Warning Signs - Top 10

Two warnings off the bat. A) This post is a little bit longer than normal, and B) this post starts off with a negative tone but life is good so don't worry about me. :-) Surely everyone can relate to some of this stuff.

Signs that your spouse isn't that into you anymore:

1. When you try to give her a kiss she ever so slightly moves her lips away and gives you something closer to her cheek.
2. When you ask her to have sex she expects you to be hard, at full attention without having given you any stimulus to get that way. Translation = seduce yourself.
3. When you're not rock hard come sexy time, she's not happy with you. Foreplay is long gone. Daily affection has whithered away. "Hey if you want a hug, you have to ask me for one. I don't know when you want one."
4. She'd rather give you a hand-job than let you pound her, and not just occasionally but most of the time.
5. She'd rather make out with the "local" boy at the bar then fuck the shit out of you on a vacation to Baja Mexico when that trip was really supposed to be about the two of you "re-connecting".
6. She's more into women than you. Although that started off as something really kinky.
7. Sex is not fun anymore. There's no smiles, there's nothing happy about it. It appears to be more of a duty than a wild, reckless, passionate romp.
8. When you notice that she's giving you a blow job but really thinking about something else and wondering when you're gonna get through with it.
9. When she has no idea how sex, within a committed monogamous relationship was a means for how I connected with her. Like no comprehension.
10. When it's your b-day and you look over at her and talk about b-day sex and she says "yes, I'd like to have that, I'd like to do that for you, but first we need to talk, we need to connect more emotionally before I can do that. I can't have sex when we're not emotionally connected." So we talk for an hour, it's getting late, I'm late for work, and after going through that exercise with her, still no b-day sex. So yea #10 = no b-day sex.

#10 Reminds me of the largest circular problem in my marriage when we were still together. That problem was that she needed me to be "connected" to her, to her needs, to her world, for her to want to have sex with me. I needed her to have sex with me so that I could be connected to her, and want to listen to her. After sex I loved this woman even more than ever. The act itself made me feel more bonded with her. Visualize that circular diagram. We went round and round and usually ended up nowhere, meaning I could only give so much to maintain that emotional thing she needed and it usually wasn't enough for her to want to have sex.

Ironically as soon as our marriage opened up she could/would start having sex with guys to which she had very little attachment to. I asked her to explain that and the bullshit answer isn't even worth sharing here.

Please understand that I am not bitter anymore. I don't hate this woman. I can even look at her in the arms of another man and think good thoughts about her (this happened yesterday). Our relationship physically had just expired like some bad milk. Perhaps I am fully comfortable with her in another mans arms because I am free from all of those above things that haunted me, or maybe because I know that he now must deal with the drama and the personality that I have come to disengage with over the past two years. I am free from having to try to maintain that intense emotional connection she needed, free from having to wonder if we will ever have good sex again because we won't. I swear there were times where she simply needed a girlfriend and used me as a substitute. I am a good listener, but fuck there has to be a payoff in the end and when that payoff, which included sex, started to whither away, I realized that this was no longer a warning sign, it was the end.

Would I ever get married again? No way. I think the ideal relationship/lover is someone who you see two or three times a week, spending as much as 24 hours or even 48 hours together, or as little as 30 minutes, going back to your separate worlds but still keeping a good loving connection between the two of you when you're not seeing each other. Hell, I can't even imagine wanting to live with a woman right now. What I dream about is something simple, something like sitting on a back porch sharing the moonlight, holding hands, drinking a glass of wine, making out, and fucking till midnight. Yes, a little romance, yes, a lot of fucking, but at the end of the day, one of us goes back home.

Oh, and I'll never ever share a bathroom with my lover. Never. I think that kills things too. And please don't share things with me that happened in the bathroom. Wifey always loved to do that, and it's disgusting. I never wanted to hear about your bowel problems or triumphs.

* Btw, the link I shared for Cabo Surf Hotel is where we stayed and in spite of the issues we had at that time, that place was the best surfing I ever experienced. If the right woman comes along, I'll take her and fuck the shit out of her there. I need a re-do. Any volunteers?

