The noisy little bastards across the street, er - I mean the neighbors' children were playing some kind of hit the ball with the stick and run the bases game yesterday in the yard... It was the usual raggedy bunch of boys probably aged anywhere from 7 to 13 or so, but among them as an avid participant in the game was a girl I'd never seen before. She appeared to be about as old as the oldest boy in the group - just about the same age that M was when I started fooling around with her a lifetime ago. I couldn't help but wonder if the oldest boy across the street was looking at her "that way" or if he was still pathetically stuck at the Girls are Yucky stage. I sort of remember making the change myself. It was abrupt. One day there was M - just the girl down the street and my sister's best friend, and the next there was M with budding tits, full lips, a swagger in her ass that couldn't be missed. It took all the courage I'd ever mustered to kiss her and casually press my palm to one of her breasts one day when my sister left the room. When she returned my kiss and made no effort to move the hand which lingered upon her, I knew the risk had been worth it. I sort of pity boys for having to go through that putting it all on the line when it comes to taking the first baby steps from boyhood to manhood when it comes to girls. Maybe girls go through the same thing, but I don't know how that would feel.
No blog entry from the yard today. It looks like we're on the verge of Armageddon out there. The five day forecast at Yahoo made me think for a split second that I'd won the jackpot on a slot machine - nothing but the same thunderstorm cloud across the board clear through the weekend. Ick!
It's been two weeks since I last felt the tip of a hard cock in the back of my throat and I'm so looking forward to getting some this evening. I can lose myself in sucking a dick, as I can when I'm lapping a tasty pussy. There are times when I have to tear myself away from sucking one of Dee's guys because I know she's ripe to feel him in her pussy or ass. There's an unusual kind of perverted satisfaction in sucking somebody fully hard so he can fuck my wife, and, if the position, the tone of the evening, and my mood allow, to finger or lick his balls while he's pounding away inside her. I'm so glad to be experiencing all of these amazing sexual variations that I'd thought I'd carry to my grave as mere fantasies. I love Dee so much for allowing me this. I know she feels the same about me as she often expresses her thanks to me for it all.
It's weird not to be particularly horny today of all days considering that tonight is playtime and that I wrote just a few days ago about how I've been coming awake to a hard cock and naughty thoughts most mornings. Dee woke me from a deep REM sleep (I know because I was dreaming something about being in a bunker of sorts.) before my alarm was set to go off, and I, thinking that she was ready to head out to work early that very minute, sprang to my feet to give her a worthy sendoff. The sudden rising totally disoriented me. While I'm not a snooze bar smacker any more, I do usually lie there for a minute or two after the alarm sounds before trying to get on my feet. Today, that first attempt at getting vertical made me think I was on the high seas in a tempest - in a row boat. Woozy! No erection. No dirty thoughts. I'm sure, though, that Mike will do his best in our daily mails to get me all hot and bothered as the day goes on and we anticipate together our naked time with Dee, and hopefully, Don too later today.
To a certain bloggerette friend... Have you any inkling of how much I wish you could be a part of an evening such as the one I'm looking forward to enjoying today? From my talking to you behind the scenes of our blogs you've become a dear friend. Someone with whom I feel a sweet emotional bond. Someone I trust with my life. I wish I could express the warm, tender, and wonderful things I feel for you in making love, just as Dee does with her closest lovers. I think of you often when we're at the motel. If I could send you a postcard from there, it would read the somewhat trite but ever truthful, Wish YOU were here.
My brain is scaring me today because right after expressing that sweet sentiment, I'm thinking that I hope we don't get the room this evening with the track marks on the ceiling. They're distracting. Two brown streaks each about a foot long - like something you'd find in a pair of white briefs but longer and wider. As if somebody wiped his dirty ass against the rough plaster finish. I can't help but wonder what the hell they are and how they got there. I mean, I'm quite certain that we're not the only folks who use those rooms for a few hours rather than overnight, but I don't know if I'd want to meet the person capable of the acrobatics that would have his ass dragging across the ceiling during a fun romp. Well, unless the he is a she who made those strange marks during her dismount. (And the Russian judge gives her a 7. Booooo!)
Shit, I'm almost done here and it's not even 9 AM. What to do for the rest of the day to keep my hand out of my pants? I'll let you know if anything pops up! ;)
I really have no idea of how Dee and Mike manage to
get and keep her feet up on his shoulders like this,
but undoubtedly I'll hear her mewling her approval again
this evening when they're joined like this in their favorite
position and his cock is working its particular magic on her.
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