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Friday, March 30, 2012

Danger-fucking bad girl

We pulled it off last night. Literally. Why a landing strip should be so cute and hot, I don’t know. “Because it’s different.” “We could dye your bush orange.” “That would work.”

It’s one of those days. I’m waiting for my tip from last night’s waxing, but it’s shaping up to be a day without fucking. Stuff keeps coming up and River has to keep going out and doing things. “I’ll meet you at the end of the day,” I say. At least I’m in a good humor about it this time. But one of these days I want to be somebody’s problem instead of being an anonymous domino at the end of somebody’s solution.

Hey. We might be able to squeeze something in. Even though somebody’s stopping by in a half hour. There’s a cushion on the kitchen floor that’s just begging to be used. “We’ve never done it in this corner of the kitchen.” “You’re starting to sound like me.”

River pulls her pants off. Her pussy winks at me from between her up-stretched legs. I admire last night’s handiwork. Peel my clothes off. There’s a neighbor visible across the alley. She’s probably not thinking that there’s fucking all around. I’m the only one who thinks things like that.

I’m coaxing my cock to hardness while I finger River and we listen to something distorted and electronic. I have to prop my dick up to get the fuck started but I follow the beat and we fuck.

It’s nice hitting it to the beat. I’ve got my hard on now. “It’s been feeling nice lately.” Doesn’t it always feel nice? We kiss. We hug. We fuck. My knee hangs off the cushion and pounds the floor. River rolls into doggy. I watch my cock disappear into her, my freshly trimmed pubes making it look longer and thicker. Hello kitty. I let her do all the work. “I’m watching the trees bounce up and down outside.” “I’m watching your ass bounce up and down inside. You really should see this. You’d see why I want to do it all the time.”

I fuck back, we fuck together, my balls dangle on her feet. Press against her ass and use my hips to work my cock in and out. She likes it. “Does that work for you, too?” “Everything I do works for me. That’s how I know what to do.”

I feel my orgasm gathering. We squeeze together as I come in her. I voice my thought. “Danger-fucking bad girl.” “I like that.”

Thursday, March 29, 2012

That didn't go very well

Well that didn’t go very well. We’ve been having lots of sexy sex lately. Twice in one day, River initiating during her period, a blowjob, on the living room floor. Lots of sexy sex.

I thought we’d have some more today. I was waxing River for an upcoming outing. She was pretty cute when we did the landing strip so that’s what we’re going for. I’ve waxed her with wax before but it’s been kind of messy so this time I wanted to use sugar like I used to good effect on myself some years ago. But I couldn’t find any sugar kits. So I got something called “Honey Wax” from the same company which according to the ingredients looks like sugary stuff.

It didn’t work worth crap. I hadn’t even gotten one side of her bush down to landing strip proportions when we had to stop.

No sexy sex for me this afternoon.

We’ll give it another go with wax this evening. I want some sexy sex.

Thursday, March 22, 2012

One of these times

River comes downstairs, holds something small out for me to see, and grins.

“What is it?”

“The tooth fairy already done come and gone.”

“She’s too fast for me.”

“Not always.”

“Is that a hint?”

“I don’t know.”

Regular readers of my little corner of the world (all four of you) know that I’ve had this long-standing fantasy of catching the tooth fairy in the act and having my way with her in exchange for preserving her anonymity. I guess I’ve still got a few years before our kids lose all their teeth. If her cover hasn't been blown by then.

Wednesday, March 21, 2012


River was happy to be caught up on her homework and hinted that something might happen in the evening and advised me to be hydrated. I went to bed and read and eventually turned the light out. A half hour after going to bed I wonder where River is and find her upstairs studying. I must have made the wrong assumption. And I forgot, River doesn’t hint. Apparently she wanted to get some more studying in. I suggest she do it afterwards next time. We stay up talking about crap again.

Monday, March 19, 2012

The flu

Is the flu an STD? We’re about to find out.

