Sex.Life.Blog

Rooster's Greatest Hits

2009-02-17T06:39:00.000-08:00

It is officially Closing Time at Sex.Life.Blog. I plan on this being my last post here, so we'll let this be good bye. Thanks for reading, and I hope you got a lot of enjoyment out of my tales. I'll say again, just for emphasis: everything I've written here is true (with the exception of posts clearly marked otherwise). The writings on this blog present a pretty accurate picture of one man's sex life over about 20 years with the woman he fell in love with and married. You can safely assume that Freya and I will go on having hot, dirty, kinky, loving sex in the future, and that I'll be just as crazy about her for the next 20 years as I've been for the last 20. I could therefore go on blogging here for years, I'm sure. But some things are better ended when they've run their course, which I think this blog has. Time to move on to something else, creatively.

I will not be deleting the blog - I've put way too much time into writing these posts to just zap them into oblivion. Plus I enjoy reading back over them. Below are links to some of my favorite pieces of work. Favorite in this case typically means "hottest", so if you're looking for smoking stories this is probably a good guide.

If you're looking for true stories about threesomes (or even foursomes), I wrote all about our sex with Helen, her then-boyfriend, and our friend Nick. Anniversary Surprise, Our First Orgy, Our Second Orgy, Freya's Hot Lesbian Action, Handcuffing Helen, Helen and Freya Tie Me Up and Punish Me, Rooster Crowe is a Stallion, Rooster Makes Two Girls Come at the Same Time, Our First MMF Threesome, Freya Fucks Nick Alone, Listening To Freya Fuck Another Man, Freya Gets Double Teamed.
I love to play sex games with Freya, and wrote about some of my favorites. Naughty Goth Girl, Mistress In Fishnets, Drunk Sorority Girl, Raping Freya, Mistress D, Sex Text, Another Session with Mistress D, The Hardest S&M Game I've Ever Played, The Hot Neighbor, Forced Shave, Sweet Pussy, My Wife's Affair, Freya Fucks Her Boyfriend, The Witch's Sex Toy, Breaking In Jiggles.
Here's some stories about sex that was unusual or just plain hot. Cock Teasing In Order To Get Pregnant, Pregnant Sex, A Shower To Remember, Loud and Hard, Rooster Crowe Is Making Porn, Tell Me When You Want It Deep, Highway Blow Job.
I wrote three posts in which I let my alpha male side run wild and exult in having taken Freya away from a potential suitor. I Am That Guy, Taunting Eric, The Alpha Male Returns.

There's plenty more where that came from, of course, so feel free to poke around. If you particularly like something feel free to send me an e-mail, which I'll keep checking.

Again, thanks for reading and hope you enjoyed. It was fun writing it, that's for sure. See you around.

Rooster Crowe

Sex Report: The Last One

2009-02-16T06:16:00.000-08:00

Since this is the last Sex Report I'm planning on writing it seems like it should be a really good one. Some kind of wild sex romp where Freya has like nine orgasms, we fuck for three hours, and I paint her face with the largest come shot ever produced by a human being. This being real life, however, the truth was somewhat less porn-o-riffic.

It was early morning on Saturday. Which meant it was Valentine's Day. Although like a lot of people we'd celebrated it the night before, going out to eat at a very nice steak place. However we hadn't had sex, and here I was Saturday morning thinking it would be just awesome to celebrate the true meaning of V-Day: with some hard core sex.

My wife wasn't disinterested, but she wasn't exactly hot for it either. I'd gotten her warmed up enough with some kissing and a couple fingers sliding up her thigh and between her legs, stroking her pussy until she started getting wet. Maybe not dripping, "Take me now baby" wet, but enough that I knew I could slide my cock into her pretty easily.

I got on my back and she straddled me, sliding that wonderful pussy back and forth across my shaft before she impaled herself. She felt so good, as always, and when she started rolling her hips I was in heaven. For a long time we just fucked each other in silence, my hands on her big tits while she rode me. All kinds of reasons why cowgirl is such fun, and one of the primary ones is it lets me play with her boobs.

"Would you like to bend me over in the shower?" she said after awhile.

"Why?" I asked, wondering what she was getting at. Because there's literally no chance of her coming when I fuck her that way. Being taken from behind just doesn't do it for her.

"I don't think I'm going to be able to finish," she said. That happens sometimes, especially when we jump into sex without a lot of preliminaries.

Now I was torn. On the one hand I wanted to see and hear her come. Freya's got a very pretty face, and when she's having an orgasm it's exquisitely beautiful. And what man doesn't love hearing their wife moan and groan in pleasure? On the other hand, the longer we'd been going at it the more aggressive I had started to feel. Sometimes it's like that for me. The act of having my cock inside Freya, of filling her softness with my hardness, makes me feel dominant. And that's what had happened that morning. Offering her body for me to use only increased those feelings.

"How about you get on your hands and knees," I said. "I think I'd like to fuck you that way."

She climbed off of me and did as I asked, taking up a position on her hands and knees while I got behind her. I grabbed her wide hips tightly in my hands as I pushed into her, my cock sliding in quite easily. Then I reached up and grabbed a handful of her hair, pulling her head up and back.

"Who do you belong to, slut," I snarled as I thrust into her. Yeah, I was feeling really aggressive.

"You," she gasped out. Every time I slammed my cock into her she was making a little noise of pain. "Please take it easy."

Instead of going easy I fucked her harder and yanked back even more on her hair, making her cry out.

"Are you my bitch?" I demanded.

"Yes," she said desperately.

"Say it!" I commanded her. It had only been a minute or so of hard thrusting, but I was already close to coming.

"I'm your bitch," she gasped out. "My pussy belongs to you."

That did it, as she kept gasping and begging me to go easy I climaxed, the come pouring out of me as I grunted and moaned. It felt like I unleashed a gallon of come inside her, and it just went on and on. Finally I stopped thrusting, letting go of her hair.

I guess you could say that was her Valentine's Day present for me. Beats candy or flowers, that's for sure.

Sex Report: A Challenge

2009-02-13T06:34:00.000-08:00

"How about a challenge?" Freya said to me. She was responding to my suggestion that we have sex. She was definitely interested, but the look in her eye told me she wasn't going to make it easy for me.

"What do you have in mind?" I asked her.

"How about you try to make me come using just your hand," she said. Her cheeks were a little red with embarrassment, which is pretty cute. I've asked her for all kinds of wild and kinky things, and here she gets a little shy asking me for something that's not really outrageous.

"And if you can make me come, then you get to come too," she continued.

Huh. I'll admit to being intrigued, but I was also concerned. See, although I'm game for making my wife come with my hands, tongue, cock, or any other part of my body that works, I've not had a lot of success in stimulating her manually. The problem is she gets frustrated with my efforts, as I'm not as good at it as she is with her own fingers. I'll sometimes press too hard, or go to fast, and that throws her off enough that she can't quite finish. I have made her come with my fingers before, but it's been awhile. Normally after some hand play she just wants to fuck. Apparently my dick is a whole lot better tool for getting her off.

"How do I get to come?" I asked, wondering if she had anything in mind.

"I don't know," she answered. "I hadn't really thought about it."

Ah, so she expected me to fail. Well that settled it. I'd make her come all over my hand, then I was going to....well, I wasn't sure what. But it was definitely going to involve me coming in or on her.

So I took up the challenge. But just to show you I'm not a complete idiot, I didn't right away jam a couple fingers in her pussy and start rubbing. I've been married long enough to know that a little warm up goes a long way. So to start with I didn't put my hand anywhere near her groin. No, I kissed her, stroked her hair, her breasts, her thighs. I talked to her, telling her how hot she was. This had the advantage of stroking her ego while also being completely true. Only after I'd gotten her nice and relaxed did my fingers slide up her inner thigh and onto her pussy. And even then I took it slow. I rubbed gently, just a couple fingers moving slowly around the area of her clit. Too much clitoral stimulation puts her off, so instead I took it easy.

I kept that up for a long, long time. Swirling my fingers around her pussy, taking note when she seemed to particularly enjoy me rubbing one area or another.

"That's a good motion," she said at one point as I rubbed two fingers in a circle around her clit. She was rocking her hips ever so slightly, and I could feel her getting wetter. She still was a long way from coming, though.

I kept rubbing her for a long, long time. And as I did it was amazing to feel her pussy change beneath my hand. As she got more and more turned on she got wetter, obviously, but it was more than that. I could feel the tissue swelling up, and even wilder her cunt opened up more and more. To begin with I had my fingers above her slit, rubbing on the surface. But as she got more and more into it, spreading her legs and bucking her hips, her hole seemed to get bigger and I found that about half my fingers were inside her. The areas most in need of attention shifted as well, moving lower. I wasn't rubbing around her clit any more, I had moved down to where I was putting most of the pressure on the area just above her slit. And clearly it was working, she was bucking her hips hard into my hand, and placed her hand on my wrist to try and help guide me a little. I had her on the edge, and visions of how I was going to claim my prize danced in my head. I wasn't sure how I wanted to come. I'd narrowed it down to either fucking her doggy style (no doubt with a fist full of her hair) or fucking her tits. I hadn't done that in ages, and it seemed like it might be fun to spurt all over her boobs.

But it turned out I was putting the cart before the horse. Because although I had her close, I was having serious trouble putting her over the edge. I blame Freya. Hey, it's my blog, I can blame who I want. Seriously, though, she was making it difficult. She'd grab my wrist with her hand and push down on my hand, seriously restricting my ability to move. Then when I couldn't swirl my fingers just right she'd get frustrated. And in Freya frustration kills orgasms. Me, I love being teased and denied. She just gets angry. So about the fourth time I had her on the knife's edge, only to lose it, she pushed my hand away entirely.

Now things could have ended there. After all, I'd failed at our challenge. I'd not gotten her off with my hand. She would have had a good case for saying "Time to sleep", and as frustrating as it would have been I couldn't really have argued.

But she had to push it.

She reached over and took my hard cock in her hands, squeezing and rubbing it. And the more she did that the less content I was with the idea of just rolling over and going to sleep. She had me gasping and squirming as she squeezed, and I started thinking some very crazy thoughts. The kind of internal dialogues where part of me tried to convince the rational section of my brain that raping her would be a good idea, that what she really wanted was for me to "force" her. That all would be forgiven in the morning.

Luckily I didn't have to find out which part of my psyche would have won that argument. Because instead of saying "No", as I expected, when I told her to spread her legs so I could fuck her she obediently followed my command. I was on her in a flash, sinking my cock into that warm, soaking wet pussy. She was holding herself open, using her fingers to pull her labia obscenely wide, giving me maximum ability to penetrate.

We fucked like a couple of animals, me plunging hard and fast, she gasping and bucking up into me. I tried not to go too crazy, to give myself a chance at holding out for awhile. All my resolve was lost, though, when I heard her whimpering and felt her orgasm beginning. I started slamming into her with all the force I could.

"Oh, baby, keep going," she moaned. She never calls me 'baby' during sex, except when she's out of her mind with pleasure. That was all it took, the come poured out of me in one huge spurt after another. She was moaning now, coming with me as we both pounded our way through orgasm.

Did I win the challenge? Hard to say I lost, considering how things ended up. On the other hand (hah!) I didn't make her come the way she'd requested. How would you score that, officially?

Maybe we'll call it a tie.

The Why of Sex Blogging

2009-02-12T05:28:00.000-08:00

I've been carrying on an imaginary conversation in my head. I picture someone, a prospective sex blogger perhaps, asking me some questions. Here's my answers.

Why do you blog about your sex life?

Bottom line: it's fun. I started blogging about it because I wanted to brag a little bit. Not in the sense of "Hey, my sex life is better than yours". Because honestly, when it comes to sex blogs there's plenty of people with much wilder stories to tell than me. As I often say, though, it's not a contest. Just because someone else's sex is more on the edge doesn't preclude them from giving me a virtual high five. There's also a powerful exhibitionist element to it. It's a heady feeling knowing that people read about my exploits and get turned on. A couple readers have said they used some of my stories as inspiration in their own sex lives, and I can't imagine a higher compliment for a sex blog.

Does blogging about it help your sex life?

I think it does, if only because it's made me think about what I like and why. It's also been great writing about stuff I've done in the past and reminding myself just how much sex I've actually had. It's easy to think only about the here and now, but reading back over the stories I've written sometimes makes me think "Wow, my wife and I have done a lot of fucking, and some of it was pretty kinky". That's helped give me new ideas, or reminded me of things I'd like to do again.

I've also come to appreciate my wife a lot more. Writing up all the things we've done together has really driven home how sexy, passionate, and kinky she is. Day to day, with kids and work and all the other pressures of life, it's easy to forget how hot she is in the bedroom. Writing up the stories of our sex life has been a great reminder.

Is there any down side to sex blogging?

A couple of things. One is the pressure to do something blog-worthy. I sometimes find if I haven't had sex for a long time (a week or so) I start feeling like I better get some soon, or I'll look like the worst sex blogger ever. The other problem, and I know this isn't just me, is that sometimes you find yourself thinking "How am I going to blog this?" all the time. I'll be getting my wife naked, running my hands over her body, and I'll find myself trying to cement what we're doing and saying in my head for later blogging. That can be a little distracting. I've also found myself once or twice holding back on saying something really outrageous in bed, thinking "Do I really want to write about this?" Which is crazy, since I don't have to write anything, but my self-imposed commitment makes me think I do.

