something exciting to my coworkers. They'd notice. I may be one of the guys, but they'd notice.

I'm going to get all old for a moment and ask why the hell the things I like have to change? Why can't they just keep the panties that I find comfortable the same? Huh? Okay, putting my walker and blue hair dye away. Now I'm faced with the annoying prospect of having to buy a number of pairs of underwear without knowing whether they'll be any good in order to find another kind which will undoubtedly disappear as soon as I find them. And you can't try on underwear, no ma'am. So that's money. Hooray. Or I can buy the more expensive kind that yes, I do like more, but which cost as much for one pair as I can get two or three in bulk. Hooray.

I'm sure you all wanted to hear about this. But it's been on my mind.

In exchange for listening to me rant about panties, here's me in panties.

Whose hand is it? Well it could be anyone's. I'll leave it up to your imagination.

Talking It Over

I've made it fairly clear in the past that I don't intend for this blog to become nothing more than a place where I post pictures, of myself or others or anything, really. I have various reasons for this, not least of which is that I don't have any reliable means of taking pictures. And those people kind enough to comment have made it clear that they, in turn, don't expect pictures, although they seem to enjoy them an awful lot.

I particularly didn't want to bring up pictures during the previous Spring Break week because Sveta has, in the past, shown a lack of basic precaution when it comes to pictures, and because Ernst has made it clear that he'd really, really like to take a whole lot of pictures or video or whatever. I figured that bringing up the subject would only make things worse, and perhaps I was right. Plus I didn't really want to mention blogs around Ernst.

I guess I'm being hypocritical in the extreme, except that when I was Sveta's age, I did crazy things, some of which wound up in places I would have preferred they hadn't, but Facebook wasn't the behemoth that it is now, and people weren't getting in trouble in later life for inappropriate pictures they took in their youth, at least not as often. When I was young, if you let out your dirty pictures, the only way other people would see them is if they were looking for dirty pictures. Now, people are posting things on Facebook etc. which can be seen by just about anyone.

Anyway, I'm beginning to sound like an old fart here, which wasn't my intention. I was just trying to explain why I was being hypocritical. But Sveta found out and called me on it, and perhaps rightly so. I, in turn, raised the issue again of my concern for her lack of online safety, perhaps rightly so as well. In fairness, she's been much better about it, and at first it was mostly just because she was finally out on her own where things like that could happen. Sowing her wild oats. And it would definitely be hypocritical of me to tell her she can't do things.

In the end, we discussed and she said that she understood my points, because after all, I had more to lose and I had bigger secrets to keep, but she wished I would be a bit more flexible. I believe I may have agreed to let her allow Ernst to indulge in some amateur pornography; if I didn't, he certainly indulged anyway, and will probably continue so to do. I'm a bit worried about that; he seems nice enough, but you never know. Still, she's not my child nor is she really a child at all any more, so I have to let her make her own choices.

Anyway, what it boils down to, as far as you're concerned, is that Sveta felt that I was being heartless to my readers denying them any pictures at all. So you can thank her for the following, which was taken almost immediately after our discussion but of which I only recently received a copy. I think the composition was slightly better before I cropped it; maybe Ernst has the makings of a pornographer after all. I hope not, really.

This should not signal a vast outpouring of pictures in the future. I just have to keep you all interested. And I have to try to give Sveta an outlet for her desires to do this kind of thing which is slightly safer. Plus, we're hot together.

They Say It's Your Birthday

It's my birthday too, yeah.

Okay, so it's not my birthday. But it is a blogiversary, a blogthday, a blogibration. That's right, today, four years ago, I started this mess. I had no idea what I was getting myself into.

For all those people who believe that I don't pay attention to my fans, I've changed the banner. It is now halfway between the skinny and the large. Don't compromises kick ass? But that's not all.

If you've got Javascript running (and a reasonably modern browser) I've programmed some fun. First, as you might have noticed when you arrived, the banner and the borders randomize. Maybe they randomly decided to stay the same for you; you can hit refresh if you like to try your luck again. But while you could hit refresh, you'd be much happier looking over to your right, where the poll used to sit, because I went crazy and added some bells and whistles to the bells and whistles.

