On Monday I paid a visit to Z at home, and that will likely be the last but one time I will see her before she leaves NYC on an extended trip that will take her out of these posts for a good while, perhaps for ever. It was cold, and we ended up in bed with half our clothes on - the upper half. Once she had warmed up a little we kissed, and then fucked. It was perfect, really - she was delightfully tight and wet, and I really enjoyed all the variations of angle and depth and tempo. And at the end, when I was out of time, I found myself as if on the top of a hill, able to coast into a wonderful orgasm. This was the first time I have come fucking Z - the first time I have come in her company since her visit to my office back in the summer - and it made me particularly happy. I felt, with what justification I am not sure, that it was pleasing to her also.
The mystery of the sensations felt by the other: what is she feeling, is she enjoying it, am I doing it right, am I doing it as well as the last guy? All of these questions are bracketed off with Z. It is hard to allow the proper questions to come to the fore instead - am I enjoying myself, am I pleasing myself in a way that allows that pleasure to register with her, am I feeling for her as well as for myself? It is wonderful, though, when the concerns drop away and I am fucking for the sheer delight of it, for my delight and hers also. Quite special. Not easily reproduced. Nor easily forgotten.
At night, before sleep, a fine, functional fuck with C, in advance of my departure today. Once she had come with me on top, I fucked her from behind and came. For C, that is enough to tide her over until my return a week from now. For me, not enough for a day.
This afternoon I shall spend with D at the Kew Motor Inn, before leaving for the airport.
Tuesday, October 31, 2006
Saturday, October 28, 2006
Monday, October 23, 2006
Z, zipper, zest, zzzzs
The weekend took its toll, and left me terribly tired. But there is no rest for the wicked. So I met up with Z around noon today and we messed about in relatively innocent ways in her room for a while before heading out to the Liberty Inn, by way of some pier or other. Not, unfortunately, Z's preferred pier, as that has been fenced off in preparation for Hallowe'en, as the Pier of Fear. So we sat in the chill wind on some kiddy pier until it was clear that the sun was gone for good.
Room 105, and with not much in the way of foreplay, a magnificent fuck. And while the same asymmetry was there as before, I felt freer to ignore it, and felt easier about letting Z take pleasure in whatever way she could while I had a good time and forgot all about her. That is too blunt an account, of course, and in quieter moments we chatted and she told me something of what she could feel, and as I was fucking her she was never out of my mind or, except when my eyes were closed, my sight.
Sight - another asymmetry. I take off my glasses, so everything blurs, and the mirrors along one side of the bed and on the ceiling present nothing but vague bodies. For Z, though, who is sharp-sighted and anyway more visual, there is a lot to see. So at some point during fucking we shift around on the bed clumsily, so she is lying with her head hanging off the bed on the mirror side, while I am on top lifting myself up on my arms so she can see, looking into the mirror that is now 'above' her head, back along the length of her own body to where we are joined. And so while I fuck her she watches me fuck her, and both of us are entirely happy. And the blurry version that I can see does look great, though soon she is hanging too far off the bed, and we eventually have to adjust our position and start again.
Well this fucking went on for a good while, before we took a break. The break may have proved a mistake, as I never really recovered my erection, and so we never really got to fuck any more. Tiredness? Or perhaps the difficulty of catapulting myself past the point where her lack of sensation and desire ceases to matter because her pleasure in my sensation and desire has kicked in? Anyway, I could not manage to get hard enough to fuck her again, and that was a little bit of a deflationary ending to what was still a wonderful afternoon.
I am unlikely to see Z more than once or twice before she leaves the city for a while. This is too bad, as time with her is more interesting than any other time I ever spend.
Room 105, and with not much in the way of foreplay, a magnificent fuck. And while the same asymmetry was there as before, I felt freer to ignore it, and felt easier about letting Z take pleasure in whatever way she could while I had a good time and forgot all about her. That is too blunt an account, of course, and in quieter moments we chatted and she told me something of what she could feel, and as I was fucking her she was never out of my mind or, except when my eyes were closed, my sight.
