Archive for December, 2008

Back to Jack…

As he crawled into bed with me, I felt the warmth of his half naked body against mine and even though I really was looking for the basic comfort of his body, my nipples strained against my t-shirt.

This did not go unnoticed, but Jack being Jack, he didn't mention it.  He knows when to speak and when not to and this was definitely not the time.

Instead he sidled up next to me and I again put my head on his chest, laying in the crook of his arm.

He again stroked my hair and whispered against me.

It's the whispering.  That damned whispering gets me every time.

I began to cry again.  Silent tears, all but unnoticed until they of course rolled down the side of my cheek and onto his bare chest.  

Wordlessly he reached out and wiped them away with his thumb before rolling over onto his side, facing me.

"You have to stop being so comforting" I said with a half smile.  He smiled back, understanding...  It was, after all, precisely why I was there.

"Yes, damn me for being a pillar of strength" he laughed, and got out of bed, padding to the kitchen.  He came back a few minutes later with some aspirin and a glass of icy water.

I shook my head as he stood there waiting for me to take them from him.

"Are you trying to be my daddy?" I asked, half-flirting.

"Do you want me to be?" he whispered as I took the glass in my shaking hand.

"Yes" I whispered back as he bent forward and kissed me.

Oh YES.

A Seasonal Sunday Evening with S . . .

Despite him asking on numerous occasions, S and I had been unable to arrange a convenient evening to meet in the last few weeks before Christmas. We’d had to make do with texting our Christmas “wishes” back and forth to each other from our respective family gatherings (he away at his wife’s family, and J and the children and I away for Christmas day and evening at J’s brothers).

Whilst entertaining my own, and J’s, parents on Saturday evening, I received a text from S to say he was returning to London by himself late on Sunday as he had to go back to work on Monday (today as I write this), and would I like to “pop-round” as he still had a present to give me. In between topping-up drinks, cleaning off the plates and loading-up the dishwasher, I whispered S’s invitation to J and asked if he’d mind. (J was also starting back at work this morning, but I have the luxury of not having to return to the office until next Monday. The first time I can remember in ages having such a long break over the Christmas / New Year period). J’s immediate response of a wicked grin and nodding his head, and then a passionate kiss, meant I had little tingles of excitement as I texted back to S to “I’d like that, let me know what time”.

It wasn’t until mid-morning on Sunday (after J and I had enjoyed a passionate evening after the in-laws had left) that I had a further text from S to say he wouldn’t be home until after 8, but would text to let me know. J and I spent the rest of the day cuddling and kissing, with J constantly making suggestions (mostly outrageous ones) as to what I should wear and what I should “do”.

Both the children had a friend round for our Sunday meal and each would be sleeping over, and, I knew, would be staying up late, so I was concerned about how I was going to explain about going out “without Dad” late on a Sunday evening. As I lay in the bath soaking though, I did begin feeling quite naughty and excited . . . here I was on a Sunday evening, preparing to meet with my lover (whom I hadn’t seen for over a month), not at a hotel, but at his own home, and just for an hour or so !

J was constantly coming back and forth into the bathroom, and then following me into the bedroom, continuing his suggestions from the night before, about what I should wear and what I should say. I told him that he was “more excited than I was” and that I didn’t want to “plan” things and just to let me to get ready in peace. I sent him back downstairs to join the kids with their DVD movies and keep them occupied.

I ignored J’s suggestions of wearing just my “boots and stockings” under my coat, and instead chose a new-ish grey woollen dress that I’d treated myself to before Christmas. With earrings and a necklace (both of which S had given me as separate gifts before), and my black heels, I told J (when I saw the slight look of disappointment on his face), that I wanted to feel “comfortable and casual” and not “tarty” this evening.

