C'MON LET'S GO

If I made love the way I dance, I’d never get laid. But I love dancing so much. OK, well, I must give myself the benefit of the doubt I’ve only been dancing for a year or so and I’ve been fucking for over 30 years. Last night I was dancing with a girl who wasn’t born when I started fucking. Why bring that up? Because it makes me feel good. Now, if I could only say some day down the road, “Last night I fucked a girl who wasn’t even born when I started dancing.” Well, maybe not. That would either make me a fetus-o-phile or have me in closing in on my 70s and her nearing 20…

Bottom line is, like sex, when you find a dancing partner with whom you have found a groove, the right music, the right moment. All time falls away and it is just pure unadulterated sexy fun.

My ex and I used to dance. Maybe one dance per wedding or once or twice a year if we were out in a bar and the band was happening. She had one particular “bounce” she did and it only worked with certain music so we were limited. Sure we could slow dance but neither of us were particularly adept at that. We’d just go in little circles. But I’ll tell you I sure loved those little circles with her.

And being a Deadhead and a musician, I never really did the whole dancin’-twirling-gyrating Dead-dance thing at shows. Not because the music didn’t move me but because the movement of my head impeded the absorption of every little musical nuance and my relationship with their music was very much one of study and detail oriented observation. So I missed a ton of a certain kind of fun at those shows. Granted, my wife didn’t attend either so twirling with my other “detail oriented buds” wasn’t something that came up. I loved watching hippie chicks go off though, spinning in all their see-through muslin freedom.

So why start dancing now? Well, I’d finally broken free of the depression of divorce and the angst of the first hellacious new post-divorce relationship (although on our last night together, she and I danced slowly in the hallway to the first song we'd ever sung onstage together years before and it was a beautiful moment, but I digress) and for the first time in my life I felt free. I felt loose and open and ready for whatever life had for me. I’d found myself at a gig by a friend’s Western Swing band and though I’d never attempt to actually “swing dance” I was discovered sort of cutting the rug near stage-side. Nothing too expansive but a bit more than my standard swaying of shoulders and never moving the feet concert/listening stance. Within a week or so, in fact, it was a year ago this month, I was at a friend’s wedding reception and the same swing band was playing. This time they had my favorite local drummer guesting and he really rocked them a bit. His date also was standing around looking ready to party and so she and I became dance partners by osmosis.

She’s a cool woman but always seemed one of the boys. A partier. Always dressed down in basic jeans and flannel hippie garb or some such thing. Not what someone would call a real femme chick. In fact, this was the first time in 20+ years I’d ever seen her wear a dress. At any rate, I’d never had so much fun dancing in my life. She and I were very responsive to each other. When I’d spin one way, she’d follow. When she’d dip a shoulder down, I’d dip the opposite up. I kept thinking, “Shit, so this is what this is all about.” We were like mirrors at times and just had a blast. Even the drummer commented, “You’re not bad out there. I’ve never seen you move so much before.”

In fact, I got a lot of nice compliments from people and in the next few months, I danced whenever the music moved me. I met a woman, Louisa, on Match.com who, while bumming me out by immediately stating that I wasn’t her type before ever meeting me, she also said we should meet for coffee and talk music since our tastes were very similar. We wound up at some concerts and bars together and found ourselves dancing and having a ball doing it. Now, that is our primary motivation for going out on the weekend.

So I’d spent my whole life not dancing. My excuse being that I didn’t want to look like an idiot. Now, who the fuck cares. I'm old enough to not be concerned in the slightest. Another factor has always been that, as at the Grateful Dead shows, I always listen intently to live music. As a musician whenever people are dancing you are either onstage playing or in the audience watching some other band and trying to pick up just what's going on. Are they any good? Any riffs I can steal? Are they making any mistakes or have any interesting ideas that might motivate my musicianship? So who had the time to dance the night away? Plus I hate being sweaty and what girl would look twice at a drenched dude? Well, now I see that girls who like to dance will...and there are lots of them out there waiting.

And recently when Louisa and I were among the first on the dance floor at a concert by a great Cajun guitarist, an old friend of mine came up and said, “I wish I could do that…I don’t have the balls to get out there and dance especially since I could never move like you guys.” Huh? Life is funny.

Then again there is always the big plus of being able to touch and hold women close without being bitch-slapped.

FLIP THE SWITCH LETTERS #1: SISSY PIG/MISTRESS/SLUT/MASTER/BITCH/SLAVE

So you figure it out. All I can tell you is that my xxxploratory partner (EXP) and I are two flexible motherfuckers. We both like to switch roles. She is more experienced in the submissive role, me in the dominant in our previous relationships but we both feel like our real essence resides somewhere on the opposite side of our experiences. As “EXPs” one of our main focuses seems to have been to play on both sides to try and figure out where our preferences lie. So far, I think we both seem pretty happy getting the best (and worst-ouch) of both worlds.

