Dark Trails

A Message For Sulpicia

2011-01-25T21:41:00.000-08:00

Ms. Sulpicia of Sulpiciav3

You Win, I Lose. I am just simply tired of asking for you to do what is morally right to do. I am tired of repeating myself against your stubbornness. I am tired of trying to communicate my side to you when you simply refuse to acknowledge anything.

This is a complete and final end. You won’t get a chance to apologize for taking advantage of me the way that you did. You won’t get to apologize for lying to me. You won’t get to apologize for the broken promises. You won’t get to apologize for anything you ever said or did.

You will not be forgiven for lying to me. You will not be forgiven for taking money from me that you knew you never had a right to take. You have always known that I sent you money for the plane ticket. You have always known you used that ticket to travel to Mexico for your own personal vacation while my son and I were left to struggle financially. It doesn’t matter now what you change your story to say. I know the truth that you always knew what that money was for.

The remainder of your life, you will live with telling the lies that you told. The remainder of your life, you will live with the knowledge that you hurt someone so deeply that he was left collapsed emotionally. The remainder of your life, you will live with the knowledge that that same man hates and despises you every bit as much as you claim to hate your first husband.

The remainder of your life, you should know that the people who know me and care about me were shocked that anyone could treat me the way that you did. You should know that some of those same people hate and despise you even more than I do because of what you did to me. You should always know that I am not the only person who strongly believes you are morally bankrupt.

You will not have the opportunity to change that. When it comes to my friends and I, you will not have the opportunity to ever again say that you are a decent person. You will never have the opportunity to say that you have a kind and caring heart.

If I could have filed a lawsuit against you to recover that money, I absolutely would have. I truly believe you became low-life scum because of that action. You will never have the chance to change that perception of you. You will never know a moment in your life where I feel you had any entitlement to that money.

It doesn’t matter what you tell yourself. It doesn’t matter how many friends tell you differently. It does not matter what other people tell you. The real truth is that it was because of you that I collapsed emotionally. The real truth is that you are a person who did lie to me. You are a person who displayed no compassion of any sort to what I felt and what I went through. You will be that person for the remainder of your life. You will be that person in the afterlife. It is something that you cannot change now.

You cannot change it because you win through your stubbornness to try in any way shape or form to be a better person. You win because you refuse to show real integrity in regards to this money. You win because you lowered yourself to changing stories and telling lies. You win because I am tired of asking you to be a decent person. I am tired of asking you to do what is morally right. I am tired of asking you to give consideration to my thoughts and feelings.

At this end, you win. I strongly doubt you have won what you truly want. I strongly doubt you have won what you need. I doubt this win will leave you feeling the arousal you felt upon signing over the paperwork on the house with your second husband. I doubt you will feel the same arousal you felt on winning the legal battle with your first husband.

I have no doubts there will be times you will lay awake at night with the angry words going through your mind. I have no doubts you will lay awake with the recriminations playing again and again. I have no doubt you go through wondering what went wrong and why things couldn’t have been better. It does not matter how many sleepless nights you go through. I won’t be there, ever. I won’t tell you anything will be alright. I won’t tell you that anything can be repaired. I won’t tell you that you are forgiven. I won’t tell you I would want to be friends or stay in contact.

It will end. It will be final. You will have to live with the scars you created for the rest of your life. You will live with the person you truly were, and that person was very ugly through and through.

I truly hope you find your win at least as bitter for you to accept as the loss is for me to accept. Among so many men in the world, I truly never deserved the way you treated me. I truly never deserved to be lied to. I truly never deserved for you to take advantage of my kindness and integrity so that you could have more enjoyment in your vacation. In the end, I never deserved to have someone like you to come in my life to hurt me emotionally and financially. This is your win Ms. LeTourneau

The Liar - Buyer Beware

2011-01-20T20:06:00.001-08:00

The entire world should know that Sulpicia, writer of Sulpiciapastfuture and Sulpicav3 blogs is a liar.

The entire world should know that she does not have a shred of human decency.

She is a woman who took advantage of a man within months of him losing his wife to long term illness. She took money from him which she admittedly used indirectly toward her vacation to Mexico.

She is a woman who knew for months, maybe as much as a year that she had hurt him deeply, and yet she did nothing.

She is a woman who learned that she caused him to endure an emotional collapse, and yet she did nothing.

He sent her a full heartfelt apology. She replied by telling him she hoped he would get over his issues and his shit.

After more than a year, they did try to talk. She said she apologized for hurting him, but then went on to say she did not have to apologize for anything she said, or anything she did. What then, did she apologize for? What is the value of her apology if she is so certain she did nothing wrong? What is the value of her apology when it took 13 months for her to say anything? When she knew beyond a shadow of a doubt what she had done to him.

I wish every one of her friends really knew what a despicable example of a person she truly is. I doubt she would have many friends left if they knew her for what she really is.

I wish every man in the world (especially Canada, especially in or visiting the Northwest Territories) could know what her ex-husband and I know. We know that she is unworthy of a relationship with any man. She will tell people that she is not controlling, but you better do exactly what she says, exactly when she says it, and exactly the way she wants it done or she will be sure to make sure you pay dearly.

I wish that people would give her (and others like her) their voice of disapproval and let her know that there is nothing acceptable about her behavior. There is nothing acceptable about treating people badly just because they don’t do what you tell them to do. There is nothing acceptable about lying to people. There is nothing acceptable about taking advantage of a person going through grief in the loss of a spouse. I guess it won’t really happen that way though. She is just smart enough and willing to lie enough to make people think she is the victim.

I guess if getting away with abusing someone emotionally makes one a victim. Then she is a victim. If taking money from someone who is emotionally distraught makes a person a victim. Then she is a victim. If using men only for her own self serving purposes makes someone a victim, then she is a victim. Otherwise, she is only a liar who refuses to acknowledge what she has done wrong to others in her life.

I used to think her ex-husband was a true cad for asking for a divorce from her while she was recovering from neck surgery. I understand now. When she first left, he felt like a weight had been lifted from his shoulders and he realized that she was that weight. That she was crushing him as surely as a mountain would. He was so suffocated that he had to be free from her. He couldn’t bear the thought of spending another day with her, and so he did what he had to do in order to get free from this woman who had nearly ruined the man that he truly was.

I wish her parents could know everything she did. I wish they could know all of the lies. I wish they could know all of the torment her ex-husband went through. I wish they could know how she used and took advantage of a man within months of him losing his wife. Then they could know they completely failed in raising in a decent human being. They could know that what they raised is a liar who has no remorse about taking advantage of decent men.

There is a reason she had that smackdown last summer where she was told angrily that she didn’t know how to love. Once again, another man has learned the harsh lesson of what a horrible person she is.

As for what she lied about. She said her cell phone bill went up just over $1000 due to calls between her and I. She used silence to lie about taking money from me that indirectly funded her trip to Mexico. When I asked for it back, she told me the cell phone bill was over $3000. Is there anything she ever said that could be the truth? I don’t think so, once a liar, always a liar. Is that enough proof? Probably not. Ok, look at the broken promises. She promised to communicate. She stopped communicating. She promised to not be controlling. She expected me to do exactly what she wanted and stopped communicating because I didn’t (what I did was keep trying to communicate with her). She promised to treat me well. She treated me like crap, which led to my emotional breakdown. She promised to be honest with me beyond normal. She failed completely in that promise.

Right now that woman has no redeeming qualities. It is my sincere hope that she never enters into another relationship with a man. I sincerely hope there is not another man on this earth who has to endure her as myself, her ex-husband, and so many others already have. It is my sincere hope that the truth about her excessively ugly nature becomes revealed to all of her friends and that they know her for what she truly is.

The woman who uses (or used) the handle Sulpicia has no redeeming qualities. Maybe she wants to be a good person, but she has a lot of work to do in order to be anything resembling a good person. She has a lot of making up to do to all the men she has willingly and knowingly hurt without any signs of remorse. I know I am not the only one. For me, returning the money that she has absolutely no right to keep would be a huge sign toward showing that she is capable of basic human decency.

Maybe the only woman any man should ever trust is a prostitute. At least they are honest enough to admit to a man that they will fuck him for his money.

Good Bye Steel Horse

2010-12-02T12:32:00.000-08:00

That is what he looked like at the dealership where I found him. Well, in person, he looked much clearer, but I didn't have my good camera with me.

I didn't make a good decision financially that day. But I still got that steel horse.

Today I contacted the creditor and we are making arrangements for them to come and pick him up. I don't know how much longer I will get to keep him, but there is nothing I can do to change what will happen.

I will get a new steel horse at some time in the future. Of that I am certain. I will make a better financial decision between now and then, and I will make a much better decision when I get to that point.

For now, I find myself wondering if I should still call myself The Steel Horseman. I have already made a decision to move away from blogspot. As I mentioned a post or two ago, I no longer wish to be "stalked". I won't tell the "stalker" or her friends where to find me. Since at least one is a friend of mine, I guess that would not make me a good friend. So it will be.

Looking forward. I will contact, through email, everyone who I know reads this blog regularly. I will let you know where to find me. If I miss anyone, please leave me a comment and a means to contact you, and I will be sure to let you know where to find my new blog. I promise, it will be much sexier than this one became.

The Door

2010-11-28T11:40:00.001-08:00

It may be time to close the door here and open another door (or window) elsewhere. I am working on rebuilding, and for my loyal readers and more, I will provide an update on where to find me.

First 3some story

2010-11-24T20:12:00.000-08:00

I have some really awesome sex stories that I have written here. Unfortunately it has been too long since I have written one. Also, unfortunately, I have been remiss in sharing about any of the threesomes I have engaged in. So now I will correct that and share a very memorable night with MP and DG. Memorable to me because it hit on lust taking over and pushing us to cross lines we had previous said we would not cross. When it was all done, we agreed we would not regret anything that had happened.

I had been with MP on a few occasions. It wasn’t exclusive between her and I. I was at one of those points in my life of not desiring an exclusive relationship. There was just too much fun to be had, and too many women yet for me to experience.

I knew DG through MP, and it started as an unspoken agreement that she and I would not get involved because MP was with me first. It was one thing for me to see other women MP did not know, quite another to have sex with women she did know. There was definitely an attraction though, and in the course of that growing attraction, we agreed verbally to not be involved with each other.

One night the three of us were hanging out at my place. We rented and watched a cheesy science fiction movie (the best kind of course). We drank mixed drinks and go drunk through the course of the movie.

Each woman sat on either side of me. MP was so clearly aroused and just kept getting more aroused (it really wasn’t because of the movie, I swear). I could feel her arousal in waves, and every drink just seemed to make her more aroused and more bold. I could feel DG’s presence so very clearly on my other side. I am sure I was feeling her arousal as equally as MP’s. Every time either one of them moved, it was like their hot skin against mine, yet we were all dressed.

Every time I inhaled, I could smell their scent. I was going out of my head with lust. We all three were. I didn’t know what was going to happen, but the sexual energy all three of us were giving off was incredibly intense. It was amazing that any of us knew anything at all about what was happening in the movie.

But eventually that movie came to an end. It was the only one we had, so regular TV was put on, and not a one of us was interested in watching. DG went to the little girls room (when I go there, it becomes the big boy room), and I didn’t waste a moment. I turned to and kissed MP soundly, my hands rubbing her through her clothes. She gave back as much and as good as she was getting. I definitely was not wrong about how aroused she had become, and how uninhibited the alcohol made her feel.

DG (bless her beautiful heart) took extra time to allow me and MP to make out and do some heavy petting. She might have been playing voyeur and enjoying the show we were putting on, I don’t know for certain. She did “make noise” to let us know she was returning. MP and I were too far gone though. We stopped kissing, and MP laid on her back on my old couch. DG sat on the edge beside me (not much room left). I allowed my hand to slide between MP’s legs and rubbed her pussy through her jeans. She gladly accepted my touch, enjoying what I was doing to her body.
I couldn’t ignore the presence of DG beside me though.

“I am going to kiss her.” I said loudly enough and clearly enough for MP to understand. She responded, “Ok.”

Maybe it was how aroused she was, maybe it was being kind of drunk, and maybe she was just stunned. Whatever it was, DG did not stop me from turning her head to mine and kissing her soundly on the lips. At first she accepted my kiss, but in moments she returned my kiss and our tongues were intertwined in a dance of erotic pleasure. I had my hand on MP’s pussy, teasing her delightfully, while I had DG’s lips and tongue to play with. I was really in heaven with lust and pleasure.

I tried to pull DG close to my body so I could feel more of her against me. I pressed harder against MP’s pussy, sending more and more thrills of pleasure into her. Somehow, the sexual energy and intensity increased even more. I think the intensity of the kiss was affecting MP, and the intensity of my hand between her legs was affecting DG, and both of them were infecting me
with a state of lust that had to have release.

The couch was not comfortable for us to go further. So the three of us went to my bedroom where we could all three fit on my bed (lucky for me it was big enough to accommodate us). We talked first. All three of us acknowledged that we had been drinking, and we all three agreed then that no matter what happened, there would be no regrets and nothing would be held against anyone else.

MP and I were quickly out of our clothes. DG was still uncertain because she didn’t want to cause problems or regrets. I was on my knees on the bed, DG was beside me. MP looked at me and said “I want you to cum. I want you to cum for me. Kiss her and cum for me.”

She took my cock into her mouth, giving me the pleasure she was very good at. I pulled DG tightly against me and I kissed her with all of my mouth, tongue, and lust. She returned that kiss with as much of her body, mouth, tongue, and lust as I gave. I could feel her trembling against me.

I couldn’t cum though. The mixture of drinking and the excitement of being with both of them and not wanting it to end was too much. I also noticed I was getting tired from holding my body up when I had been drinking as much as I did.

We shifted and I laid on my back. MP went back to sucking my incredibly hard cock. DG laid beside me and kissed me passionately. I managed to get her shirt and bra off between kisses.

DG paused kissing to watch MP sucking my cock. MP noticed and paused, “Do want to try it?”

My cock twitched with the anticipation of DG’s lips and tongue pleasuring me. DG didn’t answer verbally. She simply moved down toward my cock. MP held it for her, and I felt the incredible thrill of DG doing something we had said we would not do. I felt my cock slide between her lips. I felt her tongue against the sensitive flesh, and the thoughts racing through my head were driving me insane with pleasure. I still couldn’t let myself cum though. This simply had to last.

MP took DG’s place kissing me. I could feel the heat of her lips and tongue where she had been on my cock. I could smell my musky scent on her face, and enjoyed how erotic it was to know she had just been sucking me and now DG was sucking me. She only kissed me for a bit though before returning to my cock. Instead of moving DG out of the way though, she took my balls into her mouth and also licked the base of my cock where DG could not reach.

I thought for sure I would not be able to stop myself from cumming then, but somehow I did. Somehow I didn’t let the pleasure stop, somehow I didn’t cum. Despite all that the two women did to my cock, I didn’t cum.

MP finally decided she needed some attention for herself. She left DG with the pleasure of sucking my cock, and moved to straddle my face so she could enjoy the pleasure of my tongue.

I was more than obliging. I sent my tongue between the extremely wet lips of her pussy. I tasted her. I pushed my tongue into her pussy, feeling the muscles try to grab my tongue as if to pull it in deeper. I pulled my tongue out so I could suck her clit between my lips. My arms wrapped around her thighs, holding her tight against my face.

DG shifted as well. She moved to straddle my cock, and rubbed my cock against her pussy through her pajama pants and panties. If only I could have gotten her completely undressed, I would have felt her wet pussy rubbing against my cock. I wonder if lust would have pushed her to the point of sliding down onto me.

As I felt the cotton rubbing against my cock, and I imagined the look on DG’s face as she looked at my cock so tantalizingly close to her pussy, I felt MP tense. I felt her impending orgasm and I pushed my face tighter against her pussy. I grabbed her legs tighter and squeezed her thighs to hold her in place. She came on my face. Leaning forward to support herself on the wall. I tasted her cum, and licked it as thoroughly as I licked her clit, teasing her into a continuous orgasm.

She couldn’t take much of me flicking her now very sensitive clit and she really wanted to be filled. She still needed more. Shakily, she slipped off of my face. DG moved as if guilty for rubbing her pussy against my cock. MP was clear about her intentions to have me inside of her, and DG went back to her role of allowing her to have me.

My tongue was now free again. I watched MP slide down onto my cock. Her wet pussy easily engulfing my incredible hardness. She placed both hands on my stomach, letting her nails lightly scratch my skin as she enjoyed the pleasure of my cock filling her.

Despite the pleasure of her pussy surrounding my cock, I had enough mind to convince DG to shed her pajama pants and panties so she would be as naked as MP and I, then straddle my face. Despite the threesomes I had enjoyed, this was the only time I got to enjoy the pleasure of tasting two women back to back. I immensely enjoyed the subtle differences between the two women. Such as the slight difference in the softness of their skin, the slight difference in how their body felt as they straddled my face, and especially the difference in how they tasted. They both tasted sweet, but like comparing two brand name candy bars, they were both sweet and still tasted different.

MP took in the pleasure of riding me, while DG experienced the pleasure of my tongue for the very first time. I gave her the pleasure of tasting her juices straight from her pussy. I gave her the pleasure of sucking her clit between my lips while teasing the tip with my tongue. Quickly she was leaning on the wall while she fought to hold back the orgasm threatening to overtake her body.

I felt MP lean forward. I could sense her caressing DG’s back. Letting DG know it was ok to enjoy all of us having sex like this.

I felt MP cum again. I could feel her pussy squeezing my cock as its muscles throbbed around me. I could feel her nails from one hand digging into my skin. I imagined the other hand was on DG’s back and her nails were digging into DG’s skin.

DG came next. The orgasm she had held back couldn’t be denied any longer. Her entire body clenched with the tension from holding back her orgasm. When it released, she could only gasp and breathe while her body shook uncontrollably above my face. I held in place just as I did with MP.

When her orgasm finally subsided, she slid away from my face and laid on the bed just twitching and glowing.

MP had a very pleased smile on her face after watching DG have such an intense orgasm. “It’s your turn now.” She said while looking at me directly in the eye.

We switched positions and she laid down so I could fuck her. We both knew DG loved to watch sex and we knew she would enjoy watching us fuck right in front of her.

I was ready to let it go now. I had pleasured two women, and my cock was aching for release. MP was still incredibly wet and I slid into her easily. She definitely wasn’t done though. I easily drove her to another orgasm as I my cock slid easily in and out of her pussy.

DG recovered from trembling and began caressing my back. Her hand slid down my spine, over the curve of my pumping ass, and down between my legs. She took my balls into her hand, so close to where my cock was sliding into MP, that I am sure she could feel the wetness of MP’s pussy and my cock at the same time.

It was more than I could take and my orgasm overtook me. I thrust hard into MP. DG squeezed my balls gently. MP came with me. I can’t even remember what happened in that orgasm because it overtook me so thoroughly. I can only remember MP digging her nails into my arms, and DG squeezing my balls as if to squeeze every bit of cum out of me and into MP.

I think I collapsed after I finished cumming so hard. Everything is now a blur. The next clear memory I have is being snuggled up between these two gorgeous and wonderful women, drifting off to sleep.

The next morning we kept our agreement, no one regretted anything we had done. There was no jealousy and no anxiety, and DG and I went back to our agreement we had before that night.

Follow This Blog

2010-11-23T17:34:00.000-08:00

According to my Blogger information, there are 31 people who are following this blog. Which is pretty interesting. I can go click on the little images and quickly find my way to their blogs.

I didn't count how many blogs I am following. Not quite 31 though. Maybe that means I have been remiss in following blogs. In truth, what really matters is that I go to blogs and actually read what the writers have to offer. Maybe even leave a comment or two.

I did learn something about blogger than I am not all that fond of though.

You can follow a blog privately or anonymously. What that means, is that I could have more than 31 followers (and I know that I do) and I wouldn't know about it.

Really, that shouldn't be a big deal, right? Well here is why it is kind of a big deal to me. By following this blog, a person can read all that I write using this thing called Google Reader. They don't have to visit this blog to actually read what I have written. I go through the trouble of using a sitemeter to allow me to see who my visitors are, and someone can get around that by never visiting my blog, but still getting to read what I wrote.

So what happens if you would like for someone to not read your blog unless they are going to read it openly? Well, if they are following privately, you can't do anything about it. If someone follows your blog openly (like the 31 mentioned), you can go in and "block" them from following your blog. But if someone does it privately, nothing you can do about it. You can't block them from following because you don't even know they are following your blog.

So for anyone out there who might be worrying about stalkers. Guess what? Google (blogger) made it totally easy for someone to play the part of a stalker and you would never know about it. The only thing you can do is make your blog private and pick and choose who is allowed to read. The downfall of going private is that you won't get any new readers, because they won't see what you have written and have the chance to decide they want to read more.

So I am now trying to get word to Google (blogger) to remove this stalker loophole. There is a chance that someone would make their blog private if they were worried about someone they know reading their blog, and this loophole gives people a way to get around that. Owners of blogs should have every opportunity to use tools to know who is reading what they wrote, in case they want to make changes to their blog as a result of who is reading.

In the end. I know this about my blog. I DO NOT want anyone stalking me and reading my words in a way that I can't know about it. If anyone is going to read what I wrote, then I really want them to do it in a way that I can see that I had a visitor. Now that I know it happened to me, I find that I really do not appreciate it, and I really do not appreciate how it was done behind my back.

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Update: If you use blogger (as this blog does), you can go into the settings, under the settings tab, select Site Feed, then there is an option for Allow Blog Feeds. This option can be set to 'Full' (mine was), Short, or none. With full, the blog can be read privately without anyone knowing. In the short option, they can only read the first paragraph (or first 255 characters whichever is shorter). With none they cannot read anything and will have to actually visit your blog in order to read what is written. At least that is what I have been told so far. I'll update again if I learn anything new.

I know

2010-11-23T14:34:00.000-08:00

I know what love is. I suppose I could print out the stuff about love that can be found in the book of Corinthians in the Christian Bible. Lots of people have seen that before and I am actively choosing not to get all religious like in the blog.

What I really want to do with this post is to share that this is my personal experience about knowing what Love is. This isn't about words shared by someone else. This isn't about something that evokes a great deal of romanticism, or anything like that.

It is about something that is very real. Very natural, and very much here on this planet.

Should I tell you what Love is not? Those words may seem easy, but they really are not as easy to define as it would be for me to say what I know that Love is. But I do want to say a few things about what Love is not. Love is not something you simply say and it becomes so because you said it. It takes so much more than words to actually love a human being. You actually have to put some effort into it.

By way of example. You can say you love your child (assuming you have children). But to simply say it is meaningless. You have to give of yourself to that child. You have to give your time, your energy, your very effort to see that the child gets the care they need. We all know that in the beginning you have to feed them, transport them (because they can't walk), and provide them with shelter and all other needs (like changing dirty diapers). As they grow, the needs change, but as a parent there is no let up in providing for those needs. There is no let up in giving of yourself, your energy, time, and effort.

So a person who once told me that she loves me, but then followed up with, you guessed it, nothing. Is not a person I can say loves me. I once said in this blog that she probably does not understand what it means to love, and does not understand what it means to care about a person. She proves it by her words (and lack of words) and by her actions.

I digress. This is about me knowing what Love is. Why do I know what it is? Because I am loved. Because, aside from my family relationships (parents, children, siblings, etc), there are two women who really do Love me. Each of them has proven over and over that they are willing to give of themselves, to give me their time, their energy, and their effort to see to my well being. They will do whatever they can to remove anything that makes me unhappy, and provide whatever they can to bring me happiness.

They are both still very much real persons. They both desire to be loved in return. They both want time and energy and effort. They have times that their wants and desires for themselves override the wants and desires for another person. Like I said, it is very very real.

It doesn't just happen easily. It isn't all kinds of romantic. It is just real and natural and it is life and it is Love.