It was gone 9 before the text came through to say he was home. I replied that I would leave shortly and then called J back to the bedroom, as I finished my make-up, to get him to make sure he kept all the children occupied whilst I left, but to try and get them to go up to their rooms as early as he could. He was nodding excitedly, saying he’d be reminding them that he had work early the next morning, whilst trying to cuddle and caress me. I told him he could only kiss my neck and shoulders so as to not “spoil my lipstick”. He was stroking my bottom and asking if I had any knickers on. “Of course not” I replied. I patted him on his crotch and told him “I expect you to be waiting up for me. Get those kids in bed !!”.

It is only a few minutes walk to his house, and he greeted me at the door with a glass of champagne and a welcoming kiss on the cheek. He hung my coat over the banister and led me into the kitchen for my “present”. I protested that he shouldn’t keep buying me presents but he replied “it’s a tradition”. He was playing with my necklace, “I remember this night”, and telling me how “gorgeous” I looked, as I unwrapped the small parcel. It was another necklace, and I knew, another expensive one. I protested again, but kissed him my thanks as he reached around me to try to fix the clasp around my neck. Once he’d managed to fix it on, we began kissing again, just warmly at first, but then as though we were both releasing weeks and weeks of expectation, it became a gasping passionate squeezing of our lips and tongues.

We hardly ever kiss, not really like this, not the way I kiss J for instance, but the moment just seemed to carry us away and we were both embracing and squeezing into one another in a way I can’t remember us ever having done before. He was rubbing his hands around my hips and bum, and I was sliding mine up and down his back. He reached around and having not even caressed my boobs yet as he normally would, he just suddenly pulled my dress downwards off my shoulders. My nipples were both suddenly exposed and as he leant down to suck at them, I struggled my arms out of each sleeve to cradle his head into them as he sucked and nibbled from one to the other. The weight of our embrace had pushed me backwards into the fridge and I could feel the cold of the door on my back as he pulled the rest of my dress down over my hips and then down to my ankles. He’d already slid down to his knees as I stepped each foot out of the dress at my feet, and as I felt him licking at me I was reaching out with each arm backwards against the fridge and cabinets trying to keep my balance. He is normally so calm and slow that his sudden reactions now had rather taken me by surprise . . . but at the same time had made me incredibly aroused. I was giggling and gasping as I heard some of their magnet-ornaments falling off the fridge door as I was trying to keep my balance whilst at the same time thrusting my hips forward into his mouth and tongue.

I was really wet and really excited and wanted to pull him up for more kisses, but he was resisting my attempts to lift him up, flicking his tongue around me more and then sucking hard at my lips and clit. I had to gasp out to him “I want to taste it, kiss my juices on me please!” before he lifted away and allowed me to pull him up to kiss me again. I sucked his tongue into me and could feel myself rubbing against him with my boobs and legs and pulling him against me. He pulled away for air and said “Lets go upstairs”. But I protested that “I’m the only one who’s naked. I’m not going anywhere until you undress!” I helped him unbutton his shirt and belt and then as he extracted himself from his shirt, I pulled his pants down and dropped down onto my knees as his erection slapped out of his pants against my face. I sucked him straight in, all the way in one motion, as I held him by his bum cheeks and pulled him into me. I slid my mouth back and forth on him as quickly as he’d been tonguing me, and squeezed his cheeks with my nails as hard as I could. He was gasping as much as I had been, and just let me stroke back and forth on him for a few moments more before I stopped and stood back up against him telling him “your tiles are cold”. He laughed and asked if he could take me upstairs now then. I squeezed him and nodded my approval, kissing him again as we had been a few minutes before. I don’t know why, possibly because I was so aroused, but I suddenly just wanted to kiss him and feel his tongue pushing into my mouth.

As we stepped over our clothes, he handed me my glass and then picked up his, and the huge bottle of champagne, and led me round to the stairs. As I followed him up to the bedroom I could see the scratch marks my nails had left on his bum cheeks . . . I could feel a tingly excitement, but also a slight “god what have I done” feeling as we walked. I wanted to tell him so that he could “hide” the scratches, but felt guilty and stupid at the same time. As he sat back on the bed and extended the bottle towards my glass I blurted out “I’ve scratched you”. He looked quizzically at me for a moment whilst I explained myself, but then just laughed pulling me down onto the bed telling me they “never see each other naked anyway”.