I've had sex, I like writing about sex - should I be a sex blogger?

Sure. But I'll caution that you should decide how much you want to reveal about yourself ahead of time, and make sure that's enough to keep an interesting blog. I've chosen to write only about sex, and give only the barest details about the rest of my life. Other sex bloggers, such as the very popular Always Aroused Girl include a lot more about their life outside of sex. Since I've been having sex for 20 years and have sex with my wife on a regular basis that gave me enough to write about - mostly. I still had occasions where I struggled. If you're pretty new to the whole sex thing you'd better be ready to write about other stuff or you'll find yourself lacking in material. It doesn't have to be details about your life, it could be your reviews and analysis of porn and sex toys, or maybe your observations about beauty and fashion. Heck, you could intersperse details of your sex life with reviews of horror movies, if you think you can find a way to combine those into a whole that would attract readers.

I'll also say that what you write about is for the most part less important than how well you do it. Some of the best sex bloggers can make seemingly vanilla sex sound very, very hot. They're helped by the fact that sex is, in fact, quite erotic: the simplest, least kinky sex I've ever had was hotter than any porn I've ever read. And yet bad writing can just kill the sexy. There are some sex bloggers that can use a single sentence to describe a sex scene and make it scorching, while less skilled writers can make an S&M orgy seem boring. Take care with how your write, not just what you write about.

End of Days?

2009-02-11T05:19:00.000-08:00

Fair warning: I'm giving serious thought to ending the blogging days of Rooster Crowe. Not due to any crisis, I'm just feeling like this blog has pretty much run its course. I've shared the details of my past, and hopefully painted a pretty good picture of my current, sex life. I don't really lack for things to write about, since I intend to keep nailing Freya for decades to come. But I can't shake the feeling that it's getting a bit repetitive, at least in my descriptions. Sex with my wife never gets old, but I'm not sure I'm a good enough writer to keep it interesting to read about.

It's also the case that I've got some other bloggy type things I'm mulling, and there's only so many hours in the day. With kids, and work, and all the other things in life I have to spend my time on I can't really maintain multiple blogs, not and do any kind of justice to them.

Anyway, that's what I'm thinking about. This isn't a thinly veiled attempt to get lots of people to hit me with "Please don't go! I love your writing so much!" messages. I've gotten plenty of positive blog feedback in the past, more than enough to satisfy my ego. I just figured it would be nice to say something before having a "This is my last post" message.

And I'll definitely keep writing for a bit, at least through Valentine's Day. Because for the first time in three years I intend to get laid on V-Day, and darn it I want to brag about it.

Breaking The Prisoner

2009-02-10T05:33:00.000-08:00

The room was well lit, but sparsely furnished. A bed, a desk with a computer on it, not much else. Laying on the bed was a gorgeous 19 year old girl. She was, much to my delight, completely naked. Even more intriguing was the fact that her wrists were encircled with leather cuffs, with ropes securing them to the bed. Thus her arms were up over her head, causing her rather large tits to be thrust up a bit. She had her legs pressed tightly together, but both of us knew there was no way she could protect her pussy if I wanted it. She was here, and she was mine.

There wasn't really any fear in her eyes, though, because this was just a sex game we were playing. One of our more elaborate, at least at that point in our relationship. The game was simple. I'd made a little program on the computer (a Commodore-64, and honestly how many of you have even seen one of those much less used it for sexual purposes?) that let her type in a number. Then it cleared the screen and locked. I had to type in the number she'd chosen in order to unlock it. My goal was to torture her until she told me the code. How very "24" of us, no? Of course my tortures weren't going to involve blow torches or bamboo shoots under the fingernails. They'd be a lot more sexual in nature, and not so painful. Oh, and afterwards I was going to fuck her. I can't remember if that was supposed to be part of the game, me "raping" her after I got the information I wanted, or if we just figured it was the natural outcome. She was 19, I was 21, and pretty much all our evenings ended up with sex.

I started in on her, telling her to give me the code or I'd hurt her. She refused, naturally. Wouldn't have been much of a game if she'd given up right away. So I started i on her. First I slapped her across the tits. Not that hard, really. But enough to sting a little, and there's something about getting smacked in the boobs that puts Freya into a submissive mode. If I slap her across the face that makes her angry. The looks she's given me when I've done that have been murderous. And yes, all those occasions when I've struck her on the cheek were part of a game. I've never raised my hand to her outside of sexual situations where she'd agreed to it ahead of time. Anyway, a face slap raises her hackles, but a slap on her big, soft boobs just makes her blue eyes widen and her attitude a lot more cooperative.

Anyway, a few minutes of me slapping her breasts had her breathing heavy and wincing every time I twitched my hand. I was playing cat and mouse games with her, holding my hand up for an extended period before I'd deliver a blow. Sometimes I'd swing hard, then pull back so I only lightly touched her. Other times I'd deliver a stinging slap out of nowhere. Again, I hasten to add that I was hardly beating her up. No bruises, no welts, not even any lasting red marks on her boobs. We were playing, and serious S&M types would probably laugh at me even calling it torture. But hey, it worked. A few minutes of that and she was telling me the code.

Or so she claimed. When I went to try it on the computer, though, I got an "Access Denied" message. She'd just made up a number to buy herself a break. Needless to say that pissed me off. As I came back to the bed she had a smirk on her face. Back then I wasn't comfortable with calling her names, otherwise I'd probably have said something like "Ok, bitch, you asked for it". I'm sure my look carried that message loud and clear, though.

I started with twisting her nipples. Now Freya's nipples are pretty flat, with very broad areolas. (That's my favorite kind of nipple, by the way). So I pinched a pretty broad area of skin in my fingers, then twisted. Again not as hard as I do now, as we were young and still exploring the boundaries of our sexual preferences. But hard enough to make her face take on a pained expression, biting her lower lip as she tried to endure. I'd twist first one nipple, then the other, and occasionally sprinkle in some slaps to her tits. I'll give her credit, though, she still wouldn't talk. I'd ask her what the code was and she'd say "I don't remember". So I tried a new tactic, that of mental rather than physical torture. I put my hand over her mouth and then pinched her nose shut, cutting off her ability to breath. Fifteen or twenty seconds of that had her twisting in her bonds, trying to get her mouth out from under my hand. I'd take it off, letting her breathe a few big gasps, then clamp it back on. I never kept her unable to breathe very long, and this is one thing that even today I'd be hesitant to push. Breath play can be dangerous, and the last thing I want to do is hurt Freya seriously. Even just playing at this torment was working, though. After letting her breath for a few moments when I moved to cover her mouth she moaned "Not again".

She still wasn't broken, though. I'd ask her for the code, and she'd say nothing. I decided to try something new, a little thing I'd thought of specifically for this. Going to the table I picked up something I'd hidden behind the computer. A long white candlestick. I approached her with it, and apparently the look in my eye told her exactly what I intended to do with it. She knew without me threatening that I intended to fuck her with it.

Now you have to understand that back then she'd never played with any sex toys. She'd never used a dildo or a vibrator, and the only things that had been inside her were fingers (hers and mine) and of course my cock. The candle I had wasn't very big around, so it wasn't like I was threatening to fuck her with some monstrous object. But she broke down instantly, calling out the code before I even took three steps towards the bed. I typed it into the computer, and was granted full access.

Having won our little game I untied her hands and fucked her right there on the bed. To be honest I don't remember the details of the sex. I'm sure it was awesome - even at 19 she was an incredible piece of ass, and like me she'd gotten quite turned on during out little game. We haven't played anything quite like that since, but maybe we should. With laptops we could play it in any room, even our bedroom. Of course I'd have to use something a lot bigger to threaten her with. She's hardly the queen of sex toys, but she's had enough of them inside her (including one rather large dildo that's way bigger than me) that she wouldn't be intimidated so easily. She's tougher in a lot of ways after years spent gaining experiences such getting tattoos, giving birth, and generally living life. It'd be fun to see how much longer she could hold out now, and what it would take to break her down.

Plus she's still an incredible piece of ass.

Sex Report: Kiss of Bliss

2009-02-09T05:44:00.000-08:00

When I have sex with my wife there's usually a certain sense of urgency, an intensity that's both physical and emotional. When I kiss her I do so hard, a lot of times like I'm trying to devour her. My fingers tend to dig into her soft flesh, I push my cock hard and deep into her pussy, and generally there's an air of animalistic desire to the whole affair. There's a number of reasons for this, the primary one being that when it comes to sex I'm fairly aggressive. I tend to be dominant when we have sex, and a lot of what I do with (or to) Freya is in support of that. I simply adore being the hardness to her softness, the penetrator to her receptor. I'm sure there are some women who would find me a lousy lover because they don't like their sex that way. Luckily I'm married to Freya, and judging by how hard and frequently she comes when we have sex I'd say she's into it.

So over the weekend we had a very different kind of sex. It was morning, and that alone put us in a different place than usual. Most of our sex happens at night, as you can imagine. It's always been that way, but once we had kids that got even more pronounced. Having little ones either crying for their bottle or running around their rooms wanting breakfast is not conducive to sex. If you've got kids I'm not telling you anything you don't know, if you don't then trust me.

But this weekend we only had the baby home with us, thanks to a sleepover at a friend's house. And come 10 AM or so it was time for baby to take a nap. Gee, what could a couple of parents do on a fine weekend morning while their infant child snoozed? Yeah, maybe five minutes after we put the baby down we were both naked in our own room.

Now me, I was ready to move to The Plan. I will admit to being perhaps too goal oriented in sex. I sometimes think of the whole process as a series of stages to be reached, kind of like a naked version of Super Mario Brothers. The stages go something like this:

Get Freya naked
Play with her body
Get cock inside Freya
Make her climax
If possible, repeat (4)
Fill Freya's pussy with come

Maybe a little on the predictable side, but it's a great plan. And given how it's led to a couple thousand orgasms on her part and tons of sex I would rate as "Awesomely Epic" I think I'm on solid footing. So having achieved (1) I was moving to (2), trying to pull Freya to me so I could get my hands on those big, soft boobs of hers. She pushed me away, though. Playfully, but firmly.

Instead of letting me fondle her she had me lie on the bed, on my back. Then she proceeded to tease me a little. She kissed and nibbled on my neck and chest, and rubbed her tits all over my body. That's a reason I'm totally into women with big boobs, the thrill of having them dangle them over you and drag them all across your flesh. Every time I tried to put my hands on her she would shoo them away, making me lay there passively while she worked on me.

When my wife stood up beside the bed and started pulling her hair back into a pony tail I wanted to high five someone. Because I figured she was doing it in preparation for sucking me off a little. She usually pulls her hair back when she goes down on me to keep it out of the way. Nothing is more distracting while blowing a guy than having stray hairs in your mouth. It turns out, though, that her lips weren't going anywhere near my dick. Instead she straddled me, lining her hips up with mine so that our groins were pressed together. My shaft was lodged in the groove of her pussy, right between her labia. I could feel that she was wet, that her slit was right against the base of my dick. She still wouldn't let me touch her, as I found out when I tried to put my hands on her tits. I had to lay there with my hands behind my head as she slid her pussy back and forth on my cock, getting it nice and wet and not incidentally driving me crazy with lust. Then she slid onto my cock, impaling herself with a single slow thrust. It felt so good to be inside her I wanted to cheer. I did tell her how good she felt, and she smiled.

Now even when my wife is on top our sex often goes according to the plan I detailed above. Years of sex with me has had its effect, and when she fucks cowgirl she rides hard. I love the way she does that, grinding against me hard and deep as she tries to make herself come. And the closer she gets to orgasm the more force she puts into her hip gyrations, to the point that she often gets to bouncing up and down on me with wild abandon. No doubt about it, this girl really knows how to ride a cock.

That's not how she fucked me this time, however. She was moving slow, sliding her pussy back and forth on my cock as if she was in no hurry. And she was kissing me, leaning over to put her lips on mine. They weren't the hungry kisses of unbridled lust, but more gentle and soft. Sometimes I get too aggressive when I kiss Freya, putting my hands behind her head and pulling her towards me. Makes her feel trapped sometimes. Not my intention - when I do that it's because I'm trying to express physically the consuming passion I have for her. These kisses weren't like that, though. They weren't the casual "See you later, honey, I'm going to work" kinds of kisses we trade in the morning. They were wetter, with more tongue, but not to the point of being intensely sexual. That's a funny thing to say about kisses that were delivered while we were actually having sex, but that's the way it was. It was like our lips were pressed together as they someplace where we were making out in semi-public, an expression more of love and affection than anything, while at the same time the rest of our bodies were engaged in a much more intimate expression of our union. One thing for sure, it was heavenly. Not hurried or intense, just a slow journey together as we kisses and fucked each other seemingly forever.

I won't lie, things got a bit more intense as Freya approached climax. Her movements got more urgent as she started bouncing on my cock rather than just rolling her hips slowly. I had my hands on her hips now, pulling her onto me with every down stroke. We weren't kissing any more, she had pulled up and I could see her face twisted with the exquisite agonized look of one about to have an orgasm. My own climax was boiling up as well. I'd thought I would be able to hold out, to maybe give her the chance for more than one orgasm, but as she got close to coming I realized I was done for. We both finished, me crying out and twisting while she moaned and fucked herself into oblivion. For both of us it was a long, intense finish to what had been a very languid session of sex.