Sight - another asymmetry. I take off my glasses, so everything blurs, and the mirrors along one side of the bed and on the ceiling present nothing but vague bodies. For Z, though, who is sharp-sighted and anyway more visual, there is a lot to see. So at some point during fucking we shift around on the bed clumsily, so she is lying with her head hanging off the bed on the mirror side, while I am on top lifting myself up on my arms so she can see, looking into the mirror that is now 'above' her head, back along the length of her own body to where we are joined. And so while I fuck her she watches me fuck her, and both of us are entirely happy. And the blurry version that I can see does look great, though soon she is hanging too far off the bed, and we eventually have to adjust our position and start again.
Well this fucking went on for a good while, before we took a break. The break may have proved a mistake, as I never really recovered my erection, and so we never really got to fuck any more. Tiredness? Or perhaps the difficulty of catapulting myself past the point where her lack of sensation and desire ceases to matter because her pleasure in my sensation and desire has kicked in? Anyway, I could not manage to get hard enough to fuck her again, and that was a little bit of a deflationary ending to what was still a wonderful afternoon.
I am unlikely to see Z more than once or twice before she leaves the city for a while. This is too bad, as time with her is more interesting than any other time I ever spend.
Sunday, October 22, 2006
Midnight snack
After midnight, rather than lie in the marriage bed alone, I hopped on my bike and went to see J. I was very tired, having been up most of the previous night with D, but still we had a fun time, and it was novel to be with J in the night by candlelight, rather in the day with the sun coming through the blinds and the kids in the playground of the school next door yelling.
Two great sessions of fucking from behind, which is definitely the position that works best with J. But for me the real highlight was a long bout of going down on her and especially some fingering of her clit, partly guided by her, which gave her a very strong climax. We also dozed a little together, talked, kissed. It was delightful, though somehow elegiac in its mood, perhaps just because it seemed like it had taken a very long time to happen - simply to be together in the night, I mean - and was not likely to happen again. Or was it that being together as if we were in some important way a couple simply reinforced the fact that we are not in any way a couple at all? With D the night before that was not true, but for D there is an element of fantasy that is missing with the sane, sensible, sensual, straightforward J.
Two great sessions of fucking from behind, which is definitely the position that works best with J. But for me the real highlight was a long bout of going down on her and especially some fingering of her clit, partly guided by her, which gave her a very strong climax. We also dozed a little together, talked, kissed. It was delightful, though somehow elegiac in its mood, perhaps just because it seemed like it had taken a very long time to happen - simply to be together in the night, I mean - and was not likely to happen again. Or was it that being together as if we were in some important way a couple simply reinforced the fact that we are not in any way a couple at all? With D the night before that was not true, but for D there is an element of fantasy that is missing with the sane, sensible, sensual, straightforward J.
Thursday, October 19, 2006
Omissions, emissions II
Inevitably, I miss stuff out, either through neglect or because I do not know how to recount something. These pile up until they constitute a mass that is too large to be ignored any longer. Examples:
Intra-marital fucks - C and I fucked one morning last week, and yesterday morning as well. These fucks are definitely better than the average intra-marital fuck of a year or more ago, and I believe that with continued application and encouragement they could become really good. But it also has to be said that the gulf between anything that happens with C and the sort of intense, energetic, frenzied fucking that happens standardly with D is huge; or again, that there is more connection at the moment fucking Z than fucking C.
Jerking-off - I sometimes go days without jerking off, and sometimes do it two or three times in one day. This correlates loosely with fucking, so today (when I will not be fucking anyone) I am quite likely at some point to unzip and make myself come. But the correlation is only loose.
