A Sexual State of Mind
Rough edges tend to get worn smooth when you tumble through rapidly moving waters....
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A Fiery Night
Posted:Mar 15, 2018 10:05 pm
Last Updated:Mar 16, 2018 5:20 am

I was in a group discussion with some people today and the subject came up of the most embarassing moment we had experienced in a nightclub. As it happens, I spent a considerable amount of time in various clubs when I was very young so I have a couple of less than stellar evenings permanently burned into my memory banks. Both involve too much alcohol and overconfidence. of them was embarrassing but relatively harmless. The other... well... embarrassing and not quite as harmless.

My first really embarrasing moment in a club came when I was dancing in a club with a live band. I thought I was quite the dancer when I had enough to drink and that particular night I had a lot to drink. The stage for the band in this particular dive was just below knee high. The dance floor was crowded with people and I was having a really good time. I somehow managed to shimmy backwards without realizing I was up against the stage. Falling onto the stage with the band was probably bad enough, knocking the microphone stand down that the lead singer was trying to utilize was a little worse. I can still hear that horrible screeching noise of feedback that the mike made as it bounced too close to the pickup speaker. No real damage to anything but my pride but I have friend who still loves to remind me of that night whenever I see him.

Being an overachiever, I managed to surpass that moment in sublime inebriated stupidity some time later in a disco. Yes... I actually went to disco's when they were popular. Not the Saturday Night Live kind of disco with actual good dancers; but the Friday night wild kind of disco where I thought I might pick up an attractive girl but never seemed to manage. Usually, I would tire quickly of the disco and find a smaller, seedier place where live bands would but that particular night I met a girl sitting at the bar who was quite interesting and cute. She also seemed to like talking to me so I wasn't going anywhere until I found out how far things would go. We danced a few times and were generally just getting to know each other and having a good time. It wasn't really my kind of place but I was beginning to change my mind.

She was quite pretty with long blonde hair and a very well developed body. She had on a heavy, fluffy, beige knit sweater that was form fitting. The sweater was doing an excellent job of accentuating her sizable chest. Not of that would have mattered to tell the truth, she was doing one thing that really kept my attention. She was talking to me like she was interested in me and that was enough to keep me from leaving without her other attributes although they certainly didn't hurt.

Just when things were starting to seem promising she got a cigarette out to light. I smoked at the time as well (I think everybody did in those days). Feeling very suave and confident I decided to light her cigarette for her. It was a good idea I guess but in retrospect it would have been better if I had a lighter. Instead, I had a book of matches, the old cheap cardboard wrapped matches made of thin cardboard and a sulfur head. I had a schoolboy trick of unfolding the cover, pulling the match head down around the bottom of the pack and flicking it across the strike plate on the back of the book of matches. Slick, suave, and sophisticated it was when it worked. I have to admit here that I had practiced this move for just such occasions although seldom got to use it. I could retrieve the book of matches from my shirt pocket and flip the cover back; capture a match to bend with my thumb and strike it lickety split. One hand. Cool. It had to impress. At least that's what I thought.

When she got her cigarette out I reached for my matchbook. Slick as a magician I had the cover peeled back and a match on the striker plate in impressive time. She smiled at me and leaned toward me a little just as I let that matchead fly across the striker plate with a flick of my thumb. I'm not sure whether the matchbook was just poorly made or my excitement to show out was to blame but as I flicked the matchhead across the striker plate I got the expected flaring match light noise and I smiled a little inside at how good this little practiced move was working.

I was still smiling and staring into her eyes when that match head came loose from the stem holding it in the pack and began its slow motion arc through the air; flaring brightly just as it came loose. Everything seemed to go in slow motion from that point on. The decapitated match head arcing gracefully through the air to land gracefully on the top of her right breast. Unfortunately, fluffy, knit sweaters aren't designed for flaring match head collisions. The match wasn't there for long but I swear I could see the ignition sequence quite clearly. A black tiny hole, followed by a sizeable flame on the loose threads.

My confident smile was now a stupid moronic thing but it was still locked on my face as the horror of what I was seeing froze me for just a second. Recovering my senses just as she started to try to yell, I grabbed my beer and thought for just an instant of throwing it on her. "This is clearly not a good idea" is what my brain said, so I did something even worse. I poored some beer on my hand and used it to slosh it on the now flaming sweater. I'm not sure there is a good way to handle that situation but sloshing beer on a woman's breast in a disco probably isn't even on the top ten list best ways to handle that situation

Luckily, the bartender was thinking clearly and used his wet bar towel to smother the flames completely. I maintain he had a natural advantage on me in the quick thinking department because he had not just set a girl on fire that he was trying to impress. At any rate, my impressive match trick was forever removed from my list of suave things to do in an instant. I offered to pay for the sweater when she came out of the bathroom she had run into while still smoldering.

By that point I think she was more interested in putting as much distance between herself and the arsonist who had set her on fire as she could possibly manage. She waved me off and left with two of her friends; both of who were staring at me with daggers in their eyes.

I'm still not sure how many people actually saw what happened and I am equally sure that none of them remember it with the same clarity that I do. My dad used to say that mixing alcohol with stupidity can be pretty explosive. I can attest to the fact that it can at least be flammable if a sweater is involved.
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The Dinner....
Posted:Mar 13, 2018 8:56 pm
Last Updated:Mar 15, 2018 8:47 pm

You wake up to a soft rain beating down on the windows and reflexively reach for me, groaning your dissapointment that I have left for work early. You remember me kissing you and stroking the outside of your thigh, whispering in your ear how much I always hate to leave our bed and curse softly for not waking up and taking full advantage of the last few moments before I leave. As you reach across the bed and slide your face into my pillow to smell the proof of my presence you feel a piece of paper brush your cheek. You open your eyes, happy to have a note from me as you try to focus your still sleepy eyes on the paper.

"Dinner at Fazio's; wear the little black dress that I can hardly ever wait to get you out of. You are in for extended lovemaking tonight...."

You smile to yourself, knowing what that little black dress always does to me and feel the warmth begin to spread, from the sensual thoughts in your brain; down into the flowing life in your veins.

