Monday, February 16, 2009

And Now A Word From the Old Man . . .

Hi all - Mike here. I know my name is up there on the masthead, but my contributions so far have been nil. But since Angie is hard at work contemplating the bathroom wallpaper for her next post (don't ask), I thought I'd fill in for a post of my own, and respond to a tag from ASM.

1. First French kiss?
16. Yes, a classic late bloomer. Please don't make fun of me; I was awkward enough as it is. So a friend and I had this awkward double date at Pizza Hut, and I dropped him and his date off first, and I nervously walked my date to her door. God bless her, she took pity on me and opened her mouth and showed me what all the fuss was about. I was hooked - until the next week, when she was making out with some other guy at one of those basement parties we used to frequent in high school. (If you want to understand the time and place I come from, you must rent Freaks and Geeks.) I was crushed. Until a few weeks later, when I finally got to make out with a girl at one of those parties.

2. First boyfriend/girlfriend. Real girlfriend, as in dated for longer than a few weeks? Linda. My God - very pretty Italian girl I befriended in college. But what a temper. For a long time, I tended to confuse anger and jealousy with love and affection. I know better now. But sometimes, now that I'm safe in a stable, loving marriage, I like to reflect on all that drama - the accusations, the arguments, her chasing me around our apartment with a claw hammer . . . oh wait a minute. Maybe I don't miss it all that much.

3. First type: Cheerleader/athletic girls have always turned me on. I only wished they had loved me as much as I did them. Though I must admit that my own dear Angie is quite a fit and athletic specimen in her own right, with a bit of an All-American, wholesome girl-next-door face thrown in for good measure.

4. First time you had sex.
Like our dear ASM's own Hubman, I was a twenty year old virgin. Can you believe it was with a Helen? She was a very plain Jewish grad student, working on a master's in Hindu Culture or something, with her own apartment. And she was a virgin too. And I am now admitting that I lied to her, and pretended that I was experienced, and she thought that I would be a good candidate to rid her of her unwanted virginity. It was actually pretty good, for both of us I think. For a couple months after that, I would pretend to go to the library to study, when I was secretly going over to her house for some interpersonal studies. And stupidly, I broke up with her by pretending to get back together with an old girlfriend. I think it worked out for the best for her - I called her for a booty call (not that that was what we called it back then), and she curtly informed me that she was seeing a nice Indian boy. I totally deserved it. Now I see where Angie gets her Kumar fantasies from. Gotta love the Kama Sutra.

5. First celebrity crush.
Probably someone like Karen Valentine on Love, American Style, or Mrs. Brady on the Brady Bunch. Gawd, I'm old.

6. First sexual fantasy.
Second grade. Not really so sexual, but I would fantasize about rescuing one of the three girls that everyone in class liked (Sandy, Laurie, or Julie) from some frozen mountaintop.

7. First person you fell in love with.
See Linda, above in number 2.

8. First proper sex toy.
Oh, it was deeply improper, but it was an electric toothbrush. My God, I would just hold that thing alongside my hard little shaft, and it was like turning on a garden hose, with semen spraying everywhere. To all the rest of my family, I now apologize for using the family toothbrush in such a depraved manner. Really, in the future, teenage boys should just be moved to a secure, plastic-covered, magazine-equipped location where they can just masturbate for about three years until they get it out of their systems.

9. First porn video. Don't really remember. Maybe at some stupid kid's house when I was nineteen, and this awkward guy was trying to impress some equally awkward teen girls with how "adult" he was. Never really been turned on by video much, unless of course, it's authentic amateur porn. That means bad lighting, unshaven pubes, no silicon, no collagen, and no tatts (no offense to my dear sweet ex, Catherine). If there's even a hint of professional production about it, I won't even bother.

10. First sexy lingerie item/sexy briefs owned.
Okay, I wore one of my sister's sleek one-piece bathing suits to a Halloween party once in college. I must say, with my water balloon breasts, I looked damn fine. With a nice blond wig, I looked like a slender six foot Amazon wench. I've never really been into the whole cross-dressing thing, but I KNOW there were more than a couple guys licking their chops at the sight of me. Now I know how a stripper feels at a bachelor party.

11. First time giving oral.
College, sophomore year. Met an equally awkward girl making prank phone calls to other dorms (oh, the days before caller ID). We got to talking, had a date, and went back to her dorm. Now this was a very sweet, relatively devout Catholic girl, but she had this voracious curiosity to explore her sexuality. She was a bit on the plain side, but she had this lovely athletic figure (see above), and we had this very playful evening of her flexing her very toned calves and thighs for me. It didn't take much for me to convince her that it would be even better for her to model for me in the nude. And when I saw her lovely black bush (yeah, I like a little fur down there), I felt my mouth being inexplicably drawn to that crease between her legs. It tasted yummy, and I was hooked.

12. First time getting oral.
Same girl, different date. Back seat of a '77 Mercury Cougar. We had this very unusual conversation of how she was going to dispose of my semen when I came. After searching frantically through the backseat garbage, I came up with an old envelope from a utility bill. She had a beautiful mouth, but my mind was so busy thinking about how I was going to stop, pull out, and then direct my penis into this envelope that I ended up losing my erection. Also my first time experiencing ED (and last, fuck you very much, to all those stupid Viagra and Cialis commercials).

