A Bird With One Wing Down
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Posted:Aug 28, 2015 10:52 pm
Last Updated:Sep 1, 2015 7:09 pm
21860 Views
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I have a type, and aside from all the other factors, including some shade of green eyes, one thing they all had in common was they were birds with one wing down. That phrase was coined by Ian Fleming to describe James Bond's type, and also relates to John D. MacDonald's Travis McGee and his famous sexual healing.
Don't get me wrong, I am not equating myself with two of the most accomplished lovers in popular fiction, I am only saying that I seem attracted to and to attract women who have been disappointed by love and sex in particular. I seem to come along at a time in certain women's lives when they have given up on that side of life and on romance, and I have been very lucky they found that with me for some reason.
They are of a type, intelligent, attractive, but usually with a rough childhood, either religious oppression and or a no good father though the first had neither but was brought up to strict and too protected and rebelled. They all were very sexual women who had trouble finding men who satisfied them, or who even tried, and they all knew there was more they wanted and needed whether they believed it was out there or not.
In all the cases sex came as a sort of revelation to them. Today walking home from the store Sheila informed me just walking was making her horny in my company, which is, even I admit, pretty damn good work for a man my age with a 50 year old woman.
I will grant I know a lot about sex and what physically and mentally turns women on. I've worked hard enough at it. There is no one universal thing beyond wanting to turn them on and trusting when you do. Every relationship is an adjustment to individual needs and likes with only a few things that are common physically. The emotional part is more standardized but still has to be fine tuned to the individual.
I get an inordinate amount of credit for what at best is a little knowledge, a bit of skill, some natural talent, a modestly larger than average endowment, a good deal of empathy and compassion, and great adaptability. I don't consciously look for anything, they are just a type that attracts me, but I do know better, I think, than most men what I like and don't like. No matter how attractive a woman maybe if I don't sense that innate sensuality in here I don't pursue it. It isn't something you can teach someone to feel, it is there or not.
I get a praised a lot for just knowing the type who will appreciate me and react to me. I take the praise with a grain of salt because I know 90% of everything is really them. But I do work at making them happy. Maybe I don't have to work as hard as I would with a different type, but I still put an effort into it, and I can't help but wonder if I am not getting credit simply for stubbornly refusing to treat them like every other man has. I only wish I could convince them how much they have given me in return for what little I do for them.
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Ride Hard Ride Fast
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Posted:Aug 19, 2015 3:33 pm
Last Updated:Aug 27, 2015 6:52 pm
22009 Views
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I think the biggest mistake most men make is thinking that women are somehow fragile or that they always want to make love and never want sex.
This is not to suggest they don't want tenderness, only that there are times she wants sex on the same terms as a man, straight forward and direct.
This little philosophical gem occurred to me over the weekend as I was tied to the bed spread-eagled and blindfolded while Sheila straddled me impaling herself on my cock and riding me at what can only be described at a gallop.
I'm an older men, it takes a bit more to arouse me perhaps, but once there it takes longer to come as well, so I am well suited to a hard ride without a lot of concern of falling short of her needs so as things progressed I was able to observe for once just how enthusiastic she was getting with only token participation on my part thanks to the scarves tying me to the bed.
I know some men are in awe and even fear of female sexuality, and perhaps we should be, but thank God for it too. I am grateful to be loved and lusted after by a woman who not only appreciates whatever skills I possess, but also takes a proprietary interest in a hard cock and a plunge and gallop involving it.
It was a wonderful reminder just how sexual the fair sex is and how equal our lust and passions are.
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Slow Hands
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Posted:Aug 10, 2015 8:35 pm
Last Updated:Aug 14, 2015 3:21 pm
22561 Views
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I have, according to most women, a big cock and a strong gifted tongue, but the thing I hear most from them is about my touch. From the top I have apparently been sending shivers down women's spines with my touch, from the lightest stroke on the cheek to a soft brush on the outside of the upper arm.
Sheila says her goosebumps are permanent.
