Needed Relief

L stayed overnight, and will possibly stay other nights with us. She's working a new job in my town, and it's too much driving for her to go home every night all week long. Her ex's father has a house here too, though, and there's a little house in the back of his property that's fully ready for someone to stay there, so she might wind up staying there more often than here.

But I digress; she stayed here last night, and even though nothing happens anymore, just being close to her makes me horny. The wife went to work at her normal time, and since I have the day off L and I talked about how she'll get out of her latest mess with the boyfriend and keep the ex from kicking her out. She left for work half an hour ago, so I finally had the opportunity to have some quality time with myself.

Unfortunately, the niece isn't working today either, so I had to be quicker than I would have liked. Still, it was a good, much needed orgasm. I posted the pictures I took on my Photobucket account, and you can see them here if you want. The password is bl0gshar3 (that's a zero, not capital o). Praise or criticize them as you will, but all comments are welcome.

(I posted them on Photobucket so that it would be your choice to view them or not, instead of me just throwing them up here all willy nilly. So I don't want to hear any "Dude, I did NOT want to see that!")

As always, reciprocal sharing, from men and women, is appropriate and appreciated! I will never post anything shared with me without express, written permission. :-)

I Want to be a Loser!

It's the end of March, and I need to lose the same 30 lbs I needed to lose at the beginning of March. I told myself I was going to track what I ate, exercise more regularly, and try to drop 5 to 10 lbs per month. It didn't happen this month, not even close, but I still think I can get on track and be feeling better about myself by this summer.

And you can help. Along with the other things I post here, starting today I will post my weight every Friday and whether it's higher or lower than the previous week. I promise to post the actual weight the first thing every Friday morning, after I pee. If it's up, bust my chops a little (but not too harshly; I'm fragile). If it's down, give me the praise I so richly deserve. Treat me like the person in your life that you care enough about to want to see them improve themselves, but aren't afraid to hurt their feelings if needed.

I won't bore you with the details of the food diary that I'll be keeping, but it's my plan to stay under 2200 calories per day. At my last physical, my doctor said that was a reasonable goal, so it's not unhealthy. I'm not doing anything specific like low carbs or high protein, just keeping track of calories. Because I like to eat, I'll naturally gravitate towards foods lower in fat and sugar, and higher in fiber.

Also, at the end of each month, I'll post a body picture so you can see what (if any) progress I'm making. Post a comment here or send me an email to cast your vote if I should be nude or have underwear on in those pictures. (If I don't get at least a few votes, I'll assume you don't want the picture at all.) I won't post one tomorrow because you can see where I stand now in this post, and it's too late to complain about it being nude.

As of today: 251.8

This is, in fact, lower than I started at the beginning of March after all, by about 3 lbs. However, it could and should have been much better. 

Good day, and bad.

I wrote the following yesterday at lunch when, for whatever reason, I was feeling particularly low. I've gone back and forth since last night whether or not I should post it, because now I read it and hate the "oh pity poor me" tone of it. But for me, this blog is more than just documenting my quest to fool around with men or women, or tell funny stories about my past; it's also a way to work through some of the problems I have. I can't do that if I don't expose myself and really examine these things. I could write a journal that no one would see, but I think I get more out of it knowing others will see it too.

Just know that, as I indicate at the end of this, I am embarrassed about it. Knowing you've read this will give me that same uncomfortable, awkward feeling I've gotten when I have to face someone who's seen me cry. Fortunately, I rarely cry, and almost never in front of anybody.

I had a relatively good day yesterday, having taken a vacation day while the wife and the niece were at work. Originally I was supposed to spend the day with L (no hanky or panky was in the cards though) but she found out Friday that she'd gotten a job and started Monday. So I used the day off to get a plumber in to take care of some issues that had been annoying me, and got some time to myself (meaning not with the wife.)

By the end of the day my mood had darkened, and though its a little better now, I know I'm in for a bad ride. Times like these I really want to get a hotel room and hide away from everyone, especially the wife. I'm on edge and feeling like I'm going to blow up any minute. I'm easily irritated under the best of circumstances, but last night and this morning even I didn't want to be in the car with me.

Some of my bad mood has to do with being pretty certain this latest Craigs List attempt is going to wind up like all the others, but there's so much more involved.

I'm angry at L because she keeps doing the same shit, getting herself in trouble again either with her ex or her on again, off again boyfriend. I want to scream at her because she's seemingly oblivious to cause and effect as she cries, once again, "why does this keep happening to me?!"

But it's not even true that she's the problem in my life; I am. I am the first to admit I have things pretty fucking good: a job I like that pays well, a loyal wife who loves me, and many other things to feel good about. And sometimes I actually believe it.

But right now (and increasingly frequently) I can only focus on how I pretty much hate everything about my life, especially myself. I know it's stupid, and I need to pull myself together. And eventually this will fade away to background noise until the next time. Maybe the fact I'm writing about it will help.

I've considered getting counseling through my company's eap program, but the thought of whinning about my first-world problems to some jaded counselor rolling his or her eyes over the same shit they've heard 20 times this week is, frankly, embarrassing. I'm embarrased even writing about it here. If anybody I knew had the same problem, I'd suggest counseling without hesitation, though. I just can't see doing it for myself.

Since writing this, I did start feeling better. I went back to work and got some items ticked off my to do list, and that always brightens my mood. The drive home was relatively asshole free. The dinner I made (chicken tortilla soup) was delicious and both the wife and niece praised it. (I'll post the recipe some time; it's easy and quick to prepare, then let it cook all day in a slow cooker.) And this morning I feel pretty good knowing that I have tomorrow off. The niece won't be working tomorrow either, and I'm thinking maybe we'll hang out together and just have a good "uncle/niece" day.

And I'll try to keep the next bad day at bay for as long as I can.

Wait and See

I didn't have time to give a full update yesterday, so here's what happened. I'd told Jeff (turns out, that's his name) Sunday that I would let him know by mid day Monday if I could meet him for a beer Monday night. He said that would be fine, looking forward to meet you, blah blah blah. Then he asked if I had any experience, and I told him basically no, and asked if he did. I didn't get a response.

Okay, no big deal, he probably got caught up in things at home, with his girlfriend or daughter or whatever. I get that, it happens to me too. I have to keep these types of emails with other people secret too, and if the wife is around it's hard to even read what someone sent me much less respond.

So around 10 a.m. I'd gotten a decent cover story, cleared with the wife that I'd be going out for a while after dinner, and sent Jeff an email saying if we were still on I'd be able to meet if the weather held and the roads were clear. By 3 p.m. I still hadn't heard back from him, so I sent another email saying it looked like the weather should be okay and everything was go on my end.

Around 4 he sent saying the weather had caused him problems with work that he had to get cleared up (I don't know what he does exactly except he said he's in the auto industry and sells directly to dealerships). He asked if there was another day that would work for me. I said Wednesday or Thursday the same time, and I have all day Friday off so we could even meet for lunch if he wanted. As of this morning, he still hasn't responded.

