Friday, March 16, 2018

Bucket List: Another One Done...

My young couple met me at the end of a gravel road a few feet from a creek that was hidden by brush and tall grass.  We parked side by side on the slight incline and they exited their car and casually climbed into the spacious back seat of my truck.  Any apprehension they had experienced the first few times has long since passed.  I had unbuckled my seat belt and scooted my body in the driver's seat to face them as best I could.  While it seems like an awkward way to hold a conversation, it is the norm for us.

The husband is so much like me, immediately eager to show me a picture on his phone.  It is his smoking hot young wife riding the cock of her boyfriend.  The picture was taken just a few hours earlier.  I learn that she has been fucked three times today, once by the boyfriend and twice by the husband. 

She looks at me and smiles, nodding that yes, he isn’t making it up.  And I have no reason to question anything they tell me because this connection between the three of us has turned into an interesting friendship. 

I really do admire these people.  They are doing things right. They are open and honest with one another.  They tell me about a situation where she feels uncomfortable with a woman chatting with her husband but then explains why.  "She wants him to meet her alone, without me, and that's just not our thing." 

It is obvious, these two have talked; they have a code, they understand a moral line that neither will cross.  And if either gets close to the line, they talk about it and work out the way ahead.  "Why would I want to fuck [this other lady] when she doesn't want to play by our rules?" he asks.

As we talk, they hold hands and they mean it.  It might be a natural, muscle memory reaction that causes them to reach for one another but I glance down at their hands and I can see that these two like each other and and they love each other. 

He refers to her as his everything.  She is his queen. And the queen can fuck whoever she wants.  For a moment, as they talk about their relationship, I wonder if I might make her cut someday, though frankly, it’s not something I’ll push. 

At some point they stop holding hands and instead she is rubbing his cock through his jeans. 

I joke about it, the fact that these two fuck more than anyone I’ve ever known.  They fuck several time a day, every day.  They tag team in telling the story of that one time they had to go for a full day and a half without fucking.  It is humorous to me, considering my wife and I haven't had sex in two weeks.

I actually like these people.  As in, I'd like to hang out with them, drink a few beers and talk about families and life and such.  But today, we are here in this place for something different, and frankly, the clock is ticking.  We've been chit-chatting for over fifteen minutes and we all know the visit can't be a lot longer. I need to be on my way and they need to be on their way.

I look directly in her eyes, at that beautiful face and softly asked, “Would you like to watch me blow your husband?” 

She smiles and suddenly turns shy. I’m still looking in her eyes when she nods yes. 

In a second I've jumped out of the drivers seat and opened the back door.  By now, the husband has his erect, uncut cock exposed and I reach across the seat and take hold of him.  Now that I've experienced the joy of cock sucking more often, there is no hesitation on my part to grab the cock or to take it fully in my mouth.  I've been meeting with this couple for a while, and I've been waiting for this moment to finally happen.

The way my truck is parked on a slight incline, and the fact that it is a 4 x 4, I have to lift up on my toes to keep my mouth around his cock.  For a brief moment, I consider my slacks and the fact that I'm leaning against the step-bar on the truck. I'm sure they'll be fine.

I inhaled the scent of his very closely shaved pubic hair for remnants of his wife’s juices.  Having smelled her panties previously, I know that she smells nice. There is no musky smell, just the scent of a man's cock and balls. 

As I fondle his balls and enjoy the feel of his dick in my mouth, I look up to see these two making out like teenagers.  She is whispering encouragement as he softly moans.  About three minutes into it, he does something I never expected.  His hand finds the back of my head and like some porn flick, he guides my head up and down on his shaft. 

In my mind, this is an asshole move, but then it occurs to me that I can easily accommodate his length and girth.  Like me, he is not more than about six inches, and there is no worry about gagging.   I actually enjoy this act knowing his wife is watching us.  Me, dressed in my slacks, button down shirt and tie, blowing a young man in his jeans and t-shirt while his wife in form fitting yoga pants watches.  His hand releases my head and I lift my mouth off his cock long enough to look up at the wife.  Our eyes meet for a second before she turns back to him and I return to my pleasure.

