You’ll never guess what happened. Go on try.

Nope, you guessed wrong.

Last Friday was payday and on my way home I had a hunch and stopped at the casino. I walked in the front door at 5 am with $20 in my pocket and was back in my car at 5:15 am with $1137 cash in my pocket. How cool is that? I stopped at Tim Hortons and got a coffee for ♀ and drove over to her place of employment and asked her to take an early coffee break and meet me in the parking lot. When she got into the car I told her to close her eyes and I put eleven $100 bills on her lap.

We decided we should treat ourselves and booked a room at the hotel where ♀ proposed to me five years ago. We told the kid we were just going for dinner; we didn’t want any parties happening while we were gone. So Saturday afternoon we headed out. Of course with money burning a hole in my pocket, we needed to make a couple of stops first. You’ll be amazed to hear we didn’t buy any lingerie. We bought these and these. Well to tell the truth they’re knock-offs and a third of the price, but they are darn cute. And yes we both tried them on at the store. The sales person took it in stride *lol* and told ♀ she was lucky to have a husband with the same size feet. Actually hers are about a half a size smaller, but what’s a half a size between lovers, right?

We also looked at a dress for me. It was soooo cute. Picture late 50’s prom dress; It came down to just below the knee with a built in crinoline (nice and poofy), silky material, polka dots and a little pink bow. It would have been my very first brand new dress and it was on sale for half price ($50) and I wanted it soooo bad, but there was no way in hell I was going to fit into a size 10. Sigh. If it had fit I would have seriously consider wearing it to dinner. The restaurant has a formal dress code, I wonder what they would have done if I’d showed up in a dress.

We had a quick dunk in the hot springs then got ready for dinner. Because we’d been in a hurry to pack, neither of us saw what the other had packed and we both ended up bringing the same stockings. Want to bet we were the only couple there both wearing black fishnet? ♀ wore the bustier pictured above for the first time. She looked incredible. We danced and touched and I felt totally connected with her. Dinner was fabulous. The lobster bisque was first rate. I tired cariboo (caribou?) for the first time. It was very moist and tender. It was expensive, but good. I also discovered that I really like cognac. So dinner ended up being expensive. We had cocktails before dinner, a bottle of wine with dinner and I had cognac after dinner so it was probably a very good thing that we had a room booked.

The hallways in the old part of the hotel reminded me of the Shining. I half expected to see Jack come bursting through a doorway with an axe and an evil grin, Here’s Johnny or twin girls on tricycles riding towards us, Come play with us Danny.  But the only little girl in the deserted hallway was ♀, necking and groping me like a sex-crazed teenager. The ancient elevator was slow enough for her to get my pants down to my ankles. I watched her in the mirror as she pulled my white lace panties aside and took my thickening cock into her mouth. She held onto my pink garter and her long blonde hair brushed my naked thighs and the tops of my black fishnet stockings.

<!–[if !supportEmptyParas]–><!–[endif]–> ♀ jumped up when the bell sounded to announce our floor. The door opened and she stood in front of me and explained to the old gentleman waiting for the elevator where the nearest ice machine was as I tried to do my pants up without getting Mr. Happy caught in the zipper.

<!–[if !supportEmptyParas]–><!–[endif]–> When we got back to the room, ♀ insisted I call junior to let him know we wouldn’t be home until the next day. He was a little disappointed as he was hoping for a sober ride home from the house party he was at. I did the responsible ‘dad’ thing and told him to take a cab home; I’d pay him back the fare and take him to pick up his car when we got home later. It was hard to concentrate on the conversation because ♀ had taken her skirt off and was playing with herself, then rubbing her fragrant fingers in my mustache.

<!–[if !supportEmptyParas]–><!–[endif]–> Once I’d hung up, I grabbed her black garter belt and buried my face in the pussy I’d so carefully shaved the night before.  She watched me for a few moments then pulled me up. I kissed her gently and she turned her head.

“Would you mind if I asked you to take off your camisole?” I did as she asked.

I kissed her again. Gently. Again she stopped.

“I want you to make love to me like my husband.”

