Shared Cindy

5th Blogiversary

2011-07-07T14:25:00.000-07:00

THE YEAR IN REVIEW

Holy cow... Shared Cindy is marking its 5th Blogiversary? So much has changed, including us. After I reprise the last year in tradition, you can jump back to our previous Blogiversaries to see all the changes, both in the content of Shared Cindy itself, and see the historically-long lists of now, non-responsive links in the reviews from the past. I'm sure many will be familiar to those of who you who have been with us.

As a Blogiversary, there should be little celebration or fanfare here, unless endurance counts. As a sex blog, I feel that Shared Cindy no longer qualifies and I'm not sure how to go forward. While I think about it, I'll post some highlights from the leanest year of blog postings, so there won't be much. (It's actually all a ruse to get you to wander through the archives, spend a little more time and perhaps even leave a comment, the only drug bloggers crave).

July begins with the resumption of Pinky's Story at Chapter 7, just as my not-yet 12 year-old dick explodes in my 17 year-old babysitter's mouth, culminating my very first oral ejaculation. We went on for a lot more youthful exploration, but read for yourself. Next is a short, but informative post, concluding an issue that was opened earlier in the year. This post was about when Kyle Called and, "The Talk" we had regarding his very attractive wife. Sigh...

For a distraction, I ran a Personal Preference Poll regarding genital grooming practices. The choices ranged from "Untrimmed" to "Smooth" (definitions in poll). Untrimmed" was lowest at 9% of the votes. "Smooth", with 44% was way ahead of the second place, "Landing Strip" with 19%. Totally unscientific and therefore usless, except for amusement.

Carrying over to August, or I'd have nothing to reprise, are the results of the Personal Preference Poll above. Ironically, while the numbers of the poll have continued to creep up as readers find it in the archives, the percentages have changed very little from the week in August when I first reported on it.

September begins with Chapter 8 of Pinky's Story and the nastiest kiss I had ever received in my life. Next is an honest take on being the Ham in the Sandwich... the nearly every man's fantasy of bedding and satisfying two women at the same time. Fellows, if you've never done it, stay excited and attracted to the fantasy, because in practice it's a bit more demanding. See what "Wolfman" had to say about what happens to a F in a MFM in the "comments" section of the same post. I've experienced threeways many times, both MFM and FMF and if I had to choose a three-way combo, it would almost always be two men and one woman, instead of the more popular fantasy of the other way around.

October begins like September, with Chapter 9 of Pinky's Story. A long mental build-up to an evening when even the planets were aligned. October finishes as quickly as September with a sexy post about Fucking the Neighbors – Joe and Suzy, obviously. An interesting evening when no one coupled with their own partner, instead, each watched their spouse "perform" with the other. Unplanned, sexy and fun, and Suzy snapped one of the best pictures ever!

We begin November with some bad MCP (Male Chauvanist Pig) jokes, shamelessly used as filler material due to writer lacking something original. However, joke Number 10 is rather funny, tho'.

Pinky and I continue our sexplorations in Chapter 10 of Pinkys Story. With my parents gone overnight, we spend our first night together. In the previous chapter, the planets were aligned. In this one, worlds collide.

Crazy Perverts was a post reviewing the most popular picture downloads from Shared Cindy. There were a few surprises that I made gentle fun of and the matter of image downloads will continue to evolve as you read.

With the blog getting more and more mundane as the year waned, in December, both the title and post of, Nasty Less Often are accurate descriptions why.

Maybe I'm the Pervert?, is about what occured when a group of Christmas carolers crashed us on a sleepy Christmas morning. In it I described some unsettling moments that were magnified because the potential for this exact scenario flashed through my mind only a few days earlier. Maybe I should have linked that entry first for context, but if you're interested enough, jump back a post. (In considering this post for reviewing, I noticed the stocking-picture in question has somehow disappeared. {shrugging} lol Maybe the caroler took it for evidence?

Last post of the numerical year is quite naturally, Happy New Year!. It's totally un-notable and included only because it contains the number one, most-popular image that's been downloaded from this blog in the past year, "Santa Baby". Yep... out of all the pictures found here, this is the number one download.

In January, Promises, Promises, leads. A rather length story about a long, hot bath with Cindy and a candid glimpse at our personal interactions. Ironically, this post contains the surprising fourth most-downloaded image in the last year, a painting by Edouard-Henri Avril, a turn-of-the-century erotic illustrator. We'll have more surprising downloads to follow.

Also in January, Shared Cindy got harder to find, being blocked by Google and other search engines. It's annoying in thought and it has probably cost me some traffic, but it would have been taken with more offence had I been building up a blog, instead of winding one down. I still don't like it, but it's better than finding everything shut down one day as some have.

Pinky's Story resumes with Chapter 11 and our sex education continues to boldly go forth on our second magical night together. I skipped the post about the Kempinski Hotel in Frankfurt, so the next link isn't to a post, it goes directly to the seventh most-downloaded image this year. Who would have thought? The last entry in January, Chapter 12 contains the abrupt conclusion to Pinky's Story, "Where No One Can Hear You scream".

Only four posts in February, but hey... it's the shortest month, right? "In for a penny, in for a pound", I guess... so here's the Epilogue to Pinky's Story, because it fits if anyone is still interested and because I wouldn't have much of a February to report on otherwise. Next is a lengthy, "Ask Mike" column, where I answer readers' questions. This time, all the questions were about Pinky's Story and I was hoping everyone wasn't getting "Pinkied-out", by now.

March had only a single entry worth rereading, another, "Ask Mike" column, but least I'm writing about sex again.

April too had only one post, Poking Fun At Her, which I've been doing a lot lately. In this post, I kind of explain the flux we're in and talk about a few trips we've been on. Here's where the sidebar resumes. Within this post are two more of the most-downloaded images. "Another Notch" is number two, and "Moon Phases" is number five. Strange that all these are among the top ten image downloads from Shared Cindy for the year, and none of them are the nasty, sex blog photos one would think would prevail. I think this one should at least be in the top ten, donch'a think? Oh my!

In May, I got to proudly declare that Sharing Dee is back! That link will take you to his link. Go. Hurry. Run! Lots of great reading and lots of nasty pictures. The model for hotwife blogs.

June is about, My Little Cum Bucket, which she is. I do some reporting and although it's not an official "Ask Mike" column, I answer readers' questions about sex, pregnancy and our new state of monogomy. The last entry before this one was On a Decade of Decadance, a term I instantly hijacked from a reader. There are more Q's & A's about our lifestyle and even fantasies and this post closes the blog-year for Shared Cindy.

Stats: This is my 415th post, used to attract more than 1.8 million hits, resulting in over 2,400 comments since July 2007. I know that Shared Cindy is a shell of what it once was, but from there to here, I owe 1.8 million thanks to you readers along the way. For a glimpse backwards in time to see the many changes in a condensed directory, click any of these...

1st Blogiversary 2007

2nd Blogiversary 2008

3rd Blogiversary 2009

4th Blogiversary 2010

Thanks for getting us this far.

On a "Decade of Decadance"

2011-07-04T13:58:00.000-07:00

(Told'ja I'd use it. At the second question, you'll understand )

A few more questions have come trickling in. The following one came from a new reader, evidently disappointed at discovering us in our Autumn rather than our Spring. Good question, tho'.

Q) Typical of my luck. Now that I have just found you guys, you're "retiring" on me. That's alright, I respect your plans and can console myself that I have five year's of archives to catch up on, but darn my luck. Since it does sound like you are retiring from the lifestyle, at least temporarily, looking back, do you have any regrets of any kind? Has anything ever gone wrong or has anyone ever got jealous or had their feelings hurt?

A) I personally don't have a single regret and I don't believe anyone else in our group does either. When you say, "has anyone", I assume that you mean within our circle, where I can't recall a single incident where anyone got jealous or hurt or even experienced a misunderstanding. However, as I've stated previously, we are our own unique culture and may be different in this respect.

As far as, "has anything ever gone wrong"? Yes, several times, but with others, never within our group. The only one involving us was an adventure gone wrong which is detailed here, and describes the train-wreck of a near hook-up in Mexico that was a strong reminder for us to stick to our agendas and not be distracted by sudden opportunity. At large house parties and private clubs, we've seen several incidences of a spouse (usually the male) getting suddenly jealous of a partner or situation. Fortunately, these were never violent, just momentarily loud and disturbing and would be quite the mood-kill. It is also safe to say that alcohol consumption was almost always involved and chemically altered moods and perceptions probabaly contributed to these outbursts.

It's interesting to follow our changes. Initially, when we first blossomed (a lá Anais Nin), every partner had to be a new one, an adventure and thus began our dogging days. No meet-n-greet, no dinner, no drinks, no dance, no courtship, no seduction, just pick-up, raw gonzo sex. Fortunately, with no incidences, mishaps or disease, we quickly matured and moved into the more-structured world of swinging. While spending time in this environment, we experienced the natural starts and stops and the awkward hits and misses of meeting and dealing with people of different persuasions and tastes. After a couple of years, we evolved out of swinging with strangers and began sharing with friends, some of them met while swinging. Obviously, we have nothing against swinging and despite our reckless entry into the lifestyle, over time we have grown to prefer that we actually know who we're fucking. When I say "we", I mean the Baker's Dozen of us, east and west. Far less adventurous, but much more predictible and safe... and so are we.

Q) If you looked back on your decade of decadance, is there any person or sex act that you've desired that did not come to fruition?

A) Other than being a normal guy who desires every attractive woman I see, no. Seriously, I desire no one I really know, although avoiding sex with Kyle and his wife, Kristen was a disappointment.

As for your, "Decade of Decadance" description... I like it, thanks. I'm gonna use it myself.

Q) Is there a sex act, "that I've desired" that has not ocurred?

A) As a heterosexual male, no. I have done and had done to me all I care to do or allow. However, I remain an oral-curious hetero and have yet to have this fantasy fulfilled, although it's a milder fetish than you might think. I don't want anal sex with a man, pitching or catching, nor do I necessarily want to suck a cock to make it cum (exception to follow), but the way Joe's slick hardness looks after it is withdrawn from a gaping Cindy or Suzy, is mesmerizing and looks really yummy and I'll bet it would feel even more amazing. I probably want to try it simply because it's so creamy and nasty and forbidden... just like Pinky taught me.

Missing this isn't the greatest disappointment in the world for me, just one that I'll not likely experience, as Joe is the most logical one to accomodate this curiosity and that's not gonna happen.

Too bad I couldn't do myself.

Then for sure, I'd suck it till it came!

Yeah, baby!

That reminds me of the old, man-joke, where the guys are fishing or playing cards and all are lamenting about the serious lack of oral sex at home. One of the guys grumbled, "I gave up trying. I'd have more luck if I could suck my own cock." As this concept slowly sank in, one of the other guys said, "Shit... if I could suck my own cock, I'd never leave the house."

Probably a lot of truth to that.

Oh yeah... I'm supposed to be answering questions, not joking around.

The next one came from a gal who commented that reading certain posts have gotten her, "all twitterpated". Oh my... you poor dear! I hope it isn't contaigous! Seriously, I'm glad you got your twitter all pated. Hopefully more than once. She also asked,

Q) You guys have lived a pretty wild life, do you have or need any sexual fantasies?

A) I don't need sexual fantasies, but I have them all the time... like every time I see an attractive woman. I don't necessarily daydream about sex, but like all animals, my genetic Alpha-male imprinting has me ever alert to the mate-selection component of my reproductive drive. This may sound rather cave-mannish, but it's always there... I just don't go acting on it. Besides... bonking a gal on the head with a club and dragging her off to your cave is no longer in style, and if you do this, you'll probably not get much oral sex either.

I have a few more questions to answer, but I'll stop now... I'm being silly. Oh yeah...

Thanks to all veterans, past and present.

Have a safe and happy 4th of July!

My Little Cum Bucket

2011-06-24T15:17:00.000-07:00

I'm still pokin' fun at her, but she's not taking me seriously yet. No, that's not right... she's quite serious about me pokin' fun, and quite often, but evidently Mother Nature hasn't received the memo yet because Aunt Flo' has come and gone twice since we began our baby-making "mission".

I guess we need more practice, huh? Nothing wrong with that. I'll just do what my high-school football coach used to say, "Boy, you keep runnin' that play 'til you get it right." That coach was a wise man, and I eventually did get it right, so at his sound and proven advice, I'll keep practicing.

I have to. You see, my now-personal and exclusive hotwife is approaching the sexual peak of her life and is commanding more sexual attention from me than ever. On top of that, she has never looked more attractive and alluring, or been more insatiably horny, even in her teens. Holy shit, she is drop-dead gorgeous! They say that women, "glow" during pregnancy. I reckon they might, because it seems she's started glowing in anticipation. Her eyes sparkle and are full of mischief, her hair is soft and shiny enough to be on a commercial, her smooth skin is only slightly tanned with our late-arriving summer and she sometimes smells faintly of soap or coco-butter. Mmm... Yum! Woof! Yowsa! OMG, what a woman!

However lately, I can't help thinking about the line or a joke somewhere about, "getting fucked to death". It's kind of a joke to think about, wondering if it's possible, but I think about it a lot lately because it just might happen! Honestly! Here lately, the first post-orgasmic thoughts that drift back into my head aren't of afterglow, they're of survival! As I'm gasping like a carp, I'm wondering if I'll ever catch my breath again or if my heart will burst from my chest! Damn! My little cum-bucket is insatiable! What a time to have Joe benched and on the sidelines! (A question about Joe and this subject is below).

OK, shifting gears... since my last post, I've received several questions via e-mail in an attempt to learn what I'm not writing about.

Here's one from a curious lady reader.

Q: It's exciting to hear that you two are trying to start a family. Are you guys doing anything special to do so? By that, I mean are you eating special foods or diets,

A: No, nothing special. Cindy has always been more health-conscious than I am. Not to the point of being on a set diet, but she does watch what she eats most of the time, mainly so she can be a glutton at the appropriate table or event. She's never smoked and now, while in "maternity mode", she savors a single glass of wine about once a week.

Q: have you increased your frequency of sex,

A: As far as have we increased our frequency of sex?, I'd have to say yes, although this is not the result of a conscious decision. I say yes because although our actual frequency of sex remains about the same, we're having sex more with each other, now that we're monogamous again. I'd guess that Joe and Suzy are experiencing the same thing.

Q: or use certain positions, etc.?

A: Cindy has read that certain positions during and after sex facilitate the little swimmers' journey, but we keep her girl parts so thoroughly supplied with them, we hope this won't be necessary.

The same gal asked,

Q: If/When Cindy gets pregnant, will you travel less or will she stay with Joe and Suzy?

A: I'm working on all three. My boss is aware of our intentions and he will be as sensitive to it as he can, but sometimes I'll be the only wrench to fit a nut and I'll have to travel. In the event of my absence, a very loving and dedicated support group lives just down the road and it seems that "Aunt Suzanne" is here even more often than before.

Another lady said,

Q: Cindy seemed moved at learning of the degree of your emotional involvement with Pinky. Does she she still intend to write about her feelings on it?

A: I just asked her and she said, "Y'know... it seemed important a few months ago, but now, not so much. You finish it." No, dear wife (and reader)... I'm finished with Pinky's Story too.

A curious guy asked,

Q: I don't want to sound cynical or crass, but Joe has been banging your wife for years. How do you know he'll be able to resist another slice if he has the chance?

Because I've asked him not to.

I know that answer probably doesn't satisfy you because you're most likely thinking, "You asked him not to? Yeah, but..."

No "Yeah, buts..." here. You see, I live in a wonderful world where I give all in everything I do, whether it's work, play. or relationships. Within a relationship (not a mere friendship), this includes complete love, complete trust and complete faith. When I do this for others I love, I get the same back. Because all of the people that I love and especially those in our small circle, share the same core values, we think and feel alike and we all behave basically in the same manner. I'm certain this is our attraction, and center-of-gravity. Our group has our own built-in, self-reinforcement mechanism.

Let me find other words. Perhaps it's because within our small group - both here and in New York - if a person made a request to do or not do something, it would be honored out of honor... out of respect. To behave contrary, especially if someone made a specific request, would be very difficult for any of us.

I guess the best way to explain it without citing specifics would go something like this; Because everyone within our small group is so much alike in character and mores, I'd say that we live and operate together within our very own culture, where gentle structures and unspoken rules do exist, but where communication, mutual respect, love and understanding keep the mechanism running smoothly. I hope that makes some sort of sense.

"Because I've asked him not to", was my initial answer to the question regarding Joe's attraction to Cindy's charms. That is not quite accurate. I didn't ask Joe or anyone else this specifically. Rather, Cindy and I announced our plans for a family, which includes monogamy, to everyone in our group. Everyone knows. Everyone understands. Everyone respects. This is how our culture works.

Some of you still skeptical? Still worried about Joe? C'mon... MikeCindynJoe have been together the longest of our entire little family, perhaps once being the nucleus of it. But again, it may be difficult for some to fully comprehend that within our structure, our culture, our way of life, Joe's love and loyalty for me and Cindy make this impossible. In our culture, we do not resist weakness and grow weaker, instead we embrace strength and grow stronger.

Is Joe human? Is Joe fallible? Most certainly, we all are, but not on this subject. Even if Cindy were to purposefully approach him as an experiment, like opposing magnets, Joe would move away. He'd practically be forced to. For them to click together in this circumstance is simply not possible and we're all hardwired this way. The structure, the dynamics, the physics of our family culture doesn't allow this.

(Wow... now I'm claiming to have culture? lol)

I received another good question, but this one will be an answer all it's own. Sorry for being away so long. Will try to do better.

Sharing Dee Is Back!

2011-05-01T15:15:00.000-07:00

To my most pleasant surprise, the inspiration for my own blog, Shared Cindy, reappeared on my radar this morning. Yes, Sharing Dee has returned after a long hiatus. Unfortunately it sounds like Dee has had a difficult time health-wise and we wish her all the best for her full recovery.

Joe sounds rather pensive in his first-in-a-long-time post. I don't know if he's back blogging, or merely giving us a sign of life. Of course, I'd prefer the former, but also appreciate the latter. It appears that his entire blog is back up and I can't wait to re-peruse his very juicy posts and galleries. You'll love them. Erotic stories about sharing, warm friendships and lotsa nasty pictures. Undisputedly, the best blog of it's type. Go spin his hit-counter and let him know we're happy he's returned.

Welcome back, Joe!

Poking Fun at Her

2011-04-14T19:11:00.000-07:00

It's been a month since I last posted, the longest interval between posts since this blog began almost 5 years ago. If you're curious about my absence, Cindy and I ran off together for 10 heavenly days in Mexico. A few days later, she accompanied me on a short business trip to Germany. Business there was concluded in two days, but we stayed on for three more as guests and tourists.

I've always felt that the hotel environment causes, creates or allows the conditions and psychology for what is called, "hotel sex", and this was reaffirmed again. We've been living in hotels for almost three weeks and we've been behaving like newlyweds and rutting like animals. While this tid-bit in itself may not be news, it is slightly different in the sense that it supports the new and different mission we're on... to get pregnant.

Yeah, I know... I've been talking about it and around it, off-and-on for the last year or so, but now all of our maternity planning is in place, the nursery is complete and Joe has agreed to keep his big dick out of my wife while we try to conceive.

After arriving at and finally crossing this mental threshold, everything seems somehow slightly different than before. Nothing in a negative sense, but maybe things seem a little more calm, a little more serious, a little more sensible. A phase change. Perhaps a major one.

With the exception of a brief year of reckless dogging, we've never been irresponsible or immature and we've always managed to make the right decisions about life, finances, household issues, etc., but in this new spirit of calm, it suddenly seems like we've been on one big party for the last ten years. Now there's absolutely nothing wrong with a big party, but with this new focus in our lives, I'm feeling somehow older, more mature, although neither of these have occurred... only my perception of them.

It's kind of like the changing phases of the moon. The moon does not physically change, but our perception of it does. That's how I'm feeling. I know I'm not any different, but somehow I just feel that way. Like the moon showing a different face even though it really doesn't. Make sense? If it doesn't, don't try too hard... this is just a blog.

Speaking of which, Shared Cindy may also be entering a new phase... or not at all. Until recently, I could have never gone 30 days without posting something, even if it was just a Sign of Life as a placeholder. Lately though, and especially after surviving my recent and longest hiatus without squirming in the least, I'm thinking I can live without writing a sex blog. Especially when considering our lifestyle is slowing and there are fewer and fewer adventures to support such an enterprise. Except for writing about older events, Shared Cindy isn't much of a sex blog any longer.

However, I don't think I'll take it down, at least not for a while (over 400 posts is a lot of work, so hurry up, picture-collectors). Instead I'll post this disclaimer that I may or may not be posting much, or at all. This is not said without reservation because most of the core group who follows this blog has been doing so for some time and I wrongly feel like I'm letting someone down.

I reckon that a five year run is pretty good for a personal sex blog that doesn't advertise, do reviews or sell stuff, but even so, a sex blog should have regular, sex-related posts (especially one called "Shared Cindy", ya think?). This is no longer the case here and my traffic understandably reflects it.

To brag a bit, in it's best days, Shared Cindy received about 5,000 hits a day. With the same honesty, it is now only 10% of its former self, averaging about 500 daily visits. Personally, I'd like to reach 2,000,000 page-loads before "retiring", but with the counter showing just over 1.8M and getting only 500 hits a day, it will take over a year to reach the 2M milestone. We'll see. I expect a lot is going to happen in the next year. I'm not bitching or complaining, not even politely, just thinking out loud.

Oh yeah... and here I am. Since I've finally made an appearance, I should probably share a little of our last four weeks with you.

With Cindy's now-fertile ovaries off-limits to her boyfriends, we left Joe and Suzy home and flew to Mexico for ten heavenly days. It wasn't a second honeymoon, but it evolved into one. It was great... warm, balmy and beachy everyday and we got a good jump on the summer with an early tan. On Friday night, we made our traditional sojourn to the club district see Julio at his gay nightclub. We were both surprised and disappointed to learn that he had left the club just two months earlier, supposedly out-of-his-mind lovesick, to follow some soccer-playing superstar to Brazil.

The owners were disappointed too. Julio had been a fantastic club manager for them and the club's business and popularity had already fallen way off with his departure. Despite his glaring absence, we had fun and even saw one or two of the locals, but the club just wasn't the same without his charisma and entertainment abilities. Except for the fun-to-do, but boring-to-read-about, sailing, fishing, diving, eating, drinking, dancing, shopping, and tourist-stuff we did, there's not much to report from Mexico unless you want to hear about a 40-ish, married couple who are diligently nesting.

The trip to Germany was almost better, if possible, although being scheduled right after Mexico, the weather felt much cooler than the 60 degrees it averaged. We stayed at the Kempinski again, even got the same room, which worked well for us as it is located well away from the central areas in one of the sprawling wings. This privacy allowed my Cindy to vocalize her enthusiasm, which was substantial the entire trip. (That is not the Kempinski bedpost, lol!)

Mid-week, I worked a couple of short, light-work days in downtown Frankfurt, while Cindy went shopping with some of the business wives. Our evenings were composed of savory dinners with associates where we exchanged gifts and souvenirs of our respective countries. The desserts were sweet, salty, spicy, and sexy... long nights of passionate lovemaking with my incredible bride.

In fact, the night before we left, our sex was rather monumental. Cindy has been on fire for weeks and I have been mightily challenged to ramp things up. I guess I have because on our last night, in the course of prolonged and physical lovemaking, she began squirting like I had never seen her do before and by the time we collapsed together, we had totally wet the bed! Well... not totally, but it was so wet, we had to put several towels down to wick up the wet spots overnight. We wound up sleeping on our sides, scrunched-up like spoons on the dry side of the bed, giggling like teenagers at our wonderful mess.

As I rang for coffee in the morning, I watched my embarrassed wife strip the hotel bed and drape the still-damp sheets over the shower enclosure to dry. I didn't say anything, but I'm sure I rolled my eyes.

We went down to breakfast with the "Bitte nicht Stören" sign hanging on the ornate doorknob to keep out anxious or well-intentioned maids. With an early evening flight, we opted for a late check-out and took a lazy stroll through Sachsenhausen and had lunch. Later that day when Cindy started to remake the fancy hotel's bed (!) I reminded her of the hotel business and what happens in them and how some semi-damp sheets from a single couple's bed are nothing compared to what they have seen or cleaned over time, and mentioned some of our own hotel parties as testimonial. Not at all interested in my opinion, logic or perspective, she shot me a look over her shoulder that said, "This subject is non-negotiable, so shut up and help". Being a well-trained husband and experienced survivor of marriage, I did both, and we left the maid to wonder if the bed had been slept in or not.

So now you know where we've been...

... and now you know what we've been doing.

We've never done this before and we don't know how long it might take, but if practice makes perfect, then I'm gonna keep poking fun at her until she takes it serious.

(Do you agree there's just somethin' about "Hotel Sex"?)

Afterglow Music

2011-03-13T19:58:00.000-07:00

Play it as you read... but start it at 1:30.

And the mouse is kinda cute, too.

It must have been near dawn. Not dark but quite dim. I don't know what caused me to stir and waken as I was a tired and sleepy combination of physical exhaustion and sexual satiation... the endorphins that had been released earlier in the evening were still coursing, flowing through my body, each speck like a tiny, effervescent bubble that eventually bursts into a billion tiny sparkles and releases still more of that relaxed and everything-feels-good feeling. Mmm... afterglow.