I call you around nine, to tell you how much I look forward to tonight. I explain that I want you to think about what is going to occur later; when I get you to myself. I tell you that I am tight at the seam with just the thought of you and how much I want to ravage you completely later on. I tell you to meet me at the restaurant and to bring your patience, because it will be tested tonight.

As you are getting ready for dinner later, you find another note taped to the dress:

"I hope you are wet with the thought of me, your mind fully engaged in the ravenous hunger I feel for you."

You feel the a warm glow between your legs at the thought of me putting the note there, planning to stoke your fires at least a day ahead. As you dress you think of pleasuring yourself just once before you meet me but you know I would want you to wait. Your skin is crying out for my lips and teeth as you check one last time in the mirror, seeing the flush of excitement in full bloom on your face, you eyes smiling at the thought of what is coming.

When you arrive at the restaurant I am waiting in the parking lot, leaned against my car and smiling broadly. As I open your door and help you out I lean close and pull your chin up slightly to kiss you full and hard, my tongue finding yours as my hand holds your face lightly my other arm pulling you hard against me. You can feel the hardness of my hunger against your belly as my hand finds the full roundness of your derriere and pulls your harder against me. I kiss you deep and hard and then slide down to press my lips and teeth against the sensitive nerve endings on the side of your neck; a low growling noise in my throat.

"I am so hungry for you," I say soft and low and press harder against your neck with my lips and teeth. You feel yourself trembling with desire; all the pent up thoughts of the day rushing down and out against my body pressed so tightly against you. Suddenly I pull back from you and you see the desire burning in my eyes, my mouth curling into a full grin,

"You look good enough to eat," I say; grinning widely now as both hands wrap around you and squeeze you tightly in a full embrace. "I will have to save that for later," I whisper in your ear, my lips caressing the excited nerves around your ear, my teeth closing tightly on your ear lobe in a mock bite.

As we walk inside I pull you tight against my side, my fingers slowly teasing their way up the silky softness of your dress to just below your arm as I talk to the hostess at the door. As we follow her to our table you feel my lips on the back of your neck as I whisper, "this is a gorgeous view back here." As I pull slide into the booth we have waiting you see the grin again and notice the little laugh lines around my eyes in full force.

After they take our drink order, you feel my hand upon your exposed knee, lighly slipping my fingertips under to trace a soft pattern on the inside of your knee, trailing slowly upwards as I tell you how much I have been looking forward to this. You can see the hunger on my face, my eyes twinkling with the promise of raw sex and deep pleasure.

I lean over and kiss you softly on the lips, my searching fingers dancing up your inner thigh under the table, the heavy tablecloth screening my actions from others in the restaurant. We are in a small booth with others just across and behind as I whisper to you that I want you to take off your panties and give them to me. You look around to see how close others are, but you feel the wetness increase between your legs at the thought and you know you will follow my lead.

As you carefully maneuver them down, I whisper very close to you, "I am going to make you cum right here, right in the middle of this restaurant I am going to bring you off with my fingers and you are going to be very still and very quiet." You shake your head a little but the warm wetness suddenly flowing faster belies your protests as you glance around again, knowing you want me to do exactly what I just promised.

As you hand me the panties a moment later you realize you are already very aroused, close to the edge as you feel the smooth leather of the booth against your bare skin. I am facing you now, slightly turned in the small booth, my eyes locked upon yours as you feel my fingertips trailing lightly up your inner thighs, pausing to stroke you there; knowing the nerve endings are wildly awake and hungry for my touch. I kiss you softly then, lightly holding your face as my fingertips find the soft, wet opening between your legs. I gently and slowly pull you open, two of my fingers spreading your outer lips before my middle finger slides softly to caress and draw more wetness out, the tip of my thumb applying the silky smooth juices of your sex around the nub of your hard desire, circling it slowly; teasing you with the promise of more direct pressure when you are ready.

You feel your hips move against me and low, soft moan escapes your lips despite yourself. The wet warmth of you flows even more as you feel me ever so slightly push the tip of my finger deeper up so that the squeezing muscle there reacts even stronger. "Ask me." I say. "Ask me if you can cum yet," I whisper softly my lips forming the words as my eyes search yours for proof of your pleasure. You are suddenly closer than you thought as my fingers coax even more wetness from your depths and my thumb very lightly makes smaller circles around the hard nub of your desire.

You forget the restaurant, you forget the leather seat below your bare skin. All you can see is the hunger and desire in my eyes as you feel the first waves of pleasure begin to hit. "Please..." you mumble breathlessly, "Please..." as my thumb and fingers increase their rhythm and pressure you feel your eyes close tightly and your lips open wide. You feel the earth open slowly below as you slide off of the cliff of exquisite sensation, a slow motion avalanche of incredible orgasm shuddering out of you like a thousand stars imploding at once. You aren't sure if you are yelling and you open your eyes after to make sure you aren't but all you see is my wide smile and the eyes seeking you inside of your pleasure.

I kiss you softly again, "You're so beautiful when you lose it," I say, whispering against your still heated skin. "Just wait til I get you back home."
Posted:Mar 11, 2018 7:49 am
Last Updated:Mar 13, 2018 8:57 pm

I've had a couple of people ask me what it is that I am seeking on this site. It's a simple question. I should be able to answer it simply. Unfortunately, that doesn't seem to be true.

I originally thought I would join this site because the people are probably more realistic. I tired quickly of the vanilla dating sites where everyone was seeking their soulmates. I don't necessarily think that is a bad idea but when you get to be close to my age and you think your perfect soulmate is going to magicaly appear on a dating site full of people fresh from unsuccessful relationships perhaps you should examine your motivations instead of blaming the lack of good candidates.

There are people on here seeking sex, companionship, and all manner of explicit results. That seems more honest to me. If their brass ring is a little tarnished at least they know what it looks like. It isn't a mythical creature of their own making. I see nothing wrong with relationships for sex, based upon sex. As long as both (or all) people involved are getting what they want and avoiding deception as much as possible; more power to them. I've had a couple of relationships based strictly on sex in that we set the rules beforehand so that no one's expectations were trampled and they worked pretty well; at least for a while.

