Category Archives: Sexuality

Up, Again. Too Early?

22 Saturday Jul 2017

Posted by in Foreign Films, Sexuality, sleep

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This morning I woke around 3:45, and decide I shall be up for awhile. I turn on YouTube and resume watching Phillippe Noiret in Coup De Torchon. I remember seeing this film when it was released. Over time, I became a huge Phillipe Noiret fan. Cinema Paradiso is my favorite Noiret film.  So yeah, I’m guilty of being a sentimental slob.The YouTube version of Coup De Torchon is chopped up and hard to follow. I lose interest, but can’t get back to bed. 

 Eventually I end up watching an infomercial for the Abdoer360, a product that promises incredible results!  This device features a seat that rotates on a chair platform and promises to give you a great abdominal workout.  Given that Infomercial World is a magic place where amazing things happen, I suppose that’s possible. 

Finally I go back to bed.  When I wake up, I have the “I didn’t sleep enough” feeling. Mrs CorC? is heading to work. I have a day where a swim isn’t mandatory and the chores can wait. Bedtime can be whenever I want it. 

I made decaf. And my eyeballs want to know what my eyelids are doing open.  A fantasy creeps into my head about what kind of lover I would be today, after my sexuality has been bottled up for 10+ years. A follow-up fantasy follows of a woman I’ve never met, but who has an aura of passion about her. Need, longing, lust escape the little prison we call today.

Quest for 40 Miles And Other Stuff.

21 Friday Jul 2017

Posted by in cooking, Exercise/ Fitness, Literature, Sexuality, Uncategorized

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I am swimming an awful lot this month, averaging six days out of seven.  At one point, I saw that I could swim a total of forty miles this month.  Then, when my sister and her husband went on vacation to Florida, I saw that this goal was readily within reach. You see DH, my brother-in-law, usually takes D my stepmom to the Y on days when I don’t. So with going to the Y daily darn near mandatory, there was no reason for me to wheedle out of a swim.  As of yesterday, I have swum 26.4 miles (42.5km). This leaves a little over thirteen miles left with ten days to finish. At 2500 meters per day, this is readily do-able.  The good news is my repaired parts, especially my rotator cuff, are holding up.

Meanwhile, back in the kitchen,  I have been trying new stuff.  I had some leftover slow-cooked cilantro lime chicken I made pulled chicken tacos with. I did cheat and use a packet of Old El Paso Chicken Taco Seasoning.  I found Ortega Blue Corn Taco Shells.  Even 60+ year-old Adults like Taco Night.  I also made a sweet & sour red cabbage/apple side dish, spiced with cinnamon, clove and coriander that was also yummy. Real easy to make: slice or chop the red cabbage.  Core a Granny Smith apple and cut in rings.  Put in a non-stick skillet over medium heat, turning frequently. Add the spices. I don’t measure. I use the “That tastes good.” standard. When good and cooked down, I add a tablespoon of turbinado sugar (brown sugar would also work) and a tablespoon of vinegar.  Maybe more, if that sweet/sour experience is your “thing”.  Turn down the heat to warm or thereabouts. Remember to eat it.

At three A.M, when I couldn’t sleep, I woke up and read a story in a Lesbian BDSM anthology, I “inherited” from my deceased lesbian cousin’s cache of books. The Second Coming  is a collection of stories essays and photographs compiled by Pat (now Patrick) Califia and Robin Sweeney. (Alyson Books, 1996). The story “Possession”  by Sorel Husbands is a pretty powerful gang rape fantasy, that works because of how it deals with emotions and psychology.  Not for the squemish, but the author emphasizes that it is fantasy.   My erotic sensibilities and experiences are, more or less, on hiatus.  So I read a lot of stuff, somewhat dispassionately.

The balance of today will consist of the Y and a swim, AA, finding something for lunch, and dreaming up something to fix for dinner. Salmon appears to be winning. I’ll find some asparagus too.

Life is good.

Hug your children.

Love your lovers .

Make sure your pets are well hydrated.

Keep cool.

 

 Baby Steps That Make For Success

14 Friday Jul 2017

Posted by in Exercise/ Fitness, Family, Sexuality, Suburbia

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I bought a bicycling helmet today at REI. What a great store! I definitely will get the bike rack there.  My brother’s old Chicago-made Schwinn 10-speed is ready. So cycling is in my future.

Today was another hot day, but I took care of myself, exercised, ate right, and even took a nap! It would be nicer if I weren’t hot, but this day was filled with the little accomplishments that make for satisfying days.