I’m stroking his cock to gauge his place in the process and then back to work.  Mentally, this is either going to happen soon or not at all. 

Proof that we live in the real world, his phone buzzes and the wife tells him it is his brother.  I continue sucking him as he tells her to send a text saying they will be back soon.

I double down, stroking the balls at the base, darting towards the taint.  I can feel his ass begin to lift off the seat and I hear the wife whisper, “Come for me, baby. “

I feel his rock hard cock spasm as he moans louder.  I briefly worry about the potential load being too much, and the fact I’m still wearing my dress shirt and tie.  No matter how much, I vow to myself to swallow every last drop and not risk a splotch of spunk on my shirt or beautiful paisley tie. 

In a second I taste that distinctive flavor of a man's cum.   I savor the moment of his pulsating shaft and the release, then feel his body relax, slumping in the backseat of my truck.  The wife kisses him passionately and then asks him if he is okay. 

I lift myself up as a sticky mixture of spit forms a brief line between my mouth and the head of his penis.  It slingshots back to his cock and I watch him begin to wilt. As I straightened my tie I announced that they had helped me fulfill a bucket list item. 

“This is the first time I’ve blown a guy in front of his wife.  Was it good for you?”

The wife high-fives me and we all laughed.  It only takes a moment before they scoot out of my back seat and apologize for having to get back to the house.  We both head away from this little hidden area down an old gravel road, just a brief stop on my way home from work.

Saturday, March 10, 2018

Weekend Report: Blah...

This has been a really weird week.  I’ve posted a few re-posts  just because I’ve been struggling with the occasional writers block that comes up.  I do appreciate the comments, by the way,

Oh, I have plenty to write about, but when I sit down I just lose that urge.  So as I sit in the parking lot of a tire change shop, waiting my turn to have them change my oil, I’m going to jot down a few notes.

I guess the first thing I should explain is why I get my oil changed at the tire shop.  In San Antonio you can’t go five miles on the south or west sides of town without passing these brightly painted yellow shops that will fix a flat for $3.  Well, if these guys will fix a flat for three bucks, you know they will change your oil for a few more dollars.  So, I go to the auto parts store and buy the oil I like and a filter, stop at the tire shop and give the guy a twenty, and we are done.

You recall the Intern. Several of you expected her to be the one that got me tossed into jail.  She is no longer an intern but her and her hubby came by last weekend and we had a few drinks.  Yea, that’s an understatement.  We had a great time. Her and her hubs are great folks and I like that she is cool to flirt but is totally not open to me fucking her.

That’s important because once I know that I have zero chance with getting in a lady’s pants, I feel free to be myself and still flirt.

So as we finished a bottle of some drink I wouldn’t normaly drink, my wife wanted to take pictures of us together.  Me and the intern.  The intern and me.

We posed together.  Her arm was around my waist.  My hand was on her ass.  I gave her a squeeze and she giggled.

We posed more but our arms were over each other’s shoulders.  Those were the pics that made my wife’s FB page.

Later, my wife said, “It doesn’t matter to me but did you grab her ass?”

Of course I lied.

She knows I lied and I know I lied. And I know she knows I lied.  Because I know she mentioned the whole thing to her boyfriend, JD.

My thought process is this.  When it comes to me and my “stuff”, she has said she doesn’t want to know.  Strictly don’t ask, don’t tell.  So in this case, I should have immediately said, yep, grabbed a chunk of that ass for the picture and been done with it.  But I’m so stuck on not telling that I was caught off guard by her asking.  Still, this is my wrong and I have to eventually own up to it, which I did.

The next day I sent a note to the intern and thanked her for coming by then apologized for grabbing her ass.  She told me she was good with it and not to give it another thought.  She also reminded me that if she had been upset about it, I’d be nursing a black eye.  She wasn’t kidding.