I even thought that's what I wanted on here when I joined. Then.... I started to read profiles, blogs, and stories on here and I began to occur to me that there are probably people on here that think more like I do than the people on other dating sites. People with high sex drives AND emotional honesty and acceptance. I know you are out there, I have read your blogs.

What if I were to meet someone with the same kind of sex drive I have and a similar understanding of what makes a relationship work. The brass ring in my head began to take form. It isn't a polished brass ring, but one well worn and well used. It has been forged by a full life of love, loss, and an eye for the beauty in a sudden storm. I can see the sparkle in an old broken bottle when the sun hits it just right and I can feel the promise in a cold winter wind. I don't want perfection or flawless physical perfection, I want an honest knowing glance; a willing heart, emotional courage and tenacity, and intellectual curiosity.

One of my favorite quotes is from Alice in Wonderland.

"How long is forever?" Alice asked.

"Sometimes, just one second," said the Rabbit.

I've had those seconds. I want a life filled with as many of them as possible. That's what I'm seeking.
Self Awareness
Posted:Mar 10, 2018 9:27 am
Last Updated:Mar 10, 2018 9:29 am

It occurred to me recently that there is a pretty easy test for self awareness and the accuracy of our perception of ourselves.

1) Join any of the vanilla dating sites and post a photo and a true self description
2) Look at profiles through the site
3) Wait a couple of weeks for results
4) Closely compare the likes and interests that your profile gets with the likes and interests you choose

If there is a vast difference in these two results; you are either not very self aware or the world just doesn't get who you are.

Either one seems to suggest that you either live in the wrong area or aren't very self aware.

I'm thinking I need to move......
Posted:Mar 8, 2018 3:32 pm
Last Updated:Mar 10, 2018 11:47 am

Multiple orgasms seem to be pretty rare everywhere except in this particular group. Meelp must be the world leader in that category from what I can tell from reading profiles and blogs in here. Every woman has them and almost all of the men are capable of producing them in any partner. We are well outside the norm in that category from what I know about the subject.

Over my lifetime I have been with only women who could experience multiple orgasms in the same session. of them could be coaxed into it over a very long fore session followed by a very long sexual laison. Each of these could experience 2 orgasms in session if it went on long enough and was completely uninterrupted by outside influences. In other words, it was still a rare thing to happen but it could and did happen on occasion while I was with them.

The other women that I have experienced this with could have more than . How many they could have seemed to be an open question that we never really answered. It was all dependent on circumstance. The length and intensity of the fore, the amount of mental stimulation (open sharing) of thoughts and fantasy , and... the amount of relaxation and comfort they felt with me and the situation as a whole.

I have a somewhat selfish reason for being so interested in this subject. From an early age, it has been my most constant working fantasy. Being sexually curious from a very early age I found the orgasm to be both mysterious and intoxicating at the same time. Able to produce my own orgasms at a high rate through masturbation I wondered if women could possibly do the same thing. I read enough on the subject to understand that most people don't have multiple orgasms. There is , followed by rest, followed by possibly more. The fact that I could produce several for myself seemed quite natural to me even though I soon realized it was not the norm.

By the time I was old enough and mature enough to attract a partner for sex it was kind of fixation of mine. The sexual act itself was quite wonderful and pleasurable but the ability to produce an orgasm in a partner was kind of the holy grail for me. Knowing that it was possible and understanding the biology associated with it didn't me learn how to produce in a partner. Before I actually had sex with a partner I was confident that I could produce such a reaction and I felt like having it as a goal would serve me well in reproducing the opportunity. Unfortunately, I simply didn't count on the mental aspects of what the approach of an orgasm in my partner would do to me during sex.

I stumbled upon this proof almost immediately. My first sex partner was the girl I married shortly afterwards. She was a year older and vastly more experienced (she had lover before me). Our first actual sexual connection was in the front seat of a 1977 Cutlass in a cotton field by the Flynt River. For all my research and reading, I wasn't exactly clear on how her parts worked. Angle of penetration, pressure needed, lubrication needed, all were complete mysteries to me. For all her experience, putting the condom on was a trial as well. My natural shape worked against us. I am thicker behind the head than at the head so condoms tend to roll over the head and get stuck so that it takes a lot of work to get it to continue. I have figured out how to deal with it since, but she wanted to put it on the first time so it was quite an ordeal involving a lot of squeezing and trying to get the damned thing to expand and roll on.

Looking back, it was amazing we even managed to achieve intercourse in the confines of the car. She was ready and willing but not exactly soaking wet, so achieving penetration when I didn't know the angle needed was quite an ordeal and took a considerable length of time. She kept saying I needed to push harder but that didn't seem to as the thickest part of me was fairly well wedged in her opening and we couldn't seem to get past that point. I figured out to push a little and then retreat which seemed to with the lubrication aspect and finally began to slide slowly inside of her.

Once that happened she seemed to get very wet very quickly so that everything freed up very nicely. We were kissing deeply and I was anxiously waiting for signs that she was approaching an orgasm. Moans, breath that catches, forceful pushes against me were all happening but I simply couldn't tell if she was ready to climax or not. I was not prepared for how good she felt when she pushed back against me and kissed my so hungrily and I soon realized I needed to slow down and wait for her. About the time I realized this and started trying to slow, she sped up her movements and moaned even louder. That was pretty much all it took for me to explode violently and instantly, arching against her and crying out in pleasure.

Then... I realized she hadn't quit moving and was obviously not finished. That was enough to get me started again and I started pushing back against her.

"Did you do it," she asked as she suddenly pulled away?

"Yes, but I can do it again," I told her.

"NO..... we need to clean up before I get pregnant," she said as she pushed against me.

It took quite a few tries after that before I was able to her achieve an orgasm. I soon found that after I had cum a couple of times the sensitivity would drop enough so that I could hold off until she came but it was quite a struggle. My trigger for orgasm being her orgasm was kind of cruel irony in some ways. Every time I would think she was close I would instantly be washed over the edge, frustrating us both. I could keep going but she was insistent that a condom full of semen was not going to be inside of her for long.