I grant I have refined and worked on this skill over the years, and I know how to keep it short of tickling and annoying without losing that frisson that seems connected directly to the clitoris. Even women who I have not had sexual contact with but only exchanged a neck rub with purr like cats.
One night when I made the cat shiver Sarah spoke up in a sympathetic tone and exclaimed she knew just how he felt.
How important is your partners touch to you? Does it trump any other gifts he might have, or just part of the package?
I grant I am not humble on this one, I've worked to refine it and gotten a lot of great sex in return for it. I may have had some natural gift of sensuality, but I have consciously studied the ways to touch a woman and get the maximum sensual response --- and one clue, few of them involve direct genital or mammary contact in the beginning. Women tend to like the oblique approach most of the time (the other thing to learn is nothing is all the time).
Women have taught me how to touch them, at best I just paid attention.
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Back from the Dead or Anyway the Disconnected
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Posted:Aug 5, 2015 7:17 pm
Last Updated:Aug 9, 2015 5:36 pm
22858 Views
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Where was I before I was so rudely interrupted by moving and battling the cable and Internet providers because the service guys were respectively Gabby Hayes and Gomer Pyle (no, wait, Gomer was a good mechanic).
Don't start me on small towns. Today we can't even bathe because of ecoli in the water.
Arrghh...
Sheila and I are still walking on air, can' keep our hands off each other, and exploring, she's buying lingerie and toys, I'm trying flavored lubes and massage oils. I had forgotten how much fun it is to be in love.
I will gradually get to everyone, but for now I am thinking of you all and glad to be back, though with a story and a book due not to mention doing Sheila I will be doing this a little less often.
Incidentally she informed me her nickname younger was Shera as in the cartoon. I may or may not want to think of that.
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The Moving Finger Writes
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Posted:Jul 12, 2015 1:35 am
Last Updated:Aug 6, 2015 8:58 pm
24290 Views
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First I want to affirm that I have excellent taste in women, my many female friends here and my love Sheila. We have been laughing and or fucking for a month now and no sign of it ending. Even the arguments end in sex.
I am truly happy for the first time since Sarah died 20 years ago and there is no question this is right for us both. It's a little shocking to me that she finds me "beautiful", face, body, and cock, but she is in love and her eyesight is questionable.
She had her first G spot and first anal orgasm earlier today so I'm even higher on her list than I have been as a result. She is half laughing half annoyed about the anal because she gave in and let me add the anal play expecting not to like it and after the orgasm she is now considering anal sex despite my three inch wide cock head so it must have been a revelation.
Clearly have to work her up to it slowly.
We can't and don't keep our hands off of each other. It is disgusting to the rest of the world I'm sure. Awfully silly for my age, but that's what a sexy younger woman does for an old fool.
I don't want to imply the skills are one sides either. She is remarkably tight thanks to having done her keels and my cock feels as if it is being throttled inside of her. I really have to concentrate to last thirty or more minutes in her without cumming which is unusual for me. That and she is a gifted cock sucker despite my size which is rare. I only wish I could convince her that her mouth and touch and her pussy and fingers up my ass are as remarkable for me as what she claims I do for her.
I could come to like this being worshiped business but I know not to let it go to either head. I have no illusions that any of that would apply to anyone but her and only her because she loves me.
Nice to feel this way again though after a sex less decade. God, but I missed this.
We are still getting moved in. The washer and dryer still aren't hooked up, the gas man has to come again on the oven, only got the smart TV yesterday, and still waiting for cable and Net service (doing this on my Galaxy), but we are happy which for me is something I forgot how to be until I found her. She says I rescued her, but I think it is mutual.
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A Selfie 4th
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Posted:Jul 4, 2015 11:12 pm
Last Updated:Aug 5, 2015 7:18 pm
24550 Views
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Happy 4th of July!