Working girls - I have not seen the Englishwoman who I visited way back, again; but I have called her in the hope of seeing her a few times. In that case, the desire is as much to lie around talking about Marmite and pubs in Henley as it is sexual. At some point, I should set out some of my thoughts about working girls and what is going on for me there. Some time ago now I paid a visit to Julia (I assume this is not her real name) in a midtown hotel and had a very good time, and it is really under those circumstances that I feel most comfortable enjoying myself with a woman substantially younger than me. Money does not quite render pure what would otherwise be impure, but it does take over the role that would otherwise have to be played by power, authority, or some other traditional asymmetry between the sexes.
Men - not much on this front, but I did have a go at cocksucking with an Asian man a couple of weeks ago. I didn't seem to be very good at it, but then he was not very good at giving direction. I was interested in him mainly because he was uncircumcised, but in fact his cock was very different from mine, so the narcissistic motivation rather misfired. I did my best, but my heart was not really in it - quite different from my enthusiasm jerking P off, whenever that was.
If I knew exactly what this blog was for, I would know how much these omissions matter. They do not seem to matter much, but perhaps I avoid writing about certain things because I have the reader's opinion of me in mind, and obviously that is a form of dishonesty that I should try to counter.
------------
Beginning this post, I intended also to mention an hour and change with D in my office on Tuesday, but completely forgot, thus omitting it from my list of things that I had omitted.
D came to my office and in an hour or so we fucked, ass-fucked, I went down on her, she sat on my face, 69 (which never is really any good, in my opinion) and then finally I came in her mouth.
I also broke my glasses. D was lying back on the desk, I was eating her out sitting in the chair, so I laid my glasses down on the desk next to her. After she had come and her cunt was pulsing and spasming I stood up and put my cock in her and fucked her. Then at some point I turned her onto her side so I could stick a finger in her ass while fucking, and moved from that to fucking her in the ass. Once I had my cock in her ass, I turned her onto her back again - altogether a very nifty manouevre, I thought. But of course I had turned her over onto my glasses, which were now wrecked. The wages of sin is not death, but repair bills at the opticians.
The explanation for domestic consumption? I sat on them while swimming.
Intra-marital fucks - C and I fucked one morning last week, and yesterday morning as well. These fucks are definitely better than the average intra-marital fuck of a year or more ago, and I believe that with continued application and encouragement they could become really good. But it also has to be said that the gulf between anything that happens with C and the sort of intense, energetic, frenzied fucking that happens standardly with D is huge; or again, that there is more connection at the moment fucking Z than fucking C.
Jerking-off - I sometimes go days without jerking off, and sometimes do it two or three times in one day. This correlates loosely with fucking, so today (when I will not be fucking anyone) I am quite likely at some point to unzip and make myself come. But the correlation is only loose.
Working girls - I have not seen the Englishwoman who I visited way back, again; but I have called her in the hope of seeing her a few times. In that case, the desire is as much to lie around talking about Marmite and pubs in Henley as it is sexual. At some point, I should set out some of my thoughts about working girls and what is going on for me there. Some time ago now I paid a visit to Julia (I assume this is not her real name) in a midtown hotel and had a very good time, and it is really under those circumstances that I feel most comfortable enjoying myself with a woman substantially younger than me. Money does not quite render pure what would otherwise be impure, but it does take over the role that would otherwise have to be played by power, authority, or some other traditional asymmetry between the sexes.
Men - not much on this front, but I did have a go at cocksucking with an Asian man a couple of weeks ago. I didn't seem to be very good at it, but then he was not very good at giving direction. I was interested in him mainly because he was uncircumcised, but in fact his cock was very different from mine, so the narcissistic motivation rather misfired. I did my best, but my heart was not really in it - quite different from my enthusiasm jerking P off, whenever that was.
If I knew exactly what this blog was for, I would know how much these omissions matter. They do not seem to matter much, but perhaps I avoid writing about certain things because I have the reader's opinion of me in mind, and obviously that is a form of dishonesty that I should try to counter.