Eventually, we were able to make it work. She had speed, rhythm, and position that worked for her. If I was very still and let her find it, she would achieve an orgasm fairly quickly but she really didn't have much interest in trying any other way. Hstly, it took quite a while and quite a bit of practice before I could control myself well enough to please my partners regularly. Knowing they were approaching an orgasm excited me so much that I simply couldn't hold back without stopping and waiting a little. Trust me, that isn't an ideal solution in most cases.

Many later, I stumbled upon a solution for this problem. I was reading a book on eastern mysticism when the subject of pain came up. The author suggested that to control pain cannot avoid pain but must rather advance to pain and take it on directly. This wasn't a completely new thought to me as I had more or less learned the process on my own, even if I couldn't have articulated it to any else. It was an interesting thought process and I stored it away for future exploration.

night it suddenly occurred to me that I might be able to do the same thing with an orgasm. Instead of resisting the pleasure and fighting it off, maybe I should go towards it and control it by forcing myself to do it when the pleasure increased towards that point. I tried it soon afterward with a lover who was quite active and open. When I felt her pleasure increasing and triggering my own release I mentally tried to force it to happen right then. I experienced a deep but abbreviated orgasm with little or no decrease in pleasure afterwards. Before that diovery I had been able to keep going after an orgasm but the pleasurable sensation was muted quite a bit. This was different. By forcing myself to climax I seemed to be able to continue immediately afterwards with no decrease in sensation. It was magical. Each succeeding orgasm was more powerful and more prolonged and I eventually learned to have a full release at any time in that process.

Sometimes ejaculation accompanies these orgasms and sometimes it does not. As I have gotten older I had found that it does not as often but there is little difference in how it feels to me. It's probably no accident that soon after diovering this process is when I met the first woman I had known who could climax over and over. My newfound ability to do this over and over without pause probably led directly to finding a woman who could as well.

When we met and began seeing each other I sensed she was quite nervous about sex. She was recently divorced and had a bad divorce with much arguing and confrontation. She was obviously quite sensual but seemed also embarrassed or put off about it at the same time. I couldn't figure her out and decided that nothing would likely ever happen along those lines. The time we were al for long and started really kissing and exploring each other she seemed to panic right in the middle of it and insisted that she needed to get home. I told her that would be fine as she was obviously getting pretty upset and worked up at the same time.

A few night later she ed to tell me she would like to come by a little later. I told her I would love to see her but was still a little spooked about how the previous time had went. She went out with some friends and then ed around 9 or so. I could tell by her voice that she had been drinking and asked her if she was ok to drive. She insisted that she was and said she would see me in a little while. I was taking it easy that night and had been laying on the couch reading a book, so I went back to reading it.

She surprised me by showing up just a few minutes later, lighly knocking on the back door. I let her in before I even thought about what I was wearing. I had on some old sweat pants and a tee shirt, not exactly dressed for entertaining some I was just starting to get to know. She breezed right by me and then asked for a glass of water when we got to the kitchen. She followed me back into the living room and sat close to me on the couch, her eyes watching me carefully.

She told me that she liked me but didn't want to fall in love with any at the moment. This was pretty direct and open so I just listened as she explained that she was still having custody issues and would let nothing interfere with that. I told her that I would never do anything to interefere with her kids or her custody issues and this seemed to calm her down quite a bit. Before long we were kissing deeply and pressed tightly against each other. She was surprisingly aggressive and breathing heavily in just a few minutes. As I leaned back on the couch and pulled her with me she quickly mounted me and began grinding against me slow and hard with a quick and steady rhythm. Her breath was irregular and shallow and she was making little whimpering noises in her throat as she ground tightly against me in a steady, quick rhythm. Her kisses were deep and hard as she began pushing her hips against me harder and it wasn't long before she seemed to have a massive orgasm, jerking her hips against me and ing out as her eyes closed and her head tilted back.

She kissed me slow and easy as her breathing returned to normal before saying, "let's go to bed."

After quite a long time and quite a few loud shuddering orgasms she was resting quietly against me as she lay on top of me. She asked me how I did that, how I could explode and then keep going. She said she had never been with a man who could do that and it occurred to me that I couldn't either a few months before.

I have wondered since that time, how many women could do that but never had the opportunity. If you don't know its possible you probably don't think it is. She told me later that she had never met a man who really appreciated her ability to achieve multiple orgasms because they usually weren't interested after the first anyway. She said up until me, she assumed it was a talent without much purpose and that it probably scared more men than it attracted.

That was 17 ago and I have only met one woman since who is similarly able to achieve multiple orgasms. I wonder how many women there are who can do that and what it is that makes it possible for them. Any thoughts?
One Night Stands
Posted:Mar 7, 2018 8:01 pm
Last Updated:Mar 8, 2018 3:57 pm

I've noticed a decided difference in attitudes about this subject in here. For the most part, outside of couples wanting to find another partner, there seem to be very few women who want one.

I can well understand the reasons. Lack of respect, lack of caring, lack of pretty much everything having to do with intimacy. I guess my issue is that it does seem to happen a lot. I have had several in my life and have had several more relationships with started with sex on the first night we met.

I guess my question is how you define a one night stand. Is it definitively someone you hook up with and never see again? Or.... is it someone who you sleep with on the first night you meet and may or may not see again? I am interested in what others think as I am not real sure how most people define the term. It gets used a lot and people seem to assume everyone understands exactly what it means but I must confess that I don't. The more I have thought about it, the more certain I am that it isn't a term that everyone understands the same way.

Posted:Mar 4, 2018 8:40 pm
Last Updated:Mar 18, 2018 1:55 pm

p= M X V

Is it really that simple? Mass times Velocity is momentum. I was wondering this afternoon if this is true emotionally as well. The mass of your thoughts times the velocity with which they are moving equals the net effect on your life.

Or maybe, and here is the real train derailment, perhaps it is the mass of thought times the velocity of thought we are unaware of that causes the real mayhem. In other words, it isn't so much the relative mass of the emotion as much at is the lack of awareness that it is on a collision course heading the other direction.