So we'll see. It's starting to feel like this is going to be another promising match that's going to fall through, though I hope I'm wrong. I'd like to at least get past the first hurdle of meeting a guy, never mind where it takes us from there. Hopefully he'll respond later today and we'll setup another date. But just out of mule-headed stubbornness, I won't send him another email until I get one from him. Damned if I'm going to act like some desperate idiot. I mean you guys know better, but he doesn't have to.

On a lighter note, here's one of the pictures I sent Jeff to give him an idea of my body shape. Not my finest moment in the dick department, but I'm a grower not a show-er. Fortunately I sent a better dick picture, and he was dutifully impressed.

At least there's not a turd floating in the bowl.

And I'll tell you like I told him: don't give me shit about being a Cowboys fan; I hear it enough from my family. I would have taken the shirt off, but I didn't want my moobs to show.

Weekend Update

Attractive white masculine male seeking same for a DISCREET meeting. I am 49 yrs old, 5'10", 210 lbs, dark hair/eyes, mustache. I enjoy mutual oral, JO, and being a "safe" bottom. Making out depends on the individual. I am average in length, cut, trimmed/shaved. Can host if needed. Could be regular for future meetings. If interested, reply with STATS, and what you enjoy as well as when available. DISEASE FREE, YOU MUST BE TOO!!! Very serious here. Must put "today" in title of reply.

This is the Craig's List ad I read yesterday morning. I'd sworn off CL back last summer when so many promising starts wound up being disappointments, mainly because the person would stop emailing when it came right down to it. But I looked yesterday on a whim, saw this ad, and I responded.

Married, mwm, inexperienced but bi-curious. Mutual JO and oral is fine, honestly not sure about making out, but might be willing to try. Anything beyond oral is unlikely for me, but not absolutely ruling it out.

6'1" 250 lbs but I carry it well. I'm 6.5" or bigger when really horny. Dark hair, graying, and goatee. I'm 47, DDF, discrete, and would be happier with a long-term FWB situation. This shit is too hard to find the right match to have to start all over! Lol. Let me know if you want to meet.

Thus began a number of emails and picture exchanges with this guy, who's name I still don't know, and the upshot is we agreed to meet for a beer this evening. I don't anticipate anything happening tonight, mainly because my time will be limited. I told him it would likely be when baseball season starts and the wife goes to the home games that I would time for any action. I did say, however, that I might be able to do something on a Saturday or Sunday if things work out, but we'd play it by ear.

We had some snow and wintry mix yesterday with a decent amount of accumulation, but I think the roads will be clear enough this evening. I just need a good story for the wife to get out of the house for a while tonight, but I think I have that covered.

Wish me luck!

Update: the weather fucked things up after all for him, so we'll have to try to meet up another day.

I Think I Write too Much

Back in college I used to be friends with a young lady I'll call Sara. She was actually the little sister of another friend of mine, but she was only a few months younger than me. She was pretty, and quirky, and kind of understood me in a way other girls didn't. Which of course means I was hopelessly friend-zoned.

Oh, I tried to get out of the zone. During my freshman year at college, when she was a senior in high school, I would go over the antique shop her parents owned to spend time with her. They both worked other jobs, so Sara got the chore of watching the place, and it was never busy so I would go over there just about every day to keep her company. I told her more than a few times that I wanted to date her, or at least fuck her (one of the few girls I was bold enough around to be that upfront with), but she'd just laugh it off. She was dating another guy by that time (nominally a friend, but not really part of the core group I hung out with), but it couldn't hurt to try.

Sara's was actually the first bare breast of a person I knew that I'd ever seen. Well, except my older sisters, but that... what? Oh, don't look at me like that; when you grow up in a house of women, you're bound to see the odd exposed boob! Especially if you try as hard as I did to "accidentally" walk in on them.

Anyway, after some cajoling, Sara showed me her boobs one day during a game of "truth or dare." Now most women's left breast is slightly larger than their right, unless they've been surgical augmented,  but Sara's was extreme. The left tit was about normal for her size and weight (trim but not skinny), but the right one was just stunted. But hey, boobs! I didn't care, but she was obviously self-concious about it. I told her I thought they were amazing anyway, because the nipples were both the same and they had a good shape and size.

I'd give her neck rubs and back massages two times a week, during which I'd cop a feel of one tit or the other. And she liked for me to tickle her feet, which would give me ample opportunity to peek up her skirt. I'd feel guilty afterwards, like I'd forced myself on her in some way, but she would be the one asking for the neck rub or for me to tickle her feet the next time. She knew what she was doing, and she knew what it was doing to me, and she liked it. Like I said, she was quirky.

Wednesday evening I saw a comment of hers on her brother's Facebook post so I friend requested her. She accepted almost immediately, and we started chatting. Based on the way she told me about some things, she either wants to have sex with me or she still likes teasing me to see if it will get to me the same way it used to. I'm not sure if I would want to fuck her or not, but I definitely want to know is she wants me. This could be fun!

Dammit, Janet!

I was a virgin until I was 19, despite my lame efforts (I don't count the one encounter I had with a guy when I was 17 because it was just oral, and there was no completion for either of us.) The first cock-penetrating-pussy action I had was... less than ideal. You'd think by that time my standards would have been pretty low, and believe me they were, but even I had my limits. 

I went to a dorm party with my two cousins (brothers who were also my best friends) that the older cousin's girlfriend was having with a bunch of her fellow nursing students. One of the girls there had asked for volunteers for a survey she was doing on the effects of drinking, and since she was pretty and I figured it was the only way I'd get her to talk to me, I said I'd help. Before my first beer (I didn't tell her about the three I'd had before getting there) she gave me a baseline test of motor functions, as well as my ability to say the alphabet backwards, count down from 100 by 3s or 7s or whatever, etc. Then after each beer, she'd conduct one of the tests to see how I performed verses when I was "sober". 

I was a pretty heavy drinker in college, and could handle myself well even after quite a bit of beer. Yes I was fat, but not grotesquely so; I'd just built a pretty high tolerance for alcohol. This is important because as the night went on, and I finished beer after beer, my test results got better. Okay, I'll confess that I planned this in an attempt to impress the girl by sand-bagging on the initial test, then doing a little better after each beer. Isn't it crazy what college guys think will impress college girls? Except that this girl seemingly was impressed, and she spent quite a bit of the next two hours talking to me when she wasn't testing anyone else. 

She was from out of town and went to a different college, wasn't dating anyone seriously, and was happy to have found someone interesting to talk to (she meant me!) She hadn't wanted to come to the party at all, but figured it would be a good way to get an assignment out of the way. She was smiling when she looked at me and said "Now I'm kind of glad I came." 

