That Fixed Things!

Just_a_tender_hug____by_Ottokees[1]That certainly worked to get me out of my funk. It didn’t take much. Seeing you for a short time on the weekend. Getting to hug you even if it was platonic and watching your big brown eyes look up at me. I felt the electricity run through you. My heart was racing, too. And discreetly tugging your pony-tailed hair. No one saw. That was our secret.

That’s all it took. Now I’m back to my usual self. Craving. Things are good.





lethargy-2[1]I have no ambition this week. No inclination to do anything. No incentives. Not even any inkling for womanizing. That really means something’s not right!

I am listless. Is it because of the months of personal turmoil? Or the weeks of restless sleeplessness? In the end, I guess it doesn’t matter does it?.


Girl Talk

It was like a girls night out. Except the boys tagged along. Three couples sitting around the pool on a warm evening. Marcie and I were on a winter break and had booked a week at a Mexican beach resort. During the evening meal of our second day there we had started to chum around with two other couples around our age.

After dinner we adjourned to a patio near the pool for drinks and conversation. For some reason the three women sat beside each other in patio chairs, while the men were together opposite. As the cheap Mexican red wine flowed, the inhibitions began disappearing like a rapidly outgoing Caribbean  tide.

The women were all extremely attractive. There was the tall Chicago blonde with below shoulder length Farah curls and the 38Ds. Then there was Virgina beauty, short with long raven hair complementing her cute button nose, tight little ass, and 34Cs. The men didn’t really have much to say. We were more interested in listening, I guess. Wine induced, the girls’ conversation became very sexual, very quickly.

It wasn’t long before Marcie got into describing the evening we arrived. How a few Mexican beers had led to a walk on the beach as darkness was setting in. How in the blackness of the night, the softness of the zephyr off the sea, and the effects of the beer we felt totally alone. How I sat on the solitary beach chair, beer can in hand facing the sea, and how Marcie knelt and took my cock deep in her mouth. How she slurped noisily  How after several minutes of that she grabbed my hand and I pushed her to the sand on all fours and took her roughly from behind. How as I pulled her hair and she grunted while climaxing a group of people could be heard strolling nearby. How we couldn’t have cared less.

Chicago eyed me with a sly smile. Virginia Brunette’s eyes opened wider. I was on the hot seat and I could feel my face flushing a bit. Good thing it was early evening and the light wasn’t so good.

There was more wine and more girl talk. Lots more. And it started to get dirtier. Chicago blonde explained how in order for her husband to get fucked at all, he had to perform cunnilingus just right on her, and for the length of time and number of orgasms she felt appropriate that night. She made it quite clear who was the boss, and who gave the sexual directions

I flashed her my “that’s not how it would be with me Hottie” look with my deep blue eyes. And she nodded back in agreement. I looked over at her husband and even in the dimming light I could see him silently slouching lower in his chair.

Virginia Brunette, not to be out done, filled everyone in on how she took care of her husband. Apparently she had a coterie of 4 or 5 men. Periodically one would be invited to their house in the Washington suburbs for the evening, for dinner and drinks with her and her husband. Which would be followed by raunchy sex with Virginia Brunette. In the bedroom with the lights on. While husband stood in the bedroom doorway to watch and listen. At the appropriate command, he would be allowed to undress. And should she feel generous, she would give him permission to stroke himself while he watched his beloved wife in the throes of outrageously noisy sex with the visitor. Then after her upteenth orgasm, if she was feeling really generous, she would go to the doorway and finish him off with a hand job.

I had always wondered what those Beltway civil servants did with their free evening time.

Marcie was loving it. The other men, not so much. Marcie had this laugh, that became raunchier the drunker she became. She was very drunk now, and the laugh was an outright cackle. Given the spirit of the conversation, and fearing the worst from her mouth, I suggested it was time for us to call it an evening. I wasn’t really interested in having my personal modesty tested any more than it had been. But she wasn’t interested in leaving.

“You know Marty has just the best cock I have ever had” she blurted out. My heart sank.

“It is such a good length, and nice and wide. And oh, does he know how to use it on me!”

“Marcie! Enough!” I could feel my whole you don’t-really-know-me, I’m-so-respectable world becoming a distant memory if I didn’t get her to quit soon. But I feared she was just getting started.