I held her face as I kissed her again. Harder. I lifted her legs up to my shoulders and rubbed my cock across her moist cunt lips; up and down, up and down cock against clit until she was purring like a pampered cat with eyes half closed. I slid further back then thrust forward, entering her completely in one hard push. She gasped and her eyes flew open. I pinned her wrists behind her head and fucked her like that. Hard. Fast. Masculine?

<!–[if !supportEmptyParas]–><!–[endif]–> When I was done I sat on the edge of the bed and finished my beer watching her play in my cum and giving herself a small orgasm. We went for a midnight dip in the hot springs and when we got back she was asleep before her head hit the pillow.

<!–[if !supportEmptyParas]–><!–[endif]–> The problem I have with going away is I don’t sleep at night. So after ♀ is asleep there’s not much for me to do (camping is worse).  I finished reading Life of Pi by Yann Martel, a truly wonderful novel and watched Little Miss Sunshine, a very fun movie and fell asleep around 6am.

<!–[if !supportEmptyParas]–><!–[endif]–> ♀ did manage to get a noon checkout time, but even still 11 am came mighty early. She was packed and horny again. I’m not at my best when I first wake up, but was willing to try my best. I laid back and she straddled me, held my face and kissed me hard like I’d done the night before. She kissed and sucked and bit my nipples until I was hard again and she eased herself onto my cock. After a few minutes she moved her legs together and put mine on the outside wrapped around her hips. I love this position; it looks and with a little imagination almost feels like she’s fucking me with a strap-on.

<!–[if !supportEmptyParas]–><!–[endif]–> She handed me the digital camera and told me to start shooting. I clicked and she talked trash. Telling me how she was going to get me that prom dress and she’d do my make-up thick and dirty and she’d whore me out to all her friends, males and females. I’d be her sissy slut. She’s quit her job and live off my horny little ass, fucking and sucking anyone she told me to.

<!–[if !supportEmptyParas]–><!–[endif]–> When I was done, she rolled off and spread her lips. She wanted a picture of my cum dripping out of her freshly fucked cunt. Then she pushed me down and I licked and sucked and nibbled and fingered until she yelled, “Here it comes Baby, I’m going to shoot my hot sticky load right down your throat! Swallow it all bitch. That’s it!” And she made up for the little O she’d had the night before.

<!–[if !supportEmptyParas]–><!–[endif]–> On the drive home we talked about her request from the night before that I make love to her like her husband. Her point was that she’d felt really good all night. She felt sexy and could see the desire I had for her in my eyes. She just wanted that to continue. She wanted me to take her like a man. No sissy stuff.

<!–[if !supportEmptyParas]–><!–[endif]–> My response was that it doesn’t matter if I’m in a dress or a suit my desire for her is the same. Many cross-dressers have completely separate male and female personalities. I don’t. I’m a mixture of both. Her request made me feel like I needed to act like something else. We talked about my ongoing requests for her to be more dominate versus her very rare requests for me to be less of a sissy.

<!–[if !supportEmptyParas]–><!–[endif]–>I’m delighted to report that we were able to have this conversation without hurt feelings or getting off track. It was a real achievement for us both.

<!–[if !supportEmptyParas]–><!–[endif]–> Cheers,

<!–[if !supportEmptyParas]–><!–[endif]–> sss

3 poems for ♀ on Robbie Burns Day

A Red, Red Rose

[Hear Red, Red Rose]
1794
Type: Poem

O my Luve’s like a red, red rose,
That’s newly sprung in June:
O my Luve’s like the melodie,
That’s sweetly play’d in tune.

As fair art thou, my bonie lass,
So deep in luve am I;
And I will luve thee still, my dear,
Till a’ the seas gang dry.

Till a’ the seas gang dry, my dear,
And the rocks melt wi’ the sun;
And I will luve thee still, my dear,
While the sands o’ life shall run.

And fare-thee-weel, my only Luve!
And fare-thee-weel, a while!
And I will come again, my Luve,
Tho’ ’twere ten thousand mile!

——————————————————————————-

My Girl She’s Airy

Fragment
1784
Type: Song
Tune: Black Jock.

