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Big Beefy Waiter

November 29, 2006


♀ & I went out for dinner with my parents the other night and ♀ was totally flirting with our big beefy waiter. Was I bothered by this? No, not at all. He was flirting with her as well. It was all very innocent and I think we all like to know that other people are still attracted to us. That’s easy to lose in a long term monogamous relationship. Besides she was rubbing my crotch under the table and nibbling on my ear; it wasn’t like I was being ignored.

We’ve never invited anybody into our bedroom before, but it’s certainly a reoccurring theme in fantasy and role playing. I’ve been thinking about the big beefy waiter and what might have happened had things gone further…

I left the restaurant before ♀ did to go to work and didn’t talk to her again until the following afternoon when I woke up. The very first thing she said to me when I came downstairs was, “what did you think of Peter George last night?”


George Serge, the waiter from the restaurant.”

“He was OK I guess. He was certainly looking for a good tip.”

“Your parents paid for dinner and I left the tip. $30.”

“Wow.” I said absentmindedly as I sat down with my breakfast of a banana and a cola and logged on to check my email.

“There’s something else. I told him I’d like him to come over.”

“Oh yeah.” I said as I scanned the inbox full of junk mail and forwards.

She reached over and turned the screen off. “I told Serge that I’d like him to come over.”

“Who’s Serge?”

She took a deep breath and said very slowly, “Serge was our waiter last night and I’d like him to come over here. Tonight.”


“Well, he was a lot of fun last night and he’s really cute and we’ve talked about including others and we often have other people when we role play and we agreed it shouldn’t be anyone we know and we’ve had cyber sex with other people and he gets off work at 10 and I told him I’d call him at 6 if you were into it and…” she trailed off.

I was more then a little overwhelmed by all this. Whenever we had talked about including others, I was the eager beaver and she was saying no, not yet. To have her pushing for it and with a real person in mind rattled me. Everything she’d said was true, but moving from fantasy into reality was a big step and I wasn’t sure I was ready. “If I said no, would you see him anyway?”

She looked genuinely hurt by the question. “How can you ask that? I only want experiences that enhance what we have. We have fucking great fucking. I’m not even interested in swapping with anyone. I just think he might be a fun for a night, but only if you were into it.”

“Did you tell him that I’m a cross-dressing sissy?”

“No, that should be your choice.”

I thought about it for awhile and decided that if I said yes to this then maybe she’d say yes to including another woman at a later date.

She saw the little light go on and said,”who knows, if this goes well maybe next time we can try it with a woman.” I hate that she can read my mind like that.

So, I agreed and ♀ was positively giddy. She called Serge and I was somewhat relieved to hear that like me this was going to be his first time in a sexual situation with another guy and like me he was a little nervous.

♀ & I started getting ready for our big night. We had a shower, then I trimmed her pussy (a thin V that comes to a point at the top of her lips) and french braided her long blond hair. We chose our clothes and started getting dressed. ♀ had on a leopard print bra with a see through royal blue top, thigh-hi stockings, no panties and tight black lo-rise jeans. I chose a black garter and stockings, with the seam up the back, (she thinks it looks silly with the panties on top of the garters, but I think it’s more practical that way) matching peach full panty and bra with silicone breast forms, my favourite little black dress, open toe 2″ heels with the straps around the ankles, dangly clip-on earrings (my ears aren’t pierced) and matching necklace. I don’t have a wig yet, but if I did I think it would be shoulder length brunette. (I know you were wondering)

The entire time we were getting ready she was just so darn happy and excited and it really started to bother me. You see when ♀ first met, we both had some body type issues to overcome. She was larger then anyone I had been with and I was scrawnier then she was used to. Our lips fit just fine so it all worked out, but she kept chattering on about how much Serge reminded her of some old boyfriend.

Then she started in about how nice and straight his teeth are (mine are crooked) and by the time she started speculating that he was probably a former construction worker who had turned to waiting on tables after a lower back injury, I was getting cranky.

I’m not the most tactful guy so when I mentioned how I was feeling and that if we were just about to have sex with some petite little cutey with a peach shaped ass and that ♀ might need a little reassuring before hand, I probably shouldn’t have mentioned it while she was helping me with my make up. I think she was rougher around my eyes then she needed to be.

Serge arrived right on time and was more then a little surprised to see me all dolled up. “Your husband is gay?” He asked.

“No. My first one was.” ♀ replied. “This one’s a sissy. He’s straight.”

“And that means…?”

“Well, it means I have a very strong feminine side and I’m usually submissive. To her.” I added.

He seemed to get that. “So how do you want this to work?”

“Well we were thinking that since all of us are new to this, we could start off role playing,” ♀ explained. “That way we could all concentrate on the scene and hopefully things will be a little less awkward.”