Curiosity Rules the Day

It was our first night together, our first moments away from the crowd, away from the party. We'd spent a while trying to find a room and finally found someplace suitable to fall into each other. We kissed and sucked on each others lips. I unlatched her bra and buried my face in her beautiful breasts and perfect nipples. This was a passionate foreplay session. Everything was off except my grey boxer briefs. Her panties never came off either. My cock was ready to explode, yet she did not indulge it. We just didn't go there, and I was fine with that. For two hours we made out like high school kids who were under strict orders not to have sex. It actually reminded me of the kind of makeout - teasing - foreplay I used to do in high school. I was fucking great at it then, and I think I still am. I know she was.

This past weekend we took some time to finally talk and get to know each other. We went to a sporting event, sipped champagne, and ate cheese. I found out a lot of things about tallchick that I hadn't know and that I wanted to know. For starters she is just 5'8" even though I thought she was taller. Maybe its the 2" inch heals that she's always wearing. We had a definite getting to know each other day together. Later we shared dinner, and we capped the night off with a beautiful conversation on the beach, with a bright moonlight and the crashing waves just feet from our toes.

I dropped her off and kissed her goodnight, thinking about her body, wondering how it will be, wondering how the rest of her tastes, wondering how our first time together will be like. The anticipation of our first fuck is exciting and mysterious. How will it go? When will it happen? Where will it happen? So many questions . . .

HBI - Hot Blogger Island

I have a vivid imagination, and as it turns out so do many of the lovely blogger ladies out there too. Why not? I mean, this is the place that many of us fantasize, flirt, and lust. Many of you, my hot blogstresses, are consummate flirts here and say things you wouldn't otherwise say or verbalize in the real world. Yes, the virtual world has its advantages and I must say that I enjoy the fruits of your anonymity. And by fruits I mean, the naughty shit you tell me. Yep, give it to me. As Madonna so rightfully sang recently:

Got no boundaries and no limits
If there's excitement, put me in it
If it's against the law, arrest me
If you can handle it, undress me

Don't stop me now, don't need to catch my breath
I can go on and on and on
When the lights go down and there's no one left
I can go on and on and on

Give it to me, yeah
No one's gonna show me how
Give it to me, yeah
No one's gonna stop me now

I digressed a bit, but fuck, Madonna, how do you do it after all these years?

Anyways, let me get to the point of this post. I call it Hot Blogger Island HBI. I propose a safe place to take virtual into reality. Yep, its another fantasy, but it involves all of you out there who make me so fucking happy, and who have fulfilled my life in a new way that I didn't think possible.

HBI exists somewhere in my imagination between American health standards, Caribbean tranquility, and Vietnamese tropical exoticism. There's a warm tropical breeze all day and night, just enough to cool the sweat from the hot sun. Yes, the weather is amazing . . . perfect. It's hot, but we have showers placed within every 20 sq feet of the island so you can cool off, clean up, get the sand off, and be ready for your next adventure.

There's plenty of activities to do on this island but before we talk about them I have to focus on the main purpose of HBI. HBI is where we can live our fantasies. It's a safe place to indulge your sexual appetites, to send those neurons firing toward the hypothalamus. Whatever your fantasies are, come to the island, and live it. Have it. Maybe it involves seduction, or a romantic hike through a rain forest that ends at a "screensaver" type waterfall. Yep, the water is warm in these parts, I think its about 80 degrees. Get undressed and swim naked. Not half-nekkid, but completely let yourself go. This is the place for that. You are beautiful here, and never question yourself or doubt your looks. Your confidence here is unlike it has ever been anywhere else. You are truly beautiful.

