I should have died out long ago

According to my reading of an article in Psychology Today (how many people out there even knew I could read? Surprises abound. And since I'm hanging out in parentheses here, I'll add that I typically don't actually read this magazine or any other magazine unless I'm in a waiting room. Hey, parentheses are fun! I should use them more often. Ok, back to the regularly scheduled blog post . . .), I should have died out a long time ago. "Dozing off right after sex provides an evolutionary advantage to men: It shuts down the opportunity for a commitment conversation and increases their chances of reproducing with other mates." I do not doze off right after sex. I used to go ride my bike for an hour or something. River weighs in: "They make that shit up and print it like it's true. How can they validate that scientifically?" If anything, I think I have an evolutionary advantage with my penchant for morning and daytime sex, and avoiding the commitment conversation by going out for bike rides afterwards.

Lesbian dream

“I had a dream last night. I dreamed I was a lesbian.” “How did that go?” River knows what I mean by that but she doesn’t want to say. Turns out, she’s got good reason. “Did you have an orgasm?” “Maybe.” That means yes. I wish I could have no-mess orgasms in my sleep, and fuck afterwards. I wonder how her body does it without clitoral stimulation. But, she didn’t say yes. For a reason. “You had an orgasm last night and you didn’t wake up and want to do it?” “I didn’t say yes because I knew you’d say something like that. It’s a turn-off.” That’s why she didn't tell me. “You wake up after an orgasm with a naked sweetie and don’t want to do it? Maybe you are a lesbian.” Turn off. “I didn’t say I didn’t want to do it. I just didn’t do it.”

I have to change my tactics. I come up behind her and snuggle her. She’s in her scrubs drinking coffee. I’m naked. “Girls sure feel nice. Soft. And warm. Easy to talk to. And you sure are a cute lesbian.” Is it just me, or is it every guy’s fantasy to be the guy, the kind of guy, who can get a lesbian willingly into bed with him? “That’s better.”

I brush my teeth and pee while she drinks coffee. When I come out of the bathroom she’s curled up on the bed in her scrub tops and nothing else. Sexy wow.

How do I convince a lesbian to fuck me? I feel like I’m fumbling with her. At least my cock is responding to her attentions. It’s not fully hard yet when River adjusts our positions. I think she's just giving me better access, but she sticks my cock in like she can't wait. Her post-orgasm pussy is wet wet wet, but not noticeably tighter. And we fuck.

There’s lots of dirty talk about doing it with a penis, fucking her lesbian pussy and filling it with come, her saying it’s her first one, me saying it probably doesn’t compare to the dildo she was dreaming about. “Bang me like a guy.” “I don’t bang guys.” “Like a guy bangs a girl.” We bang, hard and fast, our bodies slapping together, my hand on her shoulder pulling her body onto mine, her foot driving me, pulling my body into hers, her voice telling me it’s what she wants.

But in the end, I can’t fill her lesbian pussy with come. “That’s ok. All of the fun and none of the drip. And the promise of more later.” Nice reframe.

It must be the juxtaposition

We come back to the bedroom in the morning after going pee. River has her robe on, lying on the bed with her knees up. She looks inviting. It’s unintentional, I’m sure, but inviting nonetheless.

A night or so back I was showing her some pictures I’d taken of her. “That looks inviting. If I were a guy I’d want to do something with that.” “I’m a guy. I want to do something with that.” Not tonight, she said. I don’t think she would have ended up minding if I had, but I agreed for once. Some other night.

Back to morning. I’ve never been one for robes. I just don’t get them. I’m naked. And she’s inviting. I part her legs, move her robe out of the way, get into position. My cock dangles against the tickly stimulating fuzz of her vulva, rubbing up and down, wishing it were hard. I want to fuck. But it’s going to take more than that. Stupid ED.

We talk while I stroke myself and gradually become erect. Rub my cock between her lips. Push in. And we fuck. Well, not quite yet. Once again she’s got to reach down and spread her labia out of the way. She never used to have to do that. I’m losing my touch. Or maybe I’m not getting hard enough to penetrate through obstacles anymore. Or maybe I just like how she opens herself to me. I do love her labia. Now we’re fucking.

It’s a nice fancy hug fuck, me holding her face in my hands, saying I love you, and getting some hard banging action, but I don’t feel a finish any time soon. I sit up, trying to work up the willpower to pull out, but I can’t, and we fuck with my knees spread and her legs held together in front of me. Now we’re really going. Hitting her g-spot in this position. “If that feels as good to you as it does to me, you’re going to finish.” She’s right. It's good, hitting the stimulating terrain of her g-spot. But it’s still taking a while, and before I finish I tire and need a break. We’ll finish later.