“That sounds reasonable. What did you have in mind?”

“I’m a huge fan of age-play.” I said. “What would you think of a mommy and daddy and sissy scenario?”

He liked that idea and I gave them a 10 minute head start in our bedroom.

When I went upstairs and peaked through the half closed door, they were on the bed kissing. “Hey Baby, you can come in if you’ld like. ” Mommy said. “My, you certainly look pretty in that dress. Walk around a bit and show Daddy how well you can walk in those high heels.”

I strutted around the bedroom like Mommy had taught me; heel toe, heel toe swinging my hips and my chest thrust forward showing off my perky little boobies. I felt so proud that they were looking at me like this and excited at being allowed in here with them.

I walked over to Daddy’s side of the bed and as I turned to walk back, he reached under my dress and grabbed my ass. I could feel the callouses on his hands through the thin fabric of my panties and a shiver went all through me. “You sure do have a sweet little sissy ass.”

“You can join us on the bed Baby, but you need to take off those shoes first.” Mommy said.

They were kissing again and I watched them intently. “Daddy kisses you differently then I do.” I said.

“You kiss like a girl,” she explained. “Daddy kisses like a man. It’s different, but both ways are nice. Do you want Daddy to show you how it feels?”

“No.” Serge & I answered in unison.

There was a pause, but Serge picked up the thread. “You’ve been kissing Mommy? What else have you been doing with her?”

“I brush and braid her beautiful hair every night.”I said proudly. “I file her piggies to keep them soft, I paint her pretty nails and I shave her vergina vagina.”

Mommy took Daddy’s shirt off and was running her fingers through the hair on his big chest. His belly was even bigger, but she didn’t seem to mind. She sat up a bit and Daddy pulled her shirt off over her head and tossed it on the floor. I almost got up to fold it properly, but decided I could leave it just this once. He started squeezing her boobs. Kneading them like loaves of dough.

“You’re touching them too rough.” I said. “Mommy likes her boobs to be touched gently.”

“That’s OK Baby. I like how Daddy is touching them.”

“Mommy lets you play with her tits?”

“Only if I’m gentle. Some nights if I can’t sleep she holds me and lets me nurse on them. I love her warm sweet milk.”

He took off her bra and we each started playing with a boob. Her nipple was hard as a cherry pit in my mouth and she started moaning. I noticed that while he was playing with her other boob, Daddy was rubbing Mommy through her jeans. She lifted her hips up and let him peal her pants off and I could smell how excited she was.

“Wow, you did a very good shaving job,” he said as he bent down and started licking her pussy.

“I think you need to take your dress off now Baby. Then you should help Daddy out of his pants.”

He didn’t stop licking as I pulled his pants off, but he needed to stop and help me get his tighty whites off. Mommy and I both noticed at the same time. “Hey!” She said. “You’re uncut.”

“But of course you already knew that, right?” He said.

♀ tore her gaze away from his thickening cock and looked at both of us. “Huh? Oh yeah, right. Of course I did.”

Daddy lay on his back and Mommy knelt between his legs. “Come here Baby and help me play with daddy’s cock.”

I only hesitated for a second then started sliding his fore skin up and down while Mommy licked his cock like a jumbo lollipop. We took turns trying to get it down our throats, but even though he was shorter then I am, he was much thicker and neither of us could manage to swallow it. Mommy was licking his balls when a single drop of precum appeared on the tip of his cock.

“Oh gawd, she said. I want that cock inside of me. Now.”

I slid a condom on Daddy and she straddled him and slowly lowered herself down onto his thick pole. I was amazed to see her lips stretch that wide and by the time she had it all inside of her she was moaning louder then I had ever heard her before. She started riding him and I alternated between sucking on her clit and licking her juices as they ran down his sheathed cock. I can usually tell when Mommy is about to cum, but not this time. As I was playing with her clitty. I reached around and pressed my finger against her rosebud and she went off like a rocket.”oh fuck oh fuck ohhhhhh fuuuuuck.”

Daddy was moaning loudly as Mommy’s pussy massaged his cock, but Mommy said, “Pleasssse don’t cum yet.” She looked over her shoulder at me and said, “I need you in my ass Baby, cum and fuck my bum while I’m riding Daddy.”

I lubed her up and started pushing my cock against her tight little asshole. She relaxed and I quickly popped inside. I wasn’t even half way in when I felt daddy’s cock move against mine through Mommy’s lining. My balls pulled up and I started to cum.

“NOOOO.” She roared. I didn’t know if she was ♀ or Mommy, but whoever she was, she was pissed. “You fucking little shit.”

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” I stammered.

“You’ll be sorry all right Two cocks at once is my greatest fantasy and you blew it.” She snarled as she climbed off a very startled looking Serge. “You.” She said to him. “Keep that cock good and hard. And you, you useless little bitch lie down on your back.”

