I just discovered that if you’re using Internet Explorer as your browser while reading this blog, a lot of the text is covered up by the blog roll. Try using Firefox. It’s way much better.

My very first Christmas present to ♀ was this. Keep in mind we had only known each other for about six weeks at the time. She was, to say the least, surprised. She gave me a very appropriate box set of jazz CD’s that I had mentioned. Fortunately she didn’t toss me out on my ear. Of course her friends and family asked what I had given her. Clearly this would give some indication of the sort of man I was and would determine if I was worthy of her affection. She was, understandably, vague. When these same people asked me…I told them. For some strange reason, most of her family doesn’t like me.

Sometime after that, the dildo from the shiny pail found its way into ♀ bum. Followed a few days later by my penis (the toy had been removed by this time). She had never tried anything anal before and she seemed to quite enjoy it. She even had an occasional orgasm while getting her butt fucked. I’d fucked bums before so already knew that I would enjoy it. At some point during the activity I usually look down and think, “Holy doodoo Batman, I’m fucking this girls ass. Wow!”

We were already exploring my cross-dressing, but hadn’t yet discovered my inner sissy when the subject of me being on the receiving end of anal play came up. I can’t say for certain who brought up the subject, but I do recall she didn’t hold the toy at first. No, the first time I was penetrated was a few hours after we bought this.

On the way home from the toy store, we decided it would be best to have sex before playing around with the harness. She was concerned about figuring out how to get it on in the heat of the moment and I was worried I’d come to quick and not really get a chance to enjoy it. So we had a quickie when we got home. Not a record breaking quickie (that stands at 7 minutes for both of us to orgasm), but we were darn quick.

Once we’d caught our breath we started to play with the harness. It wasn’t as complicated as we’d thought it would be and a few minutes later, ♀ was a chick with a dick. She seemed to think it was cool. I remember her looking at herself in the mirror and swinging her hips, wagging her new found cock. I started getting excited again and even though it had only been about 15 minutes, we decided to try it out. Our choice of position for my first time was on my back, pillow under my hips and legs wrapped around her waist. She used her finger to get me lubed then added a second digit and I was ready to go. I can remember shaking with excitement as she pressed the head of her cock against my asshole and the short, sharp shock when she first entered me. She offered to stop and I said NO!

After that initial pop she slid inside easily until I could feel her thighs pressed tight against my ass. She squeezed some lube into my hand then slowly started to fuck me while I stroked myself. I had never felt such pleasure. I did manage to tell her when to speed up and it didn’t take long until I was screaming, “Fuck me! Fuck my ass hard!” I came with such intensity that two streams of my ejaculate hit the headboard behind me. I had never felt anything as intense before.

I know that playing with my bum has never been ♀ favorite thing, but in the beginning she seemed to take Dan Savages GGG advice to heart. Probably once every couple of weeks, one of us would get some anal action. We discovered that I could wear the harness and fuck her with two cocks (more about that in a later post). We bought vibrating anal beads and a butt plug. Unfortunately the base is a little small so if we want to use it for any length of time we need to use the harness to hold it in place.

Things have changed since then. Anal play continues to be a regular part of our trash talk, but in reality…not so much. at all. At first I thought it might have something to do with her first husband. He announced he was gay when they’re baby was six weeks old. I remember fucking her with a dildo then proudly showing her how I could take the whole thing down my throat (I’d been practicing so I could give her head before she fucked me). Maybe seeing me wearing a frilly nightie sucking on a big silicone cock made her think, “OMG I’ve turned another one.” She says no, but on some level…maybe. I thought maybe it was a poop issue and suggested that with a little preplanning we could deal with that. She said that she never knew ahead of time when she’d want to have her bum played with or want to play with mine. No,  it needed to be spontaneous.

So, I waited and nothing happened. Occasionally I would ask for it and I noticed that she changed as soon as she put the harness on or got close to my ass with a toy. She became distant, she zoned-out, she wasn’t there with me. Even her kisses were different and she couldn’t look me in the eye. There are a couple of positions that we both enjoy with vaginal sex that would work just as well with her wearing a strap-on and she’s passionate and connected, but as soon as that harness goes on she goes off. The final straw came over a year ago. She put on the harness, laid on her back and said “just climb on and do what you need to do.” Those words and that look on her face sent a chill through me. It reminded me of my ex’s attitude about. sex.  I’ve never felt as sexually connected to anyone as I do with my wife and I never ever want to be reminded of the bitch when I’m with ♀. So I told her that my need for anal stimulation was no longer her concern. There were a few tears, but she’s never tried to start anything.

