A SECOND CHANCE…

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Being vulnerable letting him back in.

We met years ago by happenstance, he just restarting his career and I locked into purgatory, my walls closing in, not a glint of light at the end of the tunnel. Our emails transformed into late night phone calls, we’d talk for hours sometimes. I recall being so sleepy during the day after a night on the phone with him, promising myself; tonight I would not answer his call and get some sleep. I didn’t make it, but I made him promise that we would talk for a few minutes then hangup and we would both get some rest. We tried texting. It allowed us both to sleep, him from after shift at 1:30AM and I a full normal night’s rest. But the first opportunity we were up all night again on the phone catching up from the week we missed talking.

Thanksgiving, Christmas and New Years passed and still we had not met. Yet, I felt we had known each other for years, not just three months. I felt tremendous trepidation about meeting him, I found endless reasons not to travel to meet him and countless times rebuking his offers to travel to me. I had baggage, afraid it would ruin the chemistry we had built. How long could I actually put off our first meeting? Then one blistery day in January, I took the plunge, told him I was planning to drive down to see him. The excitement building within me as my departure day grew closer. Every morning I would awaken saying; I have no business going down there…by lunch I would be knee deep in my closet putting together the perfect out fit for our first meeting, the excitement so powerful sometimes unable to eat.

The morning arrived, it was predawn, I packed my car, headed south. I stayed in a hotel a few miles from his place.

That night he finished around 1:45AM. He called to give me directions, he would head home now. I phoned the valet to bring my car around. The streets were empty, the houses around his were all pitch black. He had not arrived by the time i reached his place. I told myself, this was a sign, I should cut and run, while I could. Just as I opened my car door, I saw car lights coming towards me. The lights became brighter, moving closer. A patrol car. The car parked, a uniformed officer got out, began to walk towards me. I was frozen, my hand still on the car’s lever, but not open. Quickly trying to form some sort of plan as to how to explain why I’m on this street, this hour of the morning. The officer continued to approach me, tall, built man with a buzz cut. As I released the car’s lever, moved to turn more facing him, he walked up, grabbed me and kissed me passionately and deeply. My vagina fluttered, my nipples became erect as I received his tongue in my mouth, as I pressed myself against him.

He took a step back, looked me up and down and said; ”I’ve been waiting a long time to do that.”

We were a couple of sorts. He a single man, re-establishing himself as a police officer, after serving in the Federal Boarder Patrol in Nogales, Arizona. I, an unhappy women in a loveless, sexless marriage, just wanting someone to adore me, care about me, desire sex with me. We were happy for several months, traveling back and forth many times during the six months we were hot and heavy. Then one day were the opposite of happy, at least I was.

My first clue, he was no longer attentive. He use to insist on picking me up from the airport. He began paying for a car, not being at his place when I arrived. The third time, it was two hours and he still had arrived home. He was under the notion because I had a key, I had nothing to complain about. During my third visit I did not bother to unpack, instead I ordered a car, made hotel reservations, had the car drop me off at the rental car company, drove a rental to the hotel. Once I checked in I purposely turn my phone off. I showered, changed into an off the shoulder dress, a pair of sandal heels, put my hair in a messy up-do drove to a nice restaurant. I purposely found a place that would be crowded, have a nice bar, crowded of course, where I could order wine and dinner at the bar. I enjoyed a huge salad with ample shrimp, warm bread and several glasses of wine. My mistake. Having missed lunch, the wine went straight to my head. I decided dessert would combat the wine, which it did not. I convinced the valet to drive me back to my hotel, ordered him a car to take him back to the restaurant.

Once I settled in my room, I turned my phone on. Voicemail, text messages filled my screen. I sat, gazing at my phone and on impulse deleted them all. Two days later, while waiting on my flight to board, I pulled up my contact list, found his name, clicked block.

It would seem the heart has a tendency to forego pain. Five years later, after numerous texting back and forth for three weeks, returning from a business trip, I am heading to his house, to see him again. Before this trip, during all that texting some two, three times a day, some very hot and sultry messages, I decided to open myself, to be vulnerable to him. Allowing him to feel secure and in charge. It worked. We had some of the best exchanges, better than any we’d had prior.

Upon my arrival, he was excited to see me. The look on his face and the bulge in his shorts solidified that. We left my bags in my car, headed inside where he promptly blindfolded me. I instantly became wet between my legs and nipples hard as rocks. One touch, I knew I would explode. Instead of going down on me he pulled out a toy. As I laid on the bed half dressed, blindfold on, he began to masturbate me with this toy. Of course I came, I actually orgasmed a couple of times. Next thing I knew he had ”mounted me” was fucking me hard. This went on for a while. On my back, on his bed, he pounded (literally) for what seemed like more than ten minutes. Just as I removed the blindfold, I saw him withdraw and shoot cum on to my chest all over my necklaces, barely escaping my hair. He got up, got a warm wash cloth for me and that was it. He took a shower, I retrieved my suitcase from the car, showered while he dressed. When I walked into the living room, he was fast asleep. It was then I notice a few things, later confirming them on day two of my visit with him.