------------
Beginning this post, I intended also to mention an hour and change with D in my office on Tuesday, but completely forgot, thus omitting it from my list of things that I had omitted.
D came to my office and in an hour or so we fucked, ass-fucked, I went down on her, she sat on my face, 69 (which never is really any good, in my opinion) and then finally I came in her mouth.
I also broke my glasses. D was lying back on the desk, I was eating her out sitting in the chair, so I laid my glasses down on the desk next to her. After she had come and her cunt was pulsing and spasming I stood up and put my cock in her and fucked her. Then at some point I turned her onto her side so I could stick a finger in her ass while fucking, and moved from that to fucking her in the ass. Once I had my cock in her ass, I turned her onto her back again - altogether a very nifty manouevre, I thought. But of course I had turned her over onto my glasses, which were now wrecked. The wages of sin is not death, but repair bills at the opticians.
The explanation for domestic consumption? I sat on them while swimming.
Wednesday, October 18, 2006
Reasons to be cheerful, Part Three
All happiness is fleeting, and the happiness that is rooted in fucking is as fleeting as any. But still it is true that hours before and after fucking can be irradiated by the glow.
I met Z in Soho, and we lunched on meat pies and drifted westwards. I do not know exactly how to explain the world that I walk through with Z and how distinct it is from the world that I walk through alone. And this difference, though I may be turned on to it by my sexual desire for her, is not really to do with sex at all, but to do with her appetite for all of life as it unrolls before her, in all its detail.
Yes, yes, very interesting, but what about the sex?
A blowjob, in one of the huge, vacant structures out on one of the piers - not by any means to completion, as we were en route to the Liberty Inn. And then, once we were housed in Room 105, three hours of delightful tangling, including a couple of long, varied, delightful fucks. Three hours, it turns out, is really not long enough at all, and at the end, after the desk clerk's fifteen minute warning, I think both of us would have been ready to go another couple of rounds.
The fucking was truly excellent, and I felt freer to indulge myself than I had last Thursday. But as usual there is nothing that is easy to write about here - the cliches of hard porn are wildly inaccurate and misleading, and the fuzziness of bodice-ripping romance novels equally so. There is, though, a clarity to the experience of fucking that is attainable with Z, or anyway attainable once the differences between her and other women in terms of sensation begin to sink in. This is a clarity that it is hard to lay claim to, for it rests on a kind of self-centredness that I would normally say is the antithesis of what sexual pleasure depends on. But with Z very many things are transformed. Fucking Z there is nothing to be aware of but my own pleasure. There are no readings to be taken, no responses to be registered and adjusted to, no movements either in synch or out of it to be adapted to or not. I exaggerate, but only a little. Yet her cunt is not inert at all. It grips, it changes, it tightens. Most of the activity is on my side, but that is delightful in its own way, and both fucks today were profound and precise. It was also very pleasant to fuck and talk, to enjoy the phases of fucking, the changes of mood and tempo and tone. And fucking Z is a complete manifestation of the truth that people fuck, not cocks and cunts.
Orgasm? This really was not an issue until the end, when I would have loved to come in her mouth - but for all the afternoon it did not matter at all. She has - a long time ago - seen me come; I would love to come for her again sometime. But that is not what fucking is about.
There is much more to be said, but I am not sure I can say it.
I met Z in Soho, and we lunched on meat pies and drifted westwards. I do not know exactly how to explain the world that I walk through with Z and how distinct it is from the world that I walk through alone. And this difference, though I may be turned on to it by my sexual desire for her, is not really to do with sex at all, but to do with her appetite for all of life as it unrolls before her, in all its detail.
Yes, yes, very interesting, but what about the sex?
A blowjob, in one of the huge, vacant structures out on one of the piers - not by any means to completion, as we were en route to the Liberty Inn. And then, once we were housed in Room 105, three hours of delightful tangling, including a couple of long, varied, delightful fucks. Three hours, it turns out, is really not long enough at all, and at the end, after the desk clerk's fifteen minute warning, I think both of us would have been ready to go another couple of rounds.
