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.