Only partially awake, I became aware that I was lying on my right side, my feet entwined with smooth, smaller ones. Through one eye, I could see Suzy facing me a few feet away... ok, they were her feet. Not a bad start. Like me, she was stirring too. Logically, Joe and Cindy had to be behind me (Our custom bed is five pillows wide). Suzy's short and normally perfectly-coifed, lawyer-type, daytime hairdo was mussed and tousled from the evenings gymnastics. I noticed that Suzy's I-Tunes music was still playing softly from our iHome player. It was mostly "in the background" and I was sleepy but it was captivating and it started to penetrate my waking consciousness, gently forcing me to listen. It wasn't familiar with it but it had a soft, infectious beat and breathy, ethereal lyrics and music. It sounded just like I felt and it fit my mood perfectly so I listened.

Suzy opened her sleepy eyes and saw me. Remembering our mutual pleasure over the course of the evening, she slowly broke into a broad smile and then pursed her lips and kissed me in the air. I returned both and lazily melted back into the sheets, allowing the beat of the music to enter my body to accompany the sparkly explosions. I let the music take me. I remembered it was rather long, about ten minutes and slightly repetitious, but again... it fit my mood. I don't remember it ending so I must have fallen asleep. Suzy remembered the song too and we both commented on it at breakfast. It was, "I Remember" by Deadmou5 with Kaskade. I don't normally plug stuff, but I just wanted to see if you've ever felt like this song.

The entro in this version is longer and different than the version we heard last night but if you started at 1:30, it sounds the same. I posted it so you can get an idea of how our mutual, nocturnal moment felt. I downloaded it the next day.

Enjoy.

"Ask Mike"

2011-03-11T19:15:00.000-08:00

Unlike the last batch of questions that dealt with Pinky, these are about sex and our lifestyle.

First, from someone named, "M", (sorry, no link) who suggested an interesting book:

Always a pleasure to read your thoughts and experiences. Thanks for sharing those. Allow me to suggest a book for you and Cindy - Sex at Dawn. It argues that humans did not evolve in monogamous, nuclear families but rather in small, intimate groups where "most matuer individuals would have several ongoing sexual relationships at any given time." Sounds familiar? I think you may enjoy it. Makes perfect senses, it's scientifically backed up and the authors' style is just captivating. Check it out: Sex at Dawn

I did. Browsed the table of contents and skimmed a few pages... sounds quite interesting. It's available on Kindle too, so no one can see what you're reading (no book cover). Thanks.

"M" then asked these questions:

Do Joe and Suzy sleep with other people in California, meaning do they have a small circle of their own? Always wondered that.

No, none of us on either coast ventures out-of-bounds, although three of us nearly did on a lark in Mexico that turned into a train wreck and taught us a lesson about only one of the hazards of casual hook-ups. While slowly shopping, Judy has been on a few dinner dates, but as of now she still prefers to play only within our circle. Because everyone goes bareback, all of us are honor-bound to remain monogamous within our circle and we voluntarily share our annual check-up results. While our common thread is debauched and perverted adultery, we have also been together for years, have grown to love each other, be very close friends and respect our agreements and understandings. (Note: Had the girls and I strayed in our fortunately-failed hookup in Mexico, as guilty sexual offenders, we would have honestly declared so and self-quarantined ourselves (Sorry you can't fuck Suzy 'till the test results come back, Joe, but I can, lol).

Also, how often do you guys engage in some sexual activity? Every day? I know I do and wondered if you guys did the same.

Nearly everyday. I'm a man and that means I'm almost always ready and in the mood. Fortunately, my bride is practically insatiable, so neither of us go unfulfilled. As good as this is, having Joe and Suzy down the road vastly increases our frequency.

Last, and this one is the most personal, what happened to the baby idea? I was secretely hoping (and still am) that your family will increase in size...because at the end of the day, I am a romantic with crazy maternal instincts.

I get this one a lot. It seems we have several cheerleaders and fans of the idea of a little Mike or Cindy running around (Heaven help the world!). To answer your question, yes, having children is very much on our minds. The meter is running on our maternal clock but we still have a few arrangements to complete. Medically-speaking, Cindy recently had a full check up and her doctor foresees no maternity issues. (We also gotta figure out how to keep Joe away while Cindy is a "Fertile Myrtle", lol)

Anonymous asked:

Once you mentioned the girls bought you and Joe [a couple of] Aneros. You haven't written anything about ass play.

Oh yeah... wow, those! (smiling) To the unaware, Aneros is a series of prostate massagers. They were Christmas presents from our wicked women a couple of years ago. Why do I say "wicked"? Maybe because, in addition to the intimate type of gift it is (ass-play for men), my wife gave her lover his sex toy and his lover gave me mine. The first time we tried them, the girls took over and practically killed us both. I think they enjoyed using us as much as we enjoyed being used. I'll just say here that they have been well received and have endured considerable use. Thanks, good story idea. Grist for the mill.

Another anonymous reader asked:

Taking some time and reviewing some of the older posts. Back in Jan of 07, there was a "Karen" that came to the New Years Eve party. Seems that Cindy and Suzy thought she was "hot" and might have possibilities. Apparently nothing ever came of that? I don't recall ever seeing any follow-on postings.

Thanks for taking the time to cruise the archives and even more for commenting on them. Older posts seldom get commented on, I don't know why.

Yeah, Karen was quite hot as I recall. I don't know what became of her or if she still lives in the neighborhood as we haven't seen her since our first mixer. Back then, we (meaning the girls) were considering enlarging our circle, but this notion seems to have fallen by the wayside.

Another Anonymous said:

Ya and I remember a Mona who had a suspicious brother and you were banging her before [you met] Cindy. You said she came back later into you and Cindy's life and bed. don't know which post it was. How about that one?

Ahh... little Miss Mona. Wow, are those some hot stories! Mona and Cindy are a lot alike and together they can burn down the house. Because I sometimes teasingly spell Cindy's name, "Sindy", I spell Mona's name, "Moan-a". Yeah, another good story, thanks.

That's it for now. See... leaving a comment works!

Not Much To Blog About

2011-03-04T17:54:00.000-08:00

What... you mean just make stuff up? Naw... I'm not good at it and besides, that's reserved for politicians and writers of fiction, but that's redundant. I don't twitter or tweet either. Yeah, Mike is boring.

If you don't believe me, if I did twitter or tweet (which seems more like thinking out loud to me), this would be a thumbnail of my mundane week in a single, rambling paragraph:

Last Saturday I helped Joe finish replacing their heavy wooden-lattice patio cover that the recent Santa Ana winds blew down two weeks ago. We managed to come away with all digits and limbs intact. As a reward, Suzy made us a huge dinner and in return, Joe and I fell asleep watching TV. He had an early tee-time the next morning so I took the girls to Laguna Beach for Sunday brunch. On Monday I left for a three-day business trip to Monterrey, MX and made it back alive. I shouldn't say that... Monterrey is not like the wild-west border-towns we read about. Even did my expenses without Cindy having to remind me. I have jury duty coming up soon... that's always interesting. Noticed yesterday that the fruit trees and wild blackberries are blooming already. Mmm... hoping for an early summer. Speaking of summer, I'm toying with the idea of buying a new surfboard. Just thinking about it though, I already have three of them but don't laugh... Joe has three sets of golf clubs and always has an eye out for anything more promising (expensive). I hardly ever play the lotto scratcher cards, but at a 7-11 yesterday, instead of taking $2 in change, I bought a scratcher and won 20 bucks! Think I might play more often. We had a 2.4 earthquake yesterday (there are hundreds a day... we just don't feel them until they're in the mid-3's) Just before I sat to type this, I dry-rub seasoned and put in the fridge, four thick rib-eye steaks to grill this weekend, leaving the wine up to Cindy.

See... boring. Well, not exactly boring, but certainly not exciting or worthy of writing about – my own example is my example... there's simply not much to blog about.

I did receive some great questions in comments and e-mail and will be posting an "Ask Mike" column soon, but as our lifestyle continues to mellow, unless it's answering questions or reprising an older story, we have less and less to write about.

Suggestions?

"Ask Mike"

2011-02-18T12:16:00.000-08:00

I've received enough questions from readers lately to make a couple of "Ask Mike" postings. Since most of these are about Pinky and because her story is fresh in the mind, I'll answer these first.

Asked by several readers in different versions and paraphrased:

1) Have you/Did you/Will you ever actually search for Pinky?

Yes I have. At least 1,000,002 times, but if you don't count the number of times, pre lap-top, I used to thumb through a local phone book looking for her last name when I traveled... then twice.

No, I don't seek out phone books and frankly, there's a lot fewer of them to be found these days, but years ago when I was a lonesome junior-exec on the road and alone in a hotel-room somewhere, I'd idly flip through the phone book in her part of the alphabet hoping to trip and fall over something. This went away until the Internet matured and became more accessible.

The first time I looked for Pinky was an Internet search, such as it was at the time. It wasn't an in-depth search as these services were both rather new and for me at the time, expensive. As a college student with a limited budget and a hot girlfriend named Cindy to distract me from the memories of previous lovers, I searched no farther until much later.

The second search came during the Dark Years of our marriage, the period with lots of time, little communication and even less sex. Driven by loneliness and innate curiosity (did I not mention love?), I did a second Internet search for the very first love of my life. This time I had better devices and enough money to drive it further, however this attempt was no more successful than the first. It just took longer and cost more before conceeding.

As I've lamented here several times before... my single greatest handicap is not remembering her true name. Emotionally paralyzed at the time, I could ask about or speak to no one about Pinky. With the trail much colder now, the few relatives, friends and neighbors who might have remembered her, have either passed on or are as lost and faded in time as Pinky herself.

Searching with her true last name, I got dozens of Pinky "Jones" hits throughout the country. Most of these were eliminated next by age and geographic history. The files with pictures were examined more for their eyes and facial structure than by hair color, which women tend to change. Another possible change that complicates this search is, any woman as good looking as Pinky was, in all probability would have gone through at least one name-change via marriage. With only a nickname and a maiden name to go on, both subject to change... I was chasing a ghost.

Not desperate but quite frustrated, by e-mail I very gently and cautiously contacted the one woman who was the closest thing to a long-shot and by now, I needed something to show for my efforts. Though I had no true hope, I had to do this. Despite my lack of confidence, I knew that in order to fail, I first had to try.

To my surprise, the woman responded within a day and was quite open and friendly and in only two exchanges I learned enough to know that she could not be my Pinky. Interestingly enough, she said Pinky was her stage name as she was "a dancer" and would never use her real name in that arena. She answered because she thought I was someone "in the business". Nope. She was a nice lady but I didn't need a lap dance.

Another dead end but now I had to consider that my Pinky could have easily dropped her childhood nickname as she matured. Of course I have no idea how her life evolved or what career-path she might have chosen, but in my experience, no professional or executive could go by "Pinky" with any credibility. Not unless she owned "Pinky's Pussycat Ranch" outside of Las Vegas somewhere.

and then,

2) "What would you say or do if you ever found her?"

I'm gonna dodge the "what would I say or do?" part, because that premise could only occur "if you ever found her", which I won't because I'm no longer looking. The telling of Pinky's Story made me reconsider my earlier thoughts of someday locating and contacting her. File this change under "maturity" because my present state of mind is to "leave well enough alone".

Consider: Despite any emotional investment she might have had in me, Pinky has lived her entire adult life without me in it. She is most likely to have a husband or partner, several children and extended family, and after nearly 30 years she is well set in her ways and her ways of life. I could never intrude or impose myself into this unsolicited. That would be a selfish and self-centered thing to do. No one has the need of, or deserves an uninvited, random neutron flying through their peaceful orbit to possibly strike something in their nucleus that can set off a chain-reaction that will make a very loud noise and break things.

No one deserves that.

I'm not saying her head would explode, but once upon a time, I was an unwitting curve ball in her life. Witting or not, I'll not be another.

Anonymous says:

3) "It's so sad that you can't remember Pinky's real name.

Tell me about it. For a long time I blamed myself for not knowing or remembering, but time heals all wounds. One fellow was kind enough to e-mail me yesterday with his perspective:

"I have been reading your blog for the hot sex stories but the part about you not knowing Pinky's real name woke up an old memory. I'm a Vietnam Veteran and I finally went to see The Wall in DC about 15 years ago. Besides being harder than I thought it would be, I was even sadder when I tried to look up my friends that are engraved on The Wall. I found four of them and made nice rubbings but two of my friends I could not find. Like Pinky did, these guys went by their nicknames. "Vinnie" because he was a tough Italian from Brooklyn and "Cowboy", for his strong Texas drawl. Just like you and Pinky, I only knew their nicknames. In fact I don't think I ever knew their real names so like your Pinky, I can't find them either. Sad as it may be, we can't change things but we both have our memories of them and that's at least something."

That was nice of him to write so gently. As a survivor, he was telling me to take "at least something" out of what I perceive is nothing. It was enlightening and also made me consider that while he was trying to help me process this, in his example, his loss was much worse than mine. Despite being shipped out and the disruption to her young life, Pinky went on to live somewhere else. Despite being shipped out and the disruption to their young lives, his friends went on The Wall.

Damn.

Thanks for your service and your perspective, VV. [sniff]

Anon then asks:

4) It's been such a long time and you certainly won't get in trouble any longer, isn't there someone you can ask?"

See #1.

Snappy retort aside, a newer part of the problem is the fact that it has been such a long time. Besides people passing on and memories fading, there were very few people to check with in the first place. Except during baby-sitter deliveries, there was little interaction between our families. We lived in different neighborhoods, went to different schools and I knew none of her friends. I once thought of searching online for her class yearbook in the event I could find her picture and real name, but this hope was quickly dashed when I foolishly realized I didn't even know the name of her high school.

Agelessgoodguy put forth the question and observation:

5) "What would happen if Pinky were to contact you and Cindy through this blog?"

As unlikely as this would be, you might be surprised to learn that Cindy and I have already discussed this near-impossibility (Cindy is really into this story, believe me). If Pinky were ever to reach out and contact me, our unified answer would be for me to respond to her. I've already stated that I would never intrude upon her in any way, but if I ever heard from her, I would be very open and receptive, willing to learn of her and her life all the way up to maybe even seeing her again... however farfetched this concept might be.

He then added, "Now there's a story or two in that one (grinning at the thought)".

Naughty, naughty, Ageless. You've obviously been cruising sex blogs too long. Why... we don't even know if or where that wonderful creature exists and you'd have the three of us in bed?

Tsk... tsk... tsk...
(but I like the way you think)

OK, I'm out of Pinky questions.

More "Ask Mike" in a few days... sexy questions next time.

Ask more questions.

It's grist for the mill and the mill always needs more grist.

Valentine's Day

2011-02-14T10:49:00.000-08:00

Not much to say today except maybe this...

Yeah, just a bit.

Our Missing Sex Tapes

2011-02-08T08:11:00.000-08:00

Film at Eleven

The other night we were laying around after playing around and the subject of picture-taking and movie-making came up. Suzy thought our last session was epic and said it should have been filmed. Everyone lazily agreed and we began trying to figure out when we lost our keen interest in taking pictures.

Early in our swinging days, everyone in our local group was very into shooting pictures and movies. So much so that it was common for several of the movies that were filmed during the previous party, would be running on several TV's during the new party. Quite literally, we could be titillated by our own porn movies.

We never did decide why we eventually lost interest in picture-taking but the talk soon segued into questions like, "I wonder where all those tapes are?" After some thought, I guessed that if we have any of them, they're probably still packed away in a box somewhere from our move west. Joe and Suzy reasoned the same.

Despite the 3-hour time difference (about midnight in NY), the girls' curiosity was piqued and they made a few phone calls and amid lots of covered mouths and giggled speculation, no one seemed to know what happened to them. That sparked a lot of laughter and several, "OMG, what ifs...?", especially from those who are now parents and now must urgently consider, "Yeah... where the heck are all those tapes?"

Almost no one seemed to know or have any idea. Out of the four couples the girls called, only three tapes were accounted for. Hmmm, not so good... there are dozens of them.

I'm not overly concerned because the "missing" movies aren't really missing, they're just misplaced amongst friends no longer interested in them. Even so, when the girls got off the phone, I joked that in this day and age, I knew how I could locate every single one of the missing sex tapes within 24 hours...

... just announce that I am running for public office.

They'd all be on U-Tube by midnight.

Pinky's Story - Epilogue

2011-02-01T17:08:00.000-08:00

I Guess I'll Never Know

Thanks for the kind comments and even more through e-mails regarding Pinky's Story. While I'm not certain that my last post is my "best so far", as has been expressed, but it certainly was the most difficult one for me to recall and write about.

Initially, the concept of relating Pinky's Story was fun and exciting but as I wrote my way towards the tragic ending, I began having difficulty formulating the transition from our last night of forbidden bliss, to her sudden departure. The easiest for me, but a disappointment to readers was forgoing all the juicy, wet details of our last night. Done properly, that night alone could have taken several more chapters. These would have been sexy and exciting to be sure, but by the 10th chapter, I had re-entered that time again and began sliding back into little Mikey's heartbreaking sadness again. Selfishly-speaking, I just couldn't bring myself to write about our splendid last night together. I hope you understand.

This story has stirred a few people... Cindy in particular. This woman loves me and everything about me, including my past history and because she is Cindy, in her own way she has come to love Pinky too. She made a very rare post from Cindy on Pinky's Story early on and she now has tentative plans to write another, expressing her own thoughts and feelings at learning the entire story and the unhappy ending. Maybe we'll see something from her soon.

Yeah... little Mikey was sad for some time. Big Mike is still sad, although the intensity and sensitivity has waned over the years but even tempered by time and maturity, there is still a dull ache sometimes. Right now it's temporarily larger than a dull ache from these recollections. Most of the feelings I experienced back then came from feeling so incredibly alone, but my love for Pinky loomed larger than I was and I was heartbroken. Not only because I loved and missed her, but not ever knowing what happened to her made it so much worse... and I guess I'll never know.

I didn't know what Pinky's parents knew or thought they knew and always wondered how they would treat her in the future. Pinky's parents were nice and seemed fair, but as a kid, totally not understanding their Draconian reaction, I had natural concerns of the possible repercussions or punishment she might face. I mean, c'mon... they had moved away! What else will they do? Were they mad at her? Will they treat her badly? (After all... "because of her", they "had" to move away, a life-changing event).

Yeah... a life-changing event. No kidding. Think about poor Pinky. As sad as I might make it sound, I only lost my Pinky. Whatever I meant to her, Pinky lost me and her friends, her room, her neighborhood, her school, her whole fucking way of life. I knew exactly how alone I felt. The mere thought of poor Pinky's isolation was crushing. Sigh...

Even today, I've never learned what her parents found in her room. Her girlfriend's dirty magazine? A condom? Pinky had made it clear from the beginning that she wanted to learn about sex with me so she would know better when she dated older boys, but also said, "they would have to wear condoms". I guess it is possible that Pinky had progressed to this stage or was preparing for it. Short of a diary or journal (which she didn't keep), something like a condom is the only thing I can think of that could prove to be so damning.

Before closing, if in the last two entries I have seemed uhm... excessive in any way, it's because this story runs much deeper for me than has been revealed. Let me do this now.

At the time of Pinky's departure, I wasn't quite sure of what my parents meant when they spoke of Pinky "getting in boy-trouble". Initially I thought this meant that she was just too young for boys and "got in trouble", but I soon learned that Pinky's parents suspected she was sexually active. Oh... so that's "boy-trouble".

A few months later I was struck with even more anguish when I learned from someone at school that "boy-trouble" could also mean that a girl was pregnant! Pregnant?

OMG, Pinky... you said I couldn't do that yet!

Could Pinky have been pregnant? I never came to know one way or the other. Looking back, I had no concept of what a teen-pregnancy could mean then and it only deepened my chasm of mystery and loss. Even today, conjuring up the darkest "what-if's?" are upsetting. If Pinky really had been pregnant, was she allowed to deliver the child? Keep it? Had there been a child, could this child possibly be mine... a child of a child? If there was a child, but not mine, then who's? Had Pinky decided that she had learned enough with me and had been seeing older boys? (which was her plan all along). If she had, it had to have been the same week she was "caught".

I guess I'll never know. I guess I'll never know a lot of things. Things like... How is she? Is she happy? Was she happy? Was there a baby? How did her parents treat her? Where did you go? Did you find love? Are you loved? Are you happy? A million questions go unanswered. Things like... however slight the chance, could I possibly be a father with a child somewhere in the world?

I guess I'll never know.

Pinky's Story - Pt 12

2011-01-25T15:14:00.000-08:00

Click here to go to the last chapter.

Click here to go to the beginning.

Where No One Can Hear You Scream

I'll not keep you in suspense waiting for the next torrid chapter of Pinky's Story any longer as there will not be one. Not a torrid one anyway. In fact, you're probably not going to like this post much at all... this, the last installment of Pinky's Story. That's ok... I don't care much for the way the story ended either. Even after all these years, I've only recently learned that it wasn't easy to recall or recount.

At the close of the last chapter, Pinky's Story seemed to have ample story and substantial momentum to carry it for some time. Unfortunately, the original Pinky's Story ended abruptly and unexpectedly, as you will soon learn. That's not to say that Pinky's Story didn't continue. I'm sure it did and I hope she flourished, but it went on without me. Even though the story was still developing (who knows how much farther it might have gone?), it was the substantial momentum that Pinky's Story had assumed, that made its ending so much more difficult for me, and I expect Pinky as well.

After the long night of Pinky's magical "baby-sitting", there is little story to tell. Oh most certainly, there was the long, unforgettable night together, of which you've read only the beginning. Although Pinky's Story has some very unique emotional and romantic overtones that a few might like to follow, there are no sexual elements within it that are any different than what I've already described in varying degrees in over 400 previous posts.

Obviously, it would be the emotional dynamics of that evening that would make for a good telling, but I choose to forego these details. With a slight peek for my voyeuristic audience, you'll be pleased to know that on this night, Pinky and I were both Superhuman. We did all of the things we had done previously and many more that we hadn't. Some things we did we thought we invented. With eyes bright and wide, together we explored, we sought, we soared, we swooped, we dived, we looped, we burned through space and time at light-speed, clinging desperately to each other with fingertips white, lest we lose each other, the entire universe a blurry smear as it streaked around us.

Insatiable in youth, unquenchable in lust, we alternately wrestled and made love until dawn without a rest or a single thought than of the other. There were no time constraints, no parents, no homework, no hurry, only this exciting, ecstatic, euphoric state of incredible bliss and happiness.

Much, much later we cuddled entwined, drifting away sleepily in fluffy clouds of warm pink afterglow, twitchy muscles and exhaustion until the first faint shafts of sunlight began softly illuminating the slow moving dust motes floating through them. Only then did we realize it was daytime and that our temporary insanity was temporary and with its departure, thoughts of parents and protocols and expectations and responsibilities began returning and, Holy shit... we've got a lot to do!

Yes we did have a lot to do. The room and bedding were a disaster! It's a good thing we never left it, as one impact-area was enough! Our clothes were strewn everywhere, as were towels and washcloths we had summoned and retrieved along the way. My bed was wet in several places. Every inch of the floor and every piece of furniture had been used, moved, tipped and disturbed. Throw rugs, pillows, cushions, doilies, all had been disrupted and in the light of our new-morning paranoia, all had to be corrected.

Satisfied after triple-checking my bedroom and the bathroom, we ran downstairs and had a quick toast and jelly to leave a small breakfast mess. We then set up a partially-played Parchesi game for further authenticity. An incoming phone call on the kitchen phone a little after 9 o'clock jangled our nerves, but it was my dad checking in with Pinky, saying they would be leaving soon.

Upon learning we had more than an hour of safety before they returned, Pinky got that look again and said, "Ya wanna be naughty one more time?"

Of course I did, and we did... both blissfully unaware of her unknowingly prophetic, "one more time", part of it. You see... that was our last time being naughty together. That was our last time being anything together. That was the last time I ever saw her.

Well, not exactly. That occurred a few hours later as she cheerily waved goodbye to me from the back seat of her dad's car... never to be seen by me again.

"WTF?" you ask.

The story that filtered to me back then and more later over time, was that later in the week, Pinky's parents had, "found something in Pinky's room", that led them to investigate further. After questioning Pinky and several of her girlfriends, her parents had concluded that Pinky was, "Either having sex with someone at school, or was planning to have sex with someone at school". I mentioned I got only "filtered" information because I was not yet twelve and my parents didn't speak openly of everything they knew, especially in a sexual situation.

"Jeeze, Mike...WTF happened?"

OK... the following scenario may sound archaic today, but once upon a time in a galaxy far, far away, there was a time, a class, and a culture called, "middle-class suburbia". It's always there, but it changes with the times and at the time of Pinky's Story, within the structure or culture of what I've just described, it often happened that upon learning of some, "shocking event", within their family, parents would quickly request a corporate transfer, sell their house and move away from whatever temptation their errant child may have encountered... as they did in Pinky's case.

Yep... in thirty days Pinky and her family were gone! Smoke. Vapor. They moved away before their house was sold... and took My Pinky with them.

My parents explained very little of what happened except Pinky and her parents had moved to take a new job. What little I knew was overheard, as this subject was talked around me, much of it in adult "code". They never once questioned me about Pinky or if I had any knowledge of her alleged, "goings-on with older boys". I was somehow above suspicion because I was obviously "too young" to know of such things, but because she was older, they were both upset with and for Pinky because, "She should have known better than to get in boy-trouble." They were also disappointed at losing Pinky as a babysitter and her parents as local friends.