I have always been fascinated with the concept of a koan in Zen. A koan is basically such a surprising thought process that is knocks your thought process out of the rut of every day life to create enlightenment. "The sound of one hand clapping" is often given as an example. Tiny unexpected moments in life that can change emotional momentum are rare and they can be relatively hard to actually notice.

They do occur however. I had one that started my weekend. I had not one; but two checks given to me by a business partner to bounce on consecutive days. The checks were deposited a week apart but bounced on consecutive days. The week of false security is what got me in a mild panic when I was forced to readjust to the fact that I have less money to cover expenses than I had counted on.

During the process I was checking on an order I had placed online for materials to finish another job that I am now needing to finish earlier than planned, I discovered that Amazon had held up the order because my bank had put a hold on my card because of a suspicious charge for Meelp's membership. When I discovered this the same morning as the second check bouncing, I was in a rush to get the order placed and confirmed.

A quick check of recent orders on Amazon Prime on the account I temporarily share with an ex-lover pulled up an order for 2 dildos and a strap on belt. After my thought process stated to function again I wondered how often this kind of koan is experienced by others. I had several instant and unexpected thoughts in response to this stimulus. I soon settled on "getting fucked can come in a lot of different packages."

I would be happy to hear from anyone with a similarly hilarious random change of momentum.
Morning Sex
Posted:Mar 3, 2018 7:58 am
Last Updated:Mar 3, 2018 8:00 am

Darkness is just beginning to lose its hold on the morning, slowly receding in the face of the sun slowly rising. You are still resting easy, your body pressed against me in warm comfort as I ever so softly kiss, nibble, and lick the back of your neck. As your mind begins to drift back toward conscious thought you moan softly to let me know you are enjoying my affection, pressing your ass back against me slowly as my finger tips lightly trace their way up your outer thighs meandering upward.

As your mind begins to focus you can feel proof of my desire pressed under the natural curve of your butt; warm, full, and throbbing with every beat of my heart. You slowly arch your back to let me know you are aware of my hard cock pressed against you and pull my searching fingertips up to the hardening bud of one of your breasts, moaning your approval as I slowly circle your nipple with my fingertip.

My lips and tongue work their way down your neck to that spot where you like to be lightly bitten and you feel my teeth scrape lightly over your skin. You respond by pulling my head down harder against you acknowledging that you want to feel me be rougher and I acquiesce by biting you firmly and pushing my hard cock slowly back and forth under your rounded ass. You can feel the precum on your inner thigh and you wonder how long I have been awake needing your touch, the wetness slowly building inside your treasured pussy with each soft stroke.

As you fully awaken you reach underneath to pull the thick hardness between your luscious legs, spreading them slightly to get my cock where you want it as I bite down harder on the nape of your neck. You moan louder and arch your back more anxious to feel the thick pulsing muscle of my cock nuzzle your suddenly very wet opening. I roll you over onto your belly and slowly slide downward with my mouth and tongue leaving a long wet trail down the small of your back. I grab your hands forcefully and pull them softly back as you arch your back even more, your pussy now aching to feel my mouth upon it.

I kiss and nibble on the full rounded cheeks of your ass and hold your hands behind you as I work my way down to where you want my mouth and tongue to work their magic on you. You moan louder now, whimpering a little with impatience until you feel my tongue find the space between your outer lips and slowly caress the hard nub of your clit my mouth hungrily closing on your delicious little pussy. I am moaning my approval now of the tasty wetness of your desire my tongue slowly circling the hard nub of pleasure as I drink in your essence. You can feel my nose pressed tightly between the cheeks of your ass as I push against you to capture your clit between my lips, my tongue constantly circling and caressing.

Before long I have it tightly captured in my lips as my tongue begins to lavish you more intently and you feel yourself beginning to approach the edge of an orgasm. You moan loudly and try to pull your hands back, mumbling that you want my cock inside you. I give in then, and you feel me crouch behind you, the thick engorged head of my cock poised against the open wetness of your hungry opening. I linger there for a moment, enjoying the warm wetness caressing my softly pressing hard cock but then I can linger no more and I begin to slowly force my way inside. You feel yourself stretch open to accomodate the flaring thickness and you moan loudly, both of us transfixed by the sheer pleasure of the moment.

Before long the hunger overcomes us and we press even harder against each other, forcing the pulsing thickness of me deeper inside you. As your silky wetness begins to coat my hard cock I slide deeper with each small thrust against your upturned ass.

"Show me," I say. "Show me how much you like my cock inside of you." As I pull your hand down between your legs anxious to have you cum against me. Your fingertips find your aching clit and you moan deep and hard as you feel my fingers wrap themselves in your hair and lightly pull your head back.

"Show me how hard you can cum," I say, thrusting harder against your upturned rounded ass. As you feel yourself going over the edge I push you down flat on the bed and lightly bite your upper shoulder and neck pushing more forcefully inside you, filling you with my cock and mouthing my pleasure at our coupling.

Because..... all work and no play is no way to be.....
Amazing site
Posted:Feb 28, 2018 4:10 am
Last Updated:Feb 28, 2018 6:13 pm

Amazingly enough, I seem to have attracted a considerable number of beautiful 20 something girls from China, Hong Kong, and Alaska who are ready to move in and be taken care of by me. Evidently, older men with no pictures posted are quite in demand on this site.

Unfortunately, they don't seem to have read my profile or my blog so I am not sure how I am attracting them to someone 30 years older to begin with. My animal magnetism must be quite powerful in the Meelp world. Now if I can just figure out how to harness it long enough to find someone who actually has something of an interest in meeting people or knowing something about them BEFORE committing their undying love and devotion to them........
Early Stirrings.....
Posted:Feb 27, 2018 6:32 pm
Last Updated:Mar 18, 2018 1:55 pm

Names will be changed throughout this trip down memory lane. I don't know if it will protect the innocent but it will be preferrable to possibly embarassing the unsuspecting.

By the time I was fourteen years old I was pretty much sexually overwhelmed. I was insatiably curious about everything to do with sex. I wanted to know everything about how it works, how it doesn't work, and how to be good at it. I read everything I could find. I listened intently to every discussion where it came up and I thought about it constantly. Early on, I understood that creating pleasurable feelings for myself was simply a matter of putting my mind in the proper place and applying the right rhythm and touch. In other words, it was easy for me to reach an orgasm. I could do so by simply thinking the right thoughts for the most part; very little physical manipulation was required.

