Tease, Denial, and Release

Well Blogosphere, I bet you thought I'd disappeared completely? Nope, just mentally occupied elsewhere. But today my lover went for my favorite of our little games and it inspired me to write.

Anyone who has read my blog knows I enjoy just about all forms of sex play. Ok, maybe truely all but then there are still things I haven't tried and I have to believe there will be something I don't like. Even if you aren't quite as adventurous as I, the fact that you read my blog suggests you are a little adventurous. And though you enjoy more than more thing, you probably have a favorite way to cum.

Judging from the number of guys who seek out oral sex (including "Cum in Mouth" and women who swallow), and their frustration with sex partners who aren't into fellatio, it sure seems that would win in a poll. Well, not for me. I love oral as part of play. I mean, really love it. But it is my least favorite way to cum. The former I attribute not just to oral feeling good, but to how exciting it is to see a woman really get into it. But the cum part? Yes, it it really exciting when you know they want your cum in their mouth, and if they swallow it that is just such an exquisite compliment. I just find my orgasms aren't as intense from oral as from other activities. So yes, suck me, suck my balls, and if you really want to eat my cum then by all means suck me to completion. I will completely enjoy it, just understand that it won't leave my brain splattered on the ceiling.

So what about intercourse? Now this is a complex subject. A very complex subject actually. If I'm having intercourse with someone I love and am in a long-term relationship with cumming during intercourse is the most special, intimate, and satisfying thing in life. With anyone else? I enjoy fucking but again it is not my favorite way to cum. There is the psychology part to this, and there is the physical part. The psychology part should be obvious, with someone else it just is lacking the intimacy. The physical part is that my orgasms from intercourse rarely leave my brain splattered on the ceiling. And they never do unless it is my lover.

So then, what is my favorite way to cum? It is a hand-job. Not a simple old fashioned hand-job, but one involving some tease and denial. I LOVE it when my lover takes me to just before the point of no return then backs off for a bit, then does it again, and again, and again. Isn't that frustrating you ask? Immensely so. And I imagine that at age 18 I would have wanted to kill a woman for doing that to me. But in my 50s I usually mumble something under my breath, put a grin on my face, internalize that a little frustration means a big reward is coming, and (if it is my lover) sit up and give her a passionate kiss while she continues stroking me. Because when I cum it is BIG. It is the brain splattering on the ceiling. It is the momentary blackout. It is the cum that either never stops flowing, or that shoots over my head. It is amazing. And so it is my favorite way to cum.

Of course, I like variety and would never want to cum just one way all the time. But I really do love tease and denial, and ultimately release.

Yes, this blog is still alive

I know I didn't post in February and we are almost halfway through March without a post either. I'll correct that, as soon as I have something to say :-)

Poetry Never Got Me Laid

A few days ago I had a Twitter exchange with @my_oh_mia in which she teased about chics loving poetry. Now before I dispute that, which is what the title of my blog suggests I'm going to do, I did want to thank her for her poetic contribution ( This endless winter\ Cruelly long, yet I smile\ Better Wednesdays soon) which concisely captured my mood as of late. Yes, that is exactly how I've been feeling as my lover's absence weighed on me and as I think about her return. But honestly, when I think back to all the women I've been close to I can't think of anyone who was really that into poetry.

I have written technical papers considered classics, eulogies that left rooms of people weeping, and love letters that turned a woman uninterested in marriage into my (first) wife. But I am definitely not a poet. I find the precision of its form(s) tedious. While I love exercising my brain, until smoke comes out my ears if necessary, poetry just doesn't seem worth the effort. I don't even enjoy reading it. I have a truly vivid imagination (to the point I have on occasion worried about slipping into an imaginary world so deeply I'd end up in a mental institution), yet poetry doesn't generally paint pictures for me. Nothing. I would give anything to be able to read Dante's Inferno. Well, anything except my soul. I can't, my mind draws a blank every time I try. So you can imagine my horror at the notion that poetry works wonders on women. Fortunately, it just doesn't seem to be true.

Back in high school I actually did write some poetry, specifically aimed at helping me with seducing a particular girl. She definitely appreciated the effort, but no more than she appreciated other efforts to garner her affection. No doubt my poetry was not particularly good. But then I had precious little evidence that she cared one wit about poetry to begin with. And as I moved on with life that is pretty much what I've found. Very few women cared that deeply about poetry. But all women care that a man demonstrates real effort in courting or trying to seduce them. I suppose that writing a poem is so supremely painful for most men that we get great credit for the attempt. As for me, I'd rather walk on hot coals to demonstrate my love. Because poetry never got me laid.

