Monthly Archives: November 2018

Thursday

15 Thursday Nov 2018

Posted by in Love and stuff, Tattoo

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I can hear the rain outside and I see the street lights reflected on the wet pavement. Will it rain all day? I don’t know. It is a cold rain, the bane of the South, never cold enough to snow, but cold enough to be miserable.

The coffee is ready, I just ate a navel orange. It was a small orange, as navels go, from California. There was a nice sweet and clean taste. Time now to pour a cup of coffee.

I start another day alone. My wife will sleep another 3 or 4 hours. Her lunch is packed. She will go to work for eight hours.

Another day. Alone. So it is off to AA and the Y in the alphabet of places that fill my life.

I admire of all you who physically love your lovers. I can remember the soft feel of my beloved’s skin, her body ready to yield. And yet she was not vocal about her passion, lest the neighbors hear. As if that mattered.

More Food. No Sex

13 Tuesday Nov 2018

Posted by in Health Issues

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I had my Weight Watchers weigh in today. I lost 5.4 lbs this week. 8.8 lbs in the past two weeks. Diabetes has put the Fear of God in me. Everything I blew off or paid lip service to around food has hit home as The Truth, the emes. (Nothing gets the point across better than Yiddish). So I’m eating as righteously as I can. Two words: fruits, vegetables,

I’m feeling way better. I do not want to be one of those anti-sugar, meshuganu types, but then again, there are worse types of people to be.

Food. And Sex.

13 Tuesday Nov 2018

Posted by in food, Sexuality

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It is Seven AM. I am watching a vacation video that Fresco Channel posted on YouTube about a trip to Key West, taken in the Summer of 2018.

It is innocuous enough and his videography holds my attention. There are scenes in the video that underscore just how obsessed we are with food. The featured event is called Lobster Fest and the video opens with food vendors preparing lobsters. He records trips to shops with great big cookies on display. Nothing unusual,right? But juxtaposed beside the food are the women rockin’ their admittedly hot bods, eating. No, nobody’s having sex, but nobody is into modesty either.

In my early teens, in my fantasy forming years, a classic film premiered, Tom Jones. It was all about class differences and the decadent landed gentry, just the sort of thing one would expect from the Labour-oriented filmmakers of the time. John Osborne, author of the play Look Back In Anger, wrote the screenplay, adapting the Henry Fielding novel of the eighteenth century.

One memorable scene features the title character Tom Jones (played by the incomparable Albert Finney) and a rather slatternly woman, played by Joyce Redman, seducing each other by eating. If food is your “thing”, this is pretty hot stuff., especially the “oyster course”.

When an amateur videographer, does a vacation video featuring food and attractive women, I think it’s easy to infer how we continue to link the two themes, food and sex, together. Of course, it takes a little effort to infer that the hot rockin’ bods and the monster cookies with whipped cream on top are in fundamental conflict, unless these women are Arctic explorers, marathon runners, or endurance swimmers, of which I am quite skeptical.

Quid Pro Quo #2

13 Tuesday Nov 2018

Posted by in Erotic Writing, Uncategorized

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NSFW MATURE CONTENT

How do I find a lover for my wife? Craig’s List? Or some Find A Fuck Buddy website? Not. Her. Style. I was vexed and eager and curious. She had never been one to initiate anything sexual. She enjoyed the play, to be sure. But she would never say things she wanted and was curious about. Yet when I pushed an unexplored area, like oral sex, sex outside on a hot night, or when I ate out her asshole for the first time, she was “fired up and ready to go” the next time the opportunity rose.

And now this unusual request. I did a quick run down of every male I knew. They were either old or fat or bald or creepy lechers or just flat out boring. My wife, we’ll call her Jean, can take only so much sports chatter, stock tip rumors, or worst of all, politics.

But she did like men with no tolerance for bull crap; no gushing fountain of opinions ever inspired her. If a man liked to hunt or fish, she preferred to receive the venison roast, or the swordfish steaks without the story behind it. And she always exchanged the game with a carrot cake that would make a hippie proud.

Let’s go for real.  I can picture an imaginary ad now:

Real guy wanted to have sex with my wife and make me a cuckold.  No experience necessary.

My mind played with this conundrum as I left the neighborhood one morning.  The parents were there with their children, waiting for the school bus.  Usually more than one parent was there, kind of a unspoken rule, (We don’t let the children wait alone, not in this day and age.) Today I noticed Greg, the single parent, with two daughters, eight and six. Beside him, off leash, was their dog, a Bouvier des Flandres. The children, the Dad, the dog, a perfect grouping.  I wonder where the mother was. Who knows? This is the Twenty-First Century, after all.  The bus arrives. On come the red lights, the protective arm swings out. The children climb aboard.

As Greg heads back, I lower the window and remark,

“You never miss a day, do you?”

“They’re only little once and before too long, they won’t want me with 10 feet of them.”

“True. Well have a good day”

Off I went.  Maybe SuperDad is the right candidate.”