My girl she’s airy, she’s buxom and gay;
Her breath is as sweet as the blossoms in May;
A touch of her lips it ravishes quite:
She’s always good natur’d, good humour’d, and free;
She dances, she glances, she smiles upon me;
I never am happy when out of her sight.

————————————————————————————

Thine Am I, My Faithful Fair

1793
Type: Song
Tune: The Quaker’s Wife.

Thine am I, my faithful Fair,
Thine, my lovely Nancy;
Ev’ry pulse along my veins,
Ev’ry roving fancy.
To thy bosom lay my heart,
There to throb and languish;
Tho’ despair had wrung its core,
That would heal its anguish.

Take away those rosy lips,
Rich with balmy treasure;
Turn away thine eyes of love,
Lest I die with pleasure!
What is life when wanting Love?
Night without a morning:
Love’s the cloudless summer sun,
Nature gay adorning.

You might think that with all the lingerie shopping we do, we would spend a great deal of time just lounging about in the sexiest of play-wear. Sadly, this is not the case. All of what we have purchased in recent months would be considered ‘daywear’. Sexy, yes, but not designed specifically for sex or show. A slip of a Girl wrote a nice piece explaining the difference, if you’re unsure.  ♀ does have some play-wear, but it doesn’t seem to get worn very often.

There are a few reasons for this:  I work nights, she works early mornings. We find the time to have daily lovin’, but finding the time to get dressed-up for it is more of a challenge. Also, she needs to feel sexy (not just horny) to make the effort of dressing up. In my underdeveloped male brain, the dressing up sexy would lead directly to the feeling sexy, but apparently it doesn’t work that way.  It has occurred to me that my cross-dressing is part of the problem. She insists that that’s not the case, but it’s very rare that we both put on play-wear at the same time.

We went out with friends last night and after we came home and had rid the premises of all the teens that had congregated in our absence, I checked my email and blog (a little sad that I only lasted 4 days on 25 peeps) while ♀ went upstairs to get ready for bed. When I arrived, ♀ had lit all the candles and was lounging on our bed in a lovely red satin bustier with black lace and a tiny red mesh thong. She had taken her hair out of the braid I had done earlier in the day so her hair, normally poker straight, was wavy and exotic in the candle light.

“Get undressed, slowly.”

I did as I was instructed and started nibbling on her toes.

“No, not that. Come up here and make out with me. I want to feel desired by you. Help me feel like the sexy goddess you’re always saying I am.”

I kissed her long and deep, sucked her tongue into my mouth, nibbled on her lips, bit her neck and earlobes hard enough to make her jump. I squeezed her breasts and pinched her nipples through the satin fabric of her sexy outfit. I teased her clit until the mesh of her thong was soaked.

She squirmed beneath me and whispered, “would you like to feel the satin on your cock, baby?”

She put an extra pillow behind her head.  I straddled her chest and started sliding my cock through the red satin valley of her cleavage. She grabbed my ass and pulled me closer and took me into her mouth. Every thrust she took deeper until I was fucking her mouth to the hilt. The feel of her throat muscles on the head of my cock when I thrust in and the candle light reflecting on my slick shaft and red satin when I pulled out almost pushed me over, but she wanted needed more.

I moved back down, pulled her thong aside and entered her easily. She started sucking and biting my nipples (my nips are hard wired to my penis). After a few minutes I put my legs astride hers and knelt down with my knees against her hips. (I’m sure this position has a name, but I don’t know it) I like it because I think of it as a ’sissy’ position, when I look down it’s not hard to imagine the cock going into me. She likes it because she has unobstructed access to her clit.

She came once like that, but I knew she wasn’t done. “Fuck me from behind.” She commanded.

I took her thong off and slid slowly all the way inside her hot wet cunt. I’ve hurt her in this position before and it makes me feel really bad so I try to be careful. She was having none of that. “Fuck me hard, bitch,” she growled, “fuck me like you really mean it.”