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Missing But Not Gone
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Posted:Jul 1, 2015 4:44 pm
Last Updated:Jul 12, 2015 1:01 am
24798 Views
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I'm moving to a new place Friday with my love Sheila setting up house --- or brothel. It's a big step for both of us nicer place.
In any case I will be down for a short while getting the new Internet connection set up and may not be heard from, but I will be back visiting my friends and posting more often, just haven't convinced S to let me post pics of her or the ones she took of me,
Have fun and God bless all of you.
Be back soon.
Don't do anything I wouldn't do ... no, on second thought that's not nearly constraining enough, don't do anything you would hesitate to post ... No, that doesn't work.
Hell, don't get caught unless you want to.
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S Strikes Again pt 2
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Posted:Jun 12, 2015 10:55 pm
Last Updated:Jun 15, 2015 12:27 pm
26320 Views
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Now where was I ...
Oh yes. Sheila in the tub having just pulled my bike shorts down.
"Maybe you should join me," she says cupping my balls. "That looks painful."
I have to point out that less than a week earlier, even though she had come to me and made no uncertain point about what she wanted, she had been telling me the whole time I intimidated her. I can't see why, she's attractive, outgoing, wild, funny, and younger than me but for some reason I intimidated her, even before seeing my cock, then she sort of cried out half joy half surprise and --- yes, intimidation.
Then too, Sheila hadn't been as lucky with men as I had women. Not just bad guys, but not very experienced ones. She had never been really held, kissed in certain ways, made love to and not fucked. It had always been slam bam cum and go usually he came and he went.
She said she hadn't had these feeling for a while. She said she hadn't had these feelings at all. I still intimidated her.
Not this time. I barely had my shirt off and my feet in the water before she had my cock in her mouth. As much as she could. I won't pretend she was the magic fellatrix who could swallow nine inches and three wide. She was the magic woman who wanted to suck my cock; who grabbed my sizable balls, and caressed them, who slid a finger inside the crack of my ass as if we had done this a thousand times..
In a fantasy we would have had wild sex in the tub.
I'm six foot one and weigh 225, she's tall. In reality, she sucked on my cock and stood up, my mouth covered hers tasting my own pre cum on her lips and tongue. Her body was warm and wet against me, slick. I felt as if I were grasping a mermaid as my hands moved over her.
Her nipples were the size of thumbs. As my hand moved over her pubic mound the heat almost stung me. I slid into the wet embrace of the lips. She sighed when my fingers found her slick heat. A cry escaped her lips as they moved deeper. I thought her knees would give way.
We dried off as best we could and kissed and caressed our way to the bed. I don't think any woman has ever been wilder, unable to stay still, rubbing against me, kissing, We struggled to the bed, she fell back across it.
My mouth came down savagely as I covered her body. We were neither of us fully on the bed,
In old movies censors made the actor always have one foot on the floor if he was sitting on the bed with the actress. We had at least three on the floor, and it wasn't hindering anything.
I kneeled and lifted her legs to taste her, but she said, "No, fuck me. Fuck me, I want you in me."
I pushed her up onto the bed, lifting her hips into me. The bulbous head of my cock felt huge to me as it brushed her pubes and the wetness. As I pressed toward her the soft wet lips opened. it was like entering a furnace, and even though we had barely started, as I pushed her inner tissues apart entering her she was grasping me milking me. I wasn't sure I would last long enough to get all the way inside, if she could take that much of me.
But she was wet and hot and ballooned inside to take me even as she gripped me like a vise. When I felt my balls rest against her, she was grasping my neck with both arms, trying to wrap me in her crushing thighs.
She was crying out into my shoulder, biting, I felt her tears, passion not pain, She swung her head and I found her mouth, my tongue sought hers. I was moving in and out of her, something building in both of us. My fingers dug into her ass pulling her up into me. Her legs locked around me not giving an inch.
I don't think anyone ever wanted me inside of them more than she did at that moment. Something was radiating from my spine, building in my balls. It felt as if burning mercury were gathered at the base of my urethra in a great ball, too large to pass, but anxious to become a lava flow. I felt as if I would die if I didn't come and die if I did, empty myself in to the fiery pit that was threatening to swallow me and be lost forever.