It only took a few minutes of kisses and caresses before I’d forgotten about my indiscretion and I became as worked-up and aroused as I had been in the kitchen. S was much more himself now, and was stroking and probing slowly with his fingers and tongue. He does do lovely things with his fingers . . . I just lay on my side with one leg lifted over his hip whilst he sucked and licked my nipples and slid his free hand slowly around my pussy.

Sometimes my nipples get too sensitive too quickly and I have to stop them being sucked after just a few minutes, but now I was really enjoying and encouraging him “harder” and loved hearing him say how erect they were. His fingers were already pushing into me at the same time and I just lay my head back and enjoyed being able to groan and tell him how lovely it was feeling without having to worry about being in a hotel room somewhere and not being able “to let myself go”. He was telling me how he loved to hear me “talking like that” and I started to groan louder as I felt myself becoming more and more aroused.

I pushed his head away from my chest and down to my pussy, turning over more onto my back and lifting my hips up so he could slide both hands down around me now. I looked down and my nipples were really hard and standing up, I reached around with each hand pinching at them myself and saying “look at me, I want to see you looking up at me from there”. I groaned as he gasped that he loved seeing me playing with myself. I slid one hand down in front of his tongue and tried to spread my lips wider with my fingers. I felt his tongue on my clit and fingers inside me. And then as he turned me slightly over to one side and opened my legs wider, I could hear myself gasping more and groaning as his tongue slid round to my bottom. I was rubbing my fingers quickly over my clit as I felt his tongue pushing at my bottom. “I fucking love that tongue there. Fuck me with it, push it, push . . . “ I came really loudly, I could hear myself and I knew I wanted to be loud as well, as though I was letting him know what he was doing to me, how much it meant to me, how wildly intoxicating and arousing it made me feel.

I rolled over onto my side, shaking and still gasping. I pulled him up “cuddle please”, wrapping myself around him, muzzling my face into his shoulder and kissing him there and asking him to “just squeeze”. We lay tightly together for some minutes before I could relax enough to let him go and roll over onto my back. He snuggled up beside me and we exchanged kisses. Normal ones now. The pecking, friendly kind, that we would normally do. Not the feverish passionate swallows of the kitchen earlier. As we lay together we began talking about our Christmas’s . . . giggling that we hadn’t even exchanged such pleasantries, when I’d arrived. We chatted about the family gatherings we’d both had. The gifts, the food, the waste . . . and the misbehaving by various members of each of our extended families.

We must have talked for over an hour. Each occasionally sitting-up to top-up our glasses until the bottle was empty. I asked him how his scratches were, and he rolled over onto his tummy to let me “inspect the damage”. I kissed his cheeks and then the small of his back, rubbing my nipples over his bum and then turned him back over . . . to find he was now erect again, his willy standing up to meet me, almost begging me to . . .

Lean forward and slide him into my mouth. I do love that feeling. The warmth and hardness, and smoothness as I slide my mouth up and down. With J I can enjoy scraping my teeth on him and biting at his head, but S doesn’t enjoy that, saying he is too tender, so I make do with sucking upwards until the suction makes a “pop” as I pull my mouth away, and then push forward, sucking it in again and sliding my face down to his tummy. I pull away and lick around him. S is really smooth at the base of his cock above his testicles, much more so than J, and I love licking him there even though he says it doesn’t give him any increase of sensation. He doesn’t like me sucking on his balls, but I cup them with my fingers as I slide my mouth down on his willy again. I then lifted away and slide each nipple over the his head before sliding further up his chest to kiss him again and start to lift myself onto him. He grasped me by my hips and wanted to turn me over, but I manage to stop him, telling him “I want to do this”, illustrating my point by rubbing my pussy over the head of his cock and then pushing down on him to slide him into me. I gasp with the feeling and lift forward looking down between both our chests so that I can see myself lifting up off him and pushing back down on him again, watching him disappear inside me.

