DEBAUCHERY UPDATE #3

DU #2 hit in 2009 on October 1st and it's taken me a bit longer to get back to the update of my year of new sexy experiences due to a hectic year of job change, coast change, world change. As I mentioned in my post titled POST-DIVORCE DEBAUCHERY I was inspired by a member on Adult Friend Finder with her post called "what a year!" to note there my new, sexy and fun accomplishments of the past four years since my separation in 2003 and subsequent divorce. So this is really something of a second cumming serialized list, pun intended.

So here is the 2010 wrap-up...Things have still been going well this past year, not so much in quantity but in quality. In fact, if numbers of sexual experiences was the goal then this year has been shy of the past couple of year's sweat-o-meter. But if we are talking interesting and new situations then 2010 has had some definite high points...

* Miss Mary, my Exploratory Partner, came across country and moved in with me in Oct 2009. Platonic in only the strictest sense, in that we aren't "in a relationship" of any pedestrian or predictable definition. No strings other than honesty, communication, caring and respect...a tolerance for nakedness around the house, a steady hand when trimming my pubic hair (it's indeed a matter of trust with scissors literally a hair a way from the treasured yambag) and an ability to get things started in record time with our occasional shared partners. She is a fearless, giving and very sexy EXP. Having someone sleeping in the next room who preferred to hear the sounds of me jerking off as opposed to asking me to close the door when the urge hit me was a nice perk as well. And her occasional hops into my bed, fresh from a shower to lend a hand or just be there to watch me take advantage of myself in various and sundry ways was indeed a nice change of pace. She also liked to ask that I jerk off in front of her in the living room while she played solitaire on her laptop, and no, that's not what they are callin' it these days, she would literally play solitaire on her laptop. Seems she liked to push her level of concentration to its limits. Not to mention the astrological, stylistic, spiritual, experiential and intuitive dating advice she would give me when I headed out head full of hope and mind on some 'lil chippie who indulged me with an evening of company. A colorblind gigolo could ask for nothing more than someone to keep him from walking out of the door looking like a circus monkey fresh from the spin-art booth. She's only my treasured EXP, but my BRE (best roomie ever) as well.

* She began using the alias Chad whenever she felt in the dominant mood and we had a wonderful experience the first time when she put the huge 10" dildo down her tight jeans and pulled my head to her bulging crotch ordering me to "suck her off" and then in short order pushing me down onto the futon and taking me swiftly. That she dressed like a man and I could still feel her heaving breasts against my chest as she forced herself in and out of me was quite the turn on.

* Miss Mary and I also explored this year on occasion with her latest lesbian lover (threesome #5, foursome #2&3). More on these elsewhere but they would allow me to watch the two of them fuck, which I did on a few occasions sometimes standing over them with my cock in my hand. EXP and I also had a short threesome (trio #6 and quartet #2) in January with my #3 poly partner who finally began sexual relations with me after checking me out heavily late in 2009 and then putting me on the back burner until one of her regular partners was comfy with another new face/cock in the mix logistically. EXP's gf also showed up and watched me and my partner for awhile and then EXP and her gf laid down next to us and watched me go down on my partner. Fun, fun, fun. Only the start of a grand night of kink with poly #3 but also, more on this later.

* MORE DOMINANCE - my little poly girl #3, not only my first Latina but the tiniest partner I have ever had (4'11", 97 lbs), shared a wonderful evening of profound spanking. No sex, just ordering her to her knees and she would scramble to the corner and cower...and well, I won't give it all away but this was an evening dedicated to her pleasure via spanking and slapping and virtually hovering over her with focused intimidation. A wonderful chemistry. We were to revisit this behavior on occasion and it worked well for both of us. Can't wait until next time...

* FALLING HARD: I can's say that this was a first, but in the first month of the year I fell surprisingly fast and hard for a woman much younger than I. Me: 53, she: 28. And a stunner. Although, of course I was attracted physically, it was the cat and mouse game of exploring each others minds via chat, text, long late night phoners, drinks, dates music, and mostly helping her through a very trying time. In the end I felt used up as she needed too much of me and I was receiving less and less of what I needed from her. C'est la vie. The selfishness of youth tosses another ship onto the rocks drawn to the Siren's call.