She straddled my head and pinned my arms to my sides with her legs. She lifted my legs and told Daddy to put a pillow under my hips. “Now I want you to fuck his little sissy ass until he’s hard enough to finish what we stated.”

“What?” I said. “NO. I’m not excited anymore. He’s to thick. It’ll really hurt.”

“You like pretending your a girl so much; well sometimes girls have to spread their legs even when they’re not excited. So you’d better relax that butt of yours because Daddy’s going to fuck it like it or not” And she lowered her pussy down on my face stifling any further protests.

She squeezed her thighs against my ears, muffling all sound. Her crotch blocked all light. I felt Daddy applying the cold lube to my hole with his thick fingers. He shoved one finger inside of me and my body jerked. There was no way I could take that entire cock inside of me. Even if I was really excited, I thought, it would still be a stretch. And I laughed at my little private joke.

Mommy held my limp cock up and I felt Daddy pushing the head of his thick cock against me. I took a deep pussy filled breath and he popped inside of me. Ever so slowly he started pushing deeper inside of me, stretching me so wide I thought I would break in half. By the time his thighs bumped up against my ass cheeks I could swear he was going to poke right out of my belly button.

Mommy held my cock against Daddy’s as he slowly fucked me and it didn’t take long before the pain started to morph into pleasure and I could feel my own cock starting to respond. Mommy loosened her grip on my head and started to ride my tongue, sliding her dripping wet pussy and her cum filled ass back and forth across my face.

“Oh fuck, he’s tight.” I heard Daddy say.

“He won’t be for long.” Mommy laughed. She stroked my cock with one hand and rubbed her clitty with the other.

Once I was reloaded, Mommy said, “now it’s my turn.”

Daddy pulled out and I felt a gust of cool air blow up inside of me. Mommy turned around and lowered herself on to me, then she brought her face close to mine and whispered, “I love you so fucking much.”

She shuddered when he entered her and seconds later I could feel the head of his cock sliding along the shaft of mine. I could picture the sight of her cunt and ass stuffed full of cock, but getting our movements in sync is much harder then it looks in the movies.

We must have done OK because it wasn’t long before ♀ groaned, “Oh my fucking gawd! He’s getting bigger!”

They both came like that. ♀ whispering insanely in my ear, Serge grunting and groaning above her. The two of them bearing down on me, squishing me, making it hard to breathe.

When the last waves of her orgasm had ebbed from her body and Serge had extricated himself from her well and truly fucked ass, ♀ was kissing my face, “thankyouthankyouthankyou. Can you cum again? I don’t mind giving you another one.”

But I was done and really so was ♀. I know guys have a reputation for falling asleep right after sex, but I’ve seen ♀ fall asleep in mid-sentence. As for Serge;  he did what any self-respecting fantasy lover does…

he turned into a pizza.


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The list was in my inbox, but I changed the ending…
How to treat a woman:

Wine her.

Dine her.

Call her.

Hold her.

Surprise her.

Compliment her.

Smile at her.

Listen to her.

Laugh with her.

Cry with her.

Romance her.

Encourage her.

Believe in her.

Cuddle with her.

Shop with her.

Give her jewelry.

Buy her flowers.

Hold her hand.

Write love letters to her.

Go to the ends of the earth and back again for her.

There was more, but I decided it wasn’t all that funny. I still like the list though.

And that list made me think. Even though I have a very strong feminine side (funny thing about cross-dressing sissies) , I have many ‘manly’ traits and beliefs. I have always opened car doors for the women in my life. I always hold the door open for women in shops, I carry an umbrella in the car to hold over ♀ if it rains, I scrape her windows, I believe there is nothing on this earth as beautiful as the female form and as long as I have eyes in my head I’ll be a girl watcher, I believe you can tell a lot about a man from his handshake (I have a firm grip, but don’t try to crush fingers), I’m suspicious of a man who won’t have a beer with me, the only jewelry I wear (unless dressed up) is my wedding band and a copper bracelet, I don’t have pierced ears, I’m proud of my farts.

So you see, In many ways I really am a guy.

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99 Things about me

November 26, 2006


Many moons ago I was going to write the great Canadian novel. I have countless notebooks, files and floppy disks filled with outlines, notes, character studies, beginnings, endings and various bits and pieces of my killer first novel.

I joined writers groups and took classes. I’m a voracious reader. I know how a novel is supposed to work. How hard could it be to pound them out? Ah to be young and idealistic. I have published some short stories and a couple of poems and who knows, I might get back to that novel one day.  My focus has changed since then. I simply enjoy writing and for now that’s enough.