I like how every time is different. I especially like the lead up. Today I like the short and sweet spontaneity of the lead up, the giving in to the inevitable. And I like what happens after we fuck.

The kids aren’t up yet. River goes to the kitchen to make her coffee. Since I didn’t come, there isn’t even any drippage for her to deal with. I pull on some boxers and hang out with her. It’s really early, but I’d feel bad going back to bed after fucking her, when she has to get up.

As I walk into the kitchen I feel my cock tumble out of the fly in my boxers. My cock, or, as I often like to call it, my silly penis thing. There it is. Hanging out with River and me. River doesn’t ever notice when my pants are unzipped, but at least she notices when my cock is spilling from my boxers. We both like silly.

I untie the belt of her robe to reveal 100% girl. We hug. My reaction is visible. She goes about her business.

I grab a camera. Come up behind her. Slip the robe off her shoulders and let it fall. Snap some pictures of her ass as she stands at the sink. Why is the kitchen such a sexy place to be naked?

Won't you dilate?

We're on the bed. River stripped to her panties, me on top in cowgirl position. We stare into each other’s eyes. “That was cool, watching your eyes . . . dilate. You can’t fake that. That’s probably the best compliment I’ve ever gotten.”

Happy TMI

I guess my last TMI was so good that I got another (dubious) award, this time from lurker extraordinaire Lady J. Thanks, Lady J, you're very generous, I think. And your generosity will be rewarded, not because I'm generous, but because you didn't follow the rules and that kind of thing always scores points with me.

Sorry about all the ado. Here we go.

I was 19. I was on the beach in Alassio, Italy. Wearing a speedo-syle suit. Amongst topless women. You got that, right? 19. Speedo. Topless women. You know where this is going. All you need is the details.

I think I managed to keep my excitement down and keep it in my suit pretty well. Until the topless teenage roller skaters came by, with their perky bare breasts perking toplessly. There are so many reasons why that would not be legal in the US. There are so many reasons why the US sucks.

I couldn’t help it. The more I tried not to think about the perky breasts on roller skates with the perky young women attached to them, the more I thought about them. I seared the image into my memory to this day. My cock hardened, trending up and to the left as it prepared to do its business, my suit making a valiant attempt to keep it constrained within its boundaries. I doubt it was entirely successful.

I had to walk around like that for a while with my by now self-perpetuating erection lurking quasi-hidden. Why should getting an erection be so embarrassing? “Look, I’m so manly I don’t even get hard for nubile young women on roller skates.” Uh, yeah, whatever.

When I took the suit off back at the pensione, there was dried pre-cum where the tip of my hard cock had lodged.

A nice day

I can’t believe I wrote this. Once again I’d like to stop, partly because blogging and attempting to be social is a big time-suck in my overwhelming and chronically fatigued life, and partly because blog-land seems to contribute to my depression. I have a better feel for addicts who keep doing things that are bad for them.

I’m sitting on our porch swing on a nice day. The kids are at friends’ houses. River is off being a nursing student. I’m alone at home. At some point I realize the nicest thing about today: no lawnmowers or other gratuitous noise. It makes the day noticeably nicer. A truly beautiful day. I don’t get why so many people have to mow their little lawns with stinky noisy fossil fuels instead of using a quite, eco- and neighbor-friendly push mower. Especially on a nice day. Spray-painting over the Mona Lisa is what they're doing.

River is back. She walks up to the porch, smiling. “I’m home!” I smile back. “The kids are gone and I’m home alone.” “What should we do with ourselves?” “Have a quickie.” Did the person walking by hear that? I hope so. I’m not sure River’s taking me seriously, but at least there wasn’t a dismissive laugh. “I have to go pee and change out of these scrubs.” She is taking me seriously. It is a nice day.

I unload the dishwasher. When she comes around she’s still got the scrubs on. Hmm. “Did you go pee?” “I just need to change out of these.” I wonder why she hasn’t yet. Second thoughts? No, she’s never thinking what I think she’s thinking.

I load the dishwasher while she goes off and does something. I’m patient. We’ve got at least an hour before any kids come home. Enough time for a couple quickies.

She comes up behind me. Is she going to be all sexy about it? She is. I feel her hands on me. I reach back, expecting to feel the smooth warm skin of her hips. But I feel scrubs. Huh. “Were you expecting me to be naked?” “Actually, yes.” “Now I have to pee. And get out of these.” She peels her top off while she heads to the bathroom.