I was really aroused again now, and continuing to slide up and down on him, I lean forward to kiss his neck and nibble and tongue his ear, telling him “I love feeling you inside me like this”. I can feel him returning my thrusts and we continue like this for several minutes as I sit up more on him and he reaches up to scrape the palms of his hands over my nipples. I can feel myself increasing my bouncing and my groans, leaning my head forwards again to kiss at his chest and shoulders.

As we slow down for a minute, S reached down and turned me over onto my tummy. He then slid down the bed to start kissing me on the bum cheeks now . . . and then parting my legs gently and kneeling in between them, his kisses changed to just his tongue. I can feel it sliding over each cheek and then down between them. As he licks it towards my bottom again I can feel myself almost involuntarily lifting up and spreading my legs wider. He has a hand on each hip and lifts me up more now . . . I lift up onto my knees, gasping as his tongue pushes deeper. He is sliding each hand in turn around between my legs, brushing at first, over my pussy, and then rubbing and then sliding with his fingers. I try to concentrate on all the feelings of his fingers stroking and pushing, and of his tongue pushing at me as well.

He stops for a moment and I feel him getting up off the bed. I know he is going to his bedside cabinet and then I feel him back on the bed, his tongue licking out and pushing against me again. J has asked me before why I don’t “lose it” then, as I sometimes do with him if I am in the mood and then suddenly something stops or changes. But I can’t explain it other than to say that with S, for some reason, it seems to heighten my arousal, rather than dampen it. Almost as though I am willing the feeling, and being teased and tantalised, before feeling that first sudden slippery push.

I can hear myself gasping and, on completely private occasions like this in his own home, I almost enjoy being louder and more vocal with my groans. His fingers are sliding around me again, and I can push back against him and feel that pushing, engulfing feeling and the swirling, tingling fingers around me. We are both rocking back and forth, and both gasping and groaning loudly. In between our groans, he his asking me “are you ok” and “what do you want”. I know he likes me like this and am gasping back “yes, don’t stop it.” I have to have both hands pushed out onto the bed to keep my balance . . . but need his fingers on me again, so I lift one hand up for a moment to find his hand to pull it back round in front of me. “My clit” I’m gasping at him and then supporting myself from falling forward again, I can hear myself telling him “fuck me, fuck me there”. This time I know he is coming and I need it too, and as I hear him crying out, I can feel myself pumping myself back at him and at the same time twisting myself round on his fingers. I have to lift my hand up off the bed again to push his hand and hold it against my clit and then just explode with the feeling.

We both fall forward as I’m coming and I don’t even feel him coming out of me as it’s such a huge emotional surge. As we shudder and shake from side to side into the bed though, I can feel the wetness between my legs . . .

We lay together on our tummies, recovering and whispering each other thanks. “God, huge one” he is saying, and I reply “me too”. Eventually as we regain our breath and adjust ourselves to cuddle into one another, he tells me how much he’d been thinking about that “for weeks” and how he’d been worrying that he wouldn’t be able to “manage” it to be as good as he wanted it to be. But it had been “even better”. I agreed and we congratulated ourselves on how lucky we were to be able to have times like these. Laying cuddled together, we dozed and talked, trying to keep each other from falling asleep but too exhausted to stir, or want to look at the clock.

Eventually I had to untangle myself though, and apologetically lift him up to say I had to go home. “Why couldn’t you stay tonight, just this once?” was his reply. But he knew I couldn’t stay, “especially as J is working, and I’ve got four kids to breakfast and sort out for the day!”

We stumbled back downstairs and S laughed as I pulled my coat on and asked “have you got a bag I can take my dress home in?” “It’s freezing out there you know” he said. But I replied that I’d walk quickly. He told me he was walking me home anyway and he’d get me a bag. He brought me my shoes and dress from the kitchen and I admired my two necklaces in the hallway mirror whilst he got himself dressed and then brought me an extra coat “just until we get to your door”.