I grabbed her hips and pulled out until the tip of my cock was at her entrance. I slammed it home and she shuddered. I did it again and again and again, long, hard and deep. I imagined myself fucking her so deep, the tip of my cock was coming right out her mouth. (great idea for a sex toy: a masturbation sleeve with a woman’s head at one end)

She was rubbing her clit with one hand and trying to stop me from pushing her through the headboard with the other when she came for the second time. I came right behind her (so to speak).

Was she done? Not this girl, not tonight. She leaned forward, “kiss my ass, bitch.” I kissed and nibbled on her luscious ass cheeks, but that was clearly not what she had in mind. She pushed back hard against my face until my tongue was inside her tight little ass hole.

When she’d had enough of that, she rolled onto her back and pushed my head down. “Eat me, baby. Lick all your cum out of my hot little cunt.” She held my head in place with one hand and attacked her clit again with the other. All the while talking dirty, “Get it all, bitch, lick all that hot salty cum out of my cunt, you like being my cum sucking bitch, don’t you? You’ll eat anything that comes out of my cunt, won’t you? Can you still taste my blood (her period had just finished) bitch?” (Yes, yes, yes and yes)

I slid two fingers inside her, curled them up and started stroking her fleshy G-spot. I could feel the contractions on my fingers as her final big O started to build. For once everything fell into place exactly as it was supposed to. I kept up the right rhythm and the right position, she was able to block out all other thoughts and not get a leg cramp (a risk with really big orgasms). Her final big O of the night was huge. I could tell because her foot was against my thigh and I could feel her toes curling. Always a good sign. I thought she would crush my hand with her pussy or snap my neck with her thighs, but it was all good and I was rewarded with a huge mouthful of her sweet tasting nectar.

I don’t sleep at night, so even on my nights off I usually get up as soon as she falls asleep, but I held her and listened to her breathing for several hours last night. It was nice.

Well, I’ve got to go and wash floors, finish laundry and get breakfast started for when my goddess wakes up.

Cheers,

sss

ps….our new bed squeaks.

yippee, I’m on 25 peeps. click here to stroke my ego and you can always leave a comment to stroke some other parts.

cheers

sss

Holy Doodle!!! I made it onto Fleshbot!!!

For those of you who are not over-educated skanks (no disrespect intended) you might want to click here to see exactly what a sestina is.    I’ll wait.

Do you understand how it’s supposed to work? Don’t feel bad. I didn’t either. Try this description . Trust me, you’ll enjoy this more if you sort of understand what you’re reading. Why, you might ask didn’t I get this published before posting it here? Well, I did try. The thing is it’s to sexual for mainstream publications and not sexy enough for erotica publications. And I’m darn proud of it, so here it is.

btw…Zoe is NOT a necrophile. 

 

Sestina for Zoe

 

She sits naked on the edge of the tub filled with her step-kids’ toys,

The cologne in the water filling the room with his scent.

They’d promised till death do us part and now she’s no longer his wife,

But his widow and her life beyond this day impossible to picture.

So many unfulfilled hopes and dreams, so many regrets.

The steam soothes her tear-stained eyes with dampness.

 

She eases into the hot bath, picks up the rye and ginger. The dampness

Trickles down the glass. His drink. His music, but she regrets

The choice. She can’t stand Tom Waits and throws bath toys

At the player until it stops. On the wall is a picture

From their honeymoon. They’re so in love, this man and his wife.

She pauses before finishing the drink to savour its scent.

 

In the kitchen the white roses have wilted and lost their scent.

She stares at them, nonplussed. Fresh from the bath, she shivers from the dampness.

The funeral arrangements were hijacked by his mother and his first wife.

“Think of the children,” they wailed. At the parlour entrance was a wedding picture.

That wedding and those children are not hers. Tomorrow they’ll pick up their toys.

She’s left with only his name and this house. More regrets.

 

Their happiness was a gift, she tells herself. No more regrets.

It was she who brought the white roses that hid the scent

Of death. She was with him at the end, holding his hand, wiping the dampness

From his brow. After he was gone she was the wife

They asked for permission to harvest his organs. She likes to picture

The doctor’s shock if she’d insisted on keeping his cock for a sex toy.

 

It’s her first night alone in this bed. She brings out her favourite toys

And reminisces about their last time here. She allows herself to regret

Being so casual about their final night together as husband and wife.

