Nude redhead

The Law Of Accumulating Returns

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Love Muscle

Love-making is often an agressive act. There's thrusting, grabbing and humping.

Banging and slapping.

I've often wanted to feel what it would be like to be truly submissive. As the female laying under the erect man, with legs open, being penetrated.

Don't read too much into this. I often do most of the work, as my rising horniness and natural male libido force me - instinctually to do. To go after the girl, to reach down and test and grab her pussy, and massage her tits to make her feel better.

To open up.

I often fantasize what it would be like to let someone pound at me. If the person I was with was stronger, and could actually kick my ass if I got out of line.

I'd like to be at her mercy.

The Aesthetics of Mediation - four

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Sunday Morning

Finger fuck

The way we find out about sex, and about the opposite sex, is a unique and very different story for all of us.

But I think most of the stories are very similar in feeling if not in specifics. I slowly but intensely learned about the opposite sex by grabbing and feeling every girl I went out with, which admittedly wasn't more than a dozen during my high school years. I was a horny teenager, and would take every opportunity to touch and feel up my date. I once got slapped in the face in public for moving my hand too far down a girl's waist onto her ass.

That got everyone's attention, especially my own. If nothing else, it impressed upon me the pain, public humiliation, the absolute value and prized commodity that was the private parts of the person you were trying to get physically close to or into.

I felt pussy with my hands more than maybe I've seen it with my eyes. I was able to touch and fingerfuck girls who wished to remain chaste, or even later, women who didn't want to go all the way. Not now. Not tonight. Not yet. Not here. But allowed my fingers to rub up and down their clits, move back and forth in their pubic hair. Under their panties.

The feeling of pussy on my hands and on my fingers only got me harder and harder. There but for the grace of god would my loins be soon. (But never as often as I wanted.) I educated myself on how to make the girl next to me feel good by my gentle, but exploratory and insistent massages upon her nether folds.

I knew that was often as much as I would get. I learned to enjoy that moment. That digital intimacy and trust she had handed over to me, without servicing my own cock. But letting me finger her and get her wet.

And the smell of her vaginal juices on my hand would last for hours, after I got home, and at night as I laid in bed,would breath deep into them and rub some more.

A Little Drinky Poo

The party's over. I remember when the party never ended.

There was a time, around college, or later, when I should have been going to college, when the people at work were always getting drunk. We'd collect at the bar 2 doors over, and have coffee drinks, which kept us up later and kept us more frisky than we would have been - had we been drinking straight gin or scotch.

We were just getting past beer, and into the "adult" phase of mixed drinks. Rum and coke would make us all loopy and sloppy, and start to play grabass with each other. All in good fun, of course.

There were times when I ended up making out with some girl that was too drunk to stop me, and I was thinking only with my dick. You'll make out with anyone when you're drunk, it seems. I got a couple pieces of pussy that way, being a little too friendly and slipping my tongue down her throat. Then my hand down her pants.

Meg was one who never really fucked me back. We ended up in the bedroom at a party, and our pants around our knees. It was a quick exploration and she was kinda giggly and didn't take the whole thing seriously. Because I worked with her, it was something I didn't see as serious, and when I became aroused I got it out of the way quickly. I came half inside her, half on her stomach. I had been drinking scotch, and the orgasm seemed to get me drunker. I don't remember the rest of the party.

Cindy was someone I remembered one New Year's Eve. We were at that bar and kissed when the clock struck midnight. There was a homely aspect to her and she seemed to take everything very seriously. No jokes for her, yet she let me kiss her and walk her home. At her apartment, we kanoodled for what seemed like 40 minutes before I finally got my pants undone and down. Which she let me do.

Erection city. I reached for her pants, but she pushed my hand away and undid them herself. I entered her and about 10 seconds later I felt her tense up. She pushed me out and we sat, having another drink, without talking about it. She was right. It wasn't the right thing to do in the long run, it was just New Year's Eve coming over us.

She let me lick her nipples and she rubbed my erection - I guess to make me feel a little better about not getting to fuck her more. I told her it was okay, and it was. I was drunk enough to think I might have another chance.

The next time we worked together she made it clear that it would never happen again.

That was fine.