In one of those distant classes we were supposed to come up with 100 things that describe a main character.  The theory was that even if you only used a fraction of that information in your novel, it would give you a better understanding of who s/he was and you would have stronger more believable characters.

I’d never thought about writing a list like that for myself before, but I noticed Tess over at Urban Gypsy  had done one and it made her more believable and it altered how I read her blog.

So at the risk of seeming self-absorbed,  here’s my list of 99 things about me:

  1. I was born in 1963.
  2. I am a proud Canadian.
  3. When I was 15, I watched an uncle die of cancer on Christmas morning.
  4. I’m not a big fan of Christmas.
  5. I’m a fanatic non-smoker.
  6. I was a heavy pot smoker for 10 years. (somehow that was ok)
  7. I loved hallucinogens. (past tense)
  8. In high school I was voted ‘most likely to die choking on his own vomit’.
  9. I thought I’d be dead by 30. (so did lots of other people)
  10. I still drink (micro brews), but rarely to access. (rye & ginger)
  11. I was 17 the first time I asked for a vasectomy. (The doctor refused)
  12. I got fixed right after my son (now 10yrs old) was born.
  13. My 10-year relationship with his mother ended soon after that.
  14. I LOVE being a Dad.
  15. I wish he lived with me full time.
  16. I have been a ‘scratch’ baker since 1981.
  17. I worry that my body won’t hold up to the demands of another 20yrs of baking.
  18. I’ve been at the same shop since 1988.
  19. I make awesome bread. (More then 60 varieties)
  20. I work straight graveyard shifts.
  21. I got married for the first (and only) time in June 2004.
  22. We met in person 11/11/01.
  23. Her 17 yr old son lives with us.
  24. She proposed to me on her knee in a restaurant with my Dad’s wedding ring.
  25. My Dad died in 1994. So did my granny.
  26. I wish my Wife and Son had met my Granny and my Dad.
  27. The best people I have ever known are my Wife, Son and Granny. (Sorry Dad)
  28. All I know about love I’ve learned from them.
  29. I lost my virginity on a Mexican beach when I was 16.
  30. The only alter I kneel before is between my wife’s creamy white thighs.
  31. I have always been a very sexual person.
  32. I kept many of my desires secret until I met my wife.
  33. I told her before we got married that I am a cross-dresser.
  34. Her only request has been that the facial hair and body hair stays ON.
  35. We’re still having the best sex of my life.
  36. If schedules allowed we’d have sex twice a day. We average 5 or 6 times/week.
  37. We watch porn together.
  38. We go to see strippers together. (We’ve had private lap dances)
  39. I’m a sissy. Though what exactly that means is something we are still exploring.
  40. Every night I brush and braid her hair and also file and massage her feet. I keep her nails looking pretty and her pussy nicely trimmed. (just for starters.)
  41. In role-playing I’m usually submissive.
  42. She occasionally fucks me with a strap-on.
  43. I can wear the same harness to fuck her with 2 cocks.
  44. We’ve also used the harness to hold a butt plug in me for extended periods of time. I think the longest has been about 4 hours (we went to a hockey game)
  45. I wear women’s undies every day. We often wear each others.
  46. Except for 2 pair of silk boxers, she tossed out all my man undies.
  47. I have some clothes that could pass for male or female and I’ve gone out in these. The dresses and skirts are for at home only.
  48. I know it looks ridiculous.
  49. My toe nails are almost always painted.
  50. I have silicone breast forms and would love to have a nice wig.
  51. With kids still at home, my opportunities to get dressed are limited, but I doubt they’d be too surprised to find out. I’m guessing they’d prefer not to see dad dressed as a woman.
  52. We’ve fantasized about including other partners, but so far have never done it.
  53. She shaves my head bald every week.
  54. She’s given me golden showers.
  55. I go down on her during her period.
  56. I’ve come in her mouth, cunt and ass all in the same amazing day.
  57. We met on-line and still occasionally have phone and cyber sex.
  58. I introduced myself by emailing her some of my erotic stories.
  59. She thought I was weird. (Do you?)
  60. I like to write lots of things, but especially smut. 
  61. I’ve had several pieces published, both in print and on-line.
  62. Every time you masturbate, god kills a kitten. (Or a puppy)
  63. I’ve struggled with depression most of my life.
  64. The past 5yrs have been the happiest of my life. (That’s an amazing statement considering my legal woes of the past 2 years.)
  65. I have chronic lower back troubles.
  66. I like giving massages more then I like getting them.
  67. I drive a 2002 Mini Cooper. (Black w/ white roof)
  68. I don’t handle stress very well. (Especially financial)
  69. I’m a procrastinator.
  70. I read lots of fiction.
  71. I mostly watch cartoons on TV. (And porn)
  72. I also watch the NHL and the CFL.
  73. I can be a difficult person to get to know.
  74. Tact and subtlety are difficult concepts for me to grasp.
  75. I offend many people. Usually without trying. (very hard)
  76. I had my first real job when I was 10. (I’ve never been unemployed)
  77. I don’t understand having pets.
  78. I owned my first business when I was 21.
  79. I filed for personal bankruptcy when I was 24.
  80. A second business I owned also ended badly.
  81. Neither was a bakery.
  82. I would love to earn a living writing fiction.
  83. I know that that is highly unlikely.
  84. I’m a very good backgammon player.
  85. I’m a reasonably good cribbage player.
  86. I don’t like winter or being cold.
  87. I have a letter from Mr. Dressup. (a Canadian version of Mr. Rogers)
  88. When I was 16, I got a speeding ticket on my bicycle.
  89. I don’t eat anything deep-fried.
  90. I don’t consider ‘fast food’ to be real food.
  91. I’m a pretty good cook. My wife is a very good cook. My dad & granny were both professional cooks.
  92. Coke not Pepsi. I’ll east any fresh produce except carrots. I don’t like lemonade.
  93. I listen to mostly blues and jazz.
  94. I love being by the ocean.
  95. My wife says I’m sexy. (She’s a goddess)
  96. I’ve broken teeth and toes. (my own)
  97. I have a crooked smile. (botched orthodontics)
  98. Don’t believe anything you hear and only half of what you see.
  99.  Fighting for peace is like fucking for virginity; it just doesn’t work.
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Romeo & Susan