But there was another girl there at the party who apparently took a shine to me. I don't really know if she was all that into me, or if she had something against the other girl and wanted to Beaver Dam her (the female equivalent to cock-blocking, apparently.) But she was aggressive, rude, and would not take no for an answer. Plus, she was HUGE! 

Now don't get me wrong, I like my women curvaceous. I've always said if I wanted to date a girl with the body of a 12 year-old boy, I'd have become a Catholic priest. But this girl was 400 lbs if she was a day, and I'm not exaggerating.

At first I was able to verbally spar with her, good-naturedly letting her know I wasn't interested at all without being cruel about it. Then I'd attempt to talk to the other girl again. But  no matter where the other girl... Janet! That was her name! No matter where Janet and I moved, Bertha (for lack of a better name to use) would follow us and bull her way between us. She used her bulk and weight to push Janet aside, often cornering me in the process. If I attempted to get around her, she'd move in the way and at one point was actually leaning on me until I forcefully told her I had to take a piss. She followed me to the bathroom, and when I came out she cornered me again. 

I pretty much gave up on doing anymore of Janet's tests or even trying to talk to her. Looking back, I wish I'd been more forceful with Bertha about leaving me and her alone, but I wasn't really sure if Janet was at all interested in me or not. Maybe she was just being nice while waiting for someone better looking or cooler to come along (it wouldn't have taken much.) At one point I did catch her eye and she gave me a pitying, wistful smile that, really, could have meant anything. 

And let's face it, I was a horny, 19 year-old virgin with low self-esteem; I was a sucker for any kind of validation. It didn't matter that it came from someone as disgusting as Bertha (and I am referring more to her attitude than her looks, though her looks didn't help her cause any), I ate it up. By this time I was drunk enough to not give a fuck anymore, and before I knew it I found myself following her to her dorm room. 

I don't remember our taking our clothes off, but I do remember her being the first woman I'd ever seen completely nekkid. Despite her having more rolls than a Country Cookin' buffet, I had pretty decent wood going. We kissed a bit, then I went down on her (big mistake; I didn't notice her putting in some contraceptive gel and that made my lips numb) and then I was fucking her. And fucking her. And fucking her. God, it felt like I was fucking her for two hours because of the drunken haze I was in, but it was probably more like 20 minutes. Still, pretty studly for a virgin, right? 

I finally gave up. I couldn't get any good leverage or traction being on top because her belly was too big for me to lay across her. We were on the bottom bed of a bunk set, so I couldn't kneel and fuck her either from in front or doggy style, and there was no way I was going to let her get on top. Honestly, laying on our sides with me behind her didn't occur to me at the time, but I really don't think I could have cum anyway. My cock was hard, but mentally I just wasn't into it. Her pussy was like fucking a wet plug of tobacco, and I was really worried about my numb lips. I did ask her to give me head, but her idea of a blowjob was to squeeze the hell out of my dick while half-heartedly licking the tip. Ouch! 

I got dressed and went back up to the party just as it was breaking up. I didn't see Janet anywhere, but I wouldn't have been able to face her at that point anyway. I could barely face my two cousins; everybody saw me leaving with Bertha and knew what we'd been up to. I would have left quietly with my tail between my legs if I hadn't needed a ride home from them. They tried to fuck with me about it, but I let them know up front that it was bad timing and could be dangerous for them. We rode home in silence except for the occasional snickers from them. 

I let them have their fun the next day, though, and took my lumps like a man. The younger brother (just a few months older than me) did finally say "Well, you got your dick wet, and that's all that matters" and gave me a high five, which I returned half-heartedly. Wahoo. He also told me that when Bertha and I left the party, one of the guys said "I hope he knows she doesn't care about him." Being my best friend, he did stand up for me and say there wasn't a chance in hell I wanted anything more than a piece of ass from her. 

The older brother really broke my heart though. Once he was done teasing me, I asked him if Janet had left with anyone. He said she didn't, and told me (and swore even years afterwards that he was telling the truth) that his girlfriend told him Janet was pissed about the whole thing because she kind of liked me, and probably would have had sex with me.

Huh?

I told L about the text chat I had with A Saturday night. Her reaction was pretty much what I expected, and mirrored the comments on the post, that it seems like something is there and you never know what will happen in the future. She's known since I first met A that I was interested in her; I told L about it at the time because I wanted her to be at least a little jealous. And I told her about Saturday's texts with A for the same reason. Hey, I know it's childish, but that's how she and I roll. She denies it, but she does the same thing to me. 

I would never tell L about this blog, because I would never tell her about my "curious" side. I know her well enough to know that she would most likely act understanding and supportive if I were to admit to wanting to explore that side of me, but she would also use it as a weapon at some point. She'd use the threat of telling "everyone" if I didn't do what she expected me to. And if she became angry with me over some stupid little thing (which she frequently does), she'd throw it in my face, in an attempt to belittle me because of it. 

In fact, she's used the threat of telling "everyone" about us having sex in the same manner. I usually do what she wants anyway, but she doesn't understand that I truly don't care if she tells everyone about us. What's the worst that could happen, the wife gets pissed and divorces me? I'd feel bad about the hurt she'd feel, but it wouldn't crush me if that happened. I'm certainly not afraid of the (now ex) husband; he acts like a tough guy, but if the chips were down I think I could protect myself. And really, after all the things she's done to hurt him just for him to take her back (and his drinking gets worse and worse) finding out I fucked her would just be the icing on the cake. I feel like one day she's going to threaten me with that and I'm going to say "fuck it" and tell the ex about it myself. Trust me, once he knows "everyone" else will find out too.

But the being bi thing, well that's another matter. (I've said before that I don't know if the "bi" label fits me, but it's close enough and makes it easier when writing about it.) It feels like it would be easier to come out if I were gay than telling people I've known my whole life that I think I'm bi. Mostly there would be the denial. "You've been married 20 years!" they'd say. "This is just some play for attention?" they'd say. "Huh?" my wife would ask as she dragged her attention away from the spring training stats and Candy Crush game on her laptop. "Did you say something?" 

No, L is probably the last person in the world I would say anything about this too. But if the thought I might get a little side action from A makes her a little jealous? Yea, I'm ok with that.

Missed it by THAT much!

Short post tonight, as I hang my head in shame. I made it five days into my 30 days without porn. I didn't really know if I'd make it the full 30 days, but I figured I'd get through at least a week. Oh, well, I'll try again... sometime. Maybe.

It's "shark week" in our house (my clever euphemism for my wife being on her period), and I was feeling a little neglected. She and my niece were downstairs, so I sneakily rubbed one out before they came back up. It was kind of fun, knowing they could come upstairs anytime (but pretty certain they wouldn't.) I had to rush through it more than I normally like, which is why I turned to the porn, but it was good and I needed it!

Speaking of porn, have you ever seen Safe For Work porn? It's hilarious! They take porn scenes and color bad costumes and backgrounds over the actors so that it doesn't look like they're fucking or sucking or whatever.

