More Natural

For those of us who enjoy the texture along with the skin.

You know who you are. I know who I am.

Natural

Nice to see these old-school images, dating from the time when I first saw nudity, on a glossy page, in a magazine.



These types of images, of hairy and perfectly natural pussy, has shaped my erotic dreams and fantasies.



The natural thing always seemed to be such a turn on, for the people being photographed as well. No pretending. This is who I am.



It's texture. It's a tease. It's a smell and a touch.



Ever since then I've much preferred a carpet to play with down there.


_ _ _ _ _ _

Many images from LaCasita.

Curve

I think about your curves constantly. The mysterious crevice where your secret cunt disappears between your legs.

The soft flesh that rounds around your hips, the flat expanse of skin that dimples down around your belly button. Flat and then down your thighs.

The pinch of meat, the hold of your heft as I grab your ass.

The soft and thin waft of hair, running down your back, barely perceptible as it curves down and into your crack. The line behind your legs as it travels down, formed and muscled. The drip of precum pooling on your inner thigh.

Dangling as you spread your legs. And finger your curve.

The tense firm cock rubs against your rigid bone, you sigh and open. Wait. Chest to chest, fingertips along the ridge. Breathing. Pink clit and bony hips. I meet you. I meet your curve.

I fuck into you. The pubic unison of beat and swing. Rocking. Into. Hydraulic. Lubricate. Mesh.

Arm around the small of your back, and your ass reaches up to meet me from the front, over and again. Knee and the long calf of relaxation. I am entered to your curve. Like a boomerang, the wind flows through the trusses.

And sperm into orgasmic shivering. A flattened unwinding, a fingernail into your shoulder. Close, smelling armpit of dreams. The embrace into endless penetration. Your curve, sweet, wet and sucking.

Complicit, in shadow and at the corner of my attention. Moving like a dance in water. Behind.

Circle Jerk

I'm naive. I don't know how other people have sex - only how I have had sex. And as I go through this journal - memorial of my sex and sexual life and thoughts, I find how fluid and sliding the definition of sexuality really is.

I never wrote down how many women (or men) I had sex with. It wasn't a contest, a list, or a race. I've found myself in various situations that have aroused something in me that either caused me to be attracted to someone - or something - that I was surprised by...

Or I went after something - or someone - because I was aroused. Many of my primal and deep erotic experiences were in xxx-rated movie theatres. Many others were in adult book stores. Lately many of them on the internet.

There are many stories (interestingly, at least to me) in which they are masturbatory fantasies. Yes, I've jerked off a lot. In many situations. There was the occasional brush with sleeping with another man but I have avoided that, and I think it's because I have never met the right one, and been in the right situation, have never been aroused.

Sex, believe it or not, is a very personal and solitary experience. What happens in my head is my own business and what is getting me off while I'm fucking you may have little to do with you.

I've never shared it with my friends. Once in the men's wing of the gym at the pool we used to go to, where the older men would walk around bare-ass naked with their long dicks hanging out, almost to a fault, I accidentally walked around the locker bank and into three men who were naked and erect, sitting on the benchs.

They locked eyes with me, and were sitting quite innocently, except for the fact that their bathing suits were not on, there were no towels over their privates, and at least 2 of them seemed to have erections - clear to be seen (one had his hand near but not over, one was actually turned so I couldn't see it. The third conducted himself like it wasn't even there.).

They were in their early 40s, I guessed, fathers or businessmen from the community, here on a weekend for a dip, a picnic, a workout, and knew each other. I smiled and continued walking.

It didn't quite occur to me at the time, but it did a half-minute later, they'd been jerking themselves off. I somehow and suddenly knew, after I was gone. To demonstrate their own erections. No touching of each other had been going on, because they weren't close enough or entangled together. And besides, that would have been so "gay."

If I had had the presense of mind earlier, if I didn't have my bathing suit on (or perhaps had just come out of the shower), if my wife had not been out there by the pool, 200 yards away, perhaps... perhaps... I would have stopped.

Paused.

And observed. Completely innocently. As a friend. And maybe gotten erect for them, all innocent and curious, as well.

The Digital Person

I saw a brunette sitting on the bench at school, reading a book called "The Digital Person." This book is a couple of years old, and she was sitting there in the sun, with sunglasses, smoking while she read it.

Digital person - the book is about our virtual identities on the internet. I walked up to her and asked her if I could take her picture reading the book. I thought it might be a good shot for this blog, but I certainly wasn't going to tell her that was where her picture might end up. She didn't like the idea, and seemed a bit shy about continuing with the talk - and after reading a couple of the chapters in the book I would see why. I let it pass and asked her if I could at least sit and talk with her about it.

I told her I was in the communications department. We both drank our coffee - her a latte, me an americano. We ended up going back to her place, on the outskirts of the campus, and sat on the deck of her apartment (which is supplied by the school to students).

Her roommate was gone for a weekend back in her hometown in Wisconson, and she made some ramen which we shared. Telling stories. I slowly brushed against her a couple times, put my hand on her back.

The sun was going down. I put my hand on her ass. She didn't stop me. She'd look at me. Wouldn't frown and wouldn't smile. Just close her eyes.

I showed her my playlist on my ipod, which is either a great way to break the ice when you're meeting someone - or the dealbreaker. It's a way to expose your innermost thoughts and tastes without really revealing anything. Except maybe that you like John Mayer, the Beatles, Bob Dylan and the Shins all together, a weird collection that but demonstrates that no one is pigeon-hole-able.

We contain multitudes.

She let me take off her clothes slowly. I took off my clothes next. I went slowly into her, on the futon, and there were no words. I stopped, knowing I should not be there, taking advantage of her anonymity. She pushed me out and let me come back in. Finally, I came on her breasts, because she didn't want to get into any trouble she couldn't handle later.

