Bath

Last night River and I had a bath together in our new tub that comfortably and intentionally seats two. When I came in River told me she hadn’t washed her hoo yet. As usual I think that’s some kind of hint. Maybe she wants to see how long I can hold my breath while I dive her muff underwater. Yes, it’s a hint, but only that I can wash her hoo. It’s usually something I do in the shower, getting a good lather going in her muff, then scooping my fingers down between her legs, through the alleys beside her vulva, in the grooves between her labia minora and majora, delving into the soft ellipse of her pussy, briefly up to her clit, finishing with a sweet rub on her asshole.

Today she’s on full display, leaning back on the end of the tub, her feet up on the edges. I soap up her bush, working up the lather. My hand slides down over her vulva, my fingers opposite to their usual orientation. And it’s amazing. The overarching slipperiness, her lips straining and squishing between my fingers, her vagina winking open without shyness as I pull downwards, the vast expanse of female flesh to behold. It’s bigger than life. How could I begin to satisfy such a thing with my tongue, or even with my fully erect cock?

Impromptu intimacy

This morning we had some time to sleep in. And we both slept well last night. We were going to watch the end of our movie but we discovered the hard way that we both had tired-induced grumpiness. So we just went to bed and fell asleep snuggling.

In the morning we wake up nearly at the same time. River rubs my feet with hers. “That’s always extraordinarily sexy.” I slowly get hard. That’s how it’s supposed to work. She takes a pee break then we snuggle face to face, me pushing my hardon against her vulva with my leg. Like old times. “Do you have a plan?” “Let’s do our old stick-in.” Face to face on our sides, her leg over mine. The one we used to start with a lot. She thinks she’s had some geometry changes, or maybe she’s not as flexible as she used to be. But she’s wrong. It’s like old times. “And he’s in.” And we fuck.

It’s a gorgeously sweet fuck on a lazy morning. Entirely in the stick-in position. We usually move on quickly because it’s not very deep, but this morning it’s just the thing. Fast, slow, smooth, abrupt. Intimate. Playing with each other’s nipples. And talking. “You like talking while we do it.” “I’ve written that many times.” “It’s like we’re having this nice pillow talk up here, while somebody else is fucking down there.” “That’s exactly how I think about it.” I don’t know why I like it so much.

We talk about many things. We even talk about fucking. About how happy I am that I get to do this with her. About how there’s a penis in her vagina. About how it’s a nice intimate morning, talking and fucking. About how I wish we could start every day like this. About how we’ll finish tonight, when we’re actually scheduled. This has been a perfect impromptu fuck. We both think so.

A few times I try to stop so we can get up. But I don’t have the willpower. “I’ll stop.” “We’ll stop together.” I count down, 3, 2, 1, and we pull apart.

No Sexo

In the second installment of Sex and Lucia, there is no fucking. And I realized, there was no fucking in the first installment, either. There was pretending to fuck. They are actors and actresses. Pretending is their job. For all I know the hardon shot used a prop. There was one interesting scene with a woman and a shower head. “I invented that,” says River. “You and every other woman.”

But there was actual fucking in this movie. They were watching a porn video. And they were fucking in the video. I could see the guy’s hard cock sticking right into the girl under her ass. So how come it’s ok to have actual fucking in this movie, but the characters don’t do it? (At least not yet.) Is it because they’re serious actors and actresses? When Marilyn Chambers did Behind the Green Door in the 70s, she went from Ivory soap girl to interracial onscreen cum dumpster because she thought that’s where serious acting seemed to be going. Maybe she was ahead of her time.

And so what if the serious actors and actresses are fucking in a movie? It’s just something boys and girls do. This movie even has a character deliver the line “Sex. No intimacy. Just wild sex.” As if it’s the most normal thing in the world. Serious actors and actresses certainly kiss in movies, and that’s sometimes considered more intimate than fucking. Why not go all the way?

Lucía y el sexo

“How did you choose that movie?” “I heard the theme song on a couple different Pandora stations. I looked it up. It was nominated for 11 Goya awards.” “I thought you got it because it has lots of fucking. Something I might actually watch.” I didn't even notice there was any music in it.

We’ve been trying to find movies to watch together. Lately it seems movies just kind of waste my time and make me grumpy and I leave partway through to clean the kitchen. Even though I like sitting on the couch with River, holding her hand and feeling her shape next to me. But we watched part of Sex and Lucia last night, and we both intend to watch more. We have to watch in installments after the kids are in bed and we have some time together.

So, what’s ok about this movie? It’s in Spanish. It’s got a good title. And it’s got a lot of fucking. It’s European so there’s even a closeup of a hand stroking a hardon. River says it’s a nice one (the hardon, that is). She’s seen more than I have so I’ll take her word for it. The girl’s nice looking and she’s got perky boobs. And she walks around the apartment naked. That wins me over right away. I like people who walk around the house naked. I do it. River does it. I assume that everybody does it but it’s not the kind of thing that tends to come up in casual conversation so I’m not sure.