Two days, three nights in his bed we had sex one time, actual intercourse, again it took him awhile to cum. Day three turned out to be a rainy day, complete wash-out of thunder and torrential downpours. I was departing early the next morning, so we decided to stay in, order Mediterranean take out and watch movies. He made no move towards being intimate, I was certainly dressed sexy enough. Made suggestive moves, brushed against him – nothing. Finally, after two movies I told him to go take a shower, to which I joined him. It was…well, as I suspected. Further proof, was a porn clip of a woman giving a guy a blow job as I gave him one of the best blow jobs I could give. He did not cum, he did not get rock hard, flaccid at best. My heart sank, coupled with the weigh gain, bouts of sleeping, he was possibly experiencing low testosterone.

I let him sleep the next morning while I dressed and loaded my things into my car. I woke him briefly to say good-bye he merely rolled over (he had to work later that day 1:30p -1:30a) over went back to sleep. About two hours later, he called asked me why I did not wake hime before I left? I didn’t have the heart to tell him I had…forgetfulness being another thing I observed.

Men, please, if you are experiencing low moods, less urge for intimacy with your partner, forgetting more than usual and weight gain…have your testosterone level checked. You owe it to your loved one. There are home test available…avoid those unwanted conversations with a health care provider until you are sure.

I unfortunately don’t know how to have that conversation with him. Certainly not by text, phone or email. Heading back his way in a few weeks…lots to contemplate. He says the words, it’s the intimacy that is missing. I enjoy his company, we do get along, it’s just that one thing…

Navigating Your Libido During a Pandemic

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I cannot believe I forgot to post this during the last year’s heavy lockdown. It’s April 2021, a year later and things are beginning to ease just a bit. A lot has happen over the past 12 months…too, much to go into now. But I will say life has change one hundred, eighty degrees [seperation]. The two I mention below are not a tattered memory. Yes, I dumped them both back in late 2020. I did a lot of house cleaning, last year. Not only is my closet, amour, kitchen cabinets well organized, but my black book lost some it’s pages. Sadly, it was more difficult deciding to send my beloved three inch Manolo’s to Goodwill than literally tearing pages from my infamous black book. Apparently a life threatening pandemic gives one, at least this girl, cause to pause to rethink who is worthy and who needs to be torn away.

Also during the pandemic I tried all the sites. No rhyme or reason, just because. Do you recall my talk on hookup websites? Scroll back, they were not only interesting but educational. Here are some that I found recently; Pure, Freedly, OKCupid, SilverPoly (yes polyamory for the matured crowd), Match.com, Bumble and my old favorites Ashley Madison and AdultFriendFinder.

AdultFriendFinder, found the admiral and his wife. {Sigh} They were yummy, I still kick myself for letting them go for the egomaniac (police chief). What was I thinking??? I suppose the thrill of adult sex clubs were just, too much to resist. And apparently, I was more than willing to put up with his highness the asshole of assholes. Ashley Madison, found the school teacher who had no idea what a good blow job was about. After my first blow in the bunker of an army reserve park, his cock would grow just seeing me.

And now things have slowed to a crawl. No hugging, definitely no kissing and certainly no french kissing of anyone that doesn’t live in your household…

The original posting, saved dated April 28, 2020

WHAT DID YOU REVEL TO YOURSELF WHILE QUARANTINED?

I ordered all sorts of toys, viewed countless videos from every site from around the world. This seemed to satisfy my libido during the heavy lockdown, end of March through late May. I gotta tell you, that’s a ton of batteries, from AAA to C. The one thing I discovered, once I was out of lockdown and felt safe to venture out for some real cock, I wanted to approached everything in a different way.

So far, wanting and doing are two different horses each of varying colors.

Who’s safe and who is A symptomatic? Not wanting to chance encounters with strangers, I found myself propped in bed one night looking through my black book (absolutely yes, even in this digital age a black book is necessary). I came across two possibles. One, I would dread, the other I would have to be smart and on my peas & ques to accomplish my goal at my pace, for me, in my own time.