What?! No Blogs in January?

I realize I haven't made a blog post at all this month...until now. The problem is, you can't have "ramblings of a happy man" without a happy man. And I haven't been happy at all this month. So even when I thought of some topic I've been meaning to blog about, or a new one, I couldn't get up the energy to write about it. Why an UNhappy man? Nothing in my life has been going according to plan lately.

Home life has been wacky due to some health issues. Work life has been stressful due to a few things. And my escape valve (aka, lover) has been absent for over two months. I had an epiphany where I realized just how carefully I had balanced these three elements of my life so that in aggregate they bring me great joy. For example, some of my career choices these last few years were made to enable me to spend more time with my lover. (They were also great choices in terms of things I love to do, and in terms of financial reward.) But when my lover isn't around, the negatives of those career choices get on my nerves. Amusingly those negatives are things that she herself understands all too well. They are all associated with being "an employee" (even if in a fairly senior executive position) rather than working for oneself.

The good news is that there is improvement on the home health issues front, I've gotten a few annoying things under control at work, and my lover is returning soon. The Happy Man is returning.

A Tribute

We all can point to people who have had a huge impact on our lives, usually our parents, grandparents, siblings, or other relatives. A spouse. Perhaps a teacher or career mentor. Today I want to pay tribute to someone I've never met, but whose influence I've felt for the last few years. I know her only through occasional vignettes relayed to me by the woman I love. From those vignettes, and the way my lover talked of her mother-in-law, I know she was a very special person.

When I first met my lover she had been widowed for several years. In those early days we often talked about her husband and I quickly grew to like and respect him. To this day he holds a place of high honor with me, because without him the woman I love would simply not exist. And while her husband was long gone by the time I met my lover, his mother continued to live with her and influence her life. I will forever be thankful for the time she walked this earth, and the legacy she left behind.

I know that tonight my lover is in extreme pain, and my heart goes out to her and to her entire family. You, and the world, have suffered a great loss.

I wanted to f*** her brain

It all started with her Tweets. She seemed smart, funny, flirtatious. In my mind I pictured her as cute and sexy. I decided I wanted to fuck her brain, which is different than "fucking her brains out". Not that the two are mutually exclusive mind you!

I was officially sex-starved, having gone two weeks without. My how that makes me laugh! I have trouble being celibate for two weeks, when I've had periods of years without sex? I've always had the appetite for lots of sex and sexual variety, but I'd forced myself to suppress it. Better to be celibate than seek sexual adventure outside of marriage. At least until the marriage snapped. I'd gotten myself through that knothole, keeping the marriage healthy, and eventually taking on a mistress. And now I realize how much has changed over the last 5 years, urged on by a lover with a very strong sexual appetite herself. The 6 additional weeks until I could again see my lover weighed heavily on me. I couldn't do anything about the emotional hole I was feeling, but I could turn lemons into lemonade. I decided I would seek a one or more sexual adventures in my lover's absence. As always the first question to come to mind was, kink or vanilla? I decided kink was in order, particularly experiences that would be quite different with a stranger than with my lover. At the same time I wouldn't rule out something more vanilla if the right woman came along. I even had an ulterior motive.

I love smart women. I'm seduced by them even if that isn't their intent, and when that is their intent then I figure resistance is futile. That's how it was with these tweets. They weren't directed at me, but there was something about them that made me want to meet and fuck the brain that wrote them. Sexy? Check. Funny? Check (silly even, but in a very brainy way). Sophisticated? Yes, that showed through the silliness. Genuine? She sure seemed that way.

I did not look to see if she had reviews. I did not look at her pictures. I did not look at her prices. I simply sent her mail saying I wanted to see her. And I had one of the best times since starting my adventures.

As for my ulterior motive.... I've always wanted to give my lover the gift of a threesome, but never could think of someone I thought worthy to present to her. As anyone who has read my or my lover's blogs knows, we have done threesomes with one of her friends. That was her gift to me (and to herself, of course). But now, I've found someone I'd be happy to bring to a threesome with my lover. Hopefully we can make that happen soon after her return. Because as much as I love sexual adventures, the ones I love the most are those that I get to share with her.

