Monday, November 24, 2008

Dreaming . . .

I don't know why this is so hard to write about on a regular basis, but I want to tell you more about our Ben experiences. God knows Mike and I talk about it often enough, even though this was at least ten years ago. Pretty much every time we have sex. Perhaps it's because I'm trying to apply a narrative thread to something that is essentially non-narrative. The three of us basically had several sexual experiences a long time ago. There really wasn't a beginning or an end - we fell into it, and we drifted apart again without a lot of drama. We had some fun, and nobody got hurt - if only things always ended that way in love and lust.

In keeping with that spirit, maybe I'll just tell you about this man's penis. I like the bluntness of that particular word, and I liked the heft of that thing in real life. I always associated that thing with blunt force when I would play with it, and Mike literally creams when I speak bluntly about how fondly I remember it.

I don't know if it could be called beautiful, but it whatever it did for me, I felt it deeply. Not just in the way you're thinking, but emotionally. I would see this thing, erect, kind of long, but the thickness was what really made me swallow hard. I don't know if men have an equivalent feeling, but when I see something like that, I have a powerful urge to take it in my mouth. I'm sure most girls here are familiar with that species of male whose favorite pass involves them opening their trousers and looking at their girl with an expectant stare. I have to admit that I am one of the few girls that nearly always fall for this lame come-on. I've given more than a few charity blowjobs because of this weakness, but silly me, it's just how I'm wired.

So in the spirit of non-narration, I'll just tell you about the effect on me and Mike. We can still spend literally hours talking about that thing. We like to do a little of this and a little of that. We strip, we kiss, we whisper to each other about our different adventures. Mike somehow will lead the dirty talk back to Ben, because he's seen firsthand the effect that a nice big penis can have on me. Talking about it gets me wet every time - every married person could be honest and tell you that getting aroused over your husband or wife will take some time the longer you are together, but Mike and I are both pretty open about the way the thought of a new penis can really make me drip.

Well, Mike put me in that state, so I generally make him go down on me. I'm not nineteen anymore, but I can still knock out a couple of O's in a session with no problem, so I don't let him up from between my legs without giving me at least one. Plus it's fun to be able to reminisce explicitly about Ben's penis while Mike has his mouth full. I especially like to watch Mike's penis twitch more and more as I talk dirtier and dirtier.

So after I let him up, he really wants to be inside me. He tells me how my soaking cunt reminds him of some of our other adventures with Ben, but I don't want to talk about those just yet - I just want keep whispering to Mike about how orally inclined it would make me feel.

It's funny - you could watch us making love at these times, and it would appear so romantic. And it is, although we are nuzzling and kissing each other while we very graphically discuss how hot this man's penis makes me. Mike is so sweet because he doesn't get jealous - he just takes pleasure in how it makes me feel, and how it makes us feel.

And he does take pleasure, because he never can last for very long when we make love this way. Neither can I really - when I feel Mike begin to lose it, I'm usually right behind him.

It's kind of funny really - as I said it's been ten years, we've lost touch. Ben is probably married somewhere. But even after all this time, Ben's penis is still making me come.

I think that may be the real definition of immortality.

Thursday, November 20, 2008

Jinxed . . .

Damn, I jinxed myself. I had to get all know-it-all about the blog stages of death, and then I go into a posting slump. Pretty soon people will be checking back, and after weeks of no posting, they'll leave comments like "where'd she go," or hopefully, "we miss you".

It'll be like college where you miss a class for so many weeks that you know the teaching assistant will single you out when you do finally show up that you end up dropping the class out of sheer embarrassment.

So please forgive me if you see me slinking around all the other blogs I follow anonymously, too lazy to even comment. Now please excuse Miss Lazybones while she orders the pre-cooked Thanksgiving dinner from Safeway.

Wednesday, November 12, 2008

The Domino Theory . . .

Please pardon the lengthy interruption. Whoever said it was the twenty four hour flu? More like 24/7. And like dominoes, when one kid falls ill, they all do. And in that final cruel twist of fate, Mom and Dad get sick just when the little munchkins are back to running around at full energy.

Although having my very own posting famine is very blogger-like of me. They should have some kind of guide for bloggers, like the five or whatever stages of grief. So instead of denial, anger, blah blah blah, you could have enthusiasm, where you post three times a day at the start; writer's block, where you can't think of anything to say and go weeks at a time without a post; anger, where you threaten to turn on comment moderation because some lurker thinks your thighs look fat; suicide, where your anger makes you threaten to delete the entire blog and hope that there are enough readers out there that care enough to make you change your mind; and acceptance, where you just slog through your life and try and put something interesting up on the web every couple of days.

Don't worry - I won't be posting cute kitten pictures anytime soon. I haven't reached the acceptance stage yet.