Running Up That Hill

Last Friday was an interruption to my standard pattern, as I did not spend the afternoon at the Kew Motor Inn with D. This Friday, everything was back to normal - though 'normal' is not really a word that can ever be used in relation to sex with D. Here is her report, pasted in (without her knowledge) from her recap e-mail to me:

I think everytime I attempt the daunting task of writing a recap, after one of these afternoons at the Kew, I simply think I can not do it. If I try to remember really hard about what transpired in the hours between 1 and 4 I can remember how we started, how we ended, some things in between. But there are no words that can describe these hours at the Kew when we get stoned and get to be together.

I love this part of my life, the time that I get to drive my car from my job and find you. I love the short ride to the Kew and how it only takes minutes to get from the car to a room where we can first kiss and touch each other. I love to get stoned with you and talk first about what we are about to do. We started talking about this, and I remember saying to you that this was great sex, this conversation about masturbating in front of eachother that we were having. Of course you knew exactly what I was talking about. It was wonderful to spread my legs in front of you on the floor and show you my cunt. I know you adore it so much, and I have grown to adore it too. My ability to make myself come with my fingers is a testament to that. But it is also very personal in a way that sets it apart from my vibrators. When I thought of doing it in front of you last night I thought of (believe it or not) you sitting in back of me on the bed, facing the mirrors like we did when I jerked you off. I thought of you holding back my legs and spreading my cuntlips apart with your fingers. And then my finger rubbing my clit while we watched together in the mirror. But then when we got stoned together I kind of clammed up thinking about it. I know we will do that, perhaps the next time at the Kew.

So for this time I sat you on the floor facing me. I started rubbing my clit, looking down at my cunt, seeing me all open and pink for you. But I don't remember how I came. I know you were doing something to me. As I told you it often takes me a long time to come this way. And I wanted to come and it was so tempting to have you right there before me. I know you cannot resist me sexually, and you were just dying to touch me, lick me, smell me. That is always what makes me so crazy horny, your expertise with my body and how we read each other's minds sexually. I came, and we kissed and held each other. We moved over to the bed and we began the most amazing fucking. You on top of me, pushing your way into my tight cunt. Soon I was very wet and you slipped in and out of me slowly. I began to come again and again. You were grinding on my clit and looking at me, so happy. We were as close as two people could be. We fucked for a long, long time. At one point you suspected I might be tired so you warned me that you would continue to fuck me. And then we had our little "fuck me harder" battle... and we both won as that morphed into a soft erotic fuck after we became so heated we could do nothing more but switch gears.

Most of the afternoon we spent having oral sex. I sat on your face at first and then you ate me out while I sat up on the bed for a very long time. I must have come tens of times. The orgasms were just rolling over one after the next. I was really enjoying how relaxed it was, how I knew you would spend as much time between my legs licking my cunt as I wanted. How you would not stop. How much you enjoy giving to me in this way, and how much you take from my experience which is ours together.

Then I got crafty, with the musical blowjob stuff. The first song, Desert Rose, I think is very erotic . . . a safe, maybe anyone can do it, classic musical blowjob (MBJ) song. I have listened to that song so many times stoned on my deck, imagining sucking your cock. I hope I did as good a job as I have always wanted to do when I imagined it. You were shaking and moaning and climaxing over and over. And then Fragile, and of course I have sucked your cock many times to that song. And so I think that along with this building that occurred from the other song, and the soft guitar guiding my tongue on the head of your cock , my hands up and down your shaft. You nearly exploded. And then, Running up that Hill . . . I think that was your favorite because it connected you to the past and as you said, it put me back there with you. That is pretty cool and a really great way to listen to this music now. I wonder if you listened on the way home on the subway? But perhaps you had to start the detoxification.

I never sat on your cock! How did that happen? I did however get fucked continually and at one point you started talking to me about how clever I am, how I continue to amaze you, how we are so good for each other in all these different kinds of ways that make it so wonderful to be together. You were just so adoring of me today, and I felt so loved and adored. I can't tell you how happy I was to see you. I was starving for you.

I loved jerking you off in front of the mirror, holding you in my arms. That was the perfect ending to a perfect day for me. I adore you so much and I love to see you so comfortable with me, so relaxed and yet incredibly excited in my arms with my hand jerking your cock. You had to come for me.

So that is my recap. Thank you, my very dear friend and very best lover. D

D is right that it is hard to reconstruct these intense sessions. Part of that is being stoned, but only part, for it is almost as hard to remember the order and details of equivalently intense and active sessions when we were not stoned. Sex is not memorable, as I have observed before. D's recap fails to capture what our time together was like, but not through any failing that could be remedied by better note-taking or more complete recall. Each entry in this blog that recounts some sexual encounter or other fails in similar fashion.

Besides all the activity mentioned by D, there was one round of ass-fucking, or two if you count a change of position as constituting the end of one round and the start of another. The very first thing that we did was stand next to the mirror and kiss and make out, feeling each other up through our clothes. D kept her clothes on while we got stoned, but I removed mine. I sat at her feet while we smoked, and we talked about how she jerked off at home. I took off her shoes, and eventually helped her out of her hose and the tight, short black skirt she was wearing, so she was in her pale blue lace panties, but still with her blouse on. I unbuttoned that, and played with her nipples inside her white, lacy bra. She then took off her panties, sat on the floor facing me, and started fingering herself.

By deciding that her first orgasm should be from her own hand, and that I should not touch her at all until she had come, I turned myself into a spectator - but not a passive one, for of course D and I could talk, I could tell how pretty and pink and tempting her cunt was, how wonderful she looked with her legs spread, her fingers methodically working her clit. The noli me tangere rule got broken, however, as D asked me to pinch and tweak her nipples, and it was that as much as anything she was doing to her clit that took her over the edge.

The 'fuck me harder' contest was fun, but D is generous in describing it as a draw, as it was really a victory for her. She can take harder fucking than I can give her, for longer than I can give it to her. This is true whether it is her cunt I am fucking or her ass.

There was a great deal of oral sex, as D says. The musical blow jobs were not quite as intense, as the splitter was not working properly, so we were only getting the left channel. But still extraordinary, exhilarating, ecstatic. I am at my noisiest under those conditions - stoned, listening to loud music, with D relentlessly working my cock with her mouth and her hand. The music provides a level of ambient sound that makes it easier for me to vocalize my pleasure in moans and gasps and groans and shouts. By contrast, D is quieter when music is playing, at her noisiest when I go down on her, wrap my arms around her thighs and refuse to let go of her clit with my lips and tongue. That kind of determined and forceful pleasuring is something I am driven to do by an urge deep within me, and not something that could easily be elicited by attention to music as well as to D's sexual response. So perhaps she is quieter when music is playing because my approach to her is generally quieter under those conditions.

We were in a room with a high bed, and so did some edge of the bed fucking, first ass fucking and then cunt fucking. At this point, D's armpit hair is luxuriant, and she does look incredibly sexy lying on the bed in the half-light, arms raised above her head, with my cock driving into her cunt or her ass. If I lean back slightly, she gets no clitoral stimulation and so cannot quite make it to the point of no-return, and it is fun to play with delay. But after a while, D demanded that I lean forward to allow her to synchronize her pelvic movements with mine and to generate enough pressure to get herself off. She can do this about as easily whether my cock is in her cunt or her ass in this position.

The final handjob was very joyful - I put my glasses on so I could see clearly, and sat close to the edge of the bed, facing the mirror. D sat right behind me, one leg either side, put her right arm around me and took my cock in her left hand. Resting her head on my shoulder, she could see just what I could see. At some point she changed hands, and jerked my cock until I came. Though this had the formal structure of a 'money shot', the mood and tone was utterly at odds with anything in porn: affectionate, amused, light-hearted, happy, and playful. But it was also fucking hot to watch.

Enough

I understand what it means to have had enough to eat. I also understand what it means to have had enough to drink, though acting on that understanding is sometimes difficult. A long day's work is often quite enough work for one day; perhaps even more often, half a day's work or less is enough work for one day. I do not have enough money, but still, I think there is such a thing as enough money, and I have almost enough. In all these uses, 'enough' makes sense to me; I know how the word works. But 'enough sex' is an expression that is dead to me. I cannot imagine what it means.

I suppose that having had enough sex would manifest itself in not wanting any more - and that is not something that happens with me. If I cannot get it up, and so cannot fuck, still I can be fucked myself, or else I can use my mouth or my hands on the person I am with. If I am not capable of being pleased myself - but that is not something that I understand either - still I am capable of pleasing, and that is enough to make it true that I have not yet had enough. If I could have sex 24/7/52, I would at some point opt for something else. I would read, would listen to music, would walk in the park. But as sex is not available continuously, there is plenty of time for those other activities anyway. And some time does have to to be devoted to work, to family, to sleep.

I have mused before on the notion of addiction in relation to sex, and how different so-called 'sex-addiction' is from classic forms of addiction such as alcoholism or smoking, where the treatment model for overcoming addiction is total abstinence. This model would only make sense for sex-addiction if sex is in itself bad, and justified only for the purpose of reproduction. I do not think this is a crazy view, and it seems to have been St Paul's position, and that of many other Christians. But as there is no reason to think that sex is bad in itself, and as we can easily sever the connection between sex and reproduction, this view can be ignored.

Someone who spends a few hours a day masturbating, taking time and effort away from work and family and friends, would probably be thought to have a problem. I am not sure why. It depends on how they jerk off, I think. If it is wanking fuelled by violent pornography or degrading fantasies, done guiltily and furtively, accompanied by shame, it is problematic. But if done happily, out of love for one's own pleasure and the joy of sexual self-expression, I cannot see much that could be wrong. Addiction to bad sex is bad, but addiction to good sex is good: that means it is not a case of addiction at all.

