Wednesday, October 2, 2013
Just FYI
I haven't been updating regularly lately, mostly because D started to come home earlier... and this whole child rearing business is taking a toll on me. Nevertheless, D is back on her usual late night job extravaganza again after the vacation and traveling incessantly, and hopefully in the next couple of months I'll have more time to share my little dillies here.
Beach vacation
D and I decided to take a vacation at the beach. We dropped the kids at our in-laws--they are getting older now and don't really need their doting parents around at all times. Lately D has been more forthcoming about trying to satisfy me, which I suppose is a good sign.
We rented a bungalow near the beach, and in the morning I woke up before the crack of dawn, and could hear the noisy ocean waves patting the sandy beach rhythmically, as if the water was gently fucking the rocks, the squeaking gulls, murmuring bubbles lubricating their passionless coitus. I got up, naked, walked quietly out, and D's soft, steady breathing was in the background. I languished in the golden sunrise, stretching my aging body in a state of dreary pontification, an innocent, smothering awareness of the immediacy of death that would come, like it or not.
That night D tried to have sex with me, and I had trouble performing again. It occurred to me that perhaps I could use my newly acquired nipple sensitivity to get myself hard. And it worked. I squeezed my nipples hard and my cock became thoroughly engorged as I entered her. Still a bit weary, I tried my best to stay in control. She jumped on top of me, with her eyes piercing directly into mine, and I was frightened. Whenever she's on top I often have the fear that I would lose it, and she would then "not feel anything", and that would be the end of our night. That night wasn't different. My heart started pounding as I worried that my fresh, fragile throb would disengage in a panic frenzy. I started rubbing my nipples again--I told my wife that I liked her to do that. For a moment she looked at me strangely, and slapped my hands..."What's wrong?"
"I don't like you doing it."
A thousand fleeting thoughts went through my head as she thrusted her luxuriant tush against my puny, self-aggrandizing member. Did she think this whole nipple thing was gay? Did she think that I needed to do some weird thing to get aroused--and she couldn't satisfy me in some way? Did she hate rubbing my nipples during sex because I couldn't sufficiently pleasure her? Was I making it too much of everything?
I started to feel my penis becoming more and more anxious as my thoughts quivered. Sometimes I felt like my penis had a mind of its own, and it danced this rambunctious dance without my control, laughing evilly as I tried to make it behave. I noticed that D was getting close, and my mind went blank as the seminal fluid inevitably pushed against my urethra...I was losing my erection, but my aching semen haplessly erupted nevertheless, without my control and pulsating as I groaned again, as pathetically as the thousand times before. Luckily this time D came around the same time as well, writhing and screaming in her usual state of ecstasy. I'm not sure how long this is going to last, but it's been another year. Another frightful, hissing, automaton year.
We rented a bungalow near the beach, and in the morning I woke up before the crack of dawn, and could hear the noisy ocean waves patting the sandy beach rhythmically, as if the water was gently fucking the rocks, the squeaking gulls, murmuring bubbles lubricating their passionless coitus. I got up, naked, walked quietly out, and D's soft, steady breathing was in the background. I languished in the golden sunrise, stretching my aging body in a state of dreary pontification, an innocent, smothering awareness of the immediacy of death that would come, like it or not.
That night D tried to have sex with me, and I had trouble performing again. It occurred to me that perhaps I could use my newly acquired nipple sensitivity to get myself hard. And it worked. I squeezed my nipples hard and my cock became thoroughly engorged as I entered her. Still a bit weary, I tried my best to stay in control. She jumped on top of me, with her eyes piercing directly into mine, and I was frightened. Whenever she's on top I often have the fear that I would lose it, and she would then "not feel anything", and that would be the end of our night. That night wasn't different. My heart started pounding as I worried that my fresh, fragile throb would disengage in a panic frenzy. I started rubbing my nipples again--I told my wife that I liked her to do that. For a moment she looked at me strangely, and slapped my hands..."What's wrong?"
"I don't like you doing it."
A thousand fleeting thoughts went through my head as she thrusted her luxuriant tush against my puny, self-aggrandizing member. Did she think this whole nipple thing was gay? Did she think that I needed to do some weird thing to get aroused--and she couldn't satisfy me in some way? Did she hate rubbing my nipples during sex because I couldn't sufficiently pleasure her? Was I making it too much of everything?
I started to feel my penis becoming more and more anxious as my thoughts quivered. Sometimes I felt like my penis had a mind of its own, and it danced this rambunctious dance without my control, laughing evilly as I tried to make it behave. I noticed that D was getting close, and my mind went blank as the seminal fluid inevitably pushed against my urethra...I was losing my erection, but my aching semen haplessly erupted nevertheless, without my control and pulsating as I groaned again, as pathetically as the thousand times before. Luckily this time D came around the same time as well, writhing and screaming in her usual state of ecstasy. I'm not sure how long this is going to last, but it's been another year. Another frightful, hissing, automaton year.
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