I do know what Love is. I doubt my feeble words written in this post give it any kind of justice. But I can honestly say that there are lots of people in this world who should know what Love really is.

Compartmentalized

2010-11-22T15:05:00.001-08:00

I think often every person has multiple selfs. Not in the sense of multiple personalities. In the sense that we can be like one kind of person with someone (or a group) and seem completely different with a different person (or group). For example. At work we may be very professional and careful about appearance and words. With friends we may go out get drunk without any care about appearance and just have fun.

I am compartmentalized. I have recognized this for some time. Not long ago, I took an aspect of me that I call the Dom and I closed him into a room within my mind. The reason for his being was not present, and thus he went into a place of hiding. Occasionally he was allowed to come out to offer me some of his thoughts and suggestions, but pretty much he stayed in his room (a room which looks remarkably like an unused dungeon for some reason).

If you have read all of the blog (and I think there are only handful who can claim that), then you know there has been a significant shift in the blog. There are always shifts. These things happen. It seemed to start with sex, but there was definitely something else there. It changed to something else again (an emotional item for me to deal with), and somewhere along the way the anger and pain I felt toward one person took dominance, and then it shifted away from that.

As I try to write out my thoughts. There are these quotes from TV shows that ramble through my mind. So I am going to share them.

From Star Trek (first series).
Scotty: There is an old saying. "Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me."

The other is from Buffy The Vampire Slayer.
Willow: (stops him) Oz, wait. Please?

He stops and reluctantly gives her his attention.

Willow: What I did... When I think that I hurt you...

Oz: Yeah. You said all this stuff already.

Willow: Right, but... I wanna make it up to you. I mean, if you let me,
I wanna try.

Oz: Just... You can leave me alone. I need to figure things out.

Willow: But maybe if we talk about it, we could...

Oz: Look... I'm sorry this is hard for you. But I told you what I need.
So I can't help feeling like the reason you want to talk is so you can
feel better about yourself. That's not my problem.

There really is a reason for those two scenes to be jumping around in my head. First we go back to the most recent shift. I shifted from the angry/hurt by one person to whatever it became now (still working on that). That was something that was over a year old. I realized back then, that she did use me. She says she didn't, but that is probably because she does not realize that she really did. Then we come to the present and I am aware now that she used me again. It was different this time though. She used me to feel better about herself and I allowed her to. So going to the first quote from Scotty. Shame on me.

I opened a door in my mind. I let the Dom come out of his room and into my mind. He had one specific purpose. To find that part of me that was weak and allowed her to get to me again. He found that part of me, he put it in chains, and he locked it into another room. That part of me is not there to be tortured. I have had enough of that. It is simply there to be cut off from me. To make sure I will not be troubled by it any further.

Recently I remembered exactly why I was so drawn to her, and why I wanted her so much as I did. Then I was reminded what it is about her that I do not like. I am going back to what I once said in a previous post. I do not believe she understands what love is, and I do not believe she really understands what it means to care about another human being.

I won't tell her not to read my blog anymore. She can hide in such a way that I would never know if she is reading. Maybe that is what she prefers.

For now, the Dom is back in his room. Probably reading a good erotic book. The weak one is wearing his chains and locked in his room. I doubt he will be allowed to come back out anytime soon.

Kissing

2010-11-19T12:05:00.000-08:00

Sometimes you just need a really hot Kiss.

There were a couple other elements about the video that definitely did not hurt my eyes.

Man's Antique Roadshow

2010-11-17T20:17:00.000-08:00

Me and my walk

2010-11-16T19:58:00.000-08:00

In my previous post I described that I went for a walk. My mind has pressured to me to discuss more about that walk and to share some of the experience. So in tribute to my mind which refused to leave me alone, here is more about that walk.

I walked through trees both old and young. I walked among trees fallen in what may have been an age past.

I stood on the side of a mountain.

I watched mist filter through trees and rocks.

I felt fresh rain fall on my skin. I stood among trees where I branches and leaves were so thick, the only rain I felt on my skin had been filtered through those branches and leaves.

I stopped to watch water falling gently over rocks, down hillsides, and through the path it had carved on its way off of the mountain.

In the bottom of the forest floor, darkness falls complete while twilight still reigns in the skies above. Lanterns and firelight cannot penetrate the darkness winding among the trees. Visions of glowing eyes enter the mind unbidden.

In the walk, in a time alone with only the native animals and the trees for company, I spoke out to God. I asked for help. I confessed my failings. I opened up about the anger and hurt which have consumed me. I sought his aid. I heard no answer. I turned to return to my point of origin. The path back looked so different than the path in. I lost my way. I was turned around without the aid of compass or other signs of the direction I needed to go.

I spoke to God of my anger and frustration. Why, after I had opened up, was I now lost in this forest? Help was a short distance away and I had the means to signal them. Maybe I was stubborn, because I chose not to send that signal. I knew when darkness would arrive. I gave myself time to get out of my circumstance. A specific time that would also allow help to get to me before darkness fell if it came to that point. I did not stop talking to God of my anger and frustration. I laid it out. The answer I got back was to rely on myself and find my way out of what I had gotten myself into.

I kept better track of my landmarks. I learned where I was. I found my way back to a spot I recognized on the path into the forest when I first started this day’s walk. I heard familiar noises. I went that direction even though my senses told me it was not the way I came in. In minutes I was in sight of my starting point. I was free in the forest. No matter how many more times I walked, I did not get lost.

God sent me the message to rely on myself and to get myself out of the mess I had gotten into. Through the course of this blog I have discussed my emotional turmoil of messes I have gone through. At this point I cannot rely on God, the Universe, or any other celestial bodies to aid me. It is on my shoulders to navigate out of the mess. And so I will.

I recognize there are some whom I would destroy if I had the means to do so. I would leave them without reputation, without wealth, and without family if it were in my power to do so. As far as I am concerned, it is what they have earned. I consider them without redemption. Time may someday change me and I won’t care. We will see, but for now I have life that I have to live and deal with.

I took the picture above from a friend (with permission). He said it was taken under natural light without flash or any other aid. I should ask sometime how it is that the wood looks blue.

Me

2010-11-14T17:13:00.001-08:00

I went for a long walk that lasted more than a week.

During my walk I stayed away from my computer, my cell phone, and anything else that would allow me to stay in contact with anyone. The only people I spoke with were people who were physically with me.

At times I had no one around me. I found myself standing out in natural surroundings without any walls. I found myself facing something I could not seem to face after so many months of struggling to face it. I found myself facing me.

I looked at my thoughts. I remembered what I had gone through. I thought about present, and I thought about future.

I recalled two posts, one posted before I took my walk and one scheduled to post while I was on my walk. I realized something. It’s not me anymore.

The man who had that fantasy was scarred and hurting, angry and bitter. In those negative emotions, he responded to a slight against him. He visited it in a fantasy world. In real life, he would never ever do something like what happened in that fantasy. But there was a world where he could visit and do something of that nature. There is a place where he could write it out and others could see it.

Writing is my means of dealing with things that I struggle with in my life. It became that way when I shared my home with someone whom I could not openly speak with. I found a voice in the blogging world. That blog is now closed, and this blog came to exist shortly after that one closed.

I do not have enough room or energy to describe what I went through in this post. I cannot describe what all I felt or all I thought. All I can say here for now is that I think I may have found a means to deal with the anger and bitterness I have been struggling with. I really hope I am right.

Foreign Fantasy II

2010-11-05T21:27:00.000-07:00

She does not have to work the next day. We take advantage of her being home to explore each other’s bodies more thoroughly. I learn what she likes rough, and what she likes gently. I push gently toward her boundaries. I push to learn her heights of pleasure. We take breaks to nap briefly, or to get something to drink, or just to wash off. When evening comes, I help her prepare a dinner of finger foods for us to share.

As we eat, I ask her if I may explore being more intense with her. She looks at me wonderingly. I explain that I would like to push the boundaries a little more and show her some things that I feel I am good at. I explain that since I don’t know her well enough yet to know all of her likes and dislikes, I am asking. We talk more, clarifying what I would like to do and what she truly feels comfortable with.

I start slowly and build her arousal. I tease her body in ways that I have not done yet. I spend nearly an hour touching her skin without touching her nipples or her pussy. When I do touch them, I am careful to keep her from having an orgasm. I push her nerves to the very edge while keeping her from having an orgasm. I touch her skin, bringing it to life. I tease and tantalize until I hear her panting and see her entire body squirming on the sheets.

Without any warning or indication of what I am going to do. With her eyes closes and legs parted, I move quickly and suck her clit between my lips. Drawing all of her sexual energy straight to her loins where I push back to her release. Sending her orgasm in strong waves back through the entirety of her body. Every muscles tenses, her fingers clutch the sheets so tightly they may rip, her back arches as she gasps out a strangled cry of release.

Before her orgasm can finish, I slide my cock into her. Sending new shockwaves of pleasure through her body, making her cry out once again. I take her body now, making it mine for my pleasure. I explained earlier that I would take my turn and now I am keeping that word. I drive into her with every thrust. I push deeply into her body, forcing my way all the way in so that her clit is squeezed between us. I use her body as the source of my pleasure, as if I can drive all of my body inside of her led by my cock. As if my mind is surrounded by the sweet pleasure of the walls of her pussy.

I forcefully release my orgasm into her. She arches her back again to meet me, willing my cum deeper into her body.

Sweating and panting, I nearly collapse onto her, but I restrain enough to make sure I am not crushing her or making it hard for her to breathe as she is sweating and panting under me. We don’t speak. We simply lay there, each trying to catch our breath, each just sharing the intensity of the moment with each other. No words are necessary. We can feel the satisfaction radiating from each other.

The next day we spend shopping. After teasing and asking I convinced her to allow me to cook dinner. I did insist she pick out a good wine to go with dinner since I really have no idea what is available.

I show off my culinary skills, as limited as they are, and prepare a very nice dinner. She is so relaxed, and so comfortable sharing her kitchen and table with me.

What follows is a given of course. We retire to the bedroom where I take charge of ravishing her body thoroughly. She has been wined and dined, and now she is getting everything she has gotten the last two days and more. She is teased and tantalized. Brought to the edge and held there as long as I can keep her there. She is brought to orgasm after orgasm.

Between the wine and the full attention of my exertions, when we are done she slips peacefully into slumber. I lay awake a few minutes longer listening to her breath. Part of me hates what I am going to do, but another part remains resolute. This was the point of the trip.

I awaken while it is still dark. While she is still sleeping. I trusted my body to wake me early enough and it did not fail me. I slip out of the bed quietly. Dress in the darkness. In the dining room, I leave the note on the table. The first words she may recognize. They are words they she wrote. The second words are my own. Letting her know that I was the man she wrote about when she left that comment in a public forum.

She will probably hate me for what I just did. For not telling her who I really was. Only part of me cares.

__________________________________________________________________

I have to add this addendum to this post. The person I was writing about is someone who is a very ugly person from the inside. I have spoken with her. I have seen her blog and she really is ugly from the inside. Not too long ago I saw a picture of her. I have come to know she is ugly from the outside as well. I have no doubts my cock would not be capable of rising to this fantasy. I don't even think a blind fold would help.

Foreign Fantasy I

2010-11-04T21:26:00.001-07:00

In the past year, my imagination seemed to grow. I do not know why it happened. But the fantasies I could create in my mind grew into things that seemed to have their own life. The levels of detail would make top movie producers proud of the imaginary work which happened within my mind. I guess that is enough of an introduction to saying that what I am about to write is a fantasy that was created in my own mind. Only some of it bears resemblance to reality.

I travel to a foreign land. I am on my own, playing the part of tourist and sightseer. I do have an agenda within my trip though.

I do not want to be the typical tourist though. I want to do something more interesting. Far more interesting. My trip takes me to a smaller community, one that is not frequented by tourists. I have only a small amount of knowledge of what I am looking for. That knowledge will have to be enough.

I spend my time at the book stores and the coffee shops. Places where I can easily blend in. It seems luck is with me. On my second day I find what I am looking for at a bookstore adjoined with a coffee shop. Next comes the hardest part of what I want to accomplish.

I have to move carefully. Almost stealthily in broad daylight. I get to where I hope I can accomplish what I want.

I succeed. She bumped into me, causing my books to fall out of my arms. Even one of her own books falls to the floor with mine. The timing was perfect. She has no way of knowing I was there on purpose, everything appeared that she had not payed attention and bumped into me. I apologize profusely as if it was my fault. I do this so that she can hear my accent. An accent I know she will recognize and know that I am not from her country. She is also apologizing.

We both kneel to pick up our fallen books. I catch her eye and smile and tell her that it is not worry, it was only an accident. She pauses and looks into my eyes, then returns the smile. I keep my eyes on hers and my smile glowing. While I look to see if she recognizes me. I do not see in her eyes or on her face that recognizes who I am.

I start to ask her something. I pause. She watches, waiting for me to say something. I blurt it out. I ask her if she would have a drink with me. I fumble my words a moment, allow my face to turn red and say I mean like coffee or something.

She laughs at my shyness and accepts my offer. We make arrangements to meet later in the afternoon, back in the coffee shop. I wait until she leaves before I return the books to the shelves. They aren’t the books I prefer for myself, I chose them only for her. As part of a means to seduce her mind.

She keeps the “date” and meets me back at the coffee shop. I am prepared to be something new to her. When she speaks I give her my attention. I keep looking at her eyes, to the point that she may wonder if I am at all interested in her body. When I speak, I talk of traveling (something I have done a lot of), and I talk of enjoying the freedom that life has given me. I present a world outside of this small community. I paint a world beyond the borders of her land, of Oceans and lakes, mountains and plains, and so much more.

The talking last so much longer than she meant for it to. The hours pass by and we both notice that we are growing hungry. I offer to treat her to dinner for taking up her time. She pauses, but chooses to accept. We walk a few blocks away to a nice restaurant I found earlier. In moments we are seated and the conversations continue.

Somehow, someway, through my manners and through the conversation, and through the attention I have lavished on her. She chooses to spend more time with me. Staying with me into the evening, and past sundown. In the artificial lights on the streets we find ourselves closer and I dare to kiss her lips. She responds. Hesitantly at first, but quickly lets go and kisses me back, wanting me to kiss her.

We find our way back to my room. I undress her seductively, removing her clothing between kisses. Keeping her mouth busy with mine while her clothes come away from her body and while my fingers tease her bare skin as each article slips away. We undress me at the same time, I let her hands touch me wherever they desire. I keep my mind open to learning her likes and dislikes. I study what she is doing, what she is responding to.

I tease and tantalize her skin. I take her with me onto the bed. I enter her with a meeting of both our need. It is passionate. It is sex that is basically need for sex. It takes only moments for her to orgasm, an orgasm that triggers my own. The quick intense high is followed by the quick drop back to earth. The wondering of whether or not it should have happened.

I caress her skin. I let her quietly think her thoughts. When she is ready to speak, she talks about how she should leave. I talk to her quietly, responding to her thoughts, letting her know she has nothing to worry about with me. Letting her know that I would not stop her. Letting her know that I found her mind and body both very intoxicating. I talk about how we met, and the books we dropped. I asked what she was buying.

We talk about the books. I caress her skin. We talk about plays and shows. I caress her skin. Her mind relaxes again. Her body responds. I take her slowly this time. Caressing her with sex the way my hand caressed her skin moments before.

She relaxes into me. Accepting the pleasure and casting fear aside. We whisper in the darkness. Just letting ourselves feel and be together.

We decide to spend more time together. She invites me to see where she lives. To show me the neighbors she complains about. To show me the cozy house, with her comfortable decorations. She feels nervous showing me where she lives. I give her a comforting light touch. I keep my voice and conversation light. Allowing her to relax into having me in her space. I continue to give her attention. I give attention to her eyes, to her words, and occasionally to her body.

She treats me to dinner. I express the appreciation for something fresh. She does come to relax, and allows herself to come into my arms. I give her the same gentle treatment as the night before. I treat her bed with respect, but I make sure I do all I can to provide for her pleasure. I kiss her body thoroughly. I caress her skin all over. I speed up or slow down to get the most vocal responses. I begin to sense that she is ready for more. To let loose the inhibitions more, but I do not give her that to her just yet. I save that for morning, or the next night.

Matter

2010-11-01T21:33:00.001-07:00

I matter! I suspect I have mentioned that once or twice in the context of this young blog. In all of the time I have been writing, there have been two dominating topics. One is sex! Woohoo!!!

The other is one woman with whom I expressed some rather dark thoughts. If I may be plain about it, I have expressed anger and hurt in regards to this woman. I have said cruel things about her and in regards to her. I have insulted her intelligence, made her seem less human (and less humane).

If I wanted to go on about what I have said, I would go back and read my own posts (and some of those posts have now been removed).

I apologize. To this woman I apologize. I already apologized to her by voice and by email before considering writing this post. I am choosing to apologize here (even knowing full well she would tell me it is not necessary) because here is where I said so much that was intended to (and did) hurt her.

That is one part of the story. The other part is that she apologized to me as well. Also by voice and by email.

The story is rather long and complex and simply more than I really want to put within this blog (at this time – I’ll reserve the right to write whatever shit I wanna). In short, over the course of the last thirteen or fourteen months, I sincerely questioned whether or not I mattered. I questioned whether or not what she and I went through meant anything to her or if it was only me.

I did say it many times that what I thought, and what I felt, and what I basically was as a person needed to matter.

In the meeting of our minds, and I’ll dare to even say our hearts. I have found that I always did matter to her. She had her reasons for not being able to show it. I never wanted to drive her away, but I did things which drove her away. That is something that too often happens in relationships and like so many I was unable to change or alter that course.

I do not have to ask for acceptance of my apology. She does not have to ask me to accept hers. I accept hers and I give trust she has accepted my apologies. I said before within this blog that I forgive her. I now feel that in my heart.

A weight that I have carried all this time has been lifted. One of three things that left me struggling to get through each day has been resolved. I hope the second of those three will be resolved very soon, and I guess I will just have to accept that the third one may never be resolved.

Sex Dream

2010-10-29T22:49:00.001-07:00

It has been a very long time since I have truly had a sleeping dream of a sexual nature. Yet last night I did. It was a very intense and powerful dream in which the images have stayed with me. I tried to capture the details because it is possible someone can interpret dreams and may share with me their thoughts about this dream. I would definitely be curious to hear other thoughts on this one.

At the beginning of the dream, I have a Geo Metro. For some reason it seems smaller than I know the car is in reality. I pulled it backwards through what seemed like a school area. There was an intersection with a planter or something of the sort in the center of the intersection. I went past it.

Then the scene repeated itself, and it felt like I just doing the same thing as before. Like it was natural. But when I got to the intersection, someone helped by pushing, for which I was grateful, but they pushed too much and my leg got caught between the car and the brick wall of the planter.

Some medics put a boot on my leg and foot to stabilize it and told me I needed to see a doctor.

The scene changes. I am at a park of some sort with CG and others we know (in the dream, I don’t recognize them otherwise). As we are there, I am resting against CG and keeping my foot still so that it does not hurt. The others we are with are gone, but there are lots of people there.

Then we see more and more women who are all wearing thongs. It is like they just came from a class or something. All of them have the shape and physical fitness of women who work out and do aerobics a lot. Even their asses which are on full display appear very muscular, yet still very womanly. Many of them kept walking as if they were leaving. Others stayed.

One that stands out to me is that there was a young girl. I would guess about 14 or 15 based on face and body shape. The woman she was next to I took to be her mother. Even the young girl was wearing a thong with nothing else covering her ass. She was looking around her with open curiosity and what might have been nervousness.

I turned away and realized there were more women near me. They were more like “normal” body types. Curves, some padding here and there. Differing ages, and so forth. They were being openly sexual, some masturbating, some masturbating others. Very wet orgasms, and they were so enjoying that open sexuality. They were so free and happy with just being in this park and being sexual. It went beyond a sexual need for gratification.

We (CG and I) moved to a different spot where we found even more sexual activity happening. Now there were men involved, there were more states of undress. The same freedom was there though. There were some young involved, and they were not being harmed. They were fully welcome and free as everyone else.

A woman came to me wearing only a shirt. I could tell by the wetness on her legs that she had been thoroughly enjoying herself. She definitely distracted me, and I could tell she would like to share sexual pleasure with me at that moment. She sat beside me and I reached between her legs to touch her pussy. The outside was very wet and slippery, but inside she was becoming dry and tight. As if her body had reached its maximum amount of pleasure it could handle, but she still wanted to continue.

I lost track of CG for a moment, but when I looked and found her, she was laying on her back with her legs open. She was also wearing only her shirt. A man was straddling her chest (wearing only his shirt) and he brought his cock to her mouth, where she willingly took it and sucked him.

The woman beside me got my attention again. We continued me trying to play with her pussy, to get her wet again, and to bring her to another orgasm. She decided that my hand wasn’t quite working and that we needed to do more. I thought of CG and told her that I needed to ask the woman I was with first. When I looked around, I did not see CG. I got up to go look for her, and then my cell phone buzzed with text messages.

I read them, all but one from CG. The only message I remember clearly was the message about getting a quickie. I knew she and most likely the guy she was sucking earlier were having their fun. It meant I would be allowed to do the same. As I turned back to the woman waiting for me….I woke up with my cock fully hard and fully wanting relief.

Changes

2010-10-28T15:57:00.001-07:00

I am working on something very specific with the goal of healing not one person, but two who need it very much.

I am one of those two persons.

I will do the very best that I can on this. If you have been reading since the beginning, then you truly know that I desperately need to heal.

If this succeeds. I will make some very specific changes in this blog. The first change will be that I will go back and remove certain posts. The second change will be to go back and edit certain posts.

After that. On the presumption that this anger which has consumed me has been dealt with. The very tone of my blog posts will change. Now that is something I look forward to.

So if you commented on a post that finds itself removed. Please do not take offense. I will freely admit that it will be selfish on my part to remove things that have been a source of pain, or a memory of that pain.

Identity

2010-10-28T09:15:00.000-07:00

I never identified who she was. Yet she pointed out my blog specifically for her readers. I never named her here so that anyone can find their way to her blog. Yet she put a link directly back to here.

She says that I hate her. I suppose that is possible. I don't know for certain. What I know for certain is that it has been about 13 months since I heard the sound of her voice. I know that it has been about that same amount of time since there was an actual conversation between her and I. I know in all that time she would not leave my thoughts. I know in all that time I did not stop hurting as a result of things she did and things she said. I know for certain that I hate the way she treated me last year in the month before she ended our relationship. I know for certain that I hate the way she has treated me since. I once thought she really was a good person with a good heart. I do not get to see that person at all and I hate that.

She told me that she talked with at least four people before she made a decision which hurt me so much that it left me collapsed as you can read about here. I believe in the concept of a fair and unbiased trial. Those four were people who knew her personally and knew nothing about me except whatever she shared with them. This means they were biased against me. Had she spoken to four people (at that time) who knew me but did not know her, they would be biased as well, and probably looked at her with a great deal of confusion. If she chose four people who did not know either one of us, and they were allowed the full story of what both she and I were going through, I believe her decision would have been different. I didn't get that fair trial, and I was very hurt before it even happened.

I was hurting before she collapsed my world. I was hurting because of personal factors in my life that were incredibly hard to deal with. And I was hurting because of her. I have no doubt that things were more complex than I can write about here. I know she was going through stuff and I was going through stuff. I was hurt because she chose to stop communicating with me. I was hurt because she was pushing me away without any explanations (it took 8 months to get anything that resembled an explanation). I was hurting in general and I felt abandoned (again).

Would I have intentionally hurt her before that collapse? No! I mean emphatically NO! If I did or said something that hurt her before that collapse, it truly was unintentionally because I SO did not want to hurt her in any way shape or form.