She’s only asked for her butt to be fucked 2 or 3 times in the past year. I don’t know if that’s because she really doesn’t miss it or if she feels guilty about not returning the favour. Maybe it’s about me being resentful and not initiating it.  ♀ and I usually communicate very well so I don’t think she’s hiding anything from me. I really don’t think she knows what it is. As I said before, it’s a regular part of our trash talk, so it’s not like it’s completely forgotten.

I don’t mean to sound like this is a deal breaker for us because it’s not. We have a grrrreat sex life. It just makes me a little sad that we can’t share this. We tell each other when we’ve masturbated. She knows that anal play is often part of my solo activities, but it’s never talked about.

About a week ago, it stopped raining here and the sun came out. ♀ & I went for a walk. It was nice to be out walking, talking, holding hands . Simple pleasures that we’d missed after four months of rain. We talked about this and that and at some point during the walk the topic of interesting blogs I had read recently came up. I told her that I’d read several posts that talked about the preparation for anal sex part of what makes it special. The purchasing of an enema kit or douche, finding the time to use it and get cleaned up, maybe wearing a plug for a while can all be part of the preamble. The preparations are like an extended foreplay and not being spontaneous, needing to preplan it makes it different then other types of sexual contact.

She seemed to understand the logic in that. There were no tears or hurt feelings or resentment. It was just part of a conversation during a lovely walk in the sunshine. I actually hadn’t given it much thought after that until yesterday. I was looking in the bathroom cabinet for muscle relaxants (my back has been killing me) and there on the shelf were two enema kits that I’m certain weren’t there a week ago.

One for each of us?

cheers,

sss

I moved in with ♀ & her son just before he turned 13 and I’m sure it wasn’t easy for him. He’d had his mom all to himself up until then. Even though his dad is a deadbeat and a jerk, I’ve never tried to be his ‘dad’. I’ve just tried to be a positive male influence and let the relationship unfold on it’s own. We get along OK. He has said that if he ever got into serious trouble, he’d call me before he’d call his mom. I make her happy and don’t get in his face too much. It works out. At our wedding, I was giving a toast and I thanked him for not smothering me with a pillow, the best man piped up and said, “he didn’t realize it was an option.”

13-18 are tough years and there have been challenges, but we all muddled through. The other kid is ten, so just as one is finishing the other one will be starting. I was reminded last night of an early challenge. It was shortly after I’d moved in with them. Junior had gone out and wasn’t due back home until 8pm. He got home early and we didn’t hear him come in because we were having loud sweaty sex and the bedroom door was open. He tried making lots of noise, but when that didn’t work he went for a walk around the block. When he came in the second time, ♀ & I congratulated ourselves on having such good timing and went on with our evening. After a couple of days of a really bad attitude, I asked him who had pissed in his corn flakes (I’m so tactful) and he told me he’d come home and heard things no kid should have to hear. I told him that we do try to be considerate, but he’d come home early and besides would he rather hear me beating the hell out of her and making her cry.

We’ve managed, but his path through adolescence has been so much different then mine that’s it’s sometimes hard to relate. I was scrawny and awkward and struggled at school and was decidedly unpopular and most people thought I was gay and I could never figure out why that was, but guys hit on me all the time and girls only ever wanted to be my friend and the only sex I ever seemed to get was sympathy fucks and Junior is big and handsome and popular and gets good grades with minimal effort and girls throw themselves at him and if he tries to ignore them it only seems to make them want him more and it ’s really hard to know what he has to be miserable about, but I guess being a teenager is hard no matter what the circumstances.