For example:

Everybody likes a nice peace pipe by the fire

Charming, isn't it?

I laughed hard at this one:

I like digging for the buttery nuggets on the bottom.

 But this one is my favorite:

Take a good look at the kid's mouth!

If you go to the site, be sure to watch the video at the top.

St Patrick's Day Massacre

The wife and I went out with A last night. She's between boyfriends, so it was just the three of us. I'm sure the wife suspects I have a crush on A, but I behave and she likes A so she doesn't complain. Plus she has to figure I don't have a shot at A anyway, since she's 15 years younger and could do a lot better than me.

We had dinner and some drinks at an Irish Pub (the wife was the designated driver, so A and I tipped back a few Irish brews), then went to another bar to have a few more beers. A and I talked about her latest relationship that ended, and I gave her sincere advice on how to get past it, and to forgive the guy for his mistakes. We had some laughs and generally a good time. The wife kept her nose buried in her phone or on the TVs at the second bar, and only participated to a minimal extent. I was okay with that and later she didn't seem upset by anything, so I guess she's good.

We dropped A off, and when we came home the wife asked me to sleep in the spare room because of having drank enough that my snoring was probably going to be bad. I took my cell in with me, and was just buzzed enough to start a conversation with A. Here's how it went.

Me: Still awake?

A: I am

Thanks for hanging out tonight. I had a good time.

Me too. I appreciate the invite :)

Sorry the wife spent so much time playing her game hehe.

Ty for the pitcher as well. Oh no worries I wasn't upset about that. I hope she had fun too.

Yw. Would it make you mad if I said I sometimes imagine it's you and I that are out and she's the friend? Hehe
I didn't hear back from her for a few minutes, so I thought I better cover my ass in case it did make her mad.
Oops, autocorrect. I meant yes she had a good time.
See how smooth I am?

No it wouldn't make me upset. It makes me feel good that you think of me like that. You are lucky to have someone in your life that cares for you as much as you do her.
To be honest I do hope to find that one day. I will eventually find it just got to find one who isn't so emotionally scarred lol.

Hehe... I'm glad it makes you feel good. I do enjoy being around you. And yes you will find that one day.
Everyone has some emotional scars though. And things aren't always as perfect as they seem from the outside.

I enjoy being around you as well. Ty for the vote of confidence. I do sometimes have doubts of finding it lol. I know I'm not looking for someone perfect.
No such thing. I'm looking for an imperfect person who I see as perfect and visa versa
Like I told my ex, it's not about having scars it's about having someone who accepts you for who you are and cares for you anyway and you work together to help each other. That's my opinion anyway.

I agree.
I better let you get to sleep. You're probably already in your jammies, huh?

In my jammies watching TV lol. I can't fall asleep quickly.

I can't either tonight. Too wound up I guess.
No response after a few minutes, and I really was getting sleepy.
I'm going to try to sleep. Take heart, kiddo; your prince is out there somewhere. And until you find him... well it's too bad you aren't the kind of girl who'd fool around with a married guy, haha. ;-)

Ok sleep well ty yeah he is. Lol yea I'm not. I've thought about it but just wouldn't be able to.
Regardless just know you are a great looking guy.

Well thank you, hehe. I think the same of you. Not that you're a greet looking GUY... well, you know what I mean lol.
But if you ever change your mind...

If I ever change my mind you will be the first to know.

I can live with that :-)

So what do you think, do I have an outside shot? Or was she rolling her eyes and just telling a friend what he wanted to hear to shut him up? Was I an idiot for not being more direct in telling her my feelings, or a dumbass for saying anything at all? Did she mean that I'm the married guy that she'd thought about it with, but just can't do it? Is there any chance she'll change her mind, or is it a pipe dream?

God, I feel like I'm right back to being the awkward, dopey loser I was in high school.

Many Talents

I like writing for this blog, but I also like writing erotic fiction. I like reading it to, if it's well done, but writing and getting feedback is kind of a thrill. I publish my stories (anonymously, of course) at www.xnxx.com. here are two of them: April and April Pt 2 . They rate reasonably well among the readers.

They are a fantasy (unfortunately) of what I wish would happen with A, the girl I used to work with.. None of the names except my own are real, but I used the correct first letter.

I wrestled with whether I should point to these stories or not. I'm as much an exhibitionist as I am a voyeur, but this is different from telling about my self and showing my dong. Do yourself a favor and don't read the other stories I posted under the same name. Some of the fantasies I write about are kind of out there. Yes, I know I'm a sick fuck.

What the L?

L ran hot and cold about our sexual relationship almost from the beginning. We'd originally agreed it would be fun, no strings attached, and really just a one-and-done. She was staying with the wife and I for the weekend late that August, while her husband was out of town. Saturday morning when the wife went to work for a half day, we had amazing, mind-blowing sex. We agreed it was great, but that was it and we'd go on like nothing happened. 

That night we went to my partner's house for a cookout, and she and I drank too much (the wife was the designated driver, as usual.) Later at home, when the wife was taking a shower, we kissed a little and played around, but it was just for fun and we laughed it off. The next day L left for home, and the wife and I went to a family picnic. I was in a funk all evening, but I wrote it off as just being hungover from the night before. 

We didn't have any chances to be alone together for several weeks, but during that time we chatted on Skype and SMS, and sometimes it got pretty heated. At other times it seemed like she was ready to pretend "we" had never happened. It was confusing, frustrating, and stressful for me. And it didn't get better over time. 

Her work schedule gave her days off during the week, and I worked my own hours, so I was keen on us meeting half-way and getting a hotel room for some fun. She shot that down every time, saying she didn't want to get caught or raise suspicions. I know she was right, but I was frantic to be alone with her. In my mind, because of her hot and cold nature, I had to get it while I could. And maybe a little more contact would cement the relationship. I don't know, I was fucked in the head for most of the time we were "together." 

One weekend they invited us to come down and spend the night, so we did. The wife got really drunk (which is rare for her) and passed out early, then her husband said he was done a short time later. We were alone in the backyard, so we talked and made out for a while. She started blowing me, and it was amazing, but I was way too drunk to cum. Most of our conversation is a blur to me, with just bits and pieces standing out. We stayed up until 4 a.m. then went to lay down with our respective mates. 

I'd hoped that night was the turning point, and that things would settle in for us. I don't know exactly what I was expecting, I just wanted more consistency about "us" from L. But she couldn't give that. After another week of ups and downs, I finally decided I'd had enough. The stress was incredible and I wasn't able to focus at work. The only good thing was I wasn't eating, so I was losing weight pretty quickly. I called L and said I just couldn't do the sexual part of our relationship anymore, but I wanted to still get together as couples. She agreed, and admitted that my obsessive ness was starting to worry her, and that it would be for the best if we ended that part of things. 

So that fixed everything, right? 