And then she arced into me with a scream. I felt myself lost for a second and then she closed on me gripping me almost painfully the head swelled I became steel hard in her. Her breath came in short barks almost like yelps of pain and far sooner than I planned I exploded inside of her, I hemorrhaged semen into her, almost painfully, my balls aching., as she collapsed in my arms, pulling us both down to the bed, my weight on top of her.
I was still hard in her, still weeping come that she squeezed from me rhythmically.
We stayed in bed all that day and evening. Kissed, caressed. She finally let me eat her pussy and almost crushed my skull. Save for the time she was coming she smiled, almost laughed constantly. It was infectious. We kissed and laughed, caressed and played and touched. Just touched.
I came in her mouth, she gobbled me for more until I had to beg her to stop.
We started this as Friends With Benefits, at least that was all I really let myself hope for, now? I feel something much more than that when I hold her, when she smiles.
Sheila is independent. I won't hold her tightly. She'll be freer in my arms than out of them. No reins, no contracts, only what she wants to give, wants to receive. I still intimidate her. I don't think she knew she could be loved or desired by anyone who just wanted to give to her, not take. It's a good kind of intimidation.
She says I'm handsome. She really must need new glasses. Or maybe she just can't see very clearly for the stars in her eyes.
The letter S. I am in so much trouble.
The best kind of trouble.
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S Strikes Again
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Posted:Jun 10, 2015 7:48 pm
Last Updated:Jun 12, 2015 7:13 pm
26626 Views
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I have a history with the letter S. More so than any other letter in the alphabet. Two of my wives had names that started with S, Sarah and Sally (even worse, Sally is an old nickname for women named Sarah). My first long term relationship was Suzy in college, a Eurasian graduate student who resembled Nancy Kwan, who played the lead in The World of Suzy Wong.
Granted, my first wife was Angelique, not an S in her name anywhere even after we married. Not an S between us and only one tiny one in our 's middle name right at the end --- Yves.
But S has played a bigger role than it should in my sex life: Sharon, Susan, Sue, Sandra, Sandy, Sam(antha), and now ... Sheila.
Sheila is the attractive lady of a certain age who I mentioned in an earlier post showed up on my doorstep with offers of gratitude in the physical form for my somewhat dubious brush with heroism --- the moral kind anyway.
Sheila. Hmm, how to describe her? Physically blonde, green eyes, attractive. Mentally --- uh, well, mentally --- basically my standard, big mouth, total extrovert, no censor on her mouth (verbally or sexually), a screamer, wild in bed, loves sex, big tits she doesn't mind displaying in low cut tops, long legs she doesn't mind displaying, hates to admit she's vulnerable ... she is over a decade younger which is new, but she's pretty much my type, too much jewelry, dresses better than she has to, her own sense of style, doesn't know what shy means, can't get along with her mother, loves animals, said she would sleep with me the first time I met her ...
That was four years ago. She was in a relationship of the tempestuous kind. It's been off an on because he needed her, heart surgery and diabetic problems, plus he is an ex con struggling to pay back his considerable court cost even though he honestly didn't commit the crime. A nice guy, but prison really screwed him up plus he's racist which she can't stand, impotent, and so touchy he is only friendly with a few of us.
But now its over. She's waiting to get out and he's resigned to it. He's mad at her, knows she likes me, but he and I are still friends.
Yeah, weird. I tend to do weird.
Yesterday she came over again. "Could I use your tub?" Their place doesn't have a tub. Their place barely has a place, it's more a bunker with two doors and a few windows than a house.
Of course she could use the tub, no strings, no mention of last week. No pressure, no come on.
Okay, I'm a mensch, and an idiot. Maybe it was a fluke. Maybe she regrets what happened. Maybe I wouldn't recognize a pass now if Western Union delivered it.
"Could I use your tub?" Well, I am nearsighted.