Tomorrow I pick up the bike, hang around the house for the HVAC service call, and go to the Y with D, my stepmother and workout buddy. It won’t be in that order. But close.

Sweaty Summer Nights

13 Thursday Jul 2017

Posted by in alcoholism, Sexuality

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Tonight I am on vacation from the uninterrupted state of comfort that air conditioning affords. The thermostat is acting up. Oh well. 

Sweaty summer nights always bring back the memories of when I couldn’t afford AC. but my libido and the libido of my lover functioned independently of any thermostat. To be naked, and horny, and available, and horny and sweaty and horny is one delightful place to be. 

We were more alive .  I remember the taste of her pussy, tinged I think with the tobacco that would one day kill her. And to watch her cum as our bellies were joined by a thin adhesive of sweat.  What could possibly end this party?

Unmet expectations.

Resentments.

Alcohol.

And end it did. 

Fully Alive

07 Friday Jul 2017

Posted by in Exercise/ Fitness, food, Sexuality, sleep

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We have all these ideas about what that term “fully alive”means. Some associate the term with the adrenalin rush of sky diving or bungee jumping. Not being female, I can’t imagine what the experience of childbirth is like. But I suspect there is a heightened sense of what it means to be alive after the experience is over. Or maybe not.

What got me thinking about this was today. I took a car that was overheating into the shop, wondering if it would make it there, especially after it stalled out at a busy intersection. There, at the shop, serendipitously was an AA buddy who drove me home, despite that it took him out of his way. 

I had one of those monster cookies at the Starbucks inside Barnes & Noble. Triple. Chocolate. Chunk. It was good, but I would rather have had a mango.  Our preferences change.

And I thought about sex. Sex. The sweaty passion. And the noises. And the sacrifice of dignity as we come. And your lover knows your secrets. How you like to be touched. How you trust that lover, for at least that moment, and maybe, if you’re lucky, forever.

 I swim and the cold water feels good. My muscles stretch, reach,  and move me through the water. When I’m done the shower feels great and the soap smells good and I feel clean. 

The night comes. I feel tired, and hurt a little. As sleep settles in,  I’m euphoric. I want more. Of this day. Of the subtleties that enrich each moment of this blessing called life.

Reminders

15 Monday May 2017

Posted by in Love and stuff, Sexuality

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We all need reminders that life on this Earth is worth living.  For example, at Mass, I’ll frequently get a better idea of what Love is by watching the children with their parents than by listening to the homily.  Any priest worth his salt would probably agree.

The best reminders are usually commonplace,  A beautiful sunset, singing birds, a well-played baseball game, dessert.  In the Reminders Class is sex.   It is how I connect and relate.  If or when that physical relationship with our Lovers diminishes or disappears,  the loss is agonizing.  I caressed Mrs CorC?’s thigh the other night as we lay together in bed.   She rebuffed the gesture, but emphatically stated “I love you!”  I have been living with the sting since that moment.   Truth be told, she doesn’t “do” love “that way”, through expressions of physical affection.  In the wake of each rejection, a quest for validation, joy, and fun begins.  I’m a master at sublimation; a long swim, a good meal, a beautiful novel.   A Rosary, quietly prayed, opens another channel for Love to come in.   So deep night finds me alone with the beads.

I read of husbands and wives who keep the flame of sexual love alive. You give hope to me.

Working Title: Catching Up

11 Thursday May 2017

Posted by in Relationships, Sexuality

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So it’s been a while since I put my actual thoughts, feelings and activities into the blog. I’ve thought about a lot of things I would like to say, from a bucket list of my deeper desires, to thoughts about our narcissistic culture, to my latest endeavors around getting our house free of junk.  Through it all I’ve read y’all’s blogs and am grateful I don’t have to face the problems some of you are experiencing, and am jealous of the FUN some of you all are having.

Let’s start with the conundrum that is sex.  Some people look at sex as a struggle between procreation and pleasure, that the experience of any kind sexual pleasure is ipso facto  a perversion.  The sole legitimate purpose of sex from that perspective is procreation, bringing another human being into the world.  Well, we all know that that is  quite the yoke to place around a person’s neck.  On the other hand to devalue procreative sex is to deny our humanity.  We need to nurture, both men and women.   There is, I think a middle ground, a via media.  Sex is about intimacy.  From that intimacy springs both ecstatic pleasure and new life. There is dissent from my position.  I get that, but I’m not here to argue.  I respect all perspectives on sex.