13. First orgasm given by someone else.
Jeanie, my lovely geology major. Now that girl could suck the crust off of a geode. Such a sweet and beautiful face, and this sturdy Scandinavian body, with lovely little breasts. After the envelope mishap, I was determined to unload in this girl's mouth, and since I knew from a friend who dated her that she loved to swallow, I felt no anxiety about announcing my impending orgasm. Maybe the idea of sharing a girl with my friend factored somehow into my psychology. But that's a story for another day.

14. First one night stand.
Jill, my real live English nanny. As a young slacker in Chicago, I spent a LOT of time in the bars. I found all this out later from her, but apparently she was nearing the end of her year in the States, and was determined not to leave without fucking an American boy. This particular night was the night she chose, and she spent a good three or four hours letting me and some other young man from the bar try to win her favor. I was clever enough to push him out of the picture by spiriting her away to a house party I knew of, and it was game over for him. An hour later, she was slipping a condom over my hard-on, and I was slipping my cock into this dead-ringer for a young Anjelica Huston. You know, I have to admit, it was a HUGE turn-on to fuck someone that you didn't even know that afternoon. Really, you're in between her legs, with your DICK in her! Crazy!

15. First dirty book/dirty mag read.
Penthouse, of course. If I could ever find a therapist that would humor me and my dirty fantasies, I would love to explore the effect that reading Penthouse letters when I was twelve turned me on to fantasizing about watching my wife when I grew up.

Okay, I'm not very good with this tagging stuff (never could use a spray paint can, haha), but I tag Rachael Ray. Mmm - love her.

Monday, February 9, 2009

Frisky . . .

Mike and I got out for a little adult time on Saturday. And a little ADULT time, too!

After leaving the kids with their grandparents, we went into the city to meet another couple for a small dinner party at their loft, where we also would be staying the night. It's a nice change - Mike's not a big drinker, but sometimes, it does get old, being the designated driver all the time, so it was relaxing for him to be able to drink along the with the rest of us.

And drink we did. Not crushing hangover-style binge drinking, but enough to loosen up everybody's tongues. With only us, our hosts, and one other couple, it was just the right size get-together to be able to hear everyone talk without shouting over the roar of the party. And when you are able to hear everyone talk, it seems like people are able to be a little more intimate in what they're talking about.

No, there were no major revelations, no one came out of the closet and admitted that they were swingers, but we did talk very frankly about what turns us on and off in the bedroom, which is really refreshing. It's not too often that you can truly talk about this subject with people you know, and who know you, very openly. Which is silly, because sometimes, the best people to turn to for advice on some of these subjects should be the people that know you best. So it was nice to be able to talk about the things we find exciting, and find that we're not too different than the rest of our friends.

And after the other couple left, and our hosts made up the futon for us, we turned out the lights and settled in for the night. I haven't slept on a futon since I was in college, but something about it kind of turned me on. Maybe I was remembering all those different boys that I used to seduce in my studio apartment, or maybe it was all the racy talk, but I was horny, and I couldn't keep my hands off Mike.

He was a little reluctant at first. Not that he was too drunk, cause he wasn't. Just a little shy, since this loft was pretty much an open plan layout. There was a kind of a partial wall separating the bedroom area from the living area and the futon, but it wasn't really designed for privacy.

But after Mike and I heard our hosts whispering, and then grunting a little bit, and then very quietly moaning (like we couldn't hear them!), I reached over and felt his hard-on. And when I felt it, I wasn't going to waste it, or let him wiggle out of this, so I threw my leg over his waist and straddled him.

We were whispering to each other as I slowly slid up and down him, trying to be quiet, and just kind of giggling a little, when we heard footsteps on the creaking floor, and then we saw the bathroom light go on.

We both must have looked up, because our hostess, who was silhouetted in the bathroom door, whispered an apology. "Sorry - hope we didn't wake you guys just now," she said, and then she just kind of stood there for a moment, watching us.

Mike and I both laughed. We were just covered by a thin sheet, and even in the semi-darkness, she could tell that I was straddled over him and moving, so we really didn't make a pretense of trying to hide what we were doing.

"No," I said, "you didn't wake us, but you did kind of inspire us."

It took her a minute, then it dawned on her. "Omigosh - you guys are having sex! I'm so sorry," she whispered loudly.

"When you gotta go, you gotta go," said Mike. "Don't worry about us."

"No really, sorry," she said again. "This is kind of weird. I mean, I don't think I've ever actually talked to anyone while they were having sex. Like, I'm standing here all weird, and you guys are probably thinking, 'leave already', and I'm just babbling." But she still stood there, flustered maybe, not really moving.

I kept moving my hips the whole time. I was really turned on by the whole exhibitionist-thing going on with our friend standing there. I think she kind of realized that we weren't going to stop at this point, and maybe seeing me moving on top of Mike broke her out of her trance. "So, uh, okay, I really should get out of your hair." She went into the bathroom. "I'll be done in a minute. Carry on, or whatever, I guess."

We did. Mike and I heard the toilet flush a few minutes later, and the door open, and the creaking as she tiptoed back to her bed. And just as she was walking past us again, I could sense Mike smiling beneath me as he whispered loudly to her, "sweet dreams, Sherry."

That got a nice little giggle out of her, and a minute later, we were finishing up ourselves. Mmmm.