As I discussed in an earlier blog post about a conversation I had with an older, more experienced girl named Brenda. I knew a lot about sex from what I had read and studied. I knew a lot about masturbation and my own mental triggers from experimentation. What I didn't know much about was how to physically please a woman as I had almost zero experience in that area. It wasn't from lack of interest, I just was an ungainly and not especially attractive kid. Skinny, shy introverts were not exactly in demand at that age. Girls just don't typically choose to fall for that type of kid and I was no exception. It didn't cause me a lot of pain or suffering because I knew I wasn't considered a catch and understood why. None of that helped me solve the riddle of how to get better at something I had no experience doing.

I had read about how to please a woman. I was convinced that I could learn how to do it because I wanted to do so. However, previous to my conversations with on the school bus I had never actually had the opportunity to do so. She was a lifesaver for me. An attractive, smart, sexually curious girl who was interested in the thoughts inside my mind. She was clearly outside of my league in the social pecking order which is all important in High School but when we were engaged in our sexual discussions in that little 3 foot square world of a bus seat, we were suddenly equals. Two kids fascinated and hungry to know more about these powerful urges that ruled our world.

Although we never actually consummated intercourse we both spent quite a few hours thinking about it and stroking the mental and physical pleasure centers when we were alone with just that in mind. I had her every way a man can have a woman in my mind and from her whispered confessions on the bus she did the same to me. I once had a discussion with a lover about having a by for someone outside of our relationship. It was kind of a whimsical conversation as she asked for a by to have Bob Seger should the opportunity arise. I readily assented to that request. When she asked me who I would choose to have a by for, I instantly spouted out Brenda, the girl on the bus. My lover knew the bare bones of the story but something flickered in her eyes when I said her name and I recognized she wasn't too keen on the idea of letting me have a night with Brenda. I don't know for certain, but I suspected she was afraid I might never come back if I did.

Brenda made me feel ok with my sexuality. I had always hoped that there were actually females with the same fascination and hunger for sex but she was living proof that there was. She moved away at some point before I was old enough to make it realistic for us to be together but she put triggers in place in my psyche that are still there. Public sexual interaction, daylong foreplay from whispered promises to written detailed descriptions that stoke the fires slowly and thoroughly, and role playing fantasies from subtle hinted at desires all have their root source in my interactions with Brenda. I am forever grateful to her and have often thought of trying to look her up to explain how much our interactions meant to me but I am a little afraid that she might not remember them in the same way. Perhaps my well exercised imagination has given our interactions a glow that didn't exist for her.

She made me believe that my sexual nature was a bonus, a good thing instead of a burden that I would forever be saddled with. She also gave me some confidence that hadn't existed before. The confidence was in the fact that my imagination, my fevered sexual desires could be something that would enhance a relationship given the right partner. She also gave me confidence in my physical prowess in a way that I never knew existed. Both were invaluable to my development as a person. It was the kind of encouragement that drives people to achieve more than they thought possible. More than that, it colored my perceptions about sex itself and set triggers in place that still work for me today. Her fascination with my size, her desire to know what I was thinking about during sex, her hunger to make things last as long as possible are all sexual triggers that work instantaneously to this day.

One would think that with such a start a man would find a partner on a similar path with similar expectations about the joys of sex and live happily ever after. As I was to soon learn, sexual desire can come from locations and thought processes that have no relationship to each other and still be strong. In order to understand the differences, one has to learn how to communicate well enough to know they are differences. Unfortunately, that is easier said than done; especially where sex is concerned.
A Little Background
Posted:Feb 27, 2018 1:37 am
Last Updated:Mar 18, 2018 1:55 pm

I grew up in a small town in North Alabama. My parents were middle class in that even though my dad had a good job there were so many of us kids that we were never on easy street. It wasn’t as if we truly suffered as there were always three meals on the table and we lived in a good area of town but there were never a lot of extras around either. I have an older brother and three younger sisters who are spread across quite a long time period. My older brother is 13 years older than my youngest sister.

Both of my parents were the only child in their immediate family. I guess they both wanted brothers and sisters so they made sure we each had plenty of them around. My mother was a Southern Baptist and my father was basically an agnostic. He didn’t make a big deal out of his religious views but he didn’t go to church either. My mother took us to church and Sunday school on Sunday mornings while dad got to rest and have the house free from children; at least that’s the way I imagined it in his mind.

At a very early age I displayed a noticeable independence of thought. It didn’t hurt that my dad encouraged independent thinking as he always told me to think for myself and not follow the crowd. “Do what you think is right all the time and you won’t go far from right,” he used to say. I still try to follow this rule. By the age of five I was in trouble at Sunday school for asking too many questions. It wasn’t so much the questions they minded as it was the refusal to accept answers that didn’t make sense to me.

My point of departure from church orthodoxy was specific. We were discussing the Ten Commandments in Sunday school one morning when it occurred to me that they didn’t exactly align with the world I saw around me. I can well remember the thought process that got me in trouble with the Sunday school teacher. We were discussing “thou shalt not kill” and it suddenly dawned on me that the kill numbers posted on the news every night concerning actions in Viet Nam must be sinful. If god truly meant “thou shalt not kill,” what must he think about effectively bragging about it on the news every night?

It seemed to contradict the commandment. Surely there were exceptions to the rule or else as a nation we were sinning. Not only sinning but glorifying our sin as well. I asked the teacher about whether killing the enemy in war is a sin or not. He gave an answer that was less than clear when he said there were obviously exceptions and pointed out that god had commanded his children to kill their enemies at different points in the Bible. Rather than easing my confusion this put my mind into a still higher state of confusion.

“What are the exceptions?” I asked.

He explained that they were complicated and depended on circumstances that I wouldn’t be able to understand.

“Why not?” I asked.

The teacher explained that there are a lot of things in the world that I wasn’t capable of understanding yet and this was just one of them. I might have accepted this explanation but then he added that it was all up to god ultimately.