Next: THE HOUSE.   This place is chock full of crap, Mrs CorC’s old client files, books I probably won’t read, clothes I won’t wear, tchotchkes collecting dust.  I’ve written about it before and letting go of it is hard. It is the wasted energy of my life made both tangible and burdensome.  The latest strategy involves my working on one room at a time. My bedroom/ man cave is getting attention. I just discovered that an affiliate of Books A Million, 2nd & Charles,  buys used books and am selling some of my stuff to them.  Thank God. They evaluate up to three boxes of books a day and make an offer on the books they think they can sell.  The real value lies in getting the books out of the house; the books they don’t take can go directly to the Goodwill Donation Center situated across the street.

Speaking of which, time to load my three daily boxes and get going.

Later.

Noon

06 Thursday Apr 2017

Posted by in Classical Music, Love and stuff, Sexuality

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IMG_20170406_101852_122NSFW. Adult Language

I woke up at some mysterious time in the dead of night, knowing only that it was too damn early to be up.  The cup of decaf I brewed was cold even in my fancy stainless steel mug .  Now I was hungry too.  Whole wheat toast with peanut butter and pear preserves sounded good.  Little did I know that that would be breakfast.  In a little while I felt sleepy again, back to bed I went.  I started the CD of Saint-Saëns Piano Concerto #1 Opus 17.  And I fell down the rabbit hole of sleep.

9:30.  I gotta pee!  and I’m up now, like it or not.  I take care of that need, get dressed. I want to get the paper. Opening the door, I see a squirrel on the porch rail. Cute in its squirrelness.  While Mrs CorC? gets ready for work, I lie in bed, watching her dress, appreciating her nudity as she hides it in her khakis trousers and striped knit top.

The longing gnaws at me again. My mind catalogs the passion I feel in acts, gestures, rituals of Sex. I’m tired of dressing up Sex in its Sunday Best of Married Love. The love is there all right, but it’s time to kiss the back of her neck, nibble her ear lobe,  fondle and stroke, probe and push and shatter the Good Girl Shield that protects the parched and withering flower of her Southern Baptist C-U-N-T. 

Yes, Precious, I will lick that cunt of yours, and put my finger in there.  I will  kiss the pucker of your anus, push my tongue in a bit.  Yes I am just that dirty and I want to get you dirty too. So when you get on your hands and knees with your Baptist butt on proud display, I will tease your pussy lips with my hard prick before I push it in, spread your ass cheeks, wet your butt hole with a gob of spit and push my  finger in to stuff you like a Christmas goose.

I want to hear you say the words you never say, because you’re afraid that God is keeping score and maybe He won’t forgive you. Because you’re not ashamed you said cock and cunt and asshole and clit and fuck . And let your own Husband do the nasty with you.  And, by Jesus, you even liked it!

An Old Post Yet To Be Published

04 Sunday May 2014

Posted by in Amtrak, Sexuality

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I wrote this a long while back, in May 2014.  We had yet to sell my Aunt’s house.  I thought I would post it as it is.  I remember the day quite well. The tentative title was Sunday! Sunday! Sunday!  This was before my shoulder and back surgeries.  I was  still working.

It is Sunday. I am sitting in my late aunt’s house, now vacant, enjoying my coffee and taking time to write, enjoying the few noises I do hear. The birds sing, the insects hum, and, in the distance, a freight train moves down the main North/South line.  It is a freight because I can hear the wheels grinding on the steel rails for a long time and the air horn sounding.  When I leave the house I stop at a grade crossing to watch a Northbound Amtrak train, with nine cars, plus a locomotive.

Later I go swimming. First I weigh in and decide 204.2 lbs isn’t bad for  5ft 11in. It is down from 208 lbs a month earlier.   I do a long 1650 meter swim.  It  takes 38 min 50 sec. Not bad, I ratonalize, for a 63 year old.  I feel the stretch of my back muscles, but the stiffness in my legs restricts the efficiency of my kick.   The cool water feels great to my body.   It is an exquisitely sensual feeling, to experience my body awaken.  Later, at lunch, I remark to my wife that the endorphin rush is kicking in, a great high.

I wrote a lot more semi-philosophical gibberish about, appetites, and craving  food, alcohol and sex.  I frequently eat to change the way I feel. “That donut or (———-) (name your food of choice) will sure make me feel better or quiet the churning in my gut”.  Food worked before booze for me in changing how I felt.  And worked again after I quit drinking.  Sex was the Big Mystery, the Big Kahuna of Excitement and Mood Alteration.  I loved it.  Still do.  Being naked with a woman, coming together in a sweaty pile, making noises, and feeling that my partner (wife) and I have uncovered the secret to Oneness with The Cosmos.  (How’s that for gibberish?)