She opens the bathroom door and comes out. I’m standing there. Naked. “Well hello.” She turns into the bedroom and strips, revealing the enticing curves of her ass. The enticing curves of her. “Did you close the front door, or is it still wide open?” “I closed it.” She bends over, her hands on the bed, her legs slightly apart. “Do you have a plan?” “No, but it looks like you do.” I move into place behind her. I wish I were hard. But I have to get hard. Rubbing against her ass has been doing it lately, but she’s in position for a replay of what we did a week or so ago. I drop to my knees. We make silly grins at each other between her legs. The lips of her snatch beg to be parted. I spread them. They stay parted, their gaping edges inviting me to explore the territory between them.

“I’m always worried I’m going to have toilet paper shards.” “I’m worried I’m going to have leftover Chinese food in my mouth.” I stretch my tongue out and probe. Traverse the expanse of pink between her frilly opening and her clit. The tangy taste of her pussy excites me. My cock hardens quickly as I stroke it, while my tongue fucks her and reaches for her clit. “My part likes this. This sure seems like a strange thing to like.” Even stranger than liking fucking. “Yes, it does.”

When I’m ready I stand behind her. River’s hand guides my cock into her. I push. And we fuck.

Clothing optional

So there River and I are at the outdoor clothing-optional hot tubs. Our clothing is, of course, optional. Strangely to me, some people’s clothing is more optional than others. But there’s a man and a woman in the next tub, and her clothing is definitely optional. Her tits are large but nice, and she’s very female. Clothing should always be optional.

River and I finish soaking, dry off, and clothe. I wait outside while River goes pee. She does that a lot.

Clothing-optional girl stands up in her tub. Her ass, although larger than what I’m used to, is well within the bounds of good proportion. Her tits are prominently visible around the side of her body, and have a nice shape without support. I get a good long look. Why is she standing? Is she cooling off? No. Showing off. I’m nearly sure of it when she raises her arms and puts her hands behind her head. I'm flattered to be her audience.

Her companion has moved to an adjacent tub. I look over to him, and he’s looking at me. I hold my gaze steady, long enough to let him know I know he’s watching me watch his woman. They’re both showing her off. I like it.

She turns. Faces me. Her breasts with their dark-tipped nipples confront me full-on. Her waist nips in nicely. Her hips are classic female. Sadly I can’t make out the details of her bush. The area is somewhat darker, but I can’t say whether it’s trimmed, shadowed, or just a light color. A hint of labia flashes when she shifts position and her legs part for an instant.

She faces me a long time. Her companion’s eyes are on her now. After what seems like a long time, but not long enough, River returns and clothing-optional girl sinks into the tub as we leave and I watch.

“She reminded me of someone. But I couldn’t make out her bush. What did she have?” “I don’t know. I wasn’t looking.” “She was showing off. Her man liked it. Like I like showing you off at the mall.” “I can see that.”

Excuse me, I'm a professional . . .

We’re spending the weekend at a place with outdoor hot tubs. Clothing optional. The sun has set. At this time of day, minors are not allowed at the tubs. We strip on the deck and submerse ourselves luxuriously in the hot water.

We're here with a mission. I try to set a good example for other people by not assuming they're ok with what we're about to do. “Excuse me. I’m a professional photographer. I specialize in erotica. Would you mind if I take some photos of my lovely model here?”

The other guests at the tubs are cool with a shoot. As long as they’re not in the photos. Too bad. I’d do some of them for free.

River stands in the tub. Is anybody watching her show off her sporty body with its compact tits and landing strip and perfect ass curves? I’m watching. And my camera is watching. It’s mere inches from going for a swim. The lens is steaming up. Focusing in the low light is just one step beyond hit-or-miss. We get some interesting angles. River sits down, her nipples peeking just above the waterline. “Look into the water.” She sits her ass on the edge. “Lean forward like you’re going to stand up.” Gives me a mud-flap girl pose. “My boobs aren’t big enough for this.” “Nobody’s are.” I’m almost hoping someone will come forward and say “Mine are!” River steps out and stands at the railing, facing out through the woods into the cool dark of the night air. Showing us what a girl ass is supposed to look like.

I bring the camera over so I can show her what she looks like to me. We like this one. River’s pale warm skin is a striking contrast to the piercing dark blue sky. Erotic. That’s how she looks to me.

We soak together in the tub until we’ve had enough. River walks to the outdoor shower. When I join her, I see her silhouette showering in the light pouring through the water from behind her. Time for more. “Step towards me.” “Hips to the side.” She puts a hand on her breast as I shoot. That’s a keeper. River’s a keeper.