Digital indeed.

Another Lurid Display

More women opening their legs for the camera.



I love the unencumbered views.



How "natural" they look is up to the viewer and how badly you want to believe.



And I get hard when I see the beautiful loci of pleasure they reveal to us.



I convince myself it's because they want to, it's not just a job.



It's because they really dig revealing it all to us.



That's the horniest thing of all.

My Self

This blog has often found itself becoming a meditation on exhibitionism.

Other people's and my own. It's an interesting wonder. It's allowed me to share the most intimate and embarrassing moments of my life with hundreds of strangers, things I haven't even told my wife. Things I wouldn't want to, and I'm not sure she wants to know.

Thing I barely am able to consider myself in the light of day.

Yet I turn inward and write of the people I fucked, the drunken messes and dripping embarassments I wouldn't want passed along.

The arrogant triumphs. The weird fantasies and hot flashes of horny thoughts.

The fleeting and passing spasms.

And in addition, I turn the camera to myself. And I am erect, I take my picture to show you my potent lust, my uninhibited relaxation. My horniness unfulfilled.

My attempt as expression and honesty. An anonymous fever dream doomed forever to not be reciprocated.

An empty collection of images and memories that you may take seriously or not.

I have some need to be regarded, to be lusted after, perhaps like all of us. To at least be considered in a sexual and physical and human if anonymous way. A carnal and bodily function. It is the beauty and the curse of the internet, being everywhere but nowhere within reach.

We are without personality... although all these words, this voice... it is the personality, the emotion, the connection. The me.

Unemcumbered and naked. Exposed and yet protected. Framed specifically and yet without borders.

Doggy Wife

Wife porn is complicated for me. It addresses and tangles up all the issues I have with fantasy, reality, being bad and being responsible.

Here's one hell of a hot pic, her being entered from behind. And notice the wedding ring.

Thanks, wifey.

The unanswered question is if you're fucking your wife, or someone else's wife. If she's married to you or to someone else.

We just saw "Superbad" 2 nights ago, and there's a scene early in which the "Seth" character talks about how he likes to stick his boner up into his waist pants and shoot a load onto his stomach under his clothes.

My wife thought that was "disgusting." I said nothing... as I did not think it was quite so. I, in fact, have done this before.

When I was younger, and not so young. I jerk off more than I fuck or get fucked. And I do think I have a pretty healthy sex life with my wife. But getting hard and jerking off, occasionally, to different impulses confounds and ignites me. It's safe and it's hot. Mysterious and curious and off limits and secret.

Dirty and responsible.

Erotic fuel that fires off different neurons and synapses in my brain, when I'm passionate and hard and fucking, places I don't intellectualize, thoughts I let come, without barriers and without judging. Try a new fantasy. I wonder what it would be like to fuck someone else's wife, or watch someone fuck my own.

It flirts with a transgression I don't think is appropriate for polite or mixed company. And that is certainly much of its power.

And that may be a good illustration of the differences between the sexes. If my wife professes to not understand the attraction of having a secret - and messy - orgasm under your clothes, how do I allow that to thrill me? To a certain extent, because she doesn't like it?

The forbidden mess of it makes it so much "dirtier." Explosive, forbidden.

Yet I know she is game for a clothed, furtive secret jack-off on occasion. The voices of people in the other room make her cum 50% quicker than if we were alone. She'd want to take her time if we could, but she's faster in the wine cellar at a friends; she's more "careful" about cumming when we have the whole afternoon.

We are yoked to what we are "supposed" to do. Yet we find an irresponsible thrill, even in discounting someone else's fantasy.

That polite wife of mine, she loves being entered from behind. That position, so different from looking into her face, and feeling my body rub against her pussy and stomach. Instead, from behind, rutting, my cock feels different in her cunt. My erection curves back into her instead of up - as I push against her ass cheeks.

I feel deeper. My pubic area just above my cock rubs against her asshole, open. I barely finger it, teasingly. My hands on her cheeks, spreading and pushing her up against me as I go deep, no face, no breathing together, no soft kisses. Just ass.

She sits to meet me, fucking, her bent up to receive me. Her tits flopping back and forth as she pumps me. Rhythm. Even.

As I get closer to orgasm, I go slower but keep the rhythm - she feels it - she knows it's coming. Keep going. Fuck that ass.

And that's not dirty at all. Hot orgasmic sex in unison, both feeling for each other, exposure and passion. Open to each other's erotic power over the other. And overtaking ourselves. Making our own porn.

And it's polite when both parties are having a good time.

(Postscript: right before I posted this, I found the "same" picture. Ring and everything. I don't think I'm the only one getting hard fantasizing fucking a wife.)

Lurid Display

All these beautiful women have been posed with their legs open for the camera.



They're beautiful. And they leave nothing to the imagination.



But while this lurid display demonstrates a sexual availability, it doesn't present all their charms.




Are they available, or merely in a state of open-leggedness?



The photographers haven't gone far enough to expose them. It's not just their open pussies that we desire...



Isn't it their whole being? Wouldn't we desire that they be willing as well?



The look in their eyes is more of a turn-on.

She Masturbates For...

More self-generated content. Certainly not professional. Someone who turns on the camera and lets it roll while they perform in front of it. You can see her hand leave the control button at the beginning. Nice touch to leave in.

The camera does not move, and she doesn't make much eye contact with the camera. She quickly and eventually is doing the performance - for us? Or for herself?

She rubs herself, openly and wantonly. She enjoys showing herself. And she soon succeeds in cumming on camera, for herself... and for us.

She closes her legs. A wave of shy shivering is detected. She's self-conscious now. And the performance is over.