* HAVE I MENTIONED MY LONG-TERM INTERNET-ONLY ROMANCE WITH A WOMAN FROM MY PREVIOUS TEEN YEARS? No? Well, I've probably been saving that up for a long post when and if we ever meet face-to-face. In a nutshell, about 4 years ago now I was approached on MySpace by a woman from my high school. We'd been next to each other in the yearbook all four years but had never spoken. She really didn't remember me but broke the ice, "Is that you next to me? You're kinda cute. Why didn't we know each other?"

Consequently, we got to know each other deeply very quickly. She and I both being the open types, we started out talking home town memories and catch-up and quite quickly the comfort levels grew and we found we were both basically kinky, sexy, flirty, verbal people with a ton in common and 3000 miles away from each other. Oh well, the phone sex was insane and we dreamed loud and even planned a possible tête-à-tête, a clandestine meeting or two which, alas, never came together. We fell apart during the past year, incommunicado over some misunderstanding needlessly trumped up to facilitate an easier and more drastic way of dealing with the uncertainty, the passion and the questions so far from each others' reality. By year's end. We have mended fences lately but are both careful to not ignite any flames we couldn't extinguish. I miss the full-on sexiness of our interactions tremendously. I miss the hope for more and the wonderful positivity of knowing I had found a like-minded soul blazing with endless possibility. I yearn for that feeling again before this life ends.

* 2009 had found me being frustrated with Adult Friend Finder, the adult dating site after a couple of years on. Having had no real connection with anyone of note, no dates, meetings etc. In the new year I decided to concentrate more on real-world dating, dancing and flirting which has been a boon. I bailed on AFF and saved some bread. I missed the surfing through wild and sexy profiles of people but not the constant posing and wild, goose chase atmosphere. I had earlier bailed on Extreme Restraints dating site (a variance of AFF) as being just to over-the-top for a nubile discovering his kink.

In short order though, I found FetLife. A free site for the BDSM community. Not a dating site, although people do hook up with exciting new folks there sometimes. More a way to plug into a community of people exploring the kinky side of life. From newbies, to part-timers, to those living the lifestyle 24/7 the site offers wide-ranging opportunities for exploring information, networking, photos, in-person local support groups, parties, etc for whatever proclivities, fetishes, fantasies you may have the desire to indulge in. Overall, my experience has been enlightening and people kind and really non-judgmental. I find the advice giving nature of the groups on the site receptive, generally warm, and not only informative but vastly entertaining. There, as in any forum, are always flamers and such but generally, it seems pretty acceptant and tolerant. I also haven't visited SLS (Swing Life Style) site all year. Once I realized that it was predominantly partner oriented and I wasn't in a full-time partnered situation any longer (my polyesque long-distance lovers aside), and that swinging was not really what I was interested in...i.e. just random sex with other people's partners...not that I've anything against that...but I've found my way into emotionally connected relationships that have an open-minded sexual perspective (the poly world) and it seems to satisfy the need for that love and connective commitments emotionally that only having a full-time partner can trump. But, I'm open for suggestion, if nothing else.

I've discovered in these last few post-divorce, playfully experimental years that I'd a) love a full-time relationship b) wouldn't be bad at dealing with it being an open relationship sexually if that was my partner(s)'s choice as well c) I am not of a naturally promiscuous character. Seeking intellectual, spiritual, emotional AND sexual connection. Granted, the odd romp in the hay or on the rack would not be frowned upon. And until that day, let the fun continue. I have been lucky to, overall, have spent the last 6 years vastly enjoying a more satisfying, enlightening and expanding sexual profile and palette and I'm ready for more.