“But what is really amazing about Marty is how incredibly hard he gets! Like hot, hot rock! Yes, that’s it, hard as rock.  With super big and hard veins. I have never had a cock in all my parts that is so hard!’

Chicago Blonde raised an eyebrow in my direction. “Really, Marty?” she purred. I knew I was squirming noticeably even in this light. Could they see my sweaty brow? I’m pretty private, and the discomfort I was beginning to experience was, for me, stomach turning.

Virginia Brunette eagerly slid forward in her chair. “How often do you get to Washington, Marty?”

Damn this was embarrassing. Normally I would love the attention these two beautiful women were directing my way. But not like this! It wasn’t me doing the selling. I wasn’t in control at all. And I couldn’t handle it.

“Marcie, we’re leaving now!” I commanded

“I’m going to finish my drink. And my story!” she retorted

Uh-oh. This was not good. Though usually very compliant, Marcie had a stubborn streak at times, and I didn’t want to test it. I wasn’t going to win if I did. That was certain.

“Well I’m going back to the room,” I huffed. It was a gamble on my part. I was certain Marcie was terribly horny, but she was also enjoying her girl time. But I couldn’t handle the spotlight, I knew that for sure. At worst, I figured she’d be along in 2-3 minutes.

I was right, of course, it was under 3 minutes when she joined me in the room. I have no idea what else she confided in the group. And I didn’t ask. But she got one helluva spanking that night.


The Dilemma

ISV-Dilemma-resized-600[1]I’m really attentive and good at understanding the written word.  If I do say so myself, I’m a pretty accomplished “read between the lines”  kind of man, too. Then just as important, there are the times you need to comprehend what wasn’t said. The dilemma I always have, is figuring out when each is more appropriate. Because they usually don’t go together.

But Why Would You Lie?

2471696451_81c9547574_o[1]It hurt me when I realized you now only think of me in shades of dark. How did that happen?

You always hated that I wouldn’t let you get away with your notorious double standard. I remember that time you lashed out, and told me I reminded you of your first. You knew that would sting.

I think you really expected I would play nice after that. Change completely for you. Did you really think my logical mind would ever leave the building just because you wished it to? At your convenience?

You liked to chide me because of my logic and analytics. Leave that all behind you lectured. But I can be guided by emotions and intuition, too. So much better than you acknowledge. And I let your emotion and intuition win out in October. Despite the pain it caused us. I never questioned the torrent of tears you shed. I was a rock of support.

Yes, you like your men weak. For a while.The ones you play with. Revel in the control. But the keepers are strong and question you. They don’t let you have your way all the time, like the spoiled girl you feel you ought to be.  They don’t let you always be right. You often just get  lazy with your choice in men. Perhaps it’s because you have had to overcome so much, you tend to reject any more struggle. Until you become bored.

You were never bored with me were you.

But why would you lie? You’ve never really done that before. When I obviously know the truth and my memory unflappable. Did the shock-hurt-regret suddenly overcome your innate ability to coyly fib,  twist and lead away from the truth? You immediately shut down. That only happens when you are extremely upset. And there is no call for that now. We’re way past that point.

A Weekend at the Cottage

dockOne summer I was still with Marcie, I rented a small cottage on a pristine, quiet lake. It was a hot, dry summer, and the weekends were most memorable.

Right at this moment, one Saturday night of a particular weekend springs to mind. We had driven out from the city on Friday night, and both of us were tired and cranky from the traffic-filled drive, which was on top of a miserable week at the office. That night there was time and inclination for only a drink or two, some dinner, and a blow job and quick fucking.

After some lovely morning sex we spent the rest of the morning in town doing errands and some shopping. Then early afternoon was some pleasant sunbathing on the dock accompanied by the requisite sampling of international brews. Marcie was an expert on hops and yeast varieties used in European beers and ales, and was always sampling several. And then we talked of our upcoming evening barbecue with the neighbors next door. The neighbors were providing the steaks, while we provisioned the wines and imported beers.

The evening next door went well. The steaks were well marbled, juicy and perfectly grilled. The conversation sometimes sparkled.  Marcie was well into her 7th or 8th libation  and I could tell she was getting into that state. We were sitting comfortably in painted Adirondack chairs. As the host and hostess attended to something in the kitchen, I lightly rubbed Marcie’s wrist on the chair arm beside mine. She turned her head and smiled.