Three hours later. Well, we tried. River was gone for hours, ostensibly at the physical therapist’s. Hopefully they were working on kegels. She’d given me quite a warmup in the bathroom earlier today, me sitting on the heated floor, her standing over me and doing a reverse striptease while my cock wanted to get hard and she told me she had plans for later.

But how much later? Not this evening when we're both worn out, I hope.

She comes home. Can I jump her? If I want. I want. I think.

In the bathroom again. Grinding against her ass, cradled in my favorite comfy jeans. Watching ourselves in the mirror. Unbuttoning her comfy jeans. Unzipping. Off. Then mine. My cock hardening. My hands running over her body. Her breasts, behind their padded bra. Her sides. Her stomach. Into her panties. They're off. My boxer briefs are off. Watching. Feeling. Pressing. Breathing.

River leans into the mirror, looking hot, looking sweet, her ass thrust back seductively, my fingers playing in the juice of her slit. But it’s not happening. I’m nowhere near hard enough for the standing rear-entry stick-in.

“Should we try later?” “I don’t know.” I feel unvirile. But I can’t let it get to me. “You can throw me on the bed.” “Let’s try it.”

My finger slips into her wetness. She talks about viruses. That’s usually a good combination, but if we can fuck at all this afternoon it’s going to be a limp dick fuck.

And so it is. It’s a bit silly trying to squeeze my mostly limp dick in and out of her as she spreads her legs wide in her trademark vee, but at least we’re trying. My cock perks up a little bit, but not much. Not enough to get the true feeling of fuck. At least we've had a nice time together. I close her lips over her wetly gaping pussy. We plan to resume in the evening.

River says flu isn’t an STD because it's all about oropharynx, not vagina. Maybe via blowjob then.

Thursday, March 15, 2012

Dee Ess Tee

Daylight Saving Time has never messed us up as badly as it recently did. On Sunday I told River I had a nice plan that involved a mutual bath. I didn’t say anything else, but she knows what I mean by plan. All indications were that she’d be a willing participant.

She comes down from Brook’s room around 10 (formerly known as 9) and I bring up the plan. I’m not sure what all she says. I can only remember two words: “Well, actually . . .”. And I really laid it on her. To me those words made it seem that everything she’d said before was a bunch of crap to be henceforth ignored and if possible forgotten, while everything she was about to say was the actual truth that she should have said earlier. In the back of my mind I knew things would spiral out of control and they did. It’s a combination of River taking things too seriously, and me not taking things seriously enough.

No, I can remember more. Part of the “actually” was that it had gotten rather late. That old excuse/reason again. As if she hadn’t noticed everything was an hour later when she changed the kitchen clocks.

So that plan died a horrible death. Somehow we can always stay up later talking about horrible crap, but stay up later to have a nice time? Not so easy. Note to self: don't give negativity so much influence.

We both came around and we snuggled our way to sleep.

The next day DST was still messing us up, but that's a different story.

Tuesday, March 13, 2012

Sunny spots

When River and I go for walks, we almost always stop for a nice full-body-plaster kiss in a sunny spot. If it’s not sunny, we make our own sunny spot.

There were a lot of sunny spots on today’s walk.

When I started this blog, didn’t I say I wished I’d done more outtakes? Here you go. We’re walking past a rock sculpture in the park. A nice sunny spot. There’s a guy raking the ground nearby. I want to push River up against a large boulder and plaster myself to her and smooch her good. I grab her hand and start heading across the grass with her. She’s unsteady on the soggy ground. “Is it too soggy?” We turn around and walk the few steps back to the path. Missed opportunities can still make me sad, even though I look on the bright side: it was a record-setting sunny spot walk on a romantic day. “What better compliment could there have been for rake guy than to have his nicely raked ground used for a nice sunny-spot kiss?” “Actually I was worried I might puke all over his nicely raked ground.” “Oh.”

Sunday, March 11, 2012

Crash landing

“Any requests?” River thinks for a while. “No. You?” “I was hoping we could have some sex tonight.” I rarely call it having sex. But sometimes it’s got a certain clinical casualness to it. And I do hope we can have some sex tonight. “I thought that was a given.” She did say we should do something friendly tonight. “Just making sure.”