Have I knowingly and intentionally hurt her since then. Yes. Yes I have and I know I have. Going through pain and depression and anguish is very difficult for anyone. Imagine what it is like for someone who has no experience going through them. That was me. I had no idea what levels of depression, sadness, emotional pain, and even intense bouts with anger that I had to deal with. I honestly did not know how to deal with them. In periods of intense pain/anger combination, I did send emails that I regret. I also sent emails in which I tried (in vain) to get her to see my side of the story and what I felt as a result of things she said and did. I have posts here that I go back and read and I wonder if I am being fair.

Then I recall the things she wrote about me in her blog. Things that hurt so much more than I think she can imagine. Even now, having read the latest that she wrote. Knowing that she told me she would never read my blog (and yet she did), and seeing that she identified my blog, it hurts. I have come to believe that she will never make any attempt to communicate with me. To try and understand what I felt and what I went through, or give me any chance to understand what she felt and went through. To somehow find a way to apologize for those mistakes we both made (FYI, I actually tried to apologize once, she responded by telling me she hopes I get over my shit - that is not paraphrased, she actually said those words).

Maybe if she knew how much she hurt me through her blog, she would give real consideration to removing everything about me from her blog. I have expressed (multiple times) to her and others that I want to be removed from her blog (everything: posts, comments, links, just everything no matter who wrote it). I want the Vitriol that was directed at me to be removed. I want those past memories to be removed as if the pain of them could be removed as easily. I want her to be the person who stated that "All humans I interact with are treated with care and warmth. Sarcasm and Vitriol are self directed." She knows now that I am hurt by things she said in her blog. She knows that in her blog she did not treat me with care and warmth. I never made any statement about how I would treat others here. I only asked that comments be respectful. When the time comes that I am past her. I will remove her from this blog. If she were to ever make an effort in regards to me, something that would allow us to just move on. I would remove her from this blog. I honestly do not want to hold onto to that which has been hurting me. The hurting is still there and the posts are still there with it.

I know there will never again be any kind of a relationship between her and I. I have moved on enough that I won't go back. That doesn't stop me from wishing she and I could find a way to communicate. It doesn't stop me from wishing she and I could find a way to accept what the other went through. To find a way for both of us to make sincere apologies and find forgiveness for each other. In stupid fantasies I have, where such a thing happens, it is followed by her living her life where she is, and me living mine where I am, without much communication between us (maybe blog posts, maybe comments, maybe email, possibly hardly anything), and neither of us feeling the pain or anguish that we went through because of each other. In that fantasy communication is no longer is issue because things that needed to be resolved were resolved, so I see myself as not worried over whether or not there is any communication.

Perhaps that really is a stupid fantasy. Everything I have seen tells me it is impossible for it to happen.

Even with that. I will not link to her blog. I will not give her name or any identity she uses. There is only one person she and I mutually know with whom I still speak. I do not speak about her with that person. I specifically asked not to speak about her because I did not need any reminders about her (I have more than enough of those in my fucked up head and heart as it is).

So if you followed a link here that she shared. Please remember that I am a real flesh and blood person. I have been through a great deal in my own life. I have my own ups and downs. For about 14 months now, she has been one of those downs. If you read anything else in this blog, if you read things I have written in my darkness and judge against me, then you may not be giving me fair credit as a human being who has traveled a difficult road and is finding it very difficult to bounce back up.

Private Scorpion

2010-10-26T16:49:00.001-07:00

Today I learned that the Scorpion took her blog private. If you are curious about what I am referring to with the Scorpion, you can read about it here.

I first debated if I should get out a glass of wine to celebrate that her bullshit is no longer visible to just anyone. But I can't forget that it is likely still visible to people who know who I really am. So the celebratory toast will not happen.

If I ever learn that her blog is well and truly gone, or that she has truly removed every single fucking word that has anything at all to do with me. Then I shall celebrate. To learn about her blog being gone forever, I would break out a nice champagne and toast that.

I cannot count on her to remove me from her blog though. I have since learned she is simply too fucking stupid to get a clue about the damage she did. I sometimes ponder if that is a trait common to women because I have noticed that women seem to find it far far more difficult to apologize for screwing over a guy than a guy does for doing something wrong to a woman.

Whatever it is, it is something that she clearly has an overabundance of. That woman has absolutely no comprehension of what it means to care about others, and I think that applies more to men than women. She has zero ability to apologize for fucking up. I don't say these things lightly. I am living proof of her ability to royally fuck things up, and living proof that she is incapable of forming an apology for either her words or her actions.

Today I will count as a minor celebration that the bullshit she called her blog is not available to just anyone any longer. The lies she spread will only be seen by a few, unless she has blocked out everyone (I could so hope). But I won't count on truly celebrating until I know that she is gone from blogging completely. The world would be such a better place without someone like her in it.

Some Possible Light

2010-10-22T08:30:00.000-07:00

I reached a point where I did not care. I did not see any point or purpose to existence on this planet. I believe in God. So I prayed to God to please stop treating me like a cat toy. Batted around, scratched and clawed, and generally just played with for someone else's amusement.

I prayed to have the very breath taken from my body, to have the heart stop beating because I simply had no further interest in living life simply to be tortured. I had and have no further interest in seeing that there are people who can do whatever they want to do to others without any consequences here on this planet. There are people who commit serious atrocities against others, and yet their financial well being is unhindered. The network of friends and family remain stable. As if what they have done means nothing. Maybe in the afterlife they will have to pay for what they have done.

I truly do not care what happens to them in the afterlife. If someone does something wrong here on this stupid planet, then they should have to face consequences for their actions on this planet.

Yet it doesn't work that way. My financial world was completely destroyed by others. My heart was painfully broken by others (that part you probably already knew about). Yet those others faced no consequences for their words or actions. No apologies, no worries about what was done to me. They simply go on with their lives making sure every day that I know how they truly do not care about me, even as a human being.

I worked so hard to be a good man. To not lie just to get what I want from anyone. To be romantic with women, and still be passionate in the bedroom. To be caring and sensitive. I put forth a lot of effort to be what society says is an ideal man for a woman to have in her life. I worked hard to be someone a company would be proud to have working for them. To be a really good employee who could have years of financial security.

And yet did any of that matter? After all of the women who have lied to me right to my face. After all who have just used me. Did any of it matter? If a person is good, shouldn't good things come their way?

I worked so hard to be a nice guy, and what I have to show for it is that I have been used and completely abused. Like I had a huge fucking target on my back that said, just take fucking advantage of him.

I have no desire or interest in taking my own life. That won't stop me from praying that God will end this torment. Because apparently he will not punish those who lied to me and used me and intentionally went out of their way to damage my life. The universe doesn't fucking care about us. Do wrong and there is no punishment, be a good person and there are people who will go after you to make your life miserable. My life says that has been the point and purpose of being on this stupid fucking planet.

I did mention there was some possible light. Maybe in spite of the odds against me, there is a chance for me to begin salvaging my financial situation. After waiting for far too long, someone is finally doing the job they were paid to do. After spending so much effort to generate income, I finally will have the opportunity to speak to someone and hopefully it will lead having income again.

I think I know what it means to be loved now. The problem is that there is more than one, and that leaves me very confused. My nature is to want them both to have their desire. But both only want me for themselves and not to share with anyone else. There is simply no choice for me but to acknowledge that I have hurt someone I care about. Because it is not possible to give both of them what they desire. No matter how much I wish I could, or how much I wish their desire was something different (like being able to share), it just isn't possible.

I hope to write more about that in a future post. To give a better definition and understanding of knowing what love is. I think it is fair that topic gets its own post.

For now I am still breathing, my heart is still beating. I face a world that so often just seems set against me. I don't even want to try fighting anymore.

One Year Ago

2010-10-06T12:00:00.000-07:00

One year ago today. I collapsed. I had no strength in my body, my mind, or in my heart.

I fell to the floor, alone in my house. There was no capability in me to get back up. There was no capability to stop the tears that were flowing freely from my body. Those tears were not enough to cleanse the pain and anguish out of me that had led me there. It was the second time it had happened within the space of a week. The results were still the same.

Through the course of a month I had been beaten and battered. I never suspected she could be like that, and could not see it even when it was right in front of me. The first collapse came three days before she delivered the final crushing blow and the second came three days after those final words. I had no idea she was capable of such a level of cruelty as she displayed. For three days I still stood.

But on the third day that crushing blow came back to roost.

I call this blog my dark trails. It is primarily about the things that have happened in my life that I consider dark. It is about the things I have done in response to that darkness. I know I am capable of writing about very titillating sexual stories. I have not written many of those lately because sex has not come from the dark side of me. Some of the stories I wrote did not come from that dark side, but they still happened during times of darkness in my life.

On that third day. I had reached the end of my ability to stand. I had been completely crushed and broken. She once said she did not take things lightly and that she really did care for me. But in the light of that day when I went from standing on my feet, to collapsed on the floor without any strength in my body, my mind, or even in my heart, I cannot believe she cared at all about me.

For a month she dictated all of the terms of the relationship. Thoroughly breaking her promise to not be controlling with me. She did not display anything that resembled caring about what I thought about what she was doing. She never once indicated she cared how I felt about what she was doing. There was only her being in control of all aspects of the relationship and sending me the message that I would either deal with it or pay dearly.

It was only one of the promises that she broke though. There were others, and she broke those promises just as surely as the one mentioned here.

I discovered that there was still more to her ability for cruelty. She knew me, and she knew the things that bothered me and she intentionally used those things against me through a public forum. In that forum she says that she directs vitriol and sarcasm only at herself. The proof is clearly in the writing, and her words speak a complete lie as her vitriol was so clearly directed at me and she knows she has readers who know me and knew exactly who she was talking about. I felt the caustic sting of her words in a place where she claimed she would not hurt others. Yet she would claim she cared about me? I once thought that maybe she was done intentionally hurting me, but I was wrong. She had her means and methods to continue to dig in and cut into my heart.

Getting past what she had done to me was no easy task in light of other trials I faced. So if I say that I am not past it, I am probably not lying to myself or anyone else. I did send her a note to let her know she is forgiven. I do mean that. I asked her in that note not to respond. So far she has not. I once asked her not to read this blog. I have not seen evidence that she reads it, though I suspect she would find a way to learn what is written here through other means.

I do not want her here at my blog. Nor do I want her to respond because I have come to believe that she does not understand what love is, and that she does not have any understanding of what it means to care for another human being. I have no trust or faith in her and I do not want her to be able to ever reach in and cut me again like she has done so many times. My trust in her is so low that I would not even accept an apology from her unless she offered proof of her sincerity first. I cannot believe she is either capable or willing to offer anything that resembles proof. I can only believe she would offer excuses and justifications for her actions and words.

I have no interest in why she felt justified in cutting into me as she did. I have no interest in her excuses for not being able to love and care for someone despite her words that she did.

Knowing

2010-09-27T14:35:00.000-07:00

I have not been a very good blogger. I have not kept contact with some bloggers I had been in contact with. Some really awesome people who followed me through some really interesting stuff on this blog. My life is a rather messy turmoil of late. A stress level that has left my heart in retreat from life itself. I am working on that.

So there is one little bit about me. Part of the whole point of the post. To know someone. These are among some thoughts that came to me while standing in a shower of water that was probably too hot.

I am aware that I have been "labeled". Yep. Just called one thing or something else and the ones who applied the labels have not made the effort to know me. Then my thoughts take off on me. What does it really mean to know me?

I have a facebook friend. By facebook friend I mean that she is someone I have never met in person. Our paths have never crossed and we don't even have much in common. She has some really wonderful pictures of her in bikinis, short shorts, and other bits of clothing that highlight her physical beauty very nicely. She left a post one time that in a few words, conveyed pain from her heart over how a man had treated her. I sent her a personal message. I wrote to her heart. I understood then, and understand now, that she is so much more than those two dimensional pixels I enjoyed looking at. She is a woman with a woman's heart.

She responded with appreciation for the words that I sent her, but there the conversation ended. She didn't indicate wanting to allow me to know her as a person. That is perfectly acceptable of course. I am not so vain or concerned that she had to suddenly want to know me (that just would have been nice) just because I spoke to her. I suppose most of that has to do with the fact that I have not had trouble meeting and attracting the opposite sex, either physically or by words. When such a thing is possible, it takes the pressure off to always have to have that attention. This means I understand why women can be so standoffish when out and about. So many men throwing themselves at them, they no longer feel the need to "make the effort" to be nice and accommodating.

So back to me. Lest I get off track and the post goes too long.

Knowing me is so much more than this blog, than my profile on facebook, or pictures that are seen in various places. One can look at the picture and say that I am attractive (cute, hot, average, or any other adjectives), but that does nothing for knowing me.

One can read these words (or the words posted on another blog that I have written - but is no longer available) and think I am intelligent, or interesting, or average or any other adjectives. Once again, these words do not convey the sense of getting to know me.

There is one I can think of off the top of my head who I am sure would love for me to understand why she did the things she did. I think she would find appreciation in me knowing her past, accepting everything she has been through, and not holding anything against her for her words or actions past, present, and future. I can't give that to her just like that though. I would require that she know and understand and accept me too. She would need to know my past, and why I did the things I did, and why I said the things I said.

I need her to make an effort every bit as much as she would need for me to make an effort. That is the middle ground and I do not think there is any allowance for moving to one side or the other.

There are two who will go to extraordinary measures to know and understand me. They want me to know and understand them also. I give them that effort. I try as best as I can, and I do all I can to accept them for exactly who they are. Even still, it is stressful. I can't be all they want me to be, and I want both of them to have what their heart's desire. I could only do that by truly being something different than what I really am. I do not know what the true balance is there. What I am wants them to have their desires. What I am wants certain things for myself that it is not their nature to give or accept.

So for those who may wish to know. I am much more than a wounded man. I have been wounded. Deeply. Signs of the wounds and the pain are clearly evident in this blog. I am much more than a picture. I am much more than a man who desires and seeks sexual things. I am more than one who has caused pain. I am more than one who hurts, grieves, and so much more. Knowing me, just like truly knowing anyone, is not easy, it takes effort.

Those Fucking Condoms

2010-09-25T10:40:00.000-07:00

Afterlife

2010-09-17T16:53:00.000-07:00

This is actually a thought provoked post, but before I get to that. I wanted to do a couple one liners (part of that whole find a reason to smile thing).

They say that more than 60% of married men cheat in America. The rest of them cheat in other countries.

Statistically speaking. Only about 96% of women give the rest of them a bad reputation (I think I know some of that 96% personally).

Ok. Enough of the goofing off and lame jokes.

I have some experience with death. In fact I have far more experience with death than a non-medical person should have. All of the death I have personally witnessed happened far too early in the person's lives. I suppose if I saw it occur after a long life in a person who had earned their rest, it would be different. I haven't seen that though.

I have seen it happen quickly. I have been left wishing there had been something I could do. I know that realistically the best trained medical professional in the world might not have made a difference. It doesn't matter, I was there and I was helpless to offer any help, or even any comfort.

I have seen it happen slowly. As if the life was taken out of the person one little bit at a time each day. Once again I was helpless to do anything about it. It was in front of my eyes, and I ferried to every doctor and hospital for every test and prescription and next bit of aid. In the end, only the inevitable was prolonged.

It sometimes think about what happens when it is all over. I am not thinking to use this post to talk about my personal religious beliefs, or even to dive into any specific religious beliefs. If anyone wishes to bring out the religious beliefs in comments, that is welcome, I only ask that everyone who does so please respect that there really are people who will have a different point of view.

So back to my thought. What happens when it is all over? Is it truly ended like a book that you have to return to the library and can never borrow again? Or is there something more for us to go to. Do we return? If so, what form do we return in? Or is there another place in which we go? Is the energy that we are made of simply scattered back into the universe?

It seems to me that a vast number of peoples and cultures believe that we will go to be judged for our life on this rock. Naturally there almost as many different thoughts on what standard we will be judged against.

This is where my thinking went to recently. What if our judgment is to come face to face with everyone in our life, and face to face with everyone whose lives we affected even if we did not know it? What if we had to face and accept every harm we had done to those people? (If so, then some folks from BP will have an extra long judgment, but at least shorter than Hitlers').

What if someone who is gone now has had to face me with the full knowledge of every lie told and how I believed them? What if they had to face every manipulation for their own selfish gain at my expense? Would it make a difference if sincere effort was made to make up for those wrongs against others before death claimed either one?

That last question is the big one to me. If it doesn't make a difference to try while were are here, then it isn't necessary for anyone to try. I cannot picture that is the case. There are so many times and so many ways I wonder what the point and purpose of our lives even is. I am not willing to accept that our purpose here is to build up a store of credit for the afterlife. I think we are supposed to live here, and though our actions may be considered later, it doesn't diminish that we are truly supposed to live here within this life.

That doesn't mean we are supposed to suffer, or that we are supposed to be happy all the time. But I think it means that what we do in each day that we are given is supposed to be toward this life we are living here now.

Anyway. I have been quite thoughtful on this one for quite a while. It is not an unreasonable amount of time for this kind of thoughtfulness either. Sometimes we experience things that just take a long time to process through. I have carried more than one of those things, and the weight of them is still there. Whatever it is that I truly need to do with them has not been done yet. I'll get there eventually, or just die on the road to dealing with them. Whatever comes first I suppose.

I don't really have anywhere else to take this post but to say that duty calls in the form of meal preparation, and I have a need to find something that will make me smile whether I like it or note (the jokes above I had already heard, so they didn't help).

Baseball Vs Football

2010-09-16T16:42:00.000-07:00

I think I'll try something a little different and see if I can manage to focus on some things that just make me smile or make me happy. Sure there is the old standby of just focus on the positive. Truth to tell is that little maxim doesn't do it for me. So instead I'll take the maxim of actively find something that brings me a smile.

We'll try to make it work without any need to abuse mattresses by beating them with tennis rackets.

Anger Management

2010-09-14T20:24:00.000-07:00

I need some.

I was told over and over that I couldn't hold onto anger because it would just eat me up inside. Repeatedly I was told that I couldn't hold onto pain and hate for the same reasons.

I don't want to hold onto them any longer. But I think they are holding onto me.

I lay me down to sleep at night, and despite exhaustion, the angry thoughts fly through my mind. The hurt emotions filter through my heart. I don't ask them to come onto me. I don't seek to have them keeping me awake when I so much just want to sleep.

I am tired. So very tired from not sleeping well. So very tired from carrying these heavy burdensome emotions.

As a child with siblings (plural), I was the quiet one. The thoughtful one. The one who was so calm natured it seemed it would take something huge to make me angry. This stayed with me into adult hood. Though there were times I could get angry, and display outbursts of anger. It wasn't something which dominated with me. It was something that did not rule me. People saw me as a very rational person.

Perhaps last year I did not grieve enough for the loss I experienced. Perhaps I have lost perspective. I can't know this for sure at this time. But to think that there are so many who owe me an apology, I do find myself questioning me. Why do I think they owe me an apology? Did they truly do something wrong or did I do something wrong or was the entire situation just fucked up?

I do know this. An apology would make a world of difference. I know it because not long ago I received a sincere apology for something that happened almost 20 years ago, and it made a huge difference to me. Knowing how much difference an apology would make kind of makes it bitter that I know there will be no apologies from those I truly feel owe me an apology. They have so many excuses and so many justifications and refuse consistently to ever think they did anything wrong in any way shape or form.

I don't know what to do about these hurt emotions. I don't know what to do about the anger that comes with those hurt emotions. I just know that they won't go away, and I have no idea how to just "let them go". I don't want them anymore. I guess it is time to try something different and hope for a better result.

I want to go back to be calm natured. I want to go back to being the quiet and thoughtful one. I want to be me again.

Billions

2010-09-10T16:07:00.001-07:00

Billions. As in the number of people who inhabit this fair planet (we don’t have any other choice). Estimates put the number of humans on the planet somewhere around 6,867,800,000 (I have no idea how we managed an even number). I could go on and on about how big that number really is.

The point here is not about the astounding number of people walking on this rock. It is about the significance of one person on this rock. I don’t mean celebrity or leader significance either. I am talking one perfectly normal average person (like me or the majority of my readers) who does not stand in front of millions for whatever reason a person chooses to stand there.

How does one perfectly normal average person become someone incredibly significant? I don’t mean just a little significant. I mean like the entire world to someone else?

If you think there is some personal experience happening here, you are on the right track.

Giving birth to a child makes a woman the entire world to that child and that child has the potential to become so significant to that woman that she will willingly give her life to insure the child is not even harmed.

What about adults who are not related? How do we become so significant to each other that we would do the same thing? Or even lesser significances.

I hate causing harm to anyone anywhere. I hate that I did something that caused someone intense emotional pain. I was that significant to her. But who am I? What sets me apart from the billions of other men to her? Why did I matter so much? I try to tell her I am just a guy. It does not matter. To her I become someone truly significant and I was unable to be what she wanted and needed. I feel certain if I had stayed with her I would have hurt her far more than she could handle and I could not live with myself if I had done that.

I have difficulty seeing myself as a person who deserves to have someone love and care me for so much like that. I see this response in a lot of people, so I guess I am perfectly average and normal for even thinking I don’t measure up.

But look at the other side of this feeling. Why does it matter that there are people I fully expect to apologize to me for their behaviors? Why should they? Why should I be significant enough to them that they should care? Why should it matter to them that they did something to hurt me? Why is it that I want to be significant to them? The guy who says he is just a guy, one of billions, who probably doesn’t deserve one person’s love and devotions, suddenly feels that he should be significant. That he should matter to someone else.

How do I reconcile this incredible difference? How do I accept that someone cares for me as deeply as they do? Or how do I accept that I am not significant? That there are people who will hurt me and I won’t matter to them? How do I accept that there are people who will not care about me?

Maybe there are just billions of crazy people on this rock, and maybe I am just one of them.

Fantasy Girl

2010-08-27T13:26:00.000-07:00

BD is a real person. I have never met her though. I only known her appearance 2 dimensionally and have only heard her voice over air waves.

I am not one given to fantasizing about celebrities. There are celebrity women who are intensely beautiful in so many ways. From the ones whose personalities draw us in with the appearance of warmth and sincerity, to those who physical appearance inspires lust with just a glance, and all those in between.

The reason I do not fantasize about celebrities is because they are not “real” to me. What I know of celebrities is that they set themselves apart in some way, and make themselves unapproachable. If I had to worry about being mobbed by strangers always asking for something, I imagine I would do the same thing. When I fantasize, I prefer fantasies in which I am the observer watching (and to some degree feeling) what is happening. Or I prefer a fantasy in which the person I am with wants and desires me thoroughly. It is that want and desire that feeds my own, and thus fuels the fantasy.

So for me to fantasize about someone who I have only seen in pictures or have only heard the voice from places far away is highly unusual for me. Yet there is the fantasy.

BD has given herself to me fully. She takes pleasure in serving me in any way she can, asking only for my attention in return. Something I willingly give to her. She is very pretty, and highly intelligent. She needs only time and direction and she can achieve high levels of education. Stimulating her mind is a challenge for me. Stimulating her body comes easily.

She submits her body to me not only willingly, but passionately. Though she may gasp when my hand strikes her bare bottom, she becomes wetter with each strike. When I tell exactly what to do, she casts aside all worries and allows herself to feel the desires in her body while performing what I have asked. When I take her in my hands, or grab her hair, she stops whatever she is doing and gives her full attention to me, waiting to learn what my desire is.

She has become mine so thoroughly that it would concern her friends and family. She is mine so completely, that if they were to say something she would defend me with all of her energy. So much so that if they attempted to intervene it could easily damage the relationships she has with them.