What is "straight"?

Once again a question from Silvia-Mckenzie elicits a long response from me (meanwhile @Poohbear98188 summed things up rather succinctly). Silvia asked, "What is 'straight'"? I've thought about this a fair amount over the years, initially triggered when a big burly manly lumberjack-like (although he was a computer programmer) friend of mine introduced me to his gay lover. While completely ok with me, I didn't "get it" from a chemistry standpoint. I tried imagining them having sex and it was kind of like trying to imagine your parents having sex. My brain just would not go there (and I finally watched gay porn just to see what my mind refused to conjure up images of). And so, as I've explored my own sexuality and observed the many variations on sexuality (thank you WWW!), I've had numerous thoughts about the topic. Today was a perfect day for Silvia to have posed this question, because today an acquaintance let me know that he was transgendered and working his, or rather her, way to GRS. More on this later.

I know how my body and brain react (from the subtle to the more obvious that @Poohbear98188 mentions) when I see a beautiful woman, smell her, interact with her, etc. Indeed, my body even reacts that way (though perhaps more on the subtle side) with an unattractive woman. My body and brain have no such reactions to any man. To take @Poohbear98188's point a little further, I can't even tell a good looking man from a not very good looking man. (And on a side note, when some "I'd never have sex with anyone other than my husband" woman tells me she'd violate that rule to have sex with Brad Pitt, George Clooney, Denzel Washington, or some other hunk of the moment, I am indeed baffled about why that particular male elicited such a reaction). I'm just not programmed to react sexually to men. And thus "straight" to me is not about what acts one does or does not participate in, it is about what chemical reaction occurs. Opposite Sex only reaction = Straight. Same Sex only reaction = Gay. Both Sex reaction = Bi (to varying degrees, just to complicate things).

Of course life can never be that simple, and so for many years I have been struggling with a conundrum (triggered by a particular movie whose name I forget). Let's say I meet a woman who is beautiful and sexy. She seduces me and we retire to someplace private for sex. We kiss passionately and I am super turned on. I remove her bra and bury my face in her gorgeous breasts, kissing them and sucking on her nipples. I kiss down to her navel and slip off her panties. And out springs a penis. Do I recoil in horror and run for the hills? Or, do I live in the moment and pop it into my mouth? And if I did the latter, would it be a sign of some latent "gay" tendencies or just an acknowledgment that a "chic with a dick" is first and foremost a chic? I don't think I want to know the answer, just in case it is different from what I think it is. Note that I will likely never face this sexual "kobayashi maru" because it requires that I not know (nor suspect) that the chic has a dick until after I am super turned on and in the midst of foreplay. But certainly this scenario throws a monkey wrench into my otherwise simple answer for "What is 'straight'?"

Of course there are other complicating scenarios. What if you are a submissive with no interest in men whatsoever, and your mistress orders you to suck another man's cock? Perhaps she is doing it precisely because she knows you find the idea revolting and the only reason you will do this is to demonstrate your deep submission to her. And you do it, because the alternative is to acknowledge you can't submit to her at the level she (and probably you, before reality struck) desires. Sorry, you forgot to mention to her that was a hard limit. So you suck. By my chemical reaction theory you are still straight. However, if you actually tell a femdom you want a "forced bi" scene then it isn't so clear. Perhaps you find it degrading and you are into degradation. Or perhaps you are bi-curious but could never bring yourself to do something about it, so you abdicate responsibility to the dominant but still get to try it out. Ah the complications of sex!

Which brings me back to an interesting complication I never would have thought about had Silvia not posed her question, the TG acquaintance. As expected I have never had any sexual reaction to this person when he was living as a male and I can't imagine having any reaction to her now that she is wearing women's clothing, taking hormones, etc. Now fast forward a few years to Post-Op and a well faded memory that she was once a he. Plus make the assumption that he turns out to be a fairly attractive she (which thinking about his build, facial structure, etc. is actually not a bad assumption). He will be a she in every externally detectable (to everyone except a forensic anthropologist) way, but it is the same person. Why is it that having a sexual reaction to that person two weeks ago would have been classified as "gay", while having a sexual reaction to that person two years from now will be classified as "straight"? It is enough to make your head really hurt.

So what does this all mean? Well, not much. Except maybe we should all stop worrying so much about labels and just enjoy ourselves.