But playing assgrabber isn’t the only issue this week.

Last Friday I fucked up for real.  I meant to suggest to my wife that we engage in lovemaking before we go out to the hot tub.  What I actually said instead was, “Do you want to get it over with now.” 

Yea, I’m a total fuck up.

It’s the following Friday afternoon as I write this (from the tire shop) and we still haven’t had sex.

I should point out that I finished my business at the tire shop and we are now fast forwarding to dinner. 

 I got home from the tire shop and took my wife out for dinner, I mentioned that I told the Intern that my wife accused me of grabbing her ass.

“You did grab my ass you asshole!”

Of course I did, said myself as Harvey Weinstein, that sick fuck.

“But it’s cool.  You can grab my ass.”

But instead I just told my wife that she did tell me I was an asshole and I did grab her ass.

My wife laughed at me for trying to act like I was clueless that I grabbed the Intern’s ass but she was happy to believe the Intern was oblivious to it at the time.

People, this is why fucked up men like me get away with sexual harassment. I’m just saying. Even if I only do it to women who are cool with it, and I seem to have a way of sensing that, I need to cut it out.  Granted, I don't like the current state of every single act is some form of micro-aggression and we put simple jerks on the same level as actual rapists, but yea, that whole grabbing of the ass was not a normal thing I do, and I don't need to be doing it any more.

So my wife and I get home and get in the hot tub.  She was clearly in a better mood now that the ass grabbing incident was behind us.  But there was still the matter of the unfortunate wording I used the last Friday.  You know, the part about getting it over with.  And I'll save everyone some reading - no, we didn't have sex Friday night.

The weird thing is, I've been amped up all week.  I've had three failed attempts at meeting with the young couple I've been seeing. The issue is, my availability is only good if I leave work a little early.  They on the other hand have to be available and be sure they have someone to watch kids.  In each case either I got delayed at work or they had an issue that prevented them from meeting.  But we all understand and there are no hurt feelings.

I sent the husband a link to a page on Tumbler, the girls of Walmart or something. From this, we concluded that it would be hot to have us meet at Walmart and have her flash me.  I'm game.  But we just haven't had a time to do it.

Anyway - back to the matter at hand.  We'll see if I can work my way back into my wife's good graces.  I'm not going to lie, yes, I can be a real jerk but the truth is, my wife can be a real bitch.  (I can see Aunt Clara nodding her head in agreement).  We deserve each other.

Tuesday, March 6, 2018

Repost - Memory Lane: Handjob...

Note:  I originally posted this in October of 2016.  

One of the software developers that works for me is a guy that served in the military with me back in the 1990's.  We've always gotten along well and even though I don't see him socially or even see him every day at work, we will stop and chat about the good ole days from time to time.  He had been out of the office between contracts for a while (a sad fact of life as a defense contractor), and stopped by my desk to tell me he was back at work.

I commented on the fact that his beard had gotten quite a bit fuller since the last time I saw him.  Honestly, he looked like a homeless guy.  he laughed and told me that his wife hasn't made him clean-up his act.  I said, almost under my breath, "It's so hairy it makes me want to slip my penis in there." 

He giggled and said, "Wouldn't that be fun?"

I quickly moved on to a work related topic and poked around in my computer looking for an old e-mail but then started laughing.  I looked up at him and he was laughing too.  "You know what I was thinking about?" I asked.

"Oh, I know exactly what you are thinking about." he responded.

Just then a few people walked by and that was the end of our conversation.  He had to get back to his desk and get to work.

At some point back when we were both still in uniform, back during don't ask don't tell; before even a handful of people knew my secret of being Bi, this guy and I were working in an office alone one day and we were just goofing off and cutting up while working.  The exact moment is a little fuzzy but for some reason I suggested that we show each other our wieners.  "You first." he demanded.

Without the slightest hesitation I pulled my dick out and was immediately hard.