River even likes the sex in the movie, which is really saying something. It's giving her ideas, which is more than I can usually manage to do. She especially likes the sex near the beginning, where they’re swimming and splashing in an ocean lit by the full moon. Sinuous, she says. A word I’ve used to describe her. And somehow they’re managing to fuck at the same time. A little improbable, I think. Or I’ve got a lot to learn.

River notices me giving her an assessing look as she undresses at bedtime. I’m pretty sure I always look at her like that. And she likes it. And I like it when she notices me looking. But she asks, “What?” “Just making sure I still like your boobs after watching perky boob chick.” Not that her boobs aren't perky. But they are, as I put it, compact. “Do you?” “They’re still my favorites.”

Trust

After my unsuccessful attempt at jacking off in her studio in the afternoon, I try again in bed with River in the evening. This time with lube. We have massage oil next to the bed, it’s got the best feel, it's most like River's own water-based juices, but I want something with easier clean-up. She brings me a small bottle of Astroglide. That works.

She rolls toward me. Is she going to watch? I’d like her to. It’s demoralizing jacking off next to her and having her roll away and go to sleep. Tonight would be especially bad, since jacking off between fucks is her idea. But she watches. I have my favorite audience. I grasp the head of my cock, squeeze some lube onto the tip, spread it around, over the slit, down the glans, and stroke toward the base with a few fingers, pulling up, sliding down, trying to coax my cock into stiffening. I feel the characteristic weightiness in my shaft, but not enough.

I’m not getting hard on my back. I sit up and look at River. Sitting up works better for me lately. She pulls the covers off herself. Pushes her ass in my direction for my viewing pleasure. My cock responds. “That looks like a good one.” I can jack it, but I show her how it still bends easily. “That should hurt.” Or be impossible. But it's hard enough to feel nice..

I gaze into the shadow between her legs. Under her ass. I can't see much. But I know how it would feel. Smell. Taste. I get harder. My cock will only bend to ninety degrees now.

Maybe I can get some audience participation. “What would you like me to think about?” It’s been a while since I masturbated. I often thought about River. Mounting me. Sliding her pussy down my cock. Fucking me. Making me come inside her. But I let her choose my fantasy tonight.

“Creamy breasts.” She pulls the cover aside a bit more. “Rosy nipples.” I reach my hand out, touch her hip. Her skin is warm and smooth and pale. “Soft thighs.” My hand slides over her ass. I’m hard now. “What’s between them?” “Pink. Glistening. Slippery.” That’s her. She’s my fantasy. And more. My fingers slip between her legs and find a soft pool of willing flesh. I want to fuck her. She knows I want to fuck her. Take my hard cock and push it into her while we both sigh. But she’s trusting me not to. I don’t want to lose her trust.

And I don’t have to. My meds don’t make it easy. But I’ve reached the threshold of orgasm. “I’m going to finish.” She smiles. I time every stroke to maximize my response. When I feel it I move forward. My come spurts and falls onto her. I milk my thumb over the sensitive corona of my glans, squeezing to the last drop as my come puddles on her.

Snuggling

I’m a snuggler. Over the years I’ve converted River into a naked-sleeping snuggler, too. And into someone who likes kissing. And she’s even enjoyed cunnilingus with me a few times. Next she’ll even enjoy fucking. Well, she does enjoy it, and always has, at least since she’s been doing it with me. It’s just that she tends not to remember how much she likes it. And she’s converted me, too: it didn’t take long for me to like being on top. She’s very appreciative. Very fuckable.

But snuggling is what’s on my mind now. For over a year we had a long dry spell. No fucking. No snuggling. I would sleep over on what I called my sad side of the bed, which was about one inch wide. Somehow I never fell off the edge, but I probably would have enjoyed it if I had. I still loved River and always have. She calls our dry spell more like being brother and sister. And she hated me occasionally. I found that out later. I wish I'd found out sooner.

But I’m trying to talk about snuggling. Sometime between then and now I realized that we should always snuggle in bed. Even if things are a little rocky. We know we’ll make things better. We always have. Snuggling is reassuring. We still like each other. Still love each other. We’re bigger than the rocky patch of the moment. I’ve never regretted snuggling. I have regretted not snuggling. And I do too many things that I regret. I don’t need one more.

River agrees. We should snuggle.

And so we do. We usually go to bed at the same time now. One of us snuggles on the other as long as we can stand it. Sometimes until we both fall asleep. When I snuggle on her, I pull our bodies together and often say something like “Once again you’ve got all the good space, and I’m trying to get into it with you. Why can’t we both occupy the same space? Stupid laws of physics.” River's space is very nice.

I really wasn’t sure how she could stand me being such a greedy space-occupying snuggler. She’s got a lighter, but very nice, touch. So one night she snuggled on me like I snuggle on her, and it was quite nice. I felt loved. But she can snuggle me however she wants. I like it however she does it.