So she disappears in the bathroom, such as it is, and I hear the water on, and I am sitting on the side of the bed at my portable desk on this laptop avoiding working on my book, and more than a little distracted by the nearness of a naked woman so close and so far, and a desirable one at that.
I'm trying to avoid thinking about that. I was laying around the house in white bike shorts and any bulge is going to be notable not to mention wet spots. Other guys try to recite baseball statistics at times like these or do math. I count in French. My sexy first wife was French. It doesn't work worth a damn.
And then that familiar call.
Women have a certain way of calling a man to arms. I hear that voice in my sleep. It's usually prefaced by "Honey, could you come here for a minute ..."
No matter how high pitched their voice it drops about an octave, becomes throaty, a touch whiskey soaked, suddenly they all sound like Elizabeth Ashley with a head cold. Books of the sort I write use the word "husky" usually "with desire" or in racier books "with lust."
She's a little husky anyway (another pretty common denominator in my life --- sue me, I'm aural).
"________, can you come here for a minute ..."
I did not run. I stood up slowly. She could just need help adjusting the temperature of the water. Maybe she needed a towel. Maybe she had soap in her eye.
Maybe celibacy has made me a total moron.
The door wasn't locked. I pushed it in. She's in the tub and the glass doors pretty much obscure the interesting parts.
"Over here," she said.
The treasonous dictatorial bastard in those too tight bike shorts is unfurling his serpentine hood (got that from a women's romance novel aka soft porn), I have an erection, or about two thirds of one if you want to be graphic. Maybe she won't notice. It's only about at the seven inch range so far.
"Can you come here?"
I don't walk in backwards. I think of it, but I don't. Nice and casual. Why make this easy by stripping off and just diving in.
I walk forward. Gradually I see more. No strategic wash cloth. She is casually sitting in my tub, no bubbles. She has large breasts with large nipples, dark and right now rigid for a woman in a warm tub. I recall pleasurable details.
Why is it women love to torture guys?
Well, why not?
As George Carlin said, women are all crazy and men are all stupid, and women are crazy because men are stupid ...
An erection, even a large cock, shouldn't really draw all that much blood from your brain, but it does. You think anger makes you stupid you should try an erection.
My balls ache too. Never a good sign. In older men they don't tighten as much as the used to with an erection. Mine are hard as pool balls, and feel about that size.
So here I stand, my now close to eight inch, pushing 100% erection is edging up to the elastic band of my bike shorts. At this point I am cursing myself for buying white and not black. There is a wet spot I feel, but don't dare look at.
She is leaning forward face to balls so to speak.
One hand raises slowly, dripping water and soap, and she cups my balls and cocks.
"Oh, I've gotten you wet." I'm pretty sure it's mutual, but I don't say it. "You should get those off, you feel feverish."
It's a wonder her hand isn't steaming.
She reaches with both hands under my tee shirt and slides fingers under the elastic. The shorts hang for a eon or two on the erection inside them and then slide off pulling it down and then springing up. It's just short of nine inches now, wide head, lips open with a worm of pre cum trying to escape.
"Maybe you should join me," she says cupping my balls. "That looks painful."
To be continued.
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Modern Mom --- Almost
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Posted:Jun 7, 2015 2:05 pm
Last Updated:Jun 8, 2015 6:54 pm
26343 Views
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I know a number of you are Mom's with and are trying hard to be modern sex positive Mom's and raise informed who don't suffer from the hang-ups imposed on us by our childhood, and I applaud that.
But you may not want to make this mistake (hope this stays up).
Do you see the real problem with this?
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Man of the Hour for About Thrity Minutes
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Posted:Jun 5, 2015 10:50 pm
Last Updated:Jun 6, 2015 8:57 pm
26888 Views
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I won't go into a lot of details, but quite a few people here, including many at the Day Center where I work and teach rent from the same landlord and administrator of the RCF (Residential Care Facility) who has a hold over them since they think there is nowhere to go and they are caught under his thumb. They are right to some extent since there is nowhere near to go and most want to stay at the Day Center.