Sunday

12 Monday Nov 2018

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A dirty mind never sleeps. It tries. But stuff trickles in like rain through old shingles. I had a good day, really good day. Part of feeling good is feeling alive, aware of the passion in my heart. And the splendour of having such feelings,

Quid Pro Quo

12 Monday Nov 2018

Posted by in Erotic Writing, Sexuality

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NSFW. Mature story

I hadn’t planned on this. I had been good all my life, paid my bills, my taxes, joined the Army, married a woman I loved, fathered children, raised them right, and never cheated.

Until one day my wife said, “I’m bored. Find a man to fuck me. And I will find a woman to “do” you.”

I tried to get my jaw off the floor and engage in some kind of dialogue around this request, or demand, however you choose to look at it.

“Are you serious?!”

“Yes.”

“Why”

” I was a virgin when we were married. I have no complaints about you as a lover, husband, provider. But I just wonder what have I missed. Crazy, huh?”

“Well yeah.”

“Here are the rules. You will find a man you think I might be attracted to. You will inform him of my offer. He will then be examined by a physician of my choosing to determine if he is disease-free and healthy. I don’t what him dying while he’s doing me.”

“He will then go to see my friend Celeste, the artist, She will make a mask that he will wear whenever we have sex. She will also make a plaster mold of his cock. If he pleases me she will cast a replica of his cock in silicon rubber.”

“I will also wear a mask. All of our liaisons will take place a nice Air BnB of my choosing. I have arranged with the owners our need for strict anonymity and privacy.”

“Please begin your search as soon as possible. You are tasked with using your skills to find a lover, not a stud. If you are vexed or puzzled, good. For your job is to enter my head and think like me, desire like me.”

Is it Safe To Go Back In The Water?

08 Thursday Nov 2018

Posted by in Politics, Tolerance

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Thank Heaven this election is over.   The full out assault on the intellect and the raw emotional pandering was more than I could handle. Party affiliation is irrelevant. This is is how the politics game is played these days.  Absent any real religious or spiritual connections that characterize our culture today, politics serves to give a veneer of cosmic right and wrong to our lives.  My beliefs are those of ultimate good. the politicians I like are the warriors of virtue. The other guys, the opposition,  in our polarized little universe, are the bad guys. They can burn in Hell, if we believed there was a Hell.

I gave up on The News years ago. It is all manipulation and propaganda.  So how do we find out what is factual, what isn’t?  I don’t know.  That’s the vexing part.  Consider that we have Congress Members who don’t even read the bills they vote on, and it doesn’t matter whether the Congress Member/Slacker is one we support or not. That is dysfunctional.

I was watching the line at the polls the other day. Our congressional race was close.  There was nothing that indicated who the voter was going to vote for just by looking at them superficially. And if we opened up their body cavities , we could not identify their political affiliation, and surgically excise it.

Maybe a little more tolerance is in order.  And the more we dislike a given politician, the more we should accept the people we know who support that politician.  And I specifically mean the people we know that like whom we consider the “bad guys”.  We all get manipulated into hating and the more virtuous you think you are, the more susceptible you are to manipulation. Think about that.

Walking Back From The Abyss

06 Tuesday Nov 2018

Posted by in Exercise/ Fitness, Health Issues, Uncategorized

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I keep a record of my weight and exercise in a nice pocket calendar that the Disabled American Veterans sent me. One of the business gurus I used to follow when I was in business wrote, “That which is recorded gets done.” I can’t remember his name. Jim Something.

I stopped doing. I stopped recording. My diary is chock full of empty spaces. My weight crept up. I developed Adult Onset Diabetes. Now, all of a sudden, I am as serious as, well, Adult Onset Diabetes, about my diet, exercise, and health, in general. It doesn’t take much to tip the balance toward the negative. The good news is that one can reset the balance by little incremental, regular efforts to return to H-E-A-L-T-H-Y and stay there.

It’s back to Weight Watchers for me. Tomorrow is my one week weigh-in. When I check my weight at the Y, I’ve lost weight since last Tuesday. My swimming is back to swimming. My shoulder feels better. Truth be told, I think the pain was from inactivity.

I didn’t plan on being a Healthy Person or an Unhealthy Person, for that matter. Stuff just sort of happened. No purpose or intention yields an unsatisfactory result. I’ve had a dysfunctional attitude around food since I was a child. That is a long story. But the synopsis of the dysfunction is that I returned to eating whenever and whatever I wanted because it changed the way I felt about my self. Food was, and is, my gateway drug.

Back in my thirties, I participated in the transformational programs developed by Werner Erhard, The est Training, (later transformed into The Forum), and The Six Day Course, to name two. I found Werner’s work valuable, useful, and memorable. One of the things Werner emphasized is that people are OK, exactly the way they are. Translated for my life, at age 67, being OK exactly the way I am means I don’t have to eat my way into feeling different. Or drink my way. Doing healthy things and living a healthy life means doing things we humans naturally gravitate towards doing. Notice how we have to tell small children to sit still. Movement is their default state.

Getting healthy again is an un-learning. We learn that it’s OK to let go of the stuff around our health that doesn’t work.

So here I go again. Thanks Werner.