S was right, it was freezing, but we were home in a few minutes. I pulled him into the shadows of our entrance to give him a final goodnight kiss and thank him for the necklace and for seeing me home. He thanked me for “making his Christmas” . . . I waited until he’d turned the corner, and then quietly let myself in. J was asleep on the sofa (I’d forgotten to text him that I was on my way), but he woke as I stepped up to him. I stood in front of him and then opened my coat and theatrically let it drop to the floor. He gasped and sat up instantly, leaning forward to kiss my tummy and then slide his face down to my pussy. I stepped away in mock disappointment asking him why he hadn’t waited for me naked as he normally did, but he reminded me that we had “visitors” upstairs. “Well you’d better close both the doors and hope they’re sound asleep then !!! “

Her Scent…

I love the smell of a woman's body.  Her scent is something that gets me really turned on.  Along with that, is the taste.  Not just the obvious places but also her neck, the taste of her skin as I run my tongue down her belly, or along the tender skin of her inner arms.

I love love love kissing and licking Storm, EVERYWHERE.  I can't get enough of her taste and sometimes I lie between her legs and bury my nose and inhale.

But Storm barely has any scent.  She isn't OCD or anything, but still it is only the rare occasion when I can actually smell her.

So the other day I asked her if she would do something for me.  

I asked her if she would stop shaving her pussy for a while.  

She nodded and said she would but kind of looked at me like she wasn't clear as to why.  So I explained it. I had the whole speech laid out in my head and when I got finished, barely breathing throughout the entire thing, she laughed and hugged me and said she would.

I know guys like women to be shaved, or at least trimmed, and trimmed is fine, but I think in this instance I am missing something.  I feel kind of selfish asking this but she thinks I am being silly.  She says it is no big deal, and since she isn't really hairy anyway, keeping neatly trimmed will not be a big deal for her.  I offered to do it for her, and at any time it's her choice if she wants to switch back to shaving, the same as it would be if she had decided one day she wanted to stop shaving.

I don't have any "hair" fetishes, so that isn't it.

I just want to be able to smell and taste her pussy and I think this will "help". I might be wrong.

So I ask you, readers, is this weird for me to want this?  Or selfish of me to ask?

I know, anything someone is into is not weird, and yada yada and all that.  I'm comfortable with all my sexual perversions and desires, so it isn't about that.

I just want to know if anyone else has asked something similar of their lover?

Storm didn't bat an eye about it.  She thought it was cute that I was so concerned.

Alpha males, beta boys

There’s the type of guy who yanks a girl’s hair back and pulls her skirt up in the corner of a deserted physics lab.

And then there’s the type of guy who gives head all night and doesn’t want anything in return.

Alpha males and beta boys — there’s pros and cons to each type.

Alphas are gods in bed because they’ve mastered all the tricks in the book and then some, and they’ve got all kinds of manskills to woo a girl. In relationships, though, they tend to be aggressive chauvinists.

Betas know how to please a girl through his sensitivity to her body language, but he lacks the extra umph to make the experience a wild ride. These guys, though emotionally available and sensitive to girls’ utmost needs, tend to become like lost little puppies and their lack of independence can be a total turn-off.

Seems having to pick one over the other is a vain attempt at choosing the lesser of two evils. But hey, who says a girl can’t have both? I’ll go ahead and have one of each.

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Flowers, chocolates and diamonds, oh my!

Invited to lunch by a girlfriend I hadn’t heard from in a while, I know she’s having problems with her man. That’s how it goes; a girl disappears when she finds herself a new man, and reapperas on the radar when he starts acting up.

So starts the boyfriend-bashing: she had caught him with another girl. She then goes on to say that he had called her a couple days after the incident to apologize.

“Well, what exactly did he say?” I ask.

“He offered me some molly,” she says.

I choke on my linguini as a frantically muster a “and you forgave him?” 

“I guess so,” she replies with a shrug.

Apparently, molly is the new “I’m sorry” item for guys who screw up, and it works. Forget flowers, chocolates and diamonds. It’s all about drugs, not hugs.

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Sex on the first date

According to the November issue of Cosmo, the hot bachelors or 2008 as chosen by the magazine’s editors say that sex on the first date shows that a girl is skanky and that she isn’t relationship material.