The first was a big disappointment. Some men, just never make it to that level of maturity, that sense of being wise. Knowing that it’s not always about your cock, man’s best friend, can make a gray templed guy very sexy. There’s something about a man that knows a woman needs a little pumping up, if you will, in order to get his aging, raging cock sucked without the aid of a blue pill. Then there are those who have missed it entirely; still thinking that the faded six pack, graying hair, those crow’s feet that show even when you’re not smiling are just, too sexy to resit, are just immature with their heads so far up their ass that by standing naked in front of a full length mirror stands the body he had 20 years ago. Has anyone besides me noticed that men who have never married or had children are just plain dumb when it comes to cultivating a friendship with a mature woman?

Afterthought

I have to wonder, with the shutdown, how many couples, who were literally stuck with each other for weeks on end, did they play in the bedroom? Did they one day while watching Netflix decided to ask; “honey, let’s explore our sexuality”. Let’s shop the internet for some toys, to spice things up. Let’s recreate a fantasy.

I personally purchased a new set of ben wa balls and treated myself to a couple of items from Octopussy. Video chat became a go to for masturbastion.

Just because there’s a life threatening pandemic, that doesn’t mean the libido stops!

AS always I leave you happier, horny and informed

love, Addison

addieg.blog@gmail.com

I must be a mermaid, I have no fear of depths, and a great fear of shallow living”

Anais Nin

Man, Woman, Man, Man

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I’ve been toying around with this impulse for a few years. I have literally been in every type of sensual situation there is.  With some exceptions (beastiality, excessive bondage & a few more).  Maybe it’s the maturing factor that has me teetering on the edge of settling down.  What I want is a relationship with a woman and a man, weather it be under one roof or three different roofs. I would even consider two guys and myself. I just don’t think my mechanics is meant for the traditional man-woman type relationship.  I’m more apt to being true to two than being tied to one…

Of course I’ve tried the one on one as we dove into the world of Swingers. That was interesting and there were some fun moments. We traveled the tropics and basked in the warm sun, gentle breezes, clear waters, sex on the beach with the wife while the husband watched, or the wife going down on me while I engaged in fellatio with her spouse. Or my partner having anal with the wife while the spouse perform cunnilingus on me.

I think the most memorable was being on the west coast, we met this couple at a Super Swingers party.  We went to a mutual room had traditional Swinger’s sex and went our separate way. The sex was delicious! Two nights later, we entered one of my favorite west coast dining spots a little early for our reservation, we decided to sit at the bar until our table was ready. In walks the couple from two nights ago. We decided why not have dinner together. As we dined, of course we reminisced, rehashed the delights we had enjoyed. A couple of bottles later we were on our way to their place to create more delicious memories.  The women traveled together, as did the men. We texted rules as we traveled to their home. Things like; no clothes allowed past the foyer. Stop word would be “red”. Other than moaning, sounds of pleasure, no sentences necessary.  Upon arrival I undressed completely, I then undressed my partner, who in turn undressed the husband (interesting, I thought to myself) and he undressed his wife. As he removed her thong panties, he inserted sliver Ben Wa balls into her vagina. She attached silver nipple clamps on my rock hard nipples and began to finger fuck me, lubing my clit with my juices. I dropped to my knees and began sucking both penis’, making them both bob up and down with sexual excitement. Ben Wa balls were inserted into my wet pussy and I had my first climax. The husband began to masturbate oozing clear juice that he used to rub on his wife’s pink nipples. As they hardened he attached a set of gold nipple clamps. While she rubbed my clit, gathering juices, she began to rim my anus. I began to rub her clit and inserting my wet fingers into her husband’s mouth, he suck my fingers like a cock. Nipple clamps were put on both men’s nipples and a cock ring was put on the husband. The Ben Wa balls were removed from the wife and my partner inserted his rock hard penis in her dripping wet pussy. She climaxed as he fucked her doggy style while she licked and sucked my pussy with Ben Wa balls still inserted. I was wild with a cascade of climaxes. My partner pulled out of the wife’s wetness and the husband began to lick his wife’s juice off of my partner’s raging cock. While he sucked my partner I sucked him. The wife moved in behind me and began to to rim my anus with her tongue and  darting in and out of my anus. When my partner climaxed, the husband inserted his hard cock into my anus while my partner masturbated my clit. The husband climaxed, I climaxed, my partner licked the wife’s clit, she climaxed and my partner climaxed again while the husband masturbated his once again hard cock.  While in the shower, my partner soaped the wife’s anus, inserted his cock as she inserted a life size rubber penis into the the her  pussy. The husband inserted a penis dildo into my pussy, I soaped my anus and guided him inside.