"Oh! Well there it is." he stared at my dick and without asking reached out and stroked me for less than ten seconds.

"Show me!" I begged.

He reached into his BDU pants and fished out his dick which was semi erect and about the same size as mine.  He sort of wagged it around to show off.  I recall that his dick had scrapes on it as if he had engaged in an hour of self abuse using sandpaper but he assured me it was due to a weekend of banging the shit out of his much younger wife all weekend.  At that time, he was probably twenty-five and she was maybe nineteen.

We shoved our collective wieners back in our uniforms and continue the work we were supposed to be doing.  Over the years, we have always made jokingly gay remarks to one another.  I've never come out to him but on more than one occasion I've weaved the fact of watching gay porn into a conversation, just as a joke.

Anyway, perhaps I should ask him if he'd like to finish that handjob he started.

Sunday, March 4, 2018

Silver Haired Lady...

Note:  I originally posted this in August of 2015.  I have at least a hundred older posts that were  removed during my hiatus and I just haven't found time or felt the need to re-post them.  Anyway, I was looking through some of these older ones and it made me laugh at myself.  First, the reblog about the older silver haired lady.  Then, a more recent draft that I hadn't bothered posting.

We stopped into a small taco shop for breakfast on Sunday morning.  Nice place, always busy but they are quick, good and inexpensive.  As the waitress was taking our order I noticed an older couple sit down at a booth.  He was easily in his seventies, she looked much younger but had to be in her early sixties.

As I am prone to do, I made my occasional looks around the dining area just to see the people.  I found myself drawn to the booth where the older couple sat.  Her legs looked to be in great shape and the short skirt she was wearing was riding up enough to reveal quite a bit of thigh.  I must have gawked a little to long because when I looked up to her face, there was immediate eye contact.

I smiled and she quickly adjusted herself to pull the skirt down enough for modesty.  She crossed her legs eliminating any chance that I might see further up the skirt.  I know, that probably sounds a little odd that I'd find interest in such a woman, but if you had seen how beautiful and well maintained she was.  She had that long silver hair that a lot of the women out in the country sport.  You just know she looks good in a cowboy hat and a pair of jeans, sporting well worn boots and a top that reveals cleavage.

We made direct eye contact several more times and each time I smiled briefly before continuing to eat my breakfast or scan the crowd for other interesting people.

When I was paying the bill at the register I looked to my left and noticed that the lady with silver hair and her old, old husband stood in line beside me.  The cashier handed me my change and I thanked her, then looked at the silver haired lady and bid her a nice day.  She smiled at me and with a gentle country drawl said, "You, too, darlin'."

And this is why my Tumblr seems to have so many pages with older gals.

Now: Something I had been journaling.  What a difference a few years make.

In the post that follows I discuss my interest and turn on of women from places like India, Pakistan,  and other "brown" people.  So if that isn't your thing, feel free to skip.

I can say that I've always felt an interest in women of different ethnicity than the white, blonde haired blue eyed women I grew up around.  I don't discriminate; so if you fit that description - blond or blue eyed and you send me your naked pics, I'm more than happy to have them.  (That's a hint, by the way.  Yes, send them!)

But from an early age I think I was intrigued by the black girls in school, the Hispanic chicks and any ladies that looked elegant because they weren't the typical American cover of a magazine.  At a young age, I met and married my wife, a Latina, and of course, living in San Antonio, the population is primarily Hispanic.  Brown people everywhere.  I love it.

In our most recent move, I noticed that because we live down the street from a large university, our neighborhood is very multi-cultural.  There is a very small percentage of white and black folks here, but mostly rich Hispanic and then what I'll lump in as foreigners, even if that sounds a little wrong.

I appreciate that some of the southwest Asian folks live their traditional culture here.  People dressed in colorful outfits, head covering etc.  But what really turns me on are the women who have adopted the western culture.  Indian women in really nice and sexy outfits, tight Levis, yoga pants, shorts.  Oh hell yes.