Can there be too much good sex? Only if there is an answer to the question: how much good sex is enough? When D and I have had a long time together, we have fucked about as much as it is humanly possible to fuck in the time available. Our trip upstate more than a year ago, for example, contained about as much fucking as could have been fitted into the time, given the need to travel, to eat, to sleep at least an hour or two. But that was a special occasion, honeymoon-like. The nights or weekends that I have been able to spend with D or F or A are also unrepresentative, setting a sexual pace that could not be maintained over a longer period. For a more representative sample, take a few days at random; say, yesterday, today, and tomorrow.

Yesterday: I fucked C in the morning before going to work - fifteen or twenty minutes of fucking, in the course of which she came and then I did. Then in the afternoon, D came to my office and we went at each other for about seventy-five or eighty minutes, with hardly a break. Cunt-fucking, ass-fucking, cunt-eating, cock-sucking. She came any number of times, I came just once.

Today: somewhat excessive, as I spent two hours with Q at the Liberty Inn, which was quite stunning. The active sex was perhaps only ninety minutes, but a huge amount got done in that time. Then, somewhat later, I spent a brief hour with F, all of it devoted to one sex-act or another. And then I spent approaching two hours with J, though chunks of time in that period were spent talking.

Tomorrow: as far as I know, the day's activities will be confined to a visit to Q at her home, for around two hours.

Too much? Well, today I was a little stretched out even by the time I got to F, as Q is really amazing, and a big drain on resources. But even with J, I managed to get it up for long enough to give her a decent fucking - the best fuck she has had since the last time I fucked her, she said.

I understand that, in the absence of wealth sufficient to permit it, a life devoted entirely to sexual pleasure is not possible. I have to work, and given that I have to work, it matters that I do it well rather than badly. So one criterion for assessing whether some amount of sex is too much is whether it has a deleterious effect on my work. And that is hard to determine - it is true that I shirk some duties in order to fuck, and others I do more hastily, less carefully. On the other hand, it is easy to do about as well as anyone else does while maintaining an over-active sex-life. I may be a shirker, but so are many of my colleagues, and they are not having as much fun as I am (or at least, they surely don't look as if they are).

I have more sex than most people do, and perhaps that is all that 'too much sex' means. But I like sex, and I am quite good at it, and there is not much else that I like that I am good at. So it is not surprising that I devote more time, energy, and attention to it than most people.

Interleavings

After a session together, D sometimes sends me a recap, which I return with my own comments interleaved. Sometimes I do the recap and she interleaves, as here:

Dear D,

Though I couldn't see, I am pretty confident that I have never produced as much seed as in that last series of ejaculations - certainly the most amazing handjob I have ever had. A wonderful way to finish three crazed and ecstatic hours together.

Yea, that was fucking hot! Sitting on your face like that jerking you off as you shot your hot come all over my body. I do like all that come all over me especially right before we have to part. It's a way I get to keep you.

Remember the first fucking - when you just impaled yourself on my cock and worked your way down it until you could grind your clit against me, and propel yourself up the slope to the first peak? You fucked me hard and long, coming any number of times. We watched ourselves in the mirror, you riding my cock through wave after wave of pleasure. Remember also when I was holding you tight against me? You on top is not one sexual position but a whole set of them, depending on how you angle your cunt against me, how I angle my pelvis, how much you sit up, lean back, lean forward.

I was happy to climb on top of you and impale myself on your erect cock. I wanted to do that since the second I left you on Wednesday, I kept thinking about it. The elation when I am riding your cock is very unique, just like ass fucking, sitting on your face , you eating me out in the chair, you fucking me on top... they are all different in their own way. But riding your cock and knowing that was the first way I orgasmed when fucking, and how far I have come since then... I just want to get there as soon as I'm on. And I know exactly how to make myself come now, with exact precision so I just completely use you for my own pleasure. And you just love it! So that is very sexy to me.

I think we went from you on top to me on top, and when we took the first break - when you took the first break, I should say - we had done nothing but fuck. No oral either way. I think I had come once, and you had come a bunch of times.

My god we fucked for an hour! You were so exhausted that you didn't even eat me out when I was on that chair smoking. I didn't like that.

After that, we had a lot of oral - you sitting on my face, me going down on you, you sucking my cock, and also another of our attempts at 69, which ended up as usual with you blowing through a series of orgasms. I know I go at you hard, relentlessly, and I do sometimes worry if I am little too rough, but I always think that each time is unique, and if I stop, I will never find out what would have happened if I had carried on. What will your next orgasm be like, given that you seemed almost to pass out during the last one? Let's find out! What will happen if I fuck you even harder, or start thrusting rather than grinding, or move to fucking your cunt from your ass, etc. There is always more to try, more to do.

I know darling but you are relentless. You are never too rough though. I want to get as much out of you as I can too, but you are much more driven.

The ass-fucking was certainly relentless, and again watching in the mirror was great - your ass, still or bucking up towards me in response, my hips driving my cock into your ass again and again, my body above yours, your body given over to my pleasure and yet taking all the pleasure you can yourself. You are indeed a strong and powerful sexual woman, D - just as much when you are taking a heavy pounding in the ass as when you are riding my cock to the point of exhaustion. Am I right that you came from that anal penetration without any direct clitoral stimulation at all, when I was fucking your ass deep and steadily?

No.. I did not come in the way of a clitoral orgasm. But often when you ass fuck me like that I feel like I'm coming in another way. It is hard to describe , it is the sensation of being completely filled up by you and open. It is wonderful. I want to do that all the time. I loved watching you fuck me like that. I can't wait to do that again.

I came in your ass, I am sure - but maybe it was an orgasm without ejeculation, like the (two?) orgasms I had during that long blowjob that you gave me.

I LOVE to suck your cock like that. I did such a good job sucking your cock today.

Eating you out in the chair, your feet on my shoulders, your cunt positioned precisely at the edge of the seat so that I can use my lips, my tongue, my chin on you. Again, we just went right back to work after you came, and it was from the chair that we moved to the bed so you could sit on my face for the first time - so there were definitely at least two separate sessions of face-sitting. You know that eating you out in a chair is one of my real favourites, and today I think I did more clit-sucking than ever before. There were a couple of times when I had your clit and the hood and the whole upper part of your outer cunt-lips sucked into my mouth, and I was flicking the very end of your clit with my tongue. When I fucked you after the face-sitting I think you were as wet as you have ever been.

Oh my god, it is so hard not to have that right now! I wish I could be with you in the middle of the night, to wake up and just start fucking.

You watched me tonguing your clit, you watched yourself sitting on my cock, my face, you watched yourself sucking my cock, being fucked hard in the cunt, the ass - all of it so amazingly natural and beautiful. I am not sure if the shrieking from next door was a porno movie, someone faking, or someone fucking, but I did not mind it at all, except that it seemed to bother you a little. Yet there is nothing that could possibly have taken my sexual interest away from you today D. Whatever goes on in other rooms at the Kew - those threesomes or foursomes or moresomes, or stranger things - are of no consequence. I love the three hours spent squeezing every drop of pleasure out of you that I can.

Well I think someone was watching a loud movie. So I'm very happy that we have never watched TV at the Kew or anywhere else. Us watching porn... we rather make our own porn. That , we should do. When I fuck you with a strap on that looks really hot... I would like to watch that! I'm sorry there was no time for that today... we need four hours at least. Otherwise we just do the three hour routine.

That huge ejaculation - I think I have done that before, maybe that time at the Grand Union when we were in the room with about four beds. I came three times in quick succession. Today, I was not holding back exactly, but I let you drag me to the point where I had to give you every drop that I could, and that somehow stretched the orgasm out, or distributed into distinct phases. It was a lot of fun.

Yes... lately when I sit on your face you get so turned on you have to come. Remember when I sat on your face today and you said it was the best orgasm you ever had and you didn't even come. Ohhh.. that was so sweet.....

Fridays at the Kew are great, aren't they?

We love them very much ... but I'll take you anywhere.


What is the point of recapping? The same, perhaps, as the point of blogging - the futile attempt to hold on to what is already gone. Sex changes nothing, and leaves no trace; once over, it might as well have never taken place. But once written about, this is no longer true. I can delete this blog when I wish, and also every e-mail I have ever received; perhaps I can eradicate all records. Still, someone has read this post meanwhile, and that trace remains.

Addiction

In the back of the car today, D explained that my offer of a couple of weeks ago to put my cock under her control was classic addictive behavior - looking for an external constraint rather than an internal one. But the offer was not serious: I was stoned, and high on D as well, and of course I didn't mean to grant her control over intra-marital sex anyway, and wouldn't have stopped seeing F. But perhaps it is also classic addictive behavior to look for an external control but nevertheless evade it.

I have complained before about the lazy use of the language of addiction in relation to sex. I know what addiction is like. I smoked for thirty years. I am an alcoholic, or damn close to it. These are chemical dependencies. It is better to reduce the number of cigarettes smoked if you cannot stop altogether, but stopping altogether is the ideal. With alcohol, there is more robust content to the notion of a moderate, sensible user - but still the dominant model of treatment for alcoholism is total abstinence.

Should sex addicts give up sex altogether, and become entirely celibate? No extra- or intra-marital fucking, no porn, no masturbation? The last time I did that, which was a long, long time ago, I had some amazing wet dreams, so there is definitely something to be said for it. The best of those dreams was about SB, a woman I knew in college, and who I still occasionally jerk off thinking about. But what most therapists would set as a goal for me is to contain sex within my marriage. For the unmarried sex addict, the goal would be to establish intimate relationships within which sex is contained, and to have such relationships in series rather than parallel. This is transparently a moral program rather than a medical one. And it makes no real sense if sex addiction is really an addiction.