I do not fantasize about this as a one sided relationship where I simply use her because she so willingly submits to me. I can imagine her resting from the night’s activities. Some of her skin is still stinging, some bruises and love marks show clearly on that beautiful skin, and several muscles are sore and aching from the exertions of prolonged sex play. The scent of sex is covering her skin and wafting from the bed she is resting in. I can see me with my hair still wet from the shower making breakfast with the morning sunlight streaming into the kitchenette of the hotel room I have rented for this liaison. Giving back to her and showing my appreciation for her devotion to me, and as a reward for performing so well the night before.

It is not a simple fantasy. It is something that has recurred so often that even aspects that do not involve sex have become included. I know it for what it is as well. It is well and truly fantasy. It will never happen. I firmly believe I will never see nor hear her in person.

I know there are many who would want to know the identity of BD. There are at least two who will desperately want to know. I will keep her identity a secret though. I know that if I ever reveal who she is, then the fantasy will not be able to continue. Once someone else is in on the fantasy, it stops being our own, and thus, it stops being something we can go to on our own. I appreciate having a fantasy that I know is mine.

I have a safe place in my mind where I can own BD. I know that no matter how rough I am with her, no matter what punishment is meted, that I cannot hurt her or anyone else. I know that I can push her emotionally to suit my desires. These are things that I do not believe are possible in real life. So I will keep this one to myself.

Getting my daily medicine

2010-08-24T22:11:00.001-07:00

http://www.themedguru.com/20091206/newsfeature/stare-boobs-longer-life-study-86131320.html

Frankfurt, Germany, December 6 -- A rather bizarre study carried out by German researchers suggests that staring at women's breasts is good for men's health and increases their life expectancy.

According to Dr. Karen Weatherby, a gerontologist and author of the study, gawking at women’s breasts is a healthy practice, almost at par with an intense exercise regime, that prolongs the lifespan of a man by five years.

She added, "Just 10 minutes of staring at the charms of a well-endowed female, is roughly equivalent to a 30-minute aerobics work-out."

A five-year research on 500 men.
Researchers at three hospitals in Frankfurt, Germany did an in-depth analysis of 200 healthy males over a period of five years. Half the volunteers were instructed to ogle at the breasts of women daily, while the rest were told to refrain from doing so.

At the close of the study, the researchers noted that the men who stared at the breasts of females on a regular basis exhibited lower blood pressure, slower resting pulse rates and lesser episodes of coronary artery [a blood vessel that carries oxygenated blood away from the heart to the body.] disease.

Sexual desire linked to better blood circulation
The researchers declared that sexual desire gives rise to better blood circulation that signifies an overall improved health.

Weatherby explained the concept stating, "Sexual excitement gets the heart pumping and improves blood circulation. There's no question: Gazing at breasts makes men healthy.

"Our study indicates that engaging in this activity a few minutes daily cuts the risk of stroke and heart attack in half. We believe that by doing so consistently, the average man can extend his life four to five years."

In addition, she also recommended that men over 40 should gaze at larger breasts daily for 10 minutes.

The German research is believed to be published in the New England Journal of Medicine.

I figured I should get a double dose, just to make sure. It seems like you can't get too much of this medicine. In fact. I am now accepting volunteers to help me insure I live the longest and best life possible.

The Steel Horse

2010-08-21T19:11:00.001-07:00

This should be fun. Since I know I have a few readers who are from Canada, and Europe, the Far East, and a few other areas of the globe, I need to write some details that are easy enough for everyone to understand.

The other fun thing is to try and say this in a way that is easy to understand for those who don't know motorcycles that well (wish me luck on this one).

Ok. The Steel Horse has 96 cubic inches (1584 cc) of powerful V-Twin engine which give it the highly distinctive sound and lots of incredible power. The machine turns corners like a dream. Weaves through traffic without effort, and lots of heads turn when it goes by.

The speedometer has a top speed of 120 miles per hour (193.12 Kilometers per hour). I haven't tried to go that fast, but I have felt winds faster than 70 miles per hour (112.65 Kilometers per hour) and I won't say by how much since I live a place where I may or may not be admitting to having broken the law.

The engine does more than make that distinctive sound. It throbs with power. A throbbing that you can feel through your car and body if you are sitting next to it at a traffic light. A throbbing that can leave your legs weak and trembling after you have ridden as a passenger for long enough (and more than one person has attested to this little fact).

A throbbing that I learned a lot more about recently.

Maybe the blue jeans I was wearing were tighter than normal. Maybe after using the restroom, my cock was positioned differently than it had ever been before when I was preparing to ride.

I don't know what happened or how to recreate it, but when I straddled that machine and cranked it up. I felt that throbbing through my cock. Every pulse and vibration traveled through the seat of the bike, through my jeans, across my balls and up the length of my cock.

In just a few miles, which included several times of revving that engine up to gain speed, I had a brand new appreciation for why women enjoy vibrators so thoroughly. Just realizing that I was experiencing the male equivalent that woman must feel when a good vibrator has settled deep inside of her pussy. Sending those delicious pulses throughout her body from within her. I enjoyed the thrill of that throbbing, pulsing, vibrating engine coursed through my body and especially from base to tip completely surrounding my cock.

This may be a good time to wrap this up and go for a ride.

Distractions

2010-08-20T17:49:00.001-07:00

The only way to pull off a Sunday afternoon 'quickie' with their 8-year old son in the apartment was to send him out on the balcony with a Popsicle and tell him to report on all the neighborhood activities.
 
He began his commentary as his parents put their plan into operation:
 
- "There's a car being towed from the parking lot," he shouted.
 
- "An ambulance just drove by!"
 
- "Looks like the Andersons have company," he called out.
 
- "Matt's riding a new bike!"
 
- "Looks like the Sanders are moving!"
 
- "Jason is on his skate board!"
 
...

...


After a few moments he announced, "The Coopers are having sex!"
 
Startled, his mother and dad shot up in bed! Dad cautiously called out, "How do you know they are having sex?"

-"Jimmy Cooper is standing on his balcony with a Popsicle."

The Real People

2010-08-05T11:12:00.001-07:00

Not too long ago I created a Facebook ID for The Steel Horseman. I did so for my own reasons, but quickly realized it was a nice little way to advertise this blog (in a way I have seen other bloggers do as well).

The FB page is purely the Steel Horseman persona and bears only a slight resemblance to the real man behind that persona. That persona pursues sex in its great and many forms. Thus on Facebook, the persona sought out those who are interested in sex.

In the time I have been there I have built a friends list which includes escorts, erotic writers, porn actresses, erotic dancers, sex bloggers, swingers and swappers, those who appreciate sex as a spiritual act, those who like specific fetishes, and more.

No matter what it is that they do. No matter what they pursue for their own life, happiness, and well being. They are all real people.

I would bet money in Vegas that every single person on Steel Horseman's friend list has felt emotional pain. That every one has felt physical pain.

I can read their arousing words, and look at their arousing pictures (and I have done both extensively), and I know that when they feel hurt, they want to be comforted. When they feel lonely, they want someone to ease that emptiness. That they want to feel the companionship of friendship, and that every one wants to know what real love is. To know someone who just accepts them for who they are without any judgments or reservations.

To everyone I have met on Facebook, on this blog, and on through any other "adult" sites or events. I accept you as you are, without judgment or reservation.

I will freely admit that I do hold judgment for any and all actions that directly affect me. Hurt me and I will feel anger toward the person who has hurt me. Treat me with disrespect and I will let you know that I do not accept that treatment. I know what it means to apologize and to give forgiveness. But that doesn't mean that a person is not accountable for their actions toward me. I have learned that much since I started writing this blog.

If I do not meet and talk to those on the friends list, that is ok. I can definitely enjoy the erotic writing and the sexy pictures. But overall, I am certain I would enjoy meeting and talking with a lot of those on the friend's list and getting to know so many people from so many areas of a topic I enjoy so much (SEX!). Even if the topic is not about sex. Getting to know the real person is often so much fun and so exciting in and of itself.

100 Posts

2010-07-30T12:51:00.000-07:00

Today I noticed that I had 100 posts (this one makes 101). I know there is a tradition among some bloggers to do a 100 things about me post.

I gave some consideration to doing such a post, but in the end I decided that I did not want to reveal more about me that could lead people to discover my real identity. There are specific people who I have in mind when it comes to keeping my identity a secret.

It is too late in one case. There was one person who I did not want to know my real identity with this blog, and yet she figured it out anyway and then left some blatant lies on her own blog regarding me. I have since asked that she not return to my blog and so far she has honored that request. I don't know what further there is to say about that, but if she ever felt compelled to apologize for her actions, she would find it very difficult to contact me. I have every intention of insuring she has no further opportunities to hurt me, and no further opportunities to create absurd lies to spread around to others who know me.

Anyway, there are others who are far far worse than that one person who already found me. Those are the one's I truly want to keep away. I have no idea how I ever encountered such people, but they do not simply try to harm others, they seek to destroy others. This really is not a statement said lightly. They have proven beyond a shadow of a doubt how much they will do to ruin a person financially and emotionally.

Thus my 100th post came and went, and I chose not to write out 100 things about me. Every post gives something about the writer. That is unavoidable. In time hiding my real identity my actually be impossible. I'll worry about that later.

Is He Trained?

2010-07-26T19:36:00.001-07:00

It is possible I offended someone recently. It is possible some alcohol was involved too, but that is only a minor part of it.

This woman said something that I find very offensive. There were some friends around just hanging out, having a drink or two, and a bite or two to eat (fresh off the Grill). I am with a female companion, and when I went inside to get a fresh drink, I got one for the woman I was with as well. Or maybe it was her plate of food, or who knows? The point is that I was being courteous and brought something back outside for her where we were sitting in the shade enjoying a beautiful day.

And then another woman opens her mouth to say something to my female companion about me being trained. That was where she went wrong.

I know I have a few ladies who stop in to visit and read my posts. Ladies it is possible that what I am about to say may be offensive, but this is my opinion and I actually feel strongly about it.

If a woman wants something to train. Then she should get a fucking dog. Not a man.

I moved out of my parents house while I was still a teenager and I took care of myself for at least eight years without the help a woman to fucking train me and tell me how to live my damn life. After all of that, I felt very confident that there was not a woman in the world I needed in my life to fucking train me on anything.

When I do something for a woman, such as bringing a plate of food, or a drink, or putting the lid down on the toilet, I am doing it out of courtesy. Insulting me by comparing me to a dog when doing something courteous is a damn good way to get under my skin and quick.

I did say something about all of this to the woman in question who made the mistake of insulting me. She did not have any arguments for what I said. If she was actually offended, she hid it well, and maybe took out on her husband later.

With all of that in mind. I will say that there are situations for training a man. Just look at the picture for this post. When a mistress takes on a new submissive, well, then she will train him to be her submissive. I understand this concept because I had a 'pet'. There was some training between her and I. It was a learning curve for me as well.

My final words are this. This is one man who expects to be treated like a man. In a relationship I desire to be loved and cherished and it is perfectly acceptable to ask for the same in return. I have no desire to be trained or taught how to live my life in any way.

Soliciting Advice

2010-07-23T09:28:00.001-07:00

Let the title of this post be my question, and the picture be your guide to what advice I am seeking.

My circumstance is something I find highly difficult, and as all persons are unique individuals, discovering what would be best may take some time (and I want to know right now dammit).

If you feel you can help, let's work on finding a way to contact so I can give the full story. After all, that will be necessary in order for good advice to be rendered.

Broken Part III

2010-07-22T14:26:00.000-07:00

The first of the series dealt with the admission of mistakes I have made in life. The second of the series had me take a real look at the things I know I have done right.

I did say there was a third post and a specific point to where it was all leading. Something that was not clear or obvious from the first two posts, but which has been present through the blog up to this point.

To reach the age that I have, one has to have made mistakes, and done some things right. One has been through pain. One has dealt with other's mistakes, and hopefully been treated right by other's as well.

This past year and a half I have seen some exceptional things though. Things far beyond anything I would have ever in my life considered acceptable.

I have seen related a group who should have appreciated what that man did for them, but instead turned against him. They made his personal life something that had to be completely hidden, lest they find anything they could use to hurt him (something they had proven they would do as often as possible). They made life at his place of employment nothing short of hostile, and kept it well hidden behind the guise of maintaining the paperwork. Which left him no recourse against them at all.

Even after fighting to separate from them and get as much distance as possible, they still do everything possible to keep him beaten down. It was not their intention to just say he hurt their feelings, no, they had to do everything possible to make him feel punished. He had to feel punished repeatedly and as often as they could manage.

Whatever it was they think I did, there was absolutely reason for their actions to go to the extreme that they did.

I started this series because I was so down as a result of these things done against me. I have been very significantly hurt emotionally. I have been very significantly damaged financially. At some point, it just needs to stop. I am doing everything I can to get that related group completely out of my life. There are consequences for their actions, and over time they will know those consequences. But the consequences they face are nothing compared to the damage they have wrought.

It is because of the people I am referring to in this post that I have difficulty with the concept of forgiveness. They have no remorse for any of their actions. They cared not for my thoughts or feelings. They only cared to do what damage they could, and what damage they can continue to do.

What is now broken? So much more of me than I really want to think about. I struggle to let myself trust the relationship I am in. Too often I feel sure that any little mistake I make will be blown up into something used to beat me down, to make sure I pay dearly for it. I try to regain my financial stability in the face of wondering who will make an effort (even that group from before) to ruin it again, or ruin it even more than before.

In so many ways, it did not matter what I did right. Only the mistake and it led to people going so far above and beyond anything necessary to find ways to hurt me. Before those people can ever have anything to do with me again, they will have to apologize for their behavior. They will have to make amends for the ways they hurt me. I will not accept anything less. As for ever trusting them again. I doubt such a thing will ever be possible.

Broken Part II

2010-07-20T19:08:00.000-07:00

Continuing from my last post. I said I would write about some things I did right. I did not pause to think of how difficult that would be when I wrote and posted that statement. It is not my nature to spend my time thinking through the things I did right in life. I am much more inclined to notice my mistakes and try to correct them or to remain neutral than I am to think about what I did right or why.

Another thing that crossed my mind was to find a way to write about what I did right in such a way as to not identify myself. There are people out there who seem to be filled with the intention to cause me harm in any way they can. Getting them out of my life is proving not to be an easy task.

I did mentioned things I have done right in the previous post. It wasn't that I did so intentionally, just that as I wrote, that is what came forth in the post. For example. I have never used physical advantage against anyone. Which is another way of saying I have never hit, never pushed, never pulled, or in any way physically hurt a woman. I know this is right. I also know that this does not give any woman, anywhere, the right to think she can attack me physically. Any woman who thinks it is acceptable to physically attack a man knowing he cannot legally touch her is completely without respect or honor of any sort (lower and slimier than a slug in my book).

I have never cheated on a girlfriend.

I have kept promises, even when the person I made the promise to broke their own promises to me.

I initiated the arrangements for her to be close to her family in the few years of life she had remaining. It went against my personal values to make my own way. To not use someone else for career gain (even if they were willing). She will not be identified for personal reasons.

With another, for reasons far beyond my understanding, I could not return to her the love that she gave to me. I stayed honest with her to the very best of my ability (and she forgives me for the times I failed in that). I did not turn her away. I did all I could to keep her from hurting because of me. I don't know how successful I was in that, but she deserved so much better than me. I couldn't allow myself to do anything to cause her further pain.

In a separation further back, another woman and I worked together and divided the possessions, and kept the fights to a minimum. In the end we became the friends we could not be in the midst of a relationship.

Once again. These are just samples. Just brief samples from my own mind, and things others may or may not have noticed. The point was not to gloat or brag in any way. The real point has not been made yet. It was not made in the previous post either. There is one more post to go. The post that deals with what has been troubling me these past few days.

Broken Part I

2010-07-19T13:53:00.000-07:00

A one word description of how I have been feeling the past few days.

Looking back, time has passed since I last wrote something meaningful. The jokes and videos are easy and they really aren't my own material. I like them though, and will continue to use them. But my purpose here in this blog is for me to write something meaning regarding life, and particularly of sex.

This time I talk life. Specifically, I will talk about the mistakes I have made which I can identify. No doubt there are other mistakes I cannot identify. But when people choose not to talk, to not help me be a better person, then there is nothing which can be done about it.

Through the teen years there were definitely mistakes. Mistakes born out of lack of knowledge. Teen girls were a mysterious and infuriatingly difficult creature to understand (not much has changed). There was puppy love, and eventually there was sex.

There was never any intention to hurt anyone in any way. I had seen the images of men who would just use girls and women however they wanted and then move on leaving broken hearts behind. I saw the lies. I saw painful results. I vowed not to be someone like that. I just couldn't be a man like that.

I had heard about men who would physically hurt a woman. I could not understand this concept. I was never a bully in any way. I just couldn't see how someone could use physical advantage against another. I vowed that I would never hurt a girl or woman in this way. That vow has been truly kept. I have never physically harmed a girl or woman. There is no but, there is no except, there is no qualifier of any sort to that statement. It has never happened in any way. Anyone who claims otherwise, or claims she was afraid of me is purely delusional, or is lying for her own gain.

I have written about FL in a couple of posts. Looking back, I identify her as my first true love. There was a puppy love before her, but looking at my actions and knowing my emotions, I can now safely identify her as the first true love. She was my first true mistake as well. The way that I broke up with her and the pain I caused in her heart stayed with me for more years than I wish to count. Maybe it sucks to be sensitive to another's pain in this way, but I have learned to live with it and have discovered some of the benefits.

I have never cheated on a girlfriend. But I have cheated in marriage. I don't mean open marriage or permission. I mean finding someone else for sex without the knowledge or permission of my wife.

I have gone to prostitutes and paid for their sexual services. I only count this as a mistake because the women I went to I did not know if they were willingly in that business or if they had been forced or coerced in some way. There is no way for me to know for certain one way or the other. If I had the choice, I would only visit a woman who is accepting pay for sex because she wants to.

These are the easy things. For one thing, they are easy for me to see what I did wrong. For another, society can be highly critical of any man who has ever done these things I mentioned.

I have no doubt there have been words and actions I have done that have caused pain in others. Identifying them specifically is not so easy when just relying on memory. Also I am not identifying recent items out of respect for those who may read these words. They and I know what we have been through and our friendships and love are still quite intact, so rehashing hurtful items will not serve a purpose here.

In all, I have written a sample of the things I believe I have done wrong. This is part one. In the next part I will change completely and take a look at what I have done right. My motivations and reasons, the words and the actions. I'll try to keep it as brief as I did here.

Wrong Hole

2010-06-30T14:31:00.000-07:00

I just couldn't stop watching the whole thing.

Just what the doctor ordered

2010-06-25T12:58:00.000-07:00

A nice, calm and respectable lady went into the pharmacy, right up to the pharmacist, looked straight into his eyes, and said, 'I would like to buy some cyanide.'

The pharmacist asked, 'Why in the world do you need cyanide?' The lady replied, 'I need it to poison my husband.' The pharmacist's eyes got big and he exclaimed, 'Lord have mercy! I can't give you cyanide to kill your husband! That's against the law! I'll lose my license! They'll throw both of us in jail! All kinds of bad things will happen. Absolutely not! You CANNOT have any cyanide!'

The lady reached into her purse and pulled out a picture of her husband in bed with the pharmacist's wife.

The pharmacist looked at the picture and replied, 'Well now. That's different. You didn't tell me you had a prescription.

Ranted

2010-06-17T16:39:00.001-07:00

I definitely ranted yesterday. It was like an internal explosion of frustration that just had to come out. Why here instead of somewhere else? I have no idea. I have noticed that bloggers do tend to rant on things every now and then. It is like this is our little place to explore those rants and to vent those emotions.

I doubt anyone who was a topic of yesterday's post will ever read what I wrote. I have my doubts that if they do read it, they will even know they were the topic (or even know my identity).

On the positive side, it did start some helpful discussion from behind the scenes. No need for me to air it out here. I have no desire to say something that could identify anyone regarding that issue. Just that the contact was made and the discussions are ensuing, and I am trying to release the poison of that hatred and anger. I may need some luck on that one since lately I have not had a lot of success.

I am coming to accept that lack of success. It has to do with the twists and turns my life has gone through. Among them some very painful things. Some things that cannot be undone or changed in any way. Some things that just came back to back and happened too quickly. Something would happen, then before I have a chance to heal, something else, and then something else again, and still something more. It just kept adding up like a hit that formed a bad bruise and then the bruise was hit repeatedly.

My focus lately has been on things that are stressful (for anyone). It isn't because I want to focus on this stress, but it is necessary. To not give it focus and attention would cause it to be unresolved, and thus become even more stressful than it already is.

So bruised and battered, trying to heal, dealing with something very stressful in an attempt to resolve it before it becomes even worse. Every now and then I may just have to vent here and rant whatever is hurting my mind or heart. I'll make an effort to keep it to a minimum.

Silence

2010-06-16T16:34:00.001-07:00

"If you don't know what you did wrong, well I'm not going to tell you."

Just a little quote I have actually heard. It was in response to one frustrated person asking one angry person what was wrong. So I am thinking, how in the world is that kind of statement supposed to help anything?

Seriously. If someone did something wrong, and they aren't aware of it (which actually happens quite often), how are they supposed to apologize? How are they supposed to improve their behavior? Is there anything fair about treating someone with anger and then doing something like that so that the anger can continue?

But this was more about silence. I just started there because it highlights what I am talking about with the silence part. See, I apparently did something wrong and now I am getting the silent treatment.

I don't know what I did wrong. I can't apologize for whatever the mistake was. I can't make amends of any kind. I can't improve my behavior or become a better person. All I can do is endure the angry silence. Something that will never improve for so long as the person maintains their silence.

I have cut off communication with some people. They know what they did wrong though. I had the chance to speak my peace before I cut them off. They had no intention of giving an apology. They have no intention of trying to make peace. They have no desire to be better people by making amends for their actions. Thus for so long as they cannot offer an apology for their actions. For so long as they cannot realize the error of their ways. There will be no communication with them.

But my rant for now is with those who cut off communication with someone without giving them a chance to know why. It is for those who cut off communication with someone without giving them the opportunity to make amends, to apologize if it is called for, to change their behavior and become a better person if that is possible. To those who would do such a thing. May I just give a very resounding FUCK YOU.

To those who have done that to me. You lost a relationship with a really good man and chances are that you will never get it back in any way shape or form.

Stuttering

2010-06-14T15:38:00.000-07:00

The teacher stood at the front of the class of young students.

"Humans are the only animals on the planet capable of stuttering." She explained. The joy of providing education and instruction to their young minds resonated in her voice.

There was some questioning though. Some wondering about why, and others asking how come, and so on.

But little Suzie near the middle of the class. With her cute blonde braids and big blue eyes raised her hand and waited her turn to be called to speak.

"Yes, Suzie." The teacher finally called on her.

"I had a cat that stuttered." Suzie said proudly. Knowing she had the attention of the class and had shown that she was smart because she knew her cat stuttered and that made her smarter than the teacher for this part.

The teacher smiled back. "That isn't possible Suzie. As I just explained. People are the only animals capable of stuttering."

Suzie faltered for a moment, but didn't give in. "But I know my cat stuttered. I heard her. I was right there when it happened." You could almost hear the exasperation in little Suzie's voice that the teacher questioned her.

"Perhaps you were mistaken, and what you heard wasn't really a stutter, but something that you mistook for a stutter." The teacher explained.

Now definitely exasperated. "It wasn't a mistake. I heard her stutter." Suzie nearly cried.

Knowing that the conversation was getting away from the topic and seeing that Suzie may become more upset and disrupt the class, the teacher decided to try a different tactic. "Tell us about what you saw and heard, and we can discuss it as a class then."

Suzie calmed down quickly, ready to beam inside knowing that she would get to prove to the teacher and the class that her cat stuttered.