On a tangent, I should note that there is a blonde haired, blue-eyed German lady who lives up the street.  She is mid forties, super fit, always looking hot, and I see her picture plastered on real estate signs in front yards around town.  But back to the Indian and Pakistani women I see.

Until I started actually looking up the term "Desi" on Tumblr, it had not occurred to me that the reason I am so fascinated with these women is, once they are nude, they very much resemble the dark features I enjoy in my wife.   The brown features of these women are wonderful to me.

So I guess I need to ask.  Does this make me some how a weird racist fetishist or something?  I think it just means that I like what I like, but in the same way that some people get slammed for being turned on by certain disabilities - like amputee porn or midgets, or whatever the correct term is.

I guess I should throw in that on my bi-side, I like all flavors of penis, too.

Is this entire post just offensive?  Are we allowed in this day and age to discuss stuff like this?

Monday, February 19, 2018

Boy's Night...

This weekend I attended a bachelor party with a bunch of my coworkers and though I generally shy away from such fun, we had a great plan that included one of those party buses to safely get us from bar to bar.

Of note, we went to a strip club over by San Antonio’s airport called Perfect 10.  I hadn’t been to this place in at least ten years.  I will say that they took care of us with a discounted cover and also got our bachelor up on stage for a two dancer laptop that was hilarious.  They beat his ass with belts!

At some point during the stint in PT’s a coworker decided that I needed a lap dance and because he knew my interest in darker women, he got the one African-American dancer to do the dance.  She was certainly pretty, had a great, tight body, and was a good dancer, but I could tell there was no way I could get into it.

 I was certainly drunk enough to let loose in front of my colleagues but I will say that the current social conversation about men and women and consent causes me to at least take pause.  Of course, she was being paid and tipped and this is her job, but my body simply wasn’t interested in that.  As much as she tried, I don’t think I even got hard.  Maybe if it had been a private dance.  Who knows?

I had a great conversation with another colleague, one who is in a truly open marriage.  He told me about attending his first sex club and how he needs to go back for more.  We don’t have a “graphic details” type of relationship but more the mechanics and philosophy of the marriage arrangements we have.  It was enough for me to say that my wife’s boyfriend had visited her while I was checking into my hotel room downtown.  No further details or explanation needed.

As readers of a sex blog, you probably understand how great it is to find someone who can talk openly about such taboo subjects.  But in our case, we keep things very professional at work.  I haven’t offered to suck his cock, for instance, nor have I suggested to him how much I’d love to fuck his wife or his girlfriend or especially both of them!  But the conversations are nice and we both recommend books, podcasts and blogs to one another.

At the last bar we visited, my friend Co-worker H and I decided to call it a night, grab a Lyft and go to the hotel I was staying at.  The hotel my wife was not at.

We got to the room and without even a word, we both stripped nude and got on the bed together.  He has sucked my dick many times in the privacy of his office or mine, but we’ve never been naked or had time to really play.

I looked at my phone and determined that the Lyft dropped us off at 11:45 PM  and I went to bed at 1:20 in the morning.  Roughly an hour and a half of naughty man fun.

There was a lot of dick sucking, both of us switching off to try to make the other cum. H also did his best to finger bang my ass but without lube, it was a tight fit.  At one point I told him to fuck me but his E.D. Issues limit the erection he can have without pills.  Getting old sucks, people.

Eventually, though it was all very enjoyable I gave in and told H I was not going to cum.  Too many beers.  I knew I had to pee and he said he needed to too so we both walked into the restroom.  I jokingly said we should pee together into the shower.  It was mostly a giggle moment and then I had a thought.  I told him I wanted him to pee on my face.  I know, super drunk but it just seemed funny.

I leaned my head into the shower and H pissed on my cheek.  The warm stream was odorless given the multiple beers that had been consumed earlier in the evening.  I shut my eyes, of course, and certainly kept my mouth tightly sealed.  No lies, it wasn't anything awful.  He stopped peeing and said, "Pee on me!"