I should add there is some politics involved since he is illegally invested in another Day Center (no proof yet, but its an open secret) and has attempted for over a year to close down the facility where I work and force the people living at his facility or renting from him as independents to go there. His partner originally left the Day Center I work at under suspicion of fraud and theft of files protected under HIPA laws.
This is small town Oklahoma, well even in big city Oklahoma, corruption is rampant and people without much education, family, money, or pull are run into the ground by those who have them. There are mechanisms for appeal, but they are threatened not to use them upon moving here, and the record of the Advocates office, DHS, Social Security, or the State or Federal AG's office actually doing anything in this backassward state is poor to non existent. You run afoul of either well meaning overworked bureaucrats, corrupt ones, or ones too damn stupid or lazy (or both) to do their job.
The rest of the country is in the 21rst century, Oklahoma is still in the Depression of corrupt boss government. We aren't a Red state because of conservatism, but because corruption from the bottom up keeps the state bankrupt and social services at the bare minimum. Any statistic where being in the forties among the worst states is a bad thing this state excels in.
Most of the time our landlord/administrator is benevolent enough, but the ones who rent from him in what is called transitional living away from the facility are living in virtual slums and he takes the considerable rent he receives, packing three or four people in the homes he rents and then rather than repairing them buying new ones. Three to four people pay $475 dollars apiece for houses without central air of heating, problems with cockroaches and ants, no privacy, single bathrooms, mixed male and female (not couples) residencies, and rare work done on them save when absolutely needed (he replaced our refrigerator after all our food being ruined for a month, and it took two years to get a washer and dryer from him). those in the facility pay $650 for a bed (often in six or eight men dorms) and a single meal a day that until recently often consisted of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches (a nutritionist put an end to that because there are so many diabetics).
In addition he is gone quite a bit leaving his mother in charge, a hateful woman feared by everyone who likes to yell at people and has been known to refuse to hand out their rightful meds, have pain meds go missing, and who refuses to let anyone stay home sick. He is known to gamble as well and I know gamblers don't come out even in the long run.
While he is nice enough personally, or at least wants everyone to see him that way, people who don't feel like they have any options are frightened to act and fear the consequences. They either have no where to go, no one to turn to, or lack the education and ability to get help, and they are frightened of his mother's wrath. He is also their payee and landlord, a violation of state and Federal law that somehow DHS and SS can't be bothered with.
I've been documenting some of the conditions in his rental places including mine, which I share with two people from his facility, and I've been working with the manager of the Day Center and members of the staff to see what could be done.. Some basic repairs have been needed in our place for two years that he is well aware of including a u joint needing replacing in the kitchen for a year and a half so our cold water tap has been out that long. Our toilet has been backing up into the tub off and on for over two years and the last month every day plus the washer causes it to overflow flooding the bathroom in feces. That happened this Sunday at the same time a died in her sleep and had to be found by her roommate because the lazy ass staff at the facility didn't check on her between 6am and 5pm despite her having a blood clot and being a diabetic with signs of entering a coma that had been reported to them.
Tuesday was her memorial service held by the Day Center. He didn't show no one from the RCF did. She had been a for 14 years.. She had no money so the county cremated her, they could not even attend her memorial service for a few minutes, not so much as a representative.
Wednesday I brooded.
Thursday I acted.
I used to be in PR and I know how to use information, I have a terrible temper along with those skills, I have no problem cutting my nose off to spite my face if I take yours with me. In short I got mad to the point of not caring. Then a so called friend ratted me out to the administrator and the shit hit the fan --- actually it has looked like that in our bathroom far too long.
So Thursday I applied the pressure I had been planning with my documentation. He reacted like all petty despots accusing me of being two faced, threatening the with dire consequences of forcing them to attend the Day Center he is illegally invested in. And like all petty bullies and depots he blew and blew like the Big Bad Wolf; his problem being I'm the brick pig not the straw or stick one. I don't fall down, I bend with the wind, I only fall on the blowhards trying to blow me down.