Suzie said, "The cat and I were in the back yard one day enjoying the sunshine. I was watching my cat chase a butterfly when all of the sudden, the neighbor's Rottweiler jumped over the fence in our yard. The neighbor's Rottweiler is a really big and really mean dog. My cat was really scared. She raised her furr, and went ppphhhhhtttt, ppphhhhtttt, ppphhhhtttt.

"Then before she could say FUCK, that mean ole Rottweiler ate her."

Forgiveness Part 2

2010-06-12T19:56:00.000-07:00

Continued from Part 1 (posted yesterday)

There is one more aspect of this I will dare to travel (the luxury of this being my blog and all). I live in a nation that is dominantly Christian. Within this faith we are given to understand that the things we have done are so horrid that we deserve to die in most painful manner followed by spending eternity in punishment. But out of Love, the son comes to earth and takes that punishment on our behalf, and dies on our behalf so that we do not have to endure any of the punishment for the things we have done wrong. It is in this manner that God can forgive us.

Ok, this is not about preaching, and I paraphrased a lot there because I felt confident the majority of my readers (if not all) are familiar with the teachings of the Christian faith. Taking this back to a personal level. What if someone has done me wrong I do not love them? I won’t take the punishment they deserve for their actions or words or whatever it was. I have no motivation to do so. In this context forgiveness will not happen out of love, caring, or even wishing them well. In fact, in this circumstance, I wish for the person to endure the consequences of their actions and words. I just don’t see me giving a free “forgiveness” pass.

Sure, I will let them go. I will let go of the anger and hate and hurt and do what I can to put such people out of my mind, my heart, my very life. But to allow them to come back? Not that easy. No person will hurt me and come back to find me open and willing to allow them to do it again. They will have to change and they will have to prove that change before there will be any further communication or other interaction between them and I.

There are several people who fit in this category. I feel very certain that they will live out the entirety of their lives without ever changing or making any attempt to right the wrongs they have committed. I cannot foresee any chance for any reconciliation, tearful reunions, or even so much as a cordial greeting. It is my choice to have nothing to do with them for their words and actions. They are aware of some of the consequences for what they have done. But it won’t be enough to overcome their pride, and their mistaken belief that they were right in what they did.

It is one of my dark trails. It is one of the reasons why I chose to just use people as I described at the beginning of this blog. I am tired of being used by others. I am tired of people thinking they can say whatever they want and change their mind just because they feel like it. I am tired of broken promises. I am tired of those who treated me as if I was disposable, they could use me as they wanted and toss me away without a word when they were done. I am tired of those who felt I was supposed to live my life according to what they expected or do what they wanted exactly when and exactly how they wanted.

I have a long way to go when it comes to forgiving others. I have some work to do to keep it from eating me up from the inside. The pain is still fresh, the anger is still burning hot, and the frustration that it won’t go away still stays with me. I have tried just about everything I can think of to change me, to let go of the pain and anger, and still it is there. For me there is no such thing as just forgive. I don’t work like that apparently.

Forgiveness Part 1

2010-06-11T19:53:00.000-07:00

This may be the most difficult post I have written. In terms of what it takes emotionally for me to write a post that is. The Dark Trails have shown that I have gone through issues requiring that I be forgiven, and requiring that I forgive others. I guess that is fairly normal among people. We go through our crazy lives and the interactions with others sometimes causes pain for one or the other or both.

I have been told repeatedly that I need to forgive because if I don’t it will eat me up inside. It really isn’t that simple though. Maybe it is for others, but it isn’t for me. I cannot state that I forgive a person and it just magically happens. I don’t have some ritual to go through which causes forgiveness to just happen.

There is nothing about me that desires to be angry with others at all. There is nothing that desires to hate others, to hurt others, or to wish harm on anyone else. There is no desire in me to be sad, hurting, or otherwise miserable.

So I am trying to figure out this forgiveness thingy. At this point I don’t even know if it matters if it or works or whatever.

From my own point of view. If I have done something wrong to someone, I want the opportunity to apologize for what I did wrong. I want the chance to correct myself so that I don’t cause them to be hurt again. I have been told more than once that I was forgiven a long time ago. As nice as it is to hear those words, it did not change me. That small aspect kind of bothered me. Because these words came from people I cared and care about a great deal. It was like them forgiving me and moving on without any words between them and I cheated me out of the chance to apologize, and the chance to change my behavior to try and be a better person.

I am like the vast majority of people who are guilty of egocentricity. I apply my viewpoints and motivations (and more) to other people. It is neither right nor wrong that I do that, it is a facet of human nature.

So my viewpoint is that I do not want a free pass when it comes to forgiveness. I do not want to give a free pass to others when it comes to forgiveness. If someone has hurt me, and chooses to cut off all communication, then they are not making any attempt to make amends. They are not apologetic. They are not willing to become a better person trying to not hurt others. Why then should they be forgiven (I stated above that I have been told it is because I can’t let this eat me up inside – so the question is different in its theory)? Why should someone who makes no effort be allowed a free pass?

Allow me to make an analogy with current events. In the gulf we have a disaster which has global implications. It has been caused by one corporation. The magnitude of the damage caused is immense and it is both physical and emotional. There is no doubt that the corporation is comprised of people. Human beings. If they displayed no remorse, no apologies, and no attempts to fix the damage they had wrought, would it be easy still to forgive them? What if it was more personal to you as a reader? What if you were one of the fishermen, or shrimpers, or hotel managers next to an oil covered beach? The economic and emotional impact would be first hand for you then. Could you simply say I forgive them and it is done? Is there a ritual or process or something that would make it so you don’t feel angry with them for what they did? Keep in mind that the pain and grief we experience in life is our own. It really is not possible to own another person’s pain or grief, though it is possible to relate to it. It is not possible to assume anyone should respond to pain or grief in the same manner as another person does. We each have to do things in our own way.

To be continued in Part 2.

Bear and Atheist

2010-06-09T18:07:00.001-07:00

An atheist was walking through the woods.
'What majestic trees!
'What powerful rivers!
'What beautiful animals!
He said to himself.

As he was walking alongside the river, he heard a rustling in the bushes behind him.

He turned to look. He saw a 7-foot grizzly bear charge towards him.

He ran as fast as he could up the path. He looked over his shoulder & saw that the bear was closing in on him.

He looked over his shoulder again, & the bear was even closer. He tripped & fell on the ground.

He rolled over to pick himself up but saw that the bear was right on top of him, reaching for him with his left paw & raising his right paw to strike him.

At that instant the Atheist cried out, 'Oh my God!'

Time Stopped.
The bear froze.
The forest was silent.
As a bright light shone upon the man, a voice came out of the sky.

'You deny my existence for all these years, teach others I don't exist and even credit creation to cosmic accident.'

'Do you expect me to help you out of this predicament?'

'Am I to count you as a believer?'

The atheist looked directly into the light,

'It would be hypocritical of me to suddenly ask you to treat me as a Christian now, but perhaps you could make the BEAR a Christian'?

' Very Well,' said the voice.

The light went out. The sounds of the forest resumed. And the bear dropped his right paw, brought both paws together, bowed his head & spoke:

'Lord bless this food, which I am about to receive from thy bounty
through Christ our Lord, Amen.

Things Change

2010-06-04T10:11:00.000-07:00

When sand has been changed to glass. It will not go back to being sand.

When wheat has changed to bread. It will never be wheat again.

When fruit has ripened. It can never again be a flower.

A child born. Cannot return to the womb.

Most of these are excerpts from something I read this morning that put me in a thoughtful frame of mind. All my life has been about changes and going through changes and being changed.

It made me aware that I have been fighting some of those changes. Even after the change has reached a point that it cannot be undone. I guess it is time to accept those changes. But at the same time, to be proactive and make positive changes that I have direct control or influence over.

It won't happen overnight, just as a garden vegetable will not happen overnight, it is a process and will take time to grow into what it will be. I will need time to continue growing and changing and becoming still something new and different, and yet still me.

There are still questions though. Questions that still fall within this context.

For example.

When a relationship has become broken to the point of no communication. Can any part of it become unbroken? So far my experience has shown me a resounding no on that question. I honestly wish it was not like that. But that is the way it has been for me. This question is in reference to a relationship I have never mentioned on this blog, and I will not describe it further. But I sincerely hope that what was broken can be unbroken.

There are still other thoughts about changes going on in me. One of those relates to forgiveness. That topic may or may not become its own post. I have too much in my mind to write it out at this time.

Receiving Oral Sex

2010-06-02T20:44:00.000-07:00

I am like so many other men and can freely admit that I enjoy receiving oral sex. I did write one post regarding someone who did something that really left an impression on me here. That was just one little aspect though. There is so much more.

I think the things I find most pleasurable are normal among men. Naturally there will be some deviation among men, just like there is deviation among women in what they find most pleasurable. That is natural. So what this is about is what I enjoy. I hope the descriptions are sufficient that as you read this, you really do understand and if you are a woman, do these for your man, and if a man, express this to your partner.

First of all, there is no one way that just works. When I was younger and a gentle breeze was enough to get me aroused maybe. But I am quiet evolved past that point. After a certain amount of time and interaction, there are scars on the inside as well as pleasant memories. Both of those combine to make me into something new and unique and no longer the same as I was as a teenager.

The most effective way to get me truly hard, truly aroused, and able to thoroughly let go of everything but the moment is to get into my mind. This blog is not sufficient to describe all that it takes to get into my mind. But I can at least share some insight for ways to get into my mind that should be useful with others.

Be into it. Seriously. Don't treat giving a man oral sex as a favor to him. If you don't enjoy it, or you are not really into it, it will show. Treat it is as something you really do want to do. As something that arouses you, makes you wetter and hotter. Revel in the power you have over him through the attention focused mostly on one part of his body. Whatever it is that works for you, that makes you enjoy giving oral sex, then open yourself to that and let it show to the man you are sucking.

Don't be a porn star about it. Maybe that works for some guys, but not me. Porn is fun to watch, but it comes across as so fake. I don't want fake in my sex life. I think there are very few people who would ever say they want sex to be fake in some way (toys may be excluded from that statement).

About technique. There are three things that generate the most sensation for me when receiving oral (all of this is pre-orgasm). The first is slickness. The more slippery your mouth and my skin become, the more I notice and enjoy what is happening. If your mouth becomes dry, the sensation becomes rougher and less and enjoyable to me.

The second thing is depth. I have been told (many times) that I am well endowed, and I also know I have been deep throated (but only one person really did that). It isn't a contest, it is just what you enjoy and testing your limits. Whatever you do, don't push past your limit. Getting sick at this time really would kill the mood. I am not sure if some guys enjoy the gagging thing or not, but I know I don't. If I see a video where the giver is gagging herself on the male actor, I get totally turned off and tune out the video. It is just that bad to me. But I do very much enjoy having as much of my cock inside of the warm and welcoming mouth as possible. One thing that I have noticed helps is using your hand at the base of the cock. Let your fingers get wet so they slide up and down the shaft while your lips slide up and down the shaft and when I close my eyes I can hardly tell where one begins and one ends.

The third thing is the position of the tongue. For me there is only one side of my cock that is truly sensitive to the feeling of the tongue rubbing against it. If I am laying on my back, and my partner is positioned between my legs where she can look up my body to see me, then her tongue is going to hit that side. The ridge the goes up and down the entire shaft and also happens to be where one can feel my cum when it travels up the shaft. I have had many an orgasm when the mouth covered my cock from other angles (my second favorite is 69). I don't have to have it this way, I have just noticed this is one way that I really enjoy it.

Swallowing? Spitting? It really doesn't matter to me. But it does make a difference if the orgasm happens in the mouth or if the mouth is pulled away. I think that makes a difference for everyone. If you are a woman, imagine a man is sucking on your clit and the moment your orgasm starts, he pulls his mouth away. If the moment was built up properly, you'll still have your orgasm, but it won't be the same or have the same intensity. Does that mean you should let a man cum in your mouth no matter what? Nope, refer back to the paragraph about getting sick. If you honestly can't handle it, then don't do it.

Ok. There are some basics. Of course there is still more to it than this. The main things I wanted to stress were getting into the mind aspect, and honestly enjoying it. After that, there are little things that vary from guy to guy, and learning each man's likes and dislikes just takes a little time and practice.

Pray For You

2010-06-01T19:53:00.001-07:00

It was just a normal day. Then I hear a new song and I enjoy a good a laugh. I realized that I needed a laugh like this.

Vacation

2010-05-31T14:40:00.000-07:00

I took a little vacation. Not that anyone really needed an explanation for my absence. But there it is. I am choosing not to advertise when I go on vacation. Someone I know did that, and while they were on vacation, they got robbed. True story, it really does happen. But now that I am back, I am happy to report that I took a vacation.

Unfortunately it wasn't a just go away and relax vacation. It was be there for someone else vacation. I did get out of town. I did meet lots of people who were strangers to me. Spent some quality time with those I am close to. And on and on. I am sure you get the gist of my very vague post.

Being out of my usual comfort zone gave me some thinking time too. Time that I was able to reflect on crap going on in my head and in my heart. I can honestly say I really have no desire right now to be dealing with crap in my head or in my heart. I would so much rather just be having fun and enjoying all of my life right now.

I gave some thought to this blog. I want it to be a little something more than just erotic writing. I know so many come by just to read those stories, and I truly hope I have written them well enough to be given the honor of read all the way through by lots and lots of people who have never commented (in addition to all of my wonderful commentors).

Here is the deal though. This is my little private space where I can openly talk about the stuff that is not supposed to be talked about in polite society. This is where I can say that I have had some fantasies that fall outside of some of the socially acceptable norms. I have fantasies that I will not consider attempting to make a reality. Is that normal? From what I understand, yes. Do I think some of my readers would feel concerned if they knew all of my fantasies? Once again, I would say yes. Even as I know how open minded my readers are (isn't that why you are here in the first place?), I still think there are some things that wouldn't be acceptable.

That is the thing about fantasy. I know it is fantasy. I know the difference between fantasy and reality. If I find myself aroused by something that is very taboo, that doesn't mean I am truly desiring to engage in it. It just means that I have this part of my mind that is rather liberal and finds itself aroused by lust in its most raw forms. When lust becomes so consuming that a person does something they are not supposed to do, then it has become a lust that I find very arousing.

I have written at least one post regarding come current sex and society stuff. Part of my mind wants to go there more. To openly (well, anonymously) write about sex topics and relationships, and just my own thoughts and opinions. For example, I am giving some thought to writing a post about what I like when receiving oral sex. This isn't easy because when I am receiving, I am not really thinking about how to write what is happening. But I still would like to give it a try.

Last item. I added a widget on the side where anyone can ask me questions. I will make every effort to answer questions left there, either directly, or through posts. So feel free to ask anything, but understand that not anything will be answered. I do get to keep some parts of me private. Even here.

E-Lust #14

2010-05-25T13:50:00.000-07:00

photo courtesy of Lila

Welcome to e[lust] - Your source for sexual intelligence and inspirations of lust from the smartest & sexiest bloggers! Whether you’re looking for hot steamy smut, thought-provoking opinions or expert information, you’re going to find it here. Want to be included in e[lust] #14? Start with the rules, check out the schedule in the site’s sidebar and subscribe to the RSS feed for updates!

~ This Week’s Top Three Posts ~

Answers with an Agenda 1- Fisting - Once you’ve gotten started using two fingers for a bit, then it is time to build until four fingers are sliding in and out of the person, and you are on your way.

Gagged - I think it’s got to be a combination… fingers sliding into your cunt, a merciless tease of your clit, and yes, it’s going to have to be, lining my cock up with your ass.

Mine - I feel you stir beneath me as I create a rhythm, your breathing changing growing more shallow as you slip from sleep into arousal. My eyes lift to yours as you smile and try to move your arms and then freeze.

~ e[lust] Editress ~

Puppet Master - When I was right next to them and they still did not notice, I put my lips to his ear (loud music, you know) and whispered “Touch her boobs, I bet she’d like that” and I backed up a foot.

~ Featured Post (Lilly’s Pick) ~

Shaping Some Limits - “If you ever did that to me, I promise you would never see me again”.Those words were spoken to me this past weekend by my pet during one of our overnight dates. The subject was face slapping.

See also: Pleasurists #77 for all your sex toy review needs.

All blogs that have a submission in this edition must re-post this digest from tip-to-toe on their blogs within 7 days. Re-posting the photo is optional and the use of the “read more…” tag is allowable after this point. Thank you, and enjoy!

Kink & Fetish

12 Licks of the Tawse
A Canvas for Pain
Best Friends
Fetish: What's Yours?
Needles and Cock Choking
One Couple's Journey into Kink, part 2
Pieces of Skin and Bone
Please hurt me unbearably, you fucking fucker!
Ssssh…
The Taskmaster's Whip

Thoughts & Advice on Sex & Relationships

A (Short) Ode to Uncut Cocks
Compersive Vanillas?
How Fear can Lead to Understanding and Trust
I am not a rapist...
Mother's Day Gift
On threesomes
On Friendship
Playing Nice On The Swingset
Tyler and Holly Give Swing Clubs Another Chance
The Virgin in the Family/Do Not Enter
third person
Whacking For America

Erotic Writing

26 minutes
A Request For Help
Are you willing, Are You?
A Squirting Experience
All Dressed Up - The Party ....part 2
Beginning
Book Orgasm
Dhanurasana
Flesh for Fantasy
Filled
Getting Lost in the Forest
Guest Post: Truck
Go Habs Go Domme Style
hotel window
How Do I Find You Sexy?
I'll Be Waiting
Jim and Lisa
Keeping It In The Family
Mind the Gap
My Sluttiest Moment
My First Blowjob
Me, Myself & My Clit
Not Tonight Dear, I've Got A Headache (Part 2)
Pure, Unadulterated Desire
Predatory
rhythm
Something Different
slumber interruptis
therapy session #1
Wanton Wednesday- Fuck-toy
Wednesday Night Blues

Sex News, Interviews, Politics & Humor

A Wolf in Sheep's Clothing
Eden Fantasys Newbie Help Guide
What the fuck, EdenFantasys?
Workshops and More at the ALCC

CG's First Time

2010-05-21T16:35:00.000-07:00

This is another of my old memories. Not as old as the memories with FL. Still, it predates much of what has been written here.

CG and I met at a time I was dating a friend of hers. Even then I should have known better. It was obvious that she and I were on different paths. She was destined to go Westward, and I was destined to go Eastward with both of us crossing large bodies of water. At the time, CG was on the same path as her friend.

The relationship between CG's friend and I ended just before she and CG moved to another city (one which I would join them in later). This gave CG and I a chance to spend a two day road trip with each other in my latest small car. It wasn't all bells and whistles. I hadn't gotten over the friend or the end of that relationship, and we witnessed a tragic event during that trip. Still, we did talk and get to know each other during that time.

Two months later I caught up to CG in the next city, but she was already packed and leaving again. Her path had changed and now we did not know where she was going. My path remained unchanged for the next six months. During that time I chose to marry, and because of that marriage, I did not go East across the ocean as planned. I found myself in the middle of America.

To my surprise, CG was there too. She was married by this time and pregnant. It was not long afterwards that my own wife became pregnant. We were friends in all ways, and neither of us was willing to cheat on our spouses. I can also safely say that CG hid her feelings well. I did not know that she wanted to get to know me better since before the two day car trip. Circumstances were always against us.

Years later, and more moves to other cities for both us found us each single. We did not live close to each other, but she traveled to see me. We spent a weekend together and it was the first time we were both single, and without the distraction dating or having dated a friend.

I knew it was possible that she and I would have sex while she was visiting. I didn't know how to feel about that though. She was my friend, and I really cared for her as my friend. I feared sex was something that could cost me that friendship which I treasured.

I drove four hours to meet her at the airport. She kindly drove on the way back (too many hours awake for me). We were both completely exhausted by the time we got back to my home. We briefly talked about sleeping arrangements and decided to share the bed and for each of us to sleep as we were used to. For her that was a loose t-shirt and underwear. For me, it was underwear only.

We climbed between the sheets, and talked a few minutes before sleep claimed both of us.

We have talked about that night since then and neither of us really knows what truly happened. Maybe it was the proximity of warm skin and that we both snuggled with each other during our sleep. Maybe it was the scent of the opposite sex filling our senses during our rest. Maybe it was the skin, or the touches, or maybe there was always something there.

We awoke, and we kissed. It was shy and tentative for both of us. We were both uncertain about whether or not we were doing the right thing for ourselves, and for our friendship. We were both wanting though. It had been too long for each of us to truly enjoy another person's company.

The hands started exploring and it was not long before the only three articles of clothing were gone and we laid naked in each other's arms. I was hard and ready and I wanted her. She was wet and ready to accept me.

I took control and I slid into her. Caught between the needs of my own lust and the desires to insure she received her pleasure as well. I kept enough control to bring her to satisfaction. It was not easy because my own lust just wanted to take over and get its own satisfaction. I kept it reined in just enough. Enough to prolong the pleasure and it enjoy it that much more. Enough to give CG as much or more pleasure than she was giving me.

We spent the majority of that weekend together like that. Caught up in each other's arms. Exploring each other's bodies. Discussing the past and wondering why we waited even though we well knew the exact reason. We shared time together without distraction. We did not lose our friendship, or how much we cared for and about each other. Sex just added a new dimension.

That weekend I confessed a responsibility that I had to attend to. One that kept her and I apart for a few more years before she and I came back together again (as noted in the earlier stories). That is a story that led to some of my dark trails.

The First with FL

2010-05-17T16:23:00.000-07:00

This experience seems like lifetimes ago and I will freely and honestly admit I am nervous to write it because I do not want to miss out on special details. I am certain FL's memories are different than my own and that the details she would recall are different that what I would recall. But still, I want to write this in a way to honor that special moment for each of us. So here it is.

Shortly after FL and I began dating I attempted to kiss her, but she shied away from me. I felt so unsure about what she really wanted afterwards that it was nearly a month later before I attempted to kiss her again. She told me later that she was beginning to wonder if she was going to have to kiss me instead. There really was so much shyness and so much hesitancy on my part. I even kind of wonder how she and I made it to the point that we did.

I can't even recall how long she and I had been dating before the first time we had sex. At the time I am sure it seemed like forever. Now I think it probably was not very long at all. I picked her up from home to go out on a date. The car I drove was not the same as the one I described before. Unfortunately it developed far more problems than could be fixed.

When we went on our date we did not have many options. We were not yet old enough to drink, and that meant we were not old enough to go to the main dance clubs whose main source of revenue was selling alcohol. Luckily there was a place which set up a dance floor and for a few hours on Friday and Saturday nights permitted only teens (no one over 20 allowed). It was a strange mix because some teens are still so young to be out dancing like that, and the majority are still too shy to get out on the dance floor.

We did dance though. We smiled for each other, and tried to talk over the loud music, and enjoyed the lights. My favorite memory from that club was sitting with my back against the wall, while FL leaned against me. My right arm was over her shoulder and my finger tips caressed her thigh through her tight jeans.

I don't know how long we stayed, but we both wanted something quieter and just to spend time with each other before we both had to return to our respective home. We left and went to the same place to park where the other story would take place later. I remember my ears still ringing from the music, and I remember we talked some but I can't recall any of the words we said now.

I think after I parked the car we started kissing. I am sure it started shyly, but very quickly evolved into more excitement and passion. I did not know it at the time, but I was tasting her arousal in her kisses. I also didn't know it, but tasting a woman's arousal through her kiss is an incredible aphrodisiac for me. The more we kissed, the more inflamed my lust became.

Each moment of kissing pushed me to be more bold. To touch her through her clothes, to nervously move my hand closer and closer to her breast. Until it was warmly pressed under my palm. Where she shifted to press it into my palm even more. She gave me the sign that she wanted me touching her.

We kept kissing, sometimes pausing to whisper something to each other, but mostly enjoying the thrill of our tongues together, and the way our bodies were becoming so inflamed with lust and desire for each other.