Her hands explore her body. She buries her face in his pillow, trying to capture his scent.

Her first widowed orgasm comes jagged and raw and leaves her face damp

With tears. As the shaking stops, she sees in her mind’s eye a picture.

 

It’s their honeymoon and they’ve just made love. She sees the picture

Taken from above their bed. He’s spooning her. His hand cups her breast, his damp

Cock nestled between the cheeks of her ass like a cherished toy.

An ocean breeze mixes with their lovemaking and fills the room with the scent

Of life. This vision will be her talisman, banishing all regrets.

She finds comfort knowing she was his last wife.

 

She thinks perhaps she’ll paint that picture and title it “Husband and Wife”.

She remembers their combined scent as she inhales deeply from the still damp

Toy. She’s stronger now, ready to face tomorrow without regret. 

 

I found this photo at erosblog the other day and it amused me so much that I added it to my profile. I love old cartoons. Now that I think about it, Bugs Bunny probably introduced me to cross dressing. You probably know that Mel Blanc did the voices for all those old Warner Bros. cartoons, but did you know he also had a radio program? We listen to old radio shows at the bakery at night and sometimes his show is on. It’s kinda cool because you can hear the beginnings of lots of the cartoon characters. You can download the shows if you’re interested. Just click here.

Last Friday night/Saturday morning while I was toiling away at work and ♀ was sleeping, some rat bastard broke into our house. We lost about $1500 worth of stuff including our new digital camera. Fortunately I had deleted the pics off the camera (and onto the pc) of me dressed and ♀ undressed. ♀ filed a claim on Monday and they told her it would take a few weeks to process. She explained that her sons’18th bday is this weekend so they gave us the approval to replace the camera and memory card now. We went to Walmart and the camera dep’t is right next to the ladies dep’t and they were having a huge sale so you don’t need to guess where we ended up. We seem to spend a lot of time shopping for lingerie lately. ♀ found a bunch of panties for herself and we found a beautiful dark green bra for me. The cool thing about this bra is it has much more padding then my other ‘B’ cup bras so when i tried it on with my silicone inserts, I had really nice boobies. I put on a low cut sweater and I was thrilled with the cleavage. ♀ grabbed me from behind and said “Wow, they feel as big as mine.” I was so pleased. I also bought a pair of ’strawberry smoothie’ (pink) leggings. ♀ said she’s seen girls wearing them underneath skirts, and I was thinking they might also feel sexy under my jeans.

When’s the last time you had sex in three different beds in three consecutive days? We did this week. And since we role play so often it could even be argued that it was with different people every day. We made love in our bed on Sunday, then moved the kids bed into our room on Monday and on Tuesday we got our new bed! Yippee! The company took the old bed away and juniors bed was in worse shape then ours…that’s why the switch. Anyway, this bed is fanfuckintastic. I don’t think I’ve ever slept in such a comfy bed. It’s also quite high so I’m thinking there might be some positions we haven’t tried before.

I mentioned in an earlier post that I’d bought a couple of books to try and encourage ♀ to be more dominate. I thought they’d received a lukewarm reaction, but I guess it was more a question of timing. For the past week or so while I’ve been braiding her hair and massaging her feet, ♀ has been reading aloud from the Sexually Dominate Woman by Lady Green. Several times so far, Ms. green has referred to both participants as ‘loving, equal partners’ and ’sensations as being neither good nor bad, just part of a wide spectrum’. These are two big issues for ♀ and I think we’re both learning things. Who knows, maybe we’ll reverse the roles occasionally.

Anyway, considering I really didn’t have anything specific in mind when I sat down to write today, I seem to have rattled on for long enough.

Cheers

‘Cross-dressing sissy’ is very much a work in progress and it has required compromises from both of us. Actually, the cross-dressing part has been the easiest for her to accept. Once she got over the shock and was reassured that I’m not gay, cross-dressing has continued to evolve at a pace I think we’ve both been comfortable with. Her first husband announced that he played for the other team six weeks after their baby was born. So it’s understandable why she was skittish.