My behavior is, I admit, quite crazy at times. Going from a night with F to a morning with D at the weekend seemed rather nuts even to me, before I did it. Yet in the event, it was wonderful - a delightful, langorous time with F from midnight to dawn; a little break to shave and shower; then a bloody, spectacular couple of hours with D. The addict supposedly gets diminishing returns from each dose of her drug. My returns from sex seem only to increase. Sex gets better the more you have of it, I have found.

So I have been having more - but not as much more as I would like. A very pleasant, stretched-out fuck with C on Monday morning, that lasted around twenty minutes, including a bout from behind. Two hours of continuous activity with F on Monday afternoon, which really sped by. An hour or so of back-of-the-car sex with D on Tuesday afternoon, with a frantic, ass-pounding finale. I would have had more if I could. But there is more to come. Watch this space.

A pain in the ass

Why is anal sex so appealing? And to what extent is its appeal to do with the fact that it is forbidden, and dirty, and difficult (as Candy claims, in a recent comment)? I do not know the answer to these questions in general, or for anyone else. But I am confident about the answers to them in my own case.

Anal sex is appealing because it feels really good. I have admitted elsewhere on this blog that I have, on rare occasions, been uncertain which orifice I occupied. And it has often been true that I am indifferent between cunt and ass - I want my cock in one or the other, and don't mind which. Either feels great, and I can't fuck both (unless I use the strap-on, which I have done once with D). I don't think any of the pleasure I get from fucking D or F in the ass has to do with it being forbidden, or dirty. D had never been fucked in the ass by anyone before me, I remain the only man who has fucked her ass, and there is definitely something pleasing about that fact. If D wanted to give her ass to another man I would be happy for her to do so, but meanwhile I enjoy the fact that I am the only man to have felt her ass grip my cock, to have come in her ass and had my seed leaking out of her as she drove home, to have known her in that way. What here has to do with filth, or the forbidden?

What about the pain, the submission, the subjection? Well, there is no doubt that something of this sort is going on, most of the time. Here I have rather little direct insight; I have been fucked with the strap-on by D on a number of occasions, by A a couple of times, by F just once. In each case, what was so pleasing was being fucked, in the only way that I could be fucked. Whatever pleasures derive from the forbidden in those episodes has little to do with the fact that it is my ass that is being fucked - where else could I be penetrated, after all? - and nothing to do with the category of the unclean. But it is certainly enjoyable to lie back and spread my legs and be fucked hard, to open myself in that way. The pain is sexual pain, or sexualized pain, and there is something very deep and powerful about that. And when I am fucking someone in the ass, and so on the giving rather than the receiving end, I enjoy the subjection, the submission, the sexualized pain.

But none of the pleasure of anal sex for me has to do with either prohibition or disgust. Shit is just shit, an entirely innocent substance, and most of the demonization of shit as a source of contamination is scientific nonsense. Eating shit is certainly healthier than eating hot dogs at Yankee Stadium, for example. Is anal sex especially forbidden? Here the question is, forbidden by whom?

There are a few people who think that all sex is forbidden. The Shakers, for example. There are many who think all sex besides vaginal sex between husband and wife (or wives) is forbidden. Is anal sex between husband and wife more forbidden than vaginal sex between a man and a woman who are not married to each other (and not married to anyone else either)? What about anal sex between two men - and does it matter whether it is between two men who are in husband and wife roles (as so often in prison or the navy) or two men who identify as gay?

When I fuck D in the ass, I do not believe that the pleasure, the delight, the sense of mastery on my part and abandonment on hers, has any thing to do with the opinions of people who, if they knew what we were up to, would disapprove of everything that we do together. People who think ass-fucking is forbidden and filthy mean nothing to me; they do not matter enough to factor into what I desire even inversely. I do not remember when I first stuck a finger up my ass while jerking off, but it was a long, long time ago. It felt good. I have fucked both men and women in the ass, and that has always felt good too. If there is an extra thrill that derives from the fact that people who are opposed to sexual pleasure in general are also opposed to anal sex, it is at most a trivial addition.

Carpet crawlers

I saw F on Wednesday and Thursday, and then D in a mirror room at the Kew Motor Inn on Friday. D and F are the only women I fuck regularly these days other than my wife. The attempts I make to find new recruits never go anywhere, and I am rather lazy about it, but I do make them. I am not sure why I find two an unsatisfactory number of extra-marital regulars, but I continually think that I should either add to the number or else make up my mind and scale back to just one. Were I to do that, I would certainly choose D. F is wonderful, and extremely convenient. But D, even after a year and two-thirds, continues to surprise me, and when I am with her, I continue to surprise myself.

Friday afternoon at the Kew with D, though it has ritualistic and hence repetitive elements, is always fresh, unpredictable, startling. D spends the days in between our meetings in anticipation, and she likes to make plans, if only to fuel her fantasies. This time, her plan was for musical blowjobs - something that we have done before, but not for a while. So I brought along a Y-splitter for her iPod, and my iPod also.

First, though, we got significantly stoned, and I took off all my clothes except my boxer-briefs (boring, white ones, if you care to visualize). Somehow we fell into roleplay in which D kept her clothes on and continually delayed touching my cock while I told her how much I wanted to feel her mouth on me, and how I could not stand to wait any longer. Having a little more discipline than me, and being mildly better at delaying gratification, she made me wait a while, but eventually she began sucking my cock. Stoned blowjobs are always great, and this was wonderful. But not the musical blowjob she had planned. That came later. D took off her jeans and panties and sat on my cock - this was after I pointed out that if we went straight to the musical blowjob she would have to delay orgasm for herself. Surely it was better for her to sit on my cock and ride it until she came, and then to turn to the musical blowjob in a more contented state? She proceeded to have three orgasms, of increasing intensity. I encouraged her to go for one more, and when she began coming for the fourth time I came precisely alongside her, releasing what felt like huge gouts of seed inside her. We have come together while fucking a few times by now, but this was the most self-conscious simultaneous orgasm we have ever had - deliberate and reflective, even though also ecstatic and blinding.

D lifted herself off my cock and lay down on me, her head on my stomach (her right breast, still in her red cotton top, rested on my crotch, so she acquired a large stain from the come and cunt-juice coating my cock). After a little while, she sat in the chair and smoked a cigarette, while I set up the iPod. But once I had done that, while she was still smoking, it seemed silly not to sit on the floor between her legs and smell and taste her cunt, and then eat it, gently at first, and then more aggressively, until she came.

After that, the musical blowjob - actually three in a row, as after the first song we decided to explore a couple of different kinds of song. So D worked my cock with her lips and tongue and fingers first to 'Carpet Crawlers', then 'Born to Run', and then - my choice this time, and from my iPod - Massive Attack's 'Teardrop'. The Springsteen was perhaps least successful, but still amazingly good; I am not a huge fan, but it did seem a good idea to associate it for evermore with D and her considerable cock-sucking skills. In each case, though there were times when I could attend to the music only at the cost of not attending to my cock, or vice versa, there were also long intervals when I could focus on both, as if I could sense the music through my cock, or through D's lips and tongue on my cock as she sensed it too. It is hard to describe this blending, and I think it happens partly just because of sensory overload. Getting stoned turns up the volume with all senses, and with the music playing very loud, with that headphone-induced feeling that the music is inside my head, my eyes closed, my body perfectly relaxed, I became only my ears and my cock, and the consciousness of sound and sensation. I would urge everyone to try it. It works well the other way too, as we proved when I went down on D to Annie Lennox's 'Why'. That was interesting because the lyrics introduced elements of conflict, wistfulness, complaint, sadness, disappointment. These are emotions that are not often present in sex (or not good sex, anyway) and yet they seemed to belong there just as much as the emotions of connection, joy, delight, happiness, contentment. The ideal sexual relationship is the one in which every emotion gets expressed during sex, and music functions well to enable that, at least if it is loud enough and I am stoned enough.

Because D and I had four hours to spend, there was still lots more to come, including another simultaneous orgasm when I was on top of D and fucking her relentlessly. I came a third time in her ass, almost at the end of our time together (only almost at the end, because D insisted on another bout of cunt-eating as I was about to head for the shower). There was, as always, a lot of face-sitting; I had D's panties and jeans on at another point; we also looked at ourselves in the ceiling mirrors while I played with D's nipples and she played with her clit.

D's women friends are, she says, typically incredulous when she tells them that we have sex for four hours straight with hardly any breaks, that I will not even let her smoke a cigarette without eating her cunt while she smokes, that she demands, and gets, another orgasm or two even when time is almost up. Stranger still, many of her friends do not even find the idea of sex like that appealing. It is hard to want what you have never yet had, especially if you do not believe it can ever he had. But it can be had, for D and I have had it. Once you have had it, it is hard not to want a lot more of it.

Routine physical

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Welcome mat

Yesterday I spent a couple of hours with F, doing most of the things that we usually do, but no anal. Today, when I arrived, she had courteously lubricated herself so that I could begin by unzipping and working my cock into her asshole right away. I simply bent her over the bed and fucked her ass. After a short while, she lay on her back and I fucked her ass while on top of her, her legs hiked up over my shoulders. She has come once before while doing this, but towards the end of a long session. Today her first orgasm came this way (and her second too).

Foreplay? None. Or the foreplay is simply the anticipation that she feels waiting for me to arrive, that I feel travelling to her in the cab. Today I was ready to fuck as soon as I arrived. The same is typically true with D. Canonical foreplay activities - fingering, oral - are usually second acts with F or D. Sometimes, after fucking for a while, I soften up a little, and then it makes sense to do something that does not require a hard cock. But it is also true, especially with D, that one thing leads to another, and after she has come while I am going down on her, or she is sitting on my face, she likes to be fucked.

At the moment, I seem to have no time, and not much opportunity, to fuck anyone besides D and F (and, of course, C). I have not seen A in weeks. J is inaccessible thanks to scheduling issues. I do not quite understand why, but I seem to have less room to manouever than a year ago.