* Also in 2010 I went to my first MUNCH. This was a monthly meeting of an area BDSM support group. Great people, 80 couples, getting together for fun, food, games, and ribald discussion of their shared interests. Just like a monthly meeting of car or bridge or knitting aficionados except the conversation might lean towards being handcuffed to a police cruiser by your partner dressed as a cop and violated on a deserted street late at night; a couple of hands of blackjack with the loser having to confess some deep dark fantasy; or a demonstration of someone doing needlework on a person's privates. Well, actually, this last thing would be more likely to take place in the privacy of a group party...

* Yes, EXP and I attended my first BDSM house party and I will post about this wildly, wonderful experience, I promise.

* Unfortunately, in my bicoastal running around I was hard pressed to become involved heavily in the POLY support group I joined in Philly. They have monthly meetings and seem like fun people but, sad to say, no time.

* It has also been a slow year for my practicing Taoist sexual techniques. Lack of partners being a major hindrance. But I continue to read Mantak Chia and search for an open-minded and spiritually oriented partner who would like to perhaps study westernized Tantric ideas and techniques.

* Ah, yes and I had my first MAN-LOVE experience of consequence. Again more on that in detail elsewhere. Let's just say, it involved a friend who I had been circling and he me for a few months, and an evening delivered with the help of my EXP and her partner that turned into a somewhat disappointing but also vastly exhilarating foursome for reasons you will be filled in on later.

* DANCING. Yes, dancing. I may have mentioned that I didn't dance until I was 48 years old See the archive for October 29, 2007 titled C'MON LET'S GO

and 2010 found me dancing almost weekly whenever one of my favorite bands were playing. So much sexy fun. * I also found out in 2010 that a pair of good married friends of mine have a DUNGEON in their basement. NIIIICE! In fact, they were at my first Munch and invited me to my first BDSM party. I still have not been to their home play room but plan on when I am next in their town.

* also in 2010, an acquaintance who recently leaped into the kink life, became first a pro dominatrix and then after meeting a new full-time partner, leaped into the kink performer realm. She is WAY more advanced than I and goes into kink that I'm not at all interested in exploring personally but that are so very fascinating and out of this world edgy. So much for having her give me a tied-down butt whoopin' (gifted from a good friend with voyeuristic tendencies) but maybe she'll be willing to get around to it...I also am hoping to learn more about shibari (artful Japanese rope bondage) and learn about suspension this year at the request of my tiny polygf #3.

* In fact, polygf #3 my tiny, spankable Latina is in reality, at present my polygf #1 since my former polygf #1 (Randi) is in celibate mode, concentrating on business, new house and hubby issues and my polygf #2 (don't let EXP hear me call her that...she allows only the definition of EXP/BRE/Miss Molly/Chad and nothing beyond to taint our ever fluctuating but always deeply connected intertwinings) is into a full-on lesbian relationship roomie mode and I have moved West. So for ease of description here at least I will keep the definitions as such until I figure something else out.

* Another first was a motel room MFM trio with polygf #3 and a bf of hers, the same who ws initially trepidatious about me joining her circle. It was a wonderful surprise for her and a last minute addition of moi! this also deserves more extrapolation which I will get to in another post. A wonderful and different evening.

* In reality, this year has found me more "single" than "poly". While I still define myself as "polyamorous" because I feel that that is how I am presently wired, my real-life situation is not that way. I am 3000 miles from my main sex partner (#3 and again she is married and I am one of 3 poly bfs so it get complicated thus numbering...hahaha) as well as my EXP. And while I see Randi (#1) once or twice a month living on this coast, we are currently platonic but flirty and in my present surroundings the opportunities to meet single women are few and far between. I have never stopped loving my three girls (oh, sounding so deluded and possessive in only the most honoring and appreciative, not clinging way, of course) and I wish every day one of them (okay, all of them) were here with me. Such is life.