Newsflash, boys: we think the same thing when you put out, too.

The hell with girls having to play innocent while the guys high-five each other as they rack up their numbers. It’s called a double standard, and it’s way outdated.

In any case, the “so, what kind of music do you listen to” small talk and the “should I or should I not invite him upstairs” pause at the end of the night after the first date is unbearably uncomfortable, anyway.

So screw first dates all together.

What about a “getting to know you” session out on the dance floor and then an “I can barely hear you but whatever” conversation at the bar over a rum and coke? And then we ’ll skip the “should I or should I not” and just go on upstairs. Hell, I’ll just start taking his shirt off right there at the door.

Take that, hot bachelors of 2008.

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Its Not Between Bad Boys and Nice Guys Anymore



I have to admit this was a distinction that a respected member on the forum RSDNation "Rockavon" made on one of his posts.

I love rsdnation. Its a great high traffic forum filled with aspiring “Pick Up Artists” as well as high quality instructors which facilitates some great quality content, and pretty much everything you would want to know or would need to know about how to get better with women.

So I know we have many debates about the Bad Boy vs Nice Guy. Well I’m here to talk about a paradigm shift and to say that maybe its neither that is getting the girls.

So if its not the bad boys. And its not the nice guys. Who is really winning? Well the Good Guy. Rockavon shares some of the characteristics of a Good Guy.

Boys and Girls, please read on and tell me what you think.

The Good Guy
He gets out of the house and is really social.

He uses his value based reality to naturally become selective.

He encourages the girl to GAME him.

He rewards good behavior with displays of intent.

He takes care of himself and his body and his avatar so he is always looking and feeling his best.

He is willing to walk away at any moment or disqualify himself at the sight of second class behavior that doesn't live up to his expectations.

He is above all the petty stuff that people do, his self esteem is too high for that stuff to affect him and his ego is in check.

He is un-reactive to button pushing because his ego is in check and his self esteem is too high.

He knows how to lead, escalate, and kino(touch)

He knows how to quickly screen for logistics

He knows how to qualify authentically at the right time

He is not too easily won over but always somewhat interested

He is in touch with his sexual core

Now while some of these terms you may not be sure what they mean, I hope you are able to get an overall scope of what a good guy is. All I was thinking while I was reading that list is Hot, Hot, Hot.

Girls, I dare you to challenge me and tell me this is something that you wouldn’t find appealing!

So if that is a definition of a good guy, then what is a nice guy? Well its my belief that nice guys don’t get girls.

Haven’t you noticed that every hot chick will have at least ONE male best friend who we all know is secretly IN LOVE with her, but just can’t seem to figure out how to get her to like him?

Come’on girls spill the truth here.

I see it EVERYWHERE!

Ok so what do I believe are some of the characteristics of a nice, needy and insecure guy?

Read on ….

The Nice Guy

He will do anything and everything to please his woman

He seeks approval and praise constantly

He is emotionally unstable and relies on situations, other people and external influences to make him happy

He self esteem could do some work

He may not believe that he is worthy of a particular girl or type

He is to a certain extent socially impaired

He sets no clear boundaries with women

He thinks that being friends with a woman will increase his chances of dating her

He denies/suppresses his sexual needs

He can also come across as sexually needy

He thinks the nicer he is to a woman the more they will like him

He apologizes for this actions and his thoughts, worried that he will offend her

He thinks the more time he spends with a woman the more she will like him

He has very little idea of how the game works

He may see learning about pick up as manipulative rather than a personal development journey.

Now here is the thing guys. Its no longer the bad boys vs. the nice guy.

Its the good guys that are winning the race. These are the guys with generally good hearts, with social apt and the strength and unapologetic nature of a bad boy.

These are your pick up artists who learn through books, coaching and experience .. on how to really sweep you off your feet.

Nothing wrong with that. Bring em on.

For those of you men who want to know how move from the Nice Guy to the Good Guy, then please take my survey and receive my video which will help you make the transition.