Uhh... sorry for your inconvenience,
but I was fucking devastated.

I had no idea what was going on... with me, with Pinky, with the whole fucked-up, upside-down Bizzaro world of adults. What the fuck? Where is she? What's she doing? Why can't I talk to her? Why'd you do this? Why is this happening? I don't fucking understand! You don't understand! No one understands! And even if they could understand, I couldn't tell them!

I was suddenly all alone. More alone than I can possibly describe, even now as an adult. I was in the unique position where even if I had the courage, I couldn't speak of this with anyone or safely ask even timid questions. "Where'd Pinky go?" "How come?" "Why can't I see her?" "Who will help me find her?" "Who can I talk to?"

Authorities? No, they were tough and scary and out of the question. Parents? No, they had already proven much too reactionary. Friends? Yeah, sure. I had lots of friends... or maybe I used to. They had all changed so much lately... gone strange. They seemed so dumb lately. Loud, squirrely dorks who couldn't decide whether to tip someone's schoolbooks from under their arm in the hallway or give a friend a wedgie. Naw... no friends either. Where is Pinky? Where is everybody?

Pinky... where are you? You're the only one I can talk to! You're the only one I want to talk to! You're the only one who can hear me right now, please come back! Pinky, I love you! Can you hear me? Pinky, I'm shouting so you can hear me. I'm shouting it aloud so everyone can hear me... I LOVE YOU! PLEASE COME BACK!

Pinky, it's Mikey... a boy. Everything is so weird now. I don't know if you can hear me or not. I don't know where you went and I don't know why. I don't know if you love me like I love you. I don't know if you miss me like I miss you. I don't know if you feel as alone as I do now. If you do, that makes me very, very sad because that means that you love me too. But really... I hope you don't, because there's no sense in both of us crying all of the time.

Pinky, it's Mike... the man. Everything is ok now. I don't know if you can hear me or not. I still don't know where you went, but I think I know why you were taken. So much that happened to us was so wrong... I just hope you're ok too. I only know that you briefly took me soaring so high, you took me where the air was so thin, that when you left, no one could hear me scream.

However, my Dearest, Darling Pinky... you absolutely must know this:

It was you who took me soaring,

It was circumstance that made me scream.

I can only hope that you went on to soar even higher than I did,

and if circumstance ever caused you to scream,
I hope it was less than I did.

Pinky, I'll always love you and I'll always miss you.

That's my Pinky Promise.

Fancy Hotel

2011-01-24T10:11:00.000-08:00

Up late... inner time-clock still off. Got back late on Friday night from a trip to Frankfurt last week. Not bad. Unseasonably warm for this time of year... mid-thirties, nothing like the zero-and-below temps that were going around the midwest in the U.S. last week.

Got to stay at my favorite hotel in that area, The Kempinski Frankfurt Gravenbruch, an old world, but upgraded, 5-star hotel nearly hidden in the forest only 15 km from the airport.

Kempinski Gravenbruch

It was the fourth time I've stayed there and while it's plush and has ambience, it's not pretentious or overdone. During my stays, I've learned that several American presidents and other world leaders have stayed there often. The hotel's in-room, coffee-table book had scores of pictures of celebrity guests like John Kennedy, Bill Clinton, Robert De Niro, Michael Jackson, Madonna, Michael Schumacher, Enzo Ferrari and similar society folk, while cigar aficionados like Bill Cosby, Sharon Stone, Michael Douglas, Arnold, George Hamilton, Harrison Ford, et al, have their autographed pictures on the walls of the plush leather-and-wood cigar club and huge walk-in humidor. La tee da.

Cigar club

I had no idea of the history of the hotel, nor of its previous guests but then I don't stay at 5-star hotels very often either.

Part of the lobby

Having just recently gone through European airport security only reminds me of just how poor and disjointed American airport security is, often creating security issues that didn't previously exist, but I digress. Here is an amusing matrix that demonstrates the skill levels required for different jobs in America.

Go figure

OK... enough chit-chat. Bringing things back to current events, I'm scheduled to be in town all this week so I should have more time to polish the next chapter's draft of Pinky's Story. The next chapter progresses rapidly and gets complicated quickly and nearly thirty years later, is proving difficult to recall and write about accurately and without undue clouds of emotion to shadow the story. When you read it, you'll understand better (but only if I'm a good enough writer).

Pinky's Story - Pt 11

2011-01-14T19:06:00.000-08:00

Click here to go to the last chapter.

Click here to go to the beginning.

The Journey Resumes

After last Saturday night, the wait to see Pinky again was absolute torture! I was in every sense of the word, lovesick. I totally pined for her, my every thought was of loving her, worshiping her, fucking her. Mentally wrapped up in all this, I was one fucked up kid. Not fucked up like in bad, but I was spun... unable to think of anything except Pinky and what the world is like when we're together.

Normally a very timely, attentive and nearly straight-A student, I managed to be scolded twice that week for daydreaming and being inattentive in class. By Friday, I was also admonished for being unprepared and was asked to stay after class to be privately asked with genuine concern, "Are you alright?"

Yeah, I was, but I was also totally spun. But that's ok... it's Friday... I had made it to Friday!

I was happy it was Friday because with the success of the play in Manhattan last Saturday, by Wednesday my parents had announced they would need a similar overnight sitting arrangement as the last one, this coming Saturday night. OMG... yes! Mom, Dad... please be assured that Pinky and I would try very hard to arrange a, "similar overnight sitting arrangement". That night I went from beating my meat because I missed fucking Pinky, to beating my meat because I was going to get to.

Finally, Saturday morning came, but even then it took another week for it to become Saturday afternoon. I don't know what ached more... my cock or my heart. Finally, a polite tap on the horn in the driveway jangled me out of my fog and I ran outside where she was stepping from the back seat of her family car. OMG... she's so beautiful!

The first minutes of our reunion was impossibly difficult. Remember... both of us had blissfully surrendered our virginity to each other last week and we wanted nothing more than to hug and embrace and kiss and nibble and whisper along with all of the wonderful things new lovers discover, but being in full view of our chatting and otherwise distracted and preoccupied parents, Pinky and I were forced to casually carry her backpack and sleeping bag from the car to the house.

I was so changed and new to this, I didn't know how to think or act. I remember feeling like I was holding my breath. Perhaps I was. I was so flipped out at seeing her, I couldn't have faked a conversation with her in front of her parents if my life depended upon it. Perhaps she felt this way too because we carried her overnight items into the house, both of us in uncharacteristic order and silence.

Fortunately, our parents didn't notice our stilted departure as they continued to chat in the driveway for a few minutes. As soon as we reached the safety of the kitchen, Pinky and I dropped everything to the floor as we resumed our mating ritual and rushed to kiss. At first it was soft and tender and a flush of warm comfort coursed through me, but in seconds our kiss evolved into an urgent and needy one until the warmth turned to heat and in minutes I was hard and she was wet and we were both breathless. We broke this intimate and passionate connection only because her dad's very-fortunate, departing horn-honk scared the shit out of us.

However startled we may have been, both of us just stood there, stunned and surprised at the potency of our kiss. We had kissed many times before today and while they were always exhilarating and arousing, they seemed like nothing like the one just now. This one was different, deeper, more intimate, more arousing. This was no longer children kissing... this was the kiss of lovers.

Wow! I was dizzy and my head felt thick and full and sounds seemed muted and my heart was thumping loudly in my chest. That brief taste, that electric-blue spark, that forbidden promise of more made it even more difficult to maintain any sort of protocol or reserve in front of my parents when they returned.

Unlike other times when Pinky and I would casually set up the Parchesi board in the kitchen before my parents left... unlike the last time when Pinky cautiously made us wave out the window then return to the game in case somebody came back suddenly... unlike my Pinky who had previously been so wise and so cautious. This time, as soon as we heard their car start, she grabbed me by the hand and led me up the stairs where worlds collide.

Not totally without caution, however. Pinky ran to the front of the house to look out the window and make sure the driveway was empty. She came into my room with wide, wild eyes and she quickly began shedding her clothes. I did the same, both of us watching the other. In seconds we were both gloriously nude and pressed tightly against each other, tongues dancing, fingers searching.

Despite our inexperience, we had both learned that I would last much longer (10 whole minutes?) my second time, so with an unspoken understanding she would do me first, Pinky sank to her knees and after shaking her red hair back, she looked up at me and enveloped the throbbing head of my cock with her warm, pink mouth. Oh, Pink.

It's hard to say who enjoyed this act more because she would get so totally into it. I'm absolutely certain she went on to make every boyfriend and husband quite happy. We had not experimented with 69 yet or I could have returned the favor, but a returned favor was not necessary as Pinky was on a mission.

In the course of our explorations, she had made me cum about a dozen times in various ways and had learned the approaching physical signs or signals of my imminent ejaculation. It didn't take long for her fervent oral attention to my cock to begin sending us both signals and I had to pull away to stop her.

"What's wrong? You were so close." she protested breathily.

"I know I was. I just want to lay down so I won't fall down." and dropped to the floor on my back, my cock throbbing to my heartbeat above my stomach. Pinky eagerly followed me down and without another word, devoured me again in her pink wetness. With no pillow or cushion handy, I folded my arms behind my neck to prop my head up to watch my Pinky happily enjoy my pink, stiff penis until she would extract and share my semen with me once again. Oh Pinky... this had become so much fun!

Bending over me at an angle, she slowly sucked me deep in her mouth while moaning deep in her throat, the low frequency vibrations pushing me even higher. While leaning over to suck my cock, she rocked her shoulders slowly back and forth, causing her heavy breasts to drag across my my own, causing both our nipples to harden. Just like Pinky's, my nipples were hot-wired to my groin and both of them felt almost electric. Her hard, large nipples tickled my hard, small nipples and it felt like hot blue sparks came from them as they danced lazily across my receptive skin.

Looking me deliberately in the eyes as if challenging me to accept this, or maybe even questioning me if she was being bad enough, she slowly pulled her mouth almost all the way off my erection. I watched as her wet lips and tongue slavered my throbbing crown. It was exhilarating to watch, but I liked it better when her lips parted wetly and she enveloped my hardness again. Oh, Pinky!

This is not Pinky and me, but it works

This slow-mo-show didn't last long as Pinky was as horny as I was and anxious to proceed to the next round, but she first had to finish the one she started. She soon became more aggressive in her quest for cum and I was in total cum-pliance in allowing her achieve it.

Although she had done this to me only three or four times before, Pinky considered herself an expert cock sucker. So did I. If she lacked anything in skill or experience, she didn't lack in determination and she was determined to drain my young, and fast-filling balls. She alternated between nearly deep-throating me while making wet, gagging noises, then making short, up-and-down, "bunny-fucking" motions, her parted lips "bump-bumping" over the flared, pink crown of my cock each time. Oh, Pinky!

Pinky was oblivious to my imaginary thoughts. She was lost in her own. Her eyes were closed (more like rolled back in her head) and she was making small grunts and groans every few seconds... short animal sounds along with breathy, wet, sucking, spit noises.

"Pink...", I gently warned, feeling my body approach the next, undeniable phase.

"Mmmp, humph", she managed to acknowledge with a nod, already aware of my phases, however swiftly I reached them. She knew I was getting close and she would not be denied a second time. From the magic her mouth was making on my cock, neither would I. By this time I was propped up on my elbows, watching Pinky's head furiously bob up and down my glass-hard cock. Her eyes were closed in concentration and thin wisps of her red hair were sticking to her dampening brow. OMG... I'm gonna blow the back of her head off!

"Pink... I'm gonna cum", I warned again as the image of my sweet Pinky sucking on my cock like a whore I had never met, nor could yet imagine, blew my mind, my cock and my load. A copious load, I might add, having been teased so close to cumming earlier. Just as the first orgasmic spurt of semen left my cock, I groaned, "Oh, Pink... uhhh... uhhh... uhhh...". The first hot, hard jet of sperm shot so hard against the back of her throat, she physically jumped and "Mmmphed" in surprise, but she gamely went on to suck my balls dry.

I came and came and came... evidently with no indication that I had been beating off at least three times a day. I vaguely remember Pinky groaning on my cock each time I spurted in her mouth. It was like each gooey spurt made her moan in appreciation. She kept this up until my balls were empty and her mouth was full (actually a lot had escaped and run down my cock, but she would later lick and slurp all of the wonderful mess). When I stopped, my entire body felt like it had been forced through my cock and was now contained in Pinky's cum-filled mouth.

I'm not certain what happened for several seconds, but before my dick could think about softening, Pinky swung one of her legs across my hips, straddling me. She mounted my prone form facing me and for the first time, she sat astride my hips cowgirl-style, like some of the pictures we saw in her friend's dirty magazine. She guided me into her liquid heat and impaled herself on my still leaking cock with a groan of satisfaction.

I was still half out of it and surprised at her move, but she was on fire, sopping wet and would not wait for me to recover. To insure I'd remain hard, she leaned forward and pressed her open mouth against mine. Warm, salty semen oozed into my mouth, as our tongues swirled and danced in this slippery, slimy goo. For me, wet kisses alone are good enough to insure a fast recovery, but this kiss... this new-lovers kiss... this cummy, slimy, starchy kiss was so nasty, I immediately regained what little hardness I may have lost and began instinctually thrusting my cock deep into her voluptuous body.

Jump to Pt-12

"Promises, promises"

2011-01-10T15:00:00.000-08:00

"Come take a bath with me", said my bride as she headed upstairs. I smiled, knowing what she really had in mind... that she was "in the mood" and she just wanted me to help her "cum clean" and enjoy a long session of lovemaking and pleasuring each other.

It was about seven in the evening and I was in my home office finishing up one of my least favorite forms of paperwork – my expense account. Grateful for her distraction I said, "I'll be up in a minute, but you can start without me", I said with a wink, knowing that she most likely would. I was saving my expense files when I heard the running water stop and went upstairs.

As I entered our master bath, it smelled of almond bath oil and scented candles. The air in the room was already warm and humid from the steamy hot water. Cindy was laying in the chaise-part of our custom tub with her eyes closed, relaxing, her head resting on a thick, folded towel – the familiar vision of her svelte body hidden from me by mounds of fragrant, floating bubbles. The soft glow from vanilla scented candles added to the warm ambiance as I began to undress.

Behind her head on the large, tiled sitting-shelf at the end of our large oval bathtub, she had gathered all the accessories we would be needing during our bath ritual – body wash, a large loofah, fingernail brush, pumice stone, shaving gel, a new razor and her waterproof purple wand.

"I thought you were gonna start without me?", I asked as I shed my clothes.

"Mmm... I was," she said dreamily, "but the water felt so good I'm just relaxing.", she replied without opening her eyes.

I had shaved in the shower that morning, but for the sake of her smooth pussy, I began to shave again in the sink. Before I was half done, I briefly heard the familiar buzz of her toy behind me before it was silenced beneath the water and the bubbles. Mmm... she did start without me. I looked at her in the mirror but couldn't see anything but bubbles. As I rinsed the lather from my face and neck, I heard her making soft moaning noises and by the time I began to ease my foot into the almost-too-hot water, she had stopped playing, switched it off and set it on the edge of the tub.

"What's the matter?", I asked.

"Mmm... I was going to cum way too fast.", she exhaled more than replied.

"So? So cum fast, then cum again.", I smiled, knowing she could.

"I'm for a long build-up this time," she answered as she stood up to make more room for me. "but I have to get out... it's too hot.", she said as she eased up out of the water and sat on a towel on the tiled sitting-shelf with a, "Whew!" Her skin was bright pink, her forehead was damp and her face was flushed.

The water was too hot, but I wasn't going to add any cold water as it would soon be cooling while we played. Kneeling between her legs, I squirted a line of blue-green shave-gel starting at her ankles and ending at her hip-bones. With both hands, I churned these thick, gelatin streaks into creamy, white foam. Taking a fresh razor (always) I shaved her tan body completely smooth from the tops of her pretty toes, to her slender waist and everything in between. My lips and tongue sought out any spots I might have missed before my professional inspection was deemed closed. After that, I eagerly kissed and lapped at her very wet pussy, most unprofessionally, bringing her close to an orgasm several times before stopping.

By this time, the water had cooled somewhat and she slid back in with a sigh. I moved to the sitting shelf and watched as she resumed her play with her toy and she watched me as I shaved everything my boxer shorts cover – essentially, everything between my tan lines. I rinsed and then "polished" the job by shaving again with one of her cream rinses. Now that's smooth. By the time I was completely smooth and slid back into the water to rinse, the bubbles were almost gone and Cindy had toyed herself to the first of many orgasms.

"I thought you wanted a long build-up?" I teased.

"So I'm a slut. C'mere."

Our fingers and tongues found their way everywhere, both in the tub and while taking turns on the shelf. During this time, I drained some of the cooling water and refilled it with hot water twice until we were both fairly waterlogged and had "raisin" fingers and toes.

We dried each other with big fluffy towels and were both aware of how bright pink our skin was from the too-hot water. I had initially planned to trim and paint her toenails, but in all of the rubbing and scrubbing, something rather insistent had come up that caught her eye and she dropped her towel to grasp it. Being "towed" by my cock, I was forced to follow as she backed up until her butt pressed against the counter. She then leaned back and spread her legs.

Standing between her baby-smooth slender legs, my erect cock was at the near-perfect angle to enter her slick wetness without guidance. I entered her slowly and we both sighed a long "Ahhh..." coinciding with my long, slow plunge. We hugged as our smooth pubes met and we welcomed our long-familiar and perfect fit. I don't know about anyone else, but no matter who my partner is or how many times we've fucked previously, there's still nothing quite like that first, long, slow slide home. Mmm... yes.

After a few minutes of getting everything wet with nice, deep plunges, we began a long, slow grind. She leaned back on her arms, her lithe body balancing on the edge of the counter, with my rigid cock seemingly holding her up off the floor. This allowed her to alternate the position of her legs - sometimes locked around my waist, sometimes dangling at my sides as we both warmed to the dance.

She eventually scooted all the way atop the counter and leaned back against the mirror. Holding her ankles, I could position her slender legs in any position I wanted and in the course of the next thirty minutes, had them held spread in every position possible. I then let her go to allow her to place her feet first on my hip bones, then after a while up on my chest and then up to my face, with me kissing, nibbling and biting at the tender pink shrimp of her her delicately curled toes. I eagerly watched the plunging shaft of my rigid cock spread her pink flower open and I could see the shiny flared head of my cock as it passed in and out of her inflamed opening. With her hips tipped the way they were, my cock head scrubbed away at her spongy, G-spot with every stroke.

"OMG... ", she breathed suddenly. "You're gonna make me cum!" (Like this was a surprise? You mean you didn't know this might occur?)

"You want me to stop?", I joked.

"Not for a week.", she ordered, ignoring my lame attempt at humor.

"OK... it's your death", I cautioned her.

"Promises, promises", she dismissed me.

She was right, as usual. Try as I might, I failed to bring about her death. I did however make her glad she was alive, because in just a few hard strokes later, my cock-scrubbing of her G-spot paid off as she made a long slow groan and shudder, and I first heard, then felt her warm squirt on me. That's my girl.

When this happens, she doesn't jerk or spasm but instead her body goes almost stiff and rigid, and her movements are slow, rolling motions made more-or-less with her entire body. When she squirts, it's usually only for several seconds at the beginning of each wave. A wave can last from 30 seconds to nearly 2 minutes and she is totally, 100% orgasmically, out of it. To say that I love to watch her like this is an understatement. The best part about this is, when everything is just right, we can sometimes string several of these long, "slow-rollers" in a row.

By "just right", I'm talking everything... besides her mood and arousal, if her body and position are comfortable and she can give everything up, we can catch the wave. We did.

The second wave (when we can catch it) comes maybe thirty seconds after the first and despite the strength and power of the first one, she looks forward to the ones that follow as they get progressively stronger and closer together until eventually she is consumed and can endure no more.

On this evening, I managed to prevail and kept my promise. I take no great credit for this... especially considering I've had nearly twenty years of practice. Naw... she was anxious to cum long before we started and almost everyone cums easier when in that frame of mind.

During this session, I had the immense pleasure of watching my wife gamely ride 5 or 6 separate and progressively longer waves of orgasmic pleasure until they blended and peaked and continued as one. I soaked in this view for several minutes, more aroused and excited for Cindy than for myself – similar to what I experience when I watch her with Joe or anyone else. At the moment, I didn't want to cum... not for a long time. I just wanted to enjoy watching Cindy so lost in the throes of passion.

Cindy has seldom used our "safe-word"... the one we used to have when we partied more. It's as simple and straightforward as we are. Our safe-word has always simply been, "Stop". Most times I don't think "stop" is in Cindy's vocabulary and even though she didn't say it or tell me to stop, after taking several more minutes of selfishly watching her zone out, I did.

Well, I didn't actually stop... that would have been just plain rude! Instead, I slowed a bit and more importantly, I changed the angle of my penetration to miss her now-inflamed and hair-trigger G-spot. As soon as I did this, her lithe body began to lose some of it's tautness and her limbs began to show signs of having joints again. She also stopped making the long, straining sound she was making and this gave way to irregular gasps for air as the single, long wave began separating into smaller ones and gradually became farther and farther apart, These were still-strong, cyclic waves of pleasure, but nothing like the paralyzing spasms she had just experienced.

As her slender legs gradually became more flexible, I slowly began easing them down, allowing more blood to re-enter and warm them. This small act was gratefully received as she sighed aloud, in between more-regular gasps of air along with small moans and groans as she became semi-aware of her own orgasmic behavior. I could only smile as I looked down on her disheveled and destroyed appearance. She looked so relaxed... so satiated... so properly fucked.

I also noticed that during her throes of passion, she had knocked over several bottles of perfume, creams and girl-stuff that sit on her side of our double pullman. In addition, my side of the wall mirror was a mess, a combination of smears from her wet hair and bath oil from her shoulders and back. "Collateral damage" I chuckled. Cute actually. I'll leave it for her to discover in the morning.

"Mmmm..." she finally sighed and slowly squirmed her hips around my still-buried and throbbing cock. "You killed me.", she smiled but then groaned in discomfort as she tried to move her legs.

"As promised." I replied.

"Ow! Ow! Ow!", she yiked suddenly and drew her legs back up with a sigh of relief. "Promised? Oh yeah, "Promises, promises". Yes, I vaguely recall your reckless boast", she teased.

"'Reckless boast'? M'lady... you cut me to the quick! While your needs are quite legendary and well known throughout the shire by seemingly everyone but your husband, you have been bathed like a queen, ravished like a whore and have been made to spend many times soaking you, me, the bed and the floor. Not once during this time did I hear mention of a 'reckless boast'."

Still impaled on my hardness, she smiled, leaned forward and kissed me. She then said, "OK, Lancelot... you're really cute with your Renaissance Fair indignance, but if you truly wish to be noble, then help me stand up... my legs are asleep."

After a few seconds, I slowly and reluctantly withdrew my friction-reddened dick from her very red and ruined pussy. We both groaned at our uncoupling. The voyeur in me compelled me to look down at where we had been joined. My red cock was shiny and fully erect and bobbing gently up and down to my heartbeat. Her hairless pussy's inner and outer lips were engorged and swollen and in the absence of my cock, her vagina remained open nearly the diameter of a quarter as it slowly began closing. Mmm... sexy. The only thing missing from that view was a big thick puddle of sticky white cum nested in it. Yum.

With her arms over mine, I supported her weight as she eased her shapely butt off the edge of the counter and lowered her legs to the floor with mixed groans of soreness and relief. Once standing, I gently pulled her hair back, tilted her face up and kissed her luscious mouth while waiting for her tingling and numbness to subside. Her kisses never fail to harden my dick and she felt my still-erect cock press against her smooth stomach.

Recovering quickly, she reached down and said, "Hmm... what have we here?"

"M'lady, that is merely the brutal cudgel you have enjoyed so shamelessly this eve. It believe it has served you quite well. Do you forget so easily?"

"Not at all, M'lord", as she hefted and squeezed it as if testing for reliability. "Tis true... I must confess. With thine divine staff, I admit thou have properly rogered and satisfied me like my cuckold husband cannot. Fortunately, the dullard is away on King's business. Fair knave, would'st thou be good enough to stay the night so I may repay thee in kind?

Thinking she was cute for falling into my medieval banter, I picked up her slender body and as I carried her into our bedroom I merely said, "Promises, promises".

Happy New Year!

2010-12-31T11:21:00.000-08:00

Wow... Christmas has come and gone and it's New Years already. It's hard to believe that another year has slipped away. I think as we get older, time seems to pass quicker every year, quite unlike how slowly time seemed to pass when we were children. Amazing... I understand that all things must pass, but so quickly?

Along with things that pass, four blogs from My Bookshelf have been removed as they have ceased blogging. They were the long-running blogs of Dirty Thirties, Sexy PTA Mom, Mandy's Erotic Life and Watching My Wife. Don't know where they went or why... just know they will be missed.

Obviously I'm still at it, although admittedly slowing down. I simply don't have as much to write about anymore. For a while, instead of a running a questionnaire from the TMI Tuesday blog (also now defunct), I would answer questions sent in by readers interested in our lifestyle. Evidently, they've lost interest and I've lost that stimulus. Not bitching, just reporting.