* On the positive front, just before I left the East Coast I found myself in some wonderful if fleeting flirtations with a handful of amazing women...an incredibly beuatiful, soulful, smart and mysterious young black woman (24) and a way sexy dancer; a dark and evasively surprising curly haired olive-complected waitress (mid-20s) and super intelligent; a young gaggle of fans of my music (20s); a long-time acquaintance and earth-mama who likes to smooch and flirt and who takes on the problems of the neer-do-wells around her (40s); a woman I've dated who just wants to be friends who is quite possibly one of the most overtly sexy and flirty person I've ever met (how do you spell frustration? She's a sizzlin' 40); a vivacious school teacher gf of a friend who I am enamored with who is flirty, open-minded but finally committed to him just as we started getting acquainted (early 20s); a spectacular 20-something dance partner who is right there with my moves, plugged into and drawn to my sexuality and at times simply oozes connection, artsy, unique, real and earthy girl who calls me her "older guy fantasy", she's also in a relationship with a buddy; and unfortunately...all 3000 miles away. I keep in touch with them regularly through the popular social networks and tehy all seem anxious for me to visit as am I. So why am I hear, family health issues (older parents), job opportunities pegged to slow economy...So if someone tells you the economy shouldn't affect your sex life, think again.

* I also began, on my last visit East, a mentoring of sorts to a long-time acquaintance who had recently split with her BF and was anxious to stick her toe (and other more delicate parts) into the kink world. She asked advice, joined FetLife and with little instigation from me 3000 miles away, dove tits first into the local BDSM scene. She met a couple or two online including a pair who know my dungeon keeping friends, went to a munch and then a sexy party in Philly and has found a new side to herself. You go, Blondie!

So all in all we'll give 2010, Three big cocks out of five:

* But for me, it's BACK TO LAND OF NO PUSSIBILITIES. I am truly enjoying the solitude and fresh air but it will get old. I haven't flirted or danced in three months so I am concerned about losing my game. I may have to import some hotties from back east. Hmmm, not a bad idea.

So in closing, I tell myself once again, that my motto really should be "QUALITY, NOT QUANTITY." Indeed.

HEREDITARY (part one)

She walked in just as her mother was feeling the head of my cock slide into her asshole. Her timing could’ve been worse, I suppose. She missed all of the begging and whimpering that led up to this moment. She’d missed her mom tied to the wooden chair her legs spread wide, her large pink nipples misshapen by 15 rubber-tipped clothespins. But, I digress.

This was actually, the second time I’d fucked her mother, uh and her…though it would be the first night I’d fuck her and her mother together. Again, I apologize for my digression… Let’s be a bit clichéd and start at the beginning…I’d had a thing for Ashley since she was a young girl. I just knew she’d grow up to be a beautiful woman since her father was a good looking guy and her mother, Kim, a stunning Rubenesque beauty. I’d known Kim since she was 18 and sneaking into the bars with her new boyfriend Jim, to watch me play music. He’d been coming to hear me play for a couple of years and was a good 8 years older than she was.

Kim was something else—a raven-haired, hippie chick wearing nearly see-through peasant blouses and tight, denim bell-bottoms. Even at 18, Kim's breasts were a force of nature. I’d have to guess they were 42DD, but I had never been a breast man until I laid eyes on her so what do I know. She had a bubbly personality to match her bouncy body and all of the guys were not so secretly enamored of her youthful radiance and jealous of Jim’s good fortune.

Once Ashley was born, we saw less and less of them but whenever they’d come around the girls would stop the room with their laughter and good looks. Young Ashley was a dimpled little blond Pixie and such a little flirt; even back then, taking after her mother. As she grew up, she just got prettier and prettier, and in spite of a brief awkward tomboy stage as she reached puberty, she matured into a stunning blonde version of her mom. She never quite developed the mammoth breasts or wide-assed voluptuous, earth-mama thing that her mom has but was in possession of a mysterious, melancholy entwined with her giggly, mischievous side that accentuated her seriously beautiful smile and solid, athletic build. And a big plus: she always IDOLIZED me.