I link to a couple of blogs, and one, The Ethical Slut, seems on the verge of abandoning posting. That would be a shame: together with the College Callgirl, the Ethical Slut is the nearest thing to a kindred spirit that I have found in the NYC blogosphere. I do not mean by that any similarity of character, or morals either - I am the most unethical of sluts, and doubtless more like College Callgirl's johns than I am like her. But still, I think there is a commonality of some kind - perhaps simply the inclination to think and write seriously, intelligently and honestly about sex, whether good or bad. In my case, fortunately, it is just about always good.

Any port in a storm

I have only very occasionally been in doubt as to whether my cock was in D's ass rather than her cunt, and I think I was stoned on each of those occasions. But when I know where my cock is, it is because I know where I put it rather than because I can tell where it is. Once open and slick, D's asshole is not easily distinguished in terms of sensation from her cunt. This is not because they are not different, but rather because the differences are not sensible by my cock. I can easily tell her cunt and asshole apart with my hands, and I do not think I could ever be in doubt even for a moment which was which if I had my finger up her. Moral: cocks, though sensitive instruments, are not organs of perception. There is very little that can be known through one's cock.

The distinction between sensation and perception is an important one, and hence usually ignored by philosophers. Descartes was a prime offender here, blurring the differences between sensing pain and perceiving colors, for example. Sex is not simply a matter of sensation, though it is surely at least that, for it involves another person - someone to be perceived as well as sensed. My cock senses rather than perceives, and yet I perceive who I fuck (sorry, "whom I fuck"). I suppose this is part of what is meant by saying that sex is 'in the head'. But really, sex is in the organs of perception as well as those of sensation - in the hands that feel, eyes that see, in the nose and the mouth, that taste and smell.

When I fuck, I always fuck some particular person. It may be be true that, as far as the sensations in my cock are concerned, there is nothing that I can point to as distinctive of one cunt (or ass) rather than another. But I see and feel, taste and smell, and also hear, who I fuck (sorry, "whom"). It is this perceptive aspect that makes the Biblical use of 'know' for fucking appropriate, and that denies the interchangeability of the women that I fuck. Looking at D being fucked by me is much more like looking at her being fucked by someone else than it is like looking at F being fucked by me. I have not seen D being fucked by anyone else, though, so this last claim should be regarded with some suspicion.

Assholes are, in general, tighter than cunts; their geometry is simpler. If I had to give up one orifice or the other, I would give up assholes. But no such choice is forced upon me - it has been a good while since I fucked C's ass, and A has no interest, but it is rare for me to spend any time with D without fucking her ass, and it is a regular, if not frequent, act with F as well. And there really are many times when I am indifferent between ass and cunt: any port in a storm.

Thursday

Given the nature of my family life, and my job, it is often hard for me to create alibis that will sustain an entire day spent in someone's company. It is easier to break the day up, by going here and there, doing this and that, and carve out a couple of shorter sessions. These could, of course, be devoted to the same person - but they need not be. Today, they were not.

This morning I was with F just after 9.30, and stayed until a little after 11.00, under the cover of errand-running, subways, and so on. A good, intense session, ending with what may be the best ass-fuck I have ever had with F. I had been fucking her cunt, with her legs up on my shoulders. I put a pillow under her ass to raise her up a little, lubricated her asshole with her own cunt-juice and my spit, and worked my cock into her gently. F comes relatively easily when I am fucking her cunt, but just about all of the stimulation that does the work is external grinding on her clit. With some manouevering, I found that I could get almost the same angle and pressure on her clit with my pubic bone and the very base of my cock, even though the shaft and head of my cock were in her ass. She told me she was going to come, and that helped take me over the edge too. So we came together with me plugged inside her - not something that has happened before, except possibly months ago when I was still using condoms with F. And condoms are, of course, designed to prevent coming inside a woman rather than enabling it.

By 1.30 pm or so, D and I were installed in a 'deluxe' room at the Kew. Deluxe rooms there typically have a wall of mirrors along one side of the bed but none on the ceiling. This was one of those, with a high bed ideal for one of my favourite positions - me standing, D lying. We got to that position later on. First we got stoned and fucked with D in a chair and me kneeling between her legs, and then on the bed, me on top. Excellent stoned fucking. The order or events, and even the list of them, is unrecoverable, but there was a long bout of face-sitting in which D came at least three times in a row. After a conversation about how both her nipples and her armpits can function as triggers, I fucked her while telling her at great length and in considerable detail how I was just about to take her nipple into my mouth. As I drew the waiting out, she neared the tipping-point, so when, finally, I merely touched the tip of my tongue against her right nipple, she immediately began coming. A little later, we performed a similar trick with her left nipple. Another aspect of the 'orgasm-trigger' phenomenon with D occurred later, when she had what she described, jokingly, as an earlobe orgasm. Just as with her armpits, so with her ears - licking and sucking is enough, on top of the clit-grinding at the base of my cock, to help her come.

Almost every time that D and I get stoned and play around for a couple of hours, we describe the sex as the best sex we have ever had. This is I suppose another aspect of the drug-induced heightening of sensation. Yet it seems utterly true at the time. Certainly, this afternoon was spectacular. I came several times, I think, though a couple of these orgasms were of the strange 'I will come a little now, just to juice things up, but no way am I going to stop fucking' variety that seem to happen when I am stoned. I am not, in these cases, completely sure whether I am ejaculating or not, but the sudden extra lubrication, particularly noticeable if I am fucking D in the ass, suggests strongly that I am. I came for the final time in D's cunt, and was already half in the shower when she begged to have the 'last orgasm'. I ate her out, and kept on going once she had come so that she could come again, and then we were done.

Either one of these women would count as providing more than enough joy and delight and satisfaction and ecstasy. Both in one day is obviously far more than I, or anyone, needs or deserves. But if sexual liberation means anything at all, it means liberation from thinking of sex as justified only by need or merit. None of this is about what I need, or what I deserve; it is just about what I like.

Resume; the unkindest cut

There must be a way of adding accents, and hence disambiguating this title - but as I do not know how to do accents in Blogger, I can let the ambiguity stand.

I stopped blogging because, slowly, the existence of the blog had filtered out among the women that I fuck, and that had come to be a problem. I moved the blog elsewhere for a while, but the difficulty recurred there: given my quirks, it is not hard to find me through Google by deploying the right search terms. So I stopped altogether.

Now, though, I will resume.

When I respond to posts on Craigslist, I always write from scratch. I do not have, saved under some innocuous title, a resume (there is that ambiguity) that I can cut and paste into my e-mails. But of course what I write is formulaic, and might as well be saved as a formula:

MWM, 47, 5'11", 175 lb, in good shape, healthy, clean, d/d free, long-legged, strong-jawed, grey-haired, smooth-skinned; nice thick uncut cock.

I think one reason why I get few responses is this last detail - the uncut cock. I met a man named V the other day for coffee, as part of the vetting process for joining a threesome. Everything was fine, and I was fairly confident that I was going to be put in touch with the woman involved, and so move to the next stage of selection. It did not happen, V explained to me yesterday in an e-mail, because the woman was put off by the prospect of dealing with a cock in its natural, unmutilated state:

i'lll tell you, it basically boiled down to one thing -- you're uncut. she decided she didn't want that... *I* on the other hand love a nice foreskin :)

Circumcision is a large topic. Since becoming a liar, cheat, and adulterer I have presented quite a few women with their first experience of an uncut cock. In no case at all have they been put off, and in just about every case they have rapidly come to like it, and to prefer it.

Apart from its deterrent effect - in this instance and in a number of others, being uncut has cost me some very interesting and enjoyable times - the other main disadvantage of being uncut has to do with condoms. I had not really appreciated this until recently, but the majority of condoms are so tight on my cock that they pin my foreskin in place, and this significantly reduces its mobility. That means in turn that when fucking, the sensations connected with the motion of my cock inside my foreskin are diminished; the general diminution of sensation brought about by the use of condoms is therefore accentuated. To some extent the problem can be addressed by using large-size condoms and putting them on rather loosely. The foreskin is then free to move, but of course the condom is less secure, and the latex tends to fold in between the foreskin and the head of my cock. I have had a few condoms work their way off altogether as a result.

I have absolutely no doubt that I benefit in terms of sensation from being uncut, but I also believe that the women I fuck benefit considerably. I tend to fuck women fairly hard and fast for a good long time. This, not surprisingly, can make them fairly sore. But I have been told by quite a few women that they do not get as sore with me as with other men, and that they would expect to be very sore indeed if other men fucked them as hard and for as long as I do. I tell them straightforwardly that this has to do with being uncut. In a moderately tight cunt, and in any ass, my cock moves inside my own foreskin, and I believe that this reduces friction, and hence also soreness. I also believe that there is a subtlety of sensation for me that encourages me to fuck more interestingly. I have no other good explanation of the fact that I am regularly praised for moving in ways that are different from other men, and that give more pleasure.

Circumcision exists as a cultural practice for the purpose of diminishing sexual pleasure. I think it works quite well in achieving that goal. Yet in the United States and many other places this blindingly obvious fact is ignored or denied, and male infants continue to be mutilated. It is sad. My own sons, I am happy to say, have been spared that unkind cut.

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Before resuming posting here, I was posting at www.eryximachus.wordpress.com - but here are those posts pasted:

Vacation, vocation
April 13th, 2007 by eryximachus

As predicted, my vacation was extremely unmemorable from a sexual point of view - and in fact in just about every other way as well. But the days since my return have been spent compensating for that vacancy.

I returned on Monday evening. Tuesday, I had a perfectly pleasant marital fuck in the morning, with C taking a little longer than normal to reach orgasm. I told C that I had come myself, though I had not, as it seemed to me unnecessary to carry on. And it seemed to me also wise to conserve myself for the rest of the day’s activity: an afternoon with A, which was delightful. With her I came a little in her mouth while she was administering one of her wonderful blowjobs, and then again more conclusively when fucking her at the end of our time together.