We lay together in bed for a long, long time after that. I spent most of that time thinking of those kisses, and how much I love the woman who was giving them to me. Don't worry, though, I'm not likely to turn into a squishy romantic now. Next time we'll probably be back to the aggressive, maybe even rough, fucking. Next time we've got plenty of time and nothing to do, though, we may try that again. It was a very nice change of pace.

Scene from Another Life (Fantasy Friday)

2009-02-06T06:55:00.000-08:00

Another in my series of "What if?" stories. It was really unlikely that my wife Freya and I would ever actually be in the same city, much less meet. But by random chance we did, both of us at least a few hundred miles from home. It would have been so easy for us to miss one another. A single day's shift in schedule, me sleeping in that morning instead of going to the place we met, a thousand details had to line up just right. So what if we hadn't met that day? If I saw her again years later would I have had any inkling that she was supposed to be The One? Here's a highly unrealistic, but hopefully sexy, glimpse of what that universe might look like.

I do not love strip clubs. I know, what's not to love about overpriced drinks, sleazy women trying to scam you out of every last dollar pretending to like you (but secretly having nothing but contempt for how pathetic you are), and semi-literate bouncers who'll take any opportunity to bully you. All right, I exaggerate a little. I'm sure some of the bouncers are very well read. Mostly Nietzsche, I would guess.

Nonetheless there I was, sitting in the main room of the Sands Showgirls club in lovely Seattle. Lovely if you're into rain, anyway. I was in the club because my cousin was getting married the next day and his groomsmen (of which I was one) had come here for his bachelor party. It had been the best man's idea. He claimed that this was the best club in Seattle, that the girls were not only hot they were willing to bend Seattle's "no touching" policy more than any others in town. My cousin was pretty clearly into it, as were the other guys, so I didn't complain. And I'm not going to pretend I'm a martyr here. For all my mockery I was sitting around watching women strip naked and prance around. Yeah, some of them were really sleazy, but that's not exactly a deal breaker. So I sat with the rest of our crew, cheering along with them when the best man paid top dollar for one of girls to take our groom-to-be to the VIP area. He paid enough to keep my cousin in there for a good half hour, which meant he had plenty of time for a little VIP action himself. He picked out the sleaziest, skankiest dancer they had, a peroxide blond who went by the unlikely name of Crystal Deluxe. A couple of the other guys likewise paid for the VIP treatment, and I was beginning to see that the "I" didn't really mean Important so much as I'm Willing to Pay for Lap Dances.

That's how I came to be sitting at the table with only two other guys, neither of whom I'd met before tonight. One was married, and thus taking a pass on the VIP room, while the other had a girlfriend (although it seemed more like a parole officer, as he called her at least half a dozen times during the night to check in - apparently she wasn't thrilled with the evening's choice of venue). As for me I was without wife or girlfriend, so I didn't have any reason not to indulge myself. Except of course for my knowledge that as hot as some of these women were they didn't see a man, they saw a wallet. Kind of kills the sexy for me.

I will admit, though, my interest more than perked up when a curvaceous blond approached the table. She had beautiful blue eyes, but what just completely captivated me was her smile. It was radiant, warm, and looked sincere - so much different than the faked grins most of the women here wore plastered to their faces. I am a complete sucker for a pretty face, and this one was outstanding. That's not to say I didn't note some of her other, ahem, winning features. Like her very large boobs, barely contained in a bikini top that was at least one cup size too small for the task at hand. She was rounder and not as skinny as most of the strippers in the club, with wide hips that sways so very pleasantly as she walked. She had tattoos on her feet, which was unusual. A number of the girls had ink, of course, but mostly on their lower backs, arms, or legs. This girl's tattoos went across the tops of both feet, which had to have been painful to get.

"Having a good night?" she asked me, looking me right in the eye. I was captivated. Something about this chick just completely knocked me out of my too-cool-for-school superiority when it came to the girls working here. She just didn't seem like she fit in, even though she was so hot it made my mouth dry.

"Not bad," I said, trying to sound cool. I'd been approached by three or four other girls that night and had had no trouble staying nonchalant. Now I found myself desperately wanting to impress her somehow.

"My name's Freya," she said, leaning forwards a little so that I could hear her over the house music. It looked like her tits might spill out of her top, which at that point I definitely wouldn't have minded.

"Like the Norse goddess?" I asked her. I was curious about the name, which like the woman herself was out of place here.

"Exactly like that," she said, her smile somehow getting wider. "Almost no one ever gets that."

She leaned in closer, her face now right in front of mine. I could smell perfume on her, some kind of vanilla. I was so very turned on, the sight of her beautiful face filling my field of vision. I hadn't ever felt that kind of instant attraction for a woman.

"You want to come with me to the back room for a private dance?" she asked me. She had one hand on the table, and her bare forearm brushed lightly against my shoulder. I ached to reach out and touch her, but I knew that would bring a quick reaction from the bouncers.

"How much?" I asked, proving that even as smitten as I was I remained a cheapskate. Sure, the most beautiful woman I'd ever seen might be offering to strip naked and wiggle around in my lap, but darn it I was going to make sure it was fiscally responsible. Yes, I am an idiot.

"Since you actually recognized the name Freya how about the first dance is on me?" she asked. "After that we'll see how much you think I'm worth."

"I'm not sure Bill Gates has enough money for what you're worth," I said, recovering a bit of my smoothness. Okay, maybe that wasn't that smooth, but at least I was complimenting her instead of advertising that I was a penny pincher.

So I went with her to the VIP area. I'd expected it to be separate rooms, but it was actually on big room with lots of couches and such. They were set up in such a way that when you were sitting on the couch you were looking at the wall and not the other guys there, but as she led me over to one I couldn't help but check out the action. My cousin's stripper was completely naked and straddling his lap as she gyrated her hips. He had both hands on her ass and a really goofy grin on his face. The best man was in a really dark corner, and for a second I didn't see the sleazy girl he'd come back with. Then my eyes caught sight of some movement and I realized her head was in his lap bobbing up and down in the unmistakable fashion of someone giving a blow job. I was stunned at that, but then again he had said this place would let you get away with almost anything.

I sat on a couch as instructed by Freya, and she gave me the promised free song's worth of dancing. Okay, it wasn't exactly dancing so much as rhythmic swaying, but it was fucking awesome to watch. She knew how to wiggle, that's for sure. And she could tease something fierce. She bent over in front of me, her cleavage jiggling right in front of my eyes as she rocked back and forth. More than once she hooked her thumbs under the straps holding the bikini top up, stretching and lifting them as if she was about to pull it off. But she never did, and throughout the song I didn't get so much as a glimpse of her naked breasts. She touched me occasionally, a hand on my shoulder or knee, a brush of her leg against mine. A few times she leaned in to whisper in my ear, making me drunk with the smell of her perfume and lightly rubbing her cheek against mine. That touch of skin on skin sent shivers through me, and I wanted to reach out and touch her. But she'd warned me off that, saying it wasn't part of the freebie.

"So what do you think it's worth to see more?" she said when the song ended.

"How much more?" I asked, my throat dry.

"That depends," she said, moving in close again so she could whisper into my ear. "Do you want to just see my tits? Or would you like me completely naked? You want to find out if I'm shaved down there? What would it be worth to see for yourself?"

"How about this," I said, reaching into my wallet and pulling out several twenty dollar bills. Okay, so maybe I hadn't come completely unprepared for tipping strippers, for all my attitude of superiority. Hey, good thing I hadn't, right?

"Mmmm, very nice," she purred. "That's enough to let you see everything you'd like."

Over the next two songs she proceeded to strip off what little she was wearing. When you consider that her clothing consisted of a bikini top, a thong, and high heeled shoes it's amazing she drug it out that long. It didn't seem like she was stalling, though, more like the greatest erotic site I'd ever witnessed. A dozen times she'd make me think she was about to take something off, and every time she put it off. Every once in awhile she'd let me catch sight what was hidden by the thin cloth, flashing a nipple or the briefest of glimpse of her pussy. But then she'd cover back up and give me a look that said "Not yet" as she continued to gyrate her hips and shake those big tits. She also got a lot more free with the touching, placing her hands on my legs for extended periods while she wiggled and swayed in front of me. Once she sat on my thigh for several seconds, a hand on my shoulder while she played with the strap on her top.

By the time she was finished, though, she was completely naked. And her nude body was a glorious thing to see. I could tell from their shape and the way they moved her tits were natural. They sagged more than implants would, but I like that. I want flesh, not plastic. She had flat nipples that were very broad, at least the size of silver dollars. Her pussy was indeed shaved completely bare, and it was beautiful. Needless to say I imagined what it would feel like to touch it, to sink my cock into her. I wanted her then more than I've ever wanted any woman.

"Would you like to touch me?" she said, leaning in close so that those naked tits dangled in front of my face.

"Yes," I answered simply.

"Where?" she asked. "What would you like to touch?"

"Everything," I answered honestly.

"My tits?" she asked. I nodded.

"My pussy?" she continued. I nodded again.

"How much do you want to touch me?" she whispered in my ear, her boobs now pressed against my shoulder. It took a supreme act of will not to reach out for her, to feel that skin under my hands.

I didn't even try to negotiate. I just took out a bunch more twenties and handed them over. We were beyond the point of assigning value. I mean really, how can you put a price tag on being able to touch the sexiest woman you've ever seen?

Afterwards she straddled my lap, putting a knee on either side of my hips and settling her bare pussy on the crotch of my pants. I was rock hard, as you can imagine, and I know she could feel my erection under her. I held my hands up near her breasts, looking at her questioningly.

"Go ahead and touch them," she said. I did, grabbing one in each hand. I loved how they were way more than a handful, there was no way I could contain all that flesh with just one hand. They were soft, too, and under the pressure of my thumbs her nipples perked up a bit. Meanwhile she was rocking her hips, grinding her crotch against mine in a way that felt so very, very good.

We stayed like that for awhile, her grinding against me while I ran my hands all over her body. At one point I slid my right hand down her stomach, heading for her pussy. She didn't stop me, and in fact raised up a bit so I could slip my hand under her and get a clear shot at her. I slipped a finger between her labia, feeling for her slit. She was very wet, I was pleased to feel. She'd been smiling and acting like she loved being in my lap, and I wanted to believe that she was having a good time, but deep down I knew it was her job to make me think she was attracted to me. I slid a couple fingers inside her, making her gasp. I slid them back and forth inside her, hoping I was doing it in a way she liked.

"I don't usually let guys do that," she gasped, continuing to rock her hips. Her mouth formed a little O as I found a particularly sensitive spot.

"Right there," she said urgently. "Keep rubbing right there and you'll make me come."

Sounded good to me. I kept stroking that spot inside her, my hand getting soaked with her juices as I finger fucked her. She had her arms around my neck, eyes closed, as she ground against my hand. Either she was really into this or she was an amazing actress. Then she started moaning, crying out "Oh, oh, oh" as she had an orgasm right there in my lap. Her face was exquisite, a mask of seeming pain that I knew was in fact pure pleasure.

"That was so good," she said afterwards, her face looking very content. I still had my fingers inside her, but she gently guided my hand away from her pussy.

"Here, let me pay you back," she said, and once again she lowered herself onto my crotch. Only now she was grinding against me with a purpose, clearly trying to get me off through my clothes. There was so little separating my cock from her wet, soft pussy, and the friction was driving me crazy. I could feel myself getting ready to come. Part of me worried about the mess, but mostly I just wanted her to keep grinding. She did, and I started doing some gasping and moaning of my own as I started spurting. It was fucking great, better than most orgasms I'd ever had when I was actually fucking. She urged me on the whole time, telling me to come inside her, to fill her up, pretending she was actually fucking me.

And that was that. She put her clothes back on and went out to the main floor, wishing me a good night and thanking me for my business. I watched her walk away, enjoying the look of those wide hips swaying back and forth as she moved. For some reason I felt a sense of loss when she got out of sight, like I'd missed out on something. I couldn't shake the feeling that she was special, that if we'd met in some other situation we'd have been something more than stripper and customer. Stupid, I know. I guess I could have tried to talk to her, to ask her out or something, but I was pretty sure the ship had sailed on that. Once you've paid a woman for sexual services I think that pretty much kills any chance of a relationship. I did have a very good memory, though, and that's something. Realistically with a woman that hot what more could I ask for?

Sex Report: A Bite in the Dark

2009-02-05T09:34:00.000-08:00

It was late, the lights were off, and we were snuggled into bed. I'd dropped some hints about wanting to have sex, but my wife hadn't taken any of them up. And she was very, very tired after a long day's Mommying. Caring for little ones can be hard. So instead of pressing the issue I figured I'd let her get a good night's sleep then try again the next night. As we lay there, however, my arm over her shoulder so I could hold her closer, she kept rubbing and stroking my forearm with her hand. Could she be trying to sooth herself or me to sleep? Or was that a signal she might be interested after all? There was only one thing to do.

I bit her.