No Porn Challenge

Thanks to this post and this post by Tom at Three Spelling Mistakes (a blog I've just started following), I've decided to try giving up porn for 30 days, starting today (March 13.) Unlike Tom, I'm going to continue reading all my favorite blogs, and if there are any nekkid pictures on them I'll try my best to ignore them. I've had some of the problems mentioned by people experiencing porn addiction, and it will be interesting to see if a sabbatical will make a difference.

I've asked if he intends to stop masturbating during this time, and he hasn't answered yet, but I don't think I'll stop. My opportunities come few and far between as it is, so when I have a chance I'm going to jerk off. I'll just use mental stimulation, which will be harder (no pun intended) but maybe that's the point.

Of course I'll still write here, and many of my posts will be of a sexual nature, but I don't think that will be cheating. Would posting pictures of my dick be considered "porn" for me?. I mean, I don't get turned on by seeing pictures of my own junk, but it does arouse me to think about others seeing my dick and being aroused by it.

I don't know if I should tell my wife I'm giving it up for a month or not. If I don't, she's going to be beside me on the couch looking at her favorite porn, which I will undoubtedly see. But if I do tell her, she's going to wonder just how much porn have I been looking at that I think I might be addicted (she'd be truly surprised). I think I will have to tell her, but I'll probably wait until the first time she's trying to get me to look at something she's [stumbled on].

Well, I'll give semi-regular progress reports on how it's going. It'll be weird, like not having the TV on for background noise while I'm reading or something. But it might do me some good, too.

Update from T

I talked to T again yesterday, and according to him the counseling he and P went to went well. He said they've finally calmed down and stopped yelling at each other, and are now talking to each other. He said P told him the other night that he thinks about being single and seeing other guys. I told T that, yes that would hurt, but P opening up and talking about it is at least a step in the right direction. I also said they both needed to be more honest about their feelings if they were going to have a chance to work things out.

 

T agreed, and said he's just tired of stressing about it. I told him I'm really pulling for he and P to put things back together, and he thanked me. I didn't mention the other stuff, and I'm okay at this point with writing T off as my "first." I don't want to be responsible in even a small way in keeping the two of them from working things out, or getting in the way later on if they're still together. I think I'll just lay low and let them do their thing, and if T wants to get in touch with me as a friend, then that will be up to him. It's the right thing to do, but...

 

Who's a guy got to blow around here to find a guy to blow around here?!

 

I'm not desperate enough to go back to Craig's List; maybe that works out for other people in other cities, but around here I think the kind of guys I'm looking to meet are too skittish, like me. I could cruise the parks, or hook up with any random guy, I guess, but that's just not who I am. I've never liked random hook-ups with women, and even with this I don't want just a meaningless blow-and-go encounter.

 

I want to enjoy the dance, you know? Getting to know the guy, deciding if he's trustworthy, seeing if I could actually develop feelings for a man the way I do with women. Something tells me I won't, or certainly not in the same way as I do with women, but I want to at least try. Plus, however dumb this is, I don't want to use a condom. I'll wear one if the guy insists, but the first cock I have in my mouth I want to be bare. So I have to trust the guy, like I do T, to be honest about his health.

 

I worry about AIDS, and about someone leading me along then blackmailing me (or just outright exposing me for the hell of it). I'm not a small guy, but I worry about getting duped and rolled by someone(s) taking me by surprise. I worry about a police sting, or just some crazy fuck out there looking to fuck someone's shit up somehow for any reason.

 

It sometimes feels like T was my last good chance to do anything, and I don't know if I'll be as comfortable with another situation if and when it comes along. I sincerely wish him and P the best, but there's a selfish part of me that holds out hope that they'll break up, and T will want to get together sometime. But that's hoping for the end of a relationship just so I can live out a fantasy, without really offering T anything in return. That makes me feel like shit.

 

Early Morning Musings

Just for fun, here is the list of extramarital affairs I've had. I'll use real names for people no longer in the picture (which is most of them) and initials for others.

Amanda - We worked together at my first job after getting out of the Army. I was a tech (of course) and she worked the phones inside. The wife had gone home to Germany for a month when Amanda and I started talking, and somehow (this was 17 years ago) I wound up at her house. Nothing happened that night, but I almost kissed her and she almost let me. The next night we went for a ride, and I took her up on the mountain for a really good view over the city. I gave her a shoulder massage, then I kissed her, and she gave me a pretty good blow-job in the front seat and swallowed. We had sex four or five times before the wife returned from Germany, then maybe two times after that. A year later, the wife and I saw her downtown one night and talked for a bit. I haven't seen her since.

Julie - We worked together at a job I had two years later. My boss Dave, Julie, Trish and I all made a business trip to Louisville KY for a weekend. I was the driver, so on the way down the others were drinking (it was Saturday and we didn't have anything to do until Sunday morning) while I stayed sober. I suggested a game of truth-or-dare, and that led to me seeing both women's boobs as well as finding out a lot about them. I really wanted Trish, but she was smitten with Dave, and he had all the money. When we got to the hotel, instead of the two women and two men sharing rooms as planned, Trish and the boss went one way, Julie and I went the other. We had sex in the shower, then all of us went out drinking for a while. When we came back to the room, she and I had sex again but I was at that magic point of drinking where I was rock hard, but could not cum. The next day on the way back home, Dave got a blowjob from Trish, then he drove and Julie blew me in the back seat and swallowed. We had sex two more times after that, and the wife caught us the second time. That was bad. I left the job a few months later and haven't seen any of them since.

Sandy - One night stand I had when in Denver on a business trip with another job. The sex was okay, but she wasn't good at oral. I haven't heard from her since. That was in late '99 or early '00.

L - Ten years after my last fling she came into our lives. I like to tell myself that though I cheat, I'd never leave the wife. But if circumstances were different and L and I could have been together, I would have probably left for her. At some point during the sexual part of our relationship, I think she would have left her husband for me, too. The sex was fantastic, but more importantly I was in love with her. The last time we had sex was New Year's Eve morning in 2010, while we were on vacation together at the beach. Her husband went to play golf, and the wife was down on the beach looking for shark teeth. It was hurried, dirty, and totally satisfying. We weren't officially "over" until this past summer, but that was the last opportunity that we had to be alone while she wanted anything. I think the impossibility of our situation got to her. She's still in our lives, and that makes it harder in some ways. I have more to write about L, and I will someday I think. 

I'd never really thought about it before, but that's not really much of a list.

Possibilities

A - In early 2011, I started working at the job where I met T. A and I were in training together, and we became friends really quickly. We flirted and hung out during lunch a lot, but I never just came right out and said that I wanted her as some good side action. She dumped one boyfriend a few weeks after training started, and I think she might have gone for it then, but then she started dating another guy who she fell hard for. Long story short, no sex yet but I hold out hope. We remain friends, and she has gone out with the wife and I a number of times either solo or with some guy she's dating. I'm kind of like a (much) older brother to her now, I think, and her knowing the wife makes it increasingly unlikely anything will ever happen.