This morning not one of the Day Center I work at got on the vans to go to his.
At ten I received a call. He had fixed our plumbing and sprayed for the black mold from the flooding. There is at least the promise he is now going to work on the other places as well.
He had something to hide and that's why he blew. He has something to hide and that's why he caved. It's a bit like judo, apply the right leverage.
I'm not a hero, this isn't heroic, but I admit when I walked into work to congratulations all around from staff and , hugs, applause, and a new spirit because they have been emboldened I felt pretty good. Whatever the long term cost to me, if any, I gave them one day of victory, One little win in a lifetime of losing. One less frustrating day for the staff of not being able to help as much as they want. One day the won something after lives of losing. It was an unusually happy day up there.
I honestly think the staff was more excited than the or I was. It's frustrating not being able to do anything while watching people screwed over.
Heroes do brave things spontaneously. Mine were calculated, weighed, planned for, and though the trap sprang early, I was prepared and I was mad. Hardly cool and calculated, but cool enough it turned out. Not what I call courageous or heroic, more a fallback to earlier years when I was a pro at doing this sort of thing for God and country and eventually the Pinkerton agency. Being a hero is hard, but I'm naturally a duplicitous SOB when crossed or pushed with my back to the wall. Sometimes heroes are just the right evil bastard at the right place at the right time too.
But for a day or so I'll be the "Man," play at St. George, it's a small victory for people with nothing, but it's still a victory. I won't take it away from them by pointing that out. They are the real heroes, the and the staff, I'm just the face in front of the parade, and parades are over pretty fast.
I was always good at bluffing though
And it wasn't without an unexpected reward..
One of the renters, not a , is an attractive blonde about 15 years younger than me (still not all that young), who around and flirts harmlessly with me most of the time. This afternoon she showed up on my doorstep all dolled up, came in, pushed me into the bedroom, and preceded to show her gratitude in a demonstrable way. Orally and otherwise.
I tried to be the modest sort of hero and tell her she didn't need to, but its hard to argue with your cock in a desirable and skilled mouth, and she is one of those from the last post who came out and told me she would sleep with me if she wasn't in a relationship.
I will go into erotic detail some other time. I'm too tired right now.
Like I said, the and staff deserve the real credit here, but Hell, I'm not sharing this afternoon with them whether I deserved it or not.
There is such a thing as too modest.
Rather than riding off into the sunset with a hardy "Heigh Ho Silver!" the Lone Ranger should have hung around some of those grateful school marms longer.
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Friends With Offers of Benefits
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Posted:Jun 1, 2015 3:32 pm
Last Updated:Jun 3, 2015 1:17 pm
26903 Views
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This has happened to me numerous times over the years whether I was in a relationship or not, and since it happened again the other day I am going to finally ask the question of woman and men, but I need to explain what I mean.
I have mentioned to some of you in various comments I went through a spell in the seventies and eighties where every time I went out, and sometimes just in conversation, women would casually note they would like to have a with me. Most were not looking for a husband or even a relationship. They just liked my qualities (and I wish they had told me what they were, because I could not see them).
This happened with younger women and older women. To be frank, I got a little paranoid, feeling as if before going on date I should ask if she was going to want a baby. It was about the third thing my first wife, Angelique ever said to me, "I want to have your ."
You've seen my picture, I'm no lady-killer, even with hair.
That isn't the phenomena I meant though. The one I am discussing here is a bit more complex than the previous one which may have just been biology calling to an unused uterus from ready eggs. This one I don't know about.
So Friday, a friend, younger than me by several years, out of the blue says: "You know, if I weren't in a good relationship I'd sleep with you in a minute."
Granted we were kidding and flirting, I'm a little flirtatious, but not annoying with it, just enough to show an interest without being creepy or out of place, showing an appreciation but not ogling or touching or invading their space, but that came from left field, and the thing is it isn't the first time women have said that to me, almost always women younger than me. I ran into this with some of my first two wives friends as well.