Not hard, not in a vampiric way. I just moved her blond hair aside, nuzzled up close to her neck, and gave her a not-entirely-gentle nip. Then I sucked the skin between my teeth, making her whisper not to leave a mark. Her great fear, I think, is that I'll leave a bunch of hickeys on her where people can see them the next day. Sometimes I leave marks on her back, or her breasts, just because of that fact. Only she and I will see them, but even when she's dressed we'll both know they're there. She complains, but I think she secretly doesn't mind. She's told me before she kind of likes it when I leave marks on her, be they bruises or what have you. Discreet marks, of course, nothing where anyone will see. It's the reason I dig my fingers into her thighs when I spread her legs wide, or slap her ass nice and hard when I'm fucking her from behind. Because I like seeing those marks on her as much as she does. Maybe more.

So I bit her some more, nibbled and nipped at her neck, her collarbone, her ear. Kissed her, and she was kissing me back enough to let me know she was at least open to the idea of sex. So I kept at it. I had a hand under her nightgown fondling her boobs (and even if she ended up declining my offer I could declare a certain amount of victory there just being able to have gotten some time playing with those big, soft tits of hers). I continued kissing and biting her neck, and wherever I moved she would tilt her head to give me better access to that area. Finally I judged it was time to make my move. I climbed over her, putting my knees between hers. I had to force her legs apart a little - she was playing at the idea that she might not agree to fuck me after all that. We both knew we were far past the point of no return. She likes a little forcefulness from me, though, and I simply adore dishing it out. So I got my knees between hers and forced her legs to spread wide, moving up so that my cock was positioned near her slit. Her nightgown was still on, just pushed up to her ribs. Unusual for us, normally I like to get her completely naked. I can honestly say I didn't really notice, as I was too interested in getting my cock inside her. I was so very hard, and her pussy was right there, wet and inviting.

I pushed into her and sank all the way in in one quick, smooth stroke. She was soaking wet and very ready to be fucked.

"I love it when your pussy is like that," I sighed. "So smooth and wet and easy to penetrate."

"I though you liked it kind of dry?" she said. I had said that, although I'm pretty sure I said I "sometimes" liked it.

"Only because I know it hurts," I replied, making her laugh. It's perhaps twisted but true, I do sometimes like having to force myself into her when she's dry, pushing in inch by inch as I wedge myself deeper and deeper inside her, hearing her gasps of pain as I force more and more of my cock in. Makes me feel huge, and it's fairly dominant. She doesn't really suffer that much, of course, and a lot of her little whimpers and gasps are as much for my benefit as due to any pain she feels. It's still hot, though.

In any event I was in her good and deep, and I started fucking her. I kept a slow pace, but I was thrusting nice and deep every time. I wanted her to come, and I frankly didn't want to wait too long. I wanted her moaning and groaning ASAP, because I wanted to absolutely flood her pussy with my come. So I kept pushing in hard and deep, trying to make every thrust count. I could tell it was having the desired effect by the way she said nothing, just kept wiggling her hips around beneath me as she tried to help me find the best angle of penetration.

She was quiet while I fucked her, concentrating solely on her pleasure. I could tell from her breathing, which was getting faster and more shallow, that she was approaching climax. So was I, and it was going to be a close race which of us came first. She bucked her hips up into me, moving her pussy in a way that was pure heaven for me. I was getting so deep, every bit of my cock sliding into her hole and across her clit. She was almost there, it was just a question of whether I could hold out long enough.

"Almost there," I said through gritted teeth. "I'm gonna fill you up."

"Almost..." she repeated with a gasp, and I knew what she meant. She was about to come as well.

Then I was spurting inside her, and she was moaning loudly as she fucked against me in a frenzied way. She started coming, making a loud cry as the orgasm began. I completely emptied myself in her, fulfilling my promise to flood her pussy with my come. The whole time she was having her own orgasm, moaning quietly the whole time.

We lay together afterwards for awhile, my cock still inside her, until I finally pulled out and rolled over. She made a disappointed noise, and I asked her what the matter was.

"It's over," she said, sounding like she definitely could have gone for another orgasm or two. The down side of fucking a multi-orgasmic woman, I suppose. You're never quite sure when they're done. Usually she just has the one when I'm on top, but this time she apparently wanted more. Not that night, though. I was spent, and it was late.

Besides, there's always tomorrow night.

Dreams Remembered

2009-02-04T07:25:00.001-08:00

A commenter asks:

how does your wife know she orgasms in her sleep? does she remember it? does it wake you up? wake her up?

When Freya has sex dreams it's usually the case that she's in a half-asleep/half-awake state. A lot of times she'll wake up enough to realize what's going on and purposefully try to guide the dream into a sexier state. In reality it might be that she's just fantasizing really vividly as much as she is dreaming. Although she's enough asleep that it's not always under control what will happen and who will show up. From time to time she finds herself having dream sex with someone completely unexpected. One of the more memorable times she told me later had her very confuse. Her exact quote: "I was wondering why a girl I hadn't seen from high school was in the shower with me. Then I was wondering why she had a strap on". I'd pay good money to be able to get a DVD of those mental images, I can tell you that.

Sometimes the dream isn't getting things done and she wakes up enough to use her hand to finish herself off. Thus far I've never caught her in the act. She usually has these dreams when she's taking a nap during the day, while I'm at work. I think that's because she's not sleeping as deeply.

Me, I get maybe one kind of sexy dream every six months. Apparently my sub-conscious doesn't really get into erotic dreams, curse it.

Barely Legal Teen In Wild Hotel Sex Romp

2009-02-03T06:12:00.000-08:00

Please excuse the headline of this post, but I'm told it's sweeps week.

It was the early 1990s. Disco was but a distant memory, New Wave was old news, and Kurt Cobain was telling us what teens smelled like. I had a bit of expertise in that area myself, as I was dating a teenager at the time. A gorgeous blond with big boobs and the prettiest smile I'd ever seen, whose 18th birthday had passed only a few months before. And when I say "dating" I mean we saw one another every few months (due to us living several states away from one another) and on those occasions we spent as much time as possible fucking our brains out.

Now there's nothing like young lust to make all kinds of places seem like reasonable areas for sex. We'd done it on the floor of her living room many a night, as well as in her tiny bed, on the couch, and we'd even had an extended session of her giving me a blow job in the woods. The sex was great, but we always had to keep one ear listening for the sound of her parents. Yes, that's right, my brain was addled enough to hormones and desire that I would regularly pound my beautiful teenage girlfriend's pussy just down the hall from her sleeping parents. Had her father, a marine (you don't say "former" marine, because once you're a marine you're always a marine) who had earned two purple hearts in 'Nam, ever woken up and caught us you probably wouldn't be reading this blog now. Either that or I'd be writing about the exciting new advances in spinal chord injuries and how maybe they'd let me get out of the hospital someday.

As an aside, her pussy would totally have been worth it. She was fucking amazing the way she wiggled underneath me while I fucked her. I had to cover her mouth with my hand while she came, otherwise her cries might have awoken her parents. That was pretty hot, thrusting into her soaking wet pussy while her moans were muffled beneath my palm.

Aside #2: That teenager grew up to be my now 30-something wife Freya, and she's even better now. I don't have to cover her mouth any more, and hearing her moan is even better.

Anyway, we of course were envious of people that got to have sex in a more relaxed setting, without worrying about being discovered. And so I had a fabulous idea. It's so good, in fact, I can't believe no one's thought about it before. Did you know there are businesses that rent out rooms, complete with a bed and everything? You can go to one of these "hotels", I think they're called, and for less than $100 have a room for a whole day and night! So one sunny afternoon I rented one of these rooms, very pleased with myself at how clever I was. That evening when my girlfriend and I went out instead of going to a movie or an arcade we headed to the hotel instead.

It was a real joy to be able to have slow, languid sex, without looking over our shoulder or startling at every noise we heard. And it was our first time doing it in a real bed, a queen sized rather than the tiny little single she had in her room. Plenty of room for her to lay in the middle and spread her legs nice and wide for me. I got on top and fucked her slow, luxuriating in the lack of tension. We had the lights on, another rare thing for us in those days. Normally we'd done it by the light of the television, on the theory that being cloaked in darkness gave us at least a few more seconds should her parents get up.

So I fucked my teenage lover slow and deep, getting to feel her sweet pussy with every inch of my cock. When she came it was volcanic, and I didn't even think about muffling her cries. I just basked in the sounds of her moans as I fucked her into oblivion. It was such a turn on I ended up coming myself, adding my own noises to hers.

Afterwards we showered together, for the first time I believe. Seeing her naked body under the spray, with the water making her skin shiny and slick, got me hard again. I was all over her big tits with my hands and mouth, and I spent a good bit of time with my hand between her legs as I slid a couple fingers into her slit. She gasped a little, but didn't come. She didn't develop her multi-orgasmic tendencies until several years later, after we were married. We fucked again later that evening, trying to get as much use out of the room as possible. Eventually we went back to her parents house for a good night's sleep.

In the morning I went by and checked out of the hotel. Hadn't slept there even a minute, but I couldn't help but feel it was money very well spent.

Sex Report: Watching Me In the Shower

2009-02-02T05:44:00.000-08:00

It was morning, I was in the shower, and I was jerking off. Nothing too unusual about that. I pretty much always spend a little quality personal time in the shower, even if I don't actual finish myself off. What was out of the ordinary was that my wife was in the shower with me, watching. She'd agreed to take a shower with me that morning, but had warned me that we wouldn't be having sex. I'd agreed, but in the back of my mind I was plotting. Scheming, even. And after we'd gotten cleaned up and she thought we were done I made my move.

"Ready to get out?" she asked me, the water flowing down her luscious, naked body. Oh, what a sight.

"One more thing," I replied as I soaped up my hand and started stroking my cock. She hadn't really paid any attention to my erection. She's used to that in the shower - seeing her wet and naked tends to get me hard.

"So you're going to do yourself?" she asked, an amused look on her face.

"Uh huh," I answered. "Now get down on your knees. I want to come all over that pretty face."

"No way," she said firmly. I'd figured that would be her answer. She's really not into that kind of thing, more's the pity.

Instead she put her arms around my neck and leaned in close to watch me. We were facing one another, staring into each other's eyes as I continued to jack off. And that's when I realized something: it can be kind of hard to masturbate while someone's watching. I don't mean just having someone else there participating, maybe urging you on or doing themself while you do. I mean just watching. Freya wasn't saying anything, she was just looking at me. And I was thinking I needed to finish as quick as I could, because hey, she was ready to get out. That turned out to not be a formula for success. You know how a watched pot never boils? A watched cock never comes, it seems.

So I took a new tactic. I looked down, taking in the view of her tits. I leaned forwards a bit, so that now my cock was much closer to her belly. If I couldn't come all over her gorgeous face I could spray onto her belly, couldn't I? That was better. I still felt the pressure of time, though. I let my mind wander a bit, thinking sexy thoughts that might help push me over the edge. No real direction, just whatever popped in there. And what did was Freya on her back, getting fucked against her will. Her fighting and screaming and struggling underneath some brute who kept pounding his huge cock into her helpless pussy, and behind him were lined up a half dozen more guys waiting their turn....

That did it. As images of Freya being gang raped danced across my mind's eye I started coming, spurting come out onto her belly. It wasn't an epic amount, nothing at all porn worthy. Felt pretty good, though, and the sight of it on her wet stomach was pretty hot. She smiled at me as she washed herself off, completely unaware of how rudely she'd been treated in my imagination.

Does what we did even count as sex? She didn't actually touch me in a sexual way, I did all the work myself. We were both there, and both naked, and my come did wind up on her body. But there wasn't any penetration or touching of genitals. I'm pretty sure I'd count it as sex, though. Goodness knows if I found out she'd done that with some other guy I'd think she had cheated on me, and vice versa. So we're going to go ahead and say I got some over the weekend. Hopefully tonight, or tomorrow night, we'll have some sex that's a little more clear cut.

Slave for Sale (Fantasy Friday)

2009-01-29T12:58:00.000-08:00

"How big's his dick?" said the woman looking me over. I was naked and hard, so she could get some idea just by looking, but I guess she wanted an exact number.

"Just over six inches," my girlfriend answered.

"That's all?" the woman responded, sounding disappointed. My cheeks burned a little at that.

"Don't worry," my girlfriend said, patting me on the shoulder as the woman walked away. "She's just a size queen. You've got a great cock."

That brought a smile to my face. It hadn't been too hard for her to talk me into this, a slave auction for charity, but it was turning out to be a lot different than what I'd expected. I'd expected it to be a huge turn on. I mean I was going to be naked, then various women would bid on having me be their sex slave for the night. How was that not going to be hot? I hadn't really counted on the inspections, though. Standing there naked while literally dozens of strange women looked me over critically. And oh, did they have plenty of blush-worthy questions and comments.

"Is he good at licking pussy?"

"Nice abs, he must work out."

"How long's he last when you fuck him?"

"The goatee has to go before I sit on his face."

"Do you ever give it to him with a strap on?"

"Mind if I shave his balls?"

And not all the women were satisfied with just looking. A bunch of them wanted to touch, poke, and prod me. More than one had me open my mouth so they could look at my teeth. I doubt they actually cared, I think they just got off on treating me like an animal. Plenty of them
touched my cock, of course. And despite what the size queen had said I got lots of positive comments. More than one wrapped her hand around my erection and said something like "Nice cock".

Plenty of the women were attractive, but there were some I'd just as soon not have to sleep with. I'd agreed to service whatever woman bought me, no matter what. Hey, anything for charity, right? One of the women was downright scary, though.