T - The only man in the group, and I've written about him. Nothing yet, but again, I'm still holding out hope. 

If you have any questions about the affairs or possibilities, ask away.

Frustrating!

I can't catch a break!

One of the advantages of having my own business was that I had all the time I needed in the morning to get ready. I could relax and get ready at my own pace, and had plenty of time for leisurely morning wanks every day. My wife leaves for work around 7:00 or 7:30, and I didn't have to be at my office until around 10 unless I had an earlier appointment. I really enjoyed those jack-off sessions!

Of course, one of the bad things about having your own business is the lack of steady income. After 6 years of not making any headway, and getting deeper and deeper in debt, I finally threw in the towel and rejoined the ranks of the gainfully employed. My first job (where I met T) also allowed me to enjoy my morning routine of looking through my favorite porn sites and slowly edging four or five times before allowing myself to cum. But that job sucked in so many other ways that I finally had to leave it for my current job.

I love my current job; the duties are varied enough to keep from getting boring, the people I work with are all reasonably intelligent, and the company itself (a huge, international company) is very employee centric. The problem is I start at 8 in the morning, and it's a 35 minute drive. So I don't get the chance to enjoy myself very often. In fact, for the past 9 months or so the best I've been able to do is a quick pull before my wife wakes up, or the occasional session in the upstairs men's room (it's a one-seater and you can lock the door.) My niece is staying with us for a while too, so I can't even take advantage of the weekends when my wife is sleeping in, because I never know when H will wake up.

So when I had to make an eye doctor appointment for this morning I realized I would have a few hours to myself when they both left for work. Like, two solid hours before I even had to worry about getting ready! I looked forward to it all day yesterday! I was going to get really romantic with myself, and maybe indulge in some of my favorite acts that have become just a distant memory!

Except H (the niece, remember?) came home from work yesterday and told us that she wasn't going into work today because her trainer would be off. Dammit!

Okay, I can salvage this. When she doesn't have to work, H sleeps as long as she can (she's 21, and you know how those kids can sleep.) I wouldn't be able to have as much fun as I'd planned, but I could still enjoy myself and release some pent up energy.

Guess who went to sleep early last night, and is already up! God Dammit! Look at the state this has left me in!

Weekend Update

I gave a handjob to a 14 year-old yeterday!

Oh, calm down. I just mean that I washed and waxed my '99 Pathfinder. You should have seen your face though! That was priceless!

Nothing reminds you how old and out of shape you are more than the morning after spending two hours cleaning your car. I hate to think what playing softball this spring on the company's beer league is going to do to me.

The weather yesterday was just nice enough for the wife and I to ride the bike. It was a little chilly, but a good, short ride to knock the winter rust off my motorcycle skills.

Me in tight leather. Good luck getting that image out of your head!

I finally had the time AND the money to restock my cigar humidor. I like to have a good smoke on nice days, and I was able to get one in both Saturday and Sunday.

So how was your weekend?

The Problem With Being Me

Though I'm actively pursuing my fantasy to suck a cock and swallow a man's load, I worry that if the opportunity does come up I'll be in my own head too much to go through with it or enjoy it if I do. I worry about things like:

How hot I think my first bisexual experience will look:

How hot it will actually look:

I know it's stupid, but I keep getting the image in my head of what a third party would see if they were watching us, and it ain't pretty. To be fair, though, I do the same thing when I imagine myself with different women too.

Why I Don't Tell Her

Like I'm sure a lot of men in my position do, I kick around the idea of telling my wife what's going on with me. Even though I'm not sure if the label "bisexual" fits me, it would be easier to use it when telling her, and explaining what exactly it is I want. The appeal to this is that there are two possible outcomes: either she accepts it and lets me pursue the fantasy (and possibly even actively participates, but that's probably asking too much), or she completely rejects it, thinks I'm a disgusting pig, and divorces me. You know, win-win.

In my mind, the first possibility would be good. I think a lot of my dissatisfaction with being married comes from the frustration of wanting more than she can provide. If I could pursue my fantasies (and of course that would include fucking other women as well as the oral with guys), I'd be content with that. I wouldn't want to leave the wife, and we could go on happily ever after.

And the second option would work for me just as well. If she divorced me because she couldn't deal with this part of me, then I'm off the hook. And she would feel justified in leaving, so neither of us would be the bad guy. I can't say for sure, but I'm almost certain she wouldn't out me to my friends and family out of spite; as many faults as I can list when I'm in a nit-picky mood, so far that kind of mean-spiritedness isn't one of them.

Unfortunately, the actual outcome would be neither of those possibilities, but something awkward and uncomfortable in between. She'd be able to accept acknowledge that I have those desires, and she might even sympathize with me. In the moment of the conversation, she might come around to agreeing  that I would have to experience it at least once to know if it was really something I desire or not. 

But when push came to shove, she'd balk. If an opportunity came along, she give me that disapproving look and say "do what you have to do" in her dismissive way. And if I headed for the door to do what I have to do, it would become a fight. She'd have reached a specific conclusion when I first said "I'm bisexual", and nothing I said after that would sway her from that specific conclusion. She'd make snide comments, insinuating that something must be going on any time I mentioned something funny one of the guys at work said. She'd assume I was lusting for every guy out there.

So if this happens, it's going to have to happen without her knowing about it. That will make it even more difficult to manage, but I don't know how else it could be.

Rub a dub dub

I was shown how to jerk off when I was 9 or 10 by one of the older kids in my neighborhood, and I've been addicted to it ever since. I didnt have much in the way of dick then, but what kid that age does? It felt good, and that's all that mattered!

I've always wondered if other guys who started early could have multiple orgasms? I'd rub my little nub for about two minutes to have the first one, then for what seemed like hours I could stop for twenty seconds then rub it a little for another orgasm, rinse and repeat. All night long! My mother couldnt understand why I was so tired every morning. She started making me go to bed earlier, but that just gave me more time to play with myself!

Once I started ejaculating at 13, it never happened like that again. I was one and done from then on. I miss those younger days.

Did you or anybody you know have a similar experience?

Paying the Fiddler

A friend of mine once very colorfully described the hangover he was experiencing as "I could shit through a screen door and not leave a stain." That's about how I'm feeling this morning.

We went to see Joe, a family friend, last night. Joe is 70 or 71, and he has bought season tickets to the local baseball team for himself and the wife for the past few years. He doesn't go to many of the games, but when he does he likes going with her because 1) she drives and 2) they can talk baseball.

I've done pretty well the past few months cutting back on my drinking, especially during the week. But going to Joe's means I'm going to have at least three beers. Last night I had four, and if I'd stopped there I would have been fine.

But of course I didn't stop there. We left Joe's and by the time we got home I knew I was ready to cut loose! Some fair amount of bourbon later, I stumbled to the spare room (I snore loud under the best of circumstances, and it's much worse when I'm drunk, so I use the spare room on nights like that to spare the wife) and passed out.