November 22, 2006


Prior to my 18 month legal battle, I wrote and it gave me pleasure. During that 18 months, I didn’t. Well I actually did write a lot, but it was all legal stuff. This blog was intended as a place or maybe an excuse to start writing again; some fiction, some journaling, maybe some fantasies and the occasional rant. My posts would be accompanied by interesting (to me) pics I found on-line and maybe even some pics of our own.

It turns out that just because we got a ruling on our case doesn’t mean it’s really over. Her lawyer interpruts the ruling much differently then I do. It’s not enough that I lost, he wants to put the boots to me as well. (as much as I enjoy various objects in my bottom, his boot isn’t one of them) So back to court we go to get clarification.

So today’s post is another story from my pre- legal mess archives.


Romeo & Susan

He lay dead in the ditch ten minutes after he’d snuck out my bedroom window. I couldn’t very well lie about it, could I? My parents were furious. It wasn’t so much that their precious 17-year-old daughter had a man in her room; it was that the whole neighborhood knew about him except for them. He wouldn’t start his bike in our driveway, he’d push it out into the street, but it was loud and he’d been coming in for almost two years. When I think about it now, it’s hard to believe they didn’t know.

God, even his mother knew. About six months before the accident, we were having sex in his room after school and she walked in with his laundry. I was so surprised; I jumped up off of him. I can still remember the thwack sound his cock made when it slapped down on his stomach. The funny thing was I was still wearing my dress so if I’d just sat still we might have been able to get away with it.

Tony was his older brother and we started spending time together after the funeral. At first we just talked and cried and we really did help each other, but one thing led to another and well, I think it’s a common thing to happen. Their dad had died a few years before and after Richard died their mom got sick. She wanted to see one of her sons get married. I guess it was a dumb reason, but that’s what we did. Two months later she was gone.

So you see how it was, there was all this insurance money and my dad helped us invest it. We retired before either of us had ever really worked. The first few years were great, we traveled, had a nice car, nice condo, but eventually it all seemed kind of, I don’t know…hollow. So now I spend eight months a year here then four months down south. Tony has his bottle of scotch, I have my bottle of pills, and we both have lovers and pretend not to notice.

Anyway, Tony and I fought again last night and he stormed out just after midnight. I didn’t sleep a wink and spent most of the night sitting on the deck trying to decide whom I hated more, him or me. I was a million miles away when this voice came out of nowhere.

“What light through yonder window breaks? It is the east and Juliet the sun.”
It scared the hell out of me. I looked over the railing and he stepped out so I could see him.

“Do you make a habit of sneaking up on unsuspecting women and quoting Shakespeare?”

“Nope, you’re my first. Do you make a habit of inviting strange men up to your apartment to watch the sunrise?”

Cheeky bastard. “Nope, you’re my first.” I buzzed him in, opened the apartment door, poured a tetra-pak of orange juice into a nice pitcher, found a little bottle of champagne and a couple of fancy glasses and went back out to the deck.

It was totally weird. Usually I know what to expect when men come up here and believe me, they’re not here for the sunrise. At first I got kind of nervous because he didn’t say anything, but he seemed calm and he smelled nice so I relaxed. I felt the tension start to lift from my shoulders, and then Tony came home. I told Romeo to stay put and keep quiet. Tony was pissed drunk and pissed off and got even madder when he couldn’t find his secret little stash. It was exactly where he’d left it, but of course I couldn’t say that because then it wouldn’t be a secret.