He usually has at least two girls on the go at any given time, but they all look the same to me; tiny little brunettes. They must all have different personalities (most don’t talk to me so who knows), but they all look like they came from the same cookie cutter. One that has been over quite a bit the last while is even quieter then most, she barely even talks to ♀. But holy-snapping-arseholes-Margaret is she ever loud in the bedroom. I’ve heard her a couple of times, but ♀ had never had that pleasure until they woke her up a couple of nights ago. She made lots of noise going to the bathroom then took the dog outside to go pee and she could still hear this girl from out in the yard. We live in a townhouse complex so if he’s still banging her in the summer when everyone has windows open, our neighbours are in for a treat.

Anyway, last night during dinner ♀ mentioned to Junior that his latest girly friend is kinda loud. He looked her straight in the eye and said, “she couldn’t be any louder then you are Mom.” It was one of the few times I’ve ever seen her blush.

So we retreated to our bedroom for the duration of the evening. We both put on sexy nighties. Hers is in the above pic and I was wearing a pretty white one. She did my make-up for a treat, I did her feet and nails and tried out a new (to me) braid. It’s like a narrow headband that goes along her scalp down each side of her face. When I got down below her ears, I took the two thin braids and the left over hair in the middle and braided them together all the way down. It looks really cool, but I don’t think I could show it without showing you her face so you’ll just have to take my word for it.

I was going to shave her pussy, but it was getting late and she had to work in the morning. However, we did have time for a nice long love making session and I came twice. Can you believe it? Twice! I may be a long, long way from 18, but it’s nice to know I can still reload and fire.

And in case you were wondering, Junior and his girly friend were at home and ♀ was extra loud.

HHNT,

sss

ps: Welcome Savage Lovers!
comments are always appreciated

It’s been an exciting week. Besides the mention by Dan Savage, I also received the following email from the Story Mill. Yeah I know I’m bragging, but what the hell…

I just finished reading your “Inner Lesbian” story. It’s very sophisticated. It plays around with all kinds of rich and exciting feelings. And it’s not wooden, it’s not stamped out of sheet metal.

I’d love to see you write a story for my site. I’ve got over a thousand pictures in there to select from. The thing for you to do is read my Authors’ Guidelines. It says on my site that I’ve suspended publishing, but don’t worry about that. For a good story I could pay something. Not sure how much, but some.

Log in and look around. By the way I appreciate the link from your blog.

One more thing: have you seen http://xtratalk.com/ ? Take a look. It’s Jane Vargas PHD.  I could get pictures from her if that would help you write a story for me.

Sincerely,

PK

As I’ve mentioned before, I braid ♀ hair every night. I braid bread at work so have no trouble with the basic 3 strand variety, but that gets a little boring after awhile. So we took a braiding class. Well actually I took the class. She was my ‘long haired model’.

 

The two night class was attended by moms and young daughters, but the instructor said she’d had other male students before.

 

This is an ‘Inverted French Braid’.

HHNT

ps…i made it on to Savage Love. How cool is that?!

In Search of the Inner Lesbian

We met playing online backgammon and four hours later my white cotton panties were balled up on the floor, my feet were on the desk and I was having a colossal orgasm. I need to tell you right now that I am not that type of girl, or rather, was not that type of girl. I didn’t start having sex until I was almost twenty, I’d only managed to have the occasional small orgasm by masturbating and I didn’t really see what the big deal was.

That was before Paul. For the next two weeks my days revolved around emails, chatting online for hours and of course cybersex. But it wasn’t just the sex. He asked me questions and listened to what I had to say. He was interested in my opinions and ideas and he was able to express how he felt about more things than any man I’d ever met. He also gave the most incredible virtual massages. He’d start at my feet and by the time he got to my butt, I’d be soaked. I’d usually cum before he even got to my neck.

During one particularly hot session, I just had to hear his voice and I gave him my phone number. If I thought cyber sex was hot then phone sex was scorching. Paul’s voice was directly connected to my pussy. He could be telling me about the weather and I’d be wet. For the next month we talked each other into countless orgasms. It was a safe yet exciting way to explore a huge range of fantasies. I was very inexperienced and he seemed so knowledgeable that I was quite content to let him take the lead. Paul would introduce the fantasy and I’d try to jump in and play my part. He was good at being able to judge what was working for me and what wasn’t. Though in the safety of my apartment, there wasn’t much that didn’t get me going.