The fucking was truly excellent, and I felt freer to indulge myself than I had last Thursday. But as usual there is nothing that is easy to write about here - the cliches of hard porn are wildly inaccurate and misleading, and the fuzziness of bodice-ripping romance novels equally so. There is, though, a clarity to the experience of fucking that is attainable with Z, or anyway attainable once the differences between her and other women in terms of sensation begin to sink in. This is a clarity that it is hard to lay claim to, for it rests on a kind of self-centredness that I would normally say is the antithesis of what sexual pleasure depends on. But with Z very many things are transformed. Fucking Z there is nothing to be aware of but my own pleasure. There are no readings to be taken, no responses to be registered and adjusted to, no movements either in synch or out of it to be adapted to or not. I exaggerate, but only a little. Yet her cunt is not inert at all. It grips, it changes, it tightens. Most of the activity is on my side, but that is delightful in its own way, and both fucks today were profound and precise. It was also very pleasant to fuck and talk, to enjoy the phases of fucking, the changes of mood and tempo and tone. And fucking Z is a complete manifestation of the truth that people fuck, not cocks and cunts.
Orgasm? This really was not an issue until the end, when I would have loved to come in her mouth - but for all the afternoon it did not matter at all. She has - a long time ago - seen me come; I would love to come for her again sometime. But that is not what fucking is about.
There is much more to be said, but I am not sure I can say it.
Sunday, October 15, 2006
Lazy fornicator
It was Z who called me this, and I could not dispute the appropriateness of the title. But fornication is work, of a sort. Certainly I was hard at work on Friday with D, at the Kew Motor Inn. And again today, for a little under two hours, with J. Being a liar, cheat, and adulterer is an occupation, scarcely to be undertaken without serious commitment. But it is not really work, even when one is hard at work. It is pure pleasure, or any rate impure pleasure.
Friday with D, there is really nothing to say that has not been said about other times with her, though she did have me yelling during one of those unbelievable blowjobs that she administers. There was also a lot of assfucking.
Today with J was a spur of the moment affair, and again not much can be said that has not been said before. One novel element, though, was ending up with a handjob. This was suggested by J telling of some man who had praised her as a fuck and a cocksucker but told her she was no good at giving a handjob. I asked her to sit behind me and jerk me off, which she did with expertise and aplomb, until I came all over my chest and stomach. I don't know how circumcised men jerk off, but for me it is all about friction and the foreskin.
With J, as with Z last Thursday, I had a few erection problems. In the case of Z I put this down to newness and unfamiliarity, but obviously that explanation will not go through with J.
Tomorrow I am going to have lunch with K, who I have not seen in a while, and have not fucked in a good while longer. But still, I think it will be just lunch tomorrow. A is still on the West coast, and I will not see her for more than a week.
I realize that this blog is relentlessly positive, containing hardly any reports of disappointing encounters. Does it misrepresent? I do not think so. I am hardly ever disappointed. This is a theme worth exploring, connecting expectation, performance, attitudes, reactions. But like so many things worth exploring, it will have to be left unexplored. For who has time even to blog, when they are so busy being a lazy fornicator?
Friday with D, there is really nothing to say that has not been said about other times with her, though she did have me yelling during one of those unbelievable blowjobs that she administers. There was also a lot of assfucking.
Today with J was a spur of the moment affair, and again not much can be said that has not been said before. One novel element, though, was ending up with a handjob. This was suggested by J telling of some man who had praised her as a fuck and a cocksucker but told her she was no good at giving a handjob. I asked her to sit behind me and jerk me off, which she did with expertise and aplomb, until I came all over my chest and stomach. I don't know how circumcised men jerk off, but for me it is all about friction and the foreskin.
With J, as with Z last Thursday, I had a few erection problems. In the case of Z I put this down to newness and unfamiliarity, but obviously that explanation will not go through with J.
