I wake up
Start to think
And wonder
What am I doing up?
Do I want to sleep, renew, restore
Or sacrifice this time for a new experience?
With the wakefulness comes the longing.
14 Thursday Mar 2019
Posted in Uncategorized
I wake up
Start to think
And wonder
What am I doing up?
Do I want to sleep, renew, restore
Or sacrifice this time for a new experience?
With the wakefulness comes the longing.
14 Thursday Mar 2019
Posted in Uncategorized
For some reason, I can’t seem to chill. The world of Word Press has me happily engaged. I can take an idea, , think it through,write it down, hit the send button and people all over the world can read it. Amazing.
Aristotle or Aquinas, John Locke or Karl Marx couldn’t do that. Not that what I write approaches any of their works. Maybe therein lies the problem. I can put it out there for the millions or billions to read and maybe seven or eight actually do.
Very sobering, I love all you guys, but these exercises in thought and self-expression can merely start here.
13 Wednesday Mar 2019
Posted in Uncategorized
Mature Topic, Of A Sexual Nature
He liked the idea of service. Whenever he performed a service that pleased his wife, he would smile, absolutely glow, at her words of approval. Gradually tasks and duties became his responsibilities. He hoped the nature of certain tasks would convey to his partner that he was being more than helpful, more than responsible.
One day, Sara Beth (his wife) returned from a trip to the green grocer and fishmonger to find Rupert (him) scrubbing the toilet bowl, stark naked, wearing only the long rubber gloves he deemed necessary for sanitary considerations.
“Why are you naked?”
“I don’t want my clothes to get stained by the bleach and other chemicals.”
“Is that why you have an erection I could hang clothes on?”
Rupert had no answer.
Sara Beth was truly puzzled. “Who would get turned on by this drudgery?” she thought. But her Rupert? He was strong, assertive, successful. Rupert had retired at 55 from a financial services career, was a dedicated fitness buff, a devoted father and grandfather. And faithful. Not even porn movies or magazines had ever entered the house. His e-mail box, to which she had access for ease of maintaining financial accounts, never had any lewd or obscene materials.
She had heard about these subservient types, from television’s pop psychologists or the magazine articles she had read while waiting at the hair salon. Submissive, they were called or simply subs. The sub would have, or want to be under the control of, as the magazines pointed out, a dominant. Someone the sub would obey. But she didn’t feel particularly “bossy”, hardly at all.
“How in Heaven’s name can I punish a man who does nothing wrong? How can I be one of those dominants in the leather corsets and fishnet stockings? I’m no more one of those than I am a circus clown or a beauty pageant contestant?”
She admitted she didn’t have answers to the riddle that her husband had now shown himself to be. At least they didn’t have to hire a maid. That was a plus.
13 Wednesday Mar 2019
Posted in Uncategorized
How can one have a “Hump Day” when there are no humps in the week? Such is my predicament. The days don’t really all run together, but there are rarely tasks for me to complete, except for swimming and writing.
When I started writing, I was worried I couldn’t tell a story. Now I’m worried I can’t write anything other than erotica (Porn).
I feel a little sickly today, like the cold has rejuvenated itself. I have to fight the urge to keep going. I suck at self-care.
11 Monday Mar 2019
Posted in Uncategorized
“You furnish the pictures and I’ll furnish the war.”William Randolph Hearst to Frederic Remington.
The story goes that upon arrival in Cuba on an assignment from Hearst and the Hearst newspapers, the artist Frederic Remington wired Hearst that he saw no signs of imminent conflict to which Hearst responded with his now famous answer, cited above.
Journalism, as a profession dedicated to an objective and factual observation of events, stood indicted by this statement.
Now, over a century after Hearst’s pronouncement, journalism, whether print, electronic, or digital, is again having its objectivity challenged. When the media carries the same biases as its readers and viewers, it is difficult to discern those biases. “How could someone who thinks as I think be wrong?” is the assumption we all make. We’re never wrong, right?
The Watergate scandal gained traction by a shared fundamental dislike of Nixon by the media and a substantial portion of the public at large. Nixon had to be behind it, right? That’s what the media was looking for, that’s what the media, Congress, and the prosecutors found.
The John F. Kennedy assassination and its subsequent investigation by the Warren Commission, was never critically reported by the media, nor did the media vet the Warren Report at that time. Subsequently, the Kennedy Assassination is a seminal event in the crafting of popular legends. Involve organized crime and the CIA in any alternative examination of the assassination and one immediately has willing and eager believers. While the Warren Report may be specious, any refutation of its findings aren’t therefore true simply because they draw different conclusions.
