New nudity

The real and new nudity is about real people showing what they do when they have sex.

I want the new nudity to show people enjoying each other. They're not being made up and lit for the photographers rather than for the people they're fucking.

Their boobs aren't fake. The lighting is bad. And they smile, they're having a good time, not counting the photo-ops.

They still fuck on a couch. But the view outside isn't of the Hollywood hills.

They fuck each other, not the camera. The firm hand on the stomach, the assertive hold to insert a finger, says more than any mesh rubber stockings can.

Their flaws are okay, are welcome. That's what makes them people. Not objects. In the new realm of I want the new nudity to be real nudity.

Wedding rings. Tan lines. The rise of amateur sites and webcam self-confessions is fueled by this desire for the real and the true. Andrew's "Post-Porn Manifesto" here in Filthy Gorgeous Things online mag says it well. "We as a culture desperately need to rediscover authentic sexy."

Hot for Teacher

I can still get hot for teacher. She's older, been around the block. Divorced by now. Yet confident. She wears her sex well.

She knows what she wants because she's had it. She's seen it all. She's fucked in the back seat, had her face cummed on. Blown the guys in the supply closet, and fingered the young tarts before they knew what was quite happening to them.



Her pussy's older - well used. Her pubic hair thinning. Brown pussy lips she fingers at night, lips that have felt more cock than you can count. She loves to teach.

She'll ask me to demonstrate my point, and elucidate my research.

She'll open her legs and finger her clit in view. Make sure I'm paying attention to the lesson.

She will make sure I have mastered the previous exercise before moving on to the next.

She will let me fuck her missionary to her face, then turn over and let me fuck her from behind, to get well-rounded research experience. She will make sure I cum deep inside her, no pulling out at the last minute because that would be cheating.

She looks over her shoulder and wonders what I'm thinking now.

I'm thinking of that cunt under that dress. And staying after class.

Before and After

Clothes make the woman. And what they're wearing never quite reveals what they are like under them.



An incredible amount of time is spent putting the right clothes over a body, to emphasize its attributes and hide its (perceived) faults. "Does this dress make my butt look big?" "Yes, baby it makes it look real good and big."

And... an incredible amount of time is spent trying to imagine that person in front of you... without all those clothes on.

Clothes are sexy. Clothes are fun to take off. They not only slowly reveal the person underneath, but reveal a process. These layers were put on by the person... stripping in reverse. The undergarments and complicated wraps and fasteners are where her or his fingers were.

The lacy devices, the teasing stockings. The peek-a-boo underwear. They touch and clothe and cover parts...creases of their own bodies.

Now... I am revealing that body again. Undoing the process.



They also reveal what the person is thinking. She put these long stockings on, to draw attention to her legs? This loose sweater - so people can't make out her nipples?

Shapes, details, nuances and curves. Clothes hide them all, but suggest. We know what people look like naked but only in general. We love to take them off, slowly and deliciously, and be surprised, or even, be justified in what we thought we would see. A collision of the imagination and anticipation.

I hate it when my lover strips their clothes off in one fell swoop. I don't want someone to automatically be naked. I want to learn something about you... and about what I expected. Slowly and inch by inch along the way.

Reflection

I've received some emails (offline, not in the comments) that have asked me more deeply about my exhibitionist practice here. How I've felt about exposing myself (physically and emotionally), what made me do it... and even in more than once case, can they join me?

People are really supportive; they like to watch. I like to be watched. It's something I knew early in my sexual development. There was a sense of role play in getting naked with someone, the anticipation and sense of fun leading up to the sweaty sticky act.

The lead-in, the teases, the jokes, the declarations, were all so very much a part of the turn-on for me.

I like to put on a show, but never really had much opportunity to put it on for more than one person. I think would have liked to try to be in a room with another couple, trading each others genital contact, the kisses, the fingering. Not sure that will ever happen. And here, in public (sort of) I get a chance to pull down my pants and wave my hard dick around.

I'm glad some of you like it. It's a turn-on for me, and makes me feel closer to feelings I've often had to repress. For social reasons, of course; for propriety.

I appreciate the feedback.

People ask me if I would ever consider posting pictures of my wife on here. This isn't her thing, I don't think. The closest I've come is describing bouts of sex, what I've done with her, what she's done with me. While that will remain private between us in actuality, the spirit of these happenings I share in another attempt to expose myself, to be vulnerable. Truthful and maybe a little bit naughty. Hey look what I did.

One aspect interesting to this whole social experiment is that the people that want to reach out to me and talk... do so offline, by email one to one. Even though what seems to be capturing our imaginations is the sharing and public aspect of this conversation, when someone wants to let me know I'm writing something that's tickling their good part, they don't post a comment.