Overall, the year of 2010 at Mike and Cindy's was a very good year and we're quite happy. Optimists usually are. Despite the roller coaster economy that has affected so many others, none in our group were laid off and in fact, two in our group received promotions and raises (although one will be transferred to Atlanta). We're all fortunate and thankful to have stable, steady employment. All of our friends and relatives on both coasts are healthy and whole, with fortunately no accidents, major illnesses or marital troubles among them. Like Sinatra once sang... "It was a very good year".

Before closing, I know it's too late for Christmas, but I like this picture and missed posting it last week. Interesting concept. It used to be "milk and cookies"...

Now it's, "milk and nookies??

To all of our friends and followers,
Happy New Year!

Maybe I'm The Pervert?

2010-12-28T16:42:00.000-08:00

This is a too-ironic follow-up to my musings in my last post concerning the hanging of four stockings on a two-stocking mantle.

Always sensitive to a possible indiscretion, the initial "alert" I had was the obvious implications of four, identical stockings embroidered with our names. This would logically mean they were all ordered together, like a family would and at a glance, one could think we were a family (of sorts). At least this would rule out that two of them were add-on "guest" stockings. Therefore, the logical conclusion would be; Joe and Suzy couldn't be guests... four people must live here. These were my thoughts at the time, however paranoid, but in the short time the stockings were to be up, I figured no one outside of our circle was likely to ever see them.

Our generic, first-year CA stockings, since replaced with personalized ones.

Around eleven on Christmas morning, we were pleasantly surprised by a charming group of carolers who sang the first verse of "Adeste Fideles" from our driveway (As a fallen Catholic, it was sung well and in proper Latin). Now then... guests at our door are unusual because where we live is quite rural and our lane and driveway are more than 100 yards off the main road. Because we are rather off-track and have few visitors outside of snail mail and occasional package delivery, I was surprised our secluded haven was found. I guess I'm saying you'd have to know where you wanted to go. Evidently, they did.

The carolers were a curious mix of mostly a dozen of the local high-school choir group, free-lancing over the holidays and having fun along with several of our middle-aged "next-door" neighbors. We don't coffee-klatch with this group, we merely share the same zip code, but several of the adults were at a mixer we had at Christmas two years prior and I strongly suspect that most or all of the adults present were parents of the teenagers. That's also how they knew where we lived.

Not expecting guests, the four of us were in various stages of our morning. Cindy was her usual perky self and flited around the house like a finch while Suzy was still slow and sleepy and was sipping her second coffee. All of us sported various versions of bed-heads and were unshowered and Joe and I were unshaven. Cindy had been wearing only cotton panties covered by an oversized tee-shirt/sleep shirt and she had to scramble into jeans before greeting them. Suzy was clad comically opposite... she was wearing the bright pink, foot-jammies she received from Cindy the night before as a spoof on her always-sexy lingerie and dress-up costume collection. Being a good sport, she put them on immediately and wound up falling asleep in them. Right now, with only her pretty head and hands exposed, Suzy looked like a large sleepy child.

Joe had on flannel pajama bottoms and no shirt and I was nude from bed, but had slipped on the new robe I got from Suzy, so we were reasonably presentable... at least for a Christmas morning. Joe slipped away to put a shirt on and on my way to put my jeans on, I quickly scanned the downstairs for lifestyle leftovers. Fortunately, no crazy shenanigans occurred the previous night (all four of us fell asleep in the den), so there were no toys or sexual debris strewn about or similar evidence of play.

Despite our new-morning appearance, we herded them all inside where with much chatter and laughter, they assembled again and sang "The Christmas Song" in the entrance hall while the Cindy and Suzy put on another pot of coffee, made spice tea and put out small pastries and Christmas cookies. Suzy was moving a little faster now and the carolers really got a kick out of her jammies.

The singers were great... romantic even. I mean the notion was romantic, not specifically the music. I guess I'm just a big softy because I was entranced not just by their splendid voices, but with their spirit. Great big smiles, sparkling eyes. They were just so happy to do this.... every verse was sung with a smile. I was touched. I mean, c'mon... who does this anymore? They couldn't have known if anyone was at home, yet they walked up our long driveway and began singing anyway. Wow. How Christmas can you get?

After some cookies and chit-chat, they said they had to go to several other houses but would sing one more song. Suzy wanted them to stand in front of the fireplace in the den for a quick cell phone picture. Facing the fireplace, one of the men was arranging the students for the song and picture and I noticed he did a long double-take at our stockings. I mean it was obvious. He continued to move the kids around, but he kept looking back at the stockings.

When everyone was finally assembled, he took his place and they began singing, while Suzy snapped a few pictures with promises to send them copies. When they were finished, everyone shook hands and hugged and said Merry Christmas and began filtering outside. I couldn't help but notice that the same fellow who had been distracted by the stockings was hanging back to look at them again. Going unnoticed by the others, as he read our names, he looked at each of us in turn. His brow was knitted in thought... of what I have no idea.

Being one of the last to leave, he gave each of us a curious look like he was trying to figure us out, while his facial expression declared he was still in deep thought. As he approached the door, I saw him cast a longing look at Suzy who is always pretty but she presently didn't look sexy at all in her foot-jammies, but I'm guessing what remained unseen and hidden from him was his likely attraction. Mine too.

As he walked past me and through the door, his brow and demeanor had relaxed. He winked and nodded at me as the tiniest, wry smile crossed his face... like he had just realized or knew something. Not like he really knew anything, how could he? Maybe more like he liked to think he knew something. Maybe he merely hoped he knew something? Maybe he just wasn't sure? Maybe his imagination had run completely away?

Maybe not.

Maybe he's pervert enough to deduce from our appearances, proximity and matched stockings that he knows all about us? Maybe he knows how nasty we can be? Maybe he knows how often we meet to exchange bodily fluids? Maybe he envisions the four of us in a naked, sweaty tangle of cum-filled and cum-smeared bodies? Maybe he'd like to join us? Maybe my imagination has run completely away?

Maybe I just like to think about what I'd like him to think about?

Maybe I'm the pervert and he's just a simple caroler, after all?

Maybe. That is the most logical and probable answer...

... but what if it turns out that he reads this?

"With Visions Of Sugar Plums..."

2010-12-24T12:47:00.000-08:00

Sorry... the "Merry Christmas" sign was supposed to sparkle, but obviously, none of my three tries were successful. So it remains un-animated and I remain as code-challenged as when I began blogging and I still have difficulty with the simplest of blog tasks or maintenance. Despite my grumping aloud at this, "Merry Christmas".

As for Christmas preparations... I'm done. Oh, some knick-knack or stocking-stuffer might jump off the shelf at me if I saw it, but I have absolutely no intention of venturing out again. OMG... today is both Christmas Eve and the last payday before Christmas! No thank you.

Earlier this week, six consecutive days of heavy rain thinned the crowds at the malls, so my shopping in the rain wasn't much worse than a couple of rainy trips to the car (although an umbrella was absolutely necessary!). Even parking was easy, finding a spot on only my second row. Except for random, peripheral stuff, all my main shopping was completed in less than two days. The huge press of shoppers (forget about parking now!) has been since the weather lifted and all the people that melt in the rain attempt to catch-up.

With that, both houses are ready and decorated for the holidays.

"The stockings were hung by the chimney with care"

Our stockings are up also... all four of them... at both houses.

I'm always sensitive about our lifestyle and other than this blog, in my public life I always try to be discrete. As I was hanging up four stockings in a two-stocking house, it made me wonder what an unknowing guest might think if they saw four stockings on a single couple's mantle (Never mind what's in each of them, lol).

Hmm... makes me wonder what I'd answer if asked.

OK... I'm gonna be somewhat presumptuous and hope you accept the following in the spirit in which it is offered...

Whether you observe or celebrate Christmas or not,

I wish you all the the best this season can bring.

Merry Christmas,

Mike

Nasty Less Often

2010-12-14T13:17:00.000-08:00

Ahhh... so Mike, the part-time blogger at Shared Cindy has resurfaced. I know... somehow you must be feeling gypped. You keep coming back for more of Pinky's Story and other juicy accountings that I used to post more frequently when this blog first started.

Well, it's been quite a while since this blog first started (Shared Cindy is approaching 2 million hits spread over nearly 400 posts. Who knew?) and along the way our lifestyle has changed substantially. Actually, our lifestyle has not really changed much... the frequency of when we exercise it has, meaning, we're not any less nasty... we're just nasty less often and with fewer people. Naturally there are fewer such activities for me to write about.

Except for our trips to NY and Judy's visit last year, we only play with Joe and Suzy and how many times can I write about that? Our largest circle of fiends remain in New York, although this group is getting smaller and smaller over time.

We moved to CA over five years ago, taking Joe with us. Suzy followed us a year later after graduating law school. Another couple moved to Florida last year for better weather and yet another couple has accepted a promotion and transfer to Atlanta and will be moving there after the first of the year. That leaves only three couples from our core group and Judy remaining on Long Island, and Judy is seriously considering moving to CA but she must first overcome child custody issues with her sometimes-reasonable ex.

Down to four

I'm thinking that within our dwindling circle of fiends, most of our wilder, hotter and sluttier days have probably already occurred and within our present circle of four here in CA (maybe eventually five with Judy), these debauched events are not likely to be duplicated or exceeded... at least not in numbers. Since we've "settled down" so much, there are fewer shenanigans to write about.

My postings have also been affected quite a bit lately by my job (as fun as blogging is, my job has priority, sorry). I've been even more busy than usual and can offer this as my second-best alibi. Despite what you have heard and read about the economy, my company's business is soaring and November was a record month for us. December appears to be just as strong, although this is a short business month because of the holidays.

Contributing further to my writing delinquency... we recently had a couple of live-in house guests. Don't get excited... they were an aunt and uncle on their first-time trip to California last week and their visit cut into everyone's schedules while entertaining and playing tour guide. Beaches, mountains, deserts, shopping, dining. Not unpleasant... just inconvenient when you have so many other plans near the holidays.

Speaking of the holidays, since my last post, I've survived my annual Christmas "malling" and have managed to get most of my Christmas shopping done early. Now I have only the "last-minute" odds-and-ends to gather that won't be "last-minute" for a change. Only stocking stuffers remain for me to get and these are among my favorites... especially when I have so much time to get creative.

Christmas shopping can be tough enough but did I mention I don't miss trying to shop in the ice and snow? I hate to rub it in, but while the midwest and east coasts were freezing, it was 90 degrees yesterday and 82 today. We love NY but the weather is the main reason we're such willing refugees from there. Maybe the rest of our NY fiends (not misspelled) would consider moving to Southern California? Hmm... it could be like the "old days" only without the snow days. Besides having a lot more fun, I'd have a lot more to write about.

Crazy Perverts

2010-11-30T13:39:00.000-08:00

While cruising through the metrics of my blog traffic, I learned a bit more about my readers' tastes from the type of pictures they have chosen to download. Being a sex blog, most downloaded pictures are understandable both in content and by priority, but there are several non-sexual "strangers" in the mix that are rather surprising downloads for a sex blog.

Within a block of the 500 most-recent downloads, the top ten in descending order are as follows:

235 of them were Delicious 21, an obvious choice. Very hot!
37 were FMF, from "Ham in the Sandwich". Understandable.
25 were HNT 56, pretty eyes but a rather mundane choice for third.
20 were MFM 21, hmm... a cartoon sketch?
10 were When Worlds Collide, interesting, perhaps... sexy, no
9 liked Cowgirl 3, OK... I get it
7 d/l'ed Cowgirl 2, OK... I really get it
7 picked Yummy! I agree, especially because she is!
6 liked Judy 23, mildly provocative
5 picked, Morning Coffee WTF?

Are you kidding? It's hard to believe, but right now, the generic "Morning Coffee" is being downloaded more than "Messy BJ" , which has been the overwhelmingly number one download since May when it appeared in Pinky's Story - Pt 6.

C'mon... you'd rather look at this instead of this? Who knew?

All I can say is you're all a bunch of crazy perverts!

(and thanks for stopping by)

Post-Thanksgiving Post

2010-11-27T11:21:00.000-08:00

OMG, I am so lazy...

... and I have been ever since I participated in an day-long orgy of over-eating, over-drinking and over-sexing, all of which began early yesterday afternoon. Joe and Suzy left about an hour ago and I'm like a jellyfish – a mindless, gooey protoplasm, undulating slowly in random directions, seemingly aimless with no direction or purpose, even bumping into stuff. Yeah... that's me.

Sure, why not? I'm very quiet and calm inside. Happy. Relaxed. Content. Satiated.

The house still smells like coffee and bacon but breakfast has been cleared for a while. It's a glorious day. Clear and cool, the air in the low-to-mid 60's, but the sunlight is bright and warm on the skin. The San Gabriel mountains, an hour away outside our north-facing bedroom windows are covered with snow down to 4,000 ft so the skiers are happy. I am too.

All week long, I had planned on getting a jump on the weekend by doing my yard-work today, but as long as this wonderfully-fuzzy, fog of contentment envelops me, I'm gonna remain lazy.

Cindy, on the other hand, is her usual dervish self – washing, folding, dusting, cleaning. After a good session of marathon sex, she can melt away and feel like I do now, but no matter how much gymnastic sex she might have had in the previous 24 hours, she can easily change into her "housecleaning mood" and with sperm still oozing from her swollen pussy, she can begin changing sheets and washing towels... even after a party!

Not me... I'm gonna remain lazy.

P.S. I was so lazy yesterday, I fell asleep and forgot to post this! I began this entry shortly after 1 o'clock on Friday and rediscovered and posted it this morning. [eyeroll] I'm just glad I saved it!

Pinky's Story - Sidebar

2010-11-17T15:07:00.000-08:00

This is a brief departure from the Pinky narrative to respond to several e-mails and a comment I've received about having unprotected sex with Pinky. I'm amused because however well-meaning, their concern comes a bit late though, ya think?

Anyway... they were gentle in their cautions and excused us in a sense because, "We were so young" and "It was our first time" and "What about AIDS?", but they also thought that Pinky, being older (and the instigator), should have provided something for protection.

Looking back... I'd have to agree, we probably should have used some sort of protection, but not from disease as was mentioned. You have to understand... I'm describing things as they were in the summer of 1982. The word AIDS was used only for the first time in July of that year and very little was known about it except it was rumored to affect mainly gay males in Africa somewhere. This was before anyone knew that unprotected sex could kill you. For the most part, if you caught cooties from somebody back then, you just went to the doctor, got a shot in the ass and filled a 10-day prescription and that was usually that.

No... on this subject, nary a thought of protection against disease was made by either of us, nor did it matter... we were both virgins. Our untried, tender pink parts were exactly that... untried.

"Ain't no cooties on me!" from Dyna-Moe Humm, Frank Zappa, 1973.

Back to contraception. We did speak about this. Well actually... Pinky did most of the talking, with me interrupting with an occasional, "Are you sure?" and accepting by default, her older, book-learned explanations. In Pinky's mind, she felt I was old enough to practice on, but too young to make babies [eyeroll], so we took no precautions and fucked gloriously bareback every single time. Hell, I didn't know much about all this and I certainly didn't care either... I was 12 fucking years old! (AND I was fucking!)

Although Pinky wrongly believed that I couldn't make a baby, at least she rightly knew that she could and declared that when she starts fucking boys her own age, they'll all have to wear a condom. Hmm... this part about "fucking other boys" didn't sit well with me at all, as I was just learning about love and lust and was incapable of sharing a lover like I can today.

When we began our sexual sojourn together, I fully understood her when she explained that she wanted to date boys her age and have sex, but she didn't want to hurriedly "learn" in the back seat of a car from an over-anxious teenage boy. She explained that she wanted to explore and learn about sex at her own pace, with someone nice and whom she trusts. "Someone safe", she said. Fortunately, quite fortunately, she chose me as her partner to explore with (Too bad you can't see how big my smile is as I type!).

While admittedly a bit daring on her part (I would not turn 12 for a couple of months), for Pinky I was safe. I lived in a different neighborhood, I went to a different school, I would certainly never tell anyone and I was 5 years younger than she... too large an age difference for me to fall in love with her and complicate things, right?

To be continued...

Pinky's Story - Pt 10

2010-11-12T15:21:00.000-08:00

Click here to go to the last chapter (maybe you should).

Click here to go to the beginning.

When Worlds Collide

I don't remember who got to the top of the stairs first, but like the experienced lovers we weren't, we began to passionately kiss at the top of the stairs, both of us already somewhat breathless from our playful shoving match along the way. We kissed like this all the while moaning and squirming as somehow our clothes began to melt away, being unbuttoned, unfastened and unzipped by inexperienced but determined fingers, until one-by-one, each article of clothing had drifted to the floor until we were both wonderfully nude, standing in a sea of discarded clothing scattered around our feet. All this while never breaking our wet, desperate kiss.

Now, as naked as I was born and without my jeans to restrain my throbbing club of flesh, it was pressed hard and insistent against Pinky's flat stomach. She was as anxious as I was and she reached down to caress my hardness and moaned when she felt it. I did too. OMG... we were on fire.

We were young, excited virgins on an epic threshold of lust and desire, anxious to lose our virgin designation with someone we loved and trusted. Someone who always made you feel good.

It was a whirlwind of foreplay. Mouths, boobies, fingers, pussies, hands, cocks, tongues. Her insistent mouth was on my cock, seemingly frantic until I made her stop. She was annoyed that I did but I knew if I were to perform later, I had to forego cumming in her mouth. I then had my own selfish mouth on her and in her until she came several times. I was learning. So was she. Yum... my pleasure. Very wet, but creamy? Wow... that's different. But everything about tonight would be different, just as the rest of my young world would be forever.

I was in my own private heaven, licking and lapping away at my precious Pinky's, red-haired pussy, while grinding my stiff dick into the carpet. I had done this for her before and with more appreciation each time, but never before had she cum so easily and this time it was accompanied with some kind of girl-cream. Mmmm... nasty.

My face, my mouth, my tongue, my being was lost in her streaming pussy, my entire body and mind smiling and wet in my own pink world of wetness when I felt her hands, in an insistent tug of my hair pulling me upwards, out of her splendid pink and fragrant flower.

"Mmmph... mmmph...", I protested as best I could, my face blissfully planted in her streaming pussy, until she pulled me up. I then began to kiss my way back up her lush teen-aged body, kissing her strawberry, candy-floss pubic hair, her navel, her flat stomach, her full, round breasts with nipples so hard, they'd poke your eyes out. I gently bit them, not really knowing what I was doing, but it just felt so natural. She in return, responded with an sharp, inhalation of, "Shhhh...", sucking her breath across her teeth in the mild pain and pleasure of such an experience. Jeeze, we were so young.

My face was soaking wet, shiny with her juices as she again kissed me with passionate desperation, moaning deep in her throat as she tasted herself in my mouth. I am fortunate to have experienced many such moments of hedonistic excitement since then, but nothing has ever approached the blind, lemming-like urge to couple on that particular day.

Pinky was on a level far above mine only I didn't know it. When she first grabbed me by the hair and pulled me upwards, she was semi-gentle. Along the way she became insistent, then needy. By the time my face was even with hers and she was licking and sucking her juices from my face, her two-handed, hair-pull was on the verge of pain. Kee-rist, she was horny.

Pinky reached down and easily found my ever-present hardness and placed the turgid head of my cock at her virgin entrance. I had zero experience past this point, experienced only in my new-found masturbatory fantasies of what I thought sex would be like, but I knew enough from textbooks and certainly more importantly, what I had seen in her girlfriend's purloined dirty book to know what my physical responsibility was.

I was gonna stick my penis in her vagina. I was gonna stick my cock in her cunt. I was gonna fuck her!

And fuck her I did.

My cock slid easily into her wetness – no misguided, inexperienced poking around and missing – I slid right in. OMG! Ecstasy enveloped both of us, her warm wetness surrounded my cock, while her hungry, virgin pussy eagerly accepted the hot hardness she had been so desperately seeking. There was no painful entry, no piercing pain, no trace of blood to mark the passing of her virginity, only the never-heard-before keenings and moaning in my ears of a hot-blooded red head with a stiff cock buried in her cunt for the very first time.

I was not a good lover. I had yet to learn what that is, but I functioned well as the male half of this primitive Darwinian equation. My youthful thrusts into her liquid heat were as automatic, mechanical and instinctive as any other mammal following millions of years of ingrained reproductive programming. But I am also human, which means I have higher thought processes than other mammals, which included those of lust and lechery and all sorts of thoughts about selfish, hedonistic pleasures. We had no moral concerns about what we were doing, we only knew we would rather die than stop.

Pinky was in an erotic swoon, rolling her head back and forth in time with my amateur thrusts, making small animal sounds that would have otherwise alarmed me. Her smooth, strong legs were wrapped around my body, her heels unnecessarily spurring me on. Her arms crushed me to her ample chest while she moaned, "Oh, Mikey! Oh Mikey!" over and over.

I had no concept of time, but our first coupling seemed as quick as it seemed forever. Looking back, I couldn't have lasted more than a minute or two before feeling the now-familiar tingling surge in my loins warning of my imminent explosion. I vaguely remember whispering in her ear, "Pinky... OMG... I'm gonna... I'm gonna... Then groaning, "Oh, Piii-nn-kkk! It's cumming out of me... oh... oh... oh!", as I helplessly bucked and spasmed atop her splayed body as huge gouts of thick, teenaged sperm pulsed from my cock into her previously virgin pussy.

Pinky clutched at me desperately and made soft, squealing noises when she felt my liquid fire flood her vagina. In another world, I continued to mechanically thrust in and out of her, my cock now making nasty, wet noises as it sluiced in and out of her jizz-filled pussy. These nasty noises spurred me on and I continued to fuck her pussy... my pussy, for all of my juvenile worth.

If my cock was supposed to go soft, it didn't know it. Seconds after my first orgasm passed, my cock lost only some of its glass hardness, but within thirty seconds, the strength and stamina of my youth restored it to its original hardness, much to our mutual pleasure.

More coherent now, I continued to fuck in and out of my Pinky, enjoying the sounds she was making, along with the wet, squishy sounds emanating from her flooded pussy. Suddenly, her breathing changed and her muscles changed their tautness and she growled, "Oh, Mikey... don't stop. Please don't stop!" As much as I loved her at that moment, there was no way in hell I could have or would have stopped!

My stiff cock pistoned rapidly in and out of her cream-filled cylinder until with a short, surprised cry of, "Oh yes, Mikey!", she clutched me to her so hard I could hardly breathe. Pinky was experiencing her very first vaginal orgasm around my plunging cock and she was cumming so hard, her strong, clenching vaginal muscles had nearly squeezed my plunging cock from her slippery insides. To prevent this, I drove my stiffness into her even harder as she continued to grunt, groan and moan beneath me.

For just a second I paused, thinking I was somehow hurting her, but with her desperate clinging and her heels spurring my ass to continue, I did. After her intense-but-brief orgasm, she began to settle and a few seconds later, she smiled up at me and then pulled my face to hers and began giving me a very wonderful thank you kiss. My mouth is nearly an erotic center as the glans of my penis is and within seconds, that heavy, undeniable tingling returned to my erotic center and I interrupted our kiss only to breathily whisper, "Oh Pinky, I'm gonna cum again. I'm gonna cum inside you!" and with this, she urged me on with, "Yes! Yes! Yes!", as my cock leaped and spurted and flooded her pink sugar walls with thick globs of lumpy white sperm for the second time that evening.

When Worlds Collide

Perhaps years passed before I became aware again, totally spent for the moment and breathing hard. Pinky lay beneath me, smiling broadly and holding me tightly as the last waves of our first orgasm(s) from full intercourse eventually passed. Life would never be the same for either of us.

Still shaking, with limbs twitchy and jerking, we both reveled in the moment, kissing, hugging, smiling and giggling as we realized what we had done and were happy, even proud of our great accomplishment and in sharing our now-adult secret.

When we were both fully recovered, we were surprisingly hungry and thirsty. We padded downstairs nude to the kitchen as casually as if we did this all the time. There, we made peanut butter and jelly sandwiches like the children we really were. Our closeness had been magnified ten-fold and we couldn't stop touching and caressing each other while we exchanged peanut butter kisses and tender words of endearment.

Back upstairs, we resumed our first evening together. I licked and sucked at her cream-filled pussy to several orgasms and until every trace of my earlier spendings could not be tasted. She then took her time sucking my cock until I came. She swallowed almost all of it before sharing the rest with me in a long, sloppy kiss. This starchy, bitter kiss caused my young cock to rise again and soon, we were fucking once more – this time taking a monumental 15 minutes. As the sense of urgency began to subside along with our libidos, the thought of getting caught eventually displaced our lust and this paranoia caused us to finally stop pleasuring each other and we cleaned up our huge mess.

We now felt so grown up and we wanted to sleep together in the same bed, but Pinky being older and wiser decided it was too risky. We reluctantly slept apart, but she woke at first light, came into my room and we ate and fucked each other once more in my own bed.

Being Sunday and with no homework, we were innocently watching TV when my parents came home about mid-day. They seemed as happy with their very successful evening as Pinky and I were with ours, only now being officially lovers, Pinky and I had to be specially careful about the unconscious looks and touches that new lovers make and do. This was not an easy thing for such young people to do.

Her parents came by to pick her up and my dad gave her the agreed-upon $20 along with a $5 tip. As he paid her, we both had to suppress smiles and giggles at each other as we realized that Pinky got paid for fucking me!