I guess I could have called the cops and told them he was driving drunk, but then I decided that maybe I’d get lucky and he’d wrap it around a telephone pole. I was sure someone on his tramp line would take him in; at least he’d be gone for a day or two. I was on my way to bed when I remembered Romeo; I suppose I could have just left him out there. I’m sure he’d have figured it was safe to come out …eventually. Nah, he was sweet. “You can come out now Romeo, he’s gone. I’m going to bed, you can stay if you’d like.”

He was so cute, I know he was trying to decide if I meant stay in the apartment or my bed and he must have been worried about the angry drunk guy, but eventually he crawled in and spooned me and we both fell asleep. It was almost dark when I woke up.

“Hey Romeo, rise and shine.”

“Have you ever had one of those dreams where something really great has happened and it seems so real and then you wake up and it hasn’t really happened at all and it’s so disappointing? It’s sure nice when the opposite happens. I had this dream where I was in bed with a beautiful woman and when I woke up…here you are.”

“Are you always so sweet? There’s a new toothbrush on the counter and no I don’t keep a fresh supply of them handy, you just got lucky. What kind of tea do you want with your bagel? I’ll answer some other questions for you so you can stop wondering. Yes, that was my husband stomping around here this morning and no, he won’t be back for a while and this is a one day only affair so don’t get any big ideas.”

“Do I get to keep the toothbrush? I’d rather have juice with my bagel and the only other question I have is do you like massages? I’ve been told I’m quite good at them and you’re obviously very tense.”

It turns out he really was good at massages. I especially enjoyed the one he called ‘pussy wibbling’.

“Do you do this often?”

“Nope. I’m desperately single and yours is the first pussy I’ve ever wibbled. Maybe you’ll reconsider your one day only policy?”

“Nah. Any longer gets complicated and messy and feelings get hurt.”
“But we’re both lonely. Isn’t it worth the risk?”

“I’ll tell you something Romeo. Contrary to what you may think, most people are lonely and you and I experience it in very different ways.”

“How do you mean?”

“Instead of loneliness, think of it as blindness. You and I are both blind. I know I’m blind, but rarely think about it. I put my efforts into having the most fulfilling life I can and don’t worry about what I might have had if I could see. I can tell by your sad puppy dog eyes (not one of your best qualities by the way) that blindness affects every part of your life. You’ve seen the movies, read the books and you’re under the delusion that you deserve to see. All your energy goes into this desperate search for someone to give you sight and you miss out on all the wonderful things that go on around you. Today is a perfect example. I enjoyed myself and when you leave I won’t be the least bit sad because I focused on what we were sharing. You were thinking about what would happen after today and so you missed out on what was going on right now. Hasn’t anyone ever told you to ’seize the day and enjoy the moment?’”

He didn’t say much after that, but I could tell he was thinking about what I’d said. We made love once more and he was more focused. He introduced me to a few more massages that I’ve never had before and then we fell asleep. I woke up just before sunrise and he was gone, but he left a note thanking me for the toothbrush and a quote by Richard Bach “The opposite of loneliness is not togetherness, it’s intimacy.”

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November 20, 2006



well….we lost.


the judge saw a dedicated mother, an unbiased therapist and an angry dad. so the ex retains sole custody, the kid continues to commute 2 hrs a day and ♀ and i move forward.


would a lawyer in the court room have made any difference? i would have come across better, but i still can’t justify another 12k on top of the 10k we had already spent to find out.


i must admit that it was frustrating to get this ruling when another judge at an earlier hearing had said that the therapist was unqualified and that only guys in jail get less access then i do. but the trial judge saw it differently and that, as they say, is that. we still haven’t heard from the law society (i filed a complaint against her lawyer) so there might be some consolation in that ruling.


1 good thing to come out of this is my child support payments have been reduced by $150/month and i no longer pay for any daycare so she might be financially motivated to allow more access.


anyway, thanks again for your words of encouragement during this difficult time. i hope all is how it should be with you and yours. keep well.






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 aussie centre fold

So this has nothing to due with being a sweaty sissy, but I’m really tired and I want to keep posting stuff. I wrote this a few years ago (it’s absolute fiction), but it’s never been published. So enjoy!

