The End Is Nigh

Dear Blogger User,

We're writing to tell you about an upcoming change to the Blogger Content Policy that may affect your account.

In the coming weeks, we'll no longer allow blogs that contain sexually explicit or graphic nude images or video. We'll still allow nudity presented in artistic, educational, documentary, or scientific contexts, or where there are other substantial benefits to the public from not taking action on the content.

The new policy will go into effect on the 23rd of March 2015. After this policy goes into effect, Google will restrict access to any blog identified as being in violation of our revised policy. No content will be deleted, but only blog authors and those with whom they have expressly shared the blog will be able to see the content we've made private.

Our records indicate that your account may be affected by this policy change. Please refrain from creating new content that would violate this policy. Also, we ask that you make any necessary changes to your existing blog to comply as soon as possible, so that you won't experience any interruptions in service. You may also choose to create an archive of your content via Google Takeout (https://www.google.com/settings/takeout/custom/blogger).

For more information, please read here (https://support.google.com/blogger?p=policy_update).

Sincerely,
The Blogger Team

(c) 2015 Google Inc. 1600 Amphitheatre Parkway, Mountain View, CA 94043

* * *

I will, at least, have a back-up of the 6 1/2 years of material. If you see this before the 23rd, ask for an invite so you can still get in here.

Ryan

Skin In The Game

I waited in the lobby to meet her. Without guilt and without remorse.

My wife wasn't fucking me anymore anyway.

I was not looking for revenge. Her faded love for me had nothing to do with how big his dick was compared to mine, no compulsion for me to even the score. No comparisons between the gifts he bought for her she had to hide, and the gifts I bought that she wore for a week after mother's day or valentines then left in the bottom of the closet.

I wasn't jealous of her having gotten fucked by a stranger to me. She was no longer mine. He wasn't competition, he was a life event.

I had to get on with my life. I asked her to meet me simply because she wasn't my wife. I had no hold on her and she wanted none. She was only a receptacle for my lust. She knew I wouldn't call her in the morning.  I didn't know her last name. All I knew was I'd fuck her and forget about her.

My wife would never ask. I couldn't tell anyone because my hurt and my loss of my wife was secret, out of my control. I wondered if by finding this strange woman willing to meet me at the hotel I could repair myself. My ego. I was desirable too. I didn't have to wait forever for her to want me again.

While you left me then to go fuck your old friend, I didn't leave you to fuck her, now. Here.

When she finally came in we talked about getting a drink first but I saw in her eyes she wanted to see if this was going to work before spending too much time. So instead we went right upstairs to my room.  She looked out the window and asked if I could kiss her and she grabbed my cock and we fucked and the entire time I was thinking of how I looked as if someone were watching across the room, rather than how it was feeling. Now. Here.

I made her come with my mouth. She told me I was great and we should get together again. I watched her go an hour and a half later, barely a heartbeat and I was already forgetting the details as I checked out later.

I don't know why that woman who was not my wife let me fuck her, or what she got out of it. Or if she'd really do it again. I don't know if I would ever do it again. If I even liked it, still wanted it, if it made me feel better or shitty.

If I would remember the encounter with affection or regret.

One thing I sensed, how my wife might have felt the first moment she let her old friend slide his cock inside her even though she was married.  Like the thin paper sleeve on the toilet seat in some hotel room. To ensure it's ready for use.  But once slipped off can't be replaced without becoming wrinkled.