Hot Alpha Female

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A Beautiful Tree, A Beautiful Boy….

So this is the only picture we could even get of the tree, which was taken on one of our phones, but it shows we actually DID decorate it!

Of course, when we were finished with the lights, and the sun had faded, we decided to take a break.

Like teenagers, we fell onto the couch, his cock poking me in the hip as we kissed. We knew we only had a set amount of time before my daughter and her fiancee came home.

As I reached into his jeans and pulled out his gorgeous cock, it began to drip in my hand.

I pushed him off me, startling him and sat up on the couch.  The great thing about Finn is never having to explain what I want him to do. He may be surprised at first, but he catches on immediately.

He stood in front of me, back to the front hallway (and front door) while I took his cock in my mouth.  It wasn't until I had been savoring it for about 20 minutes that he finally grabbed my hair and urged me to please let him cum.

I looked up into those gorgeous eyes of his, all the while stroking his cock.

Then, my text alert on my phone signaled the impending arrival we were expecting.

The look on his face was priceless.  He held his breath, wondering how long we had.

"We have all the time in the world if we just move to the bedroom" he suggested eagerly.

"Oh but that wouldn't be as much fun" I replied, grinning mischievously at him.

He was not amused. If he could have stomped his feet he would have.

Poor baby.

But then I had read the message and knew something he didn't.  They were only coming home for a few minutes before going out to a friend's for the evening.

"They'll be home in 5 minutes. We'll have to resume this later" I said as I carefully laid his cock against his belly and tried in vain to get his jeans zipped up.  He grabbed it and got the zipper up but he was really agitated.

I LOVE when he is agitated.  He's just so cute.  He paces and runs his hands through his hair and grumbles. 

I ignored him for the most part and he finally calmed down.

Of course, the next look was even better than the first when my daughter ran in, announced they were going to a friend's and ran out.

I looked at Finn who looked clearly annoyed. He stood up, walked to the front door and watched them drive away.

Then he walked back into the living room.

I held my breath because he really did look mad, which would be so unlike him.

Then a smile broke out on his face.

"We should get these ornaments on the tree" he said, grinning.

Not missing a beat, I turned and agreed.

And we did get the ornaments on the tree.

But first I got pinned down and fucked on the floor in front of it.




Lights…….. Action!

Finn and I are putting lights and ornaments on the tree today.

I'm a bit late this year.  Although last year, Johnny and I bought a tree on the 20th I think.  We got a great deal because it was crazy cold, like today, and so close to Christmas.

So Finn is on his way over, and I have a Santa hat for him to wear.

That's all.  Just a Santa hat.

I don't really want him in anything else.

I like my men in minimal holiday clothing.

Wine with Dinner…



Of course, there was wine with dinner.  Lots of wine actually.

Finally, after the wine had relaxed me, Jack asked if I was tired.  I was exhausted by this point. I had cried on his shoulder, we had talked for hours, and he had fed me an amazing meal.

I nodded, and yawned.  He laughed.

Then, the pregnant pause.

Shuffling feet, hands in pockets.  Metaphorically speaking anyway.

"I can sleep out here on the couch if you like.  You take the bed.  You need sleep." he said, and the color rose in his cheeks.

Or did I imagine that?

I felt a twinge of disappointment but was too tired to think it through so I got up and started getting ready for bed.

A few minutes later, I fell into the crisp linen sheets and pulled the covers up around me.

Jack came in, kissed me chastely goodnight, and tucked me in before leaving, flipping the light out as he left the room.  He left the door cracked and I fell asleep with the sound of music playing in the living room, and the sureness of his footfall on the wood floors.

A while later I rolled over and reached for him but he was not there.  

"Jack" I whispered into his pillow, snuggling into the covers.

And then I saw him, standing in the doorway in pajama bottoms, leaning against the frame, arms crossed over his chest.

I tossed back the covers as he crossed the room and slid into bed next to me. The light from the other room crept in to light his frame before we burrowed into the blankets and it all but disappeared.