On Wednesday December 15/1984 three days after my twenty-first birthday I won one million dollars on the lottery. One of the conditions to collecting the money was allowing them to use my name, voice and image for advertising purposes and this is what I said for my sound byte.
“I would like to take this opportunity to tell all my fair-weather friends and blood-sucking relatives that I’m planning on spending all this money on hookers and beer so don’t even bother calling me because the answer is no.”
Most people saw the humour in this, but my mother a mean, vindictive woman did not and she decided to put her new law degree to good use. She started two separate legal actions. In the first case she wanted compensation for the hardships and sacrifices of motherhood. The second was a slander suit on behalf of all my fair weather friends and blood-sucking relatives living or dead. The second action was tossed out, but the compensation suit for my mother went ahead. These things take quite awhile to wind through the courts and in the meantime I was young and rich and having a rockin’ good time.
I traveled most of the first year and that was great. I took the train across Canada, and then did the Europe thing, a little of Asia, then down to New Zealand and Australia. I wasn’t interested in learning very much about the cultures, but I met lots of interesting people and it was definitely the best year of my life. I gave money to outrageous charities and didn’t keep receipts, bought nice clothes and cool hats.
I lost money on slow horses and to fast card sharks, but mostly I just partied…hard. At that age, as far as I was concerned there were only two possibilities; I would live forever or be dead by age thirty. Either way I certainly didn’t consider investing any of the money. The only thing of value I purchased outright was a cherry red Jag. I didn’t know anything about cars and just wanted something cool and different and that was perfect. I leased a luxury condo and all the furnishings, electronics, art and plants were rented and completely changed every six months. Even the women were rented and I make no apologies for this. These weren’t sad drug addicted streetwalkers from broken homes. No, these were beautiful talented women who had chosen their profession with eyes wide open. They had a calling in life like nuns to a convent. Of all the things I miss from that time in my life it’s those women that I miss the most.
My mother won her first and as far as I know her only case and was awarded most of what I had left. I had to break the lease on the condo and sell the Jag. On June15 1987, thirty months after winning one million dollars, I filed for personal bankruptcy and went back to driving a Zamboni for a living.

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Cum On My Tits

November 9, 2006

It was 5yrs ago this week that ♀ & I met in person. To mark that happy occasion, I’m posting the following story. Though I’m not sure when this particular evening happened…

“Cum on my tits” she whispers and it pushes me over the edge. I spurt and spit and she squeezes my load onto her ample breasts. She massages it into her smooth flesh and explains that she wants to be covered by me, touched by me, marked with my scent. “When I dance with you tonight I want to smell our love,” she says.

Later, I watch her as she pours herself into the lingerie that drives me wild and I consider again how much has changed. A year ago we were both skeptical of each others body type and even though svelte still catches my eye, it’s her warm soft curves that rock me to the core.

We get dressed up and walk down to The Copper Room. It’s a big hotel dining room right out of the ’40’s with thick red carpets, low chandeliers, a huge dance floor, a house band and more cutlery on the table then we know what to do with. For a few hours we are transformed from middle class white trash into pampered, elegant socialites. We dine, dance, drink and stare into each others eyes. We touch and kiss, stay focused on each other, living in the moment.

As we’re waiting for our dessert and fancy coffees the band comes back from a break and stop at our table. The Jones Boys introduce themselves then sing a love song just for us. It’s an anniversary of sorts, we met about a year ago and I think how sweet of her to do this. At the end of the song she gets down on one knee, holds out my dads wedding band and asks me to marry her. The Jones Boys go back on stage and announce what has happened and invite us on to the floor to dance. They play “Going to the Chapel” and there is only us on the floor and after that there is still only us.

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Breast Test

November 6, 2006


Shortly after ♀ & I started dating, I convinced her to go with me to see some strippers. She had never been to see female strippers before and I had never gone with a woman. We were both pleasantly surprised. For one thing, it is much more common for women to go to strip clubs then it was ten years ago. (The ‘S’ word was not even permitted to be mentioned in my past relationship)

I view them in a much different way then I did before. We discuss outfits (what looks good on the dancer and what might look good on either of us), music choices, dancing skills, interaction with the audience, body types and overall sex appeal. As well as other factors.

However, no matter how well a girl scores in all other areas the one thing that undoes it all for ♀ is fake boobies. She can not stand them. The only way it might be OK is if the boob job is done well enough that there might be some doubt as to whether or not they are real. It’s funny but she doesn’t complain very much about fake boobies in porn. Maybe that’s because there are so few real ones in porn these days, or maybe it’s just a completely different situation. (I’ll ask her later) I should point out that ♀ has had a breast reduction. So even though a surgeon helped her get her beautiful breasts, it’s all hers. I think we’re getting a digital camera for xmas and hopefully she’ll let me post pics of her goddessness.

Anyway, she has taught me well because I scored 18/20 on this breast test. Try it yourself and post the results and say hello! 

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Girly Jeans

November 5, 2006

“Dad are you wearing mom’s jeans?” the 10yr old son asks.