We waved as they drove away and I returned upstairs to my room to smell and touch my still-wet sheets while reliving our remarkable evening.

I also began my own private agony until we could be together again.

Jump to Pt -11

MCP Jokes

2010-11-08T15:12:00.000-08:00

While I'm not actually a bad blogger, it seems that I'm not a very good one either. By "not very good", I mean I would really like to post more regularly, but work is the largest competitor for my time. Although my temporary, pinch-hitting stint in Asia has concluded, my own territory still needs tending, so last week had me in Vancouver, BC and in Mexico City. While I do like both cities, being on the road does not help me blog and is the main reason that Pinky's Story and others have been temporarily stalled and are overdue. I promise to remedy this soon.

In the meantime and so you don't leave Shared Cindy after reading yet another lame excuse about my work travel, I'll leave you with a bad list of MCP jokes (Male Chauvinist Pig). Hopefully you know by now that I'm not like the teller of these jokes, but there are some funny ones here. Adjust your sense of humor and let's hope there is no one really quite like the writer of this list (#10 cracked me up).

MCP JOKES

1) In the company of feminists, coitus should be referred to as:

a) Lovemaking
b) Screwing
c) The pigskin bus pulling into tuna town

2) You should make love to a woman for the first time only after you’ve both shared:

a) Your views about what you expect from a sexual relationship

b) Your blood-test results
c) Five tequila slammers

3) You time your orgasm so that:

a) Your partner climaxes first
b) You both climax simultaneously
c) You don’t miss SportsCenter

4) Passionate, spontaneous sex on the kitchen floor is:

a) Healthy, creative love-play
b) Not the sort of thing your wife/girlfriend would ever agree to
c) Not the sort of thing your wife/girlfriend need ever find out about

5) Spending the whole night cuddling a woman you’ve just had sex with is:

a) The best part of the experience
b) The second best part of the experience
c) $100 extra

6) Your girlfriend says she’s gained five pounds in weight in the last month. You tell her that's:

a) No concern of yours
b) Not a problem - she can join your gym
c) A conservative estimate

7) You think today’s sensitive, caring man is:

a) A myth
b) An oxymoron
c) A moron

8) Foreplay is to sex as:

a) Appetizer is to entree
b) Priming is to painting
c) A line is to an amusement park ride

9) Which of the following are you most likely to find yourself saying at the end of a relationship?

a) “I hope we can still be friends.”
b) “I’m not in right now. Please leave a message after the tone.”
c) “Welcome to Dumpsville. Population: You.”

10) A woman who is uncomfortable watching you masturbate:

a) Probably needs a little more time before she can cope with that sort of intimacy
b) Is uptight and a waste of time
c) Shouldn’t have sat next to you on the bus in the first place

If you answered ‘A’ more than 7 times,
check your pants to make sure you really are a man.

If you answered ‘B’ more than 7 times,
check into therapy, you’re still a little confused.

If you answered ‘C’ more than 7 times,
call me up... let’s go drinking.

Which one amused you the most?

Fucking The Neighbors

2010-10-26T14:00:00.000-07:00

A very relaxing weekend. Made especially so because the rainy weather prevented almost all outside chores from being done, so most of our activities were indoors.

Despite the week long, "Welcome Home", honeymoon activities of my bride, it had been several weeks since we played with Joe and Suzy and we were both looking forward to an intimate evening with them in front of their fireplace. We showed up at seven with two bottles of their favorite Merlot and later enjoyed Suzy's patented beef brisket with all the fixin's. Yummy. So was she as I later ate her for desert.

I was going to finish and post the bubble bath story I mentioned in my last post but what happened last Friday night managed to be started and finished easier. Hey... I know I'm out of sequence, but take it in this order... that way I still owe the bubble bath story.

This last Friday evening was different than our normal routine. Normally, there is no real order or script to our evenings... things just happen until the last one conscious blows out the candles and turns off the lights. Even without a plan or dance card to follow, in the course of an evening, Joe and I usually manage to sex each of our women twice. Last Friday was different... in the course of about six hours, Joe and I came only twice – once in each woman. Unlike our free-for-all, everybody-fucks-everybody-at-the-same-time routine, on this Friday, there were only four separate sex acts to completion, each done in pairs.

After dinner and the dishes, we moved to the den where Cindy and Joe got frisky first and by the time I returned with the wine bottle and Suzy brought down a stack of towels, the last of their clothes had been shed all around the room. I settled into the corner of the couch and Suzy sat very close to me with her feet curled up under her as we watched our spouses kiss and explore each other.

Despite their long familiarity and intimacy, Joe and Cindy are lovers and they fuck that way. Their kissing soon became more urgent and we could hear both their breaths increase, but soon the room was quiet again as first Joe, then Cindy went down on the other... Cindy had a small orgasm near the end of hers while Joe had to stop her twice, much to her disappointment. She is a cum slut after all.

In the next hour or so, Suzy and I fairly squirmed in our seats as we watched her Joe fuck my Cindy most thoroughly. They were both classic, sexual animals, bent only on giving and getting pleasure. Someone else watching them might have thought that they were showing off in front of Suzy and me, but this is not the case. They get so gone... so into each other, it's more like Suzy and I weren't even there to impress.

As I said, this was a somewhat different evening for all of us because we're almost never content to merely watch, so everyone gets involved early on. Instead, watching my Cindy being ravished so well by her lover - watching her slender body writhe and squirm around on Joe's thick dick was an exquisite torture for me. Whew... I had to unfasten my jeans to free my rampant cock. Barely looking away from our private sex show, Suzy found it and stroked it gently for me, her eyes riveted to the wrestling bodies of our spouses.

Near the end, Joe's body was shiny with sex sweat, as was Cindy's. Cindy had cum several times and squirted twice. Joe was panting and near exhaustion so with him sitting in the chair, Cindy mounted him in reverse cowgirl and began riding him for his big finish.

A big finish it was as Suzy and I watched Cindy bounce up and down the length of his cock and heard her urging him on until he began to grunt in time with the huge spurts of sperm that were being injected into her womb, my wife's pussy expertly milking him. Cindy was breathing hard and exclaimed an excited, "Yes! Yes! Yes!" in time with every one of his enormous grunts. Joe's big heavy balls were drawn up tight into his body and he groaned helplessly with his huge release as Suzy and I watched his pent-up sperm pulse up the visible length of his urethra over and over and deep into my wife. In seconds, his thick, potent sperm began to course back out of her, coating his drawn-up balls with his copious spending. Cindy finally stopped bouncing and eased down with the full length of Joe's cock pressed deep inside her flooded pussy.

Mmmm... nasty or what?

Fuck! That was just too hot! Suzy and I were still half-clothed and once again were amazed at their sexuality, their heat, their wanton, hedonistic energy, the unique sexual chemistry they have for each other. I was staring at one of the sexiest views ever, as my cum fetish kicked in and I wished for the hundredth time that Joe wasn't so straight because I wanted nothing more than to bury my face in their combined mess.

This nasty sight stirred Suzy in the same way and she quickly moved to clean them, but I stopped her. Their creampie was so sexy, I had the presence of mind to have Suzy snap this shot with her cell phone first. It might look like any of the millions of other cream pies on the Internet, but this one is nastier... it's ours. After this single picture was snapped, I watched with disappointment and envy as Suzy began to lick and clean her boyfriend and my wife.

Although I have watched Joe fuck and inseminate my hot wife hundreds of times before, I was on fire from watching them tonight and had shed the rest of my clothes while watching Suzy lick and slurp at her boyfriend's decedent evidence of a hot fuck. As she continued her oral attentions, I began undressing her from behind. When she finally lifted her messy face up and away from where our spouses had been joined, I held her chin gently as I kissed and licked the spermy mess from her mouth. Hot!

While we were kissing, Suzy was making soft, whimpering noises deep in her throat... animal noises. Fuck me noises. While we continued our cum-flavored kiss (which makes me absolutely crazy with lust), I helped her slip out of the last of her clothes and soon our entirely nude bodies were pressed tightly together and like this we awkwardly made our way to the couch. When her legs bumped the cushions, I gently pushed her backwards and she sank into it.

I was standing right in front of her with my cock jutting out at a 45 degree angle. Suzy wanted to suck on me but I needed no foreplay and instead I quickly dropped to my knees and selfishly dove between her legs. Thus began our session, as Joe and Cindy melted lazily into each other to rest and take their turn watching us.

I've said here more than once that Joe and Cindy always manage to put on a fantastic show – worthy of any porn loop today – but Suzy and I are no slouches either... especially tonight. After I greedily ate her hairless and very wet pussy to several orgasms, I knelt between her widespread legs, lined up my throbbing cock at her steamy opening and slid in to the hilt, fully impaling her.

Yeah... it's an Alpha-male, fuck night.

Fully impaled. That's how we started and that's how we finished. After an hour of gymnastic sex, many position changes and two squirting orgasms, Suzy mounted me like Cindy had mounted Joe earlier and began to ride me to a white-hot exploding finish. My nasty Suzy bounced astride me while coaxing the sperm from my nuts with short, nasty sentences that breathily matched her tempo. "Cum, baby. Yeah, cum. Cum in my pussy. Cum for me. Shoot me. Fill me. Then eat me. Then kiss me." Wow... you betcha, lady.

Her dirty talk had me on the verge... I was sweating and winded and badly needed to cum. Wrapped up in ourselves, we hadn't noticed that Joe and Cindy were paying a lot closer attention to us now than they did when we had first started. This was understandable as they were still glowing from their own session when we first started, but that was over an hour ago and our session had aroused them again.

I was approaching the point of no return... that familiar electric tingling deep in my loins, my core. My cock growing harder if possible and my nuts tightening up. Suzy could feel this and asked, "Ohhh yeah... you gonna cum?", she asked frantically. "You gonna cum?"

"Uh huh", was all I could respond as I felt my center getting drawn into the inexorable whirlpool of my orgasm.

"Cum for me, baby. Cum inside me. Shoot me.", Suzy coaxed although I needed no such coaxing. Seconds later, I did exactly as she asked me and I came inside of her... enormously. Thick, ropey jets of white hot semen shot deep into her body as I bucked and spasmed helplessly in the throes of my climax. While I wasn't actually listening, I remember hearing both Joe and Cindy exclaim, "Wow!" and "Go!" during our climactic finish and melt down. Suzy continued to slide her sloppy, cum-filled pussy up and down my spurting cock, milking every drop from me until I had to stop her... too sensitive, too twitchy.

Suzy sat wide-spread atop my hips and I could feel streams of cum running down my smooth balls and down the crack of my ass. Before our last tremors and quakes could begin to subside, Cindy duplicated what Suzy had done earlier and she licked and lapped at Suzy's sloppy cunt and my hairless cum-glazed balls, purposefully making nasty wet noises while she did so. After several minutes, when she was satisfied she had cleaned us well enough, she returned to Joe's side and kissed him open-mouthed with her sloppy wet face. Nasty girl.

Suzy and I were spent for the moment but Joe had fully recovered while watching us and was raring to go again. He gave Suzy barely enough time to recover before he want down on her himself, although I'm certain Cindy didn't leave him much to clean up. In less than ten minutes, Cindy and I were watching her boyfriend fuck my girlfriend. Hot. We watched them dance the same dance Cindy danced earlier and nearly an hour later they collapsed wetly together. Aroused once more by their stirring performance, Cindy and I soon began our husband and wife tryst and we fucked each other's legs off for a good long time, giving a magnificent performance before exploding together at the end.

It was a full 10 minutes before we stirred and began cuddling and talking. Joe and I were quiet, but the girls liked the way the evening went and were especially tender and loving in afterglow. We doused the candles and the fire and with kneak wees, we wobbled our way up the stairs to sleep till morning.

Morning began when I awoke with the combination of the smell of coffee brewing downstairs and with Cindy sucking Joe's big dick. Soon Suzy was back upstairs and unlike the previous evening, all four of us were fucking away, trading partners several times.

The rest of the morning was very lazy as you could imagine, all of us steeped in the foggy afterglow of a night and morning full of very physical sex. Cindy and I drove home a little after noon, did some chores and later spent Saturday night with Joe and Suzy, eating and drinking German fare at the huge Oktoberfest in Anaheim. Happy and buzzed on hearty German beer, we wound up back at our house where all four of us fell asleep watching a Jason Bourne rerun.

I like our neighbors.

Back On The Air

2010-10-21T16:48:00.000-07:00

Yeah, I'm back... only unlike my condition in the last post, I'm fully recovered and back in fighting trim. Well... maybe not fighting trim, but writing trim. I also have the time to do so again. Whew!

After a few comp days, my bride, my house, my yard and my body have all received the overdue maintenance and care they all so sorely needed. After three days, my bride and I are both sore, but I'm not complaining... not a bit. Despite staying with Joe and Suzy on occasion for love and attention, Cindy was exceptionally amorous upon my return and she prolonged my recovery several days by constantly extracting a certain bodily fluid from me that she deems precious. Hmm... I don't know if it is, but her extraction methods are. Sheesh!

It's been raining here again for several days. This means that the rest of the country will probably get gypped out of seeing a lot of Southern California brushfire news coverage this fall. Our alternating brushfire/mudslide "seasons" make for good entertainment on an otherwise boring news show, prompting many a viewer elsewhere to watch and wonder, "Why the hell do they live there?" Fall came early and like the summer, with unseasonably low temperatures and now with this very early but substantial rainfall. This will green everything up for another month or so, better for the foothills to weather the hot and dry conditions of our seasonal Santa Ana winds that contribute greatly to the wildfires here.

The wet weather has also slowed my progress in the yard, but great inroads have been made in between showers and as soon as it's dry enough, outside projects can resume. However... the favorable wet climate inside the house makes me glad it's unfavorably wet outside.

Speaking of wet... I've nearly completed a wet and slippery story about Cindy and me that began in a recent bubble-bath. I've also nearly finished the next chapter of the soon-to-be-posted, Pinky's Story. Both stories are very wet... trust me.

Wow... Pinky and me happened so long ago. I have to admit that there are some parts that are difficult to recall in correct order or detail but I'm doing my best. I must also admit that recalling the treasured memory of Pinky is like rereading a favorite chapter from one of your old, forgotten, fantasy books. In this parallel, Pinky's Story is only one of the favorite chapters in my own, very rich, wonderful and yet-unfinished, Book of Life.

Back In A Few...

2010-10-18T14:34:00.000-07:00

I'm back. Back from hopefully, the last of a series of particularly grueling trips back and forth to Asia. I've been pinch-hitting for my counterpart on that side of the world who has fortunately recovered completely from his mild heart attack and has returned to work. It's a good thing he's returned or I was gonna have one.

(not me)

I was simply not designed for such abuse... more than 60,000 miles in a single month while bouncing back and forth like a ping pong ball through 9 time zones. Tokyo, Beijing, Hong Kong, Singapore... all exotic places to be sure, but no fun at all at such a machine-gun pace.

Obviously, I've been unofficially offline for a while with no explanation, leaving people wondering when I'm going to post again. Well, any wondering can cease because with this explanation, I'm officially offline for just a while longer. My bride, my house, my yard and my body all need some maintenance and care.

So like C3PO said to Luke, (Click here)

Pinky's Story - Pt 9

2010-10-01T14:03:00.000-07:00

Click here to go to the last chapter.

Click here to go to the beginning.

The Planets Are Aligned

The next time Pinky and I were together again was two, long agonizing weeks later. Again, this was before everyone had a cell phone, e-mail, twitter and sit-on-my-facebook for daily and routine communication so we were virtually incommunicado in between our explorations. This tortuous separation only sharpened our desires and intensified our expectations. As excited as Pinky and I were, this particular night was going to be a big night for everyone. I'll explain.

My parents were semi-well-to-do and socially active on Long Island and in NYC. Among their many hobbies, included being benefactors of sorts to a little theater group off-Broadway. My mom helped with costumes and choreography and my dad enjoyed being gaffer and key grip. On this particular weekend there was some big production or play opening and they were needed in the City several times during the week for preparation but they managed to come home each night. Since it was summer, I stayed and played with neighbors during the day. Much to my delight I learned on a Thursday that my parents would be staying in The City on Saturday night and that Pinky had been cleared by her parents to babysit me and sleep over. Oh my.

With so much interest in the stage production, I'm sure my parents were financially involved also, but at this strategic point in my young life, I cared not a whit... I was just glad that their hobby would have them in Manhattan for the night. How convenient.

They soberly explained to me that Saturday was going to be a big night for everyone. It was their big stage production and their first time away from me overnight not staying with relatives. They also reminded me that this was going to be Pinky's first overnight baby-sitting job, "a big responsibility" for a young girl. It was also going to be my first time overnight with a sitter so I was expected to be, "on my best behavior". I assured them I would behave and do everything Pinky told me to do. Repeatedly.

Yes, this was going to be a very big night.

For two weeks prior, I had been jacking off three-and-more times a day while thinking of nothing but my beloved Pinky and reliving our magical, wet explorations together, but the new promise of being with her the entire night sent me into masturbatory overdrive and it's a wonder I didn't permanently hurt myself.

On that long-awaited Saturday afternoon, Pinky's mom was good enough to drop her off at our house. Me and my mom came out to greet them in the driveway. With the motor still running, the two moms began to chat while Pinky and I got her sleeping bag and backpack out of the back seat. As we carried her stuff into the house, we both overheard them saying, "I'm sure they'll be just fine together overnight", and "Of course they'll be fine... they're good kids.", as they mutually reassured each other as mothers typically do.

Upon hearing how we'd be, "just fine together overnight", Pinky and I barely made it into the house without being heard snorting and sneezing as we struggled to stifle outbursts of laughter. We laughed and giggled helplessly for a full minute as soon as we were safely inside. My mom came back in just as the last of our laughter had subsided. She caught this, looked at us, smiled and said, "I'm so happy you two get along so well. You two are just perfect together."

OMG... Pinky and I both had to look away because if either of us had caught so much as a glance at each other, we both would have lost it!

Totally not understanding her unintended double meanings, she continued cooing at us, "Aw... and so modest at compliments too! Look at both of you... all red-faced and shy too. How cute! Just knowing how well you guys get along makes it easy for your father and me to leave you alone overnight. Uh oh... I've got to finish getting dressed or we'll be late.", and she dashed up the stairs.

Pinky and I continued to giggle and exchange knowing glances, then giggled again. I had a hard-on captive in my jeans ever since she arrived and I proudly pushed my crotch forward for her to see. She looked down, then back up quickly with a stern look on her face like, "Behave!", but then broke into a grin and nodded, "I know. I know."

Trying hard to restrain ourselves, in slow motion we set up the Parchesi game on the kitchen table while my parents finished dressing. Then my dad had to get some stuff out of the garage to take with them and it seemed like it took forever for them to finally leave. Finally, standing at the front door and with four-way hugs all around, they admonished us to be safe while we wished them a great show.

Yeah, yeah, mom and dad. I love you too, but just go, ok?

Finally... finally, they closed and locked the front door behind them. Pinky and I ran to the living room where kneeling on the couch, we both watched and waved as they drove away. As soon as they were out of sight, we laughed and giggled and hugged each other then laughed and giggled some more.

"C'mon." she said, "Let's play the game for a few minutes in case they come back".

Remembering how they came back the last time, we did.

Like the last time, they did.

Not even out of the neighborhood, they had returned to get some posters for the play. Dad idled in the driveway while my mom burst through the door and ran through the house. On the way out, she noticed us playing Parchesi and said, "See... you're settled in already. What good kids you are! Byeee!"

"Bye mom!"

"Bye, kids!", and the door slammed behind her. The house was silent as we both sat with our eyes locked but without moving. We heard her heels trot away from the door, heard the trunk slam first, then the car door. In seconds, we heard them back out and drive away, more hurried this time. We both listened silently until the car was out of earshot. We looked at each other with wicked grins and without any sign or signal, we raced up the stairs together, pushing and shoving each other the entire way.

Jump to Pt-10

Ham In The Sandwich

2010-09-25T19:18:00.000-07:00

I've used that title before and I'll get to it in a few paragraphs.

We've been enjoying the waning days of the summer-that-hardly-was. In fact, we're still waiting for summer to start! Except for a week of 90 degrees in June, and now this weekend, Southern California has been about 10 degrees below average all summer, while everyone in NY has been complaining to us loudly about their heat and humidity. Big Bob on Long Island said his unheated pool temperature hasn't been below 85 degrees in weeks. Crazy weather.

It's finally back in the 90's this weekend so that means we'll be back at the beach pretending it's still summer. Surfing was good a few weeks ago... waves over 10 ft in some places, but lately the waves are small and mushy until the bottom sand that was washed away by the previously-large surf gradually sifts back in and returns to normal.

Not much else to report... our lives have grown so quiet these days. We've been partially occupied in the evenings watching Jupiter through binoculars and telescopes in the backyard. Jupiter is very close to Earth right now and is the brightest object in the sky after the moon. With good field glasses and steady hands, you can clearly see four of Jupiter's moons. The extra-bright Harvest Moon makes them harder to see, but the moon is no less spectacular... so bright it almost hurts your eyes.

Joe is overseas again but quite fortunately, I've been in town all week, thank goodness. Besides not being used to the consistent grind of travel that Joe manages... I get downright lonesome. So do the girls. This became evident by Tuesday night when Suzy (already alone on Monday night) moved in with us for some company, maintenance and TLC until Joe returns on Friday. Yeah... I'm home alone with these two, lately rather-neglected nymphos.

I know that having two women in his bed is nearly every man's fantasy and therefore, most men reading this would love to be in my situation. But guys, as I've stated here many times before... unless the women you are with are also interested in each other and can entertain themselves between rounds, I can only say that you should be prepared for a mind-blowing and strenuous evening, however short it may last.

Despite my substantial training in these type of events, my evenings spent doing maintenance on Cindy and Suzy are supported by; my penis, fingers, hands and tongue and imagination, their fingers, hands and tongues and imaginations and all sorts of toys, plugs and gadgets (meat substitutes).

Even with all of that superb support equipment to aid me, my one-man-band attempt at complete and thorough maintenance of both women to satiation often falls short and I become a one-man-rubber-band instead. Readers... meet Mike, aka "Gumby". This includes my penis, fingers, hands, tongue, arms, legs, stomach and mind. Even the toy batteries are dead.

I am absolutely not complaining... if you could see me writing this, the smile on my face would dispel any such notion. I'm just throwing out a caution to any fellow who becomes lucky enough to bed two women at once... you'd first better eat your Wheaties. While you're eating them, think about how hard it must be to get your picture on the front of the Wheaties box. I personally think that any one man who can manage to satisfy two horny women by himself, deserves to be on that box cover.

Cautions and warning labels about stamina and endurance aside, from my own experience, my advice to any fellow who might find himself on the cusp of a three-some – whether the mix be the traditionally male FMF fantasy or not... jump in. As long as everyone's lights are full green, an open and willing three-some in any combination promises little risk and lots of fun.

In the event your long-awaited three-some is a MFM and you find yourself reluctant to be in the presence of, or heaven forbid, perhaps even touch another naked man... butch up, ignore any phobias you may have and concentrate instead on the woman's pleasure... together.

I promise you, no one... not one of you will be sorry.

Disclaimer: All of this scenario is outside of the extra psychology required, especially for the man sharing the woman.

Being the center of so much attention, the woman will get so hot and uninhibited, she'll probably burn you both down, but later and thereafter, she'll look at and love you both in a way few men get to experience.

I know.

Need A Pool Boy

2010-09-20T18:12:00.000-07:00

Wow... seems I'm trying to run a sex blog in absentia.

A fellow in one of our Asian offices had a mild heart attack last month and I've been asked to pinch-hit for him 'till he returns. A promotion and raise helped convince me to say "yes", and because of this lucrative bribe, I've been spending the last few weeks running back and forth overseas like Joe does. I returned Saturday night from a long week in Hong Kong after two previous weeks in Japan and Singapore.

In commiseration, I was joking with Joe last night about getting the girls a pool boy for when we're both away...

... and we don't have a pool.

Girls... would you let this fellow keep things clean?

Pinky"s Story - Pt 8

2010-09-03T13:36:00.000-07:00

Click here to go to the last chapter.

Click here to go to the beginning.

The Nastiest Kiss

With my mind and cock thoroughly blown, I would have fallen down had I not been on my back already. I looked down to see Pinky licking and sucking away at the last traces of my liquid explosion. She looked up at me and broke into the biggest, happiest grin ever. I'll never forget how happy she looked. I couldn't smile that large with my mouth, but I know what she meant because my entire body was smiling from the incredible pleasure she had given me.

In a swoon and still glad I was lying down, I looked down at Pinky's upturned face, mesmerized at the sight of her happy face, but more by her half-opened mouth still filled with my boy/man sperm, her pink tongue undulating in a sea of white goo. I watched as her face grew larger and larger, not realizing she was approaching my face... to kiss me!

I was not only unaware of what she was going to do, I had no conception of what she was going to do. I was hypnotized by the sight of my Pinky's obscenely-filled mouth until... it suddenly covered mine! Gravity alone would have caused my entire load to spill from her mouth into my mine, but Pinky had forced it into mine with her tongue.