Tomorrow I am going to have lunch with K, who I have not seen in a while, and have not fucked in a good while longer. But still, I think it will be just lunch tomorrow. A is still on the West coast, and I will not see her for more than a week.
I realize that this blog is relentlessly positive, containing hardly any reports of disappointing encounters. Does it misrepresent? I do not think so. I am hardly ever disappointed. This is a theme worth exploring, connecting expectation, performance, attitudes, reactions. But like so many things worth exploring, it will have to be left unexplored. For who has time even to blog, when they are so busy being a lazy fornicator?
Thursday, October 12, 2006
Stained glass, sunshine, mirrors
The stained glass was in the Little Church of the Transfiguration, where Z and I met in the late morning, lit a candle, sat, talked, and made out for an hour or so. Then we walked and rolled west towards the Liberty Inn, first heading out onto Pier 54 to make out some more, and to bask in the intermittent sun.
No room at the Inn! Or anyway, no ground-floor room ready - for of course all the rooms on the second and third floors are no use to Z. So we went off for lunch, returning an hour or so later.
After our last encounter at the Liberty, I had some performance anxiety, and because so many things are different with Z, it did take some time for everything to fall into place. The room had mirrors on the wall to one side of the bed, and also on the ceiling, and Z was initially unsure that she could cope with those. I had some issues sustaining an erection. But I still basked in the constant sunshine of Z's beauty and desirability, and everything culminated in a truly wonderful fuck that took us through to the end of our three hours.
Description is always inadequate, and words like 'wonderful' and 'amazing' are just cheers, without any content. Z asked about differences between one cunt and another. Despite her lack of sensation, her cunt was delightfully changeable. Variations in wetness, tightness, the grip sometimes seeming concentrated in a ring near the lips, with a void space beyond, but other times feeling like a sleeve pulled tightly around the whole length of my cock. It was very good to work the angles, explore with the head of my cock or bury myself deep inside her. I am sure that future fucks will be even more interesting, intense, informative.
Sunshine, then, both literal - on the pier, sitting outside at lunch - and metaphorical. Mirrors, metaphorical and literal. What Z cannot feel cannot be accessed through other senses, but she can see herself being fucked in the mirror, and see her desirability reflected in my desire and delight. I can only tell her what I feel, but this would be true anyway. Sex with another person always contains at its heart this mystery, that each person knows only what it feels like for them, but not how it feels for the other. With Z - this really was a kind of revelation to me - the mystery is deeper, and stranger. I know what it feels like for me as I fuck her, even though I cannot really describe these sensations to her; she knows neither how it feels for me, except in so far as I succeed in telling her, nor how it feels for her. So Z and I are in almost the same position with respect to her sensations, and this made fucking her strangely symmetrical, even though this is in turn rooted in a radical asymmetry. Very interesting intellectually - but also a truly great fuck. Ideas and sex are the two things I love, and here they lie nestled within each other.
No room at the Inn! Or anyway, no ground-floor room ready - for of course all the rooms on the second and third floors are no use to Z. So we went off for lunch, returning an hour or so later.
After our last encounter at the Liberty, I had some performance anxiety, and because so many things are different with Z, it did take some time for everything to fall into place. The room had mirrors on the wall to one side of the bed, and also on the ceiling, and Z was initially unsure that she could cope with those. I had some issues sustaining an erection. But I still basked in the constant sunshine of Z's beauty and desirability, and everything culminated in a truly wonderful fuck that took us through to the end of our three hours.
Description is always inadequate, and words like 'wonderful' and 'amazing' are just cheers, without any content. Z asked about differences between one cunt and another. Despite her lack of sensation, her cunt was delightfully changeable. Variations in wetness, tightness, the grip sometimes seeming concentrated in a ring near the lips, with a void space beyond, but other times feeling like a sleeve pulled tightly around the whole length of my cock. It was very good to work the angles, explore with the head of my cock or bury myself deep inside her. I am sure that future fucks will be even more interesting, intense, informative.