It’s moments like those that confirm my desire for a man woman relationship. I’ve tried the sites. But they’re either newbies, not sure of what they want, no experience, couples who hop from one person to the next or the quirky couple likes to have sex in cars and public places.  I’m thinking a nice, maybe older couple who had swinging fun back in the day, still wants to enjoy the pleasures but ready to settle on one special lady.

Are you out there, somewhere?  Man, woman, man, man ready to share for the long term?

addie   addieg.blog@gmail.com

 

 

 

 

 

Brave Soul, Cunning, Bravely Not So Smart?

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A married woman has not had been intimate with her spouse in 10 years. She has not had intercourse with him in 10 years. Yeah, they’re still married, living under the same roof.

I began to pondering  this, wondered if this is a common marital arrangement. Would you consider this an “arrangement”? A polygamous relationship is an arrangement, why wouldn’t this be the same?  As you process the situation, you have a horde of questions. Was this mutually agreed upon?  How did you arrive with the sleeping arrangements? Who decided which closet, bathroom, bedroom? Does the normal everyday stuff change? Is that divide like roommates or does the everyday stuff remain as close to resembling a married couple for the sake of those looking in? And is there nudity? Usually married people of couples in committed relationships expose their naked bodies as a natural part of co-habitation. One would assume, if there’s no co-mingling there’s no kissing…no pecks…no nothing. With all this unknown running through my mind, I had to learn more.  Was she a brave soul? Or a really cunning woman? Or just bravely stupid?  I told relish calling people the “s” word, but it seems appropriate in this case.

Upon further conversation, gaining permission to write about this in my blog, I found myself marveled at her sense of control of her life, her goals, her accomplishments. Yes, accomplishments!  She was a dutiful wife until one day her spouse of many years was diagnosed with a non life threatening ailment. It would not be cured, he would not die and there is no cure. It became all about him and his ailment. Everyday was dedicated to his need to be fulfilled as a man, even the sex itself was no longer about her but him getting his ejaculation when he needed to feel manly. Her vagina, having been had no issues in the past, suffered a metamorphis due to the medication he was on that wouldn’t cure him, but help him manage the ailment. She wanted to continue being an intimate couple but wanted him to use a condom. A simple request, right?  Well, no! Not so simple. He used them for awhile and eventually he stopped…stopped having intercourse. I was reminded that he didn’t do anything to give her a happy ending. No finger, no tongue, no vibrator. She was left to find her own orgasm. He didn’t want to talk about sex. He began to tell her no so nice things about her body. He made her feel unattractive and unappreciated as a woman.

Five years past. She reminded me that when the 5 year mark came around she didn’t plan to have an affair, it was, a natural progression. She was, in her words: “…ready to be fucked by a man’s penis and not a dildo.”  What she discovered, unbeknownst to her, she missed giving pleasure to a man more than having intercourse, more than having him lick her clit, more than him finger fucking her, sucking her tits. She began to experiment orgasmic sensations while sucking a mans cock. The more it grew, the harder it became, the wetter she would get until she felt the pulsation of an orgasm. She use to gag when going deep with a penis, now she likes to go deep, stroke it with her tongue, lick his balls and swallow as much of the penis as she could fit into her mouth.  This of course made the guy she was having the affair with ape shit for her. Made him want her more. They were together for a few months and she decided to move on, to explore her feminine curious side.

Three years past while she was engaged with sexual pleasure with select people when she met a couple whom seemed perfect. They shared many interest and they both made her feel sexually desirable and wanted.  You see it’s one thing to feel sexy, it whole different story to be sexually desired. Her time with them made the world a perfect place. She’d give some reason for having to spend the weekend away from home. It was a fantasy. The three of them in another city with the freedom of anonymity, gave her a sense of prowess. She changed her hair, her style of dress, brought sexy panties with matching bras and on one trip she returned with a discreet tattoo that was meant for lovers only.

Twelve years in, she got the serious stuff done. Vaginal rejuvenation, strategic cool sculpting, starting hot yoga, pilates and long walks on the beach with her trusty canine. She was always selective, but more so now. The couple moved due to job promotion, she visited a few times, but it’s been a couple of years since she’s seen them.

“Somethings” She told me. ” Are good for the short term, too much takes away the goodness, lessens the appeal.”

On that I have to agree wholeheartedly.  It’s a defining factor for nonmonagamy. It lends to the saying, variety is the spice of life.

She remains in her marriage, as a convenience, to maintain the lifestyle she’s accustom to and the family structure, so much as it is, intact.  He’s not demonstrated any interest in all these years of abstinence. She secure with herself and who she is. Although he still makes derogatory comments, they no longer bother her.

I asked the obvious. Do you think he’s aware of your sexual prowess?  Her response. “Oh I’m sure it’s crossed his mind at some point, but he’s not into me and he’s of a mindset, if he isn’t, no one else would be either.” 

