Who would do that?

River skipped her shower this morning. She knows what that's going to get her. “I want to eat your pussy.” “You might not like the taste.” Is she kidding? Why wouldn’t I like the taste? “I wiped it with an anti-smelly wipe.” I can't believe it. “Who would do that to a perfectly good pussy?”

Is that what I think it is?

We’re at my parents’ house for a few days. They’re gone. I’m in the shower. Unaccompanied, unfortunately. “I have to get my coffee,” says River. “I thought you were going to say ‘I have to get my cock.’” “I already got that.” Indeed she did. Her cock. My cock. Same thing.

So I’m in the shower. It’s a stall with a shower head on each side. Takes all the fun out of showering together, we agree. Well, not all of it, I guess. I look up and see something hanging from one of the shower heads. OMG. Is that what I think it is? It's triangular and has a strap. It looks like a filter mask. For breathing. Is that for when they fart in the shower? Whose side is it on?

Oh. It’s just some kind of body washing device.

Analogies

Today River says she only likes doing it, by which she means fucking, because she likes me. I sort of knew that, but today I’m thinking about it. I’m not sure quite how I feel about that but my first reaction is that I don’t like it, and it doesn’t make me feel too good.

I think I’d rather have a sweetie that likes doing it and likes doing it with me best of all. It’s kind of depressing to think of her happily not doing it for the rest of her life if I suddenly snuff it.

She says she likes it, and she certainly seems to most of the time, but rightly or wrongly what she says gives me this feeling that she only likes it because it placates me or something. No, she says she wants to have a full relationship with me that includes sex. But when I’m dearly departed she’ll be happy not having that kind of relationship with anybody. And not having sex with anybody.

I always look for analogies to try to understand things better. So I think, that’s like me saying I only like drinking wine because I like her. That doesn’t help at all because it’s true that I really have no use for drinking except it’s something I like to do with her. If she bit it I would happily live the rest of my life without drinking. Well, I wouldn’t be happy at all if she bit it, but not drinking wouldn’t make it worse.

So how about, I only like remodeling the bathroom because I like River? I’ve only got two analogies but I’m noticing a pattern here. River looks at sex the way I look at remodeling the bathroom.

I was right. I don’t like that at all.

Now I wonder if people look at our new bathroom and think wow, Reed and River must have some pretty great sex.

In the middle

“You’re right. Fucking without having an orgasm is still quite nice.” This after a long and somewhat exhausting session for both of us. “I’m glad you’re getting to find that out.” “But now we’re still in the middle of a fuck. I was thinking that during Thanksgiving dinner -- ‘We’re in the middle of a fuck.’” “Cute.” “And then I wonder how many other people are in the middle of a fuck.” “Ha ha.”

Both of us were happy

A friend writes, “Last night we had a really sweet fuck, both of us came, and both of us were happy.” This morning River and I had a good time in the bath. River tried out the new shower head. I enjoyed a good long show while the tub filled and her vulva slowly submerged and I rubbed her g-spot, and I got to try my hand at using the shower head on her. Afterwards I enjoyed the squeaky friction of her watery-wet pussy, which isn’t usually my favorite but this time there was just something different. Neither of us came. “A morning taster,” River called it. Both of us were happy.

Why do these words sound so nasty?

“Cunnilingus. Or some ridiculous word like that.” “It is pretty ridiculous.” “But not as bad as fellatio.” “What’s wrong with that?” “It sounds all hoity-toity.” “Just think of it like this. Fella. She. Oh.” Her mouth forms the shape. Where did she learn that? In the church van on the way to a retreat? “Where did you learn that?” “I just made it up.” “Where have you been all my life?”

Asking for blow jobs

Asking for blow jobs is awkward for me. But I’m working on it a little.

The dice say we’re not on until Saturday evening. That’s fine. We had a very nice flurry on Thanksgiving and aftewards. Last night I was telling River how on the way to work I got harder than I remember getting in that situation for years. It usually only starts getting hard when I’m on the second day of a Cialis, or when we do it in the morning without finishing. But this time it got harder than that. If River had been with me I would have pulled over on the side of the freeway.

“What brought that on?” “I was thinking about how we slipped into that fantasy that you were a college student answering a post I put on the job board.” “What was the job for?” I make something up. “A blow job.” “I’d answer a post like that.” I like where this is heading. “But not until after my final.”