We come to the present day and we look to the media for further validation of our beliefs around climate change, the global economy, local economies, electoral politics, race relations or the status of women, just to name a few issues.
It is far too unnerving to think that our own prejudices are what manipulate us into thinking and acting in the ways that we do. No one wants to believe that we furnish and tie the strings to our wrists ourselves that the puppeteers jerk.
10 Sunday Mar 2019
Posted in Uncategorized
10 Sunday Mar 2019
Posted in Uncategorized
Using the Albuterol Inhaler helps but it is taking a while. But I am feeling better. We joke about how we dread the “Spring forward” time change. So I am up and the clock says 5:30, but my body and mind say 4:30.
I’m watching people on YouTube nose around abandoned property. Creepy. I don’t have the chutzpah to do that.
We shall see how today unfolds. Still don’t feel up to going to Mass. I might just watch TV Mass and leave it at that.
09 Saturday Mar 2019
Posted in Uncategorized
It is 2:09 AM Eastern Time North America. I have been up about two hours. I wasn’t feeling all that well. I was also due for a dose of Albuterol through the inhaler.
I am tired. I feel lonely. Later today we are supposed to drive to Fredericksburg, 50 miles North to have dinner with J’s brother and his wife. Right now I don’t feel up for it. My brother-in-law and his wife are really nice people. But I just want to rest.
Questions around sex plague me. I will press on.
I am sleepy again. Back to bed for me.
Later Loves ❤
08 Friday Mar 2019
Posted in Erotic Writing, Uncategorized
Tags
NSFW Erotic Fiction. Vanilla, Though Hopefully Nielsen-Massey
Eight
Flor remembered being escorted from the training room to her bedroom and being put to bed.
As she slept or floated among the worlds of sleeping, wakefulness, dreams, reality, she heard the door open. Through half-open eyes, she saw The Captain walk in. He approached the bed, bent down, and tenderly kissed her left temple.
“Are you awake, Flor?”
“Yes, Sir”
“I want you.” With that admission, he began to undress. He slipped his feet out of the college boy cordovan penny loafers, (with pennies for chrissakes!) Then the black over-the- calf dress socks, (wool, I’ll betcha, thought Flor), Next was the tight-ass White Guy, Brooks Brothers blue cotton oxford button down shirt. (“Are you gonna fold that too or just leave the fuckin’ clothes in a pile?”she thought) Pile. He just let it drop. Next the athletic shirt, aka “wife-beater”. Then the Tight Ass White Guy twill khakis with the crease that looked sharp enough to cut a steak. He was now standing before her in, what else white cotton boxer shorts. This is like a character from a Cheever story getting naked before my very eyes. He even took off his dog tags and his friggin’ watch.
“No watch. Now he’s totally vulnerable!” she thought.
She noticed his erection before he climbed into the bed beside her, pulled her to him, and kissed the nape of her neck.
Nine
Something in the back of her mind told her this would be some sort of tender, virginal, love making, Barbie and Ken on Their Wedding Night. But then, he pulled her to her knees so his fingers had access to her nipples, which he pulled, then pinched then pulled again as the tender neck kisses turned to nips with his teeth. His hand moved from her breast to slap her upturned ass, then slapped her hard again. And again. And again to build the burn and the heat. He turned her on her back, kissed her mouth and she responded. He was feeling her quim to gauge its moisture, then his fingers entered her and she ground her cunt into them. He took his hand away, teased her labia with his cock, then thrust in. He draped her legs over his shoulders and pressed in deeply, his hands gripping her ass.
The Captain looked deeply into her eyes, just before she closed them to better feel him take her.
And then her crisis came, as if another kiss, caress or thrust would be too much. And then he came, had his orgasm, filled her with his seed, as the Victorian Porn might have said.
He held her silently, because nothing need be said.
08 Friday Mar 2019
Posted in Uncategorized
The doctor visit resulted in the Albuterol inhaler being prescribed. The next step is using the inhaler, which I have. I am feeling better. Breathing is getting easier.
Whenever I post, I am so grateful for my readers. You guys are a safe space for me. I feel accepted for being the mass of contradictions that I am. That leads me to think that if I am a mass of contradictions, maybe all of us are.