A’s emotional ecology is very distinctive, for though she is warm and effusive, prone to use endearments, and very passionate, she nevertheless is far more detached than any other woman I fuck. She wants men for sex, not for love, and yet most of the men she hooks up with disappoint her sexually. She complains about their inability to sustain an erection, their unwillingness or lack of enthusiasm about going down on her, their approach to fucking, their sense of rhythm - she complains, in fact, about almost everything. M, perceptive as ever, attributes a good part of these difficulties to the anxiety, nervousness, etc that these men must feel when dealing with someone as detached as A. I am sure that is right. But I do not feel much sympathy for these men, all the same, as I know from my own experience that A is extremely responsive, very generous in bed, and in no way a cold, demanding mistress. She is pretty much what men say they want - a woman who is into sex but not into any of the trappings of romance, not interested in a relationship, not looking for commitment of any sort. Yet when they encounter such a woman, they are, apparently, put off their stroke.

I have known A for quite a long time now - it will soon be a year. I have never had a bad time with her, and we have, with brief exceptions, remained on consistently good terms. Over that same period, and in the months before we first met, she has fucked a lot of men - at one point I think she told me the count stood at 43. I am the only man who has lasted more than a couple of months, except for one man who A still meets but no longer fucks. So despite some similarities, we are obviously very different, for I have fucked rather few women over the last year-and-a-half, but in almost every case, I continue to see them, and to fuck them.

On Wednesday I saw F for a short while in the morning, and E for lunch and then again in the late afternoon/early evening.

On Thursday I again saw F, for somewhat longer than on the day before, and in the afternoon had forty-five minutes of crazed car sex with D.

Today - really just a few minutes from now - I will meet D and we will spend the afternoon together. I have no doubt that will be as relentlessly enjoyable as always.


Incompleteness
April 2nd, 2007 by eryximachus

I vowed, in an earlier post, to aim at completeness in blogging my sexual adventures. Like most vows I have made, this one has been repeatedly broken. In my previous blog, I remarked on the similarity of my situation to that of Tristram Shandy, who finds that it takes more than a day to record the events of each day, so that he falls continually further behind in his journal. This is the basis of the Tristram Shandy paradox, discussed by Bertrand Russell (another philosopher-philanderer) among others. Russell, stupidly, believes that just so long as Shandy lives for an infinite amount of time, he will be able to catch up with himself. It seems obvious, rather, that he will just fall infinitely far behind.

I am not infinitely far behind, or not yet, anyway. But a lot has gone unblogged. The last half of March was full of incident. I saw D a bunch of times, and while my recollections are rather vague, there were several quite spectacular sessions, including a couple of pot- and alcohol-fuelled parties at our favorite no-tell motel.

One of these began with D picking me up from the train in her car, and taking me to work, with a stop for car sex on the way. She was wearing a short leather mini-skirt and thigh-high stockings, but no knickers, so once we were in the back of the car I could go down on her straight away. After she had come, we fucked, I came inside her, and we then went on to the office. Over the course of the morning we messed about in my office several times, including a great arse-fuck with D bent over my desk.

Later, at the motel, I got to wear the leather mini-skirt and the stockings, while D fucked me in the ass with the strap-on, jerking me off at the same time until I came. That was extremely memorable, but of course not well remembered as I was fairly stoned and drunk at the time.

Completeness would require accounts of D’s visit to my other office the day before, of a quick fuck in a parking lot with her on some other day. And other times that I am forgetting. Completeness would also require reports of some short sessions with F, and a couple of delightful afternoons with A, who remains a wonderful companion in adultery. And completeness demands that I record an afternoon with L, last Friday. This last I will get to in the next few days, if I can. But as I shall be away from home and from the office, with unreliable access to the internet, I am not sure that I will be able to do much catching up. On the other hand, I will not be falling further behind, either. Family vacations are not conducive to philandering - nor to philosophy. I may have marital fucks to report, but those are seldom worth detailed description - though yesterday morning C and I did have quite a nice little fuck in the morning.


Sat mng mtg
April 2nd, 2007 by eryximachus

With a decent alibi in place, I met M in one of the smaller city parks on Saturday morning, and we talked and necked, and I felt her up as much as seemed possible given the publicity. Then we walked to a nearby hot-sheet hotel and had a couple of hours together there.

M is, as far as I can tell, always wet, and as she is really good to take from behind, I hiked up her skirt and worked my cock into her right away, while she was leaning over the bed. Fucking as foreplay. That flowed into more fucking, clothes shed. I spent a long time going down on her, and also using my fingers - one, two, three, at some point four. She sucked my cock. All highly pleasurable. The finale, though, was very special, as my orgasm was split up into three distinct phases, each of which M and I could feel together thanks to the precision of her grip, to the synchronization of our senses and sensibilities, to my control over my own orgasmic spasms. ‘Control’, though, is not right - it feels more like managing a discrete force. By slowing and stopping as the moment of ejaculation approaches, I can come just a little; then I can resume fucking, just as hard as before, and do the same thing again, thirty seconds later; and then again - but the third time was climactic. All this with M in complete awareness alongside me. It is wrong to say that boundaries disappear in this kind of experience, but they surely become highly permeable, translucent, diaphanous.


E on the B
March 29th, 2007 by eryximachus

I met M for a drink, and we talked and turned each other on. She is intellectually one of the sexiest people I have ever known. We walked to the train and rode together to my stop, kissing and groping on the way. Then I waited with her until her train came, kissing again, and reaching in her blouse to pinch her nipple.

M and I are obviously both fans of public sex, so that will be interesting to explore with her. But anything will be interesting with M. Though I have promised Friday afternoon to L, who may or may not keep to her side of the arrangement, I hope to see M on Saturday morning and then again on Sunday evening.

Apart from the necking and groping in the bar and on the train, yesterday was a sexual desert. Today, so far, has been a little better, as C gave me a handjob a while ago, this being her way of avoiding anything more time-consuming. I could pay a flying visit to F, but I think I will instead keep my powder dry, as I am due to meet A in a little while, for several hours of entertainment.

——————

Well, so much for keeping my powder dry, or needing to. I yielded to temptation and zipped over to F’s place, for barely half an hour of fucking. Foreplay is not usually required with F, and she was very wet right from the moment I arrived. So we took off our clothes and fucked, first with me on top, and then with her on top. If A is my favorite missionary position fuck - more on that in a moment - F is surely my favorite in the woman-on-top position; today she worked my cock so intensively that I came, even with the deadening of the condom. Quick fucking, but good fucking.

Feeling somewhat depleted by my second ejaculation of the day - it was still before noon - I dosed myself with a little Viagra and went off to meet A. Checked in at our normal short-stay hotel, we also dispensed with foreplay and went straight into a very, very good fuck, with me on top. Fucking A in this position, she fucks me about as much as I fuck her, as she moves a lot, uses every muscle she can, meets my thrusts half way. I was surprised, even so, that within perhaps twenty minutes or half an hour I came yet again.

We rested, then she sucked my cock a little, without really getting me hard again, and then we talked and lay tangled together. I then set about her, beginning at her toes, with their red-painted nails, and working my way up her legs. With A, I always try to devote a little time to her kneecaps: once, when we were stoned, at her house, we were talking about erogenous zones, and the non-erotic character of kneecaps, so I then devoured her left kneecap with my mouth, licking and sucking and chewing, while she moaned in pleasure. The kneecaps and hipbones dealt with, I went down on her, letting her do more and more of the work as orgasm approached. After the first orgasm, I backed off a little and then began again, so she soon came another time. I would normally expect that degree of pleasure on her part to induce an erection in me, but not today. So we again rested, and even dozed off.

Waking at around the time we were due to leave, I thought we were done, but A gave me very good blowjob, using her hand to propel me to another orgasm - my fourth today (so far, that is).

————–

Fourth and final, it seems, as it is now late, I am drunk, and I have no hope that C will be inspired to any sexual shenanigans at bedtime. Late at night rarely works for her: her energy levels are too low, she lacks confidence that she will come (though in fact she will), she lacks confidence that I will come (and there she is right, but I don’t care at all about that), she does not want to run the risk that sex at bedtime will make it harder to get to sleep for her, or will encourage night-sweats. So many worries, almost all legitimate, but all utterly insignificant in my book. Fuck now, worry about the stuff downstream from fucking later. I feel the same way about drink, of course, or food: if it feels good now, no matter how bad it feels later, well let’s just go ahead and do it.


March madness
March 26th, 2007 by eryximachus

I believe this expression refers to something in college basketball in the US.

Looking back over the past week, my sexual schedule does seem like madness. And this past week it has been complicated by continued negotiations with D, who finds my philandering a strain. On the other hand, the fact that the air has cleared with M has been helpful, and she will, I believe, prove to be a very good friend.

Last Monday’s activities (C, F, and D in the same day) I have already recorded. Tuesday was quiet in comparison - a couple of hours with A, a good portion of which was spent lying folded into each other and talking. A is still recovering from the surgery that removed her unsatisfactory implants and did other, as yet to me unrevealed, things to her breasts. We had a very good time together anyway, avoiding anything that would make her too uncomfortable.

A has told me that she enjoys lying next to each other, holding each other, talking and being together, as much as sex. She has therefore sometimes been, if not frustrated, at least disappointed that we do not do it more. I tend, with her as with anyone, to cut downtime to a minimum, and so prefer always to be doing something or having something done. If I am hard, I like to be fucking; I will go down on A whenever I can, and keep at it for as long as I can; I am always happy to have my cock sucked. This is the aspect of me that A refers to as the ‘Energizer Bunny’. I am like this why? Well, in one respect the question is easily answered: fucking is better than not fucking, eating cunt better than not eating cunt, a blowjob better than no blowjob. But besides what is done, there is also the issue of what is avoided, and by filling up all the time with acts and emissions, I thereby ensure that there is no non-sexual closeness generated or manifested. I have not doubt that I am, in some way, managing my emotions, shielding myself from the sorts of connection that, even if it is mediated sexually, nevertheless has a content that goes beyond that. In other words, I am avoiding something that is frightening, threatening, destabilizing.