They want to tell me straight. There's still a need to say something privately, personally, intimately and honestly.

Doing it out in public has its own honesty, but its not earned so much as dared.

Redhead On The Deck

For your... and my... enjoyment.

Now do you understand why I have a thing for redheads?

Aphrodisiac

The best aphrodisiac me and my wife have is the daylight.

It's not too late, and we haven't spent the last 2 hours putting the kids to bed, reading stories and setting out clothes. We haven't done greasy dishes, caught the 2nd half of Gossip Girl and fallen asleep over the movie section of the Times.

It's during the day, and the coffee is still working. Maybe it's after lunch... or better, just after breakfast. The sun is coming through the window and shining onto the bed.

There's no need to turn on the closet light and half-close the door. I can see everything I need to see. And so can she.

In the daylight I see every pore and hair. I am not curling up under the covers to get warm.

The whole day is ahead of us. Until the phone rings or work, school, or what or whom ever beckons. We can take our time, and that's the aphrodisiac.

The time. Once couples get busy lives, sex never seems to be the top priority, at least doing it right isn't. Sure you end up fucking or fingering each other every so often, and it gets done. But the old luxurious days of no kids, no house projects, no work and no bills soon is taken over by "what do we need to do first?"

Fun is often an afterthought.

But if we happen to be together during the day, maybe on a chance day off in which the kids are off on a playdate or at school, and we have the morning to get a couple of things done, then go to lunch together, we still have time to get the rest of the errands done, but also...

--to enjoy each other sexually. Let the warm sun shine in and make us think we're on the beach, outside for a moment. That we're in nature, that there is nothing pressing. Let's start the day with a fuck instead of ending it that way, when we're not at our best.

I much prefer to think about it all day, rather than fall asleep right after it. The bright light of day makes her body much warmer, her skin much softer and her smile more sincere. Less hurried.

The urgency can be enjoyed.

Boy shorts

Oh, god, what makes it so hot? A sexy girl wearing panties men's underwear?



It's the cut of the things, the floppy front that isn't served by what she has inside. They stretch in a different away across the ass of a woman, and pull up on her crotch.

They're revealing. Loose and yet tight. There's a kind of camel-toe affect. Her pussy is so easily discernable, yet strangely deemphasized.

They ride on her thighs and low on her waist.

It's the waistband. That's it. Another shot of a woman, this time wearing boy's briefs. There is not only the elastic waistband, but the goddamn trap door in front so she can pull her dick out and take a piss.

Oh, the fabric stretches across her wide hips, and makes it clear, there's no cock in there. Flat and curved. A crevice, a wet fold.



I'd want to pull those aside and fuck her while the underwear stretched and got wet with my cum and her fluids between her legs, moving in and out and her underwear became a sopping cummy foamy mess.

Ruined for now. But a stretched-aside androgynous marker of our sexual union.

Sloppy Seconds

She's just here to fuck. And I'm fucking into cum.

My own cum. In her pussy. I'm ejaculated, at least a little - the first thin stream of precum, and I'm still hard. Her pussy is dripping with herself and with me. Her cunt is decorated with the slick spunk that lubricates and creates a friction that is both viscous and tacky.

And it makes me cum again. Harder and deeper.

Or in a fantasy chamber of my head, I'm fucking into some other guy's cum.

A guy who's cock was in this girl 2 hours ago. An hour ago. And his spunk is still in there. Dripping out.

And the crown of my dick is pulling it out to make my own cock slicker and stickier and shittier.

She loves my cock more than his, and his spunk makes mine fucking feel that much better for her. That slut that can't get enough, that just got fucked and turned to me for more.

But she did let him cum inside her first.

Housework

Stay at home. There is housework to do. The wife is busy on the drapes, getting the wrinkles out.

There's ironing to be done. Shirts have to get sharp and creased. Carpet needs to be vacuumed and all the lint brushed off.

Windows need to be cleaned, shined and made streakless. Let the sunshine in through and into the living space.

Fold the clothes. Put them all away. Make sure everything is neat and folded, straightened out and orderly.

Nothing out of place. Everything where it belongs.

Put the tools away when you're done, don't leave anything hanging about. Dry off the dishes, get them all stacked. Put up the towels and line up the cups. Throw away the wipes.

Turn in all the late books and put the outgoing mail into the slot. Sweep the front walk. Put the leaves into the bin and hang the pan kit.

Sit straight and make sure the table lines up. Sharp corners, reading material in a row. Open to the appropriate page. Glasses on.

Sharp, neat and dry. Poised and ready for company.