Assuming you've got a browser that can cope with this sort of thing, you should see two numbers and a button which says, "Random." Click the button. Go on, I dare you. There now, wasn't that easier than hitting refresh? But the numbers are the coolest part; you can choose your banner and border (in that order) by those numbers. Go on, give it a try. See the different (16 in all) combinations. Choose your favorite. Tell me about it.

Now, if all of the above isn't working for you, I should say a few things. First, the experience should gracefully degrade, so if it doesn't work, you should still see a banner and a border, just not a random one. Second, I'm not a Javascript guru; I ginned this up in a few hours with jQuery and it's definitely not fault-tolerant; your mileage may vary. Third, if the connection is slow, it might take a moment for the changes to happen, but once you have the images cached, the changes take place much more quickly. Fourth, if you're looking at the page on a phone, I have no idea what will happen. Damn kids and your computer-phones.

It's a bit of fun. If everyone hates it, or it only works for me and no one else, or it's slowing the site way down, let me know. I just wanted to have some fun for the blogiversary party. Now, get yourself a beverage of your choice, have a slice of cake if there's one in the house, and sing along with me!

Oh, and for those who can't see the assorted banners, here you go.

This just in:

Yule Like This

It's nothing you haven't seen before, but as a special present and thank you for being patient the last few months (and not as the start of a trend), I've got a bit of Yuletide cheer to bring you. I had a devil of a time blacking out the background, but I think it looks decent. And before you ask, I had to black out the background because it crowded the composition something fierce, and the black simplifies and makes me look better.

Or, if you don't like it, exchange it. I'm sure there are plenty of sites which would be happy to provide you with a shapelier, less-blacked-out backside. Here's the receipt:

1 x Lexi butt w/ Santa cap - $FREE

Have a safe, happy, joyous, sexy, whatever else can be had with it day, whatever you believe, whatever you celebrate or don't, and now I really have to go because I'm expecting company any minute now and I should be cooking.

The pun was free too, by the way, but you can't return that; you're stuck with it.

Lack of Moral Hygiene

The title is one of my favorite ways of describing deviancy.  But it's mostly a play on words.

See, as November taught me, some things must be sacrificed on the altar of the Time God (I call Him Timeolus, and He is a cruel and capricious god who delights in making moments fly by when they should drag and drag when they should fly).  One of those things, I'm sad to say, was hygiene of a more physical nature.  Not that I got stinky; I showered frequently.  But I'm afraid that I let the bush grow a bit because I just couldn't be arsed to shave.  I was going to shave for Sveta's arrival, but she told me to leave it, so I did.  I told her it would probably be the last time she'd ever see my bush, so she should make the most of it.  She was intrigued, since she's never (as far as I know, anyway) been with a woman who didn't shave.

I'm not against pubic hair in its place.  Mine just happens to be more trouble than it's worth most times, plus I confess a distinct preference for shaved in my women, so I follow suit.  But I thought, what the Hell, let Sveta have a new experience.  I confess that, in a free moment prior to her arrival, I pruned the hedge a bit while I was shaving my legs in the bath.  But it was so much easier not to have to shave all the time; my showers were much quicker without, so it actually led to me being cleaner than I otherwise might have been.

Still, as soon as I get a chance, I'm going back to being bald because while I like the fiery quality, I don't like the quantity and the maintenance.  Better to just bush-hog the whole thing and be done with it.  I really wish there were an easier solution than shaving, but it's the easiest I've found.  Maybe I'm missing out on miracle new treatments.

However, the reason I wrote all this rigmarole is because I got a picture of the neatly-trimmed lawn, and I wanted to prove to everyone that I'm a natural redhead.  This is definitely not au naturel though; if I leave it without maintenance, it's like an explosion of hair, plus it's not grown in completely (and I imagine that shaving it off all the time probably has thinned it out somewhat).  Heavily pruned and landing-stripped because I didn't want Sveta getting hairs caught in her teeth.  Still, although I don't participate in HNT, I suppose I'll make this post on a Thursday so I can be Half-Nekkid in good company.

Behold!

Yeah, they're cute, I know. I remember being young enough to think that having pubes was cool as Hell.  Now, they're just a nuisance.  Pulling out my Venus and making short work of them as soon as I have the time to take a long enough bath.  By the time this gets posted, chances are good they'll already be but a memory, waiting to spring upon me again the next time I get too lazy to shave.