I say Brave Soul…anyone who goes against the grain of society, especially when it’s carnal knowledge has got a lot of chutzpah. A toast for the lady.

glasses

Addison
adding.blog@gmail.com

 

Simple Arithmetic

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It’s simple arithmetic. One plus two equals three. But this simple equation can become complex. It’s fairly simple when you have three eggs, three oranges, three bottles of beer, three people out for a jovial night of fun, three friends.

Complexity is, as they say, in the eye of the beholder.  L’amour de trois is open sex with three people, two men & a woman or two women & a man. There’s no complexity even if they trois frequently. They enjoy having sex with like minded people. The two men enjoy sexual intercourse with each other and they like the added bonus of a tits & pussy. There are plenty of married, conventional married couples that enjoy the company of another man. He may like to watch his wife engage with another man and the other man to engage with him. He sucking him off while he performs cunnilingus on the wife. It’s a matter of choice who actually penetrates who. The third party leaves and the couple goes back to normal.  That’s the simple arithmetic.

A couple discusses at length that they’d to have a third party join them. Discreet being the optimal desire in order to experience this forbidden desire. That can be simple arithmetic. A couple discusses that instead we want this third person to be there for us…for us exclusively. Not necessarily live with them, but any and all sexual activity with them and them only. The arithmetic has just become complex. Instead of the third person leaving to go home after a fun romp naked in the bedroom, they will likely stay overnight, in bed with them. This ritual will be repeated many times. The couple is now polyamory. It takes a strong relationship. A mutual respect by all. Consentement.

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I was in a polyamorous relationship several years ago. I had many regrets, but not the regrets you may think. I wish I had done more, been more to each of them. She was a no nonsense woman who felt she needed to wield her sword at every turn. Yet in the bedroom she became submissive and yielding. I remember the first time we were together at their farm. No not that kind of farm, a very nice piece of land on an inlet to a massive bay body of water. There were several out structures with house as the focal point as you traveled the half mile drive way to the portico. We had dinner, laughed at each others jokes about various things. He was a stern man in public but in the privacy of his domain he was very jovial, had a wonder laugh and would often have tears in his eyes while telling a funny story relating to his former profession. I remember thinking how great it was that I was chosen out of who knows how many other women who had responded to their polygamous solicitation. After dinner and tiding the kitchen, we sat on the porch wrapped in light blankets. He broke the ice, got up from beside her, to sit beside me and asked if he could kiss me…french kiss me. I still throb between my legs when I think about that first kiss. I removed my blanket exposing more for him to enjoy. As he moved my t-shirt above my breast, he discovered I wasn’t wearing a bra. Instantly his cock got pressing his trouser like an animal wanting to escape. I could hear her moan like a cat in heat and I unzipped his trouser, cupped his cock in my hand, beginning to masturbate him. When I felt that tiny drip of clear liquid, I moved to cup his cock in my mouth, going up and down, deep into my throat. His moans were  unmistakeable. And I as I always do, get so wet and horny when I am sucking on hard cock…she came over, stood next to us. I slid my free hand into her slacks and found a moist haven of soft pussy lips…she removed my slacks and began slicking my clit, driving me in sane with desire to be fucked by his cock that was now fucking my mouth… It was a natural switch him on his back, she on his face, me sitting on that sweet hard cock… She later watch as he lubricated me for anal play. I licked her wet pussy while he entered my throbbing wanting rear. He finger fucked my wet pussy while he slid in out with ease in my rear. We showered together. Had a snack. Later that night, he watched as she I found immense pleasure in each other. We were together for a long time. Traveled together. Dinner with their friends, who were non the wiser. How or why it ended, I’ll keep as my secret.

I’ve had several relationships since the polyamory and now I have that door opened to me again. Two plus one can be complex. What would you do? Addie

 

 

addig.blog@gmail.com

I solemnly…sound mind & mature body

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I give a loud chuckle, as I begin to write. It’s been…what? At least a year that I’ve gone straight. Cold turkey. One solid year with one sex partner. I’m sorry, but about to find a bridge and jump!  Are we humans, according to the law of the land, supposedly have just one sex partner????  Seriously! What monk created the word monogamous. Surely his ink well ran dry, his quill unable to script it’s true meaning. Along come the old senior monk, penis dried up but ink well full, his quill adds “sex”.  I think the Europeans got it right. As did the Asians. Consorts, cortisanes, paramours, are what keeps them separate from Americans puritanical mind-sets.  Ménage trois, polygamous, not necessarily polygamy, have success when entered into with a strong consensus and openness. Sharing your prowess can be liberating.