One topic that came up on a regular basis was girl on girl action. He had this theory that all women have an inner lesbian, sometimes they just need the right person to help discover her. It always made me a bit uncomfortable, but whenever we introduced another girl into our fantasy, he’d just explode. I decided it was just a harmless guy thing and didn’t really mind playing along.

I was the one who had to talk him into meeting in person. He said he was worried I would be disappointed, but I was getting cauliflower ears and I was missing real dates. I was madly in lust and I didn’t want it to be with just a voice. So we met. And two hours thirty-seven minutes later we were in bed. I’ve heard that sexual attraction is all about pheromones. It doesn’t matter how well you’ve connected in other ways, if the chemistry isn’t right, forget it. I guess we were just lucky because his H2 was made for my O.

And O-O-O-O-O fuck was the sex good. Beyond anything either of us imagined it could be. In the beginning I don’t know how either of us managed to keep our jobs, or friends or even find time to eat. One way we squeezed extra sex time into our day was to continue using the phone and pc for erotic play. Sometimes one or the other or both of us would have orgasms, but mostly we just used it as foreplay; a little heavy breathing or a slutty email or some hot chat to get us through the day.

Another advantage of our virtual sex life was that we had a wealth of well-developed fantasies at our disposal. At first it was only trash talk while we made love. He’d talk like the teacher to my little schoolgirl, or the cop and me the speeding driver trying to beat the ticket, or the bad daughter needing to be punished, or the hooker and the john. The choices were endless, but I was always the submissive. It wasn’t something we had ever discussed, that’s just where our comfort zone was and I truly enjoyed being his sex slave.

One day Paul came home from work and I was wearing a little plaid skirt with knee high stockings and black loafers, a white shirt that was two sizes to small and my hair was in pigtails. He went absolutely crazy and our sex life had an entirely new dimension to explore. We would create ‘scenes’ that would usually involve costumes and some sort of preamble before we got to the sex. Like I would get home an hour after I said I would and be wearing my schoolgirl outfit and we’d have a big fight before he fucked me into submission. Or I’d get dressed all slutty and go to a bar. I’d flirt with guys, get them to buy me drinks and do some dirty dancing. He’d watch all this from a booth then make sure they saw him giving me money then taking me out to the car to have sex in the parking lot.

One fantasy that I hoped would always stay just that was the whole other woman, inner lesbian thing. He knew I was uncomfortable with it and he seemed to be content with just having it as part of our trash talk. That was until he found out his cousin Lisa was coming to town for her holidays. He’d told me about her before; a buyer for a high end clothing store, over achiever, gave him his first blow job, likes girls more then boys. The thought of the three of us together drove him to distraction and he insisted that I put every effort into making it happen. That was our first really big fight, but at the time I couldn’t say no to him.

We arranged to have dinner at the hotel she was staying at, he was driving in and I walked over from the office where I was temping. I knew who she was as soon as I saw her. They both have the same long straight nose, straight blond hair, pale blue eyes and flawless skin, but Lisa is seriously built. Now I understand where the expression “built like a brick shithouse” comes from. I was hooked from the moment our eyes met and she knew it. She introduced herself and I wanted to hold onto her soft cool hand forever. She kissed my cheek and I vowed never to wash it off. Her scent and her voice were intoxicating and by the time Paul arrived for dinner I was completely under her spell. I wanted her like I’ve never wanted anyone else. I was gushing above and below the table and I was sure the entire restaurant could smell my sex. Somehow I managed to get through dinner and we all went up to her room. Paul must have thought his greatest fantasy was about to come true, but after we’d had a drink she kissed him and told him she doesn’t do boy cousins anymore and sent him on his way. It must have been devastating to him to get so close then have the rug pulled out from him, but at the time I was barely aware that he’d left.

“I’ve never been with a woman before” I told her.

“I know. We don’t have to do anything…”

“It’s not like that at all” I stammered, “I want to do everything, I just don’t know if I’ll know how.”