I jumped in surprise and nearly broke the kiss, but she clutched me tight and pressed her lips to mine even harder and found my tongue with hers and moaned deep in her throat. OMG! Despite my initial shock and surprise at what she did, her kiss derailed any thought of protest or momentary disgust I initially felt. Instead, I went full-tilt the other way... the easy way... the logical way. Her mouth was electric, her tongue darting, dancing, searching for mine, finding it then fleeing, wrestling together, dancing, slithering and sliding, wet and slick, thickly coated with my slimy, sharp-tasting sperm. Nasty!

We may have kissed like this for 15 seconds or 15 minutes... I don't know, as I lost all concept of time. Actually everything. All I recall was when we finally broke our debauched kiss, my 12 year old cock was hard as glass again (!) and neither mouth possessed much of my syrupy seed. In the course of our kiss, it had been swallowed or drooled away, leaving only the exotic taste, texture and scent of this erotic new fetish to linger in our mouth and on our breath.

OMG, Pinky!

Her depraved kiss may have started out shocking and revolting to me at first, but because of her boldness, her brazenness, avant-gardeness (izzat a word?), before it ended, that sno-ball kiss marked the very beginning of a lifelong cum fetish I still enjoy today (if you've read much at all, you may have noticed).

I was dumbfounded in two ways... of course the incredibly nasty, wet kiss, (nearly a sex act in itself) was exhilarating and exciting, but there was also the emotional element I carried for Pinky, like, "How can such a good girl be so nasty? I was confused. I was elated! I was ecstatic! I hugged her, I kissed her, I giggled, I laughed, I couldn't talk, then I couldn't shut up. I was confused. I was 12.

Overwhelmed, in every sense of the word, I hugged her and breathed, "Pinky... I love you!", and I meant it.

She laughed with me... tentatively at first, seemingly understanding but perhaps not entirely. Nevertheless she laughed along with me, but unlike me... she knew this idyllic situation couldn't last forever. However, we did continue to explore like this throughout the rest of that wonderful summer.

While my parents were away, my trusted, red-haired babysitter would also help me with my homework (although we never managed to play Parchesi again). I was already getting straight A's, so she wasn't much help with my homework, but when we worked on our homework together, we learned a lot.

With every session we grew bolder and less inhibited (well, I did... Pinky was bold and uninhibited already! I was just trying to keep up with her!) Unlike the dangers encountered by intrepid explorers before us, Pinky and I drifted together lazily upon a placid Sea of Bliss, with only wondrous and pleasant discoveries before us. The infamous Pinky-Mike Expedition of my 12th summer.

We spent long and languorous hours in unhurried exploration, both content to drift to each unexplored shore and treasure wherever the wind and currents took us, with no need for stars or compass to follow a predetermined course or a final destination. With little fear of falling off the edge of the Earth, it took us a while for us to get to full intercourse.

After the first "official" BJ, Pinky always seemed to begin each evening with a wet, sloppy blow-job to completion. She quickly became a cum queen while practicing her oral skills. She insisted that making me cum this way first would give me better control over my second and third ones. Uh... ok. We continued to enjoy sno-ball kissing afterwards, although I quickly learned that this act was much more erotic just before and while I was cumming than it was afterwards. Mmm... either way was still very nasty.

Among our explorations and after not a lot of coaxing, she managed to get previously-timid me to shamelessly masturbate for her. True. That she was furiously frigging herself with her fingers or the handle of her favorite hairbrush while she watched me jack off, did manage to help quell some of my inhibitions.

Pinky really liked these Jack and Jill sessions of mutual masturbation and she would have us do it at least once each time we were together, becoming quite the voyeur along the way.

Me too, I guess.

During these sessions, she liked to time our orgasms at the same time, talking incredibly nasty about cumming and shooting and squirting until I couldn't resist any longer. She had me shoot my ever-increasing load at her open-mouth, streaking her face or had me spurt thick puddles of cum all over her churning fingers or hairbrush as she was cumming, my thick, milky sperm glazing her fingers and wispy red mound like a donut. We'd then lick each other completely clean and she quickly became quite the cum-freak.

Me too, I guess.

With my youthful apprehensions aside, I soon learned the pleasures of eating pussy. I spent so much time with my young face buried in her aromatic and wet, red-haired pussy, Pinky would joke that I was going to get a "raisin face", like when you get "raisin fingers" from being in water for a long time. I spent long, liquid hours licking, lapping, probing, exploring and learning all about Pinky's pink pussy and how it looked, tasted, smelled and squirmed as I did so.

Mmm... kind of like a real school, the best part of learning was knowing how much I was pleasing my teacher. Homework had never been so much fun.

Jump to Pt - 9

Toast

2010-08-28T16:04:00.000-07:00

Yes I am.

I just completed a whirlwind tour of four cities and six time zones, beginning last Sunday at 5 am. Of course I missed the hottest days and the best surf of the summer, grrrr.

I got in around midnight last night and Cindy let me sleep until 11, when I startled awake and couldn't go back to sleep. Still wonky.

Anyway... here's a sign of life.

Yawn...

2010-08-16T09:34:00.000-07:00

All's quiet here on the western front as we find ourselves coming into high summer. However, unlike much of the country which has suffered from high heat and humidity, our summer has been mild with temperatures running nearly ten degrees below normal. That's ok really... 85 degrees is much more comfortable than 95 degrees, even with our typically low humidity. As we usually seem to do, I think we'll have our week of 100 degrees closer to Labor Day.

Being mid-summer, the yard and vegetable garden are thriving, although much of the first plantings have been harvested and the rest are maturing even faster. Along the way, I've given away bags of corn (unbelievably sweet!), tomatoes, squash, bell peppers, string beans, lima beans and Swiss chard to the neighbors and at work. The best crop ever of wild blackberries was done in June and the lawn is green and thriving thanks to the mild weather.

Nothing but boring to report. Well... not really boring, but we are just enjoying being quite lazy. Joe and Suzy are back east visiting relatives for another week, so that side of the bed has been quiet lately. I have a lot of vacation time and comp days coming myself so Cindy and I go to the beach one day mid week and again on weekends, although the last couple of times we had to go farther south to San Clemente because of the crowds at the U.S. Open of Surfing at Huntington Beach. No, we didn't go... you couldn't get anywhere near the place. Traffic on Pacific Coast Highway was jammed for miles each way. Yeah I like to surf and watch it too, but not that much. It drew something like 400,000 people over the 10 day contest. No thanks.

Well... that's it for now. We're not unlike anyone else insofar as a summer routine goes (or lack of one). Maybe the most notable difference or change is I'm in the process of making a new friend. No, not another addition to our bed. A different kind of pussy... a cat.

Despite the density of the suburbs a few miles away, we are rural and woodsy and can't see any of our neighbors until their house-lights reveal them after dark. In this setting, a large feral cat has been coming around the yard. A big marmalade-colored domestic longhair. Because it's so large, I'm guessing it's a Tom. He hangs out in the bushes and at the edges of the tree-lines watching me work in the yard. He used to be quite shy and cautious and I'd only catch sight of him hiding once or twice a month. Now he's "around" several times a week and he always shows up when I'm mowing or edging and he hears the noise. I'm guessing that only a previously-domesticated animal would tolerate or be attracted to such loud and unnatural noises. Perhaps he equates mechanical noise = people = food?

I haven't put any food out for him because I don't want to "bribe" him into coming around just for food and handouts. He doesn't have to submit to being a "pet" or being "owned", but if he'll come around to hang out and be a pal or friend, then he can adopt us if he chooses.

Exciting summer, huh?

Pubic Poll Results

2010-08-03T11:52:00.000-07:00

Ok... the Pubic Preference Poll is closed (actually, it's not, but I'm not gonna monitor it anymore). I think 400 votes is enough to base an unscientific poll on. Despite the stutter-start I had with the weird crossing of the boy/girl poll code, after editing it ran successfully as a single, uni-sex poll. Surprisingly, the percentages changed very little the entire time it has been running, with none varying more than a few percentage points either way. Here are the results (ignore the question here on the results page... on the question page it read correctly; "Your preference in your pubes?").

Hmm... by this poll, 92% of responders do some sort of lawn mowing, edging, bush trimming and garden maintenance. Wow!

Seen here before... sorry.

But this one hasn't.

So... 92% do their own gardening, eh?

Who says, "These are jobs Americans just won't do"?

Anyway...

... I'm just pleased that you'll all sleep better knowing this.

A Larger Family?

2010-07-30T11:29:00.000-07:00

No, we're not pregnant but an interesting turn of events is evolving. Rather safe, but also rather complicated. "Safe but complicated?"

What does that mean? Well, you see... Judy wants to move to California.

Is it safe? Hell yeah, unless getting fucked to death by Judy is considered unsafe. Naw, we have no problem with an additional fiend and bed-mate here on the West coast. The complications arise because there are children involved. Minor children with shared custody issues.

For all of the right reasons, Judy wants to move here, but much larger reasons may prevent her from doing so. Actually, the larger reasons are physically smaller... Judy's children. Judy and her ex have shared custody and she is convinced that her ex will not allow her to take their children out-of-state. Although I'm not a father yet, I can certainly understand his position.

According to Judy, her ex isn't the nicest of guys although I've never met the fellow as they were divorced shortly before we met her. I've heard a few one-sided stories from her that sound compelling, but in all fairness, they are one-sided.

Her cross-country move to California would be easier than most, with an experienced support group here to help her find an apartment, job, etc. She could stay with us or with Joe and Suzy nearly indefinitely, although with kids underfoot, we'd have to be more discrete in our presently-open, deviant behavior. There are a lot of positives to this move, but as selfish as I may be in hoping it happens, I would always default in favor of the children because unless it's a case where the father creates a negative environment or experience for them, children need their father in their young lives.

Although this news has sent a buzz through the four of us here, I honestly don't expect that she'll be able to make the move. In the event things change, you'll read about it here.

Pubic Preference Poll

2010-07-22T15:51:00.000-07:00

Polls are fun. They're interactive and can generate dialogue and comments, so I created two of them... one for guys and one for gals.

(The Guy/Gal poll had to be edited a day later. As observant commenters have pointed out, both polls show the identical results. For some reason, the poll shows the guy's results in both polls (it even says "Guys" in the "Gals" poll). Rather than start over, I dumped the defective one and from now on, we'll just consider it non-gender specific. Sorry).

Having been an aficionado of pornography all my adult life (ever since my first glimpse of Pinky's magazine), I can remember seeing dirty pictures and movies from back in the "hairy days". Back when men and women had natural and untrimmed pubic hair often so heavy, they made nearly every porn movie close-up look the same... it looked like two Brillo pads fighting over a hot dog.

Not so currently. In modern porn today, nearly everyone is smooth or has some sort of landing strip – guys too. We prefer being smooth and have been so for over 4 years... ever since we met Suzy. I'm curious about what others like and have asked five questions regarding your preference for pubic hair or not.

First, a legend of definitions for clarity:

Untrimmed – is exactly that... "natural", totally untouched.

Trimmed – is any sort of management even just to "even the ends".

Trimmed Short – means clippered to 1/2" or less.

Landing Strip – is any strip or shape left remaining.

Smooth – is exactly that... no hair, whether shaved or waxed.

Second, your vote is for your preference... what you'd prefer, not necessarily what you have. You don't have to be sporting any of the five choices to vote for it.

Ready? Let's try again.

Kyle Called...

2010-07-19T16:18:00.000-07:00

... and we had the talk.

Not the first thing, of course. He called on business matters and we addressed these by priority. As the conversation wound down, then we had the talk.

The one where he straightforwardly apologized for his tipsy wife's brazen advances on me at a recent company dinner party. The one where I barely accepted his apology before dismissing it as forgotten.

It transpired as simply as I just described... the entire exchange taking no more than 15 or 20 seconds. There was no mention of me trying to excuse Kristen's behavior because of her drinking, or his response that it wasn't the effects of the cocktails.

While both of us know exactly what occurred that night, we are also diplomats and gentlemen. With our personal thoughts and sentiments remaining our own, our verbal handshake closed the matter.

Business is good.

Pinky's Story - Pt 7

2010-07-12T16:02:00.000-07:00

Click here to go to the last chapter.

Click here to go to the beginning.

Learning To Be Nasty

Yes... I came!

OMG... my not-quite 12 year-old dick had just been blown, but I think my mind was blown even more. No... I know it was, because at that time, in my young mind I had no idea that things like cocksucking went on and as nasty and forbidden as it seemed at the time, I couldn't suppress the thrill and exhilaration of being part of such an act. It was sooo... nasty!

There were also the mixed elements of surprise at Pinky. My Pinky! (OMG... I can't believe you'd want to do such a thing!), and then guilt on my part for having helplessly defiled and spoiled her by depositing my youthful seed (probably evil and bad) into the formerly-innocent, but all-too-willing mouth of my darling, puppy-love crush. A total mindfuck for this young puppy.

Meanwhile, with my mind and cock totally blown away, for all practical purposes, physically I may as well have been vaporized by a thermonuclear device. Actually, it seemed like I was the thermonuclear device, going critical mass and detonating in Pinky's inexperienced, but exquisite young mouth.

What a load!

As the first surge of my first-ever, orally-summoned seed coursed through the shaft of my cock and spewed into Pinky's eager mouth, I remember nearly panicking at this (OMG, what have I done to her?) but any further thoughts of youthful nobility were vaporized in the heat and the light and I lost sight of her pretty red head bobbing up and down on my rigid cock as my eyes closed involuntarily and everything faded to white. A white-hot fade to white.

"Pi...!", I remember hearing myself cry out in breathless surprise, unable to utter her simple two-syllable name as she sucked the contents of my young balls through the shaft of my spurting cock (Notice at this point, my genitals are no longer referred to as my "boy-parts". Yes... a lot of things changed on this night).

I don't know how I remained upright as long as I did as I rocked and convulsed in mind-bending spasms until my legs gave way as if they were made of atomic ashes. I simply collapsed straight down in a heap, the last feeble spurt from my most-exquisitely spent cock streaked across Pinky's upturned face.

"Hmmph!" she protested my falling as best she could, her mouth full of my youthful, but copious load of semen. I think she was trying to say, "Hey!", but it sure didn't sound like it. (Tell ya what... you shout "Hey" with your mouth closed, then let me know how you'd spell it, ok?)

It's a good thing I was on the floor because I had little motor control as large, random tremors and spasms coursed through me and probably made my young, lanky body twitch and jerk like a string puppet operated by a drunk. I looked at her through my fog and tried to comprehend what the heck, "Hmmph!", could possibly mean.

I watched as she made a look of concentration for a few seconds before she made a swallowing motion. She thought for a second before deciding with a satisfied smack of her lips and said, "That wasn't so bad", as if she had expected it to be. As for myself, and after that... I didn't know what to expect!

"OMG... I'm sorry, I'm so sorry!", I blurted and I really was, but I was also soaring higher than I'd ever flown and before she could respond to my apologies, I also couldn't help but ask her, "Did you swallow that?"

"Uh huh", she smiled proudly, beaming with satisfaction, her pink lips still glistening with the results of her brief efforts.

In all of my short life, watching and feeling my young cock as it spewed gobs of sticky sperm into Pinky's warm, wet mouth had to have been the most shocking, the most filthy, the most depraved act of lasciviousness ever performed in the history of the planet, and for this, Pinky and I were certain to be struck down by cruel bolts of avenging lightning.

Yes, it was shocking, yes it was filthy and depraved... and yes it was also the most exciting thing ever performed in the history of the planet! My adolescent world was changed.

"What'd it taste like?", I asked, still glowing in the physical ecstasy and mental euphoria. I wanted to know a lot more about all such shocking, filthy, depraved and lascivious acts.

She rolled her eyes up in thought as she tried to associate a taste to my teenage sperm. "Uh... I'm not sure.", and shrugged her shoulders. "There's not much taste", she mused before deciding, "Nuthin', really."

"Nuthin'?", I asked, not sure of what to believe, having never sampled (or even thought of sampling) my own sperm (or any one else's, but this came (no pun intended), years later).

"Mmm...", she thought, considering. "I like the texture really. Mmm... it's smooth and slick. I think I like it. It feels good." She paused and thought. "Although, maybe it is a little...", she said questioningly as she concentrated, "... bitter, I guess. I dunno... you taste.", as she bent down to kiss me.

"Taste?", I exclaimed mentally, initially disgusted by the thought of cum in her mouth, on her lips, on her breath... but I didn't resist. Until now, I had never even thought of tasting my own cum, but at that moment, I strangely wanted nothing more than to taste my own youthful semen that was still slick and shiny on my baby-sitter's lips.

"She's gonna kiss me!", I suddenly realized as her face approached mine. I had never kissed a girl before, romantically or otherwise, and I didn't know much about romance anyway, so I just closed my eyes and puckered up as if I were waiting for my mother to kiss me.

"Nooo... ya dummy! Open your mouth. Just a little, though."

"What?", I asked in total bewilderment. "Open my mouth?"

"Just relax!", she chided, sounding impatient

"Relax?" How come girls are so hard to understand?

Pinky thought for exactly two and a half seconds before saying, "Mikey... just do what I do, ok?"

"Huh? Yeah... sure", I shrugged, trusting my Pinky.

Canting her head slightly sideways, Pinky leaned forward and pressed her full, wet lips against mine. I was amazed at how well our lips fit together. Oh my... nothing like kissing my mother. Not at all! To my further surprise, seconds later, Pinky began to slowly part her lips... ever-so-slightly at first, and then slightly more... then slightly more, until it was enough for her stealthy, devious, warm, wet tongue to blow my mind by entering my mouth to explore!

Although I was initially focused on tasting my own cum, Pinky's invading tongue, her incredibly intimate and erotic, probing wet kiss electrified my body and mind and any sperm taste-test was instantly forgotten. OMG!

Her serpent-like tongue darted and danced gently across my teeth and tongue like a fencer. Teasing, feinting, a lunge, a parry, seeking me out, then quickly withdrawing. My head was spinning. Our breath, saliva and tastes had mixed and blended and kissing seemed so intimate. When she finally broke the kiss - my first - I was dizzy and there was buzzing in my ears.

"Well?", she questioned, looking me in the eyes.

She was actually asking me about the taste of cum, but after that kiss I was on an entirely different plane and said breathlessly, "Let's do that again!", and I closed my eyes and tilted my head up to kiss like she had just done.

She giggled at me posed that way and said, "You're funny".

Annoyed, I glared at her and said indignantly, "I am not. Why do you always come up with the strangest stuff? How am I funny? I didn't say a thing except, 'Let's do it again'. What's so funny about that?"

Ignoring my mood-changing ire, she wisely kept me on track and asked, "You liked that? The kiss, I mean?", evidently quite pleased with my reaction. "We're always wondering what a good kisser is like.", referring to the group of her girlfriends who seem so consumed with learning about sex. "We've, uhh... practiced kissing each other...", she confessed, hesitating, "... but we still don't know if we're any good or not." Perking back up just as quickly, she asked, "Am I a good kisser? Did you really like that?"

"Yes I did. A lot", I replied with conviction and forgot that I was annoyed.

"Cool! You really did", she said, beaming with pride.

"Yeah... now that I know what to expect, I want to do it again."

"Yeah... I liked it too. Ok, we'll kiss some more, if... uhm... afterwards, I can suck on you again."

"After what just happened?"

"Yeah... now that I know what to expect, I want to do it again too."

Thus continued my sex education.

On this night, we both learned how incredibly erotic kissing is. We spent a lot of time kissing but most of it afterwards... after she sucked me off again. Well, we started out kissing (rather, learning to kiss), but in minutes my young cock grew so hard it hurt, seemingly not having enough skin to stretch over its straining length. My pink intruder caused the kissing lessons to be postponed as Pinky welcomed this opportunity to practice her oral skills on me again.

This time took more time. We were both learning... and enjoying. Pinky tried all sorts of techniques while learning how to suck on a penis. During her oral explorations Pinky explained that what she was doing is called a "blow job", which I thought was a strange name because she didn't really blow on me, right? When I asked her about this, she didn't know either, but she did give me another BJ (I also learned that BJ is another word for blow job... kinda cool this new language). As you know, the first one took all of a minute, tops, but this one lasted much longer. There was more time, more learning, more questions, more answers and eventually more cum. However... as we had both said only minutes earlier, this time we both knew what to expect.

I was lying on my back on the floor of the game-room. Pinky hovered above me, trying many different positions and angles. For some time she tried everything she thought I'd like (which I did). For my part, I lasted much longer this time because I knew now to direct her to slow or stop until I had better control. After 15 minutes of exploring, she finally settled into the classic and time-honored – you-don't-hafta-know-anything, or have any experience, just don't stop! – head-bobbing, blow job.

My control faded and I grew closer and closer to cumming as I watched her glistening pink lips gliding off and onto the flared head of my cock. Pinky was breathing hard and making small mewling and moaning noises and she was making sloppy wet noises with her mouth on my cock. OMG... this was so nasty!

I watched her as she watched me. She pulled off my rigid staff long enough to say, "I wanna see your face", before enveloping me in her mouth again. I wasn't sure what she meant, but I didn't give it much thought as I watched her watching me as my pending release got closer and closer...

"Pinky", I cautioned.

"Mmm, hummph", came her reply.

... and closer

Ten seconds later, "I mean it"

"Mmm, hmmph", this time nodding her head yes in acknowledgment.

... closer...

"Oh Pink... You're gonna make me... I'm gonna...", I groaned.

"Yesph!", came a spitty, wet encouragement.

"I'm gonna...

"Yesph!", she was nearly as excited as I was.

"I'm gonna... I'm gonna... Oh Pink..."

I did.

I tried to watch her face watching me, but the searing white heat of orgasm obliterated me, the room, the neighborhood and everything else in a 5-mile radius. Everything.

I couldn't think again for several minutes, but if I could have, I might have thought that a wet, sloppy blow job was the nastiest thing a girl could possibly do to me. Even if I had thought that, the thought would have lasted for only a minute, because what Pinky did next was even more nasty.

Jump to Pt - 8

4th Blogiversary

2010-07-03T16:06:00.000-07:00

THE YEAR IN REVIEW

Absolutely incredible, isn't it? Hard to believe it has been 4 years since Shared Cindy was first launched. It seems like half that amount of time. So much has happened along the way as we've evolved into a quieter, less-gonzo lifestyle, now even considering children.

Before I review the year, I have to note the passing of several of my favorite blogs. If you've followed this blog for any length of time, you already know all about "Sharing Dee", this writer's initial motivation to blog, but after four years of championing my inspiration, I'll forgo yet another history lesson.

I miss "1000 Words", a site run by a very attractive gal who used to post self-pictures under the premise of, "A picture is worth 1000 words". I agree and that's why I miss her. "Bacon and Lettuce" are conspicuously absent even after a second attempt in "B & C part deux". "Hot Wife Couple" with Jeff and Jamie are no longer around as well as "Married Exploits" with Odysseus and Penelope, although O&P having a baby is an understandible life-changing experience. "Sexy Duet" by Mr & Mrs SD in Australia are gone too as well as, "Dee's Little Mike Stories", written by Mike, one of Dee's regular lovers (of "Sharing Dee"). Sigh... we'll miss all of you.

My own stats have fallen off drastically in the last two years, down by 75% from the lofty highs of over 4,200 page loads a day in late '07, to only about 1,000 per day presently.

I really can't complain because even 1,000 hits per day was beyond my wildest expectations when I first started, but with fewer posts and fewer pictures here, this is to be expected. (The picture on the left is from Joe and Dee giving me encouragement. With that endorsement, that picture and the link from Sharing Dee, my counter spun to a dizzying 300 hits in a single day and the rest is history).

As we break the tape ending our 4th year and begin lap number 5, this will be my 376th post, which has generated over 1.5 million hits, a staggering surprise for a totally non-commercial enterprise.

OK... now to reprise the better postings from last year. In July of last year, I began with an "Ask Mike", a on-and-off again column that has proven surprisingly popular where I answer readers' e-mailed questions. This post was to answer the question, "Have I ever had a secret sexual relationship?". Well... sort of. Not a secret from any lover I was with (but probably what the reader was wondering), but a secret from Mona's very protective older brother, Derek, who was also one of my best friends at the time. He knows about us now and is cool with it and better yet... Mona's orbits have managed to cross our own and on occasion, she has re-entered my life again (and Cindy's), and this story needs to be told also.

Next, is the 20th chapter of "Judy's Story", which is rather heavy in my oral attentions to Cindy ("Happiness is a wet face"). Skipping a few marginal posts, and in response to another reader we come to "The Nastiest Thing I've Ever Done", which may or not be true, but it was a rather nasty interlude. I'll let you decide. Next comes a list of questions from the Too Much Information blog, a "TMI Tuesday on Saturday" post asking about first orgasms, both seen and experienced. In this post, I wind up mentioning Pinky more than once and it was then I decided to save the info about Pinky for what later would become another series and is still ongoing.

August began with a popular post called, "Pussyblogging Wednesday", a personal variation of Cockblogging Wednesday, wherein I show several shots of Cindy and other delicious looking pussies found on the Internet. Yummy!

Yeah... yummy is right!

The next post generated a lot of traffic and several comments about "Holding Hands". It probably sounded corny to all the horndogs who just want to read the wet parts, but this post was popular nevertheless. Next came a whimsical muse spun after a reader urged me to "run for public office" (snort) Yeah, sure. So I ran with it and pretended to run for President. Within this imaginary scenario, I refer to Cindy as, "The First Hot Wife", rather than the First Lady. Fun.