I reached my hands into the shower and cupped the water to rinse my face off but really didn't mind that I didn't get it all off me.  I realized that even after all this, I still had a throbbing erection and I still had some pee in my bladder.  H tilted forward and I began letting loose with the remainder of the recycled beer in my body.  He was much more daring than me, turning to take the stream square in the face, and amazingly, opening his mouth to take a shot and momentarily hold it before spitting the piss right back out into the shower.  With the last of my stream covering his closed eyes and his forehead, it was so strange that the two of us were indulging in such varsity level kink.  Okay, varsity level in my book.

H rinsed himself off in the shower and I moved over to the bathroom sink and gave myself a good face scrubbing and brushed my teeth for good measure.  It was probably less than five minutes later, and he was dressed and headed out the door.

The next morning, I got up and showered, then headed home to go pick my wife up.  The plan was to go back downtown and hit the farmer's market piddle around a bit and then head back to the hotel to get ready for the wedding we would attend later in the afternoon. 

When we made it back to the hotel, she was eager to make use of the king size bed and have some afternoon hotel sex.  I was fully aware that her boyfriend, JD had visited her Friday afternoon, but because she had not sent me any pics of them engaged in anything, and because I knew he had come by later than normal, I guess I assumed he had simply stopped by for a quick drink. 

Turns out, he had an afternoon work function and it gave him enough cover for his wife to stay a while longer.  She told me that she asked him to give her a quick foot massage, which he was happy to do, but soon, they were moving from the couch to the bedroom. 

The foot massage in the living room had turned into him going down on her for twenty to thirty minutes.  She said that he made her cum multiple times and when she would assume it was over and he'd get his cloths on to leave, he'd just eat her pussy more until she came again. 

She told me, as she was now riding my cock, that he asked her to ride him the way she rides me.  There is no humiliation or intent to cuckold me when she describes JD's dick being much thicker than mine.  It's not like I haven't seen it.  She described her soaking pussy simply sliding down on his shaft and gripping him with her muscles.  I looked up and her eyes shut tightly, I knew she was going right back there, only with her hips gripping and riding my cock.

She explained that he came so hard in her pussy that when she pulled herself off him, there was a small puddle of cum dripping.  And with that information, I finally shot the load that had been built-up, starting with a lap dance, spurred on by an hour of dick sucking and delayed only by the side effects of beer. 

As it turns out, I had quite a load to deposit myself.  My wife laughed and pulled out her phone and took a picture of my dick and balls covered in the frothy mix of my white cum and her juices.  We giggled a bit and I made my way to the shower while she took a nap.

Just as a final note to cap off this weekend of sex.  Two things.  First, at the wedding we attended, we sat at a table with H and his wife. and a few other female colleagues and their husbands.  It occurred to me that, the colleague sitting next to H had had a brief affair with him sometime back.  They remain close friends but don't fuck anymore.  So it just seemed funny to me that at a weeding, at that table, there was H and me and H and a lady he had fucked, and all our unsuspecting spouses having a great evening.

The second thing was, the other lady sitting at our table was chatting with my wife.  Neither H nor I have fucked her, but we both talk about it all the time.  Anyway, she asked my wife about a picture of something and of course, you know where this is going.  Yes, the picture of my cum covered cock and balls was the first picture to cum up and my wife quick as she could swiped past it, though the laughter and red face from our co-worker pretty much told the story that it wasn't quick enough.  Oh well.  Life is too short to be embarrassed. 

Tuesday, February 13, 2018

Work Stress Averted...

This post isn't really sexual but since this is my only current blog location, it will have to do.  Very briefly, I put myself through an emotional roller coaster yesterday that had me completely rethinking my professional life.  I mean, to the point that I sent a few e-mails where I stated that I was going to seek employment elsewhere.

Things started off well.  I spent a good forty minutes or so chatting with a trusted friend about various things.  Some sexual, some not.  In the end, I felt so good about our conversation I nearly walked back into my office skipping and whistling.  Okay, whistling, anyway.