Here is a sampling of some long distance correspondence. Seems I wrote some birthday emails for her which got sucked into cyberspace and she didn’t wind up getting them until later (I re-sent just them as the originals finally got through so she got double attention...mmm) So as in any good loving sub/dom relationship, we can find silly reasons for “punishment” anywhere…I’ll make her pay for doubting me…

Pierce:

OK so pretend you didn't get all of those birthday greetings (or were they emails that went missing?) I'd tried so hard to be the first to wish you HBD but of course I was a day early because I'M A FUCKIN' IDIOT.

But you know that and idiots can be more easily dominated, more easily convinced to do your bidding...I plead wondrous idiocy in the name of carnal pleasure....yee-yum-fuckin'-haw.

Happy B'day, baby.

XO---===>>>B



Miss Mary:

…But perhaps if you go into the bathroom right now and wash your hands clean of this horrendous sin…and then get down on your knees, freak..because that's where freaks should be…on their knees...and bend way over…because you are going to get a nice, hard (ok, telepathic) spanking from Miss Mary. One shiny red heel balanced on your spine to keep you still lest you flinch. Bad, baby, bad.
Swat.

Bad, Pierce, bad. Swat. What have we? You're wiggling your ass at me? Bad, Piercely, bad…what am I going to do with you? Swat. Swat. Swat. You know it didn't have to be this way…Miss Mary would have very much liked to have admired your cock tonight...yep, liked to have had it plump and ready for her tongue to roll it strong. She would have been happy to be the one on her knees backed up against the bathroom wall while you held her head strong and fucked her red, tired but still accommodating mouth, she would have loved to look up at you all innocent and coy while reaching for the your favorite latex penis (which I'm sure you packed for your trip) just in time for you to lube it with your drenching come and then Miss Mary would have liked to slide it oh so slowly into your pulsing ass ...

But no, ...no such rewards for bad boys who forget their Mistress.

Oh, well.. you did make quite an effort in your cover-up of the "missing missives" though. I almost believe you :)

You’re off the hook.

xoxo,

~M



Pierce:

I would never forget you Miss Mary. Please. Fuck me slowly Miss Mary. I’m sorry I sinned Miss Mary.
OW
OW
OW
OW
OW
OW
OW
OW
OW
OW
OW
OW
OW
YAAAAAAAAAAAAOW
OH
WAIT
OW
HARDER PLEASE
YAAA
AAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH
STOP NO STOP IT
NO
MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE
MORE
FUCK
YOU BITCH that HURTS
ENOUGH
WATERMELON, FUCKER! WATERMELON...UH, SISSY PIG!
OK, UH THAT’S FUNNY TO YOU?
COME here, YES I’m pulling your hair, you mean little slut. Get over here. Let me see those tits. Take that off NOW. Pierce is in charge now. You have a problem with that? No? Good. I think you like being bad.
So you doubted my attention? You thought I forgot about you? Now you will pay for doubting me!
Good. Good. Now get down on your knees. Is that floor too cold? Too fucking bad, baby.
WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU SMILING ABOUT?
OPEN YOUR MOUTH...
Yes. That’s right. You are being pierced yes, baby. Suck that big head, baby. I’ve been waiting for you to make me pay for being such a bad boy but sometimes you have to take a bit of your own medicine. Swallow that hard dick baby, now rub that wet cock all over your face. Yeah, that’s it.
Mmmm. Before I come baby, I’m going to pull your head back with a fistful of your hair and piss all over you. I want to see your face and soft neck and shoulders and those beautiful breasts that I dream about, all soaking wet baby. Ahhhhhhhh. Warm splashing all over your body. You’re such a little slut baby. Now grip that cock baby, slip it deep in your mouth and stroke me off...I want to shoot my hot paste in your mouth baby...yeah, suck it down Mary...mmmm. You’re such a nasty little girl.
Ahhhh. Yes. Mmmm. Here baby, let me lay down on the wet floor. Come on, lay on top of me. Yes. I’m still hard baby, yes. Kiss me. I want to taste all of that come. You feel so good all wet against me. I want to hold that ass in my hands. Let me squeeze that fucking ass, baby. Let me slip a finger up your wet snatch for a second....Soak it. Mmmm. Slippery. Now, I’m gonna slide it up that tight ass of yours...feel that?...yeah baby, fuck that finger with your asshole...let me kiss your neck... you taste like piss baby. Mmmm, feel that finger up you baby?...feel my cock poking up between your legs? Push those legs together. Squeeze him between your legs baby...yeah, I want you to pee on that hard cock baby...soak me baby...yeah, you kinky little bitch doing what your master says. Good girl. Rub up against that cock baby; I want to feel you come against that drenched cock. Feel those fingers inside your ass; pushing you towards that wet, hot cock...I love being your little whore Mary. Shiver on that hard cock baby...yes, that’s it...Kiss me, before I have to spank that ass...yes, I’ve missed you baby...hold me tight. Kiss me, baby.... kiss me.