"You wanna be my sissy boy?" she said to me. She was a fucking amazon, well over six feet tall and very muscular. I honestly thought she was a drag queen or transsexual, but my girlfriend told me later that no, she was all girl despite the masculine face and very large hands. Her hair was buzz cut short and she had so many piercings in her ears, nose, and lips there was no way she could get through a metal detector.

"How about it?" she continued as I just looked at her. "We'll put some lipstick on you, some makeup, get you all pretty with some sexy lingerie and high heels. Sound like fun?"

"Anything you want, mistress," I said, forcing a smile. Actually it didn't sound like fun at all, but I was supposed to be nice to every potential buyer. And for all I knew acting tough or saying no would just make her want me more.

"Oh, you'd love being my pretty little sissy," the big woman said with a chuckle, standing right in front of me so her height advantage was even more obvious. She had used her fingers to tilt my chin up so I looked into her eyes. I had to suppress a shudder at the thought.

There were more potential buyers, of course, a blur of women checking me out and enjoying a free feel or two. Even getting into the auction cost $50, so despite the fact that many of the women were here for the show with no intention to actually buy plenty was being brought in. After a good ninety minutes of inspection the men going up for auction were herded backstage while a crowd gathered to watch and bid.

So there I was standing around with five other naked men, all of us waiting to have our bodies purchased for a night's entertainment. We stayed pretty quiet, because really what was there to say? All six guys were pretty good specimens, really. I guess that helped keep the bidding high.

"I hope that huge dyke doesn't buy me," said one of the men, breaking the silence. The rest of us laughed at that, all seemingly in agreement.

"You see that red head with the huge tits?" one of the others said. "Man, I'd give her two nights for the price of one."

"Fuck that, I'd give her a month," I said, knowing exactly the woman he was talking about. She'd been wearing an almost obscenely low cut top, and her boobs were in fact enormous. After she'd given me the once over and moved on my girlfriend had joked that I'd been sucking in my gut and trying to flex my muscles the whole time. Which I guess maybe I had.

The auctioneer started talking at that point, and one of the women running the show told us it was time to line up. One by one we would walk out on the stage, and after some introduction from the auctioneer the bidding would start. The woman doing the selling was an older lady, maybe sixty, and she really knew how to work the room. She'd play up all the good features of the guy on the block, and she had testimonials written by each man's wife or girlfriend.

The first guy sold for over six grand, to much applause. And lucky bastard that he was the buyer was the huge titted red head. She came over to claim him with a big smile on her face, putting a collar around his neck and leading him away on a leash. The grin he flashed back at the rest of us guys was epic. I found out later it hadn't been such fun as he'd expected. Basically she just made him clean her house while she followed him around naked shouting orders, then later had him watch while she fucked her husband. He didn't get so much as a hand job out of it.

The second guy was probably the least physically impressive specimen of the six. And I'm not being arrogant here, as I was probably no better than fourth myself. He was the shortest, though, and not so muscular. The amazon bought him for about four grand, and the look on his face was priceless. You'd have thought he was shipping off to war or something from his expression. Continuing in the "don't judge a book by its cover" theme, however, I found out later that he had so much fun that night he and the amazon became a couple. Apparently he got in touch with his inner sissy or something.

I was put on sale third, and the cheer that went up when I took the stage was very ego boosting. I was hard again after having been soft for awhile, something the auctioneer made note of.

"This one looks pretty eager, girls!" she said, pointing at my stiff dick. She rattled off some stats about me, height and weight and age and the like. Then she read the testimonial from my girlfriend.

"If you purchase this man you'll be in for a night of extreme pleasure," the auctioneer said, reading from the letter my girlfriend had typed up. I hadn't seen what it said, so I was quite curious.

"Whether you want him to use his hands, his tongue, or his perfect cock you'll be thrilled with what he can do for you," she went on. "I've had sex with more than a few men in my time, and he is by far the best I've ever had. He can ride you forever, make you come so hard you'll forget your name, and the noises he makes when he climaxes are the sweetest sounds you'll ever hear. The only warning I'll give you is that once you've had him for one night you might find yourself unsatisfied with any other man after that."

Now that's an ego boost. The bidding got really frenzied after that. It blew past four grand, then five, and six. Finally around seventy five hundred things had slowed down, and it looked like the sale was about to be final. The high bidder was a fortyish looking woman, not a knockout but definitely not a chick I'd throw out of bed for eating crackers. The auctioneer announced that it was going once, going twice...

"Ten thousand dollars," said a voice. There was a gasp, and everyone looked to see who the high bidder was.

It was my girlfriend.

No one else tried to outbid her, and so she bought me for what turned out to be the high price of the night. I must have looked very confused as she led me away.

"What, you think I'd really share you with another woman?" she asked, flashing a huge smile at me. "I just wanted to show you off. And I thought you'd enjoy seeing how much other women would pay for you.

"Plus now you have to do anything I want this evening," she continued.

"Yes, mistress," I said humbly. She was right, in thinking about it I was pretty happy about how eager the bidding had been for me.

The sex that night was the best we'd ever had, we went at it for hours and I made her come again and again. After we were finished, covered in sweat as we lay together in bed catching our breath, I told her how good it had been.

"For ten grand it better have been," she said, snuggling against me.

Sexagenarian

2009-01-29T05:37:00.001-08:00

Most of us don't really look forward to getting old. (Although ironically we almost all hope to live long enough to be old, as few people really embrace the whole 'Live fast, die young' concept). There's lots of down side, I'll grant you that. Heck, I'm still a bit shy of 40 and I sometimes get annoyed by the effects of aging. There are some obvious advantages, though. The kids being grown and out of the house, more time to pursue hobbies after retirement, and for many financial security as investments made over a lifetime mature. Oh, and of course there's all the sex. What's that? Don't believe me? Well check out this article. It's about The Villages, a retirement community down in Florida. Possibly you've seen their commercials on TV (I have), and the sex scene is thriving there. The part that, if you're a guy, is really interesting is the female-to-male ratio. Two girls for every boy? Nice try, Beach Boys. Try ten to one. Now the pessimist might think "Gosh, women sure do outlive men". The optimist, however, thinks "Wow, if I last long enough I'll have women throwing themselves at me". Which indeed is what the article describes. Apparently there are lots of older folks who are very much interested in sex, and a couple of the stories (which obviously weren't explicit or detailed) had a "Dear letters to Penthouse" feel to them.

Now at this point I'm sure some of you are thinking "Old people having sex - eww!" Hey, I'm not asking you to watch. I'm just trying to paint some images that'll burn themselves into your mind whether you want them to or not. Um, I mean I'm just doing some reporting. Seriously, though, think it through. Someday, if all goes well, you'll be old. Will you still want to have sex? Very likely, studies show. Now maybe you'll be a Hugh Hefner type, dating women forty or fifty years your junior. Odds are you won't have that kind of fame or money, though, and really do you want to be That Guy? Always wondering if she's really into you, or if she laughs at you behind your back with her much younger lover. Much better to be with someone your own age (give or take a decade - unlike age 25 when you're 70 a ten year age difference really doesn't matter). So let's face it: if you live long enough you're going to be having sex with the elderly. You can be freaked out by that now, or you can look forward to it. I choose the latter.

Now obviously my hope is that when I'm old I'll be having freaky sex with my current wife. But it is fun to think about the possibilities of being a swinging bachelor in a place where I've got a ten to one numerical advantage. There's got to be some guys down there that weren't studs back in their salad days. Maybe they were shorter than the other guys, not as good looking. But now they're 65 and they've got something most of their former rivals don't have: an above ground address. The worm has turned, and now for the first time they've got women coming after them. Sweet!

Taking it a step further, there's got to be some wild stuff going on down there. You know there's sex parties going on, right? Three or four couples, a few singles (almost certainly women), and it's go time. And since they're not working during the day they could have these parties in the morning or early afternoon. Think about that the next time you see a group of elderly folks at the early bird special: they might have spent the morning fucking each other's brains out. And getting back to our hypothetical suddenly sought after bachelor, you have to figure some of those guys are living out their wildest sexual fantasies after a lifetime of really vanilla sex. Want to have a threesome with a couple women? There's surely some women out there who'd be up for it. Again I point to the odds: if there's ten women for every man, then I'm guessing the females have to cater to the men a bit. Certainly the stories in the article I linked above suggests it.

I won't go into areas like bondage and S&M. I mean do you really want to think about your widowed grandmother with a ball gag in her mouth getting her hair pulled while some guy in a black mask fucks her from behind? I thought not.

All of this makes me optimistic about the future. Not so much because I hope to someday be one of the main studs at the Villages (or any other retirement community). I just like the idea that when I'm an old man I'll still be having and enjoying sex. I don't know how wild it'll be, or whether I'll still enjoy playing some of the games Freya and I do now, but at a bare minimum I'd like to think we'll still be getting it on regularly.

Whether I'll be blogging about it is an entirely different issue.

Cheap Ass Blogger with a Petty Grievance

2009-01-28T05:31:00.000-08:00

I'm just going to be honest here: I'm a pretty cheap guy. Back when I was a Boy Scout the easiest part of the Scout Law for me to follow was "Thrifty". That carries through to most areas of my life. I don't like getting new cars, for example. I'd rather drive them into the ground, to the point where their only value is to donate them to the Kidney Foundation or some such, than trade a car in after a couple of years to get a new one. Socks? Let's just say I don't think a hole on the bottom is automatically a reason to throw it away.

So it probably shouldn't surprise anyone that I bring a similar attitude to porn. I pretty much never spend money on it. I've bought the occasional magazine, but when it comes to the Internet I've never spent a dime. There's so many gigabytes of free pictures and videos of naked women, I figured, why pay money? So I've never joined a porn pay site or anything like that. If I see an ad for an interesting site I'll go there, look at the free preview stuff, and that's it.

You don't have to explain to me the fundamental problem with that approach, by the way. I fully realize that if everyone was like me there'd be a lot less porn on the web, because no one would be paying for it. Tragedy of the commons and all that. I don't hold myself up as more clever than the folks that pay for porn, I'm just acknowledging a fact about myself. Hi, I'm Rooster, and I'm a tightwad.

Which brings us to the web site Beautiful Agony. I've said before it's one of the most erotic sites on the web, despite the fact that there's little (maybe no) nudity. It's basically just videos of people's faces while they have an orgasm. Not models, either, just regular folks (people film themselves, I believe). I'm sure this is a love it or hate it kind of thing. You either think "This isn't even soft core, yuck!" or you just totally groove on it. I'm in the latter category. I love the way women look when they're climaxing. The name of the site is perfect - that look of agony most people get during orgasm is indeed quite beautiful. The videos are of both men and women, and it's a pretty diverse collection of faces.

The reason I know this site is so hot is, as you'd have guessed from reading the first few paragraphs, that I've checked out the free preview stuff. There's a video intro to the site on the main page, and in the past they posted some sample videos somewhere. Very hot stuff, extremely erotic. Now the site's design is very simple in the way that smart web designers create things - functional, pretty, and easy to figure out. Basically it's just page after page of links to the videos, showing a frame capture of the person being filmed to click on. They add videos at a pretty good clip, so if you come back to the site after a few weeks the front page features an entirely new bunch of videos.

Now we get to the petty grievance. Typically one of the videos on the front page is marked "Free Preview", meaning you can click it and watch the whole thing for free. And we all know Rooster loves free! Here's the catch, though: it seems like the free preview is always of a guy. Never one of the very cute chicks, always a guy. Which really isn't to my taste. And we'll just not get into an argument about whether or not it should be since we're not talking about any naked folks or not - just take it as a given that Rooster thinks chicks moaning in orgasm is hot, guys doing the same is not. Your mileage may vary. At first I thought it was just bad timing on my part. Maybe I only checked in when it happened to be a guy. But eventually I started checking more often, and it's pretty clearly not a coincidence. It's always a male. Go ahead, check right now. See? It was a guy, wasn't it?

I certainly don't begrudge the site their right to hand out whatever free stuff they want. Hey, if they want to have no previews at all I'd understand. Why give out stuff you want people to pay money for and just encourage leeches like myself? Somehow though it's more annoying that they do have a free preview, but it's always something I don't want to see. It's like they're saying "Screw you, cheapskate" every week.

And yes, that's exactly the sort of thing that bugs me. I suck so much sometimes even I can't stand me.

Pets and Sex

2009-01-27T09:30:00.001-08:00

No, I'm not going to talk about sex with your pets. Not something I'm into, no matter how charming the animal in question. I did once have a sex dream in which I realized I was doing it with the family dog, but I think in that case my brain got confused when it reached into the "cast of characters" section for someone to put in the dream. That happens sometimes, you're just dreaming along when someone completely out of place shows up. I suppose some people might say it's your subconscious telling you something, but I think it's more likely that our brains misfire while we're asleep just as when we're awake.

Anyway, pets and sex. It occurs to me that I've had a lot of sex while our dog (not the same one from the dream) was around. In fact I'd say the majority of sex Freya and I have had took place with our dog laying on the floor nearby. Typically he sleeps through it, and he's never shown the least bit of interest in our exertions. If anything he seems relieved when we're finished so that he can go to sleep. We joke that he's thinking to himself "I hope they're done wrestling, because it's been a long day".