Skipping another "Judy's Story" (you can go to the beginning and read them all), September had an accounting of our third trip to Mexico, "Aventura Mexicana III", where all protocol of a "normal" gay Cabaret broke down after Julio and Cindy danced together until the entire floor of other dancers cleared to watch them. Then Julio, a very skilled dancer in his own right, began giving the entire place ballroom dancing lessons! What a riot! Since I spent most of September goofing off, then making excuses, September was pretty slim pickin's.

In October, I posted a HNT topless picture of Cindy showing her sexy tan lines. Mmmm. Skipping another entry about Judy, I next answered a reader who asked, "How Do We Do It?" No, not sex, but how do we stay so compatible, so comfortable? We'll skip the post about Having Babies and jump to "In Search Of An Orgy", where the four of us went to New York and then to Florida to party with a dozen of our like-minded fiends (not misspelled). OMG... we were lucky to survive!

Skipping another Judy chapter, in November I did a "TMI Tuesday on Thursday", where I answered questions about Poly relationships, issues of trust and rules of disclosure. Next came a question from Midwestern City Boy who asked me if I ever get "Jealous of Joe"? I explained our evolution and how I'm surprisingly not jealous of anyone, but then the three of us, then the four of us do have an unusual and unusually stable relationship. Life is good. Next was "Questions about Joe and Suzy", spurred by the earlier "Jealous of Joe" post and the changes that have occurred from their moving out on their own and us considering children, etc.

December began with the last entry of Judy's Story, followed by "Judy's Story - Epilogue", in which I try to tie off any loose ends from the original story. I hope I did. Next comes more details of our trip to NY and FL in, "Tales from the Orgy", which is exactly what it is... quite nasty if I say so myself. Next, comes the strange title, "Parties, Aliens and Nightshirts", which describes an evening that began with a party, then segued into an evening together with Joe and Suzy in which the girls bought us all matching flannel nightshirts and we watched a marginal alien movie. I close the year with "Happy New Year" and a couple of pictures. One is a HNT of the sunburn poor Katy suffered in Florida and a self-pic for a Cockblogging Wednesday.

January begins still looking back at our Florida trip with a HNT pic of some naughty women. Next came another CBW pic. It's an Internet download, but way better than any of mine. Woof!

Yeah... woof!

February began with a rather long and pensive muse about us considering starting a family called "Thinking Out Loud", which is exactly what I was doing. Despite the subject matter and no sex or pictures, it generated 18 comments, the largest amount for the entire year. Next is about Cindy and her "Her Quest for Cum", in which she suck seeds in sucking seed. Spelling aside... Cindy is a very naughty girl. Next has me beginning, "Pinky's Story", my second, full-length "serial" post. For new readers, Pinky was my 17 year-old babysitter and together, we embarked upon a journey of sexual discovery just days before my 12th birthday. A sweet story yet unfinished.

Moving into March, there were several more installments of Pinky's Story which we'll skip before a rare post from Cindy, who reacts somewhat emotionally about Pinky, me and our mutual defloration. Yeah... Cindy loves me.

April begins with, "Judy's Here", which documents a visit from Judy of "Judy's Story". It was a conspiracy among the girls as I was totally surprised and ambushed while in the shower! It was a very pleasant reunion in which Joe and Suzy played. Then comes a TMI where I answer questions about underwear, foreplay and orgasms. In answering another question from a reader, I try to describe, "What's an Orgy Like?" Kinda fun, but I had to think about it for a while... having been instructed to leave out "all the wild and crazy sex".

In May, in a follow-up post, I answered, "Orgy Questions", generated from the previous post about What an Orgy Like?. "Risky Business" follows and describes a tenuous situation I got into while on the road with a good client and friend and his stunning and very frisky wife. Although I knew exactly what I was going to do, I created a "Risky Business Poll" and the "Poll Results" just for fun. What would you do?

June begins with several excuses for my lack of posts (vacation, work, sheer laziness, writer's block), and then with no small irony, I learn that Shared Cindy has been voted a surprising "Best of the Web" award. This is so close to recent reading (only one post farther down), I mention and link it here only to have something to point out in June.

On this subject, I must also eat a serving of Humble Pie... or Crow if you'd rather. Why? Because I displayed a rather insensitive lack of appreciation for this recent recognition, both to the recognizer and to Shared Cindy's readers, without whom this blog would not exist. I sounded skeptical... even cynical at the thought of being the, "Best of the Web", when I should have been more gracious and accepted it without question.

My apologies to Jerry at Sex Forums for not wholly accepting his and his editor's generosity at face value and most of all, to all of our readers over the last four years who have actually made this award possible...

... no readers, no blog.

OK... that's our 4th and now-traditional "Anniversary Page", summing up the year. Enjoy lots of links at your fingertips and feel free to comment on any of the older posts. Hmm... maybe this lengthy post signifies the end of of my writer's block? At any rate, our readers have a whole year of browsing within a single post. With this being done, we're going to the beach and will celebrate the anniversary of our country's founding and get back to completing "Pinky's Story".

Thanks to everyone!

"Best Of The Web"?

2010-06-29T15:49:00.000-07:00

Wow... here I am in the middle of my longest writing drought ever and I get informed via e-mail that this blog, Shared Cindy has won a "Best of the Web" award. Go figure.

I don't know much about it except that a very nice fellow named Jerry sent me a long e-mail explaining in part...

"Last fall our editors started putting together a program that would spotlight the best adult-themed web publishers for our members. We began scouring the web for the best, finest, funniest, and most informative adult sites and blogs. I'm happy to inform you that your site Shared Cindy was chosen by our Editors to represent the very Best the Web has to offer."

Gosh, how very nice of them but their editors think that Shared Cindy represents, "... the very Best the Web has to offer"?

Hmm... I'm not so sure of that, but thanks just the same.

The letter was sent along with the banner that links to the Best Sex Forum and the 2010 Editors Best List who issued the award. Without questioning their editors' selection but for their unsolicited generosity, please click the award banner in the sidebar and the active links in this post and give 'em a look. You may want to join, but...

"Best of the Web?"

I'm quite flattered, but c'mon.

Missing In Action

2010-06-22T17:14:00.000-07:00

I have to apologize for my lack of postings lately (although I've frequently advised other bloggers, especially newbies, not to feel pressured to write or produce because technically, bloggers don't owe their readers anything, but...). I guess because I am apologizing, I strongly suspect that my words to other bloggers would fall under the, "Here, take my advice... I don't", category.

Most of my absence is explainable and began last month with our two week vacation to Mexico. OK, Mike... that explains the first two weeks, but not the dearth of posts since our return. This too might be explained away by my nearly desperate efforts at catching up on things neglected during our extended vacation – mainly work-related trips and tasks. These took time and for the most part, I'm fairly caught up.

Finally, after all the excuses, the real truth of the matter is, I have a definite case of Writer's Block. I am lacking in inspiration and motivation to the point of high frustration.

No... I've not so far gone that I'm kicking the computer, but it's still frustrating as hell.

Even with the already-started "Pinky's Story" and all of the wonderful memories of that magical summer still resident in my brain since adolescence, I can't seem to pick up the thread to resume! WTF? This should be easy, right?

Mike, you know the story... just write it down!

Right?

Evidently not. Almost every day I open a new post to resume what should be a very easy chapter to write, following the last installment of "Pinky's Story", in which had my mind and dick blown literally, by my first teenaged lover.

This should be easy, but for some reason, it's not. I can't explain it but I just don't have the juice. I know I'll get it back, I just don't know when.

Just don't give up on me, please.

"I'll be back."

Where Have We Been?

2010-06-12T15:33:00.000-07:00

We went on another adventure. This time to both coasts of Mexico. We came back sooo relaxed we felt melted, by sun, sex and the tropics. It's a good thing that heartbeat and breathing are involuntary bodily functions, because if I had to consciously think about anything, like breathing... I'd have suffocated.

For the first time ever, I took two consecutive weeks off (10 days on paper but it was just over two weeks, strategically positioned and extended by Memorial Day). This vacation was made even more relaxing than ever because I also left all of my usual electronic props and addictions home. I purposefully took no phone, no computer, no means of getting sucked back into the exciting whirlwind of my job (or this blog, sorry). The only problem with this total detachment was, after unwinding to the point where I had all the speed and strength of a stoned jellyfish, I returned home and was rudely slammed into the glaring, harsh reality of things that don't normally allow me to be so lazy.

Tuesday, my first day back was very difficult... sifting through hundreds of e-mails and voice mails, sorting them out by priority and returning calls. One of these priorities had me back on a plane the very next day to put out a fire in Texas that developed while I was gone. A fire that, with a little vision, foresight and initiative could have easily been prevented. I know... whine, snivel, bitch.

I shouldn't bitch. My being necessary adds to job security. Actually, I'm glad I felt the difficulty of returning from a vacation. It's a good reminder to appreciate what I have... a job to vacation from and return to. I don't take my good fortune for granted, but Tuesday and Wednesday were tough. OK... enough whining.

So... where'd we go and what did we do?

As briefly as I can (which means I have to leave out all the sex), we first went to the Yucatan Peninsula and Cancun for the first time. Very nice weather and beautiful water and beaches, but Hotel Row is a bit too glitzy for my tastes. It's absolutely perfect for honeymooners and hotel tourists but we prefer a slower pace and local color. We did the tourist things too, like exploring the Mayan ruins at Chitzen Itza (quite a climb!) and a few days later we toured the ruins at Tulum... twice. The second time was early the next morning.

Tip: When visiting Tulum, go early in the morning or late in the day. The bustle and press of passengers from several cruise ships making their hurried drive-by's and the dozens of tour-buses are nearly carnival and takes away much of the ruins' primitive and ancient air, and uncluttered pictures are nearly impossible (No offense to tour-bus or cruise ship passengers... I'm just offering a traffic advisory).

After four days in Cancun we moved our digs to the island of Cozumel for the most breathtaking snorkeling I've ever seen and where I spent so much time floating around, mesmerized by the sparkling water and colorful fish, I got the backs of my knees painfully sunburned. This made freestyle sex later that night a bit painful and my comfortable positions were limited, but we made do.

By the end of the week we were relaxed and had sufficient base-coat tans to endure another week of sun, so we went on to Puerto Vallarta on the Pacific coast to haunt all of our usual haunts. Several good stories came out of this stay and will be told later. We also mixed a little business with pleasure this time. All four of us are considering investing in property there, so we spent a day and a half talking to builders and developers and even more time talking to local ex-patriots who have made the investments before us. We'll talk to realtors after we've educated ourselves and are ready to shop. You can find bargains, but for the most part, prices are already bordering on ridiculous.

The big resort chains are buying up all the future-prime locations, driving all local real estate prices up. Future-prime? Right now, many of these future-prime parcels and properties are merely primitive jungle right down to the beaches, but speculators are optimistic that development will eventually reach their beach. Everything is getting expensive fast, but we're all still interested. Who knows?

OK... that's that. That's where we've been and some of what we've done. Because this is a sex blog, I'm aware that you didn't cruise by to read a boring travel journal... instead seeking an accounting of our latest aventuras and our recent evening at Julio's cabaret.

Sorry... you get the boring travel journal today. Historias de la Aventuras y de Julio will follow soon, but right now I'm way overdue in the continuation of Pinky's Story.

Priorities, remember?

Another Adventure

2010-06-07T17:28:00.000-07:00

Whew! Now that was a vacation!

Yeah... we've been playing hooky longer than we ever have since moving to CA. You'll get a full report eventually, but I'm just checking in now as a sign of life. An accounting of our trip may take a few days as I am now impossibly behind in work, the yard, the house, Pinky's Story and just about everything else we neglected while out playing.

Like Arnold sez... "I'll be back."

Masturbation Month

2010-05-19T11:01:00.000-07:00

OMG... I just realized that this is Masturbation Month! (Gasp!!! Like somehow in May, we all suddenly realize how neglected this issue has been and we'll all make it a point to do the opposite of Lent and vow to overindulge for 30 days?) WTF?

(Yeah... but ya gotta admit,

it sounds way better then Lent).

Just for fun, browse back to April of '07, for a post where I questioned both the origin and meaning of "Cockblogging" as in "Cockblogging Wednesday". Just as meaningless as that thought, I compiled and posted a list of masturbatory euphemisms, without which knowing, you would not be able to sleep tonight.

There... I've done my civic duty for the day.

We now return you to the regularly scheduled program

Pinky's Story - Pt 6

2010-05-16T18:02:00.000-07:00

Click here to go to the last chapter.

Click here to go to the beginning.

Reunion

For two tortuous weeks I literally squirmed in anticipation of our next evening together and I shook hands with Mr. Happy several times a day, all-the-while recalling in every detail how Pinky had done the same thing for me, and how now it was ok to make myself squirt and it was a normal thing to do.

But I desperately ached for Pinky.

As far as my degree of separation anxiety, you've got to consider that throughout our separation, Pinky and I were totally incommunicado. We lived in different neighborhoods, went to different schools and all of this was before every school-kid had a computer, the Internet, dial-up porn and sit-on-my-Facebook. There were no cell phones or texting yet either. I'm not even certain if the term "separation anxiety" had been coined yet, but that's certainly what I had.

Our first reunion came an agonizing two weeks later, the next time I "needed sitting". Pinky's dad dropped her off and while my parents were upstairs getting ready to go, Pinky excitedly took something out of her backpack to show me. It was some porn magazine the girls at school had been sharing. That magazine became our pornographic Kama Sutra instruction book in our mutual sexual education, although at the time, I had no idea people did these kinds of things and while they all were incredibly erotic, my naiveté also found them hard to believe. But I could learn.

I was literally trembling in excitement as my folks finally left for somewhere in The City at 5 o'clock, to return by midnight. Yippie! Who cares where they went as long as the left us alone? Pinky was as excited as I was. She was wet and I was hard and I expected to take off our clothes as soon as they left, but Pinky wisely suggested we wait a few minutes in case they forgot something. Being the smart and intuitive girl that she is, we were innocently playing Parchesi on the floor when within five minutes, my mom burst back in suddenly to get umbrellas as it had started raining. "How cute", she said when she saw us. "I'm so glad you guys get along so well", and left again. Whew, that was close and yeah... we do get along well. Thanks.

This time, no sooner than they had driven off, we couldn't resist any longer and ran upstairs. As we did the last time, we put a movie on to give us time to dress and an alibi for being upstairs in case they came home early (and hopefully we'd hear them). As we began to frantically remove our clothes, Pinky said breathlessly, "I'm so wet!"

As I slid down my jeans, my cock stuck out at a 45 degree angle. "I'm so hard!", I replied. Pinky now wore only just a beaming smile as she looked down proudly at my boy/man erection. Neither one of us had the slightest trace of modesty or reservation at being nude together and after this night, we would be nude together more often than clothed.

"Mikey, you won't believe this stuff", she said excitedly as she quickly opened the dirty magazine. She was right... I was amazed at the sight of nude men and women, even women and women in all sorts of sexual acts and positions.

"Where did you get this?", I asked incredulously. I had no idea this kind of stuff was being done. There were pictures of men licking wet girl parts, and the women were sucking on hard boy parts. Ewww. No way... that's gross!

As I paged through the dog-eared magazine, all of the boy parts seemed enormous to this 12 year old. I also noticed that except for the girls with bleached hair, the hair color of their girl parts seemed to match the hair on their head... just like Pinky. Wow... they come in flavors! Cool. I'd never thought about it.

Other pictures showed men and women making babies in all sorts of crazy positions. Great big, boy parts going in and out of wet, pink girl parts. I understood that part of it from school and it seemed fairly normal to me in a clinical sense, but seeing pictures of people actually doing it and having so much fun rocked me and my own boy part got even harder and demanded that I stroke it, so I did.

Picture after pornographic picture assailed my brain and was instantly memorized for many future masturbatory fantasies. Wow... even though the concept of putting my face and tongue deep in a girl's wet parts was very new and seemed totally weird, I now wanted to do all of the perverse things they were doing in the magazine. "Pinky!", I exhaled in a swoon.

"I know! I know!", she affirmed while rubbing her hands all around her heavy round boobies (that's what she calls them). I was beginning to detect her scent. Pinky. In my mind forever.

"Where did you get this?", I repeated. For some reason, this seemed important to me at the time.

"One of the girls at school got it somewhere. She won't say but I think she swiped it from her dad. We've been taking turns borrowing it all week and I had a hard time keeping it over the weekend but I just had to show you. I love it. I like to look at them and pretend it's you and me and make myself cum."

"Come where?"

"Nooo... you silly! Not come like in "come here"... Cum, as in orgasm, climax, like when you squirt. The white stuff is called cum and the wonderful feeling you get when you cum is called cumming."

Wow, Pinky is so smart...

... but how does she know all this stuff?

"Do you mean that when you uh... cum, you feel like I do when I squirt, only you don't squirt?"

"Exactly. We both came two weeks ago. You came three times."

"Well I wanna cum again." I said like a man who knows what he wants.

"Me too!", she exclaimed.

"What are we gonna do this time?" I asked like a kid, because I was a kid.

"I wanna try this!", she said as she held up the magazine to a picture that had been folded open many times. "This is one of my favorites pictures and it makes me so wet!" as she held it up. "This is what I want to learn how to do next."

I was aghast at a sight similar to this one. It was of a woman letting a man's boy part squirt in her mouth! She was sucking on him while all of his white stuff came running out of her mouth!

Pinky!!!

"Eww... you wanna do this?", nearly repulsed by the sudden shock of the erotic image to my oh-so-young mind. "That's so... nasty!" I announced, but however repulsive or nasty I claimed it was, I couldn't tear my eyes away from it. Nor could I stop rubbing myself.

"Please?", she asked, looking me in the eyes. Her hand too was busy and her scent was intoxicating.

"But that's gross, Pinky! You want me to squirt my... stuff in your mouth? What if you die or something?"

At this, she burst out laughing. Wounded, I suddenly felt insecure and defensive and demanded to know what was so funny.

When she stopped laughing, she explained, "Aw... poor Mikey. I won't die." and giggled again. "Look at all these pictures. Do you think that all those ladies died afterwards? You're funny."

"I am not.", I pouted. "And it's still gross.", I said as my eyes were irresistibly drawn back to the gross picture of some guy shooting white stuff into a woman's mouth.

"It is not!", she corrected as she knelt down in front of me. "It looks soo sexy. Soo... soo... nasty. Yeah, you're right... nasty. It is nasty and that's why I like it. That's why I wanna do it." At this, she gently removed my stroking hand from my rigid shaft and replaced it with her own hand. Mmm... her hand. So small. So soft. So smo-o-o-oth.

Not now, Pinky... I'm trying to argue.

Just don't stop.

"Doesn't that picture look soo... nasty?", she asked, repeating herself for lack of a better word... and there wasn't. "Let me learn how to make you do that."

I stared at the picture, big brain against the little one. "Why would you wanna do that?", I asked, somehow disappointed to learn that Pinky was such a nasty girl and not yet knowing how glad I would be because she was.

"Look, Mikey. I think all the stuff in that book is mostly normal. Everybody in school wants to do all those things. That's all everybody talks about. Some say they already are doing it, but I'm not so sure. Mostly just bragging, I'll bet. Mostly what the girls talk about is, if they don't go all the way with a boy, then he'll want the girl to suck on him."

"I... I don't get it."

"I want to learn how... how to do it. I want to do it to you."

I was astounded by this information and I guess by the look on my face, she began to reassure me again, "It's all supposed to be totally normal, Mikey. Everyone old enough wants to do it... including me. I just don't know how. I've never done it before, but I really want to. Let me learn on you," she said, then giggled, "and I promise I won't die", and giggled again.

I barely heard her as I was thumbing through the coverless magazine seeing lots of other pictures, many with other women in various stages of doing the same thing. All of them looked natural and normal as they did what they were doing and they didn't seem at all afraid of dying. My goodness.

"Tell me if you like this.", Pinky asked and I broke away from the magazine long enough to see what she was going to do to me. I watched her take her small pink hand away from my steel-hard boy-part and push a large wad of spit from her mouth into her cupped hand. She squeezed it into a small fist, coating everything before encircling my throbbing staff with her wet, sticky hand.

The warm slickness of her hand hit me like a train. My hips bucked once involuntarily and I could only moan, "Pinky".

"See what I mean?", as she slowly began stroking me full length, wetting me entirely. I looked down. My own boy part looked incredibly erotic in her small hand... bigger than it had ever been. Big, hard, wet, angry. "Doesn't that feel so good?", she asked soothingly. OMG, I couldn't think to answer. I could barely breathe.

This wasn't like the last time. The last time we were exploring, we did it together and we were both rather unsure. This time it was different. This time things were moving much faster. Pinky had ideas of her own and was way ahead of me. I could only stand and endure. "Oh, Pinky."

As her hand began to dry and lose its ecstatic slickness, she automatically leaned over and let drool another large dollop of saliva, re-wetting her hand but leaving a long strand until she pushed more out with her tongue. Girls don't know how to spit right, my boyish brain vaguely noted. With a totally different tact, Pinky looked up at me innocently and said, "If it hurts, I'll stop.", she promised. "Just tell me to stop and I will. I promise."

"Huh? What hurts?", I tried to think, puzzled, struggling to process, barely hearing her. I looked down at her eager face, her mouth half-open, her lips pink and wet and only inches from my sticky, wet penis, all slick and shiny with her spit. "Stop?" I struggled in my fog, lost, as any remaining cognitive thinking going on in my big head had been suspended. All brain cell activity was now taking place down in my little head. Every neuron in my misplaced adolescent brain was focused and concentrated in the grip of her hand. "Stop what?" I just stood there looking stupid.

Five seconds into my brain-fade I heard a knowing, "I didn't think so." and she smiled confidently, only 17 but already an enchantress and proceeding well in her training of manipulating the opposite sex. Oh uh... the beginnings of that now-familiar tingling feeling started to begin somewhere deep.

"Pinky" I warned.

"Wouldn't it feel so much better where it is even warmer and wetter?", she cooed soothingly, selling me my first blow job. I stood there frozen, unthinking. My gawd...what a sorceress.

"Like in my mouth?", she coaxed. I looked down at her wet mouth with pink lips, her deft tongue licking them, helplessly understanding what she intended to do despite any of my thoughts of nobility towards her.

"Like the picture?", she whispered. I glanced back to the picture on the floor and I reeled in its sordid, forbidden nastiness and was hopelessly snared in her webs of enchantment. Wow... the picture!

"Until you squirt?", and I looked back and down just in time to see Pinky, while looking me right in the eyes, take the pink and bloated, helmeted head of my aching penis deep into her warm, wet mouth and close her lips around it.

"P... P... Pinky!" I gasped, still mentally slow and balking at the thought of my Pinky with a stiff penis in her mouth, but I wasn't slow or balking at being totally and completely captivated forever by the feeling. "She did it! She's sucking on me!", I screamed to myself, still unbelieving, frozen, not knowing what to do except... feel really nasty.

"Mmmm..." , a growling moan more like an animal, came from deep in her throat and these vibrations were transferred to me and amplified what I was feeling. "Mmmm...", she continued. OMG.

Pinky was now no longer the instructor or guide on this tour. She was off on her own... enjoying, exploring, soaring, learning. Moaning over and over with her eyes closed, she rocked and rolled her head around, her lips and tongue wetly exploring this wonderful new taste and texture in her mouth, making obscene sucking and slurping noises as she was thoroughly enjoying herself.

I was too... and at light speed! "Pinky...", I said with warning foreboding in my voice, the big head valiantly but vainly struggling for reason and control.

"Mmm... mmm."

"Pinky... uh... c'mon, stop a little."

"Mmm... mmm."

"Pink... you'd better stop. You're gonna make me squirt... uh... cum.", I corrected myself. Totally disregarding my warning, she began even more intense sucking and slurping, her lips against my sparse patch of pubic hair. With my view of her temporarily blocked, I glanced at the picture, totally aroused by it – it was no longer gross. Yes, it was a nasty picture, but it wasn't gross anymore. It was what we were doing right now! Holy shit! Now both heads were losing control. I tried to warn her one last time. "Pinky... I'm gonna..."

She stopped long enough to breathily blurt out, "Yes! Yes, I know you will. I want you to! I want you to squirt. I want you to cum. I want you to... yes, cum in my mouth!" and she frantically resumed her very first-ever cock sucking. "Mmm... slurp... mmm... slurp... mmm, Please, Mikey? Mmm... mmm. "Cum... just tell me... when you're... gonna cum.", she said in between bobs of her head.

"No, Pink, no... I'm gonna... I'm gonna... oh no... oh no... Pink... it's coming out of me! It's coming... I'm... I... I... I..."

... I came.

Jump to Pt 7

Risky Business Poll Results

2010-05-14T17:37:00.000-07:00

OK... the voting in the Risky Business Poll progressed faster than I thought it would and I've since removed it. I was actually surprised at how many voted for number 1, wanting us to go for it, but I guess it's easy for these voters to lose my job, lol. The poll started out pretty even between choices 1 and 4, but choice 1 has been inching ahead day-by-day and it appears to be the winning trend.

As for what will I/we do? You should know by now that I've already decided to opt out of another fuckbuddy relationship. The main reason is the obvious... business and pleasure to this degree seldom mix. Call me jaded if you like, but not even an encounter with 7 of 9 is worth jeopardizing my position.

Another reason is, while Cindy and I are seriously considering having a child, it would be foolish to cultivate yet another sexual relationship we would have to shortly curtail should we decide on parenthood.