A is extremely sexy to me. With the implants gone, her figure is a little more boyish, and there are many other tomboyish aspects about her too. Recently her hair has been a little shorter. On Tuesday, stripped down to a black undershirt and black boy-shorts, she looked incredibly desirable to me. Her shoulders, her neck, the smallness of her waist - all extremely appealing. And we have always fitted into each other extremely well. She is by a large margin the shortest woman I fuck, and the lightest. Yet in certain way she is physically the strongest, or seems so. A works hard when fucking, uses her cunt-muscles to grip and work my cock, bucks and grinds against me, reads my thrusts and responds. L, who I have not seen for months now, may have an even more active and lively cunt, and both M and F have a well-developed internal grab; but I think A is still overall my favorite fuck, or at least my favorite missionary-position fuck.

Wednesday was another rather crazy day, beginning with a handjob from C in the marital bed in the morning. This she does, I suppose, because she is not interested in fucking but wants to give me pleasure, and sexual release. I am not going to object or refuse, but the pleasure is not very great, and the release is irrelevant. Where does the view that men are like cows that need to be milked come from?

Next on Wednesday, F, for not much more than an hour or so. Fucking, mainly, as always with F, who does not either require or request anything much in the way of foreplay. Who, in fact, does? Not D, particularly. C enjoys, or used to anyway, being opened up - that is, beginning penetration when she is not well lubricated. E has expressed a positive desire to be fucked when not ready, but that is probably an aspect of her submissiveness. A is typically ready to fuck right away, and though she loves oral, with me she seems always to want to fuck first. There is really no-one I have sex with who conforms to what remains in many ways a standard model of coupling - extensive foreplay leading only after some very considerable time to intercourse as the final act.

Certainly that is not how things usually are with F. I would estimate that I have my cock inside her within five minutes of ringing her doorbell, just about every time I visit her. The only way that I can help her achieve orgasm without her rubbing her clit herself is through deep, grinding fucks. I don’t think foreplay does as much to prepare her as fucking itself, so the trick is just to fuck for long enough rather than to spend time doing other things before fucking. Obviously, this approach requires that I be able to fuck her for a good while without coming myself, but that is usually not a problem.

I left F and met M for lunch, and we agreed to meet again later. So at four o’clock we checked in to a room and pleased each other extensively for two and a half hours or so, including four orgasms for her. One of our very best times together, though M and I are definitely on an upswing sexually.

A busy day, a delightful day, and a happy day.

Thursday was, jerking off apart, a day without sex. I did meet K for a quick drink in the evening.

Friday, D. A lot of talk and tears, unfortunately, before we finally fucked. D made a mistake in suspending our ‘don’t ask, don’t tell’ policy back in January and has been trying to deal with the consequences ever since. I am very fond of D, care about her very much, admire and respect her, and am sexually besotted with her. I distrust the strength of my desire for her, and I think it has been my struggle with that intensity of desire that has made me treat her less well than I should have. The ideal of an uncommitted but passionate, casual but companionable, disinterested but intense sexual relationship is fraught with inconsistency. I can, for the most part, deal with that well enough. D cannot.

Saturday: D again, to talk more and then to spend an hour in my office having amazing sex, as usual. I love to eat D’s cunt so much that the thought of ceasing to do so is very painful. She spent some time lying on my desk with her feel on the arms of my desk-chair, in which I sat. A perfect position in which to bring her to the brink of orgasm and keep her riding that edge. Also a perfect position for me to stand and fuck her, so I took her ass like that and edged myself into a mini-orgasm. I surely felt that I was spurting some seed inside her, and her asshole became immediately slicker and wetter, but by holding back just a little I could keep on fucking, so I then moved to her cunt and fucked that until I again reached another little orgasm. Whether that was set or dry I am not sure. We then moved to her sucking my cock, but sadly were interrupted by a telephone call, and then my sudden departure.

D and I are in the endgame, I think.


Start the week
March 19th, 2007 by eryximachus

This morning C and I fucked for a little while, and came together - or rather, she came, and the twitching of her cunt-walls and my general level of excitement meant that I came too. A good fuck, but from start to finish not more than ten minutes.

A little later I visited F and stayed with her for a couple of hours, which contained very little downtime. Perhaps the first hour was nearly all fucking, first with me on top, and then with her on top, and then me on top again. She came several times, either with the help of her own hand while I was pumping her, or from the deep grinding, which is the principal way that she attains orgasm from fucking. There was, though, an interval in which she jerked off while I fingered her, and she also sat on my face for a while.

My first orgasm was from a delightful slippery handjob, F coating my cock liberally with lube and jerking me off until I came. We then lay and rested, until F began fingering herself. I took over and rubbed her clit for a while, before finger-fucking her cunt and ass at the same time. By the time that she jerked off and came, I was hard enough to fuck her in the ass, which I did until I came again.

So far today, then, I have come three times. In a little while I will meet D at a local pub and we will later retire to my office. I assume that will make it four, or more, if I can get it up at all.

————–

No problems getting it up, as it turns out. Aren’t modern pharmaceuticals useful? D was on the first day of her period and so in full flow, which made the office-fuck slightly more complicated than normal. By the time we were done we were both very bloody. The last act was a wonderful fuck with D bent over the desk and me pounding away at her from behind until I came in her cunt. Before that we had an hour and a half or so of cunt- and ass-fucking, and a lot of oral. All of this, of course, had to be done without too much moaning or gasping, or any noise much above a whisper. D is pretty good at that, though. It was all wonderful.


Clean-up
March 12th, 2007 by eryximachus

I am in my office, hoping that in a little while M will come by to clean up my cock, which is coated with C’s cunt-juice and my come. This morning, C and I had a decent fuck at home - nothing spectacular or special, but a bit longer and more varied than our standard ‘get on, get off and get on’ fucks. C, who had been for a run, put on the stretchy red boy-shorts and top that I bought her a while ago from Calvin Klein, and after a little massage and fingering I climbed on top and worked my cock into her. I tried to stretch things out, but C comes so easily that she climaxed within just a few minutes, and I then took a few minutes more to reach my own orgasm.

C and I last fucked on Saturday, two days ago, when she proposed, pretty much as I was about to leave to meet M, that we mess around. There then followed a functional little fuck, and I dressed and went on my way. When I met M, I told her that I had come straight from fucking my wife, which she found rather amusing. I offered to shower, but she elected instead to clean me up with her mouth. That was the opening act of three hours of fun, which culminated in another orgasm for me. Betweentimes, we fucked, I went down on her, I fingered her cunt and her ass, we talked, she sucked my cock some more.

Today, then, it seems natural to offer M another chance to clean my cock of my wife’s juices and my come. I await her call.

——————–

Update: M did indeed come by and suck my cock clean, and then brought me off in her mouth, which she had not quite managed before.

F
February 25th, 2007 by eryximachus

Thursday: an interesting day.

By a little after 10.30 this morning, I was with F, in her flat. I had not seen her all week. She was wearing very tight, low-waisted Guess jeans, little ankle boots, and a black top of some sort. We kissed standing up, and then she lay back on the bed and waited for me to undress her. This I did, unbuckling her belt, unbuttoning and unzipping her jeans, and so revealing the deep purple panties she had on underneath. I took off her boots, and socks, kissed her toes, and then peeled the jeans off her. Then I could bury my head between her thighs, and smell her cunt. I worked her with my lips and tongue through the panties for a while, and then took them off too; she took off her top. I suppose that I had shed all my clothes by this time too. So then I went down on her seriously, worrying at her clit with my tongue, fingering her cunt, and losing myself in her smell and taste, and in the slickness and the textures of her cunt.

Then I fucked her. F does not always come from intercourse alone. Today, though, she was on a roll, and while I was on top of her she came three or four times. Though F really likes long thrusts and pounding fucks, it is actually the deeper, closer, grinding work that is apt to make her come. I do not really know how to describe the technique from my side, but it often helps me to viualize her clit and its orientation against my body, and to seek to increase the pressure and friction. Almost nothing is achieved in this regard by porno-style thrusting and banging, no matter now much fun that is.

After a good while, I needed a break, so I put on a condom and F climbed on top and lowered herself onto my cock. I lay back and let her fuck away, which she does with a relentlessness and a focus that is very rewarding to watch and to feel. After a while she turned around and faced my feet, and so I fingered her asshole, and she then had a go at mine. So we broke off, lubed up, and she fucked my asshole with her monstrous vibrating dildo - which I eventually managed to take as far as it could be taken.

We then went back to fucking with her on top, and talked, and some of F’s recent sadness came out and she cried. I comforted her as best I could, but that is not much. As a single mother, a woman who is required constantly to be strong, it is not at all surprising that sometimes she longs to have someone who will be strong for her, on whom she can lean. Very sensibly, she does not typically confuse that longing with her equally intense but very different desire for a man as a sexual partner. But occasionally the distinction breaks down, and she feels what is missing so sharply that she cannot set it aside. I can fuck her, and can even be a friend to her; I cannot be anything else. But our culture insists that sex and support make a suitable pair, and even when everything in one’s own experience screams otherwise, that insistence is hard to ignore.

The tears over, we went back to fucking, which F does with a dedication and delight that is unmatched. And then I went off to a meeting.


Keeping it holy
February 21st, 2007 by eryximachus

Thursday: F for an hour and change, a break for lunch, and then A for a couple of hours. Both truly excellent. I came once with F, twice with A - rather unusual.