It’s the sissy part of the equation that has been the most difficult for her to accept and has caused the most conflict. She really is a ‘mum’ in the truest sense of the word. She likes having a clean and tidy house and gets pleasure from getting everything just right. She loves to cook. She sews…she’s even sewed some of my girly clothes. Her nature is to be nurturing and caring. She makes chicken noodle soup (from scratch) when ever anyone is sick, she helped heal a 28 year rift between my mother and I, she’s kind and gentle and if either of her husbands had have been different men she would have loved to have raised a house full of kids.

In her perfect world we would be equals in every way. It is not in her nature to dominate me, but the sissy in me craves to be dominated. I do not believe she can bring herself to think of me as a sissy. Even activities that I think of as acts of submission; brushing and braiding her hair, filing her feet, massaging her hands, painting her nails, shaving her pussy, doing more housework then the average Joe, I’m sure she thinks of as just her good fortune at having a very attentive husband.

I’ve emailed her links to blogs written by women I think have been in a similar situation to her and if she reads them she doesn’t mention it. I’ve bought books that I hoped would encourage and reassure her that gather dust on her book shelf. Her rare half-hearted attempts are done out of obligation and leave me cold.

It would be a simple thing to say, “if you loved me you would do this for me and enjoy it.” But I know that that’s unfair. I’m asking her to be something she is not. It’s not her fault that I know her so well that I know when she’s faking it. So, for the most part I’ve stopped asking. But of course she also knows when I am faking it and knows that I am denying part of who I am. She feels like she is stopping me from exploring who I might become. She also knows that I would do anything for her. I think she probably feels guilty about not being able to do this and I feel guilty for wanting something that she can’t give and on and on it goes. Part of the problem is I don’t have a clear idea of where I want this to go. I can say I’d like to try this or that, but have no idea of where I’d like us to end up. I think the journey for me is more important then the destination. That must make it even more difficult for ♀.

We do try to bridge the gap with trash talk during love making and ♀ is very good at talking dirty. (she’d make a fantastic phone sex operator.) I went back to work Jan2, but ♀ didn’t go back until Jan 3. Before I left she asked me to call her when I was done because she wanted to get up and make me breakfast. I told her there wouldn’t be much on and did she really want to get up at 5 am on her last day off? She assured me she did and I came home to eggs benny and the love of my life.

After we went to bed and started getting each other excited, she told me she was very disappointed with me. She’d been nice enough to let me wear her new red dress, but I hadn’t hung it up properly and she’d found it in a heap on the closet floor. The rest of the clothes I’d borrowed were piled up on her dresser. She threatened not to let me borrow her clothes anymore and talked about all the things I would need to do for mommy to make it up to her. The entire time we were making love she described how she would turn me over her knee and spank me with a wooden spoon until I was crying like the weak little sissy I am. How my little red ass would be so sore I wouldn’t be able to sit down for a week. How I’d only be able to wear the softest of nighties and the next day she’d bend me over the back of the couch and fuck my still stinging bum with the strap-on. I think that’s about the time I came. She came shortly after and insisted that I lick her clean so there is hope. And for now that hope and a good imagination is enough. Click here for sisssy pic

—————————————————————————————————

I think I was about 12 or 13 the last time my old man used the belt on me, though I don’t remember the event. I do remember the last time my mother threatened to use corporal punishment. I was probably about 11 years old and was fighting with my sister. She was three years younger and still feared my mother (i think she still does). Anyway, my mother yelled at us from another part of the house to stop fighting. I continued to do what ever it was I was doing to torment my sister. More yelling was followed by the rattling of the cutlery drawer, but I didn’t stop. Finally my mother burst into the bedroom brandishing the dreaded wooden spoon. She smacked it down on a stool for dramatic effect and it broke off in her hand. There she stood with an angry look on her face and holding a little wooden handle. I did what any cheeky 11 year old in the same situation would do.

I laughed.

So the last couple of days of 2006 were really nice and I hope it’s a sign (if I believed in signs) of positive things to come in 2007.