HBI is a place for fucking. It smells like ocean, sand, and fuck. The smell of hot sex permeates the grounds. This island is designated an 'All Fuck Zone'. Even the monkeys and rabbits are jealous. But that's the only case where jealousy is accepted or tolerated. Bring your husbands ladies, or your boyfriends, or your Jude Laws, George Clooney's, but leave the ones at home that get jealous or possessive. Or just come by yourself, because that works for me too. This is a place where sex is exchanged around the clock and everyone, everyone in my community is happily actively sharing. Share yourself, your body, your gorgeous parts, those eyes, that luscious ass, those perfect arms, and that ever so willing cunt with me. Give it to me. You will be so happy that you came here. I will take care of you. No need will go unmet. Do you need your clit licked while I plunge a vibrator toy into you? Do you need this for 2.5 hours? I'm happy to oblige.

Fucking for 24-7-365 is not literally possible from the last time I checked Guinness Book of World Records, so we have other activities to do while we recharge those triple X batteries. There's hot stone massage, Swedish, aromatherapy, and Shiatsu. We have sports of all sorts, including volleyball, tennis, snorkeling, scuba, and surfing. We even have a nice gym with whatever class is currently tickling your fancy here at home. There exists the finest foods and chefs on this island. Every aspect of human hedonism is embraced. We eat, drink, sleep, and fuck, all of that in reverse order. There will be occasions to get very dressed up so bring your best dresses and hottest shoes. I happen to like the Jimmy Choo line myself. There will be dancing and loud music as well. Yes, I can cut it up on the dance floor. Can you?

Ladies, I know what you're thinking, you're thinking this sounds perfect, that being on this island with Dewey sounds wonderful, but what about . . . what about . . . shopping? 'I still need to shop'. I've got that covered too. There's a bridge, about 30 minutes long that takes you back into the malls, the Macy's, the Nordies, the Bloomingdale's, but, sorry Wal-Mart isn't one of them. You can even meet up with your unwilling, inhibited girlfriends for some social time, since you all seem to need that, but please don't be gone for too long. I'm already missing those nice breasts, the great conversation, and that smile of yours with those very round cheeks that melts me. Honey, you know who you are, so get back here to my hut ASAP.

This is the tricky part here. Who's invited? I would like to open the invitation to everyone that has flirted with me, complimented me, commented on me, texted me, or connected with me on some level. I adore you ladies, and yes, some of you I hope to remain friends with forever. If we just recently met on-line, chances are I don't have a hut with your name on it, but never fear, we can always build a bigger island. And yes, I do have room for a couple of men, but sorry guys you'll have to sleep out in the life boats because we're running out of room. Yes Riff Dog, I'm talking to you.

Here's a napkin drawing of the island, with some of the amenities. You'll need to click on it to see the details. Please feel free to add input as you deem necessary. This is a work in progress. By the time its ready to go to the planning commission I hope that everyone has participated in its evolution. It's my "happy place". Oh, did I tell you that I have a big imagination?

20 Year Wait

Two versions - Short and a Long for those who give a shit about the 'fucking' details.

Short Version:
I met a woman whom I've had a crush on for 20 years. She was the high school beauty queen. The first time I ever saw her I imagined fucking this woman because that's what I do. Maybe The Secret does work? It just took a long time, but she rewarded me in such a way that I couldn't have even comprehended how fucking amazing a night with her would be like as a horny teenager.


Long Version:
Are some things worth waiting 20 years for? I say yes, and this past weekend was a confirmation of that. Dewey is a very very happy camper. Happy isn't even the right adjective. I've been describing recently some of the things that I wanted, and missed. If you're a regular follower then you know that I'm talking about missing some romance, passion, and seduction. You've known that I wanted to be with a woman where I could have all the time that I wanted, where I could leave my mark(s), and not worry about getting her into trouble. And finally I've missed having a hard pounding fuck for some time. It's just been a while. Thank geebus for Saturday night and loosely organized re-unions.