I’d often fantasized over the years about ravenously making love to one or the other of them. They both have long been very fond of me and I always tried to keep my enthusiasm at a sane level when in my head and my pants was throbbing a world of perverse scenarios starring the three of us. Now, that Ashley was 18, I was practically speechless every time I saw her, reciting the line-up of the 1961 Yankees to keep my lustful fantasies at bay.



Surprisingly, after years of being the model family, Jim got caught up in work and somehow bored with domestic life at home. He had to be away from the girls for long periods of time, traveling internationally for his business. When I’d see the three of them around town, Kim always got very sad when Jim would talk excitedly about his impending trips abroad. She'd mention how, now that Ashley was driving and out all of the time with her friends that the house seemed so empty when he was gone. Jim even suggested at one point that Kim and I go to a movie or something since I was freshly divorced and living close by. We did a couple of times but I felt so tempted that I went much less often than I was asked. Jim didn’t know the doors he was opening.

Kim and I had always flirted a bit and as much as she loved Jim back in the early days, she was just naturally flirty in a very innocent way. Hard to not lust after when she’d lean into you with her ample softness and giggle in your ear. I was never of the mind to be a home wrecker but my fantasies naturally ran wild and in her loneliness she seemed to adore the attention.

While Jim was on one of these trips, Kim called me. She asked if I had any gigs while he was out of town. She was bored and needed an excuse to pull herself out of her doldrums.

“Ashley is never around, always out with her girlfriends and I get so tired hanging out here all alone. I miss seeing you guys play.”

I told her I, in fact, had a gig on the other side of town that night. She was free but a little sketchy about going by herself to a place she’d never been before. I offered her a ride and picked her up early since I had to do the dreaded “stage set up.” She was ready for fun and started in on the whiskey sours as soon as we got there.

The gig was fun. Not crowded but enough people showed up so that Kim was out on the dance floor most of the night. I found it so hard to concentrate on playing as she danced for a bit with some hippie girls and later, a string of college boys taking turns swirling her around the parquet.

By the end of the night, she was fighting off a couple of suitors who were taking turns chatting her up and buying her drinks. As I was walking the gear out to the car, she grabbed my arm on the way to the bathroom and said, “Don’t go too far. You’re my excuse to get away from these two knuckleheads.”

Once everything was done, I did one last look-see at the stage to make sure I hadn't forgotten anything and then walked towards the bar to rescue her from the hounds.

“Here comes my date now,” she says, slipping clumsily off the stool. Waltzing up to me, she planted a deep wet kiss on my mouth, grabbing a handful of my cock and balls with her left hand. She tilted her head back and laughed her sexy, growling purr.

We walked back towards the guys, who are both sitting there with their eyes wide and their beers stalled half way to their chins.

“Great meeting you fellas, but I may have my hands full with this one,” and she grabs her Manhattan, swills down the remnants, laughs and pulls me by the hand towards the front door. By this time, I can’t even remember that Jim exists; I’m ashamed to say.

As I pull the door open for her, she spins back around and looks at the two startled boys. Suddenly, Kim strides back their way. They were stunned, I guess, but I was more interested in watching her ass sway as she walked back toward them. She leaned over and planted a lingering kiss on the short, skinny, curly, headed blond and then the knock-out, buff, Hawaiian-looking kid as well. She turns back towards me, at once grabbing their hands and pulling them off the barstools behind her.

“I've changed my mind. Maybe it’s time we teach you boys, a few things.”

They followed us back to her place in their separate cars, a caravan of raging hormones. En route, I wandered out loud, “What about Jim?”

“Fuck him. He’s probably shacking up with a 12-year old Thai girl in a hotel on the Champs d’Elysess,” she slurred, laughing. I asked her what she had in mind but she didn’t answer since her mouth was already full of my hard cock.

Once back at her place, we were soon doing tequila shots with Tsing-Tao chasers and all naked in her lush hot tub. The boys were both initially a bit taken aback by her balls out demeanor but not particularly shy when forced into action. We all took turns fondling her bobbing breasts in the water, while some other of us stuck a tongue into her ear or mouth but she had something else in mind. She pushed between us and ran across the grass into the house and upstairs. Me, oddly being the least intimidated, was the first to leap out of the swirling water and into her wet footprints.