I'm paying for it this morning.

Missed Opportunities

The best chance I've had to fulfill my fantasy of sucking a cock since I was 17 (when I did, but it didn't work out very well) was with a man I worked with at my previous job. T was a trainer in my class, and then when I was on the floor he was second level support. T is openly gay, and invited those of us in his class to his "wedding" (Virginia doesn't recognize any rights to same-sex couples yet). On more than one ocassion while we worked together T made comments that made me wonder if he was interested, but I didn't take them seriously. I've never considered myself good looking, and though I was 30 lbs leaner then than I am now I would never presume that anybody would actually want me. When the following happened, I no longer worked there, but was able to get in touch with T through a mutual friend.

When the (usually) latent desire to suck has hit me in the past, it would last a week or so then go away. It would be intense, and I would jack off imagining stuffing a dick in my mouth and swallowing it's load (the "guy" was never really a factor in the fantasy), maybe taste my own cum for a little more authenticiy, but then it would fizzle out. Last summer was different; the desire was more intense and never did go away. The desperation of it died down over time, but even now I'm still more determined than I ever was before to making it happen.

Originally I just wanted advice from T how to find someone clean, safe and discrete. Craigslist didn't work out for me, and living in a small town I just didn't have any other ideas. I asked him to meet me for lunch (though in hindsight it might have been easier to just ask him via text), but didn't give him any idea of what I wanted to talk about.

It was a lot harder to start the conversation than I thought it would be, and that we sat at the bar while we ate didn't help. I'd hoped for the privacy of a booth, but he was already sitting at the bar when I arrived, and I was too nervous and felt too awkward to suggest moving. After a lot of hemming and hawing, and meaningless small talk, I finally worked up the courage to just say it: "I want to have sex with a guy, and I need help finding someone."

T was surprised by my admission, because I don't think most people would consider me "that way," but sympathized with my plight. He actually said (and he looked so earnest and sincere saying it that I almost bust out laughing) "I'm so proud that you chose me to share this with. I know how hard it must have been to say it, and I just want to give you a big hug!" I was also kind of touched, though.

He asked some questions to clarify what I was looking for ("Do you want to participate, or just lay back and let it happen to you?"), then confessed that he'd had a crush on me since the first day of training. He was worried that I would be offended by that, but I assured him that I was flattered. My self esteem is such that I can never understand why anyone would be inerested in me, but it makes me feel good to hear something like that even if I don't fully believe it, deep down.

T had gotten "married" to his partner while I worked with him, so when I asked on the spur of the moment if he would be interested in being the guy, I didn't know if that relationship would be a hinderence or not. He almost immediately said "yes!" (and again, I almost had to laugh because of how excited he looked), and when I asked about P (his husband) he said what P didn't know wouldn't hurt him. He asked me about the wife, and I parroted what he'd said. (I'll always be a cheater, as bad as that sounds, even if the opportunities don't come very often.) P would be out of town in two weeks for some family thing that T wouldn't be able to get off work to go to, so we agreed that the Sunday he was gone would be a good time. I worked out a plausible cover story to get out of the house for a few hours that day, and nervously anticipated the date.

As the day approached, he and I sent texts back and forth. I'd told him upfront that I wasn't attracted to men, that it was just the act of it that interested me, but I tried to be flirty for his benefit. I even sent naughty pictures, and when he sent them back I'd admire them and tell him how much I wanted that cock in my mouth. For him, it was an actual attraction and, as he put it, the opportunity to do something with a guy he really lusted after. I kind of started getting into it, even if it was more a game for me than anything, and decided that I would just let myself go, be as unselfconcious and out of my own head as possible. I even considered how it would be to kiss him during the... activities. It wasn't something that interested me, but I thought I could do it if T wanted, to make it better for him. I wanted him to enjoy it, or I wouldn't be able to, if that makes any sense.

But, as always, something happened. In the last few days leading up to the weekend, I started noticing a difference in the way he responded, a distance that hand't been there earlier. I finally called him out on it, and insisted he tell me what was going on when he tried to be evasive. Finally, he told me that he was starting to feel guilty because of P. Now me, I don't feel guilty about my actions in regards to the wife. I would feel bad if she found out, and it hurt her, but nothing I do will affect her as long as she doesn't know (and I don't give her a disease.) But I can understand why T would feel that way, so I let him off the hook. He felt bad about letting me down, but I assured him I'd rather he have these feelings before doing something than regret it later after it was too late. (I'm a sensitive guy; what can I say?)

We agreed that we would still be friends, and that we would meet up for lunch or drinks or whatever. I told him I was going to still send him pictures to torment him about what he was passing up, but it was more a joke than anything. Still, I like showing off my junk, so I figured every once in a while I would anyway, if he wanted. He said he did.

I wish I could end this story here, and I imagine if you've read this far you wish I would too. Unfortunately, something happened later and I'm not sure if T and I are still friends or not.

T and I kept in touch somewhat over the next few months. He'd send me a text, or I him, just asking what's up, how are you doing, etc. We'd agreed we wouldn't say anything naughty without first saying something normal, and a response would indicate it was clear.

Back in January I asked him if he was sure he didn't want to get together (kind of joking, but also kind of serious) and he said that he had been thinking about it, and to not give up on him. We teased and flirted a little the rest of the day, but his last text came in while I was at home, so I ignored it and figured I'd answer the next day. The next morning, without thinking, the first thing I sent was "by the way, you still owe me a picture if you want to show me how 'hard' you've been thinking about me." Some 20 minutes later he replied "Whoa! What happened to checking all was clear first?"

I apologized, and he said he didn't think P had seen anything, he'd just handed T the phone and said "it buzzed." I apologized again, and admitted I'd have been pissed if he'd done that to me. I didn't hear back from him after that, so I decided to let it lie.

A week or so later I sent a text asking how things were going. He said "fine", and that was it. I figured with a gay man, "fine" means the same thing it does with a woman, so I asked if he was still mad at me. He said he wasn't mad, it just scared him and really bothered him. I apologized again and he said he and P had been having troubles lately, so they might not even be together much longer. I sympathized and he told me about some of their problems (no communication, etc) We said we'd meet for lunch sometime, and that was it.

Then one night when we were heading back home from visiting my sister (that's a really long series of stories there!), while I was recuperating from a migraine that had struck earlier in the afternoon (the wife was driving), he sent a text asking what I was doing. He said that apparently P had seen the text after all, and it led to a big fight when he finally confronted T over it. I asked if he was okay (telling the wife that he was asking computer questions) and told him I'd talk with him the next day when I wasn't distracted by the migraine.

The next day I apologized again for the text, and asked where things stood after the fight with P. He never answered, and I didn't feel like digging at the time. It's been a month now, and I haven't heard from him. I'd like to reach out again, ask how he is and how things are with them. Part of it is genuine concern for a friend (who may not think very highly of me anymore), but I have to admit that part of it is the other thing. I just don't have any other good prospects for living this fantasy out, and it was so close with T! But truly, over and above everything else, I just don't like the idea of someone being mad at me.

