wannabe

Today I saw someone so beautiful I was kind of stunned by my reaction. I was attending an event at work, and since I was 'on duty' more or less, I was standing at the back of a large room of people who were all watching a demonstration.

Suddenly I heard someone struggling to open the door behind me which I had discovered earlier was kind of 'sticky'. So I proceeded to open it for them. Well, no sooner did I open it when I was face to face (literally) with a most angelic woman.

I was taken aback slightly by her beauty, then realized I recognized that face, and found the sense to greet her. I had seen her before on TV and on book covers, and knew she was an attractive woman, but I'd always figured she was enhanced by photoshop/makeup/whatever. Nope.

As she entered the room she was immediately recognized by the one doing the demonstration. She was acknowledged and asked to come up on stage, and I admit I couldn't help but watch her every move.

I was glued to her, noticing her perfect figure, her porcelain-like skin and deep brown eyes, the way she walked, the clothes she wore, the way she pulled her blonde hair back and pinned it up, even the soft wisps of blonde that fell on the nape of her neck. For a moment I imagined kissing that spot on the back of her neck.

I thought, holy shit, that woman is sexy! I was sort of shocked at my attraction to her. Later I realized that her persona is everything I've been trying to be for the last 30 years. That is how I wanted to appear to others. A woman of utter elegance, poise, physical beauty, knowledge, and well-liked.

I have no immediate plans to give up my love and lust for the opposite sex. But I'll tell ya, if I was going to venture to the other side, I'd love to start with someone like her. She looked good enough to eat!

tune of the month - death by chocolate

the pendulum swings...again

I indulged in something today that I haven't had in months. I actually spent a few hours lying in bed watching tv! And you know what? I found it was a really good thing for me.

I even felt a shift in my brain after watching a couple shows. And I realized something. There's a reason why I've been feeling so unimaginative, dull and dunce lately. Other than my job, Facebook, Skype and sexual activities, I'm taking in virtually no new stimulation. While my left brain, heart and pussy have been thoroughly satisfied, I've been starving my poor right brain.

Well, that's not entirely true. I just finished reading a 1,000 page novel that took me almost a year to read (Facebook and Skype got in the way). But the story took place in the 14th century, so there wasn't a lot there I could use in my daily life. And it didn't prompt a lot of discussion with friends.

As I stood back and took notice of this new discovery, I realized that my pendulum is swinging once more.

Over the last 3 1/2 years, Rob and I built our relationship on intense one-on-one time. We have mostly been living in a bubble--a self-created world where we focus only on each other and create beautiful love together. We found that hanging out with other couples or going places, while enjoyable, really paled in comparison to the deeply emotional and sexual experiences we had in our private world.

But in doing so, I found that I am now missing the outside world. I feel a little isolated, and worse yet, inadequate. In social situations, I feel I have little to talk about. I've become a little self-conscious about it too. My 2 favorite topics have become relationships and sex. And you can't have those conversations with just anybody!

I don't feel that Rob is socially progressive. He lives a quiet life and loves to be alone (or with me) in nature. He avoids crowds and busy or noisy places. Although he enjoys partying with his friends a few times a year, he's never the one to make contact with them. He's a good dad, but doesn't even keep in touch with the rest of his family. So naturally, as we stay together, we are inclined to do more of the same--staying in, talking, making love.

I think this is why Andy is so appealing to me at this point in my life. I'm craving more interaction with the world, and he's very aware of his world, socially and creatively. I do feel my life gravitating towards Andy. And someday I may be living with him on the west coast while Rob is thousands of miles back home on the east coast. In all likelihood I may eventually crave the 'bubble time' that Rob and I have had.

Go figure. That pendulum keeps on moving. Change is imminent, but luckily with change comes growth, and that's a really good thing for me.

dreaming in technicolor

Dear Andy,

I wanted to tell you about a dream I had last night. It was so vivid.