Then, a colleague passed on some news that it turns out he may have misinterpreted. Obviously, not being specific here, but the point is, it was information that looked as though I had had the rug pulled out from under me but the leadership group. 

I took a minute to digest things then decided to walk up to the front offices and have a little conversation.  Nobody present to talk to so I made my way back to my desk where I tried to focus on some pressing work issues.  It was useless.  The e-mails flew. 

Eventually, one of my trusted co-workers told me I should just take the rest of the day off and do one of those Pro's and Con's sort of lists.  Probably would have been a good idea but I'm horrible at taking advice.

By late afternoon, I talked to another person involved in the matter and his take on "the situation" seemed different.  Nuance is everything, sometimes.   At that very moment, I could feel a weight lift off my shoulders and I could actually feel the stress on my body and my emotions begin to fade.

An hour later I was walking through my neighborhood and my friend called to tell me he had made a phone call to leadership who confirmed that it was all a miss interpretation.  So I feel like I go into work this morning with a positive attitude, a lot less stress, and the work I need to finish from yesterday.

Please don't read into this, there isn't a violent bone in my body, but the whole thing made me wonder.  How many people over the years who have lost their shit at work, went, as we used to say in the 80's, Postal, and wrecked havoc at work over a simple misunderstanding of the facts?

It's funny because in most matters, I'm thought to be the calm, let's get all the facts first, sort of person. I'm usually the guy telling people to calm down (never women, of course) and evaluate what is really going on.  But because this matter directly impacted me and my role in the organization, I took information from someone and allowed it to punch me in the gut without fully vetting it all.

I should work on that.

Friday, February 9, 2018

Brief Meeting With Fun Couple...

You know, it doesn't always end in sex.  This young couple I've been talking with for the last several months, they are such a refreshing conversation for me.  The husband reminds me of what I may have been like at his age, if I had grown up in a world much more accepting of sexual things.  For example, there is no awkwardness between these two when it comes to his desire to suck a dick or have her peg him.  She isn't threatened or disgusted by his flexible interests.

She admits to having been nervous at first, but now that she knows he is genuinely turned on and approving of her being with other men, she has embraced it.  She is still a bit shy when, sitting in the back of my truck in front of a crowded gas station, he lifts her shirt to show me her delicious boobs, yet she smiles brightly when I compliment her, then make a joke about the man directly in front of my truck being on his phone instead of watching the show.

I love the conversation.  There is no chance that sitting in this parking lot we will engage in some drawn out physical act, yet, the conversation where they pepper me with questions about my experiences with my wife and JD, has both the husband and me sporting erections.  I offer my advice about various things, tell a few stories about past encounters, delve into my thoughts on the desire for a husband to crave seeing his wife fuck other men. 

I get a lot from blogging and the e-mail exchanges I engage in with several readers and fellow bloggers.  But sitting there face to face with this couple, so eager to hear my point of view, so interested to learn that I've had similar feelings to what they go through, there is something very special about that. 

Before we had to leave our conversation the husband asked me a question.  If I could have sex with only one of them and had to choose, would it be with him or with her?  I didn't even hesitate for a second.  Her of, course.  Sure, I'd suck his cock.  I'm flexible that way and frankly, I crave the feel of a penis in my mouth.  But this lady is so smoking hot, so very much out of my league.  Given the chance, yes, I'd happily embarrass myself for a chance at her pussy.

The husband pulls his pants down to reveal his erection and asks if I'd like to stroke him before they leave.  Of course I would.  I reached back and as I wrapped my fingers around his shaft, his wife takes a picture of the action.  I stroked him for a minute but watched her face, smiling, intrigued.  She reveals that she came all over his dick just before meeting up with me.  My response was to pull back my hand and take a long lick of the palm, like an all day sucker.     

Like everything in my life, I'm limited by time.  I need more with this couple.