She smiled, took my face in her hands and kissed me. My legs turned to rubber and I sank to the bed. She stood in front of me and slowly started to strip. She undid her blouse and the powder blue semi cup of her bra barely covered her nipples. Would they be a pale pink like Paul’s? She undid her skirt and it fell to the floor. She stepped out of it towards me, turned around and bent down to pick up her clothes. The thong of her panties a thin blue line through the centre of her perfect peach shaped ass. She stayed bent over for a moment and I caressed her, leaned in close and inhaled her musky scent. She walked over to the chair and carefully laid her folded clothes over the arm, took off her high heels and walked slowly back. She’s so perfect, I thought, even her stay up stockings stay up. Somehow the rest of our clothes melted away and my inner lesbian was discovered.

We didn’t leave the hotel for the next two weeks and when she asked me to move to Toronto with her I didn’t even say goodbye to Paul. I just took my clothes and a few cd’s and left. It was not one of my best decisions. It had been springtime in Vancouver, but it was most definitely still winter in Toronto. Lisa’s job involved long hours and lots of travel. I wasn’t working and didn’t know anyone else so I had far too much time on my hands. We tried phone sex when she was travelling and she liked me talking her into an orgasm, but she really couldn’t get the hang of talking trash to me. When she was home and we made love she only wanted to do the things she knew she liked and didn’t want to try new things even if it was just to give me pleasure. Once we were settled into a domestic routine I realized that sex did not have the same importance to her as it had to Paul and I.

Eventually out of boredom and frustration I found myself visiting the chat rooms, trolling for cybersex. It wasn’t a big surprise when Paul and I crossed paths again. We were both using different names, but I knew it was him almost right away. We both kept up the charade until we’d finished. He told me how much he missed me and then he asked me to marry him. I was bored and lonely and flattered and horny and most of my friends were married and now I know that these were all really lame reasons to get married, but it all made sense at the time. Six weeks later, with Lisa as my bridesmaid and a dozen friends looking on we tied the knot.

I discovered during my time with Lisa that I sometimes like taking the lead and being the dominate partner during sex, but it never seemed to work when I’d try it with Paul. He was willing enough to give up control; it’s just that the roles we had were so entrenched that we’d both end up feeling foolish. Then one day I told him to put on my panties, he did and Roxanne was conceived. Not that she had a name or personality or was anything at that point, just that if he was wearing a piece of women’s clothing, he was able to act submissive. It was a novelty at first. If one of us wanted to reverse our normal roles, he’d put on panties or stockings and we could do it. One day I came home from work and he was totally decked out in my clothes. He’d stuffed a bra and had on matching panties, garter and stockings, my clingy little black dress and heels. After the initial shock, I had to admit that he looked pretty hot. He’d obviously been practicing the walk and the wiggle. He even had a low sultry voice that he used when he introduced ‘Roxanne’.

After that we started buying clothes, lingerie and other accessories just for her. She still wore mine of course (she liked the smell of my sex) but it was nice for her to have some of her own. Our toy collection also grew and one of our favourite additions was a harness for a strap-on dildo. Not only did this satisfy Roxanne’s very horny ass, it was fun having a cock. I should also mention that soon after buying it we discovered Paul could wear it and fuck me with two cocks, satisfying even more fantasies.

Roxanne didn’t replace Paul; rather she became another partner. Sometimes just a voice mail from her, or an email for her, or reference to her while Paul and I made love. Usually she was the submissive partner in our old tried and true fantasies, but she also provided a way for both of us to express very different desires and I was almost always the one to initiate these. I gave the first golden shower and the first really hard spanking, though the nipple clamps and handcuffs went on me first. I’ve always enjoyed sex during my period, I get so horny and Paul’s cock feels so different. I introduced using it for play when I forced Roxanne to go down on me during a particularly heavy flow. The next month Paul scrawled “SLUT” across my chest in menstrual blood then fucked me hard and fast until I was screaming like a woman possessed. It was one of the rare times that I was able to orgasm with just intercourse.

Up until this point, Roxanne was confined to our home. Some of our fantasies involved her being out and about, but Paul made it clear that’s as far as he wanted to go with it. I admit that I was responsible for Roxanne coming out when she did, but maybe it would have happened anyway. For his birthday, I sent him an e-card telling him he had to go to a certain address to get his present at 1pm and that I’d pick him up there at 6pm. The place I had sent him was a salon that specializes in transformations. I bought fake breasts that attached to his chest and were claimed to be so realistic he could go swimming with them. I also bought all new clothes and lingerie designed specifically for cross-dressers, a long blonde wig and new three inch heels. Enricho would spend the next five hours shaving, waxing, fitting, doing make-up and nails (toes and fingers) and completely transforming my husband Paul into my girlfriend Roxanne.