It took place in the house where my ex and I lived. He and I were separated but still living there together. We were getting along one day so we were going to have a little party. He was in the kitchen cooking. Our neighbors dropped by and I invited them in. I remember seeing a couple big steaks go in a pan and asking them if they ever had the chipotle steak from the corner deli.

Out came the wine. I got drunk. Next thing I knew you and I were in my bedroom, it was kind of dark. I was wearing my ruffly black skirt and I had thick black hair with lots of different colored streaks in it. (??) You brought me something to taste --some foamy stuff. I didnt know what it was and you said, here, I'll show you.

I was on my knees and you were standing above me, you squeezed your cock and all this white foamy stuff oozed out, some got in my eye, and then ran down my cheek. We heard my ex coming up the stairs and before he opened the door, you slipped into the bathroom. I ran into the other bathroom.

I remember trying to brush my hair cuz it was completely messed up. I was also trying to untangle my panties and get them back on. Then he walked in all suspicious, and I was trying to play it cool. He held up my charm bracelet in front of my face (i dont even have one) and asked me whats this? It turned out that I admitted I was with you, he sort of conceded and that's where the dream ended.

Sorry, I dont think we got any steak...I love you!

early mother's day

I'm starting to think about what to get my mom for Mother's Day this year. Last year, all us girls in the family got together and made a meal. A month later I treated her to a day at a quaint, little spiritual community about an hour from where she lives. That was great.

This year I'd like to give her something that'll really turn her crank. A hot Latin lover. The one in this picture will be just fine. Can't see the prize, but it's probably pretty safe to assume all is adequate in that department! Mom is 70+ but has always loved men. (It runs in the family.) And she loves guys with the Spanish/Latin look, so I have picked this one out especially for her.

Have fun, Mama! Love ya.

parisian dreams

Andy sends me an email every single night with a pic attached. Because he's in a time zone 3 hours behind me, I don't see the email till morning. But it's the first one I open when I get to work. Hell, it's a reason to look forward to going to work!

One recent morning he sent me these. He always talks about wanting to live in Paris someday...with me. I've never argued with the idea, but I clearly didn't feel it the same as he did. These pictures actually captured my heart.

I was instantly transported to that spot. Andy was standing behind me, his arms around my waist, as we looked out onto the morning sunrise. I felt his breath on the back of my neck, I smelled the coffee brewing in the next room, I felt his happiness because I was a part of his dream come true.

What would this new day bring? Would we wander down to the flea market in the center of town and rifle through the treasures? Stroll along the Seine like a couple of young lovers? Waste away hours sipping coffee and people watching at an outdoor cafe? All 3?

last chance to love

Some people are better than others at doing the tough stuff. They're the ones who are always there to help, whether it be a little old lady trying to cross the street, organizing a fundraiser, rescuing someone in trouble, joining the services to fight for their country, or support a friend in their last days on earth.

No task seems too gruelling for these extraordinary individuals. They think nothing of putting their time, their energy, their emotion, even their lives on the line, for the benefit of others.

I have such a friend. He is forever helping. He is a former Marine, father of four, grandfather of four (so far), and a truly inspirational and loving soul. He lives a simple life, unencumbered by the need to succeed at a career, but the man has riches beyond what most of us will ever have. It certainly may never have been our purpose, but it's clearly his. He is an angel on earth.

Today he posted a photo on Facebook that made me cry. It's a photo of him at the bedside of his dying cousin. My 6'4" burly and bearded friend was photographed embracing the fragile emaciated body of his cancer-stricken cousin and lifelong buddy. The smaller one is resting his head in my friend's strong arm. They both have their eyes closed with smiles that appear somewhat defeated, yet peaceful.

I am moved to tears just about every time I think about it today. I can feel the gratitude of the dying man to have the love, care and comfort of his strong, healthy cousin. Just being there must mean everything to him. To know someone cares that much. To not be alone when it counts most. To help someone pass must be one of the most difficult and emotional experiences of a lifetime. But perhaps it can be a beautiful thing too. Especially if it's peaceful and painless.