“You will be totally dominated tonight my Love” I whispered. “We’ll leave shortly”.

Call it wishful thinking if you want, but I was certain I could feel her pulse quicken as she looked into my eyes and sweetly sighed.

Not too long later we bid our hosts good evening and walked the short bit to our cottage. Straight upstairs to the master bedroom, with Marcie shedding clothing as she wobbily ascended the stairs, until she was completely naked at the bedroom door.

“In front of the mirror … kneel!”  I ordered. As Marcie dropped to her knees I went and turned on the bedside light so I could watch her. She was kneeling on a small carpet (placed there for just that purpose) in front of a full length mirror on the wall. Marcie knew  I wanted her reflection sideways in the mirror. I came back and stood in front of her. Looking up into my eyes, she slowly undid my belt and pulled down my khaki shorts and underwear and began to take me deep into her mouth. She slurped with vigor. I watched her work from both directions … from above, and a side view through the mirror. I find a blowjob is always more erotic when felt, listened to, and viewed from multiple angles.

After about 5 minutes, though the alcohol had probably blunted my need to cum,  I could feel an orgasm approaching. But I had other plans.   I quickly grabbed her by her shoulder length tawny hair and guided her to kneel beside the bed, face on the duvet. Then I pulled out her favorite pair of cuffs from the drawer of the bedside stand and shackled her hands behind her.

“Get up on the bed”, I sternly said.

“Yes, Marty”, she eagerly replied and pulled herself onto her side.

I climbed in beside her and kissed her first gently, then with more passion. I knew her cunt was dripping wet by this time, so there was no need and no inclination for foreplay. I began fucking her hard. She arched with each of my thrusts with her arms pinned behind her. She came once, twice, and then a third time, grunting more fiercely with each new orgasm.

As I felt myself again nearing completion I quickly pulled out of her pussy.  I moved up on Marcie’s face and stuck my cock into her waiting mouth.

“Taste it … taste me … taste us” I blurted.  Then as the pressure became unsustainable for me, I grabbed her hair tightly with one hand, and my cock with the other.  I pumped my cock once, then again and splurted hard all across her face and hair. I pumped some more and a second and third stream cascaded on to her face.

As I lay there panting and Marcie licked and sucked me clean, I knew sleep was not far away. I crawled back down and held her as she softly whimpered.

“Good girl” I whispered. “That was oh so very intense!”

We both fell asleep immediately, Marcie still cuffed and dripping with my semen.  Sometime later (a few hours?) I did wake up and removed Marcie’s cuffs. But the white crusts of ownership would stay until our morning shower.



All Good

Despite our inability to physically meet up lately, we have been getting closer and closer. I find myself not only highly attracted, but I’m becoming very attached. Every day I learn more about you. I’m understanding what you like, what you want, and  where you need to be pushed. Push you I shall.

I like that I can tell you always get what you want. I like even better that you want me. And what I will do. And what we can be. All good.

I like your style.

Let’s Leave It Alone

“Can you call?” the text read.

I had prepared myself for this, and had firmly made up my mind. No, I couldn’t. I would not. But as is usual with you, when you catch me unaware, I’m putty. So yes, I did call.

You said you needed to explain what you meant. Actually no, you didn’t. That was just a feeble excuse. But you want that connection still to be there. You need it. You are beginning to see that. And you wanted to confide.

I guess I opened the door gently with my text earlier in the week, didn’t I? It was time and I needed to tell you.

I have to admit, it was very nice to hear your voice. It’s been a while. I know it made you happy to hear mine, too. Probably even more than you expected. I imagined your smile when you heard me. As you made me laugh.

You have so many layers. Not levels. Layers. They twist, turn, dive, and soar across that wild psyche of yours.  That’s how I fell in love, dealing with the fun, frustration, and fury of those layers. Your mental tectonic plates that rise and dip and cause continental shifts in your attitude and actions. But in a heartbeat, not an eon. Even you admit I know you better than almost anyone. I studied hard.

That’s why we disagree. You don’t know we do, but we do. You think you have permanently changed. Or at least you are trying to believe you have.  And have me assume it, as well. But I know better. I know you. I understand you. I used to get sucked in by your earnest words. Because when you speak them, you actually do believe them. Mostly. Not totally.

But time will tell, won’t it? Who knows you better in the longer term? But let’s leave it alone for now.