We can’t usually snuggle until we fall asleep. We usually end up separating. But I always like to touch. It’s hard for me to fall asleep without touching. Our legs. My hand on her comforting ass. Anything. Just to touch. And fall asleep.

This is hard

This is hard. (What is it exactly that's so hard? Sometimes I think I just need to avoid that word when I'm not talking about that.) River and I had a really amazing fuck this morning. I want to write about it in the full-on hardcore Reed-POV immediate-tense in-my-head erotica that I've come (shut up) to know and love. But I liked the feeling of being a non-blogger and just fucking and living my life without the words rattling around in my head waiting to be blogged.

For now let's just say it went something like this: River initiates and takes charge and leads us through a series of interesting positions and nice views. But she's so slippery that I'm going to have to finish on top. She looks about 19 and plays along with my fantasy of fucking a 19-year old who's getting more than she bargained for. Three times we nearly stop but I get hard again inside her, and finally I feel an orgasm and we have an intensely hot sweaty fuck for the finish.

I feel better now.

A hug

River and I are both huggers and always have been. A few days ago she's giving me a hug. I warn her that I might have to burp. I'm not a very accomplished burpist. Not good at letting them out when I need to, or keeping them in when I should. So she runs her hands up and down my back and says "My mom always believed in rubbing them out."

I'm still laughing.

Acceptance

I’m going a bit out of order here, but I wanted to get this down while it was still fresh.

River has been having some libido issues. She says for months. I say for years. She’s going to see about getting them addressed. In the meantime I don’t want to be pressuring her every five minutes to fuck, like I usually do. That cannot be good for her libido. So she suggests that I jack off. She doesn’t think much of my suggestion that I just hang out on the street and ask women whether they’d like to fuck. And I’d probably like jacking off more than I’d like propositioning random women. So, jacking off it is.

I used to jack off a lot, but not so much any more. There are a couple of reasons. First, I’ve been getting (almost) enough fucking, and second, I’ve got ED issues. “And you don’t want to waste an erection on jacking off.” “Right.” It’s not like the old days of a mere three years ago when I could and did jack off with no harm done regardless of whether we might be fucking later. Now it can be hard to get an erection (I can't believe I said that) (yes, I can) and if I come I’ve probably just shot my wad in the foot (I love mixing metaphors) for any action later in the day.

So, in order that I know what’s coming up (ha ha), we go back to our scheme of letting the dice decide our schedule. The dice say Monday morning. That is a really long time from today which is Tuesday. We last fucked on Saturday and I’m at my three-day peak of really feeling the need in my balls. And we’ve just had a really nice emotional warm up talk. So I say it. “I’d fuck you right now.” I drop my pants to show my visual aid. It would be more impressive if I were unleashing a raging hardon but there’s my limp dick dangling, only slightly puffy. But nothing doing. She turns me down flat. Doesn't even hesitate. Says she has to study. As if I don’t “have to” fuck.

If I’m going to jack off, I need a place to do it. Not a place like the old days when I was kind of secretive about it. A place where River can keep an eye on me, so to speak. Jacking off was her idea. I’m sure she’ll help me find an appropriate spot. She suggests one of the chairs in her art studio. I was hoping she’d say that.

Before I start I walk over to her desk and unzip. "Will you highlight me?" She draws a smiley face on my glans with her pink highlighter. Maybe it's a self-portrait.

I grab a paper towel, pull my pants off, and get to work. She’s in the corner studying. I’m not getting as hard as I should, and I could use some lube, but it’s quite a sensation having my cock out and chatting back and forth about her studying while I'm trying to come. It reminds me of how I like to talk about things while we fuck.

“I’m not sure I’ll be able to finish.” “I’ll improve your view.” She drops her pants and sits back down. The view does help. “You’ve got a really nice ass.” “Thank you.” I point out that now that I've posted it, people all over the world have seen it. That turns me on. She stands up and bends over and the view improves even more. So does my erection. I like it that she’s trusting me not to just come over and ram my cock into her. Or she knows I’m not hard enough. I prefer to think she’s being trusting. And ultra-flirty.

But it’s just not happening. I even try her magic wand. I can’t believe she sticks that thing near her clit and gets off in under a minute. It seems like massive overkill. It does feel nice down around my anus but I can only take so much (stop laughing, that's not what I meant).

But between the ED and being on an antidepressant that makes it hard to come, I’m just not going to finish. It turns out they give that stuff to premature ejaculators. It really works. I could fuck all night on that stuff without coming. So I give up. I feel like she feels so many times when she tries but has to give up.

I thank her for letting me jack off in her studio while she studies and let her know that I feel accepted, which, it’s turned out, is one of the reasons why I want to fuck in the first place. Acceptance.

Unplugged

Ok. I miss blogging. I still want to tell the world about Reed and River fucking, as well as Reed and River not fucking, this time in less of the fourth-wall pure erotica style that I did in Reed and River are Fucking. Although I'll probably throw some of that in as well.

I miss it so much that this blog is going to spring into existence before I get the visuals and whatever else to the point where I'm comfortable with them.