Friday: a couple of hours with D - as energetic and exhausting as always. I gave her a lacy black teddy as a gift, which she really did look spectacularly sexy in. But more importantly, it helped her to acknowledge her own sexiness

Saturday: three hours with M. We began fucking from behind, standing, before we had all our clothes off, then fucked on the bed with me on top for a long time. Then she sat on my cock and brought me off with her cunt - very good. After that, we rang the changes on oral, handwork, fucking, and finished finally with my ejaculating on her face.

That night, C and I fucked in bed before going to sleep - a decently long fuck, and a big orgasm for her.

Sunday: nothing.

Monday: a handjob from C in the morning; another handjob in the evening at an Asian massage spa.

Tuesday: two hours or so with A, who was in a very festive and excited mood in anticipation of the weekend that we are planning. We fucked, she helped herself come with her hand, we fucked more, including a long bout from behind with her lying flat, she went down on me, I went down on her, she went down on me again, and finally we fucked with me on top, pinning her legs back, and I came deep inside her.

Wednesday: three hours and a bit with M. I had some hard-on problems towards the end, having come relatively early on, at the climax of a magnificent pounding fuck. M told me afterwards that she had never been fucked so hard. Later on I had her restrained - ankles and wrists clipped together - while I inserted a couple of smallish dildos/buttplugs in her asshole. We fucked more, I went down on her a lot, and also had her sit on my face. Change and change about.

A week’s worth.


Wednesday (VD)
February 14th, 2007 by eryximachus

This morning C and I went to bed and fucked - a very good fuck too, and my orgasm was long and intense. C comes so easily from fucking alone that it is hard to make sex with her last very long, and once she has come her cunt feels exceptionally good, so it is then usually pretty easy for me to come quickly. And then we are done. We are victims of our own sexual compatibility.

Less than two hours later, I was fucking F, first from behind standing up, and then with me on top, then her on top, and then from behind kneeling. An hour and ten minutes of continuous sex.

I do not like Valentine’s Day. But if it is going to happen, fucking as many different women as possible seems as good a way of celebrating it as any. However, my hope of spending a few hours with M later in the day have come to nothing, thanks to her work and mine. A shame.


Tuesday with Z
February 14th, 2007 by eryximachus

I first met Z when she came to my office to watch me jerk off for her - an episode recorded in my earlier blog. On Tuesday we had a re-enactment of sorts, during which we kissed a lot, touched each other, she sucked my cock some, and I finally jerked off. Z never removed her jeans, as she had her period.

It was rather beautiful, but also slightly sad, as Z is leaving at the end of the week and will be globe-trotting for months. She is a remarkable, and remarkably beautiful woman. I love the shape of her head, her hair, her magnificent neck, her unshaven armpits, and her big, rough hands.


Monday
February 14th, 2007 by eryximachus

A busy day: a little over an hour with F, then a dash to meet C for lunch, and then I met D and we went to a hotel for two hours.

The time with F was typical of time with her - spent mostly fucking, including plenty of time with her on top. With D, the sex was even more intense than usual, including a couple of huge, deep climaxes for her. I have never heard her make so much noise, or seen her quite so racked with spasms.

It is odd - I suppose it is reprehensible - to have lunch with my wife between assignations with two different women. I admit there is a frisson of guilt, and a corresponding thrill in getting away with it. But those feelings are peripheral. Almost all of the motivation for me comes from the fucking itself - the pleasure I give, the pleasure I take.

What about the doubling up? Again, there is a childish delight in fucking two women just a couple of hours apart, but neither F nor D is really available for a long, langourous day of fucking anyway. These shorter encounters are all that can really be arranged because of limitations on their side rather than on mine; why not, then, schedule more than one of them per day?

D went off from our crazed time together to a date with a new suitor, and she later told me that after several drinks they ‘made out’. Perhaps that will develop into something good for her - I hope so, even though that might mean that she ends up casting me aside.


Friday, Saturday
February 10th, 2007 by eryximachus

On Friday, two-and-a-half hours of sex with A. We had intended to get a little stoned, but neither of us had matches. The sex was great anyway. A had brought some pages printed out from an online Kama Sutra with some positions that she was interested in trying. She had looked at the pictures, but not at the text, which was ludicrous. The Kama Sutra is bizarre anyway, but it is even stranger when run through a crappy translation engine.

One of the positions did not work at all, but a couple of others did. Perhaps the best was something that I had done before with F: I lie on my back, spread my legs and pull them up and back towards my shoulders; the woman gets on top and rides my cock. With F this was good, but with A it was really great, and I told her that if I was stoned I would definitely feel her cock fucking my cunt - that is, I would be able to transpose our roles more completely.

We fucked in more standard fashion too, and I went down on A for a long time, and she had a series of orgasms. After that she complained that she was a little sore, and so gave me a long, brilliant blowjob. I never ejaculated, but I had a big, climactic orgasm - legs shaking, spasms in my groin, that amazing convulsive sensation in the head of my cock. If she had told me that I had, in fact, ejaculated, I would not have been surprised.

We rested, talked, fucked some more, and then she sucked my cock again, eliciting another big, dry orgasm. And then it was time for me to shower and leave.

Saturday: a little under three hours with M, which was pretty much continuous sex. Mainly fucking, either with me on top, or her on top, or from behind. The only extensive breaks from fucking were for me to go down on her, and then finger fuck her; or for me to tongue and finger her asshole; or for her to suck my cock. She helped herself to come while I was finger-fucking her, and working her g-spot (if that is what it was). I came at the end, jerking off while she watched and lapped up my seed, which came in a couple of small gentle dribbles about thirty seconds apart and then a more complete and climactic series of spurts in M’s mouth.

M is a large woman, and I suppose there are many men who would not consider her as a potential fuck. They are missing out. Nor is it a question of tolerating her size and getting an agile, active, interesting and tight cunt to fuck in return. She looks magnificent when she is being fucked. I have two favorite views. One is when I am on top, pinning her legs up with my arms, so she is almost doubled in two, and I can pound her cunt as hard as I like. Looking down I can see her face, her huge tits, and the rolls of her belly furrowed above her cunt-hair. The other delightful scene is looking at her from behind, whether I am fucking her or eating her asshole or just looking.

Today I worked her asshole quite a lot with my fingers, including my thumb, and I also nudged part of the head of my cock into the very first part of her hole. Soon I will fuck her ass fully, which is going to hurt her. I don’t find the pain this will cause her arousing in itself, but I acknowledge that it is in some way pleasing as a prospect. That she is willing to undergo this pain, and wants to, is deeply touching; the tenderness that this will generate in me will bring us closer; and of course, her tight asshole will feel great, and I will delight in screwing my way in as deep as I can and then pumping seed into her.



E follows D
February 9th, 2007 by eryximachus

Shortly after C left for work, D picked me up and we drove to a hotel. There, in a dark and hot little room with bedside lights that did not function, we got stoned and went at each other for two-and-a-half hours or so.

Smoking pot makes sex more intense in several different ways, I think. One important effect is time-dilation: I spent what seemed like a very, very long time going down on D, with her coming several times, and then I fucked her hard and rhythmically for a long time too. When we finally took a break it seemed, subjectively, that we had been at it for at least an hour - but in fact it was barely twenty minutes by the clock.

A second effect is perhaps an analogue of the first: that details seem much sharper, and discrimination of details much finer. An object stuck in your teeth seems, to the tongue, large; when you get it out at last, it is tiny. Being stoned somehow makes everything bigger, more salient.

Another effect is tirelessness. When I am stoned I notice that my muscles are protesting, but I do not care, and I am happy to continue using my tongue or my fingers or my cock long past the point where, unstoned, I would change positions, or take a break.

I think it has very similar effects on D, as she can take a huge amount of fucking when she is stoned, and can suck my cock brilliantly for hours (or what seems like hours). Today we did all the standard things - I went down on her, we fucked, she went down on me, I fucked her ass, she blew me again. At one point towards the end I jerked off while she was sitting on my face - about as close to 69 as D and I can get, as neither of us can really concentrate when being eaten by the other.

It was a wild, varied ride, and left me feeling fairly drained. But I had arranged to meet M and so, not much more than an hour after leaving D, I hooked up with M, we had a drink, and then went to a nearby hot-sheet hotel. There, in a little more than an hour-and-a-half, we had plenty of fun, including some very hard fucking by me. It was in no way long enough in terms of being with M, whose mind is very sharp and intuitive, and who is fascinating to talk to. But it was wonderful anyway.

With M, I did not come at all - she came twice, I think, in both cases as a result of her own efforts. I was close sometimes, but I suspect the tank was near empty, as D had managed to coax a lot of seed out of me with her mouth and I had come in her cunt, and I also came when jerking off for her. M was a little concerned about this, worrying that she had not pleased me - but I pointed out that if she wanted my seed and I withheld it as a punishment, that was appropriate. M has been ignoring my rulings on frequency of masturbation, so punishment is indeed in order, and there is something right-seeming to me in punishing her orgasms enjoyed without permission by denying her mine.



Completeness
February 8th, 2007 by eryximachus

I am not sure what benefit the completeness of this record confers. But I feel that omissions are a fault. So I shall attempt to mention, at least in passing, every sexual encounter that is of any significance at all. Jerking off is not, in my view, automatically of significance; almost anything erotic, sensual, or sexual involving other people is.

Last Saturday, so the day after my delightful five hours with M, the day began with a pleasant fuck with C, my wife. It was in fact one of the better fucks that we have had in recent months. C and I are in a way victims of our sexual competence and complementarity. She always comes, usually easily and quickly, from unassisted penetration. Her orgasms are long, intense, and final, and return her to a neutral state in terms of sexual excitement - in other words, it is over for her, and all that really remains is for me to fuck her until I come, preferably as soon as possible. On occasions when I do not come soon after her and it is apparent that I am not likely to, we stop. I do not object to that at all, as I have no interest or desire to carry on fucking her when she no longer wants to be fucked. So once we reach the point where she wants to stop, I want to stop as well.