When I picked her up Enricho was giving her some pointers on how to act more feminine and she was doing a fine job of it. She looked beautiful and classy and I caught myself thinking that I could look that good if I’d had someone give me a five-hour makeover.

The big surprise of the night was our dinner companion. Roxanne didn’t know Lisa was going to be there and Lisa didn’t know anything about Roxanne. I had this perfect evening planned in my head. Lisa would be totally impressed and cool with the whole thing and Paul would finally have the fantasy of having sex with his cousin and I fulfilled. Things did not go according to plan. They looked like sisters and Lisa freaked. She thought we were making fun of her and after making a huge scene in the restaurant she marched out. In an attempt to salvage the evening (I had after all spent a bundle on the make over) we went to another restaurant for dinner then to a club and danced the night away.

That night changed everything. There was more and more Roxanne and less and less Paul. Eventually she decided she was going to be a fulltime she-male and got breast implants and hair extensions. She assured me she wasn’t going to get gender reassignment surgery so anytime I needed a cock, Paul could visit. She really wanted to stay married and couldn’t understand why I had a problem with that. She had absolutely no desire to have sex with men, her orientation wasn’t changing only her outward appearance and since I had been instrumental in that change and I’d lived with a woman who looked very similar why the hell was I being so stubborn now?

She sent me a letter before I got the divorce papers and explained it was just a formality. She was going to have her name legally changed to Roxanne and was just tying up all Paul’s loose ends. She said that she was still loved me and hoped that we could still be friends. She’d started dating again and encouraged me to do the same. She made a little joke about both of us finding our inner lesbian. She sounded happy.

I wrote this several years ago as a gift to an on-line lover…

My mind is a busy, noisy place. There’s always a debate, conversation, problem, fantasy, music or just plain noise going on in there. Sometimes I would love to be able to turn it off and just enjoy the moment.

The thought that has been buzzing around in there all week is a plan to see you in an unguarded moment without you knowing it. I’ve decided to pose as a deliveryman and bring you a bouquet of valentine’s flowers. I’ve found a REAL florist and she’s put together a beautiful and unique bouquet and you’ve never seen a recent photo of me so I’ve convinced myself that I can get away with this. What I haven’t figured on is you not being home…I’ve been waiting at your door for 10 minutes and my little mind is racing with…and then you open the door. You’ve obviously just come out of the shower; hair’s still wet, no make-up, sweat pants and t-shirt.

“Good morning, delivery for…”
“Wow, those are beautiful. Who are they from?”
“Umm, there’s a card attat…”
“Come in I’ll get you a tip.”
“Oh that’s OK really.”
“Nonsense, I’ll just go get my purse.”

You’ve left the room and my mind is very full. This is sooo wrong. I have no right to be here. It’s an invasion, a violation. You’re going to find out and you’ll never speak to me again. I should just sneak out with my tail between my legs and…You’re back.

You walk up to me and hold out a bill, I take hold of it, but you don’t let go. You just stare into my face. My mind is spinning and I can’t read you at all. Should I confess and beg for forgiveness? Should I try to bluff my way out? Do you know it’s me? Why don’t you speak?
Then you let go of the bill, turn around and start walking slowly away.
You pull your shirt off as you get to the door, but don’t turn around.
It feels like I am floating not walking behind you. As you get to your bedroom you slide the sweat pants off and stand naked beside the bed still with your back to me. I get undressed, step behind you, touch your shoulders, you turn around, our eyes meet and I SEE IT! Recognition! Connection! I feel like a little kid who’s finally understood a difficult concept. You smile at me as understanding spreads across my face. Funny, lights are flashing in my mind, but the noise has stopped. You see it too and now I can read you, but it’s nothing like I’d imagined. I thought I would hear your voice in my head, but I don’t. I “feel” you and it’s the most amazing sensation that I’ve ever had.
We move on to the bed and for the first time in my life I really am “making love” with someone. My mind is free and quiet of everything but our shared emotions. I am totally unconcerned about what goes where and why. Our bodies just….”are”.