"If you weren't married to ...",
'If I wasn't dating ....,"
"If I wasn't in a relationship with, engaged to, sleeping with ..." It goes on. I've heard it four times here, once the first week. Some of them apologize for not having sex with me when I didn't ask.
"I'd really like to, but I think this thing with _____ is serious."
I didn't ask her.
I'm not talking about blogging, but in person, face to face, friends you know and see fairly often even friends where you are close to their partner.
Granted it is flattering, if a little awkward. What do you reply? "I'd nail you in a minute?"
"How's that relationship going?" I actually used that one once, but for a laugh.
"My wife keeps me on a short leash?"
"I'd like to, but my doctor told me to cut down on my cholesterol?"
So the question is to the men, have you had this experience with a woman friend or friend's wife or friend of your wife or girlfriend? And ladies, have you ever said this to a man and did you mean it, and what was his reaction when you did?
I'm serious, I just want to know how common it is. I know it isn't unusual for members of the opposite sex thrown together as friends are to flirt and be attracted, but do most women come out and say it like that. They aren't propositioning me, its more like an apology, but a sincere one, like : "I'd really like to but I just can't ..."
I have to point out, I mean really light flirting, things like how hot she looks, or how great her hair looks, or what an attractive woman she is, no propositions, no hints, no serious seduction, sometimes it just comes our of clear air with no flirting at all.
"I'd sleep with you right now if I wasn't ..."
Honestly, have you ever said this to anyone face to face?
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Bond, James Bond
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Posted:May 28, 2015 7:51 pm
Last Updated:May 29, 2015 7:54 pm
27022 Views
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Today is the birthday of Ian Lancaster Fleming the creator of James Bond, 007, every ones favorite British spy, ladies man, wit, and conspicuous consumer of cars, wine, whiskey, women, and originally cigarettes.
I read my first Bond novel two years before the first film, Dr. No, so I was a fan before I ever saw Sean Connery or Ursula Andress. Admittedly it was more than a bit precocious of me to be reading Ian Fleming at that age, a fact my mother noted about two books into the series, but when she asked if I understood what was happening in certain parts of the book and I admitted I did (not entirely true) she figured the harm was already done.
Wise woman, you can't retract the apple once bitten.
Ironically James Bond ended up having a curious effect on my life. I would work in intelligence, though I originally intended to be a nice quiet analyst, I would later work for Pinkerton's (Felix Leiter in the Bond books works briefly for Pinkerton's) and I had a penchant for what can only be called Bond girls. Unusually attractive women, but still bird's with one wing down to quote Bond. Today, I am a thriller writer myself, though no Ian Fleming, my writing partner and I helming a much less known series, so far, though a while back George Clooney's production company nosed around the edges of our hero's adventures.
One can dream can't one.
Sex. sadism, and snobbery were what the critics said of Fleming early on, and it's a damn good formula for writing thrillers still. Admittedly our books have little to do with either of our real adventures, he was a globe trotting engineer, but we manage to slip a small dose of reality in once in a while. In my case the women I was so lucky to know and in some case love.
Ian Fleming died of a heart attack on the golf course at age 56. of what he called the "iron crab." But obviously as Daniel Craig's many fans will attribute, James Bond lives.
The Bond books and films are actually pretty tame in terms of what happens on screen, but I did learn how to kiss from reading the books, and it certainly paid off in that way. I was never quite James Bond (my first wife called me a double 0 sept when she was angry at me, Double 0 Seven), no one was outside of a book. He's a fantasy, the secret Walter Mitty life of wartime spymaster but not agent, Ian Fleming. He's really not a nice person, a bit ruthless for a hero,a cold blooded killer, more the type to sleep with than marry, but I haven't noticed most women complaining the last fifty years or so.
You never know where books will take a young mind. Maybe you should hope you stick with Dr. Seuss.
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