“No, they’re my jeans.” They are low rise stretchy denim with flared legs and I hike them up a bit to make sure my pink panties aren’t peeking out the top.

“I’ve seen him wear those before,” says the 17yr old. “They’re girl jeans. Don’t you think those are girl jeans?” He asks the new girlfriend. “First painted toe nails now girl jeans mom is turning you into a woman.”

“And don’t forget he even had painted finger nails that matched his toes for a while last summer,” says the younger kid pulling off a sock to show the new girlfriend that they’re not making it up. “If mom told you to wear a dress and a purple wig you would do it wouldn’t you?”

The new girlfriend is clearly rattled by the conversation and my pretty pink toenails. ♀ saves the day by announcing that dinner is ready.

I wonder if this is the best approach with the kids; letting them see a little bit at a time. It is possible that either of them could walk in on me and me see fully dressed en femme and that wouldn’t be so good. I could sit them down and tell them straight out that I’m a cross-dressing sissy and explain what that means. Though that could be difficult since ♀ are still exploring that ourselves.

Also, the younger kid is only with us part time. Would his mother haul my frilly ass back to court for deviant behavior?

When we picked him up from school on Halloween, ♀ told him she wanted me to go to the school dressed as a woman (for a costume), but that we’d ran out of time. She asked if he would have been embarrassed. He laughed and said no, he thought it would have been hilarious.

I don’t think either kid would be very suprised. ♀ & I have been painting each others toenails for years, they’ve seen some unusual clothing choices, they know I brush and braid mom’s hair every night. And neither of them expect me to be a ‘normal’ dad, what ever the hell that means.

If it was my dad and I was their age…hmmm…. I think I would probably accept it, but I think I would prefer not to know about it. The thought of my dad in a dress with fake boobies and a wig is not an image I want to dwell on.

Any opinions?

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The Lap of Luxury

November 1, 2006


♀ & I met on the on-line dating site lavalife almost 5 yrs ago. My strategy for meeting women on this site was to send them some of my erotica (or at least i thought it was erotica) as a means of introduction. Most, including ♀ thought I was a weirdo. The following story managed to catch her attention (probably because it is written from a woman’s point of view) and she agreed to chat with me.

The Lap of Luxury

        He holds her as the last big orgasm ripples through her body. They’ve been in bed for hours and the room has that sweet funky smell of  slow gentle lovemaking mixed with fast furious fucking and everything in between.

That was an amazing afternoon, I am well and truly satisfied, I just want him to hold me as I drift off to sleep.

She’s lying on her tummy and he’s playing with her hair, he lifts it up and starts licking along the edge of her scalp.

That’s disappointing.  All day he was so in tune with what I wanted,  he really seemed to listen to my body, he wasn’t afraid to say, “show me, tell me.”  He should know I’ve had enough,  I’m tired and sore. I guess it’s true, ALL men are pigs.

He licks down her neck and across her shoulder blades. He starts down her spine and licks along each vertebrae before moving further down. Only his tongue touches her.

I guess I shouldn’t be so bitchy;  he was wonderful today, but I’m too sore. They are so hard to train.

He works down her back, covering every inch. He gets to her  butt and covers one cheek then the next with long slow licks. She spreads her legs and he licks down her crack, over her rose bud, and along the fleshy part at the top of her thighs.

I’m not sure what surprises me more; that someone would put their mouth there or how nice it feels.

He licks down one thigh to the back of her knee and gives it some special attention, then the other thigh and lingers at the back of that knee. He slides down one calf then the next; over her ankles and along the soles of her feet.

It should tickle, but I am soooo relaxed.

She rolls over and he sucks each individual toe into his mouth and bathes her feet with his tongue. Slowly he moves up her shins, over her knees and up her legs towards her aching pussy.

Damn, this feels so nice, but I  don’t think I can do it again today.

Slowly and carefully he licks all around her sex and finally up along her outer lips, but he doesn’t penetrate her with his tongue or find her over stimulated clit. He  keeps licking upwards, through her pubic hair, along her hips and up toward her tummy.

Wow, what an amazing sensation.

He licks her navel and the rest of her tummy, along her rib cage and up to her breasts. He  slowly licks all over one and then the other, but he doesn’t touch her sore nipples.  He moves across the soft skin along the side of her breast, lifts her arm up and licks her arm pit. Then he does the side of the other breast and licks that arm pit.

Hmmm…that should tickle too. I can’t believe how relaxing this is, I can barely stay awake. This must be what it feels to be a kitten being bathed by its mom.

He licks along one arm lingering at the inside of her elbow, then the other arm. He sucks on each individual finger and savouring the ones that still have her nectar on them. When he’s done he gently kisses her lips and lays down beside her.

Talk about being in the lap of luxury. That was sooo nice, I  should tell him before I fall asleep…

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