On the other hand if I see a cat in the room I'll shoo it out and close the door before we have sex. I'm not sure why cats are worse, they just are. Maybe because unlike the dog, who'll just lie on his pillow and try to sleep, the cats will try to get on the bed. Or barring that sit on a nearby chest and watch you. That can get a little creepy, looking over and seeing a cat staring at you while you're screwing. No thanks, don't need any of that.

We've never had any more exotic pets such as snakes, lizards, or birds. I know snakes are a popular prop for strippers (at least in movies), so I'm sure somewhere out there are people that incorporate snakes into their sex life. Maybe the woman starts with Monty (because all pythons are named Monty) wrapped around her, then after a sexy dance she puts it aside so she and her guy can get down to action. I don't think I'd be cool with her keeping the snake on, personally. I'm not sure I could keep an erection under the unblinking eye of a cold blooded predator like that.

And obviously you can't keep a parrot in a room where you have sex. That's just asking to have it starts saying some very embarrassing things when you have company over.

Before I started writing this I bet myself I couldn't get all the way through without mentioning gerbils. I win!

Sex Report: The Witch's Sex Toy

2009-01-26T05:22:00.000-08:00

A sex game my wife and I played over the weekend. I went ahead and wrote it up in character, because it reads better. You're smart enough to follow along without getting confused, I suspect. Just remember that I'm not actually a professional burglar, nor is my wife a witch. She is, however, an incredibly good fuck. That much is 100% true. I know this is long, and I considered trying to rewrite it to be less verbose, but didn't. Sorry.

The last thing I remembered before waking up blindfolded and tied to a chair was rifling through a drawer, looking for something valuable. Yeah, yeah, I'm a bad person, I break into people's houses and steal things. Save me your moral outrage. Anyway, while I was doing that everything went dark, and when I woke up I had no idea how much later I was sitting in a chair, my wrists tied to the arm rests, with a pillow case over my head. It was a long wait until someone came into the room.

"You must be the unluckiest thief alive," a woman's voice had said as she pulled the pillow case off my head. "Of all the houses you could pick to rob, you had to pick one that belonged to a real witch."

At that point she walked around in front of me, and I have to say I loved what I saw. She was gorgeous, curvy in all the right ways. Big boobs, wide hips, and an achingly pretty face. All of which were heavily emphasized by what she was wearing - very much gothic slut or Suicide Girl. She was heavily made up, eyes painted and lips coated with black lipstick. Not wearing much in the way of clothing. Black fish net stockings, a pair of black panties, and a sheer top that left most of her chest exposed and only partially obscured her broad nipples. She completed the look with pentagram ear rings and a necklace shaped like a tiny dagger. She was smoking hot, the kind of chick I'd have been glad to get close to normally. Normally.

I tried to play it cool, asking her what all this was. She told me she was going to punish me for breaking into her house, and repeated that whole claim of being a witch. I pressed her on that, trying to figure out what the hell she meant. Apparently she really did think she was a witch, and from the sound of it we weren't talking Good Witch Glenda here. Which meant I was dealing with a crazy bitch. Not a happy thought.

She didn't engage me in conversation long, brushing aside my requests to know exactly what she meant by "punishment". Instead she got out a pair of scissors and proceeded to cut my clothes off of me. Not sure if you've ever had some stranger cut all your clothes off, but I can tell you it's a pretty humbling experience. It's a lot different than stripping yourself, and when it's over you feel a lot more naked and vulnerable than normal. I also had a raging hard on, probably because while she was bending over to cut off my pants I got a really close up look at those huge tits of her. They were amazing, and even though I was scared about where this was going I really wanted to nail her.

"Now how to punish you," she said, standing there looking at me and idly tapping the end of the scissors against those black lips. Her beautiful blue eyes looked amused, but there was also a definite menace to them. Nine times out of ten I love that in a chick I want to fuck, but it wasn't so good right now.

Then she got really weird on me. She pulled out a deck of Tarot cards and said she was going to let them decide how I'd be punished. I don't know much about Tarot cards other than what I've seen in movies. She went on about how this deck was very accurate, then proceeded to shuffle it up and pull three cards off the top. She put them on the floor in front of me, face down.

She told me the first one told me the past, and when she turned it over it was The Fool. She thought that was very funny. The second one was supposed to be my present, and it was the Queen or something.

"I think we both know who that is," she said with a smile. I'd have felt better if the smile had reached her eyes instead of just making her look even more predatory.

Before she turned over the last card she told me all the things it could be. Something about how if it was a sword she was going to cut me, and if it was some other kind of card she was going to beat me or brand me. As I'd fucking guessed she was crazy, and I tried talking my way out of it, telling her to go ahead and call the police, trying to sound convincing. Instead she turned over the card, but not before informing me that if it was Death she was going to kill me. Great. Just fucking great.

The card she turned over, though, featured a naked man and woman embracing. The title of the card: The Lovers.

"Maybe you're not so unlucky after all," my captor said. "You must have very good karma."

"What's that mean?" I asked.

"What do you think it means?" she answered. "It means I'm going to fuck you."

Things were starting to look up. I figured I still wasn't out of the woods, since she might go all Basic Instinct on me or something. But at least it seemed I was going to get a shot at that pussy after all, and that was something.

She was all over me at that point, rubbing her big tits in my face and her hands over my body while I was still tied to the chair. She kept asking me if I wanted to fuck her, and I of course kept saying yes.

"Will you be my slave?" she whispered in my ear, her soft breasts pressed against my chest.

"Yes," I answered enthusiastically as she licked her tongue down the side of my neck. I even meant it at that point, if it would get me laid. This chick might be crazy, but she was also insanely hot.

"Would you wear a collar for me?" she asked, and I again agreed. Why the fuck not? I was already tied up.

So she put a collar on me, a black leather thing with little studs on it. And once she had it on me she untied my hands so I could get up from the chair. Apparently she wasn't worried I might try to get away or something. Not that she needed to, as there was no place I wanted to be other than there with her.

Instead of going to the bed she took me over to the door, where a rope came over the top and dangled down to nearly the floor. She tied my collar to the rope then stepped back. And to my great delight she began taking off her top, followed quickly by her panties. Left the fish nets on, though, which I liked. Her boobs looked even better naked, and I was aching to get my hands on them. I reached for her, but the rope kept me from getting more than a few feet from the door. She was just out of reach, smiling at me as she raised her breasts up with her hands, showing them off.

"You want to touch them?" she asked. I nodded, and apparently that was enough to satisfy her. She stepped forwards, and the moment she was close enough I was all over her. I grabbed those huge tits, massaging them in my hands before I lowered my mouth to suck on her very wide nipples. She was rubbing against me, trapping my hard cock between our bodies as she ground against me.

"You want to fuck me?" she asked.

"Yes," I gasped out.

"Then fuck me," she said, turning around and bending over. I grabbed her wide, soft hips in my hands as I worked to get my cock in her pussy. She was nice and wet, making it a fairly simple matter to penetrate her. And oh, how good she felt. I sunk my cock into her all the way, making her gasp (and doing some gasping of my own). But as I fucked her, thrusting in and out and just enjoying the heck out of this, she was taking little steps forwards, getting farther and farther away from me. I tried to walk with her, but eventually I ran out of slack in my rope. She kept tippy toeing away, until I was starting to choke myself on the collar as I tried to stay with her.

"Come on," she urged. "Don't you want to fuck me?"

I tried to stay in her, just about cutting off my entire airway as I desperately tried to keep my cock sheathed in her amazing pussy. Finally she'd pulled too far away, though, and my dick popped out. She stood up and looked at me angrily.

"I guess you don't want to fuck me after all," she said. I tried to convince her otherwise, but she wasn't having any of it. Instead she lay on the bed, laying so that when she spread her legs I had a straight on view of her pussy. She'd gotten a big rubber dildo off the table, and as I watched she inserted it inside her pussy and started to fuck herself.

"Since you don't want the job I'll just do it myself," she said. And she then proceeded to to exactly that, slowly inserting more and more of the dildo in until she was fucking herself nice and deep. It was incredibly erotic to watch that big thing slide in and out of her beautiful pussy. It was big enough that when she pulled it out her labia came with it, a sight I found extremely hot. I could see her juices glistening on the shaft of the dildo, and she was letting out little noises from time to time as she pleasured herself. She stopped, though, before getting herself off.

"You still want to fuck me?" she said as she stood up, walking towards me while carrying the dildo. I told her I did indeed, which was true. I'd only gotten harder and more eager watching the show she'd put on for me.

"Then lick this clean," she said, holding the dildo up to my mouth. I didn't even hesitate. I opened my mouth and applied my tongue to the shaft. I could taste her on it, tangy and delicious. She slid it back and forth across my tongue, letting me get it good and clean. Then she turned it and forced it into my mouth, making me suck on it like I was giving a blow job. She kept shoving more and more of it in until I started backing up, eventually trapping me against the door. She shoved so much of the dildo in I started to gag, something that clearly amused her. I had apparently gotten it clean enough, though, because she pulled it out and tossed it back onto the table.

At that point she untied my collar and took me over to the bed, where she proceeded to put me on my back and straddled me cowgirl style. She then gave me the fuck of my life, grinding her pussy on my cock better than I'd ever had it. This chick was fucking amazing the way she could roll those hips, bucking up and down with exactly the right amount of pressure to make it good but not so much as to make me explode. And when she came, it was one of the sexiest things I've ever seen. That gorgeous face never looked so pretty as when her mouth turned into an O while she moaned and groaned in orgasm. She ended up coming three times, two really good one and one very short climax at the end. I was hoping it was my turn now, as I'd been so good holding out while she came time and again (she'd warned me not to come inside her, and I found myself increasingly unable to think about not doing what she ordered).

Apparently I'd been good enough to rate a hand job, even if I didn't deserve to come inside her. She got some lube on her hand and proceeded to start jerking me off while I sat next to her. Only she just used her thumb and forefinger rather than her whole hand. And even worse she only stroked the shaft, stopping short of the head of my cock. It felt good, great even - but I wasn't getting the stimulation I needed to finish.

"Please," I panted. "Can you use your whole hand?"

"No," she said. "This is all you get."

"Work the head," I begged her. "I need more!"

"No," she repeated firmly. "I told you, this is all you get. You come like this, or not at all."

I whined, but pleading didn't budge her. She just kept stroking me slowly, thumb and forefinger only touching just the shaft of my cock. I was getting desperate, the hand job was driving me crazy but wasn't enough to make me come. I was jerking my hips around, trying to get more stimulation. I started begging, going out of my mind with the desire to come.

"Please make me come," I gasped. "I'll be your slave forever. Just rub the head, please, I need more, oh please oh please..."

She rewarded me with one stroke that went all the way up over the head, a single rub that sent shock waves through my entire body. Then she went back to just rubbing the shaft, leaving me even more frustrated than before.

I'm not ashamed to admit I broke down utterly at that point. I was almost crying with frustration, begging and pleading and offering her anything she wanted if she'd make me come. I promised to be her sex slave, to stay with her forever and do anything she told me. She seemed pleased at that, but wouldn't give me more. She just kept jacking me off slowly, not touching the head of my dick, letting me suffer. Making me suffer. Apparently this was my punishment for breaking into her house, getting me so close to orgasm then holding back, not letting me have my release.

Until suddenly it was enough, the rubbing on my shaft got me to the point where I was coming, spurring into the air as I pretty much screamed with pleasure. It was so intense I felt like I was going to pass out as she kept stroking my cock, squeezing out every last drop of come.

Later that night I found myself wandering around naked on the street. For the life of me I can't quite remember the address of the house I broke into that night, so I can't go visit her again. But I remember her, the sexy goth chick who claimed to be a witch. And from the way she fucked me I don't think I'd argue. No one could be that good without a little magic.

Reminding Helen of Her Place (Fantasy Friday)

2009-01-23T05:20:00.001-08:00

Like all people I sometimes wonder what things would have been like if various events in my life had played out differently. As part of that I've been thinking about writing some Fantasy Friday posts on that theme of "What if?" In this one I explore what might have happened if Helen, the woman my wife and I had several threesomes with, had become a more permanent thing. Fantasy Friday stuff is always made up, but in this case I want to make it doubly clear that none of it happened since it involves real people.

When I got home from work neither Freya nor Helen were anywhere to be seen, so I pretty much figured they were in the bedroom. They'd spent a lot of time back there ever since Helen had moved in with us a couple months before. I couldn't really complain, since I was basically living out every man's fantasy: I was getting to fuck two women at the same time, and oh by the way they're totally bi and I get to watch them have sex with each other too. And it's not like their getting it on while I wasn't around was cutting into the amount of sex I got. If anything Freya's sex drive was higher than it had ever been, and Helen sometimes seemed insatiable.

I headed to our bedroom, and as I walked down the hall I could hear the girls. Freya was moaning, and the pitch and volume suggested she was either having an orgasm or right on the edge of one. I could hear Helen's voice too, urging my wife on.

"Come for me, slut," Helen was saying. "Scream for me, baby." I wasn't the only one that liked to hear Freya make a lot of noise when she came - Helen went out of her way to try and get her to scream her lungs out during orgasm.