We stare at each other. “Well, do something.” “Like what?” “Get my dick hard.” “I can do that.” “Yes, you can.” Her hand circles my shaft. Her left hand. She prefers her right, but her left is just as skilled. I feel my cock react to her gentle pull and push. She switches hands while we talk. “Now what?” “I fuck you with that thing.” “Your thingy-thing.” “In your thingy-thing. T-bone. Remember it?” “I’m on my side, you’re . . .” “Right here.” “Visually stimulating.” “Yes.” The secret darkness between her pale legs. Where I'm going to fuck her. “I see pussy.” My finger slides along her lips then slips between them. “I hear pussy.” The smacky sounds make me harder. “I smell pussy.” I’m ready.

I watch the tip of my cock disappear into her darkness, the shaft chasing it deep into her interior. And we fuck.

It’s a creative night. A silly night. When we kiss in t-bone it’s a jarring mix of face-to-face intimacy and rear-entry fuck. I roll into topsy-turvy, my head at her feet, and peer up at her from between her legs as we fuck. I turn face down. Usually we shift positions without disengaging, but this time I must have pulled out. The position we end up in is completely improbable. She’s sprawled on the bed face up and I’m sprawled on her face down, our legs scissoring together twistedly, one of her legs hugged to my chest. “What will you call this one?” That's easy. “Crash landing.” She watches my ass and feels my balls. I feel her feeling my balls. That always adds an extra something. Something warm. It’s almost like having an orgasm before I have one. And I watch our thingy-things. Mine sliding in and out of hers. It seems closer than usual. My own private porn video.

It gets sillier. She’s on her back with both legs in the air. I’m facing the other way with my legs spread on either side of her. At least, that’s what I think we’re doing. I stare down under my own body and yes, we’re still fucking. We even slot it back in a few times when it comes out. Humans are so weird.

But it’s time to get real. Face-to-face with me on top. “I want to come tonight.” I haven’t come for about a week. I didn’t come during our last two fucks. I’ve gotten to like fucking without coming, fucking just to fuck, but I want to come tonight. Sometimes the longer we fuck, the harder it is. So I hope it’s not too late.

“What can I do to help?” “Fake an orgasm.” I’ve always told her if she wants me to come, that’s all she has to do. But it’s a tall order for her. She’s never faked one. She doesn’t even really know what she sounds like when she’s coming. She’s paying attention to other things. So she gives me more of a porn soundtrack. But it’s working. For both of us, by the sound of it. Is she still faking? “I can’t tell if you’re faking or not. No more faking.” “I’m not faking.” She’s not having an orgasm either, but she’s got her nice sounds of River being fucked and liking it going on.

It’s a hard bang now, my balls are warming up with impending orgasm, then I’m coming, pushing in deep, feeling her cervix get smashed rudely aside, holding still, feeling the subtle tickle of my load flowing up my cock then bursting into her, against her cervix, squeeze after squeeze. It’s a good one. Worth waiting for.

And I have something to ask tonight. “Will you drip on me?” I’ve never asked that before. But I want to see my load come back out of her. My own white goo dripping from her pussy. “I don’t know if I can.” She straddles me, her lovely labia hanging below her bush. She tries, but all she can get is a smear as she rubs her lips on my cock. “It helps if I pee.” Neither of us wants that to happen here, so we go to the bathroom and she pees and drips. “That was a big load.” “Thanks for trying.”

Saturday, March 10, 2012

The worst fuck I ever had?

River and I were talking last night while I rubbed her back with oil. The topic of the worst fuck I ever had came up. And I told her my worst fuck or two have been with her, when she was non-participatory. Completely inert. Like fucking a blow-up doll. “I was never non-participatory!” “Yes, you were. A couple times when I said I’d do all the work.” Which means she gets to lie face down on the bed while I get hard and fuck her. “I remember saying after one of them that I think I know why some guys never called you back.” “Oh yeah. I remember. I suppose it’s fitting that I’ve been both your best and worst fucks.” “Easily the best.” It was a nice talk.