When I finally dared to let my hand slip into the waist of her pants, she offered only desire and no resistance. My fingers slid into her pants and lifted the waistband of her panties to allow those same fingers to slip between her legs. What I found took my breath away and pushed me to the height of my desire for her.

She was so wet that her panties were coated with her juice, and my fingers were sliding against the fabric and against her skin easily. I knew then how ready she was to have sex and I couldn't resist any longer. I pulled my hand back and worked to remove her pants. Unbuttoned, unzipped and sliding down her hips.

As soon as they were out of my way, I released my cock from the restraint of denim and cotton. I moved over to her seat. My knees on the rough floor of the passenger side. It took some shifting and moving before I was properly lined up.

I was past the point of waiting, but not past the point of being gentle. I let my cock slide into her gently. There was no resistance because she was so wet. She felt so incredible. I have never been able to think of any words that could possible describe the feeling of being inside of her that first time. I just know that in that moment I could feel the entirety of my cock surrounded by the most beautiful and pleasurable sensation I have ever known.

When I recall that moment, I do not remember thinking of the person under me who was sharing the experience. I just remember that moment and that feeling of pleasure surrounding my cock.

When I moved, sliding my cock back so I could thrust into her, I became aware of her intensely. I tried to study her, to understand her pleasure and desire. I think my effort to study that night was futile though. All of my senses were being overwhelmed with pleasure. The scent of her was clean and clearly and unmistakable within the small confines of my old car with its old car smells. The movements of her body sent shivers of pleasure through me. The soft moans she allowed herself to make were a thrill to my ears, and the sight of her body underneath me, where her bare skin was glowing from lamplight was a feast to my eyes. The softness of her everywhere she touched me, and the heat radiating from her body permeated me. Lastly, I could still taste her kisses in my mouth.

I never had a chance to last. In that moment, and in that feeling, I am not sure any man could have lasted for very long. When I came, I pushed deep into FL. I could feel it flooding out of me and into her. I could feel each spurt of my cum fill the shaft of my cock to overflowing before the throbbing sent it jetting into her. My entire body trembled with my orgasm, but I remained quiet for fear of being overheard.

When it was over, we kissed and shared the moment of pleasure for a few minutes more before we had to rush to leave.

Later we talked and we both admitted that the first time we were more in lust than in love, but we did fall in love. Just like I mentioned in the previous story.

Making Cake

2010-05-12T10:54:00.001-07:00

A little girl and her mother were walking through the park. One day they saw two teenagers having sex on a bench.

The little girl asked: "Mummy, what are they doing?"

The mother hesitates then quickly replies: "Ummm they are making cakes."

The next day they are at a zoo and the little girl sees two monkeys having sex. Again she asks her mother what they are doing and her mother replies with the same response, "Making cakes."

The next day the girl says to her mother, "Mummy, you and Daddy were making cakes in the lounge last night, eh?"

Shocked, the mother asks: "How do you know?"

She says: "Because I licked the icing off the sofa!"

A Request For Help

2010-05-11T17:09:00.001-07:00

Warning: The following post contains very sensitive subject matter. Some parts may be very difficult to read.

The woman I am about to talk about will not be identified in any way. The only information will be what is in this post and I will very carefully read it before posting to make sure she is not identifiable. She and I met for the purpose of sex and we both enjoyed it enough to come back for more and also to hang out as friends at times. We were not exclusive to each other.

A short time after she I met and became friends (with benefits) we were chatting through an IM program. It did not take long for me to realize that something was wrong. With patience and just talking to her, I learned that she had been raped. Through the conversation I had also learned she wanted cigarettes (I don't smoke) and a specific soft drink. I convinced her to let me bring those to her.

A quick stop at the store, a few dollars spent, and then a few minutes later I was there for her. She sat with me in my vehicle and smoked her cigarette and drank her drink and told me what she could tell me. I just listened. I focused only on her. I could have been incredibly angry with the man who had done this to her, but I kept that emotion away from me. It wasn't what she needed. She just needed to feel ok again. To not feel so in shock and so hurt. I held her as she cried. I listened as she talked. I let her feel anything she needed to feel and I was simply there for her.

We stayed in touch, we hung out as friends. Sex was not an issue between us. I knew she would need to take as much time as she needed to feel safe to be with a man again. I never asked for anything other than her friendship and a couple of times her help with handling tasks that were a bit big for me alone.

After more time had passed. This one night she and I were talking on the phone, just talking about events of the days, things in our lives, and such. I guess I was distracted by something at the time because I didn't catch on that there was something on her mind. She was very nervous and very shy, and she asked me to have sex with her. She had not been with a man since that incident.

I have no idea how I found the voice to speak. But somehow I did. Somehow I let her know that I would, and I did the best I could to express how this made me feel. I was honored beyond words that she felt this safe with me. I was humbled that she saw in me a man she could trust to help her feel like a sexual woman again. Those two feelings were nearly overwhelming me then.

We made arrangements for her to spend the night with me.

I did not say anything to her about how nervous I was. How much I suddenly felt shy with her. She had become my friend instead of a lover. We were going to change that again. I was also very self conscious and thinking that if I did something wrong I could trigger a reaction in her. I wanted so much to be good for her and to be what she needed in a man at that time.

When the night came, she came over early enough to hang out. We had dinner, watched TV, chatted, and more. Finally bedtime arrived (there were others besides us two, thus the waiting), and I felt even more nervous than ever. I pushed that nervousness down, keeping it at bay so that she would not pick up on it (I hoped).

We undressed and got into bed with each other. I slid close to her and kissed her. I could sense her nervousness and also could sense she was determined not to let her nervousness stop her. I paused for just a moment and asked her if she was familiar with safe words. She wasn't. So I explained. I have a safe word. It is a word that is not related to sex, and if I hear it from someone I am playing a sexual game with, I stop. No matter how difficult it may be. I stop. If I have to just hold myself in a position and close my eyes to get myself under control, I do. I explained this to her and I gave her my safe word.

I could feel her relax when I told her this. We began kissing again. Everything I did. I moved slowly in doing. I felt like a teenager trying again to get the girl worked enough to have sex with me. In a sense, that is what I was doing. I didn't just want to have sex with her. I wanted her to have an experience that was as enjoyable as possible under the circumstances.

I kissed her lips and our tongues played. I lightly caressed her skin on her arms and ribs and the sides of her legs. I kissed her neck and felt her pulse and breathing increase under my tongue. I let my lips and hands roam further, touching and caressing more of her skin. Tasting her as I felt her body respond to what I was doing. I let her nipple slip between my lips and felt as well as heard the slight gasp of pleasure escape her lips.

I held her body closer, letting my bare skin rub against hers. Letting her feel me, letting her feel comfortable with me. Letting my body heat increase her desire. When I felt she was ready. I let my legs slip between hers. She willingly opened her legs for me. I felt both desire and nervousness from her. I felt my own nervousness intensify.

In that moment. I was scared. I was ready for her to say the safe word. Part of me would have felt relieved if she had. A bigger part of me would have felt disappointed though. I was there and ready to have sex, and even more importantly was doing what she had asked of me.

I did not pause in my nervousness. Hoping she would not notice how nervous I was. I did pause when my cock came into contact with her pussy. I let the head rest there for a moment, making sure she was aware of my cock ready to enter her. Letting her feel that soft head with the rigid shaft ready to bring her pleasure. I felt her shift her hips, instinctively or intentionally attempting to get my cock lined up to slide into her.

I shifted with her and reached between us to guide my cock to her waiting pussy. I teasingly and slowly brushed the head up and down the entrance, getting the head nice and wet. Enjoying the pleasure of how wet she had become before sliding into her.

I gently and cautiously allowed my cock to slide into her. She was so wet there was no resistance. I stopped when my cock was all the way just to gage how she was doing. Her breathing, soft moans, and the way she held me told me that desire had taken over. She was in pleasure, and the nervousness and fear were pushed aside.

I thrilled to feel this pleasure from her and opened myself to enjoy pleasuring her and letting myself feel the pleasure of having sex with her. I began thrusting, letting my cock slide back and forth along the walls of her pussy, letting it getting wetter and slicker.

She began encouraging me, asking for more, and I gave her what she asked for. I thrust faster, harder, driving my cock into her and making her cum again and again.

When I felt satisfied with her pleasure, I stopped holding my own back. I let it go and let my mind engage in the delicious sensations raging up and down the shaft of my cock. I became part of it, and it became as my body, encased in her. Delighting in her, taking me to the top of my pleasure and releasing it into her. Cumming and spurting deep inside of her pussy. Trembling and throbbing in my release. Gasping and moaning in my pleasure.

Until I was drained and no longer had the strength to hold myself up. Gently I lowered myself to kiss her lips. To smile against her face and to feel her satisfaction on so many levels. She had overcome her fear. She had overcome her nervousness, and she had felt the pleasure she missed throughout her body.

I still had no words for what it meant to me that she chose me like she did. I know there are so many men with good honest hearts who could have done as well. This is one memory that transcends sex for me.

A New Line

2010-05-10T10:20:00.000-07:00

I feel like I have stepped onto the rail and have just gotten my balance. Now I can try walking the line. I really hope that is not an abyss beside me that I could fall into.

There is a topic (aka person) who has been given too much of my blog space and I vow not to let that happen any longer.

I would think life shouldn't be overly busy for me at this point in time, and yet somehow it is. I feel as though I hardly have time to sit and write posts, or catch up on blogs and let everyone know I am here through comments.

I think it is time for me to pull up some very pleasant memories and get them written out. I hope you enjoy them.

What would you do?

2010-05-05T15:00:00.000-07:00

I hope this is where I wrap up my thoughts regarding the Canadian girl. I am starting to feel I have given too much of my blog space to her. I know why I have felt drawn to write out these feelings regarding her at this time, but for now I don't want to write out all of the reasons.

In two parts, I am asking here, what would you do? One is what would you do if you knew you had hurt someone as she had hurt me? The other is what would you do if you were the one who was hurt?

I had sitemeter set up on this blog so I could see who was coming to visit and where from. It was a means by which I could tell if she visited my blog. Since sitemeter seems to be gone and has been gone for who knows how many days, I no longer have that means to know if she has found my blog and found the things I said regarding her and my feelings about her. When I noticed that sitemeter was no longer available I began to wonder how she would react if she did find my blog. Would she acknowledge it? Leave a comment? Contact me another way? Write a post on her own blog? I choose not to read her blog anymore. Like I mentioned before, she used it as a means to hurt me. In a moment of anger I asked her to remove me from her blog, but she publicly (used her blog) accused me of trying to bully her (did I mention I think she isn't very smart?).

One thing remains true. I do wish she would completely remove me from her blog. I feel that my involvement with her was an incredibly stupid mistake and I wish that mistake was removed from all public availability. I wish the reminder of the pain was removed so that I could know it was not there for anyone to see. I guess those feelings make me a bully (did I mention I think she lacks empathy?).

What would you do if you stumbled across (or in any other way) found the writings of someone you had been in a relationship with? What if you learned that person felt you had hurt them? Would you ignore their feelings? Pretend they do not matter? Assume the person is mistaken and let them live with that mistake by your silence?

Those are sample questions from my mind, but I am curious to other's thoughts. How do you handle learning that you have hurt someone? What do you do with someone from your past if you know you have hurt them? I know what her reaction has been. I just wonder if her reaction was something normal, or if what she did justifies my feelings that she is not a decent human being.

What about my side of it. Why does this pain still linger? Why do I still want to make her listen to everything? To all of the turmoil and anguish I feel she put me through? Why do I want so much for her to know and acknowledged that what she did was wrong? That I deserved better than how she treated me, that I deserved better than her.

What should I do? I tried lots of sex, but it didn't really help. I tried taking a quiet break to myself. It still didn't help. I tried contacting her, but that only served to make things worse (because she tried being very uppity and pretending that she had done nothing wrong, but everything was my fault). What is left for me to try to do to excise her from my heart, from my mind, and from my life entirely? Since there is no sign that there will ever be amends, I truly would remove every last memory I have of her if such a thing were possible. I think she would never understand that concept.

Justifying Emotions

2010-05-04T14:51:00.000-07:00

I know a woman who has traveled some dark trails that I would describe as darker than my own. The things that one man did to her went far beyond what is acceptable emotionally, physically, and legally.

A lot of time has passed since then, and she has gone through a lot of life and healing. But the pain of what she went through is still there. I know because I held her close while she cried on my shoulder.

One night we sat on the couch talking. It started with her holding me because I was recovering from a minor injury. But our talk went back to the pain she felt still. She talked about the man who had hurt her.

She explained to me how she wished she could go to him and just tell him every word of anger and hurt and shame she had ever felt because of him. Something she knew would not do any good. But still she wanted him to hear it, and to know it, and to acknowledge that he had hurt her.

She asked me why she would want to do something like that.

I understood. I knew. I had a moment of clarity and was able to explain it to her. Because of the Canadian girl I described before, I understood my friend's emotions. Neither of us was given a chance to voice the hurt, the pain, and the anger we felt to the one who caused that pain and anger. The person who hurt us kept themselves separate from what they had done to us.

It was if what we felt, what we thought did not matter at all to the person who caused the harm.

Even though it had been more than two decades since this woman had been hurt, and even though the man who hurt her would likely be dead soon, she still wanted him to acknowledge what he had done. She wanted to him to admit that what he did was wrong and for him to apologize for it.

Just like my friend who has lived with her pain for so long, and knows that it won't do any good to attempt to contact the man who hurt her, I am trying live with mine, and realize it is no use to attempt to contact the person who hurt me.

Middle of the Night

2010-05-03T20:56:00.000-07:00

Do you know that feeling you get when the phone rings in the middle of the night? You know. You are there sleeping peacefully, perhaps in the middle of a dream of any sort, and the phone starts ringing? When I say middle of the night, I mean anytime between midnight and 5am middle of the night. When I say ringing phone, I mean it sounds way too loud because the entire house is way too quiet. It shocks you awake, but not completely awake.

There I am. Lying in bed, hearing the phone ringing. Going through the flash of thoughts of what could be wrong. Who could be hurt. What happened and who needs help. Somehow, in my sleep induced fog state, I recognize the ring tone. It is ES. But what could be happening? Why would she call me at this time?

I answer. She is just getting off work, and she is wide awake, and she wants something. Something she knows she won't get at home. Would I be willing to help her out? Oh seriously, we are talking about the Steel Horseman here. You know exactly what I answered (a post about going back to sleep would be rather boring I suspect).

I unlocked the front door for her. I went back and waited in my nice warm bed. It was cold out, the heater had been running off and on through the night. When ES arrived, she let herself in and quietly snuck up to my room. She undressed and climbed under the covers with me. Her skin was thoroughly chilled from the wintry air outside. I shifted her into the bed where I had just been laying, where it was warmest, and I held her close to warm up her skin.

I could sense she was ready, but I just couldn't bring myself to start before she was warmer. I have no idea why. Besides, it gave us a moment to just talk a few minutes first, which meant a chance for me to wake up a little more and be as ready as she was.

Like I said. She was ready. She didn't need any foreplay, she needed to be warm, and she needed me inside of her. After her skin was warm, I was morning than willing to oblige. The memory seems so hazy now. I guess I was more tired than I realized.

I do remember that delicious feel of sliding into the wet slippery folds of her pussy. The feel of her body under me, and the quiet noises of pleasure she made are things I did not forget. I felt I could last as long as I wanted, and knew that I couldn't take too long, she did need return home to her husband and her own bed.

So I fucked. I gave her what she came for. I knew she didn't wake me in the middle of the night so she could have a slow sensual moment of love making. She came to me wet and ready to fuck and I gave her a fuck. I picked up my pace and pistoned my cock in and out of her slippery pussy.

I felt her tensing up under me, her moans increasing with orgasm approaching. And it came so quickly. She came quickly and she came hard. I could feel her pussy squirting around my cock and I loved it. I could feel the increased wetness and how much slicker and hotter her pussy felt around my cock.

I slowed down just to savor that feeling, but it took my control away. All of my mind and all of my body gave into the pleasure of sliding into this super wet pussy and in only a few strokes I was cumming inside of her. My body rigid and I pushed as deeply into her body as I could manage. Releasing all of my cum, my energy, and my orgasm deeply into her.

Tired, exhausted, and sleepy, I laid on the bed beside her. We took only moments to catch our breath before she got out of the bed to get dressed and return home. I got up as well and gathered a towel. A towel to place on the bed so that I wouldn't sleep wet spot that was quickly growing cold.

Treat Her Like a Queen

2010-05-01T20:37:00.000-07:00

I was going back through my blog posts (I do that sometimes) and saw that I had written that I wanted to write a post about relationships and the concept of treating a woman like a Queen. I made that promise back on March 15th. Of course I went through some pretty serious emotional stuff, which got combined with some really serious life changing stuff. But thankfully it was all written down and I got my reminder to write this post.

Here is where it begins. I have heard it said very often that a man needs to treat a woman like a queen in a relationship. I think this is a very noble sentiment, and I would say a sentiment very worthy of thought.

My thoughts. What does it really mean to be a Queen, and how one should be treated. Right now Elizabeth II is the Queen of England. From my perspective she is very much loved and respected and treated grandly in so many ways. She has a very grand name to live up to. Queen Elizabeth (1558 - 1603). Another very loved Queen of England, and treated grandly with and with great respected, and immortalized in the history books.

Why is this? Because both of these women took care of the country they were in charge of. They loved their people, and gave their lives to care for those people with the power and responsibility granted a Queen.

What happens when a woman does not love her people enough or handle the responsibilities of ruling a country? Then history might remember her as Bloody Mary. Of course that would be the best she could hope for.

How about this example of not handling ruling a country well.

Marie Antoinette - After less than 20 years as Queen of France was beheaded by the very people she was supposed to care for.

Or what about the lives of Henry the VIII's wives? I think it safe to say that in this case, the will of the King superseded the life of the Queens. All they had to do was what he asked of them (produce a male heir - and other duties) and their lives would not have been forfeited.

So what about this concept of being treated like a Queen? For one thing. Take those responsibilities seriously. You definitely don't want the people rising up in a revolution. Second, make sure the King is kept happy, or he will end up looking elsewhere. After that, being treated like a Queen should come naturally, but not promises are guaranteed by me, Google, or any other agencies or person who may or may not have been related to the writing of this post.

Met A Blogger

2010-04-30T11:28:00.000-07:00

Recently I had the opportunity to meet Gillette. A blogger I have known for years. You may have noticed that this blog has only been going since November. I used to blog under a different identity and had a very different blog (a lot less sex). I closed that blog for personal reasons and when I felt it had served out its purpose in my life. It reached a point where I no longer felt the desire to continue to try and evolve it, so now it lies in an archive. But that isn't what this post is about.

I had the opportunity to visit the area where Gillette currently lives (she is kind of Nomadic like me). So I didn't pass it up. We exchanged a flurry of emails leading up to the day I could be in town and agreed to meet at a breakfast place she chose. I won't reveal any details about where she lives (such as names of restaurants, or other places we visited). I have no desire to say something here which could reveal her true identity.

Now first, a little about Gillette. Currently she is a sex coach (and looking at my older posts in this blog, maybe I could use some more coaching - :-) smiley face inserted). In another part of her life, she was a courtesan (if you prefer, you could say prostitute - but I like thinking of her as a courtesan).

We were not meeting with me as a client in any form. Gillette and I are friends. We have different points of view politically, religiously, and in other ways. But we fully respect each other and each other's points of view. That is what we really like about each other. We see too much animosity in the world over religion and politics, that we really like each other for being able to accept each other's differences.

So I made this trip to where she lives and we met at a restaurant for a late breakfast. The restaurant was just perfect for that. They had a very nice selection of breakfast items (I chose a a ham and cheese omelette, and Gillette may reveal what she chose if she likes).

The waitress was a very pretty young girl who I was happy to see each time she came by. She also did a good job of getting our food order right and kept us well supplied with coffee.

Our conversation was light and general through most of breakfast, and it took nearly all of our food before I saw what I most wanted to see. Through reading her blog, I have come to see Gillette as a very vibrant and alive woman. As our conversation progressed she opened up to her true self and I could see the vibrant and alive woman in front of me. I could feel her energy coming across the table in waves that I could feel through my person. This was exactly why I wanted to meet her in person. I wanted to be in the presence of this energy.

We talked a variety of topics, from things that made us laugh, to bloggers we mutually know, to sadness we have both experienced in life, and so much more. When I say so much more, you know there was definitely sex talk involved.

I was actually surprised to learn that I am too young for Gillette. Yep, her tastes are more for the gentlemen older than me (I won't say by how much, but it was a fun factoid to learn). We talked about our blogs, our sex lives, likes and dislikes. I know the pretty young waitress got quite the earful coming by our table as much as she did. Much credit to her as she did not become judgmental, embarrassed, or overly curious.

As Gillette and I prepared to leave the restaurant, I made it a point to tell the waitress that I thought her eyes were very pretty (which was a very honest statement). Her face lit up with a bright smile and some light flirtation which told me she thought I was just a bit old for her (wow, I couldn't seem to win at all on this day).

Gillette and I walked and did some shopping for things we both wanted. We went to a local park and she gave me the $2 tour. Unfortunately, my chest still hurts from whatever injury I sustained, so I ended up holding her back from her normal pace.

We came back to our vehicles where we parted with a warm hug and a kiss and a promise to stay in touch. A promise we have both kept. As you can tell, I didn't mention when she and I met, or how much time has passed since then. She and I may keep that secret between us for now.

What I came away with is this. Gillette is as beautiful in person as she comes across as in her blog. The energy she gives off is clearly attractive to those around her (as I witnessed through interacting with others). Having the opportunity to meet her was well worth traveling a bit out of my way, and if the chance comes, I shall probably do it again.

I also would like to meet more bloggers in person. For a variety of reasons of course.

Troubled

2010-04-29T09:16:00.000-07:00

There is one country which causes my mind to feel troubled. Logically this is without rhyme or reason, but why do emotions care about logic anyway. It is not this country's fault, but rather it is the fault of just one person in that country.

She and I had a long distance relationship last summer. There is clearly no doubts that being in that relationship was a terrible mistake on my part. I had too many issues that needed to be dealt with instead of getting into a relationship. I didn't deal with them and the result is that I took things harder than necessary.

I try to be logical about what happened and the differences between her and I. But I think my emotions are tainting my logic. It is either that, or I am seeing clearly that she was not a good person at all.

The end of the relationship was her fault, not mine, but she blames me. I don't say that lightly. I thought through it and thought through it and can only come to that conclusion. See, she changed. She changed the rules of contact. She changed what was acceptable or not acceptable and sent me the unspoken message that I was to accept those changes or I would pay dearly for not giving her what she wanted (paying dearly were words that she actually used within the message context).

After it was over, she comes out on her blog playing the victim and getting all of the sympathy votes she can muster. But that isn't realistic. Her words and actions caused me pain, and she was fully aware that she caused me pain. Yet instead of acknowledging what she did, she chooses instead to get people to feel sorry for her and talk about how I screwed up and didn't deserve someone like her.

That isn't right though. I am aware of my value as a man. I am aware that I am worth so much more than she deserves with that attitude. I have already been through fire. I am too young to have seen a wife pass away, but I was there, and did everything I could to make her comfortable through the end. I put in my time and effort to secure a good career to provide a comfortable living. I put time and effort into learning how to take care of my home and my cars. I enjoy quite a variety of hobbies and interests. I also know that I am considered quite attractive (or at least I have been told this many times). Like I said. I am aware of my value as a man well beyond what I think I am capable of sexually (which you have had a chance to read about in the earlier posts).

A woman who cannot own up to her mistakes, and apologize sincerely for them does not deserve a man like me. A woman who chooses to play the victim and make a man look bad instead of admitting that she actually did something wrong (especially on a blog where several people knew both of us) does not deserve a man like me in her life, not even as a friend.