I am giving you oral pleasures when you cum for the first time and I “feel” it. Not in the absolute foolish way you sometimes hear a male doctor describe the pain of childbirth, but I do feel something more then you squeezing the hell out of my head with your thighs. It’s so beautiful.

Later, we both cum at the same time and the sensation is so intense that we’re both in tears as our combined orgasm subsides.

Later still, a long, loud pussy fart leaves us both with a case of uncontrollable giggles.
For hours we have this conversation without talking and I realize that nothing in my life will ever be the same. It’s as if everything I have ever thought or felt or done has been in a fog and now that fog has been lifted.

 

Days from now I’ll realize that I am addicted to you in the best sense of the word. Whenever we are apart I start to worry and then when I look in your eyes again, I see it and my mind gets quiet and peaceful and I am complete…

—————————————————————————————————

I’ve spent the past several days trying to decide what if anything I should do with that little story. I wanted to have a valentines post and thought that I could just post it as is. Then I thought maybe I should update it a bit. It’s not the best thing I’ve ever written, but I still like the beginning of it. It’s a sweet little story in a love sick sort of way.

Instead I think I’ll try and find something deeper. K and I met on-line about a year before I moved out of the matrimonial home*. Things were pretty much done and we were just going through the motions for the sake of the child.

For a variety of reasons I had become very isolated; I didn’t seem to have any of my own friends, they were all hers. I was estranged from most of my relatives and my partner really didn’t want much to do with me after the baby was born and even then didn’t allow me much time to bond with him.

Anyway, I had become somewhat of a cyberslut. There was no intimacy at home and masturbating with someone on-line was often more enjoyable then by myself. I met K playing backgammon and her situation at home was very similar to mine; just playing out the string towards the inevitable end. Though at the time we both thought…thought things could be salvaged? No, at best we were both planning how we could continue to fake it. At least until the kids were older. We were both desperately unhappy and as the saying goes, ‘misery loves company’. With my shift work and the difference time zones we were able to spend a great deal of time together on-line.

A very intense emotional bond formed really quickly. At the time I thought it was something unique…the speed and intensity, but have since learned it’s a common occurrence with on-line relationships. We chatted every day for months about life, love, the universe and I know it’s a chiche, but there was a real connection there. We knew each others moods (I could even tell her PMS days) and deepest secrets (though I never told her about my cross-dressing…funny that).

We rarely had cyber sex, but she loved to hear my voice. I’d buy overseas phone cards and we’d talk for hours. She was the reason I started to write erotica. I’d read her something I’d written (like the valentines story) and that would usually lead to phone sex (she was very vocal), so I was highly motivated to write. ♀ has threatened to use the same tact with me now; no sex until I write something sexy. But unless I could write something sexy every single day….sometimes twice a day she would never be able to hold out.

K and I made plans. We’d get together for one weekend a year like the movie Same Time Next Year, we’d take our kids and meet at Disneyland, we’d meet in Paris for her 40th birthday, we’d…well you get the idea. What we shared was helpful for both of us. We needed a friend; someone who thought we were special. Valued. Loved? Yes, I think so.

She started having an affair. I knew the weekend it started, but it was several weeks before she admitted it was going on. She told me later that she felt as unfaithful to me as to her husband. The affair was a disaster. He treated her like crap and she’d convinced herself that’s what she deserved. I started dating and every date seemed even more hideous then the last one. We spent a lot of time chatting about how maybe faking it with our partners was better then what we were doing.

But time marches on. She bought her hubby’s share of the house, was single for a while and then met R. I gave the X my share of the house, was single for a while then met ♀. We talk on the phone occasionally (I haven’t chatted on-line with anyone in years), we’re both happier now then either of us ever thought possible. It’s comfortable when we talk, not awkward like it probably would be after an in person affair. I think it helps that we’re both in healthy relationships with partners that aren’t threatened by our past. ♀ likes talking to her, she loves her accent. One night ♀ called there 3 times just to listen to the answering machine. Well yes, she’d been drinking, but it was still cute. She wants to go visit. I think that would be great fun.