Tuesday, March 6, 2012

Cooking dinner, or, how does she put up with me?

I convince River to let me help cook dinner. “Ok, the first trick . . .” She bends over for something in the cabinet, her ass flesh filling out her jeans in a nicely shaped way. I have to feel it. “That’s my first trick.” Mmm, River ass. “Actually, my first trick is to wash my hands.” I turn the water on. “Careful, it’s hot.” “It can’t be as hot as the ass I just felt.” I don’t know how she puts up with me. If she talked about my ass all day long I’d feel like a sex object.

“Look. I’m cooking dinner! Isn’t that sexy?” She’s said it’s sexy when I cook, so she better say yes. “Yes.” “That’s why I’m always thinking you’re so sexy. You cook a lot.” Uh oh. Now I don’t feel sexy, so much as sexist, and that’s not sexy.

“Hey, we’re working in the kitchen together.” “Yeah.” “I like doing things in the kitchen with you! Did we get that new counter installed at the right height?” “Yes.” Did she catch my angle? She’s a little slow on the uptake sometimes. She just doesn’t naturally put things together the way I do. Would she even realize that last sentence has my usual sexual slant to it?

Sunday, March 4, 2012

Happy mom and dad

It’s been at least three months since we last used the sex dice. For anybody who doesn’t know what the sex dice are, they’re a pair of dice we would roll after having sex to see when we would have sex next. They took a lot of pressure off me as the primary initiater and the primary rejectee, and I credit them as one of the things that helped me (mostly) turn my mood around last year.

So what have we been doing if we haven’t been using the sex dice? We’ve been having sex. Or as I prefer to put it, we’ve been fucking. River seems to be finding me more irresistible. We’re fucking a lot during the day, and she’s mastered the best way to put me off in the evening: “How about tomorrow morning?” I love a good morning fuck.

Like yesterday, when I spooned her, slotted my hard cock against her vulva, and she helped get it pushed into her. Then she fucked me on top for a while. Her running has increased her endurance for squatting over me and gliding her pussy up and down my cock. Her aim was a little off and I was literally bent out of shape while she slid on and started fucking. She hadn't had her coffee yet, or something. I’m glad I’m not the only one who’s aim is a little off sometimes. No orgasms, but I’m starting to like that. River’s always said sex is still nice without orgasms, and she’s right. After such a nice morning, I felt extra-motivated and got a lot of things done that I hadn’t been motivated to do for a long time.

And this morning. I woke up next to River, feeling her nicely shaped body against mine. My cock slid onto my stomach as it spontaneously got hard. “Good morning.” “Good morning.” “What are you thinking?” “Nothing.” “I’m thinking about this.” I roll between her legs and spread them, humping my cock against her slit. This morning I want to fuck as a fancy good-morning hug. But when I try to push in it doesn’t go. What was I just saying about aim? “Is that the right place?” “There’s a wing in the way.” She moves her labia aside and my cock slips into her. It doesn’t take long before I’m fully inside her. And we fuck. Slow and easy. Fast and vigorous. It’s a good morning.

She flips her leg over me, I roll one way, she rolls the other, and we’re in spoons. I love how her muscular ass feels against me. Another benefit of running. “Did you mean to leave it in?” “Yes.” “You’re sweet. But you know what’s going to happen now.” I push my leg against hers and push my cock all the way into her pussy, feeling her walls part and make way as my cock slides into place.

The sensations this morning are incredible. Maybe it’s because we didn’t finish yesterday. I moan involuntarily. Breathe in and out as my cock moves in and out. I could pass out, it feels so nice. “I’m practically having an out-of-body experience back here. This can’t possibly feel as nice to you.” “Why not?” “Because if it did you’d want to do this every day.”

We’re still fucking in spoons when our daughter comes into the room. Maybe not fucking so much any more, as relaxing with my penis in River’s vagina. We make room for our daughter to crawl into the bed with us. I'm still inside. It seems almost normal. She sees us spoon in bed all the time, only this time it’s a little bit different. I like to think we’re setting a good example of being happy mom and dad. I hope so.