We can only hope that we each have our own angel by our side to help ease our passing. I know that that is important to me. And I would like to help all the people I love in the same way. It's the ultimate final gift, wouldn't you say?

last chance to love

My sister Lynn skyped me the other night. She was crying. She'd taken her 12 yr old cat to the vet and was told he had only days to live.

Butch had a heart condition that was making it difficult for him to catch his breath or have any energy at all. He'd been eating, but losing weight for months. Lynn was overwhelmed with worry, sadness, and guilt. Guilt for not having taken him to the vet sooner, for having complained about having a cat, and for not giving him attention when he wanted it.

Guilt is such a waste of energy. I tried to get her to focus on what she had done right, and what she should do now. It was too late to save him, fix him, nurse him back to health. Butch was on his way home. I had hoped she would spend her last days loving him as best she could...telling him happy things about where he's going, wishing him a peaceful journey.

Easy for me to say, he wasn't my cat.

I didn't hear from Lynn for the next couple days. When I finally tried to reach her again, she didn't answer her phone. Finally I called my mom and got the word that Butch had died just that morning. I saw Lynn today. She is now going through the grieving process and she will be ok. But I did hear her relate how she sat with him a lot over his last full day and talked to him and reassured him that it was ok to go. Even in his suffering he purred as if to say I love you back. An animal's final act of selfless love.

hair to be loved (a look at Andy)

As you know, I can't study one of my men without also thinking of the other. When it comes to hair Andy is pretty much a 180 of Rob.

When Andy was young he had masses of dark brown hair which, with the help of all that 80s product, made him stand out in a crowd. Years later, when he started losing his gorgeous locks, he shaved his head right bald. He's blessed with a very nicely shaped head and really nice facial features, so I think he looks quite sexy as a bald man. And he carries it well. Confidence is everything.

I have never had a bald boyfriend before Andy. As a young girl I admired Yul Brynner in The Ten Commandments--that's my first recollection of equating bald with sexy. Then once Howie Mandel shaved his head, I was certain that was something worth pursuing. Not that I ever really pursued one of these types...

But I was certainly intrigued when I ran into Andy after 29 years and saw that he was bald. Now, I like stroking his head while we're in bed, and kissing it. I think his baldness emphasizes his wonderful smile and deep brown eyes.

Andy also has facial hair, something I'd never liked before. He shaves his face only once a week or so, but looks so great in his scruff. It makes my face red when he kisses me, but the redness is sort of my badge of honor. I love to hold his face in my hands, feeling his beard and looking into his eyes.

His body is fairly hairy. Kind of average amount for the chest and stomach hair, but extremely soft. He does not trim as far as I can tell, but because his hair is so soft, I have no problem with it. In fact, I love brushing my face against it, even sleeping against him.

Also, never before have I had a man with hair on his ass or his back. I was strangely ok with Andy's, again, I think, because it wasn't excessive and it was very soft. He so loved when I touched him, as if he'd been deprived of someone who could truly appreciate him.

hair to be loved (a look at Rob)

The other night as I was making love to Rob, the fingers of my left hand were stroking the top of the soft, slightly furry crevice of his butt while my right hand grabbed the meaty cheek and pulled him in deeper. It was at that moment that I decided I would soon be blogging about my appreciation for body hair...of the male sort, of course.

I don't think I've spent much time on this topic. There are so many aspects of the male body to chat about, and I think hair can be a real turn on, or a turn off for some. It is definitely subject to personal preference. It seems the teen to 30 age group is repulsed by male body hair. I see many shaved or waxed chests and backs on younger guys (in pictures, of course). And my teengae daughters think that hairy men are gross. Personally, I think the younger generations are missing out. But they'll discover it in due time.

Rob is very aware of his body hair. He grooms himself to avoid any unruly bushlike growth. We enjoy oral sex so much that an excessive amount of hair could really interfere with the pleasure. It's a bit wiry in texture down there, so I like how Rob keeps it short. It also makes his cock look bigger. Imagine that!