“Where are the exceptions written down?” I asked. It seemed a perfectly reasonable question to me at the time. If god took the trouble to burn a bush and hand Moses some stone tablets with a set of rules to live by it seemed reasonable to point out the exceptions in the same way.

The teacher didn’t see it that way. I don’t know if my questions bothered him as much as the fact that some of the other kids were suddenly agreeing with my way of seeing the issue. In any case, he said we needed to move on because there were other commandments that we needed to learn. I didn’t see the point of moving on until we clarified what “thou shalt not kill” meant; along with the possible exceptions to that rule.

My impertinence got me a trip to stand in the hallway of the Sunday school building and a request to my mother during her Sunday school class explaining that I needed some guidance. I didn’t know this part of the story until she showed up a little while later, agitated and red faced with embarrassment. Needing guidance didn’t reflect well on her parenting skills in Southern Baptist circles and she was obviously not happy to find me standing alone in the hallway of the Sunday school.

I got a quick trip home for my questions, so that I could explain to my dad why I had embarrassed the family at Sunday school. To his credit my dad patiently asked what had happened instead of getting the belt out first. I guess he wasn’t as embarrassed by my need for guidance as my mother was. When I explained the questions and the confusing answers, he just kind of laughed the whole thing off.

“Never let anyone tell you something that doesn’t make sense without questioning it,” he told me. “Just make sure that if it’s an adult you do it in a respectful manner. If it’s a matter of your safety or physical well-being you will follow adult’s directions, but if it’s a matter of understanding an idea people should be able to explain themselves to you in a way that makes sense to you.”

When I asked him my question he said he simply didn’t know. “I suppose only god knows god’s will,” he said. I wasn’t ever forced to go back to church but I wanted to go because I loved the stories and liked learning new things. After that experience, I never looked upon anything else that I was told at church or anywhere else as being infallibly correct. I still don’t.

It’s probably not a coincidence that some of my earliest memories come from this same time frame in my life. One of my first discoveries was sexual pleasure. I discovered masturbation before I was six years old. I didn’t understand exactly what it was and I certainly didn’t know anything about sex acts in general but I knew how to make myself feel really good and spent a considerable amount of time doing it. At some point when I was openly fondling myself my dad told me that was not an activity to be done in public. He didn’t tell me it as a bad thing, just not something I should do in public. This seemed reasonable although I didn’t really understand why.

My mother didn’t take it so nonchalantly when she caught me with my pants down in the back seat of the car when she had allowed me to sit in the car while she took my sisters in to return some library books. The idea of not doing this in public was modified to include the suggestion that I shouldn’t be doing something like that at all at my age. She wasn’t exactly shaming me but I did get the sense that she was a little horrified at the idea of her five year old masturbating in a public place.

I don’t remember getting in a lot of trouble about it but the level of her upset made an impression on me and I made sure to keep such activities secret from that point forward. I didn’t quit doing it, I was just pretty careful that I didn’t get caught doing it. I told this story to a lover who was a psychologist one time and she insisted that I might have been feeling good but that I was definitely not having orgasms at five years old. She was wrong about that. She was also wrong that being caught doing it somehow scarred me emotionally. Getting caught didn’t really have a large effect on me one way or the other outside of enforcing that idea that sex is not necessarily for public consumption.
Posted:Feb 26, 2018 6:29 pm
Last Updated:Mar 18, 2018 1:55 pm

I spent a great deal of time reading blogs on here this weekend. Probably too much time but I enjoyed much of it and found some interesting insights and attitudes. As a backdrop, I am recently coming out of a long term live-in relationship. I hoped and thought it was one that would last forever but I was always aware that it might not. Reality is universal and it ALWAYS wins out over want and hope.

It is NOT my first serious relationship and hopefully it won’t be my last. None of that makes it any easier to digest the fact that it is over. What I would like do with this blog is explore, understand and improve my ability to have productive relationships. I long ago decided that there are several different indices for measuring the success of relationships. Longevity is just one of them. It is not the most important one in my opinion. I know plenty of people who have long term semi-permanent relationships that I would under no circumstances want to be a participant in. Don’t misunderstand me, that’s not a judgment on them; just an honest appraisal of what I want out of a relationship.

That viewpoint alone may put me at odds with most of the general public but it seems painfully obvious that humans aren’t necessarily built for permanent monogamous relationships, no matter how much we would like to believe we are. Without getting too far off track here, I believe that humans are constantly evolving. The more open a person is to new understanding, the more likely it is that they will evolve and I am very open to new understandings. Since I have a constantly expanding area of interests this means I am constantly exposed to ideas that affect my outlook and understanding. The odds of finding another person who is on the same path of understanding at the same time is really pretty low given the number of paths that lead to understanding. Krishnamurti probably said it best:

“Truth is a pathless land.”

The odds of me and one other person continuing to evolve in the same direction at the same time are even lower. None of that means I believe a permanent relationship is impossible for me to have. What it does mean is that it would take an extraordinary level of open communication between me and my significant other to make it last forever. It also means that there are going to be relationships that do not work because we simply evolve differently. Sadly, my past experience seems to point to the conclusion that I am nowhere near as good at that type of communication as I need to be. I hope to learn to be better but on one level or another communication or lack thereof has been a part of the end of every relationship I have had.

I won’t say they were failed relationships. Clearly, there were personal failures within some of them; both mine and theirs. However, the act of loving another human being so completely that you subjugate your wants and desires to theirs is never a failure in my book. Once I have crossed over that line it is not within me to ever quit loving that person. I simply don’t understand the tendency I see for people to go from loving someone to hating them. I still love every person who I ever felt that way about. I know I can’t go back to the way it was with them and I still have hurt and defensive feelings about some of them. I still love them and tell them so every time I get the opportunity. To suggest that they were failures just because they weren’t permanent is to misunderstand the nature of love itself in my view.