“Don’t wait too long boys, she might change her mind.”

They were right behind me.

When we got up to the bedroom, she was nowhere to be found but I could hear her attempting to sing the tune she’d requested earlier at the gig, David Crosby’s “Triad”. From behind the bedroom door, her girlish giggling mixed with the out-of-pitch crooning.

We all kind of paced around a bit, cocks and cocktails in our hands when she strolled out as if it was not an out-of-the-norm event to find a naked, drunken boner patrol circling her king-sized bed.

Laughing, she scurried onto the gold silk sheets and in a flash, she was lying on her back, legs spread alternating licks off an orange popsicle and slugs from an iced bottle of Patron, she’d somehow found in the loo. “The roller coaster is officially open, boys. Gimme some DICK!”

She was plastered and having a wonderful time. The Hawaiian kid, Nat, dove onto the bed like he was paddling out into the big surf. Before we could stop laughing he was astride her pumping away. Pete and I walked to either side of the bed and took the Popsicle and Patron out of her grasp, replacing them with two hot treats of our own. Her eyes were glazed over in ecstasy as she pulled both of our cocks together sucking as much of us into her mouth as she could. To keep from falling, Pete’s arm went around my back and my hand to his shoulder.

We heard humming from Nat whose face was buried in her mammoth chest. The sensation of another man’s smooth cock rubbing against mine with her anxious lips wrapped around them was unbelievable. She had a firm hold of us, one in each hand and began to alternate us into her wide mouth, sucking one then the other all the way down her throat. I heard Pete getting more and more vocal and his legs began to quiver. She pulled him out of her mouth and pulling us roughly into one two-handed grip, holding both of our pulsing poles together in her fists, squeezing hard until he burst. A huge load of hot, white cum flew across her face, eyes, and splattered her beautiful black curls. Nat was pumping away hard by now up with her legs up over her shoulders. Pete fell backwards onto the floor as if out cold but his heavy breathing told us he was okay. Every few breaths, he muttered, "fuck...fuck..."

I slid down a bit to where her tits were soaked with Nat’s kisses and pushed my hardness between them. The incredible slick softness had me coming quickly with such a force that I not only soaked her chest and neck but shot a massive gob onto her lips and her head flew back onto the pillow in whiplash surprise. She and I both laughed hysterically.

From the floor, Pete gasped, “What did I miss?”

I kissed some cum off of her bottom lip. “Hahaha. I always thought you were probably a filthy fuck,” she howled, shaking her head tossing cum all over the room. Pete rolled out of the way of the flying spooge knocking over a chair, cursing through the laughs.

And Nat never missed a stroke. Quite the athlete, this guy. As I slid down farther lapping my sticky spunk off her mounds, I took quick, hard bites of her prodigious silver dollar nipples that got her back arching off the sweat drenched sheets.

This was too much for Nat. He pulled out of her, shooting streams of hot schmutz all over my ass and balls. Coming around the side of the bed, he plopped his wet, fat cock across Kim’s wide smile. Watching this got my magic wand stiff as a board again and I slipped down into her soaked, pink folds and ground my hips slowly into her hot box where he had just been.

A second wind hit him and Pete leapt to his feet, cock in hand and came up behind me and slapped my ass hard a dozen times, and just as I was feeling a sweet burn and my balls tightening up with the exhilaration, he bent over and laid his tongue up the crack of my ass, pushing it into my puckered hole and I shot this howling gal full of all I had.

I rolled over, off the bed and onto the beautiful Afghani rug where I laid with a comatose grin across my slimy face. Whew.


Needing some rejuvenating fresh air, I left the room with Pete balls deep in Kim’s ass and Nat underneath her, his Pepsi can-sized cock regaining its form between her tits as she swayed back and forth over him.