*any reference to marriage in regard to the mother of my son is just for convenience. we lived together for 10 years, but never married.

Cheers,

sss

Slip of a Girl and Cyber Space Babe both tagged me and I just cannot ignore requests from beautiful women.

So here’s my list of 10 Oddball Random Things About Me:

1) I really am a cross-dressing sissy.

2) I really am straight.

3) I can’t pee in front of anybody. Not even ♀. If I need to use a public washroom, I have to wait for a stall.

4) Whenever anybody comments on my painted toe nails I tell them it keeps my wife amused, but I feel naked if they’re not painted.

5) I’ve been paying for the dental plan at work for 19 years, but have only been going to the dentist every six months for the past 5 years.

6) I once sent my grandfather flowers. He panicked and flushed my uncles bag of weed down the toilet.

7) I asked the kids to help me with this list and they both laughed and said ‘what isn’t odd about you?’ and really, they don’t know the half of it.

8)  I don’t get the whole ‘pet’ thing, but I admire wild animals. Zoos make me sad.

9) I always vote and have never voted for a winning candidate.

10) I am mechanically inept.

holy doodle…i made it onto fleshbot

 

HHNT

Apology #1) This is the same photo I used for my 4 day stint at 25 peeps.

Apology #2) I download interesting (to me) pics. Hundreds of them. I have no idea where they came from. When I started this blog, we didn’t have a digital camera. So I would write a post then add a picture I thought was a good fit. I knew this was technically wrong, but I didn’t think very many people would be reading me, so I didn’t think it was such a bad thing. If I’ve infringed on your copyright, I am sorry. It won’t happen again. From now on I’ll be posting pics from our camera or giving credit where credit is due.

Apology #3) During the past few days several excellent post have been written about the challenges of being a safely anonymous sex blogger and at the same time keeping it ‘real’. If you haven’t read them yet, I strongly recommend these posts and the very insightful comments. Pretty Dumb Things Always Aroused Girl Eros-Logos One topic that didn’t really come up is the blogger who also likes to write fiction. Until now, I just assumed that people reading this blog would know that I’m a 40something male and that any other points of view are fantasy or fiction. I’m sorry if you’ve ever felt tricked or mislead by something I’ve written. But having said that, there’s probably no greater compliment to a fiction writer then to hear someone say that they really believed I was someone/something else. I’ll try and be more obvious from now on.

Cheers,

sss

 

Rare Moss Goes Without Sex For 130 Years

For more then 130 years, the rare Nowell’s moss found on old limestone walls in northwest England has not been known to fruit and the plant has been listed as an endangered species. –The Vancouver Sun, Associated Press, Jan8/03

…but scientists from the University of Wollongong in New South Wales, Australia have recently discovered tiny brown flowers on a small patch of Nowell’s moss in the Yorkshire Dales near the town of Bishops Itchingfoot. This is an important find, not only from a biodiversity point of view, but may also play a part in saving the deteriorating limestone walls that have been part of the landscape for centuries. These walls were built long before King Arthur’s Roundtable without the benefit of mortar, put together like jigsaw puzzles criss-crossing the English countryside. The once abundant moss filled the cracks between the stones holding them in place. The decline in the moss and subsequent deterioration of the walls coincides with the discovery that livestock need sodium. In the mid 1800’s farmers started putting salt blocks in their fields and the sheep stopped licking the naturally salty moss. Dr. Ichabob Bobb, lead researcher from U of W, explains that his team now believes that this wall-licking is how the moss was pollinated.

“The pollen would be picked up by the sheep’s warm wet tongues and moved down the walls as the sheep grazed. We had considered reintroducing a small number of sheep to moss-licking, but 130 years is a very long time to go without sex and most of the female moss appear to be sterile. A mite has developed that eats the female sex organs and unfortunately all attempts to kill the mites have changed the taste of the moss, leaving it unappealing for even the most salt-deprived sheep.”

Even though the new flowering was a fluke, it is still encouraging and Dr. Bobb and his team are continuing to work on reestablishing Nowell’s moss.

Happy HNT

Please be gentle. It’s my first time.