Recently, I have tried to drag things out a little, with more foreplay, and by holding back a little when fucking. But C is really not much into foreplay beyond whatever is required to get ready to fuck, and these days, partly in response to menopausal vaginal dryness, she very often lubricates herself artificially, thus short-circuiting the process of preparation. The Astroglide, while it does not taste bad, does not taste like her. And C is really not much of a fan of oral anyway - she enjoys the sensation of having her clit licked and sucked gently, but it just makes her want to fuck right away.

Sometimes, describing C’s sexuality to others or myself, I think that she is rather like the stereotypical ‘wham, bam, thank you ma’am’ man - sex is just a matter of ‘get on, get off, get on’. But that is not right, as she is certainly concerned with my pleasure - or rather, with my satisfaction, which is not quite the same thing. What would please me would be to spend hours with her hovering on the brink of orgasm, or coming multiply; to chop and change positions, take breaks and resume. I want to ride the slow, meandering local train to satisfaction, not the express.

It is now Thursday morning, and I think with this record of fucking C on Saturday, the blog is complete from last Friday. Last Thursday, I spent a little under two hours with D at our favorite ‘no-tell motel’, and I believe the day before that I spent some time with F in the morning and had lunch and then a very rapid office-fuck with M. Because of this rather hectic schedule, completeness is difficult to attain; and it is important to remember that blogging about fucking is not the same as fucking, and the ideal is to be too busy fucking to spend any time blogging.


Backtracking
February 8th, 2007 by eryximachus

I blogged earlier about Wednesday morning with F, but Tuesday with D also requires recording.

D and F are in certain ways alike, but in other ways they are extremely different. F is unmarried, and has, I am sure, an extremely interesting, varied, and also variable sexual history. D is married, in a loveless and sexless marriage, and is only just coming to discover herself as a sexual being. Yet in bed, or wherever one happens to be, they are equally fearless, equally insatiable.

On Tuesday D picked me up in her car, and we drove to a favorite spot and climbed in the back. Over the course of the next two hours, we had some of the most amazing car-sex that we have ever had, and that is a considerable feat given our history of ‘drive-by’ fucks and the longer, night-time episodes last summer. Those extraordinary times were blogged in the precursor to this blog, and when I have time I will move some of those posts here. But at present I do not have time, for I am too busy fucking.

Two hours in the back of D’s SUV, in the course of which she came a bunch of times and I came three times - in D’s mouth, in her cunt, and jerking off while kissing her. Her orgasms were, as always with D, when I went down on her or when she sat on my face. All were intense, but the last sequence, when she was sitting on my face, was clearly overwhelming. And ‘overwhelming’ is perhaps the word that does most justice to sex with D, which has never been less than great, and has frequently been beyond description. Though we are in almost every other way unsuited to each other, we are an extraordinary sexual couple.

In the car, with the engine running to keep the heat going, and with music playing, we are constrained by the geometry of the space. Yet we manage everything - fucking with me on top, fucking with her on top, ass-fucking, blowjobs, me going down on her, her sitting on my face. And the virtue of the confined space is that there are lots of hand-holds, places to brace feet, and so on. Often, a bed gives too much freedom and too little purchase.

Orgasm with D has always been intense, and it is really with her that I have learned to distinguish orgasm from ejaculation. This too has been the subject of previous posts that I intend to copy here some day. But on Tuesday my orgasms were just about all ejaculatory, though when I came in D’s mouth I felt that I had already been coming for a long time, and even when she took a break from swallowing I kept leaking seed for a while, without any real orgasmic spasms in accompaniment. I also remained completely hard, and my next orgasm followed relatively quickly, after some very hard fucking.

The final orgasm for me was a showpiece of sorts, done principally to decorate a t-shirt that I was donating to D with my seed. D sat on my face, I pinched and twisted her nipples while tonguing her clit, and after she had come she climbed off and kissed me while I jerked off. A fitting end to a very exciting couple of hours.

That was all that was of interest on Tuesday. The day before I had a pleasant make-out session with Z in my office, but Z is presently not inclined to have sex with me, or anyway has ruled against it. So Tuesday in the car with D and Wednesday morning with F are the week’s adventures so far.

The future: Thursday with D, and perhaps a meeting with M also. Friday with A. And then Saturday with M.


Ninety minutes
February 7th, 2007 by eryximachus

This morning I spent a hectic ninety minutes with F, who is an extraordinarily energetic and seasoned lover (that last description is her own) with one of the most lively, clever cunts I have ever fucked.

When I arrived she was strikingly dressed in a black wrap-around top and tight velvet pants - also black. Black leather stiletto boots. A metal choker necklace. After some heavy clinching, and a little fingering of her cunt inside her pants, I undressed her, and we then fucked for a good while, me on top.

The first time I ever fucked F, I came almost the moment I got my condom-clad cock inside her. Fortunately, I stayed hard and carried on fucking, and she was so turned on that she came fairly soon after, just from the deep grinding of my cock in her cunt. Since then - and we have fucked many times since then - she has not always come simply from fucking, needing also to help herself with her hand. But today everything clicked, and after some energetic shafting I plugged myself as deep as I could inside her and ground away, and she worked her clit against my pubic bone in return, and took herself up to the peak. It was quite wonderful, and for a moment I thought she was going to suck the seed out of me too, which would not have been good as I had not yet put on a condom. But I held back, and we carried on fucking, while she enjoyed the orgasmic aftershocks.

Then we swapped places, and she rode my cock. F is the most active fucker in that position I have ever known, with the possible exception of one girlfriend that I had in my twenties. I made sure I had a condom on, and that turned out to be a wise precaution as before long she had me coming. That is relatively unusual for me, but F managed to work herself back and forth while I was counter-thrusting as hard as I could from below, and I realized that the combination of her clit and cunt-lips grinding at the base of my cock and the sensations she was generating in the head of my cock deep inside her were going to make me climax. I told her I was going to come, and that helped her reach climax too.

I was fairly confident I was spent, but after some chat and a cup of coffee, F sucked me hard and asked me to fuck her, and she helped herself come with her hand again before it was time to go.

Ninety minutes with F pack as much sexual excitement as several weeks’ worth of marital sex.


February 7th, 2007 by eryximachus

Last Friday, five hours in a hotel room with M. We are just beginning to get familiar with each other, having done this once before, the previous Friday. We also had a rapid office fuck last Wednesday, after lunch.

M is sexually submissive, but also capable of being aggressive and dominant if she chooses. I began by fucking her from behind, lifting up her skirt and pulling down her tights and knickers, and working my cock into her. She is tight, even when very wet. Her ass is big and solid - a great pleasure to slam into. After that we removed the rest of our clothes and I climbed on top. M does not have as grippy or grabby a cunt as F, or L, but she is still a complete delight to fuck, and over the course of the afternoon she felt very different at different times. With her legs hiked up as high as they would go, I pounded her very hard, and at one point she was yelping because it hurt, as the head of my cock was banging her cervix. With another woman I would have stopped, but M wants me to use her irrespective of her feelings of pleasure or pain, and I did enjoy fucking her that way.

A while later, she climbed on top and rode my cock, and in that position her aggressiveness came out more. She moves her pelvis back and forth forcefully, and her cunt-muscles reinforce the effect, so my cock was being worked extremely well. I think it likely that she could bring me off that way. But on Friday she began to cry, from a grief that is, I think, unrelated to me, and so the mood of the fuck shifted towards something deeper and more tender, which was very touching, and helped me to feel very close to her. With my permission, she used her hand to rub her clit until she came, in what she reported was a very powerful orgasm.

Over the course of three hours or so we fucked almost continuously, though with breaks, odd episodes of cock-sucking, fingering, etc. I certainly came once inside her, but did not lose my erection for a while. I don’t think I can have come a lot, though, as when I went down on her not long after I could hardly taste my seed at all. During that episode of oral, she reported a series of mini-orgasms.

What else? She gave me a decent but not spectacular blowjob, we fucked more, I tongued and fingered her asshole, we drank wine and talked. It was all extremely enjoyable, friendly, and fun.


February 4th, 2007 by eryximachus

I have elsewhere been blogging my sexual adventures, and for a number of reasons that blog must cease to operate. This blog will take its place.

There is an element of boastfulness, clearly, in placing a record of my sexual adventures in plain view. But I do not believe that crowing is the primary motivation. What, then, is? One impulse is record-keeping. Given the nature of my adventures, it would unwise to keep any record of them hidden - much safer, these days, to place it plain sight, suitably anonymized. Another is documentary - to place in public view an account of one man’s sexual activities. But the most important reason for me now is more clearly confessional: to use the process of writing and publishing as a means to analyze and interpret my actions, my feelings, my thoughts. Only the documentary motivation requires there to be anyone but me reading this blog, and I do not really care much if anyone does.

Philosophy and philandering are not, for me, entirely distinct. Sex is not, or anyway should not be, a matter of raw sensation. When I fuck, I also think. I can’t make much sense of the idea that fucking is an animal activity, if that is meant to suggest that the same thing is going on when two humans fuck and when two dogs fuck. Of course, I don’t know how fucking seems to the dog or the bitch. But I cannot imagine it is anything like what goes on when I am fucking D, even when we are in one of our pot and alcohol fuelled frenzies. The ‘I think’ that accompanies every judgment also accompanies every thrust, every pinch of a nipple, every spurt of seed deep in D’s ass. Perhaps sex aims at the obliteration of that accompaniment, but it does not, in my experience, ever attain to it.

Very many deep philosophical themes are shot through with sex, and sex illuminates, in interesting ways, many traditional philosophical issues. They will surface in this blog, alongside the seamier details of my acts and emissions.