I stumbled outside and slipped back into the hot tub, ready to collapse. As I was staring up at the stars in post-coital afterglow, Pete came running out of the house, whisper-screaming something I couldn’t quite decipher through the persistent gurgle of the water. He was waving his arms at me to get out of the tub, in a hurry, his cock still sticking out, swaying like a Bobby Bonds home run swing.

I climbed out of the tub, the chill night air creating gooseflesh all up and down my body. “Calm down man, what is it?”

“Someone just pulled into the garage…fuck. I don’t wanna get shot, man,” he was manic. “Whadda we do? Whadda we do?”

I didn’t know about him, but I was looking around the yard; trying to remember where the gate was. At least, Jim didn’t know who they were. He knew where I LIVED! Then I remembered…there wasn’t a gate. The only way out was through the garage and the only way into the garage was through a door in the kitchen. Shit!

Just then Nat came running out, his magnificent cock scared itty-bitty. He had a pile of clothes in his arms, ran right by me and in a semi-Fosbury flop, high-jumped the fence and the next sound I heard was his car speeding away.

Pete and I looked at each other; our mouths open almost as wide as Kim’s had been when she had us both for simultaneous dessert. Polite hunk that he was, Pete reached out, shook my hand and said, “Great time, man,” and in a flash the last I saw of him was his white ass plopping clumsily over the same fence.

There was only one thing for me to do, there in the well-kept backyard, my clothes across the patio right by the back door where I’d left them hours ago…I slipped into the tub and drank what was left of someone’s beer.

I must have been drunker than I thought for in spite of my racing heart, I found myself becoming quickly more and more relaxed, the stars spinning a bit and just laid my head back and fell into a sound sleep.

My snoring woke me, which is funny since I never knew I snored before. I laughed and opened my eyes to see sitting there in the tub across from me, Ashley. Her blue eyes squinting with glee, her dimpled cheeks in a big, sexy, crooked smile.

“What a surprise to find you here.”

“I was about to say the same,” she giggled. “Mom must’ve been shit-faced. She’s in there spread-eagled snoring away…kind of like you just were.”

“Very funny.” I tried not to look guilty.

“Was it you that was fucking her?”

“Uh, well…”

She cracked up at my stuttering non-confession. “She’s wanted to fuck you for years.”

I was speechless and that rarely happens to old, long-winded me.

“So have I…” she giggled.

I thought I would never speak again. Luckily, she continued after gauging the ridiculous look on my face.

“Once when I was in the 7th grade, I told my mom that I wanted you to be my boyfriend and she said, ‘I know, Honey, you told me that when your were 6.’”

Is it any surprise that I still sat there with my mouth hanging open, my brain slowly frying and my cock hard as a stick shift in a teeager’s first car?

“You know I’d never tell my dad you fucked mom…I know he fucks around on these fucking trips of his, she’s lonely and I’m sure she knows he’s a dog, too. I’ve checked out his e-mails when he’s not around. His password is my birthday... predictable, huh?”

I managed a grunted, “I guess.”

She’s on a roll. A rambling, teen-aged monolog, not expecting much response from me, though she pauses for a glance occasionally to see my reaction or to look down through the water to make sure her words are still having the same effect on me. It’s then I notice she is fully clothed, shoes and all. Was I this spontaneous at 18? Doubt it.

“I’ve never been with a man before…a couple boys have poked around down there but they always spew before they get even close to me…I like boys but they are always such dickwads…Are you okay?”…

Before I even acknowledge that a question has been asked she rolls on, with a sly smile… "I’ve hooked up with more girls than boys, actually. Girls are cool. They like to kiss more.”

She pauses for what seems like forever, looks up into the trees behind the fence as if just now realizing they were there. She’s somewhere else.

“So will you make love to me?” and as my lips part, not knowing what will come out, I feel her slide over and put her lips to mine. I have never felt anything so soft in my 45 years. I can feel her smiling.

She rises, silently taking my hand and I follow her through the sliding glass doors. Her wet clothes soak the carpet beneath us.