I’m not wired to having the same kind of intercourse when he’s in the mood. Two men or a man and a woman adds so much dynamic complexity that is so simple and basic.  If man were meant to be one horse riders, strip joints, private sex clubs, prostitution, Ashley Madison, online sites geared to couple sharing would be dormant to the sounds of crickets.  If you’ve read my earlier blogs, my favorites are private, by invite only, social gatherings hosted by couples and some individuals at their residences.  I met my current, monogamous partner at such an event.  It was love at first site, but he’s not into sharing thus we’re in the “where do we go from here” mode.

I admit to my error. I thought I’d found the perfect mate. My like-minded guy, or so I was led to believe, who I was willing to spend the rest of my life with. I was distracted by the lifestyle: new expensive European sports car, the ring the size of Mt St Helene, private jet, locations…but the sex is ho-hum.  I’ve shown him some of the hottest women (okay the other guy thing I get-not wanting to share) in the US, France, Thailand, Scandinavia…nothing!  My thing with this is; you found this kitty at a couples swap party and now you want to deprive the kitty of it’s milk. I’m not a happy kitty in the bedroom.  I want us to share our tenacity for love and engage in happy healthy cunnilingus, fellatio, ménage a trois…

I’m back to my blog. Not a good sign. I solemnly do swear I am of sound mind & (matured) body.  I want to feel a woman’s lips on mine.

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Addie

Accepting De-Nile

 

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I’ve attempted to walk away from my site. A woman of a certain stature should put those carnal ways in a box, locked, on a high shelf. Create meaningful fantasies with her mate. Be content to satisfy only him.

I entered into what I thought I was supposed to be…a relationship, changing my social media status to “engaged”, almost married. I abandoned all those things of lustful joy, all those people I enjoyed being licentious with, my toys, my naughty outfits for those lascivious soirée, my best friend who enjoyed my salacious ways (especially the fellatio). Being pensive in bed because you certainly can’t show your finance all those exotic things you know.

Whom ever stated that the missionary position was boring, basic sex, should be amply rewarded. Ho-hum.

At this point I am seriously contemplating therapy…finding the simplest, less drama method of swimming out of De-Nile. I care, yes, very much. But I was clearly fooling myself by thinking he and I would create our own world of sexual erotica. He’s a dashing man, very well maintained, successful, a total package…well almost. His ideal woman is chaste, does those moderate things in the bedroom with the lights off. 

If you’re familiar with my blog, you’re surely scratching your head in wonderment right now, knowing full well that I love the act of sexual contact, the erotic nature of a man when his cock is throbbing, exposed to the openness of being engulfed by my mouth…being uninhabited by his penetration in my mouth and eventually my anus.

I suggested one evening while we were at dinner with a few of his business associates and their stodgy wives, leaning over to whisper in his ear what I would like to do when we returned to the hotel; a bottle of Cabinet Sauvignon, just us enjoying each other. I guess I wasn’t clear enough. He ordered the bottle, poured the wine, picked up the remote and found the late news. He climbed between the sheets watching and sipping. When his cock gained a rise, he stroked himself a few times, stuck his fingers in my cunt, made a comment of how wet I was and rolled on top, with a few down strokes, pulled out and flooded cum on my thigh, spilling onto the sheet. It’s my turn when he cums, using his cum to lubricate my vulva he finger fucks me, which makes him hard again, where he likes to maturbate while his fingers are in my pussy…cums on my thigh aging, rolls over a falls asleep.

Ho-hum.

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I have managed to satisfy myself but this makes me crave a hard cock to suck, lick and knead with my teeth. Going down on it, taking it all in my mouth, tickling my throats with the soft head, licking the balls making my pussy so wet… When I have my fresh Brazilian wax my vulva throbs for a tongue, my anus aches for hot cum to ooze out, meaning I am fulfilled and he is exhausted.

I want to be naughty with a man’s cock in my pussy and a woman sitting on my face. 

I need to be honest leave De-Nile, leave him and get back to my life. The hell with what I should be at the stage of life.

 

Addieg.blog@gmail.com

A hot shower & a cup of hot tea…Done!

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It’s been a sometimes fun but often grueling experience. I’m happy it’s over and hope not to travel this road ever again.

To my editors; You will have to provide me with a much larger incentive if you ever want this kind of information again.  I took many showers during these past several weeks and drank my share of vino just to get through it.      bottle-wine

 

For the love of what the fuck! Six months ago I agreed to enter into the world of online dating for the second time. It’s a jungle out there, a girl has to be smart and willing to take on another life, especially if it’s all fake for information purposes. The facts aren’t often pretty and these are no exception. I’ll randomly go through the last six months of the revolving door of men and women. Some info will be limited due to copy-rights and my editors blowing up regarding my blogging on the subject. It’s enough to share, enough to…well just read on-in no particular order.