Batter Up!

My time for writing is limited for now, because I just don't have the kind of privacy at home I'd need to write the things I want to write about. My wife gets in her own world with her computer games and TV shows, and even though she's sitting right beside me on the couch she really doesn't know I'm there. But she seems to have a sixth sense about when I'm wanting to do something naughty, or just write about it. Then she's all up on me, looking over my shoulder to see what I'm doing.

But in a few weeks baseball season will start and I'll become a baseball widower. We have a local, Single A farm team that she has season tickets for, so when they're playing at home I'll have a lot more time to myself. Even with my niece living with us, I'll be able to write more during the home games.

My wife is from Germany, and hadn't had any exposure to baseball until we were home on leave after we got married (I was in the Army, stationed in Germany, when I met her. I'll write about that later.) She took to it the first game she ever saw, and since she was watching TBS she became hooked on the Atlanta Braves. That's been over 20 years ago, and now she's as knowledgable about baseball as anybody I know.

I'm not really big into baseball myself, though I do follow the Yankees in the post season, but I used to love going to the local games. Three years ago we got season tickets for the first time, and I was excited about going and socializing with some friends of ours who were going. The first month or so was fun, and I even picked up a few things I didn't know before. My wife ruined the experience for me, though, because she became obsessed with getting souvenirs from players, especially broken baseball bats.

It started innocently enough: one evening a player on the opposing team cracked his bat while he was up. He got another bat, and the bat boy in their dugout put the cracked one in a corner for later disposal. One of the guys we sat with at the game told my wife "I'm getting that bat!" Apparently the player was considered a big prospect, so having something of his from Single A could be a big deal later if he was a major leaguer with cred. Near the end of the game, he went to sit by their dugout and my wife went with him. Right at the last out he went to the outside corner of the dugout, and as the player came back in he yelled out the guys name and asked if he could have the broken bat. The player said sure, and handed it to him.

The wife was hooked. From that night on, she had to stay until the end of the game (often after 10 p.m. when I really wanted to be home by 9) to try to get someone's bat. All she would talk about during the game was trying to get a bat, or being pissed if some kids were sitting in the seat she wanted to be in by the 9th inning. If kids got in front of her and got the bat first, she'd be frustrated to tears on the way home because they got "her" bat. There were times older boys would be pushing up against her trying to get over her back to get to the player first, but the wife is stout and she would hold them off.

(Honestly, those boys were in the wrong in those situations, and I almost got into a fight with one guy who was practically pushing my wife over the retaining wall trying to get around her. I pulled him off her and had him by the collar with my fist drawn back when I realized he was probably 15 or 16, though quite big, and that nothing good would come of this. The point is, the wife's needless obsession put her in those spots to begin with.)

I got fed up with the whole thing, and finally just told my wife I didn't want to go to the games anymore. I told her it was about the players (some of whom were really rude to the fans), but that it was also about staying until the end of the game every night when I needed to get some sleep. She wanted me to go to at least some of the games, so we agreed that during the week we'd leave by 9, and on the weekends we'd stay until the end. I still couldn't stand being there with her,listening to her go on and on about the players. I couldn't get into a conversation about anything else with our friends because she'd butt in to say something completely unrelated about baseball. I tried to explain to her that a big part of my not wanting to go was because of her obsession, but it made little impression on her.

And of course it didn't take long until our agreement to leave at 9 was forgotten. It started with a "can we please just stay one more inning tonight," then within a week or so she'd nicely ask if we could stay until the end "just this once" (which was never just once). If I said "yes" she'd be satisfied, but if I stood my ground and said "no", she'd be pissed and the rest of the night would be uncomfortable silence. Although compared to the normal baseball-centric monlogues, the silence was blessed relief!

Finally, I stopped going altogether, and she stopped asking. She could stay until the end of the game if I didn't go (and never mind that it still kept me up) and before long our spare room started filling with baseballs and cracked bats, which she would spend a good thirty minutes sorting and tagging. She'd come home from work to sort out which ball or minor league cards she was taking to that day's game for autographs. When the local team was away, she'd sit on the couch watching a game on TV, following another game on her computer, and a small radio tuned to the station for the play-by-play of our team!

If I were feeling horny, I'd try to give my subtle signals (like touching and kissing, and saying "let's have sex"), but she would be too wrapped up in the games to pay attention. We wouldn't even get to bed until 10 or later, and then if I made a move I'd get "It's too late for that now," like somehow I should have done something earlier. When, out of frustration, I'd point out I'd tried all night, she'd get defensive and pout, and say "fine, I just won't watch baseball anymore since you're so against it." Of course that would be forgotten (and it's not like that's what I was wanting anyway), and the same scene would play over and over again.

I finally just stopped trying. I'd get the occassional roll on a Saturday morning (and then it would be "hurry up, we have things to do"), but more often than not I'd be left frustrated. Of course I'd jack off (every morning, like cock-work) (see what I did there?) (No, that wasn't a typo), and that was fun and would relieve the tension, but I still wanted sex with her. I just hated the constant rejection.

That was the year we celebrated 20 years of wedded bliss. By our actual anniversary date, I was fed up with baseball, and with her. We went to Philadelphia to get matching tattoos and just to sight-see (another long story I may or may not tell some day), and on the big day, when we were in our hotel room mid-day, I wanted some celebratory nookie. We'd talked about taking a nap (it had been a long day) so I figured we'd knock one out before drifting off to sleep. She spent 45 minutes on her laptop looking up stats from a number of major and minor league games from the night before, then got in bed and said "I'm tired," rolled over and went to sleep.

I've known since our third or fourth year of marriage that it was a mistake, and that I'm just not that faithful kind of guy. It's not her fault, I just don't want the same sex all the time. She's made it clear whenever I brought up the subject that she has no interest in going beyond the most basic, normal sex. She'll give me head, but rarely lets me cum in her mouth and never swallows. We've done anal, but it's not something either of us considers a great deal of fun. I mean, it's okay, but I have to be in the mood for it and I rarely am. Another woman in bed with us? Forget it. I told her I'd even be willing to do MFM (I didn't tell her that I actually lusted after the idea), and that I'd consider the other guy just like one of the toys for her pleasure, but nope. She won't even consider it.

The point is, I've known for some time that my married sex life would be a bit boring for the rest of my life, but was okay with it. It was on that day, though, that a lot of my passion and desire for the wife died. Things have gotten better since then, but I still find myself less willing to initiate sex than I'd been previously. Later that same summer I started a sexual relationship with another woman, and that really drove home how much intimacy and passion I was missing with the wife. But I will tell that story another time.

This started out as just a quick post to explain that I wouldn't get to post a lot until baseball season started. Whew! I feel a lot better getting that off my chest!