But what to do about the entire country? She was the only person I ever knew from this country and it is all I have to really represent them. You would think that since we share a very large border, and that it is the second largest country in the world, I could realize this and not feel anxiety every time I think about this one country.

But I do feel anxiety. Everything about Canada is related to one person to me. I couldn't enjoy the winter Olympics because one person made the forefront of the country. I can't enjoy seeing news, music, or any other types of video clips regarding Canada in some way without feeling some negative emotion.

Maybe she was right about something. Maybe I am a troubled man. But I know that I treated her well (as well as distance allowed) and did not deserve to have that aired out in her blog where there were people who knew both of us. I think she truly does not realize that those words were the last thing she did that really hurt me. The only things she said to me after that were things to cause me to think that she is far less intelligent than she claims to be and that she is far less empathetic that she wishes for people to think she is.

Changes 2

2010-04-27T12:57:00.001-07:00

I have completed the geographical changes I mentioned in my last post. Currently I am in the midst of the career changes, and basically in survival mode.

That kind of mind set distracts me from the memories I could call forth and write about. I don't consider myself a perfectionist, but I do want to write something that really is worth reading (this post won't count). So I am holding off on writing out those memories until I feel I can give them the time and thought they deserve to be here for you to read.

Also included in the distraction is all of the new surroundings. Learning new street names, and where what is, or where who is.

I am still the same person. The part of me that loved writing this blog is just kind of hiding behind a part driven to take care of responsibilities in the real world instead of the virtual one.

I will be back in a matter of time. Of that I am sure. I am also looking forward to feeling like I have time to relax and catch up on your blogs.

Changes

2010-04-07T19:56:00.001-07:00

I am way behind on reading blogs. Part of this is due to the emotional turmoil of the past month. I thought for a while I would keep that out of this blog, but I had to be the man that I am, and that was part of me.

The other part is that I am going through some extreme life changes right now. These changes include career and geography, and I have very limited time regarding both.

I look forward to getting life kind of back to normal. There will be some sex changes in my life too. But that doesn't mean the blog has to really change. I can still write some stories (I have lots of things I have done in the past that haven't come out here). I can open up to discussing my opinions on sexual topics and relationships. There is plenty that can be here.

All I need is the time to be able to sit and write. Also, to get through the current changes.

Stumble To Fall

2010-04-02T21:16:00.000-07:00

Ok. I made though a difficult month and even have a few new scars and changes to go along with it. At the moment. I am whatever about it. I could use a few heavy drinks I think.

I am coming back to what I am. Which means this blog will come back to being a decent sex blog. I don't know how long that will take. There are some really major changes happening right now. It kind of makes things difficult for me to simply sit and write. I will get there though.

Enjoy this video. I don't think YouTube will allow it to stay on after it gets complained about.

The Ring

2010-03-31T17:30:00.000-07:00

A measure of distance. A measure of time.

It is one ring.

Within the universe, at the time of this posting, I am physically as close to the same location where my life dramatically changed.

I have completed numerous trips around this ring. This one trip seems very significant. Because it is very significant.

I don't know if I'll be around tonight to read comments, or emails. I have to face the significance of this night in my own way. And somehow that seems the most honorable thing to do.

Maybe a candle. Maybe a time of just being quiet and reflecting on the rings which led to this recent ring.

Maybe reflect on the ring that no longer rests on the third finger of my left hand.

Hello

2010-03-30T16:30:00.000-07:00

My Immortal

2010-03-29T16:30:00.000-07:00

Winter

2010-03-28T17:04:00.000-07:00

Everytime

2010-03-28T07:00:00.000-07:00

Save Me From Myself

2010-03-27T16:55:00.000-07:00

Jackie's Stregnth

2010-03-27T07:00:00.000-07:00

Who Wants To Live Forever

2010-03-26T16:46:00.000-07:00

Close My Eyes Forever

2010-03-26T07:00:00.000-07:00

Understanding

2010-03-25T21:00:00.000-07:00

Restless

2010-03-25T16:28:00.001-07:00

Nine

2010-03-22T17:16:00.001-07:00

I recall as a youth watching a horse race on television. I didn't know anything about horse racing other than a bunch of horses with funny names and numbers running around a track. At the beginning of a race. I thought maybe seven would win because that is the lucky number. But something inside me argued with that logic and said that nine would win. I had no rhyme nor reason to choose number nine. But my illogical mind stuck to number seven.

Number nine won that race.

So I adopted nine as my lucky number. Just as I had a favorite color, favorite food, and other favorites, I now had a favored number. Even though it has not truly been the lucky number (too much randomness in the universe I think). I have stayed with it as my lucky number.

Tonight I am not thinking of nine as my lucky number. It is not my unlucky number either. But still I cannot call it neutral either. So I have no definition for nine right now. Except that there are some words that come to mind and kind of seem to fit in an odd sort of way.

With the striking of midnight, and for a period of 24 hours, nine will become a ghost, or perhaps a phantom. It is something that could have been, but will not be. It is a marker of what might have been. I am not afraid of the number nine, nor do I fear those numbers which will follow it. But I admit to being saddened by it. Perhaps the other numbers will not make me as sad, I can hope so, and feel no shame in the thought that they might.

I think tomorrow I will light a candle and drink a toast to number nine.

Darkness

2010-03-18T20:52:00.000-07:00

The current trail is dark indeed. I knew it was coming. I could see it from almost a year away. Now it is here.

I didn't expect the complications. I didn't expect physical pain to be here now. I didn't expect overwhelming stress through my chosen career.

At this point. Writing about sex is not an option. Writing about what is tearing me apart inside is not an option. I have reached a point where even writing anything seems beyond my ability.

There is an amount of time before this trail will be passed. I will get through. I have gotten through worse. One step at a time. One breath at a time. One teardrop at a time.

Maybe It was a Good Day

2010-03-15T19:09:00.000-07:00

As mentioned in my last post. I went to the ER last week. As of this writing, I am still in pain (and it fricken sucks). But I got to thinking. There had to be something good about it. Well, actually there was. And it was something I can share here.

So I get to the ER (someone drove me there). I tell reception why I am there. In minutes a nurse has me hooked up to an EKG (really cold leads, thanks miss). Then back out for blood pressure and too much paperwork. A few more minutes and I am back into the ER area. A blonde guy hooks me up to the machines (more cold leads - thanks dude). Tells me the nurse will be by in a moment.

The nurse comes in, and I am happy to note she is attractive. Brunette, hazel eyes, and a nice figure. She starts with the questions and making sure machines are hooked up properly and all that. Then another nurse comes in to do the IV. Also cute, and some nice curves. At this point I made the mistake of showing that I have great veins for doing an IV. It is actually true. I can almost get a good vein to show without a tourniquet.

Like I said. It was a mistake to saying and showing I had nice veins. She put the needle in the back of my hand and totally missed the mark. Yep. If I was a Masochist, I woulda been in heaven right then. I am not a Masochist. So first nurse joins second nurse and one of them says something about torture. First nurse is gently holding my hand (not complaining about that) and moving that needle all around to try and find the right spot.

So I finally told them I would tell them anything they wanted to know. I would sing if it would help. They got a laugh, and then finally gave up on that vein and went to another one. I hardly felt the needle and they had a great spot. Then the doctor comes in (male - and I am not gay), and we talk about the pain in my chest, and since the two nurses are still present, I crack another joke about pain in my hand.

They start me on Nitro. And first cute nurse gets me a warm blanket (thank goodness), it was fricken cold in there. I stay quiet and listen to the groans of a patient nearby (he whined a bit much). I play solitaire, I send text messages. I just pass the time.

Then comes the X-Ray tech with the portable X-Ray machine on wheels. And ok, what have I been missing. The X-Ray tech is young, curly blonde hair, crystal blue eyes, and has the body of a high school cheerleader. Yeah. She is totally cute, and probably gets way too much attention from dirty older men like me (I am what I am). She took the X-Ray, had to move on, but not before I clearly told her she had pretty eyes. I wasn't looking for a date, so it really was an honest compliment. No idea if she thought that or not. Who cares? I don't. I hope I don't see her there again (meaning I don't want to go back).

I spotted another cute young nurse (or assistance - hard to tell which) and asked her to get my nurse when she could. A few minutes later my nurse comes back, and I was so glad because I really needed to use the restroom (it had been a few hours by now). She asked if I wanted another gown, and I replied that I did sign a privacy statement (yes, more jokes). She got me another gown, I went, all was good again. She even got me a couple more warm blankets (she was cold too, even let me touch her skin so I could tell she was cold).

Eventually the lab work, the monitors, and the x-ray (but not the tech, damn it) all came back and my heart was ok. The doctor didn't evaluate the cause of pain. Told me to take a day off from work and go see my doctor right away.

Cute nurse comes back to unhook me from the machines and to take out the IV. While doing that, Mr. Whiny guy says please knock me out. She was close to my head at that moment, so I quietly said that it was really tempting. She asked if I wanted a job. We both had a quiet laugh and smile over that one.

I wished her a good day, then she left so I could get dressed and get out of there. So overall it wasn't my worse day ever.

Just one final thought. I have been thinking about a concept lately, and wanted to plant the thought in other minds. I have heard it often said that in a relationship, the woman should be treated like a Queen. Or wants a man who will treat her like a Queen. I am trying to get a good understanding of this within my own warped mind. So when I feel I have something, I will post about it. In the meantime. Thoughts are welcome.

Not My Good Day

2010-03-09T17:08:00.000-08:00

I do not like going to the hospital. I do not like going to the emergency room.

Simply too many difficult memories involved.

But after sitting there in a very cold room (temperature).

I played solitaire to pass the time.

I kept in touch with my friends by text.

I flirted with a couple cute nurses (generic flirting, no serious attempt to get into their pants).

Having someone with me instead of being alone would have been nice.

In the end. My heart seems to be ok. I should go see another doc to get a more thorough work up to be sure. Also it would be nice to identify why it was and still is hurting in the first place.

This is the kind of thing that doesn't really leave me in the mood to write a really hot and steamy sex post. I am sure I'll get back to it though. I am pretty sure you can't keep this horseman down.

**UPDATE** As mentioned above, my heart is ok. I have some inflammation in my the cartilage in my sternum. It's weird, and its painful, and it seems lots of people end up going to the ER when this happens. Ok. That's enough personal stuff for now.

E-Lust #9

2010-03-09T15:21:00.001-08:00

HNT Courtesy of Margaret at They Belong to Us

for updates!

~ This Week’s Top Three Posts ~

Start Without Me - It’s for when one of us is too tired, or not in the mood, or out of town, or the other of us is too horny to wait. But now, here, right in front of me, you’re touching yourself, playing yourself, and it is the fucking hottest thing I’ve ever seen.

Wicked Tongues - There are so many different ways that a mouth can connect themselves with my cunt. And so many partners, each with their own way of connecting with me.

"Vanilla" Bigotry - I effectively retired my personal usage of the word “vanilla” when one of these sick fucks told me that he hated that term. He said it was condescending, and the implication that kinky people have any idea what goes on in other people’s bedrooms just because they aren’t fucking around in a dungeon was ridiculous.

~ e[lust] Editress ~

Audible - More hushed giggles, more kissing sounds. A gasp followed immediately by a quiet, restrained moan. I had to make up the images in my head, try to picture what caused that gasp, who’s mouth was on what body part. Or was it even a mouth?

~ Featured Post (Lilly’s Pick) ~

Swing Shift Volume 33- We're "Sexually Festive!" - What I do know is that I love Veronica now more than ever, that we choose our extra-marital partners with care and respect, and never fail to remember that our primary relationship is the most important one. If we’re considered sluts or promiscuous by others, so what?

See also: Pleasurists #66 and #67 for all your sex toy review needs.

All blogs that have a submission in this edition must re-post this digest from tip-to-toe on their blogs within 7 days. Re-posting the photo is optional and the use of the “read more…” tag is allowable after this point. Thank you, and enjoy!

Sex News, Interviews, Politics & Humor

Babeland Store Dream
Spend an Evening with Madison Young and Help Support the Arts
Partner rape, cryptids, and other crazy myths

Thoughts & Advice on Sex & Relationships

Anal Sex for Beginners
Choosing the right partner in poly relationships
Controlling or Petty?
Dating and Fucking
In response to: Gang Bang Curiosity
Intoxicative Healing
Reflection
Status Uterus Orgasmus
Therapy - Two Years
The Lost Art of the Hand Job
Time and Punishment: Some dynamics of male chastity in marriage
We Don't Need No Education?
You Make My Tummy Funny

Kink & Fetish

Another Friday Story Time
BDSM -- Abuse and Consent
Creating Space in Kink
Discovered
Ferocity
I am in trouble
Method: Episode Two
Nightly Spanking
Orgasm Control
Sex And Sadness
The Hands of a Goddess
The Day...
Wake-up call
What About the Children

Erotic Writing

Art Wednesday
Are You Watching Me? (3rd and Final Part)
An Afternoon Delight
Back To My Old Tricks
Climax At Midnight #6
controlling the beast
Group Post: "The Day...."
Harmony
Local
No Sex: Need Sleep
Pack It Up...Pack It In
Performance
Solo Session with B
Slam
The Good Kind of Wake-up Call
That Kind Of Girl...Who Gets Off In A Crowded Bar
The Hammer
The Threesome
The Golden Goddess
The Stranger
The realest thing
Wicked Wednesday: Date Night

Apologize

2010-03-06T11:11:00.000-08:00

This is unrelated to yesterday's post. I know yesterday was very cryptic. I did that on purpose. It was something in me I needed to write, but could not bring in myself to fully explain here in this forum.

I am about to reveal something personal about me. Which is that I am about to reveal a little about my age. I am at a point in my life where it has been more than 25 years since I began dating as a teenager.

In the entire time since I began dating, there has never been one time that a relationship came to an end and was followed by an apology from the woman for anything. I mean zip. And zilch. And absolutely nothing.

It did not matter what I had felt. It did not matter if I had been hurt. It did not matter what I thought. I was just a man. Why should my feelings matter?

Is this truly the state of the fairer gender? Or was it something to do with me?

Well I will say here that I matter. What I feel matters. What I wanted, desired, and needed mattered and matters now.

This week I did receive an apology. The requirement before I received the apology was that I had to apologize first. I find it a sad state among the genders that when two person's feelings were hurt, the male had to be the one to apologize first. Even after almost 20 years, and after I had reached out to her before. It was required that I reach out again, and that I apologize again.

Back to that apology though. It touched something deep within me. I feel no anger that this is the way it played out. I feel something new, and something that I think is good. The pain deep inside has been touched and feels less sensitive. I think that is a good thing.

Ashes

2010-03-05T18:27:00.000-08:00

May this journey be safe.

May you find peace at the end.

On this your final journey.

Scorpion and Swan

2010-03-04T17:19:00.001-08:00

One day a scorpion arrived at a river. She wanted to cross but knew she wouldn't be able to swim against the current. She looked over and saw a beautiful swan swimming along the other shore.

She called out to the swan and asked if he would carry her on his back to the other side. The swan was uncertain because the scorpion was known to be dangerous.

The scorpion asked again, with a promise to not harm the swan. And even pointed out that if she stung the swan, then she would die in the current.

The swan figured there was no risk. After all, why would the scorpion sting a creature that was helping it?

So he swam over and allowed the scorpion to climb onto his back. About half-way across the river, the scorpion stung the swan and as they were being swept away by the current the swan asked: "Why did you sting me?"

The scorpion responded: "It is my nature. It's what I do."

A wise young woman once asked me if I had a scorpion. She already knew the answer, but I told her anyway about the woman who was my scorpion.

Ripples

2010-03-03T16:46:00.000-08:00

I am going to quote a post from Barefoot Dreamer about Ripples.

You yell at him, he gets short with the cashier, she takes it out on the next customer, who then yells at the friend who is late, who then in turns gets upset and leaves. That friend who was late goes home in a huff and yells at her children... who did nothing.

Our actions effect others. We are not individuals in this world separated from all others. A drop of water from your water bottle can float down the river and head into the ocean - or evaporate along the way and rain down on the next state over.

What we do matters. How we act or don't. Our daily lives effect the world in a way we will never understand while we walk it as humans. A word, a suggestion, a thought, a friendship, a helping hand can make changes that we may never have the chance to see.

Make sure your impact is a positive one. The ripples spread far my friend.

Now back to me. In 2004, a really strong earthquake hit in a kind of remote ocean area. That earthquake produced some ripples that reached out to thousands of miles away. But what is a ripple to the ocean, is a tsunami to the land that it hit.

That place where those ripples started could not see how far the ripples went, nor could it see the damage those ripples caused. Sometimes life is like that for us as well. We do something that cause ripples, and those ripples can extend outward to cause damage that we could not predict, nor even see.

I faced the knowledge of my ripples today. It was not a pleasant experience in any way. What should have been something small, just a little ripple in the water, grew into something bigger, and more damaging that I could have guessed.

Do I know it is not all my fault? Yes. I know this. My heart will need a bit of time to catch up to what my mind knows. But I can see with incredible clarity that little changes in my actions and little changes in my words could have changed a life in a extraordinary ways. I don't know if that would have been better or worse. I only know that changes would have been huge.

I hope I didn't start another ripple by taking Barefoot Dreamers' post without asking first.

Neat Trick

2010-02-28T17:57:00.001-08:00

This story involves a girl whose name I cannot remember. This will be the only post for her because the relationship was just too short. Then I think to myself. How shall I identify her to you? We shall call her beach girl. She was the only one I ever had sex with on a beach (there were others very near beaches, but that isn't quite as sandy).

We were at a beach party. She and I had hit it off pretty good, and what she wanted was pretty clear. How clear? Well, another guy who I wouldn't have called the brightest told me during the party that I was going to get laid. Well, I knew that, I just didn't realize it that obvious to everyone else.

So there is a bunch of us on the beach, with a fire going, and drinks getting passed around, and some serious flirting between beach girl and I. Like I said, she knew exactly what she wanted, and she was building up to it very nicely. Enough drinks in her system to be nicely buzzed (and I was only a little less buzzed), and she decided she didn't want to wait to get back to the housing we lived in.

She took my hand and we went for a little walk. Well outside the light of the fire. Behind a dune. The sounds of the party noticeably diminished. She led me to the ground, kissing me as she sat down, then laid back with me over her.

Patience was not her virtue right now. She had wanted me for several hours at this point, and the drinking and the flirting had just made her want me more. She was well past any desire for foreplay. She was past any concerns of being on a public beach (though it was a dark night), and past concerns of anyone from the party interrupting us. She wanted me hard, and she wanted me inside of her.

In moments her skirt was up and her panties were off. My pants were pushed down just enough to free my engorged cock. Ready, willing, and and heading straight for her soaking wet pussy. Her bare ass rested in the gritty sand and she didn't care one bit.

In moments my cock was deep inside of her. Buried to the hilt while we both just enjoyed that incredible feeling of completing the joining. The happy and pleasant feeling of cock and pussy first fully coming together.

But once that feeling is enjoyed, it is time to get really into the moment. I started stroking easily. She was so wet my cock slid in and out without any resistance. Her pussy just wrapped itself around my cock with silken pleasure up and down the entire shaft.

It was just way too much and in moments I was cumming. Shooting my load into her. I could feel it running through my cock and into her with each spurt. I was so embarrassed that I didn't last long that I kept myself quiet and just kept sliding in and out of her.

Somehow I stayed completely hard. Now you might think that is a neat trick. I guess it is. But lets hear the rest of this story.

She had not had her orgasm yet. Also, somehow she didn't notice I had just cum inside her (I may have underestimated how much she had to drink). So I didn't tell her. I just kept fucking her. It wasn't hard, or punishing. I was aware that each thrust would grind her ass into the sand, and I was trying to make it pleasure without causing discomfort.

I let my cock slide in and of her even wetter pussy. Patiently and consistently my cock thrust into and out of her pussy. With my orgasm out of the way, I could focus on her and make adjustments to build her pleasure until she had her orgasm. Which is exactly what I did. I stayed patient and let it build slowly. I didn't rush her to cum faster, even when I felt the shivers in her body as she tensed up with the building orgasm. I didn't try to force it, or race it or anything. I just let her body enjoy the pleasure, and enjoy the growing tension. I let her cum when she was ready and not when I made it happen.

She had a beautiful and wonderful orgasm. Clinging to me, gasping for breath, and holding in the screams of pleasure. She rode through wave after wave of her orgasm, and I rode them with her, letting her body use mine for this pleasure.

Eventually she subsided. Then she decided it was time for me to cum. She had enjoyed her orgasm and now she wanted to make me cum inside of her.

Oh darn. There wasn't much chance of me doing that anytime in the next 15 to 20 minutes, if even that fast. She was determined though. She moved her body and used her hands to maximum effect to cause pleasure to make me cum. But it just wasn't going to happen like that.

I was faced with a terrible choice. Do I admit to her that I already came and she didn't notice? Or do I fake it?

I didn't want to feel embarrassed about not lasting, so I chose to fake it. I have no idea of any guy anywhere in the world has ever faked an orgasm before. I don't even know if one has tried to. But I intended to fake it, and fake it so well that beach girl would be completely convinced that I just came (instead of like I did earlier).

I started fucking her faster. Sliding my cock into and out of her pussy and creating more friction. She responded by touching me more, kissing me more, and letting me know through her body language that she wanted to feel me cum.

I began to tense to my muscles. Hoping I was tensing them just right. I started gasping and catching my breath like I was trying to hold onto my orgasm. She encouraged me, wanting me to just let go, knowing I would hold on a moment longer. I did. Holding my muscles tense for just that bit longer then I thrust into her. I gasped with pleasure, not letting myself be too loud (lest any partiers hear me). I let out a low growl.

With my cock thrust into her, I began making it throb. I worked the muscles sending pulses of blood from base to tip, like it was throbbing with orgasm inside of her. She felt my cock throbbing and squeezed her pussy muscles around my cock while she made a sound of satisfied delight for having caused me to cum inside of her. I kept my cock throbbing inside her until my muscles couldn't keep going, and I let myself go limp and rest on her. She held me there. Caressing my back, and enjoying the feel of my cock inside of her.

I guess I made my dick tired with the fake orgasm, as it began to shrink inside of her. I thought of how much more realistic this made the fake orgasm. But wisely kept my mouth shut, instead I just let my tired breathing be the only sound in her ear. In time we got up and returned to the party, where the police showed up shortly afterwards to let everyone know the beach was closed.

Little did I know that my first experience with sex on a beach would one day be immortalized here because I had performed a neat trick.

Return of FL

2010-02-25T18:03:00.000-08:00

This one isn't a sex post. You know, just in case you want to pass on reading my ramblings.

A long time ago. I dated FL in high school. I have pictures of when I took her to senior prom, and when she was at my side at graduation. Then there was summer which I barely remember followed by leaving to another city to attend a major University. I came back and visited family, friends, and FL on some weekends.

Somewhere along the way I got these stars in my eyes. I was going to parties, and there were so many pretty girls, and so much about the world to learn, and people were so free and it was all incredible. A few months into this college life I returned to home town and I broke up with FL. I watched as she cried, and part of me wanted to cry with her, and another part was thinking how I could go out with so many women and parties and not feel guilty because I would be free to do that.

I learned later that those stars were empty illusions. But by then FL had moved on. She had a young child, and though she wasn't with the father, she was still moving on. I had lost her, and that frustrated me. It frustrated me because it was my fault and I knew it. In my frustration I did and said some things that hurt her even more than before, both as a woman and as a mother.

On another day I saw her at the place where she worked. Her posture and her voice conveyed her anger with me very clearly. My last memory of her were those angry words, and the anger so unmistakable in her body language.