One more reason you may not have considered... if we bring another couple into our circle, everyone in NY must know about them whether they party with them or not. This is an all-important rule we have had for years and is the main reason we are able to have unprotected, unworried and enjoyable bareback sex with any in our group. We almost blew this pact in Mexico a few years ago when Cindy, Suzy and I nearly bedded a Canadian couple. It was dumb and impulsive on our part, but the evening turned into a disaster and we learned our lesson and no longer stray easily.

Several commenters ventured that going ahead with a meet would be good blog-fodder. While this may be true, I already have so much to write about (like completing the next chapter of Pinky's Story) and others. With no shortage of writing material, I don't need to create an imaginary scenario to write about, nor risk my employment pursuing a real one to write about.

Sorry to disappoint, but my vote even before the poll was constructed, was a solid and unshakable number 4... I will politely decline.

A Risky Business Poll

2010-05-10T16:44:00.000-07:00

I know... I know... the next chapter of Pinky's Story is overdue, but I wanna do this poll first.

Regarding my Risky Business with Kristen and Kyle, I've received some interesting advice, ranging from taking Cindy with me and fucking them, to absolutely not.

How about taking the short poll in the sidebar? (completed and removed). I haven't done one in quite a while. I've made four choices and a paragraph from my imagination of someone whispering in my ear. Your whispers may be different.

1) Take Cindy along (If you wanna fuck them)

Even as clearly as Kristen made it to you the last time, and with Kyle's awareness of it, it's safer to meet them as a couple for dinner in a restaurant. There, Kristen can meet Cindy, sees you together and knows you are married. During dinner, everybody gets a look and a listen and if Kristen and Kyle are still serious, they'll certainly let you know.

2) Go alone (if you're thinking about it)

Proceed in business as you normally would. You may not see her the next time anyway. You can get away with a second visit if you play dumb, having forgotten your last encounter. If they're serious, they'll have to start over. Make them do the work.

3) Take your time (if you're worried about business)

If they let you know they want you and you're undecided, just tell them. They'll respect this, I'm sure. They should let you know them better and gain your confidence against the risk. If they truly want you, they'll wait until it's right. As far as business goes, Kyle has just as much to lose as you do, so the risk is equal. No one is at a disadvantage.

4) Politely decline (run, don't walk)

When speaking with Kyle, when this subject comes up again in any form, politely decline saying you're flattered, but "because of business", you can't accept their advances. "My contract has multiple morals and ethics clauses", or "That could be construed as a major conflict-of-interest", whatever. He's a businessman. He'll get the message.

OK... time to vote and only once, please.

Or if you have a solution of your own, leave a comment.

Risky Business

2010-05-07T17:19:00.000-07:00

As you know, I have been traveling more this year (and posting less because of it). This isn't a new assignment, just necessary with the upswing in business. Through this extra travel, a very interesting situation has developed with one of my company's clients. We'll call him Kyle and I do a lot of business with him.

Kyle is late 30's, six feet tall, sandy-brown hair and blue eyes. He's a rainmaker with this client and my main interface with this major account. In the business arena, he is well-dressed and polished and is on the fast track for greater things. He's assertive in his business dealings, but with a gentle demeanor that tempers any disagreements. I know... I negotiate with him.

After work he's a regular guy, and Canadian weather allowing, wears jeans or Dockers, polo or t-shirts, deck shoes or sandals. Very relaxed. After jousting all day in meetings over contract language, we've also had after-hour dinners together and have spent several evenings relaxing in the hotel lobby bar, talking shop.

His office is located in Canada in a major business-hub that shall go unnamed. In the course of business, I was invited to represent my company at a large company dinner party to celebrate a senior officer's retirement. I arrived the day before so Kyle and I could clear up some small stuff that was cluttering up business before changing clothes at the hotel and going to the party.

The RSVP said "Cocktail Attire", so back at the hotel, I doffed my suit and tie and donned a black, mock-turtle pullover and a silver-gray sportcoat. Comfy.

The dinner was being served in one of the hotel's larger meeting rooms. There I met his very attractive wife, Kristen. Attractive is an understatement, she is absolutely stunning, looking very much like Jeri Ryan as the former-Borg and Seven of Nine character in one of the Star Trek series (Privately, I call her Six of Nine, yum). Speaking of nines, this woman is a 9, and that's saying something because I've already stated here several times... I don't give 10's to anyone or anything (but neither do I give 1's). But I digress.

Kind of tall at 5'9", short blonde hair, mesmerizing blue eyes with full, pouty and very kissable lips. OMG! She's in great shape, toned, trim and with large breasticles. I don't know bra sizes so well, but I'd guess 38's. At least. These trophies give way to a tiny wasp-like waist flaring to fully-rounded hips and ass. All of this sits atop legs that won't quit. In a word... voluptuous.

During the retirement dinner, she sat between us and proved to be just like her husband, intelligent, well-read and witty and the small-talk amongst us was lively and upbeat. We endured the droning speeches and the obligatory gold watch and plaque presentation while chafing to move to the lobby bar and outside of the organized party to relax over cocktails.

Finally, seated in an Irish pub very well done in oak, leather, Kelly green and dim lights, we ordered drinks and settled into conversations outside of business. I am a professional flirt and have made a lot of friends that way, but since this stunning blonde is the wife of a very important client, I was my animated self, but never went even close to a true flirtation.

Kristen, however, was ever the flirt and flirted with both of us equally and with each successive cocktail, she became more and more daring in her innuendoes and double-entendres. At one point, Kyle had to chide her gently, "Kristen, what is Mike to think of you on your first meeting, you naughty girl?"

Looking at me with one eyebrow raised as if assessing me like a roast in the market, she replied, "I think Mr. Mike can take it, can't you Mr. Mike?" She was slightly tipsy, but very, very cute. "I think he's a good sport."

I shrugged and said, "Aw... it's all in fun, Kyle.", softening his already gentle statement. "No harm done. I'm glad Kristen feels relaxed enough to be herself."

"There, you see Kyle? Besides being a good sport, he's noble too. I like your friend Mr. Mike." and at that, I felt her stockinged foot atop my black cap-toes. Uh oh.

I "unconsciously" shifted my feet to allow her to have "accidently" placed hers atop mine, but within seconds, the slick nylon of her hose-clad feet were again gently polishing my shoes. Uh oh, some more.

I didn't want to offend her by moving them again, so I nonchalantly had a sip of my single-malt while consciously avoiding eye contact with her (which in my mind would have acknowledged her advances) as I wondered how I was gonna get out of this.

Somewhat embarrassed at her boldness and not knowing his wife was playing footsie at the same table, Kyle strategically finished his drink, looked at his watch and suggested to his wife, "It's getting late. Maybe we should go up to the room?"

To help Kyle have his way (and get me out of this situation), I yawned and stretched and said, "Yeah... I'd better head up too. I have an early flight in the morning."

"Aw... what a bunch of party-poopers.", she responded. Then said to me, "You wanna come up for a drink?"

I motioned to my glass and said, "Thanks, but with this one, I do believe I've had enough.", and waved for the check.

At this, her assertiveness wilted and she acquiesced to her husband's desire to go. Kyle stood up behind her and held her wrap for her to slide into. Kristen couldn't see him wink at me in thanks for backing his play. I stood up to shake Kyle's hand, then taking hers I said, "It was very nice meeting you, Kristen. I hope to see you again. I also have to tell you how nice you look. Kyle is a lucky man."

She blushed at this, looked up over her shoulder at Kyle and said, "See what a nice man Mr. Mike is, Kyle? The next time he's in town, can we have him for dinner?"

Kyle said sure and nodded in approval and I said, "That's very nice of you. I look forward to it."

Kyle, who had been standing for several seconds holding her wrap, was wondering why she hadn't stood up yet. "What's wrong, Hon?"

"I can't find my shoe.", as she squirmed in her seat, searching the floor beneath the table with her foot. "Ah... there it is.", and she stood up a few seconds later. Kyle draped her wrap over her shoulders.

We said our goodbyes and they headed to the elevator arm-in-arm. Whew! I thought as I sank back into the overstuffed cushion. That was close. I wonder what Kyle will say about it? I thought as I sipped the last of my whiskey, enjoying it's soothing warmth and aroma.

Fast-forward to the next morning where I'm sitting at the gate, minutes from boarding my plane when Kyle calls my cell. We chatted briefly about business, then he thanked me for my presence at the dinner before he broke into a half-apology for Kristen. "Hey buddy... sorry about Kristen last night. She can get carried away sometimes."

"Aw, c'mon, Kyle. She was relaxed and enjoying herself. It was harmless and her flirting was kind of good for my ego. I didn't mind."

"Yeah, well... she really does fancy you."

"Again, I'm flattered, but it must have been the cocktails."

"I'm not so sure. I just have to warn you... she usually gets what she wants."

"With her looks and intellect, I'm not surprised", I answered carefully, not knowing what else to say or where this conversation was going. Fortunately the boarding announcement came loudly over the intercom with perfect timing and I was able to gratefully break off the conversation. Whew!

OK... end of story. No... end of the chapter because I still have to go back to Canada and I still have to do business with Kyle, which means that I still have to go to their house for dinner. Yikes! I can't help recalling her exact words to Kyle which were, "The next time he's in town, can we have him for dinner?" I have the distinct feeling that I'm the dinner. Especially after Kyle's cryptic warning of, "She usually gets what she wants."

Hmmm... scary. Reminds me of Cindy.

Later, when I told Cindy about the evening, she giggled and said, "What's the problem, husband? If you don't want to fuck them by yourself, then the next time you go to see them, take me with you. We'll both be the dinner."

No, my darling slut wife. Thanks for your delightful answer but I'm not so sure. Yes, I'm totally enamored with Kristen and I'd fuck her 'till her nose bleeds, but... it's just too sensitive. Too close to business. Even with complete and total approval and buy-in of the husband, fucking your friend's wife is one thing... fucking a client's wife is another.

A Canadian arrangement might work out great, even improving business relations through sexual relations, but with the responsibility of jillion-dollar contracts at stake if things go badly, I'm very reluctant to go their house for dinner. Not even for a Seven of Nine look-a-like and maybe especially because the Borg always said, "Resistance is futile." and "You will be assimilated." According to Kyle, these things will happen.

As much as I'd like to drop all resistance, I still don't think I can allow myself to be assimilated. Dammit!

Every once in a while, I have to allow the big head to prevail in its thinking over the small one. What do you think?

Orgy Questions

2010-05-06T15:18:00.000-07:00

From the last post, "What's an Orgy Like?", Midwestern City Boy (Married in Ohio) asked:

Q: What was the most unusual thing not sexually related we've seen at an orgy?

A: At open swing parties, perhaps the only unusual non-sexual things seen or heard were disagreements or arguments stemming from members who drink too much and behave badly, a suddenly possessive or jealous husband or a suddenly reluctant spouse (all three usually involve first-timers, but at a large party, there seems to be 1 or 2 regulars who drink too much also).

I guess the following event could be considered unusual although certainly not very exciting. It was mid-August on Long Island and hot and humid on a Saturday afternoon. The party began the evening before, so everyone was well into our weekend-long debauchery – meaning everyone was totally nude and would remain so the rest of the weekend (except for our colored wristbands, but you gotta wear something, right?). Any thi-highs, corsets, heels or other fetish clothing worn on the previous evening had long been shed, removed or maybe even ripped off and everyone (at times maybe 40 of us), was in the buff.

The host of this particular weekender in the Hamptons is quite wealthy (I just said we were in the Hamptons) and he refurbishes older, collector cars as a hobby. As he was giving a group of interested guys a tour of his 10-car collection and very expansive garages, he gets an idea.

He says, "Hey... since I have so much help here, would you guys mind helping me drop the engine into that '55 Chevy?"

I guess boys will always be boys as four guys immediately went over to the engine hoist and began winching the chains and maneuvering the heavily chromed engine into the throat of the engine compartment.

Ordinarily there would be nothing unusual about this at all, except that all five of them were completely nude. No gloves, no boots, just four guys grunting and groaning as they guided the heavy engine and transmission into place, hoist-chains rattling, ratchet-wrenches clicking, while five dangling penises pressed obscenely against the freshly-painted fenders as they eased the motor into place.

All this couldn't have taken more than a few minutes and leaving the tightening of the motor mounts to the host, they wiped their hands with rags and the nude guided tour continued as if the engine installation had been part of it.

I guess that could be described as something unusual at an orgy.

A second question came from Jim (no link), who asked:

Q) (paraphrased) About "cross-couple attraction" – his words for compatibility issues like when not everyone in a foursome or group is attracted to everyone else, but has to, "take one for the team".

This probably does occur at open parties but it shouldn't. In swinging, "no" means "no" for any reason, although sometimes politely declining an offer can be awkward. For this and the tendency for some members to consume too much alcohol, are the main reasons we moved away from swinging with strangers. We feel everything about these eventsw should be positive and fun, with no negatives. These two issues tend to be present at every open party. At our private parties, we have no compatibility issues and although alcohol is consumed, it isn't "liquid courage" for anyone.

Thanks to MCB and Jim for the questions. Any more?

What's An Orgy Like?

2010-04-29T16:09:00.000-07:00

I received an e-mail from a reader who said and asked,

"I've been following your blog for about six months and have read practically all of it. I am so jealous of you guys, not just for the amazing sex you guys have, but I'm also jealous of the true, warm friendships you both enjoy with these same people. In my present married lifestyle, I don't think I'll ever get to do more than fantasize about an orgy, but other than all the incredible hot sex, what is it like to participate in an orgy like the ones you just had a few months ago back east?"

An interesting question. One I had to stop and think about, because during an orgy, trust me... I've done very little cognitive thinking. Additionally, I'm not exactly sure how to describe an orgy without "...all the incredible hot sex.", but I'll try. Since all of our experience of this type has been in New York, I'll describe an evening with our group of familiar fiends (No... bedding Joe and Suzy in CA does not constitute an orgy).

Yeah... this reader really got me thinking. Outside of sex, it seems there are more dynamics to an orgy than I had considered. After some thought, one thing did become obvious; no matter how many times we've been with our friends previously, the excitement and anticipation levels of being with them again remain quite high, almost like the first time – totally opposite of our dogging days when only new partners seemed exciting.

I'll describe an evening with our friends, because the dynamics of an open or true swing party are very different, and for me personally, have never been the same from event to event. I'll describe what I know and like better – our "own" private orgies.

First off, we don't call our gatherings an "orgy" (although the last time we got together in NY, we did. Now it makes me wonder why), We usually call such a prearranged event, a "party" or a "session". I don't know who named these or who sets our grammatical rules so don't blame me. A party (or orgy) also seems to have several "rounds" of sex, each softening in boundaries and intensity as the evening progresses and sexual hunger and thirst are gradually slaked.

Let's see... for me, a party begins with my rising anticipation, usually right after work on the evening of the party. During the day, random thoughts and visions of our friends flash through my head, but I'm typically too busy to focus on them until the drive home. In the quiet car, there's more time for my own thoughts and there, my imagination begins to pick up my pace.

At home, seeing my Cindy is always a sexual rush, but when seeing her just before a party, she is especially desirable. Not only because she has washed, scrubbed, shaved, plucked, manicured, pedicured, creamed, painted and dressed herself to sexual perfection, but because I know that everyone else there finds her as desirable and sexy as I do. Hot.

My Cindy is so desirable and sexy, I also know that by the end of the evening, she'll have everyone's spit and sperm on her and in her. Now that's hot.

Being especially fastidious while showering, shaving and party shaving, randy thoughts course through my mind as I think about who I'm going to be with and what I'd like to do with them. My cock is half-hard much through my party shave and I must resist temptation as it assured it will be a long night.

Cindy's excitement usually begins sooner, usually midday as she's doing housework or grocery shopping. More than once she's gotten herself so worked up, she's texted me to, "Come home early for a quickie before we go", or a "Guess what I'm doing? Heh... heh... heh.", announcing that she's started without me. More than once, we've arrived at a party late because of an unplanned wrestling match she started (and then so much for being "fastidiously clean", although in our group, no one would mind and many would be glad for the early deposit of bodily fluids. Yum.).

While driving to the party, I surrender to the emotion and I'm soaring. Cindy is even higher because the girls have been texting each other all day and knowing Cindy and all the other girls, I'm reasonably sure of much of their subject matter. I'm certain every one of them leave for the party wet. Mmmm...

I guess, outside of "all the incredible sex", the height of my own anticipation is waiting for the front door to open. It's an intense few seconds and hard for me to explain. I'm not nervous or jittery at all, just extremely excited. Once inside and all the hello's and welcome's have been said, I relax a lot, as my excitement and anticipation begins to morph into a kind of sexual tension. It starts as a tension but it builds into a pressure. A mental and physical pressure. Billy Joel, Queen, David Bowie and ZZ Top all have songs about being under pressure. All are good. You assign your own meaning to each.

Yeah. Wow. Pressure. The air is thick, my vision is narrow, my breath is tight in my chest, my cock is thick and heavy in my slacks. The scents and tastes of lipstick, perfume and skin are magnified. I'm almost dizzy. It's great and I think everyone in our group feels the same about this point.

This urgency, this pressure continues to build throughout the obligatory meet and greet, but restraint is weak. Food and drink are served and small talk is made but in less than an hour, the meet and greet soon becomes a meat and eat, as no one has or wants any continued restraint or delay. Everyone has been flirting the entire time and all of the conversations have been full of double-entendres and innuendoes and it's not long before someone starts kissing, a playful dare is issued or a naughty game is proposed and soon everyone gets wet.

Once the wet-work begins, everyone is fully engaged within 10-15 minutes. It is always a frantic and urgent confusion of bodies and positions, with no conversation – just quick commands regarding a partner swap, a position change or a desired technique along with the resulting grunts, groans and wet noises. During this sexual anarchy, it's rare that we stay with the same partner from start to finish, seemingly having to do the impossible and sample everyone in turn. It's also during this first round when most of our spit-roasting and multiple-partner sex occurs, although these continue to occur throughout the night, only in smaller groups and not with everyone all at once. Daisy chains are common too.

For me personally, the depravity that I feel, the wickedness of what we are up to permeates the air and is the ultimate mind fuck. Being lewd, nasty, lascivious, wicked, wanton, promiscuous, immoral, decadent, is the sexual rush for me. No one is nastier than I am when I'm cranked up (well, maybe Cindy is, but coming in a close second behind her is totally respectible).

Leaving out, "all the incredible sex" (and the story will move faster if I do), despite our experience and stamina, this first round always has a very fast burn-rate and lasts only about an hour or so before the room goes quiet again. The men do their best to prolong their first release to circulate with as many women as we can, but the heightened sexuality and sheer physicality of our initial session have all of us surrendering sooner than later. The determination of the women to burn down the men doesn't help our longevity either.

As things settle, a lazy, languid haze envelopes the room – everyone is content to nuzzle and cuddle. Lovingly now, with time for quiet conversation, kissing, caressing, the urgency, the intensity, the fervor temporarily gone. This sexual stupor can last 15 or 20 minutes until someone has to pee, get a drink, have a smoke, until one-by-one, the pile of people disentangles, dissolves and dissipates. Still glowing and with "kneak wees" (you've felt this and said this, haven't you?), people begin moving in and out of the kitchen, snacking and getting drinks. Music or the TV comes on and except for the toys, towels and nudity, our parties could appear to be a normal neighborhood get-together.

Probably not.

Within 30 minutes or so, new pairs and groups will begin to coalesce and soon kissing and foreplay breaks out anew, leading to renewed bodily intrusion and exchange of fluids. Within another 30 minutes, everyone is in various stages of coupling, but now far less urgent. There is much more time taken and small talk making, and laughter and giggles mixed among the same grunts, groans and wet noises heard previously.

Where the first round was shorter and had rather sharp start-and-stop boundaries, the second one has fuzzy boundaries, with a slower, more gradual ramping up, a much longer and sustained plateau and a longer cool down. Eventually, sexual satiation and fatigue claims everyone again, although at completely different times and intervals. This round can last 2-3 hours and the room takes longer to quiet down again, although once the second round starts, there is usually at least one or more random couplings going on somewhere, non-stop throughout the rest of night. Most of us are still together in the same room, but by now, one or two couples or three-somes or more-somes may have strayed off for some early privacy. Joe and Judy tend to be one of these.

By this time, someone has fallen asleep, someone else is cooking something, someone is in the shower, someone is making a new drink or outside smoking, as the group begins to lose it's nuclear gravity and eases into what I call "freeform". By "freeform", I mean that the party "spreads out" into smaller groups throughout the room and house. Another single, central, dog-pile seldom occurs more than once.

For the rest of the party, however long it runs, people can be involved in totally random and mundane things, many unrelated to sex. Most of the sex becomes as casual and routine as the conversations going around the room. Four people could be on the couch watching Saturday Night Live, while another couple is using the arm of the same couch to fuck on. You can hear a conversation about a kid's soccer game or someone laughing at a joke at the same time someone else is wailing in an earth-shattering orgasm. During our Roman re-enactments, various versions of dares, jokes, taunting and cheering can all be heard at sometime or another. It's rather strange... wet, grunting, squirting orgasms on one hand, and TV, casual banter and unrelated laughter on the other. We've all laughed at this and ourselves more than once. It's hard to describe to someone who hasn't experienced it.

The rest of the night is much more casual, less intense. Like all parties, the kitchen remains the center of gravity and people rotate in to eat and drink, then rotate back out to talk, fuck, sleep, whatever. Sometimes someone will start a sex game, contest or challenge, like trying to burn Cindy down, and things will liven up but for the most part, everyone is like a Hobbit after their fifth meal. They are comfortably full, but continue go back to the table several times, "To fill in the corners", as a Hobbit would explain. Sexually, we're similar. Nearly everyone is satiated (except maybe Cindy), but everyone keeps going back for more (as she does).

Sometimes people have to leave for babysitter-relief but most stay for the duration... usually till early morning. Gradually but eventually, all couples, three-somes and more-somes slip away into bedrooms or onto couches for either a final lap or a long-winter's nap. There's always some shennagins going on somewhere, but by now, most of us begin to succumb to the pleasure of the evening and are content to allow sleep to claim us.

At the close of an evening, the surviving menfolk usually take the responsibility of blowing out candles, locking doors and covering expired players with sheets and blankets where they lie on couches and floors. All of us are experienced know to bring our own bedding and towels. This insures that everyone gets covered up comfortably and this prevents the poor hosts from having to wash towels and linens for 10+ guests.

Mornings are slow and relaxed and often progress opposite of the previous evening. Sex and coffee are shared as casually as a buffet, of which the party really has become. "You want cantaloup or honeydew? You want Mark or Gary? I'll fry bacon while you fuck Big Bob." The mornings start as slowly as the previous evening started quickly.

Well, in our experience, that's a description of what an orgy is like, "... other than all the incredible hot sex." If your experiences are different, I'd like to hear about them.

Any more questions?

TMI Tuesday

2010-04-20T17:00:00.000-07:00

I've been running around hell's half-acre instead of writing, so I'll post a TMI as a sign of life. I haven't done one of these in a while, so here's today's questions:

1) Commando: Sexy or disgusting?

Women going commando is always ok with me. Besides the chance for a flirty upskirt view, any gal that goes commando knows what she wants. And as soon as the guy sees her strip off, he'll know too.

Do you have a "best" commando story?

We have several such stories, ranging from our early trolling days to an accidental funny one in public recently. Too much for here, sorry.

2) Foreplay: Is there such a thing as too much?

Being just a man I'd instinctively answer, "Probably not", but being a smart man, I'd say, "Ask the woman". (Duh)

From all the stories and jokes one hears, I'd imagine that many fellows don't spend enough time preheating the oven before putting the meat in. If not, then where'd jokes like this one come from?

Q) How come so many women fake orgasms?

A) Because so many men fake foreplay.

C'mon guys... a man did not invent that one!

Or how about...

Q) Why don't women blink during foreplay?

A) Because they don't have time.

And like Johnny Carson,

I'll stop at the third of the same subject joke.

Here's one a guy can ask a good buddy when they're in front of a bunch of other good buddies:

Q) What does a woman say after her third orgasm?

A) You mean you don't know?

(If he's a really good buddy,

you can replace, "a woman" with, "your wife")

OK, I'll stop.

3) Oral: Good if you are getting?

Nah... it really sucks, hurts, hate it. (eyeroll)

Good if you are giving?

Yes, I'd rather give than receive.

Equally ewwwww?

Probably not.

4) Orgasm: Is one per night enough or does one just get your motor running?

For me, a single orgasm can often be plenty, but I'm married to an insatiable vixen who constantly challenges me to exceed my own expectations.

5) Morning sex: "Oh hell yes!", Well, if I have to", or "Just get in the shower and go to work"?

"Oh hell yes!"

Bonus (as in optional): Have you ever had anonymous sex?

Yes.

Have you ever had an orgasm without knowing your partner's name?

Yeah, but didn't I just answer that?

Hmmm... that wasn't very exciting, was it?. Do any of you have questions for Mike or Cindy? The "Ask Mike" column was a personal spin-off of TMI. It had a good following for awhile but the questions have pretty much stopped. Help revive it with questions to Cindy or me about us or our friends, or for opinion or advice.

Disclaimer: Any advice is worth about as much as you'll pay for it.

Your preference in your pubes?
	Untrimmed
	Trimmed
	Trimmed short
	Landing strip
	Smooth