I read in someone’s blog this weekend that they believe this site is possibly the best place to find a real relationship because it is focused on sex. Many people simply want to pretend that sex isn’t an issue in a relationship. I am paraphrasing but I think the truth in that statement is self-evident. The very fact that many people want to pretend that points out how dishonest many discussions about relationships truly are. Perhaps it isn’t an issue for some people but it most definitely is for me and I know I cannot have a successful relationship with someone with whom it doesn’t matter. I am a sexual person. I always have been and I always will be. That has proven to be an issue that in both the short term and the long term affects every relationship I have in one way or another.

I learned that very early on in life. I have never forgotten it. I’m not talking about physical desire for another person. I am talking about the honest, open communication that allows two people to explore the rich fullness of the ultimate erogenous zone; the one between our ears. That takes communication, honesty, and trust to maintain. It’s rare but it does exist. Anyone who thinks all of that can be achieved without discussing sex is living in a world that truly is fantasy.

I plan on posting about my past relationships on this blog. It’s a sort of therapy for me to understand and hopefully improve my ability to have productive relationships. I will appreciate comments and I don’t mean only positive or encouraging ones. I believe we are all inherently flawed beings and have no problem admitting my mistakes in order to learn from them. If you as a reader see others that I am missing; feel free to point them out. I may not agree with you but I will appreciate the input.
Habitual Liars
Posted:Feb 25, 2018 6:54 am
Last Updated:Feb 27, 2018 12:46 am

I have a fatal weakness for habitual liars. Unfortunately, I have met and become involved with a couple of women who were habitual liars and it absolutely puts my world in a tailspin that I can't control. I don't have any defenses against it. I have no way of recognizing it when it is going on. It is like kryptonite on steroids for me.

Being an honest person, I guess I tend to expect a certain amount of respect for the truth. I don't expect that people will always tell the truth, just that they have enough respect for the truth that it bothers them to tell a lie. Being an instinctual person with very good perception, I tend to make judgments about such things without having to analyze too carefully. I have always been very perceptive of other people's feelings. If there is someone in a group who gets their feelings hurt by something someone else says I usually spot it almost instantaneously. I don't pretend to know how that works but my perceptions are usually spot on.

Since my perception is so well tuned I depend on it to deal with all my interactions. It isn't something I think about or concentrate on, it just is. I few years ago on of my co-workers and friends and I had a conversation about this that opened my eyes to just how much I depend on this in my every day life. I'll call him Bill.

Bill is a programmer who I had hired to write code for an automation project we were doing in our lab. He was an excellent programmer but more than a little socially awkward. He didn't really interact with people easily and preferred to work odd hours accordingly. I didn't really care, but I did notice that he was not the most socially adept person I have ever met. However, he was excellent at writing code and the project was proceeding very well.

Before the project was over, we became very good friends and often had a few drinks after work as well. He was an interesting guy, not at all like most people I knew at the time but bluntly honest and very intelligent at the same time. After the project ended he moved on but we still stay in touch. During an email exchange some time later he explained that he is self diagnosed with Asperger's; that he's mildly autistic. When he described all the symptoms to me I had to admit that he exhibited quite a few of them.

The striking thing I got from this conversation was that he had NO ability to percieve emotional responses in other people. He told me that he simply didn't have a way of telling when someone was joking, angry, upset, happy, etc. etc. In other words he was very awkward because he simply could not read people's emotions. He was kind of a polar opposite to me and my way of dealing with people. Where I can and do pick up very tiny emotional responses, he is completely oblivious to large ones.

He told me that he had spent a large part of his life believing that responses to emotional clues was a learned process; that it was simply a matter of memorizes expressions, body language, facial tics and expressions and making some sort of mental list of what each meant and what the correct response to it is. This information blew me away. I simply couldn't imagine going through life that way. It seemed a crippling form of emotional blindness; one that I couldn't imagine finding a way to deal with.

Understanding his issues led me to understanding one of mine that had occasionally driven me to distraction. It suddenly made sense to me why habitual liars are such a bane to my existence. Since I am extremely perceptive to small nuances in emotional response, I depend on that ability a great deal. I trust it because it works for me and I have learned to trust it more than other factors such as logically trying to decipher what is going on with people. It has made me instinctive and quick to understand a lot of things but it leaves me completely blind to certain personality disorders.

A habitual liar has no respect for the truth. Most normal people tell lies but their respect for the truth leads them to stumble over a lie when they do. There are many signs of this occurring which I won't go into here but I am finely attuned to them so that when someone tells me a lie, especially someone I know pretty well; I can instantly tell they are lying. I don't have to analyze it or reason it out, they give themselves away to me by their own emotional response to telling the lie to start with.

When someone has no such emotional response to their own lying because they simply have no respect for truth, I cannot spot it. A habitual liar simply doesn't see any reason not to lie; therefore it has no effect on them when they do. It's no more wrong for a habitual liar to tell a lie than it is for them to use any other tool to perform a function. A lie is simply a hammer utilized to drive a nail in that it is the most effective means of accomplishing a task. There is no right or wrong associated with using a hammer to drive a nail, it is simply the most efficient way of accomplishing the task. That's how a habitual liar views telling lies.

This small difference in how they view the world makes them impossible for me to spot. I have had relationships with two different women who were habitual liars on one level or another and they are simply poison to my system. They turn my world upside down. It is as if gravity simply no longer applies and every means of maintaining control and sanity in my world disappear.

I will find myself questioning my own memory. If they tell me something I said in an argument or discussion I will find myself struggling to recall if that is what I said or not. I will find myself questioning literally everything in my life eventually. It is an emotional minefield for me and the worst thing in the world for me to run up against. It usually takes an extended period of time before I can even make myself believe they are a habitual liar. During that time, all manner of confusing and ridiculous mental swings will occur in my mind. North becomes South, East is West and down is up.

Thankfully, I have met a couple of other people in the last fifteen years or so who have similar weaknesses and similar experiences. I find it helpful to run things by one of them when I start to suspect I am having that issue with someone. Maybe we should start a support group for victims of habitual liars.

Anyone else have this problem?

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The Dinner.... (2)Naughtypursuit
Mar 14, 2018 5:57 am
Seeking (4)Naughtypursuit
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Mar 8, 2018 3:34 pm
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Feb 25, 2018 12:50 pm