In warmer weather he also trims his chest hair and armpits. I do notice he appears younger (more boyish?) right after the 'cut'. That can be stimulating, leading to some different fantasies. But I don't think I would like him totally hairless there, except maybe his armpits which would make them more lickable. But even a little hair is ok to lick. Mmmm. Cleanliness is king. I just love the thought of appreciating his defined muscles with my tongue. It's a friggin playground.

The hair on his stomach is so soft and inviting. I love the natural trail leading down to his penis. It begs me to follow it. And I often do. I love to lay my face against his warm stomach. It feels like home to me.

Rob has a hairless ass. First of all, I can't discuss Rob's ass without saying that it is the most beautiful one I've ever seen. He could do an ass calendar, for God's sake! It's perfect in every way--soft, smooth, strong and hard all at the same time. A soft smathering of hair graces his crack, and I play with it when we make love. I can't help it. It makes me want more. And he's started to really like what I do to his ass. But that's a topic in and of itself. Yeah, that's a really good one!

Thanks to Justtim Again's Pit Stop for photo. Ain't it a beaut?

farewell, old friend

Today was new car day! Yes, I was really excited about picking up my sporty little car, but I was also sad as I had to retire an old trusty friend.

I caught myself actually talking to her on my way to the dealership. I thanked her for having taken such good care of me and my passengers over the last 7 years, for never breaking down or leaving me stranded on a dark road, for getting me home safely in some God-awful snowstorms, hailstorms, and a near hurricane.

She had a nice big backseat that Rob and I had fucked in a few times, and a front seat that Andy and I kissed in about 300 times (all in one night). I lovingly washed her big black body with my own hands whenever I had time, and got her oil changed regularly, cuz I figured she was worth taking care of.

Yeah, she got old and started to need a few too many repairs, but she still has a bit of life left in her. I asked her to take care of the next owner as well as she took care of me. As I parked her in the dealer's lot I bid her farewell, locked the door, and never looked back.

I signed a few papers and scooted away in my brand new vehicle, sunroof open despite the sprinkles falling from the sky. Onward!

who's the fool?

There was an interesting turn of events the day that Rob and I went back to the picnic table where "it all began". Whereas Rob had been fawning over the fantasy of me falling in love all over again just by revisiting this spot, I was feeling fiercely independent.

I had spent the previous couple days finalizing the deal on my new car and arranging a plan to sell my house. Relationships with my men were fairly low on the list of priorities.

We got to the portal spot and discovered that the table itself was gone. Oh well. I didn't exactly feel the loss. So we then sat on the beach, sun on our backs, waves lapping up, which should have been romantic. Ho hum I thought as Rob ran his hands up and down my back and touched me every chance he got. Maybe I should suggest he start dating...

It wasn't until we got back to his house that I was able to articulate a problem. I told him that he was going to have to tone it down, and this was just way too heavy for me. I couldn't handle all this emotion and expectation Though I wanted to be able to hang out with him and have sex, I couldn't stomach the lovey dovey stuff. It was going to have to be a little lighter and fun, or very hot and sexy.

OK, so the man listens. He started talking about his cock. He found my niche! I find it very easy to talk about sex. He put my hand where I could feel his hardness and said see what you've done to me? My imagination took flight. We ramped it up for about 20 minutes then off to the bedroom, please.

My eyes feasted on his body as he undressed. Then my mouth feasted on his cock as he knelt by my side on the bed and rubbed my pussy. The combination of his words, his technique and the wild fantasies I conjure up get me off pretty quick these days. My body rocked to one of the longest orgasms I've ever had. It was simply ecstaseizmic!

When the waves subsided, Rob got on top and fucked me good until he, too, was taken to his limit. He emptied about a truckload of cum into me. Mmmmm. After the cleanup, we hopped back into the warm and wet bed, into our customary apres-sex position. I totally melted into him and was already fantasizing about our next escapade. I knew I wanted it. And him.

And here, only a few hours earlier, I couldn't be bothered with any such thoughts. What the hell happened? Does he have a magic spell on me? Or am I the world's biggest fool?