It kind of ate at me that I had left her in that state of anger like I did. She and I had so many great memories, and those memories were suffocated underneath that final memory of anger. Anger that I felt I had earned.

I can't begin to say how many times I wished I could go back and say I am sorry. To say that I wish I could take back those words, and those actions. Of course taking them back isn't possible. Also, I know and understand why I did what I did. I won't let that be an excuse. Just a recognition of what was going through my brain at the time.

To say that she never left my mind would be a true statement. I guess about two years ago I started trying to find her. I joined a Facebook as part of that effort. Her real name is just too popular (something like more than 500 came up). I started a group for my high school graduation and class and started friending as many of them as I possibly could.

I would query them now and then in the hopes someone would be able to get me back in touch with FL. But either no one knew her, or had no idea what had happened to her after graduation. The search seemed to be in vain. So I just used Facebook like most others. Occasional posts. Occasional mess with the games or whatever other stuff.

I kept noticing friend suggestions in the side. Turns out lots of people I hadn't friended yet had lots of mutual friends with me. So I started friending them. Then I noticed lots of friend suggestions I didn't recognize. Some of them I eventually figured out because they were attached to my email. So if you are reading this, and we have been in contact, and you are on Facebook. I am open to doing the Facebook friend thing. Just saying.

Well, I checked out more people from high school, and there she was. Well, it was her name anyway. So I clicked, and saw her friends list and there was her mom, and I knew it was her for sure then. With heart pounding in my throat I sent a message.

She responded and we started sending a flurry of messages.

I sent her the message that I needed to send more than anything in the world. I told her I was sorry for the things I did and the things I said.

She told me she had forgiven me a long time ago. That she let it go because she knew she couldn't hold onto it and be happy. It wasn't her forgiveness that I needed though. As much as I appreciate that she has forgiven me, I needed for me to forgive me even more. I needed that chance to tell her I was sorry. I needed to accept my actions, their consequences, my apology, and forgive myself.

I am in that process now. I know something in me is changing even now. In fact it feels so sudden and dramatic that it is kind of frightening and overwhelming too.

This isn't exactly a dark part of the trail. I gave some thought to the one I have been so angry at lately, and the anger was not there like I am used to. There, but not the same anyway. I shall consider sending an apology to her for my actions, without any expectations from her. First I need the emotional overload to settle and then be sure that is what I really want to do.

Pig and Bitch

2010-02-24T16:41:00.000-08:00

A man is driving up a steep, narrow mountain road. A woman is driving down the same road. As they pass each other, the woman leans out of the window and yells "PIG!"

The man immediately leans out of his window and replies, "BITCH!"

They each continue on their way, and as the man rounds the next corner, he crashes into a pig in the middle of the road and dies.

What happened to the woman is just too sad to tell here.

E-Lust #8

2010-02-23T17:15:00.000-08:00

HNT Courtesy of Blue-Eyed Vixen

Welcome to e[lust] - your source for sexual intelligence and inspirations of lust from the smartest & sexiest bloggers! Whether you’re looking for hot steamy smut, thought-provoking opinions or expert information, you’re going to find it here. Want to be included in e[lust] #9? Start with the rules, check out the schedule in the site’s sidebar and subscribe to the RSS feed for updates!

~ This Week’s Top Three Posts ~

This Isn’t Play. . . BDSM and Rape - The very basic principle that we hold so dear in BDSM play, “Nothing without consent” seems to stand in stark contrast to a very common form of play, “Rape Play”.

Half-Full - When I get my ass beaten, is it as much for the sensation as it is for the “Good girl…I knew you could take that for me.” that I want so badly at the close of the scene?

House Party Part 2 -His wife walked by at one point and he cryptically asked her to "do what she did to so-and-so earlier". His wife disappeared behind me, but I felt her hands touching me and his cock as it entered me.

~ e[lust] Editress ~

Backseat Orgasms - We kissed lightly and without focus, both a sensual act and maddening at the same time. More, I needed more. In a blur I was on my knees on the seat, straddling his leg, his mouth latched onto one nipple and his fingers hunting for the key to undoing my dress pants.

~ Featured Post (Lilly’s Pick) ~

Are You Watching Me? - A plan of devious proportions begins to form. Before this is over with, I will have forced you into a corner…forced you to act…forced you to give ME what I want.

See also: Pleasurists #64 and 65 for all your sex toy review needs.

All blogs that have a submission in this edition must re-post this digest from tip-to-toe on their blogs within 7 days. Re-posting the photo is optional and the use of the “read more…” tag is allowable after this point. Thank you, and enjoy!

Erotic Writing

A story of FL
Contemplation
Cuddling
Floor Exercises
Good day for a milking
Goodbye
G-Spot Orgasms Galore - Part 2
Initiation
Logan
Mark. Confession #423
Mouth
Nothing says I love you quite like...
Playful and Dangerous
Play your part
Plotter
Splish Splash
The Library Hotel
The Secret I Couldn't Keep
Triple X
Three A.M. Surprise

Thoughts & Advice on Sex & Relationships

Anatomy of Desire (PT. Two)
Better Cautious Than Raped
Lingerie Tales Vol 1 An Obsession Begins
My life as a gamer's slave
Perplexed
Saturday Texting
So Simple
The Elusive Female Orgasm
The G Spot Mouse or How To Make A Woman Squirt
Transtastic: On Language

Kink & Fetish

A No Limits Slave?
Are Discipline and Punishment The Same?
BDSM Advice Series: Pet Play
Bondage 101—Part 1: Bondage Basics
Breaking the Demons
Dark/DirtyBlog Crush
Factory Doll
Hand vs. toys
I'm on a book cover: 'The Punishment List' by Abel
Kink
Men as sex objects
Rough Porn
Raleigh and La Fortress
Savouring the texture of my skin with his teeth
The Way They Look At Me
The Slut Chronicles #13 ~ The Auction
Whither the spankosphere?

Sex News, Interviews, Politics & Humor

Happy Valentines Day!
Hookers, Catholic School Students and Facebook
Lane Bryant Makes Puppies and Kittens Cry
Pussy Cosmetics and Vagina Myths

Going Deep

2010-02-21T17:37:00.000-08:00

Some memories stay with you. Even if they seem faded and fuzzy in our minds, they are still there and can still invoke emotions. When I was in college, I spent an intensely sexual week with a woman four years older than I was. That was a pretty big deal for a young man of eighteen.

She and I met in a common area in the dorms. It started with conversation, then with touching, and moved to some really intense making out. Despite being in a more or less public place, our bodies were pressed together, our hands were caressing, and our tongues were intertwined in a dance of lust.

I can feel the heat radiating from her body. The desire brushing against my skin with every breath she exhales. I feel her want and desire in her fingertips through my clothes. I taste the pheromones on her skin with every brush of my tongue.

On another night, we made our way to the sort of privacy of the dorm room (please don't let the room mate return now). She didn't want to give in to having sex. Despite how much her body cried to feel me inside of her. She wanted to make herself wait. To make sure we had protection, to make sure I wouldn't hurt her. At the time I was several years away from discovering there was a dom inside of me waiting to come out. I think she was quite safe.

She was willing to show me her oral skills though. How could I possibly say no?

Now throughout my adult life, I have been told many times that my cock is above average in both length and girth. I do not necessarily trust these statements. I have seen so many scenes in movies and heard so many stories that I think women are likely to appease a man's ego during the moment (maybe tell the truth later). There was a point where measurements were taken, and compared to some research on the Internet, those measurements would fit at the high end of the average on some charts and above average on others. So maybe there is some truth to the statements that I have above average size. In the end, what really matters to me is that I can use this tool to cause a woman to have really intense orgasms and feel those orgasms rippling up and down the entire length.

I digress. I was about to talk about her demonstration of oral skills. Even in the privacy of the dorm room we spent a lot of time just kissing and touching. All of that kissing and touching was driving us to incredible levels of arousal and desire. I am not sure how we initiated going to the next level.

I just remember being out of my clothes laying on my back. She kissed her way down my body, sliding her body down to get between my legs. She touched and kissed me with confidence that she knew what she was doing and knew I would enjoy what she was going to do to me. She kissed her way around me, touching my rigid cock with her fingers and lips gently and teasingly at the same time. Letting the anticipation build.

At times I watched her, enjoying the sight of this woman's fingers, lips, and tongue on my cock. At times I laid my head back with my eyes closed in ecstasy.

She took me into her mouth to show me what she could really do. It started slow. Just the head, then back up, then a little more, and back up. And she kept doing this. Kept taking in more and more. I felt that beautiful feeling of more and more of my cock engulfed by her warm mouth. Until I was sure she was taking in more than any woman had done before.

I looked to see what she was doing. I watched her lips wrapped around my cock, sliding down the length of it. Taking in more than I had seen a woman do to me before, and she kept going. She kept taking more and more of me into her mouth. I could hear her breathing and could tell she was focusing on how she was breathing is she took my cock to her throat. I could feel the difference, I could feel my cock in her throat as she literally swallowed to accept my cock so deep into her mouth.

I watched as she pushed her head and stretched her lips to take my cock into her mouth all the way to the base. I couldn't believe it. I knew my cock was in her throat. The feeling was absolutely incredible. It was so hot and it felt like my entire body was consumed with pleasure.

With her skills, it didn't take her long to make me cum. She pleasured me until my entire body was rigid with pre-release tension. I was panting with lust, desire, and the need to release all of the tension built up within my body. When I came, my entire body convulsed with my orgasm. I felt the shudders from head to toe, and felt my hips pushing my cock into her mouth. Panting changed to gasping and vain attempts to suck in enough air to fill my lungs. When I came, she took me deep again, back to her throat and she swallowed every drop without it getting in her mouth.

I don't know what her trick was. I have no idea how she was able to take my cock all the way into her throat. I don't know how she was able to push her lips all the way to the very base of my cock. Back then I didn't know my size was above average. I just knew that she had done something that no one else had done to me, and I suspected no one else would do for a long time (I am still waiting).

Sex And Sadness

2010-02-19T16:48:00.001-08:00

Is there a relationship? Maybe sadness is not the right word. I am not certain. The emotion is difficult for me to define at the moment, and I choose not to seek the right word before I write and post.

Following the event nearly a year ago I experienced an extraordinary lust. I felt wrong because of it, and I felt my entire body vibrating with it. I didn't want love in any way. I wanted sex. I wanted a physical release. I didn't know it at the time, but my body was taking over to help my emotions release also. That lust drew in one who came to me and despite a logical mind telling me no, we had what was incredibly intense sex for me. I don't think I was as good for her as she was for me (but I made up for it later).

Later I had another crash. My ego lay in pieces inside of me. She came back to me again. In truth she was already there. Something in me let go. Inhibitions let go. Logical mind had nothing to tell me. I found my dom. I gave her every bit as good as I got.

I pushed further. I wanted more. I needed more. I found more. More women, more variety, more sex. I gave and I gave, and I took. It wasn't about seeing how much I could please them, I wanted mine too, and I took it with each one.

The ego came back together. Healing was happening, just not exactly in the way I would have wished for. My desire for more came back to earth. I stopped wanting more women. I stopped wanting strangers in my bed. I was content with those who stayed with me.

Lately I have been traveling through some darkness in me. I have been traveling a dark trail indeed. Little steps up. Little steps back. Walking a thin dark line in a dark room, ready to slip off at any moment.

Lust is back. In a new way though. I want to push the limits of pain. Not mine. Another's. I want her to get on her hands and knees for me. I want to get out my paddle and my small whip and I want to lay into her ass with both. I want to hear them crack with each hit. I want to hear her gasp with pain with each hit until she can't take any more.

When I am done with her ass, I want her to crawl to my feet, kiss them, and beg for permission to please me. I will simply stand there silently. Watching her. Watching her kiss my feet and beg. Watching her bare back and her bright red ass.

I don't know exactly what I will do to her next. I may grab her hair and pull her up. I can see me keeping her on her knees and holding her up by her hair while I guide my cock into her waiting mouth. Filling it completely and stopping her from begging me anymore.

I can see me getting behind her. Sliding my cock into her pussy. Grabbing her hips and thrusting into raw ass with all the power I can muster in each thrust. With every intention of making her ass sting and hurt every time my cock buries itself inside her cunt. My body slapping her tender skin every time my balls slam into her clit.

Whatever it is. It will be my choice and it will be me using her in any way that I want. Right now I couldn't care less if she cums or not. I don't care how much pain she feels as long as she is not hurt. Before I am done, her tits will be bruised, her neck will bear red marks from my teeth and fingers, and she will know that I have used her.

I won't. Not tonight. Not tomorrow. I do not have one I can safely do this to. Maybe sometime that will change. For now, this lust will go without satisfaction.

Redemption

2010-02-17T18:02:00.000-08:00

I want to be a good person. I mean in a very real way. I want to be happy. I want to treat people with respect and kindness. I want people to know that I am not one to fear. I want to spread happiness. I want the world to be a better place for everyone and their beliefs.

Like the picture though, I am chained. The pain and anger are my chains. I am human. I can be far too needy and selfish. I am frail, I can give into anger far to easily.

The blog is called dark trails for a reason. It wasn't because I wanted to write a bunch of sex stories. It was because I knew I had to face this darkness inside of me. I have to face the pain and anguish. I have to face the grief and loneliness. I have to face the anger and bitterness. I have to face the fears and the regrets.

I have to face the man who had thoughts of hurting others. I have to face the man who would carelessly do dangerous things to himself. I have to face the man who lives inside of me, and faces me whether I would choose to face him or not.

This trail has a long ways to go yet. There will be more darkness. There will be more sadness, more anger, more fear, and more that I have no desire to actually feel.

I wrote out the apologies for what I did wrong. I sent them to another person instead of the person who should have read them. Maybe it was better that way. I don't know. My ego simply cannot handle being ignored again, especially when I am offering a sincere, heartfelt apology. I won't know if I would have been ignored or not. Things progressed to the point where I am convinced that would be the outcome though.

I felt a step inside of me. Moving away from the pain and anger associated with the person I wanted to send those apologies to. There is more to the story, and things I can't find the words to relate here. It is too much feeling and emotion, and I can't find the words to convey the what they are. I am still digging deeper though. I have to go deeper in me to find the pain that has been hidden and not given a proper chance to heal.

This blog will not become an emotional journey only. I enjoy sex way too much to let that happen. I have so many more things that have happened in my life that I can write about. I have fantasies I could describe. Sex will be back in this blog. I can't say when. I can only say that it will come back. I know this because through these last few posts you have read, I have still enjoyed sexual activities. Some things about me will not change, and I am a very sexual person.

Pain behind Pain

2010-02-15T14:54:00.000-08:00

Pain hidden behind pain.

Anger hidden behind anger.

I took a break from what is my normal everyday life this weekend. I used that break to do a little thinking and a little searching inside of me for what is going on.

The one I mentioned that I am so angry with is not the one I am most truly angry with. She is one I said caused me a lot of pain. But she is not the true source of my pain. I wish I had the option to reveal and explain everything here, but privacy dictates that I keep much of this off the blog.

Less than one year ago I went through a tremendously painful event. This was like being truly wounded deep into my soul. In a short amount of time I gained knowledge that not only increased the pain, but ignited an intense anger. Anger that is truthfully justified, but not something I should allow to consume me.

Like an athlete with an injured leg who gets up too soon and tries to run. I did not allow myself enough time to heal. While in pain I made an incredibly stupid mistake. That is where the one comes in whom I have directed my pain and anger, even in this blog. Yes, she did make mistakes, and yes, she did in fact do something specific to hurt me emotionally. The amount of pain I felt was far too great in relation to her actions. The amount of anger I felt and directed at her was far to great in relation to what she did.

She is not absolved for what she did. I do not see in her a person I would desire to be friends with. I have been accused of being intolerant because of my religious and political views. In truth, I am a very tolerant person. Dishonesty is not something I am tolerant of though. Being a party to intentionally and knowingly hurting someone without any apologies or remorse is not something I am tolerant of. Thus, I feel she should live her life and never again have contact with me.

She should never know that I am truly talented sexually. She should never know that I truly know how to care for a woman when I give her my heart. Those are things she has given up. In addition, she has given up that I care about my friends and will do as much for them as I possibly can. Whether it is to be there emotionally, or to be there to bail them out of a tough situation.

The anger and pain are less right now. But I acknowledge they are there. I acknowledge that like a broken leg in a cast, I need to be careful with them until it truly is time for the cast to be removed. In the meantime, I need to find a good pen or ruler I can slide into that emotional cast and scratch.

Fallen Petal

2010-02-11T17:42:00.001-08:00

I'll be honest and say right off that I am feeling emotionally fucked up. A feeling I have grown very tired of. I would so love to drink those emotions into oblivion followed by trying to drag my ass out of bed and make it to work on time in the morning. I do not get that luxury, thus I have turned to my writing place to just vent a bit.

So many years ago, the one I was with did something that caused me to lose a great deal of respect for her. What we had built together was falling apart anyway. Neither of us knew what to do to change that things were falling apart. That is not why I lost respect for her. I lost respect because she was ready and willing to be a party to royally screwing up an entire family. I guess I draw the line where children are concerned.

Times and circumstances have changed. Things did fall apart completely and this one and I have been separate legally and geographically for many years now. The circumstances of her and one other person have also changed. There is no longer any concern about screwing up a family involved. So sometime later they will make it official for themselves.

I should be happy for them. But right now I am not. Maybe that will come later. Right now I just want to go back to the those who have hurt me and make them listen to the hurt they caused. I don't mean just the one above. I mean one I mentioned in Relationships and Gift of Heart. In anger I would force her to acknowledge her mistakes and the pain she caused. I call that some bad ju ju there. I wouldn't really do something like that though. It seems I am not capable of releasing that kind of anger on any person.

There is another I have not mentioned who left some very deep and long lasting wounds. There will never be a chance to ask her why she did what she did. I'll never know, nor ever understand why she felt justified in denying me an honest choice with my life. It is possible that if I had a chance to speak to her, my anger could become uncontained. It would means lots of yelling and lots of very hurtful words. It doesn't matter though, because in this case, it simply is not possible, and never will be while I live. I haven't written any posts about this one. That may or may not come to pass. We'll see what I decide in different emotional states.

Correction: I did write one post about this one mentioned above. You can find it here at Absence.

There are a few others, but things have moved on since then. It really doesn't matter anymore. The scars are there inside me, but the pain does not linger. Of course there is also me. There are my mistakes and the stupid things I have done. The idiocy involved when I hurt others, and and absolute stupidity that led me to make choices in which I hurt myself.

So if you made it this far. Just remember. I am human. I made my mistakes, I am hurt by the mistakes of others. Right now I am in pain and I have been in emotional pain for far longer than any rational person would desire. I always knew it would take a long time to heal, and I should not have compounded that by being stupid and making it worse. This will take more time. There is no doubt about it.

A story of FL

2010-02-09T17:54:00.001-08:00

FL and I almost always had sex in a car. It was a rare and nice treat for us when we got to enjoy sex in an actual bed. Sometimes we would even be happy to enjoy sex on a floor. Who am I kidding. FL and I always enjoyed sex with each other, and it really didn't matter where.

I have been thinking about her more than usual for the past year. I don't know why that is. I have not seen her or spoken to her and so many years. I have no idea where she is or how her life turned out. Yet I am curious about those things and it won't leave my mind. So if anyone has any thoughts on how to find a woman who probably married, changed her name, moved a time or two, and who knows what else. I am open to suggestion (by the way, I tried social sites, and her name is much too popular).

On another thought. It has been much too long since the last time I wrote a decent sex post. This is going to be one of those posts. If FL stays on my mind. Perhaps I will write about some of the other sexual adventures I had with her. Perhaps one or more of my readers will figure out what FL really means, and it still will not lead back to her identity.

The car was an older model steel frame big engine gas guzzling and fun car. The front seat was the old bench style seat going straight across from one door to the other. Sure, I had issues with the car back then, but looking back, I wish I had that car now. Even if it would just be a fixing up hobby.

FL and I went out on many a date in that car. We also explored where we could park privately. As if there really is such a thing in a car anywhere in a city. There was this one park we liked to frequent though. Overlooking a lake and a grassy area. We were not the only teenagers who like to visit that park.

I would move over closer to her so as not to be under the steering wheel. She would move over closer to me just to be closer. Our lips met with young, inexperienced, but very passionate kisses. Our tongues would play together, caressing and teasing. We pressed our bodies as close together as the confines of the car would allow. With our hands we would hold each other close. In between kisses we would whisper words of love and passion to each other.

My heart would beat faster and my cock would become so hard that it literally felt like an iron rod in my blue jeans. I hoped I was having the same effect on FL. Even though this was not the first time, each time I was nervous and hoped she would want me as much as I wanted her.

I could feel increasing passion in her kissing, even though I didn't really know that at the time. What I knew was that the way she was kissing me was getting me more and more excited and I responded by kissing her with more and more passion and excitement. My hands and her hands began to do more than just hold, we began to caress each other through our clothes.

Soon our hands would move closer and closer to the more sensitive parts. The front of our bodies and our legs. Until finally one of us breaks the ice and lets the fingertips slip under the edge of the shirt. The feel of her soft skin against my finger tips is enough to cause me to exhale against her cheek. I could simply revel in the feel of her skin. It is enough to increase my boldness. I push her shirt up enough to let my entire hand touch her skin. My hand caresses her lower back, just above the waistline of her jeans, but not ready to dare to move higher yet.

Now it is her turn to take in a breath of air with a slight gasp. Now that reaction I recognize. She is growing excited. Her hands stop moving for a moment so that she can focus on enjoying the feel of my hand on her bare skin. It is only a moment though, and she attacks me with her lips against mine. Pushing her breasts against me, forcing her body as close to me as she can.

When she moves back a little, I boldly let my hand slide up inside her shirt and to the front where I can feel her tit in my hand. Her bra is still on of course, but I have reached the next base and I know I will have sex with her unless something happens to stop us. She moves her hands down the front of my body, straight to my cock which is straining to be released from my jeans. She doesn't look. Her lips stay on my mine while she unfastens the button and pushes the zipper down.

Her fingers slip into the waistband of my underwear and wrap gently around my cock. She pauses there. Just to enjoy the feeling of my cock in her hand. I have no idea what thoughts are going through her mind. In my mind though, I am fighting to control myself lest I cum right then. Her fingers feel so soft and gentle on my cock that it takes a lot of effort for me to control myself. Somehow I manage.

I regain control and move my hands down to her pants. In moments her pants are unbuttoned and unzipped. My hand slips easily into the wet folds of her pussy. Brushing against her clit, teasing the opening with the promise of more to come. I can feel her body shudder gently just before she moves again.

All pretenses are removed. She pushes her pants and panties off of one leg. I slide my pants and underwear down to my ankles. I slide over fully onto the passenger side of the seat and she straddles me.

The skin of her thighs is so soft and so warm brushing against mine as she positions herself over my cock. I can still feel that warmth and softness in my fantasies.

She slowly lowers herself onto my cock. Her expression gives into passion, and she gasps as she feels my cock penetrating the sweet folds of her pussy. This is new. I have not seen this expression on her face or heard her gasp and moan like this as my cock entered her pussy. I know now that she had an orgasm just from the feel of my cock entering her.

I am too young, and too inexperienced to last long. I don't have that control yet. But it doesn't matter. With only a few thrusts I have lost all control. Maybe I never had that control to begin with. I don't know, and I don't care. All I know is that my entire body is going to have an orgasm inside of her pussy. I am panting, moaning, and nearly crying out as it hits me, and my cum is filling the condom inside of her. She grabs me and holds me as tightly as I hold her.

When it is over. She puts her forehead against mine and we smile with each other. Young and in love, and thoroughly satisfied and happy with life. We look through the steamy windows to see if anyone may have been watching. Seeing no one, we straighten up, check the time and make sure we have made ourselves ready for her to return home to her parents.