I got to the door and looked in at an amazing sight. Remember what I said about living out every man's fantasy? Yeah, that's me. Lying naked on the bed was Freya, her legs spread nice and wide. Helen was kneeling between them, likewise naked except for the strap on dildo harness she wore. She'd bought it a few weeks ago, along with the very large rubber cock she was currently using to fuck my wife's brains out. From the very first time she'd tried it Helen pronounced herself in love with strap on sex, and Freya certainly seemed taken with it as well. On the one hand I found it pretty hot to watch, but I had to work at not being threatened by the size of the dildo Helen used when fucking my pretty wife to oblivion. It was massive, a whole lot bigger than my more modestly sized cock, and Helen liked giving every inch of it to Freya. And despite her occasional complaints about being sore Freya certainly seemed to get off on it. Judging by the wailing she was doing as I watched she very much liked it right now.

As my wife started screaming Helen bent over so that she was laying on top of her, pressing her lips against Freya's in a kiss. The screams were muffled somewhat, but Helen kept thrusting her hips to ensure that the orgasm went on and on. My wife's legs were wrapped around Helen's hips as she frantically bucked up into her, trying to wring every ounce of pleasure from the fucking. Threatened or not it was scorching hot to watch. And while Freya was coming Helen kept talking to her, her language ever more aggressive.

"That's right, slut, come all over my cock," she was saying. "Work that pussy, buck up into me, show me what a whore you are. Keep coming, slut, keep coming..."

While the women's attention was diverted (they had both seen me come in, although I'm not sure it completely registered on Freya's pleasure-addled brain) I moved around to the foot of the bed, shedding clothes along the way. As you can imagine my cock was very hard.

Once Freya's cries had died down and she was clearly post-orgasmic I began unbuckling the harness from Helen's waist.

"What are you doing?" she asked, turning around to look at me.

"Reminding you of your place," I said simply as I climbed up on the bed beside her. She was basically on her hands and knees now, Freya's body beneath her. The dildo had fallen away from her body, still lodged in my wife's pussy, exposing Helen to penetration from behind. Which I proceeded to take advantage of, sliding my cock into her soaking wet cunt as I took her doggy style. She gasped as I sank deep into her. It still seemed weird fucking Helen bareback, but once she had moved in Freya had given her permission, much to my delight.

She'd already gotten so turned on by fucking Freya I knew it wouldn't take much to get her off. I fucked her slow and deep, and sure enough before long she was making little moans that indicated she was close to orgasm. This wasn't just about fucking her, though. I really did want to make a point about her place in this relationship. I reached out and grabbed a handful of her long hair, jerking her head back and making her yelp with pain. Which she loved - if there's one thing that gets Helen off it's rough sex.

"Who's bitch are you?" I growled, and for emphasis I slapped her hip with my hand.

"I'm your bitch," Helen gasped.

"And who's the senior slut around here?" I asked.

"Freya," she answered. It was something we'd originally started as a joke, calling Freya the senior slut and Helen the junior slut. But we'd woven it into our sex life, at least when we were playing dom/sub games.

"You want to come on my cock, bitch?" I asked.

"Yes, please," she said, her voice breathy. She was bucking her hips back into me, and I knew she was getting close. I slowed my thrusts a little to take some of the edge off, which made her whine at the loss of intensity.

"Ask the senior slut for permission," I ordered.

"Please, mistress," Helen gasped out. "May I come?"

"I don't know," Freya said, having recovered from her orgasm enough to enjoy our little game. "Do you think you deserve it? Have you been a good little slut?"

"Please!" moaned Helen, and at this point she wasn't just playing. "Please, mistress, let me come. Please please please...."

"Oh, all right," said Freya magnanimously. "Go ahead and make the slut come."

I slammed my hips into Helen's, fucking her deep and fast while pulling back on her hair even more. She let out a long, loud wail as she started coming, then kept it up as I fucked her through one of her patented "screaming like a banshee" orgasms. Beneath her Freya was pinching her nipples, twisting them around in her fingers in a way that had to be painful but that Helen professed to love. I started spurting before Helen's cries had died down, coming inside her in jet after jet. Another thing that had taken some getting used to, leaving a load of my come in (or on) a woman other than Freya.

Afterwards I collapsed on the bed beside the girls, while Helen lay atop my wife. Freya had her arms around the smaller woman, petting her hair as she came down from the height of ecstasy.

After that I was pretty sure she knew her place. And loved it.

More On Shaving

2009-01-22T06:45:00.000-08:00

Wait, this is a sex blog. So why all the grooming talk? I promise tomorrow I'll have something smutty for Fantasy Friday. All better?

Anyway, a commenter had a lot to say about my post on guys and shaving:

Did you see the recent People Magazine with Hugh Jackman as the Sexiest Man Alive? By keeping / displaying his chest hair, he is helping to combat the societal notion at present (as shown in ads, for example) that men somehow are only acceptable hair-free and shaven.

I think I saw that Hugh was the sexiest man alive, yes. I was just glad the sexiest man alive (what, did last year's guy die or get horribly disfigured?) is about my age. I don't think I'm going to complain too much about societal notions of male attractiveness, though. I doubt I'd get any sympathy from the ladies, who are continually fed the notion that they should weight 105 pounds, of which 25 pounds is in their boobs.

After all, nature intends it to be there (in most cases).

Between ear rings, tattoos, hair coloring (and heck, hair cutting in general), shaving, and deodorant we've pretty well moved beyond what nature "intended". Nature can be kind of a bitch, as it turns out. If it were up to her I'd live just long enough for my children to be grown and start having kids, then I'd keel over and die. Well, fuck her sideways on that.

Another case in point was last week's news story about the "Joy of Sex" by Alex Comfort book being updated. One reviewer stated that while she enjoyed the new images of the man with smooth skin, she also missed the raw masculinity of the hairy man that was shown in the former edition.

As best I remember (it's been ages since I saw it) the guy in the Joy of Sex was way too hippie for me to take very seriously. I can't really argue with women who like their guys smooth. If I were gonna go gay I'm pretty sure I'd prefer Jonathan Rhys Meyers to Hugh Jackman.

Finally & more along the lines of your post, have you seen the Perfect Phallus blog? It's kind of interesting to read, even though I am straight (which the author there, Mrs. Candy, encourages because all men share in this powerful "life force". In fact, most of the guys who submit pictures of their dicks for review are straight.) The advocacy there is that having some pubes speak to what a true man is all about.

Haven't seen it, although I have seen a few blogs which feature lots of pictures of guy's dicks sent in to the blog's author. I've always like the Dude's answer when asked "Isn't that what makes a man?" Honestly I don't really care what other guys think about whether you should or shouldn't shave. I'm all about the ladies' opinion, and in particular that of the one woman who sees me naked on a regular basis.

I do keep my crotch and chest hair trimmed and presentable - not overgrown and out of control. Call it "manscaping" if you will.

I'll be in the cold, cold ground before I use that word to describe my grooming habits. Not a fan of the whole metrosexual idea.

You Make the Call

2009-01-22T05:23:00.000-08:00

I'm not a huge fan of ethical puzzles of a hypothetical nature, at least not when they're designed to be basically impossible. Things like "If you could only save one person from a burning building would it be a small child you don't know or the world's greatest scientist who's working on a cure for cancer". Often they seem designed to make you feel like a murderer ("Oh, so you'd let the poor child burn to death, would you?") But there's a couple of such hypotheticals I've been mulling over the past few years that are a bit more grounded in reality. Or at least they don't make you choose to let Little Billy die in a fire.

Dilemma #1: This one is in honor of Lost, which started again last night. Say you're part of a plane or boat wreck, and end up on an island in the middle of the ocean along with 10 or 15 other folks. After a year or so you've come to realize that rescue is very unlikely, and that at this point everyone in the outside world thinks you're dead. You know that your spouse has probably moved on, and might even have remarried (or at least started dating). At what point is it okay for you to start a romance with someone on the island? Would it be okay for you to "marry" them, even though technically you're already married?

The doggedly loyal and honorable answer to this is that you'd remain faithful to your spouse, even if you lived for decades on the island. But I have to think that'd get really hard, especially if you knew there was a good chance your spouse had remarried already. For me the magic number is around a year, I think. That's long enough to have found out if there's some seasonal event that might lead to rescue, and is probably about the point my wife would start thinking about dating or something.

Dilemma #2: You're married to someone who suffers a massive head injury. They fully recover physically, but are brain damaged in such a way that they are mentally and emotionally around eight years old. Is it still okay to have sex with them? Assume they think sex is fun, so you're not raping them or anything, they're just very childish in every way. Or does having sex with a mental eight year old, no matter what their body's age, make you a child molester?

Maybe this one isn't much of a dilemma for lots of folks, but I'm torn. One of the reasons sex with children is forbidden is that they can't offer true consent. On the other hand it's your spouse, who you've had sex with plenty of times in the past. They pretty much gave a lasting consent when you got married, right? I'm pretty sure I'd think it was okay to keep having sex with a mentally disabled spouse as long as it wasn't hurting them (physically or emotionally). I'd almost certainly have some guilty feelings about it, though.

Dilemma #3: You're married, and your spouse is a gorgeous chick with big boobs who fucks like a porn star. One night she wants to have sex with you. Is it okay to do so?

I say yes, yes it is. (Who said these ethical questions all had to be hard?)

Shaving for Men

2009-01-21T05:34:00.000-08:00

It's probably a mistake to take too many of your ideas about what's sexy from porn. For example if you're judging your lovers by whether or not their bodies meet the standards of porn stars, you've probably set some pretty unrealistic expectations. And just because your girl doesn't shriek like a howler monkey from the moment you touch her naked body that's not a sign she's a cold fish. You wouldn't judge how good your beer is based on whether or not it has the magical powers shown in commercials, right? The relationship of porn sex to real sex is kind of similar.

That being said there's no doubt porn has had an effect on what people in general, and I specifically, find sexy. I'm not sure if porn actually drives it, or if it just gives people a chance to see a lot of options they otherwise wouldn't. For example, consider keeping your pussy shaved. I've only ever seen two women naked in person, and if that was my entire sample size I might not be able to say which I preferred. Having seen plenty of women's pussies both natural and bare, though, I can say I probably prefer the latter. Even more so after having had Freya shave herself on several occasions. The sensation of sinking your cock into a freshly shaved pussy is just to die for. Right now she's natural, but I'm thinking of a sex game in which she'd be bare again. And yes, it does involve a tattoo.

One thing that lots of guys in porn do is shave their own genital area, typically their balls and some area around the base of their dick. I'm not sure how much this has caught on in the mainstream, but here and there I've seen signs that more guys are imitating that. Part of it may be that hairy isn't considered as sexy now as it was in, say, the 1970s. Today's leading men in movies tend to be pretty smooth and hairless, with not a lot of Burt Reynolds or Sean Connery furriness showing up. So it seems like a natural progression that guys would start trimming or shaving down below.

In what is almost certainly more information than a lot of you want I'll confess that I do some shaving myself. I keep my balls and a strip around my cock completely devoid of hair. I started doing that over a year ago, and it wasn't my way of trying to live like a porn stud. I had to shave down there as part of getting a vasectomy. Since I was the one going under the knife Freya offered to do the shaving, so I let her. We weren't exactly sure how much was supposed to be bare, so she guessed high. That's the definition of complete trust right there, letting a woman apply a razor to your balls. I suppose it would be even more trusting if it had been a straight razor, but still. And in fact she did a very good job, and it was more than a little sexy. After she was finished she used her tongue to make sure everything was good and smooth, and it was while she was licking my balls that I thought this might be a good thing to make permanent. I very much enjoy the way it feels when everything's smooth down there. And I can't help but notice Freya's more willing to take her time licking the areas where there's no hair to get in her mouth. If shaving them is what it takes to get Freya's amazing tongue applied to my balls, then hand me the blade. She actually doesn't care much either way, she says, at least visually. Doesn't turn her on or off, except when I get a little stubbly.

As for how I keep things shaved, I take the really simple approach. I just bring the razor into the shower with me every couple of days, using plain old soap and water to do the shaving. My guess is if you've got sensitive skin you'd need to be more gentle, but luckily I'm a super tough he-man. I've only cut myself a little one time, although occasionally if I'm not gentle enough I get a slight razor burn. A little uncomfortable, but not really painful. And when Freya's gently sucking or licking my balls it's entirely, completely worth it.

I had a moment of doubt the last time I went in for a checkup and my doctor had me drop my pants. But I figured it was hardly the weirdest thing he'd ever seen, right? And it's not like I see the guy anywhere other than there. He didn't bat an eye, and again a moment or two of slight embarrassment is well worth the reward.

So if it's something you've been thinking about, guys, I say try it out. This is especially true if you're one who likes having your balls played with. (I've got a friend who freaks if his wife so much as touches them, so the thought of shaving his balls to make it more likely she would is not something he's interested in). Even better if you can get your woman to do the shaving herself, or at least inspect the quality of the work with her tongue.

How Rooster Almost Became a Swinger

2009-01-20T08:45:00.000-08:00

As I've mentioned in the past my sexual experience is limited to exactly two women, my wife Freya and our friend Helen that we had some threesomes with several years back. We even had a couple of foursomes with Helen's then-boyfriend, and of course engaged in a couple of threesomes with another man, Nick. I'm not sure what the technical definition of a "swinger" is (and I suspect it varies widely from one person to the next anyway), but I don't think our extra-marital sex qualifies us as having lived that particular lifestyle. I don't say that as a way of slighting swingers - it's not my way of saying "Hey, we did some wild stuff, but we're not one of those people". That'd be especially foolish of me since Freya and I came within an e-mail or two of actually dabbling in full-on, no doubt about it swinging.