We peek into her mother’s room as we pass the open door and Kim is now curled up on her side, the sheets pulled up to her chin. She is still smiling.

Just as Ashley pulls her bedroom door closed behind me, I hear her mom, softly humming that same Crosby song from down the hall.

EXPLORATORY PARTNERS

I had never really heard this term until yesterday. An interesting woman who I had just gotten to know had said the word in our short goodnight after a second long evening of chat together. I was my usual cryptically hestitant self, not giving up any signs of stirring up some passion and she said to me, "Are you at ALL interested in me?" I garbled some scrambled answer meaning to say, "Fuck yes," to which she said something I sort of half heard that included something like "Everybody needs a friend" and "exploratory partner." Huh? What is that?

Of course, being my dense self, I was never quite sure if she was interested in me or how or for what either. So I spun scenarios, fantasies, and questions on my 10 minute ride home and ran into the house to type her a letter trying to clarify my throbbing interest (sorry, such a graphic image for such a more wonderfully complex attraction). Basically, the gist of my letter was...I'm open, what you got?

This morning I got a letter from her (let's call her "Mary" for fun) which spelled things out...distinctly. She thought she and I had similar sexual interests and were in a position to "switch off" when things got too clingy or "traditional". She sounded particularly interested in exploring some pain based scenarios, some S&M fantasy, some interaction based on pushing the sexual envelope a bit, some group stuff.

Uh, I'm in. What else you got? Where do we start. What, has she been reading my journals? Is this an intellectual approach to the age-old "fuck buddy"? I always hated that term but always wanted to have one. My proclivity was always sex=love=relationship and not always in that order. More recently it has been sex=touching god=humanity's oneness with all. More realistically, it could be equated as sex=fun=self-renewal=discovery. More than likely it is something a kin to how much exposure can one's sexual psyche take without exploding in a blissful quagmire of ecstatic NOW. Or as my friend Lars likes to say, sex=ok, I'll be Carlos the Pool Boy and you be the rich dowager.

What I'm trying to say, before I continually interrupt myself, is that this woman hit the nail on the head. I wrote the song "Why Waste Time" years ago and my, how it applies now.

On the one side is fear, on the other side love
and you stand alone in between
and in a shimmering orbit we fly
in a shimmering orbit we fly.

One day we're low and the next we're above
In the middle: the world that we've seen
And in a shivering moment we die
in a shivering moment we die.

so why waste time, why waste time
so why waste time, why waste time

On one side is weakness, on the other side strength
And everything else is a dream
And it's a glimmering tear that we cry
It's a glimmering tear that we cry.

So why waste time, why waste time
Why waste time, why waste time

One side says "No" and the other says "Go"
Chances blow by on the wind
Just a quivering instant gone by
A quivering instant gone by.

So why waste time, why waste time
Why waste time, why waste time*

Mary picked me out of the proverbial line-up and saw "spiritual, sexual, kama sutra, music boy" in the town where she had found little connection at a time when she was re-evaluating celibacy as a part of her spiritual practice and I walk into the door with a Tantric manual tied to my throbbing manhood like a talisman of silly import. Welcome to the high country where the altitude strafes your endurance and the rednecks push your buttons with their elbows so as not to dirty their hands with your fevers. So we are rebels here without applause (unless you call the sound of a paddle slapping a fresh pink ass applause)

As I was trying to say, it is time to allow my sexual proclivities some breathing room; to unbutton their straight-jacket but leave the cuffs on. All good.

I'm looking forward into some role switching with Mary, allowing her aggressor tendencies to slap around my passive side and in exchange give her a bit of her own medicine. I'd love to blindfold her, tie her to a chair and have her listen to Randi and I make love, getting up to tighten the nipple clips on her magnificent breasts, to slide my damp cock across her lips while Randi brushes Mary's face with her flowing hair. This of course would lead to both of them slicking up my hard rod simultaneously before I flip Randi over and slide into her while Mary greases up my anxious ass and enters me with a slippery strap-on, her breasts dangling precariously over my back...for starters...