Sunshine, then, both literal - on the pier, sitting outside at lunch - and metaphorical. Mirrors, metaphorical and literal. What Z cannot feel cannot be accessed through other senses, but she can see herself being fucked in the mirror, and see her desirability reflected in my desire and delight. I can only tell her what I feel, but this would be true anyway. Sex with another person always contains at its heart this mystery, that each person knows only what it feels like for them, but not how it feels for the other. With Z - this really was a kind of revelation to me - the mystery is deeper, and stranger. I know what it feels like for me as I fuck her, even though I cannot really describe these sensations to her; she knows neither how it feels for me, except in so far as I succeed in telling her, nor how it feels for her. So Z and I are in almost the same position with respect to her sensations, and this made fucking her strangely symmetrical, even though this is in turn rooted in a radical asymmetry. Very interesting intellectually - but also a truly great fuck. Ideas and sex are the two things I love, and here they lie nestled within each other.
Tuesday, October 10, 2006
Quickies
Saturday, nothing.
Sunday, an ill-advised quickie with A in my office. We both agree, by e-mail, that this was a bit of a mistake, as with us a quick fix is not satisfying at all. Not our finest moment, and surely driven by the fact that she is going off for almost two weeks, to the west coast and then for a weekend somewhere. We are therefore unlikely to be together again until Tuesday 24th.
Monday, I went to see Shortbus with Z. This is not a movie review site. The group sex scene seemed a lot more fun than the 'midweek playgroup' that A, K and I visited a while back.
Today, D picked me up and we messed around in the back of her car. On the first day of her period and with no chance of cleaning up, she kept pretty much all her clothes on and the main business of the day was a long, long blowjob. But in one break she sat on my leg and rubbed herself against me while I pinched her nipples, until she came. It took me a while to come to the point of ejaculation, but it happened eventually, after series of my trademark dry orgasms.
Sunday, an ill-advised quickie with A in my office. We both agree, by e-mail, that this was a bit of a mistake, as with us a quick fix is not satisfying at all. Not our finest moment, and surely driven by the fact that she is going off for almost two weeks, to the west coast and then for a weekend somewhere. We are therefore unlikely to be together again until Tuesday 24th.
Monday, I went to see Shortbus with Z. This is not a movie review site. The group sex scene seemed a lot more fun than the 'midweek playgroup' that A, K and I visited a while back.
Today, D picked me up and we messed around in the back of her car. On the first day of her period and with no chance of cleaning up, she kept pretty much all her clothes on and the main business of the day was a long, long blowjob. But in one break she sat on my leg and rubbed herself against me while I pinched her nipples, until she came. It took me a while to come to the point of ejaculation, but it happened eventually, after series of my trademark dry orgasms.
Saturday, October 07, 2006
Weekending
But not a weak ending at all. I went to the Kew Motor Inn on Friday around 1.30 pm and got a room, and smoked some pot while waiting for D. I was stoned just enough for that strange time dilation to kick in, so the minutes waiting for her seemed long, and the anticipation was really quite intense. So when she did arrive, I went straight at her, up against the wall. We have never been able to fuck standing up though, so we moved to the bed where I fucked her from behind. And so began another two-and-a-half hours of intense oral, anal, fucking with D.
As usual, the details are by now blurry. In several intense sessions of cunt-eating I felt as if my entire being was intent on driving her from one orgasm to the next, and while this was not exactly violent or coercive, there was something aggressive and overriding about it - enjoyable, but perhaps a little frightening as well. I think over the course of the afternoon I gave her clit as intense a workout as I have ever done, or at least packed more into a shorter time than ever before. Yet we also did a lot of fucking, some fairly prolonged and delightful ass-fucking, and she also gave me a couple of top-drawer blowjobs. At the end, when it was already time to leave, she went down on me and we ended up fucking again, only to be interrupted by the desk-clerk with the fifteen-minute warning. But D pleaded for 'ten more strokes' so we went at it again until I came, pulling out and ejaculating on her belly.