I’ll begin with Ken (btw all names are fiction-yes they gave me actual names, phone numbers and much more)…Ken, the Scorpio, introverted, former NAVY, works as civil employee, lived in a moderate neighborhood, divorced, one child-freshmen year in college.  He liked to cook and it showed. Not very outdoorsy and it showed. Spent his weekends watching old movies that he’d seen a few times, liked to play board games. He came off as gruff, not a very happy person who wanted to get laid but didn’t want to put in the effort to accomplish this.  He wanted to exchange sexy emails with me doing all the sex talk.  When I called him out on meeting, after a few weeks of pulling sexy talk from him, he gave me the story that he’d had a bad experience and was hesitant about meeting. At which point he asked for more photos. Seriously? I’ve sent you 3 and now you want more?  Oh and if I could send a nude one he’d like that.

A shower and a bottle of wine cleansed me from this lazy jerk, who I suspect was jerking off to the photos and the emails. He was cut off…spam.

Meanwhile, back at rancho online creep-o!  There was grandpa, the Leo. He had no online photo, came off like this sweet, subservient guy who only wanted to please. It was “dear” this “dear” that and whatever pleases you dear, oh I’m sorry dear, was I being, too forward dear, whatever you say dear…I’m suck a dumbass dear, I should have known better, I hope I haven’t blown it with you. This was Don. Supposedly a professional guy with an office, married but not getting any-had not had any in a very long time. He begged for a photo for about 10 days, when he finally got the message that I wasn’t sending jack shit until I got one from him, he sends a photo of him sitting in a lawn chair with a 6-year-old on his lap (his grandson).  WTF!  What kind of man sends a prospective piece of ass a photo of his grandchild?  Was this for browny points? Or was it to cover the belly and the dick-dew?  He begged for my phone number so he could text. Okay, here you go, here’s my burner.  And then it was a constant barrage of sexting all day through early evening then a pause and would start-up again around 10 and last until midnight.  The pause was when he was home and the wifey-poo was up, but as soon as she’d gone to bed he’d start again.  I finally laid down the law, the day I was in some very important meetings and had to turn my phone off because he was sexting every 30 minutes.  The day I met him, he almost stained his trousers. He even wanted some PDA, that I squashed!!  Seriously?  You think I’m going to make out with you right here in the middle of a parking lot?  And please don’t follow me, I’m not, too keen on you seeing what I drive…to which I walked him to his car, saw him off before heading to the steps to my vehicle 2 levels above (where I parked purposefully).

Don’s admission that his big office was actually a suite in a not so nice part of town, having just purchased a new sofa for his “office”, wanted me to stop by his new office…WAIT! NEW OFFICE?  So, this location you’ve just moved in to? And your assistant is actually your wife, who works there on the weekends? Oh, I see! The only time you can get away is during the day? Evenings are tough to get out, but if I don’t want to have sexy time in his “office” we can go to his house, his wife is a ride share, once she leaves for work (25 plus mile away) she’s gone for the day. NO. NO thanks. No not going to your wife’s house to have sex with you!

Meanwhile. The college professor who was actually an instructor, he and the wife enjoyed playtime a few of the local clubs that hosted gatherings for couples swapping. They sent numerous photos of her in flimsy lingerie. He was contact person, never heard from her and all he wanted to tell me about was what he had.  Hmmmm! No thanks! When I asked him about his wife, if she and I could exchange communications, I was promptly told that he did the talking for both of them. Okay…

Then there was Greg. Older fella. Said he was a retired consultant. Sent me two photos that were either several years old or they were photo-shopped from a magazine. In one he’s wearing a tux holding a highball glass, not looking into the camera, the other the man is wearing a very nice custom grey suit standing in front of a grey Porsche that has a Delta emblem on it…which is on the tarmac. When I saw this photo I took another look at the first one…something wasn’t fitting, just looked, too perfect.  I called him out on the photos but not to my surprise did he acknowledge or deny-completely ignore my query. And again, he could only get away during the day, he worked from home, when he wasn’t traveling of course, nights and weekends were tough to get away. I set a meet, waited until the morning of and gave him an out. He jumped on it and has later asked if we could really get together?  His take was meet during the day, have wine and then sex.  Ha, ha, ha, ha!!!  LMAO!  I questioned him; So, you can’t get out at night or weekends, you travel to all these places, stay in these 5 star hotels, yet you want me to meet you during the day, drink wine – have sex…and it’s okay for you to go home reeking of wine and stale pussy?  He didn’t respond to that query either.  I concluded that Greg was lying and probably retired, bored sitting home watch game shows and cop repeats.