------->>>>B

"IT'S LIKE DISCOVERING PLUTONIUM...BY ACCIDENT."

I've had a difficult time blogging about my first real, non-imaginary, threesome...Instead, I have been luxuriating in the memory, reliving the details in rich, vibrant, Technicolor r.e.m. sleep as well as in conversation with all of my jealous male friends, thoroughly impressed and beautifully skeptical female friends...but sit down and put the details down on "paper" has been a bit more difficult. It's almost as if I take the time to actually write about it, I may realize that it really was just some kind of twisted Twilight Zone moment where I slipped through the cracks between 50 years of fantasizing and some truly blessed event...would I be able to discern reality from fantasy?

So tonight while perusing online Swingers dating sites--and just wondering, "Is this really me? Do I have it in me to jump in dick first to a whole new lifestyle? Will my loving and willing girlfriend Randi be as willing as she has seemed to be in considering all of these other radically less dramatic 'suggestions' I've thrown at her way this past year?"--I hear from the TV across the room an old rerun of SEINFELD which held the answers to at least one of the aforementioned quandaries...YES, here is my way through the writer's block...through the invisible wall of indecision which has held back my confessional needs...so I give you…the prologue, catalyst, cattle prod that will hopefully bear blog fruit as I begin to tell you about the wonders of triplicate sex...

Read on from the SEINFELD episode called “The Switch”...It starts with Jerry & George planning Jerry’s attempt to do the impossible, trying to switch from dating one girl (Sandy) to her hotter roommate (Laura)...

GEORGE: All right. Let's go over it again, one more time.

JERRY: All right. So I tell Sandy that I want to have a ménage a trois with her and her roommate.

GEORGE: That's right.

JERRY: And you believe this course of action will have a two-pronged effect. Firstly, the very mention of the idea will cause Sandy to recoil in disgust, whereupon she will insist that I remove myself from the premises.

GEORGE: Keep going.

JERRY: At this point, it is inevitable that she will seek out the roommate to apprise her of this abhorrent turn of events.

GEORGE: Continue.

JERRY: The roommate will then offer her friend the requisite sympathy even as part of her cannot help but feel somewhat flattered by her inclusion in the unusual request.

{George takes over.}

GEORGE: A few days go by and a call is placed at a time when Sandy is known to be busy at work. Once the initial awkwardness is relieved with a little playful humor, which she [Laura] of course cannot resist, an invitation to a friendly dinner is proffered.

JERRY: Huh. Well, it all sounds pretty good. There's only one flaw in it: They're roommates. She'd have to go out with me behind Sandy's back. She's not gonna do that.

{Another pregnant pause. George?}

GEORGE: You disappoint me, my friend. Sandy wants nothing to do with you. She tells Laura, "If you want to waste your time with that pervert, that's your problem."

{Final pause. Jerry?}

JERRY: It's a perfect plan. So inspired. So devious. Yet so simple.

GEORGE: {George, finger in the peanut butter jar}: This is what I do.

>>>>

LATER IN THE SHOW...

>>>>

Sandy's apartment

SANDY: What:

JERRY: You know, I don't know the exact pronunciation but I believe its Ménage A Trois.

SANDY: Oooo, that is a wild idea

JERRY: Uh?

>>>>

LATER IN THE SHOW...

>>>>

GEORGE: Hey, what happened with Sandy. I forgot all about it. Did you call her?

JERRY: Yeah, I did. In fact I went over there.

GEORGE: So what happened? She throw you out? Eh?

JERRY: No actually, she took it pretty well.

GEORGE: So what happened?

JERRY: She's into it.

GEORGE: Into what?

JERRY: The ménage. And not only that. She just called me and said she talked to the roommate and the roommate’s into the ménage too.

GEORGE: That's unbelievable.

JERRY: Oh, it's a scene man.

GEORGE: Do you ever just get down on your knees and thank god that you know me and have access to my dementia?

JERRY: What are you talking about? I'm not goin' to do it.

GEORGE: You're not goin’ to do it? What do you mean, you're not goin’ to do it?

JERRY: I can't. I'm not an orgy guy.

GEORGE: Are you crazy? This is like discovering Plutonium ... by accident.

JERRY: Don't you know what it means to become an orgy guy? It changes everything. I'd have to dress different. I'd have to act different. I'd have to grow a mustache and get all kinds of robes and lotions and I'd need a new bedspread and new curtains I'd have to get thick carpeting and weirdo lighting. I'd have to get new friends. I'd have to get orgy friends. ... Naw, I'm not ready for it.

GEORGE: If only something like that could happen to me.

JERRY: Oh, shut up you couldn't do it either.

GEORGE: I know.

***

....FOOLISH BOYS...OF COURSE THEY COULD...AND SHOULD....