The mirrored room is not entirely useless to me, but unless I put my glasses on I can see little but unfocussed figures fucking. If I do put my glasses on then I look disturbingly old, but D and I do look very good together. She is incredibly flexible and supple, so we end up in positions that look extraordinarily uncomfortable and yet are not at all.
Now it is the weekend proper, and so there is nothing to report, nothing in prospect. The week to come? A is going to the west coast for almost two weeks. I hope to spend as much time as I can with Z. And perhaps there will be other adventures as well.
As usual, the details are by now blurry. In several intense sessions of cunt-eating I felt as if my entire being was intent on driving her from one orgasm to the next, and while this was not exactly violent or coercive, there was something aggressive and overriding about it - enjoyable, but perhaps a little frightening as well. I think over the course of the afternoon I gave her clit as intense a workout as I have ever done, or at least packed more into a shorter time than ever before. Yet we also did a lot of fucking, some fairly prolonged and delightful ass-fucking, and she also gave me a couple of top-drawer blowjobs. At the end, when it was already time to leave, she went down on me and we ended up fucking again, only to be interrupted by the desk-clerk with the fifteen-minute warning. But D pleaded for 'ten more strokes' so we went at it again until I came, pulling out and ejaculating on her belly.
The mirrored room is not entirely useless to me, but unless I put my glasses on I can see little but unfocussed figures fucking. If I do put my glasses on then I look disturbingly old, but D and I do look very good together. She is incredibly flexible and supple, so we end up in positions that look extraordinarily uncomfortable and yet are not at all.
Now it is the weekend proper, and so there is nothing to report, nothing in prospect. The week to come? A is going to the west coast for almost two weeks. I hope to spend as much time as I can with Z. And perhaps there will be other adventures as well.
Thursday, October 05, 2006
Hidden in plain sight
Periodically, but especially under pressure from the questions and probings of others, I contemplate the propriety of this blog. A private journal, hidden in the safest place of all, where anyone can stumble across it? A hook hung to see what bait it attracts? An exercise in vanity and boasting? A document, no less but no more tainted than others, to be made use of by whoever is inclined? All of the above?
I will be perfunctory.
Yesterday, A. Two hours at the Liberty Inn, with memories of Z hanging over me and, by dint of my conversation, over A as well. But a lot of fun, and a confirmation that though we may have hit a peak that cannot be surpassed last Thursday, still the uplands that we normally inhabit are magnificent.
At night, a really good intra-marital fuck with C, preceded by my massaging her legs and then going down on her. I am slowly extending the duration of our fucks too, partly deliberately. But I come more easily, more quickly, with her than with anyone.
Today, J, who had a day off work. Over the course of four hours we did a huge amount of fucking and I seem to have done some damage to my left knee. Being with J is so totally different from being with A that it is almost comical. But both are utterly wonderful to fuck. J is less active, though not more submissive.
Tomorrow, D.
I will be perfunctory.
Yesterday, A. Two hours at the Liberty Inn, with memories of Z hanging over me and, by dint of my conversation, over A as well. But a lot of fun, and a confirmation that though we may have hit a peak that cannot be surpassed last Thursday, still the uplands that we normally inhabit are magnificent.
At night, a really good intra-marital fuck with C, preceded by my massaging her legs and then going down on her. I am slowly extending the duration of our fucks too, partly deliberately. But I come more easily, more quickly, with her than with anyone.
Today, J, who had a day off work. Over the course of four hours we did a huge amount of fucking and I seem to have done some damage to my left knee. Being with J is so totally different from being with A that it is almost comical. But both are utterly wonderful to fuck. J is less active, though not more submissive.
Tomorrow, D.
Tuesday, October 03, 2006
Mystery in the meatpacking district
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