The one thing they all had in common. Once I mentioned I like giving head, they were all in! Would do whatever it took to get me in a room, an office, a car, behind a bar…I guess older guys or any guy for that matter doesn’t get much head from the wifey-poo! I don’t get that. Why women don’t give their husbands head!!!

And lastly. I mentioned several weeks ago that there was one guy who was slicker than grease. I came off like the discard women, who’d been wronged.  Well, actually no, I wasn’t. This guy, was a smartass, or at least he thought he was.  Sent photos that I, once suspect were old photos and he was much older than he claimed. It was something he responded to that brought this to light and from that it was decided that I would take this route. In his arrogance, he admitted to knowing my identity, my blog, my overseas column.  He’d taken the time to “look me up” in a detailed way.  He’s also, my opinion somewhat of a racist and I don’t use that word often or lightly.  He, as we suspected could have been dangerous and we decided to do something about it.  A dual online profile, using a photo from a shoot that we had permission to use and dangled the cord by putting in all the key words that would get his attention. POP! He did, as he followed the same pattern of photos that he’d sent me originally and asking for my number to text. I took on an entirely different persona and he bought it.  He wanted to meet, was coming to town (we suspect he lived in town), dinner (it always had to be at a nice place), I told what I would be wearing, he told me what he’d be wearing. WE went sat in the parking lot and sure enough there he was…just as I had suspected!  Of course Morgan didn’t show. He texted many times, even wondered if she was okay. His final text was sad, regretful and he sent an empty email to see if the email was still there. The profile on the site was remove 15 minutes prior to the meeting time. Karma is a bitch Bugsy. Fire hot! Burn!

Most men on sites want a little excitement in their lives. I get that. Most of the married women on the sites are seeking the same. Gents, if she’s not your cup of tea, move the fuck on…there are, too many women in the fish bowl to play games. Wives, give your man a blow job! You don’t have to swallow!

cock

Shower and a hot cup of tea for me!

cup-of-tea

Thank you loyal readers.

addieg.blog@gmail.com

 

A quick snapshot

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I’ve been asked by many, what I do? I write for a publishing house who wouldn’t want me to divulge their brand.  My blog began as a way of self expression, later morphing into a combination of readers who write to me and my experiences. I’ve written many articles that are  proof read by editors and their assistants, thus my blogs contains errors galore, but I think that gives it a homey, believable feel.  I’m currently working on a novel. Because of your inquires I’ve decided to share one snippet with you. I’ve chosen this page because…well I’ll let you see for yourself.  I’ll be back in a few with more adventures from the world of internet dalliances, fornication and hookups (fall has been fruitful).  Until then enjoy the snippet…

The cool air moving across Amanda’s face was a welcomed relief, compared to the sweat rolling down her arms. She pedaled at moderate pace, with slow deliberate breaths. The path was dimly lit, flat and smooth, against the dark back drop of the park. The tall trees were a canopy, shielding the night sky. She made good time creating distance between her and the house she fled. She pedaled faster.

She attempted to adjust her ball cap. The bike began to wobble as she realized her hands, her legs were trembling and her heart was pounding loudly in her ears. With a deep breath Amanda steadied herself, adjusted the cap tighter. With more control she pedaled forward.

Amanda dared not look behind her fearing she would slow her progress. Just ahead she could see the red glow as it came into view. The first of three traffic signals. Not wanting to decrease her speed, she willed the light to turn green as she drew closer to the intersection. Just as she began to coast, the light signaled green, as she glided effortlessly across the brightly lit intersection that was miraculously void of vehicles.
The bike path took a western route, Amanda veered north, deciding the confines of the sidewalk would be better than the street, using the parked cars as a buffer to any oncoming traffic. It slowed her pace a little. The black hat, jacket and pants made her almost invisible to the traffic on the street, as she calmly breezed through intersections two and three.

Eager to proceed to her next phase. Hopping off the bike at a running pace, she quickly steered it into the tall bushes of an abandon house. Behind the over grown thicket of brush laid her backpack. She quickly began to strip, putting each article of clothing, and shoes, in a separate plastic bag, she had retrieved from the pack. Standing naked and cold, she removed the gun from the pouch on the bike, put it in a cloth bag and the pouch in a plastic bag. Finally removing her leather gloves, carefully folding them inside out, adding them to the plastic bag with the pouch. Taking fresh garments from the backpack, she checked the watched in her pants pocket. She would need to move quickly to discard the bags before boarding the bus back to the city.      ©️ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

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Addie