I spotted her in the crowd and immediately walked up to her. It was the first time we had officially met although we've been friends on FB for about 4 months (yes, I stalked her). This was someone I wanted to meet, to know, to fuck, from the moment I saw her in high school 20 years ago. We never talked back then, I just lusted her from a distance. I'll never forget the first time I saw her. She was quite literally the hottest girl in my school. Her eyes were magical, almost unreal. They have this reptilian quality about them and I found myself trying hard not to stare at them out of sheer enjoyment for their mesmerizing qualities. So yes, awestruck by her feminine power nearly 20 years ago, and remembering vividly one afternoon of working out in the gym, where she I and were the only two people doing stairs and thinking how badly I wanted to fuck her. That was the start of a 20 year crush.

I walk up to her, we hug, we laugh, we drink, we dance, we talk, we eat, and we have a great night together. We moved to another location where we repeated all the above over again, and yet this time there was more flirting, there was touching, and hand holding. Yes, I was tripping over the fact that I was standing there with her holding hands while the bars were closing and the moon light was just right. She's sitting on the outside elevated patio where we start to kiss and just take each others mouths in. Oh, how she tasted. I couldn't close my eyes because I loved her face. You know that feeling when someone is so attractive and you can't take your eyes off of them and you can't stop asking yourself 'Is this really happening? Did I just win some high school lotto?'

We go back to my office, where I slowly undress her and kiss every inch of this goddess. It's a perfect mood light inside and my mood is grateful and horny. I'm keen on good lighting. Not too much, yet not too little, and the way the light shined off of her stomach, the way it left just the right shadows on her face was driving me crazy. She's standing with her back against the wall, and I'm on my knees moving her panties aside with my fingers and kissing her loveliness. I've got them all the way off now and my tongue is inside of her. It's a perfect taste.

The temperature is just right, the music is playing, and she undresses me. Yes, it's my office. Yes, its private, its where I am typing this post from as we speak, and where I can still picture her body laid out on my desk, legs spread apart, inviting me to indulge myself in a 20 year fantasy. My desk then becomes the abused. Shit is flying everywhere, calculators, speakers, remote controls, papers, files, and finally the monitor, all of just flying off as I do my Dewey thing, my duty. It's loud, its, sweaty, its skin, its pounding, its fucktacular. I stop to take my breathe, to lick her perfect pussy and to relish in this moment. Yes, its a great moment in fuck history and I'm glad I was there, but more importantly I am glad for every moment that led up to this. It was a night of seduction, of eyes connecting, of constant laughter and that rare human bond. Yes, I felt so very alive, so very happy.

I had all the time I wanted with her. There was no curfew, and no husband anywhere to speak of. I left a few slight marks on her, and I prayed that she would be alright with that. She didn't complain. We left after a while, holding hands, not talking about anything, but just enjoying the silence. She's gone now, left back to the state where she lives. I wonder what she's thinking. I wonder if I'll ever see her again. For now, I'm just going to lean over and enjoy her beautiful scent she left on my desk and hope the cleaning crew doesn't touch it for a little while.

It still smells like a 20 year wait should . . . perfect.

Romancing the Dewey

I miss something. I miss romance. It can take so many forms. The last time I tasted it was New Years Eve 2008. I went to a party and I knew that my girlfriend at the time would be there, and that I had to find her in this fucking huge mansion. Walking through the maze of halls and stairs, I finally found Miss Korea. South Korea to be exact. She was such an interesting woman - the artistic kind with head shaved, a beautiful smile, and a nice body. She was great in bed, but outside of the bedroom I found that it was difficult to connect with her.

I see her in a hallway, dressed in a beautiful red dress, but she looked at me almost like she was pissed about something, and as I approached her she pulls me into her and lays an enormous kiss on me. She was sincerely seducing me at that moment. It was a great beginning to a very romantic, elegant night. Perhaps the last time I felt very sincere romance. We danced, partied with friends, drank some alcohol, and kissed all night long. We ended the night in her bedroom and I felt like it really was a romantic moment. I enjoy that, the getting dressed up, the seduction, the sincere passion. Why is that so hard to find now? It's not on Craigslist and its not on Ashley Madison, nor is it with my wife. Yes, I enjoy sex, but I miss the romance.