Saturday night was ♀’s staff party. She and a co-worker decided they were going to treat themselves and get their hair and make-up done that afternoon. While she was at the mall waiting for JA,   ♀ just happened to find the perfect red dress and black strappy heels. She’d had her wardrobe picked out for weeks and it’s not like her to be so impulsive, but “it fits like it was made for me and it was on sale and I’m not going to wear a bra or panties.” It’s not like I was going to protest that.

All she wore underneath was a red garter and black stockings with the lace at the top. Her long blonde hair was done in ringlets and her make up was perfect and she glowed. She kept looking in the mirror and saying “I am so beautiful” like she was seeing for the first time what I see every day. I wore my Loony Tunes boxers in case you were wondering.

The party was held in a banquet room above a local casino and several people including JA had rented rooms at the adjacent hotel. We met at her room and she was getting frustrated. Her stay-ups were already starting to slip. “They usually do”, I said “don’t you have anything else?” She’s in the early stages of her divorce (papers filed, house for sale, but family all still living there) one day a couple of weeks ago, she threw out all her high heels, all her lingerie and all her sex toys! I could not begin to understand, but being a hell of a nice guy, I drove home and brought back one of our garter belts for her to wear.

I think there were about 250 people at the party and ♀ lit up the room. It was wonderful to see her so happy. It reminded me of how happy she looked on our wedding day. In fact she got the DJ to play the song she walked down the isle to; ‘Unchained Melody” the Righteous Brothers version.

When she wasn’t flirting with me, ♀ was flirting with JA. If it wasn’t for body image issues, I think ♀ would love being with women and I’ve told her JA would be an ideal first. I admit it’s a self-serving theory, but I think I’m right.

Everyone at the party received a $5 token for the casino and as we were leaving the party, we stopped in. ♀ & I won $250 between us. Yippee!! After that six of us went back to JA’s room. There was JA and her unofficial date, trying desperately to get her into bed, a male co-worker (Bob) and his wife and ♀ & I. It turns out all three women have had breast reductions (what are the odds?)

♀ had hers done about 6 years ago, Mrs. Bob about 3 years ago and JA six weeks ago. They were discussing swelling and scarring and all of a sudden ♀ pops her boobs out of her dress. Then Mrs. Bob does the same thing. JA says hers are still to ugly to show off and the two other women try to reassure her that it’ll get better. They all get right up close and personal. ♀ explains that the scarring on the underside of her breasts is quite thick because of an allergic reaction to surgical tape, but since they didn’t use tape on her nipples they look perfect. Mrs. Bob has fine scarring along the underside and all around her nipples. JA can’t imagine hers ever looking normal. They’re just starting to discuss nipple sensitivity, lost and/or gained when I blurt out, “They removed your nipples?!! I didn’t know that. We’ve been together for 5 years. How could I possibly not know that?!!”

After the laughing and my blushing stopped I realized that it made sense. Take away half of the boobage and the nipples would be in the wrong place, but I honestly had never thought of it before. I was to embarrassed to ask, but do they need to do nipple relocation when they do breast implants?

So after a night of lusting after my radiant wife and seeing her publicly expose herself I was looking forward to some hot sweaty lovin’ when we got home. I went pee and when I got back to the bedroom she was snoring; dress and shoes still on. She made it up to me the next afternoon with breakfast in bed and a blow job. If there’s a better way to wake up, I don’t know it.

We decided to get in on some of the end of the year sales. ♀ wanted to buy a 2nd set of the Mikasa dishes we got for a Christmas present and I need new running shoes and work shoes. Instead we bought a new bed (to be delivered Jan 9) and a bag full of bra’s (4 for her, 1 for me) and panties (1 for her, 4 for me).

When we got home, ♀ told me to put on the clothes she had been wearing the night before. The only difference was that I needed to wear a bra and my silicone boobies to fill out the front of the dress. I didn’t have ringlets or my make-up done, but I sure felt pretty. I trimmed her pubes, filed and massaged her feet and rubbed lotion into her hands, brushed and braided her hair Our passionate love making session ended at 3 minutes to midnight. Just as well because she was snoring again by 10 minutes after. A pretty good way to end a pretty crappy year.

Click here to see the pretty red dress.

All the best to you and yours in 2007.