It happened after we'd had a few threesomes with Helen, but before we'd engaged in any with Nick. One morning in the shower Freya looked up at me, her beautiful blue eyes showing that she was very nervous, and said the following:

"I want to meet up with another couple". We both knew what she meant by "meet up" - she was talking about sex. We'd talked about the idea in a casual way, nothing very serious. I'd always assumed it would be a non-starter for her, and the idea wasn't so exciting to me that I felt much desire to try and convince her. So it was very startling that she was the one to suggest it. This was very much in Freya's wild phase, such as it was. We'd been married enough years that she was secure in our relationship, and she was trying out some kinks she'd never really considered in the past. She'd had her nipples pierced, for example, and was keeping her pussy shaved (at my request). We'd done the stuff I mentioned above involving Helen and her boyfriend. Something we hadn't done, though, was semi-anonymous sex. Basically meeting someone explicitly for sexual reasons and taking things from there. And now, apparently, it was something Freya wanted to do.

One thing to keep in mind is that the Internet (or at least the Internet we know today) was in its infancy. There was e-mail and Usenet, but the web didn't exist outside of a few universities. So finding other couples that might be interested wasn't quite as easy as today (if indeed it can be called "easy" even now with Craigslist, AdultFriendFinder, and so on). We did manage to make an e-mail connection with a couple, though, that was interested in meeting. They lived far enough away that it felt pretty anonymous, and they sounded like people we'd get along with pretty well. They were a bit older than us, which wasn't a problem for me - I was in my 20s and loved the idea of sex with an older woman (40+, which now seems not so old). Everything was heading towards us meeting somewhere halfway between our respective home towns when, in the course of describing ourselves, we realized that the couple we were talking to was married - but not to one another. They were both cheating on their spouses, apparently not only with one another but engaging in swinging as well. We politely told them that was a problem for us, and broke things off. Not to get all moralistic, but there's enough potential problems with extra-marital sex without adding in the complication that some of those engaged in it are doing so behind their spouse's back.

That setback put our desire for swinging on hold for awhile, long enough that we did all kinds of other stuff with Helen and Nick. By the time those relationships had ended we weren't really interested in swinging any more, and haven't considered it since.

But sometimes you have to wonder about the "What ifs?" of life. I've got lots of them, as I guess we all do. Meeting Freya at all was wild chance, seeing as how we were both hundreds of miles away from home on vacation at the time. If I'd gone someplace else that summer, or if Freya's family had come a week later... Anyway, this is another of those moments. What if we had become full fledged swingers, and found we liked it? Would this blog be a whole lot more interesting? Would we ever have gotten around to having kids? I can play out a dozen different outcomes ranging from tragic to comical. No way to tell which ones are more likely than the others, though. It is a great tragedy that life comes without any do overs.

At least I will get to have sex with a 40+ year old woman eventually. I just have to wait another four years or so for Freya to get there. Granted she won't be "older" in the sense that she'll be younger than me, but it'll have to do.

Sex Report: A Mini-Vacation

2009-01-19T09:25:00.000-08:00

I gotta say, I love hotel sex. Or maybe it's just that staying in a motel makes me even more interested in sex than I normally am. Certainly that's one of the first things I think about when we check into a motel room: how's it look for sexual purposes? Is the shower big enough to bend Freya over in? Does the bed look nice and bouncy? I'm not the only one that gets turned on by that, naturally. Freya is usually pretty receptive to my advances when we're in a new place. I guess if I wanted to get laid every night I'd recommend a long trip across the USA or something.

As you might have guessed we took a little family vacation over the weekend. Only one night, so we didn't go very far. Just took the kids to a nearby attraction, staying overnight in a motel. There were only a couple of requirements when we were looking for a place to stay. It had to have suites, so the kids could have their own room, and it had to have an indoor pool. All of our children love swimming, and it's a little too cold for swimming outdoors. We found such a place, then drove out and checked in. It wasn't exactly a suite. The kids had one room while we had another, but they were connected by a short hallway - there wasn't any door or other barrier. I knew that meant I couldn't count on any really wild sex. No screaming, loud moaning, or putting Freya on her hands and knees so I could fuck her all over the room. Hardly a deal breaker, though.

As for the pool, that went really well. For one thing Freya went swimming, which meant she wore her bathing suit, and that meant it was cleavage city. Freya's suit is one of the most cleavage enhancing (and revealing) pieces of clothing she owns. And of course when she's in the water her boobs tend to float up, making the whole picture even more stunning. I'm not sure what it was about that night, but she looked even more gorgeous than usual. And by "gorgeous" I mean "Showing off her rack". I think it had to do with the water depth we were in, right around chest left so that her breasts got some lift but weren't covered by water. The level of cleavage showing was enough to make me lose my train of thought. Seriously, it was like a Juggs photo shoot there. Or at least the early part of the shoot where the model shows off how big her tits are in a bathing suit, before moving on to the full-on naked shots. Since there were other people in the pool, not to mention a video camera on the wall, I had zero chance of convincing her to flash me or anything. It was enough to stand there gazing at her huge boobs, though, knowing that later that night I'd have my hands on them.

And indeed a few hours later I did. She was straddling me, adjusting her hips in order to line up my hard cock against her slit so she could fuck me. We'd decided to do it this way, with her on top, so she could come as quickly and easily as possible. The kids were asleep, but neither of us wanted one of them to wake up and come see what Mommy and Daddy were up to. So while I massaged Freya's boobs with my hands, delighting as always in the fact that each was too much for a single hand to really get a hold of, she impaled herself on me then starting grinding those big, wide hips of hers one she had taken my whole length inside herself.

It wasn't as easy as it sometimes is when she's on top. Her orgasm proved a bit elusive, and she had to switch angles a few times to try and get everything right. She would roll her hips, sighing occasionally with pleasure, then get frustrated at her inability to get herself to climax and adjust again. I was doing all I could to help, pushing up into her and telling her how beautiful she was, how much I wanted her to come all over me. We were both sweating with effort, though, the sex becoming as much work as it was pleasure. Sometimes it's like that, especially when we skimp on the preliminaries (which we had).

Eventually, though, she was making soft "Oh, oh, oh" sounds as she came all over me. She bounced up and down on me very hard, my cock punching through the tightened ring of muscle as she ground it against the most sensitive spots inside herself. I held on, not finishing in the hopes she might want more. She was done, though, her desire completely sated after the strong orgasm she'd just experienced. She climbed off of me, getting on her hands and knees, her head resting on her forearms folded below her. That was her way of offering her body to me. I could take her however I wanted, fuck her rough and hard if that's what I desired. And it was what I was in the mood for. With a twist.

"Ask me to rape you," I told her as I positioned myself behind her.

"Rape me," she whispered.

"You want me to rape your cunt?" I asked. "Then beg for it."

"Please rape my cunt," she whined, sounding for all the world like she meant it. "Rape me, please."

I pushed forwards, penetrating her easily then slamming my cock in all the way. She let out a gasp of pain, and as I began fucking her whined and whimpered as if she was suffering.

"Too big for you?" I asked, my voice full of contempt.

"Yes," she whispered. "Please..."

"Harder?" I said, now fucking into her with even more vigor. "Beg me to rape your pussy harder."

"Please rape my pussy harder," she gasped out, making little noises as I continued battering her. That was enough for me, with a few hard and deep thrusts I let out a moan of my own as I started pumping her full of my seed. I came and came, my vision completely black as I lost all track of time and space. When I came back to myself I was still buried inside her, my hands clutching her soft, wide hips.

Oh, do I love motel sex.

Does Freya Know?

2009-01-16T05:21:00.000-08:00

A commenter asks:

does your wife know you blog about your sex life? read it?

A reasonable question (if I had a FAQ that'd be on it). But it's one I've chosen not to answer in the past. If I say yes people will wonder if I shade things knowing she'll read it. If I say no people wonder if I'll just make stuff up knowing I can't be called on it. This is just going to have to remain one of life's unanswered questions.

In response to the above another commenter wrote:

So.....my theory is that she is probably reading the blog while at her work. Just like their sex games, this is also one. Hmm, what do you have to say about that, Rooster? ; )

That could get very surreal as a sex game. I could start writing about things that never happened, either as a hint for stuff I'd like or a way to try and turn her on. Sounds interesting. I will point out, thought, that Freya doesn't have a "work", as she's a stay-at-home mother. Which is in fact work, but doesn't provide her an office somewhere. Or a salary, actually.

Also, with the volume of writing that is on here, have you considered making a book out of it? Maybe clean it up a little for the publisher, but still....

I don't think we should confuse volume with quality. I've posted a lot, but somehow I don't think it'd make a good book. As a series of letters to Juggs magazine, maybe.

May not have time for a Fantasy Friday post. It promises to be that kind of day, unfortunately.

Sex Report: Coming in the Dark

2009-01-15T06:37:00.000-08:00

Truth be told Freya wasn't really in the mood for sex last night. I was, but then again that's hardly remarkable. She and I have differing sex drives. I'm hardly hypersexual or anything, but I'm a good bit more sexual than her. There's also the fact that when we get busy in life it has a radically different impact on our desires. I have a long day at work and with the kids I think "You know what'd be a great way to reduce stress and relax? Sex!" When she's had a hard day (and as the stay at home mother of young children believe you me she has some doozies) it just kneecaps her desire for sex. She's hardly a cold fish, as a look at the final Orgasmodometer reading for 2009 will show. But sometimes I have to help her get into the mood for sex.

Such was the case last night. To be honest she'd probably just as soon have gone to sleep than fuck me, but it had been awhile. And she's not completely immune to my charms, despite long exposure to them. She also apparently wasn't averse to some pleasure herself, because instead of just getting on her hands and knees so I could do her fast and hard (without worrying about whether she came) she got herself positioned in the middle of the bed so we could go at it missionary, using her fingers to pull her pussy open as I sank inside her. Holding herself open like that ensures I'll get good and deep and puts plenty of friction on her most sensitive areas. My baby likes to come, and I'm only too pleased to help her.

It turns out that fucking in the dark can be tricky. Freya's not very vocal during sex, at least not until she starts coming. When I can see her face that's no problem. I know how close she is to the edge of climax by looking at her. When those pretty blue eyes close and her mouth falls open, her face screwed up in what almost looks like a pained expression - well, that's when I know she's about to start wailing in orgasm. Otherwise, though, I'm forced to listen to her breathing, trying to figure out if it's getting faster as she climbs the mountain. I've tried to coax her into giving me hints, saying things like "Right there" when I'm on the right spot, that kind of thing. She gets very self conscious, though, and talking like that really distracts her. During orgasm she'll say all kinds of things, either things I ask her to or stuff she just blurts out. I've heard her say things like "Fuck me hard" or "That's it, right there" or even "Baby I'm your whore". (That last one might be one I told her to say when she was out of her mind with pleasure). If she's already come and is just saying things for my benefit she can get really dirty. Oh, the things I've heard come out of that woman's mouth while she tried to drive me crazy! But last night, in the darkness of our room, I was like Indiana Jones. Trying to find just the right amount of pressure so that no one would miss the golden idol. Only instead of a golden idol I was chasing an orgasm, and rather than a pedestal it was her pussy. Actually the analogy kind of breaks down there, so let's move on.

I was giving it to her slow and deep, making sure to put plenty of pressure on the top of her cunt. That's the surest way to get her to orgasm, and from the way she was bucking back into me I knew she was feeling it. But as my own climax drew closer I was unsure if my timing was right. Feeling me spurt inside her is often enough to trigger her orgasm - but if it doesn't then she's out of luck, so I try to make sure she's either already coming or teetering on the edge before I start. Flying blind like I was I couldn't tell if she was there, or if she needed a few more minutes. It was almost too late, I could feel the come boiling up out of my balls. My muscles were tense and I was soaked with sweat. I'd been fucking her hard and deep for many long minutes, going out of my mind with how good her pussy felt.

"I'm so close," I gasped out. "Are you ready to have your pussy filled with come?" I love the thought of coming inside her, of making a mess out of her cunt as I spurt inside her. So I love to tell her when I'm about to do it, even though she's a good bit less enchanted with messy sex than I.

She didn't answer, she just bucked her hips into me hard, her breathing now coming very fast and shallow. She was there, I could feel it. I knew exactly what her beautiful face looked like, flushed and strained as she desperately tried to earn her reward. I slammed my hips into her, fucking her as hard and fast and deep as I could, coming inside her just as I'd predicted. The second I started to spurt she let out a long moan, her hands now clutching my forearms as she came. It wasn't an epic orgasm for her, but it was still pretty good. She loves to come that way, underneath me while I finish as well. I prefer letting her finish first then getting mine, but there is something special about both of us coming at the same time.

When we turned on the lights we found that when I'd pulled out and laid beside her I'd gotten come all over the bed and the body pillow between us. I can't say I regret it in the least. If a CSI team ever uses that blue light on our bed I want it to be a splattered mess of DNA evidence, otherwise-invisible come stains decorating every inch of the sheets. I want the techs to whistle and say "I haven't seen this many semen stains since we busted that whorehouse". I'd also like this investigation to not involve mine or Freya's murder, but that's a minor detail.