Thursday, May 31, 2007

Mammo Friday (public service announcement)

So tomorrow my breasts will be handled by someone I don't know. There will be some awkard moments, maybe some tension, definitely some repositioning. Yep, it is time for my annual mammogram! Oh joy, you say? Well, I do fall into a slightly higher risk category, so it is well worth the experience. It is interesting to me how each radology center handles the procedure.

My first time the technician gave me a pretty pink gown (preheated) and escorted me to a private changing area. I came back to the equipment room and she very gently placed one exposed breast on the radiology plate, leaving the other modestly covered, and explained what she was doing every step of the way, carefully covering the exposed breast before manipulating the other.

My second time was at a different place where the tech said you can remove your shirt and I said now, right here? She gave me a look that said "Well of course, where else?" So I unbuttoned my blouse, then removed my bra and laid them on a nearby chair. Then she looked at my chart, said "hmmm" and taped a little bb on my right breast at an area we are keeping a close watch. She indicated that I should place my right breast on the cold platform, then she tugged at me like I was a piece of meat (or taffy) until I was positioned just so! When we were done, she indicated that I could get dressed and she proceeded then to tell me about how I would be informed of the outcome, etc. I was a bit discombobulated and it wasn't until later that evening, as I was doing a little strip for my man, that I discovered that little taped on bb.

The next few times were more like the first, a loving atomosphere, pre-warmed gown and platform, gentle touch. Fortunately, each result letter has shown no area of concern (although I do have "dense" breasts that may make reading a little difficult). Tomorrow I am off to a new place. I would find it very interesting to have a male technician. Would he handle my breasts differently? We'll see. Pictures, anyone?

Most importantly, to every one, get a mammo, keep regular on your recommended follow-ups. Early detection of any problem is best, I know, I have a friend who was not as lucky as me, but lucky enough to be alive.

Love to all.



Another from our garage series. Kinda blurry, but that may just be a steamed up camera lens. My editing prowess on these images leaves something to be desired. Still she looks good, no?

Tuesday, May 29, 2007

A History of VSK

It would be nearly impossible to write down all that transpired between myself and VSK in the last 11 years since we openly began entertaining the idea of having sex with other people. In retrospect we both should be able to see that within the dynamic of our relationship there has always been a kernel of wanderlust. VSK attracts men because of her voluptuous body, blond mane and most importantly her warm joyful personality. She is a hands-on person. She changed the culture on my family in terms of being more open and willing to express emotions which greatly benefited my parents if not my siblings and their children as well. The first time she brushed against me, a move she engineered, I became dizzy. I was too daft and self-centered to realize what had happened but I figured it out eventually and my admiration for her is boundless. But all between us has not been easy or effortless. Passion leads to frisson and sparks fly.

When she went on that fateful business trip 11 years ago, she and I were in conflict and I was in full-self-centered regalia. I had recently recovered from a bout of solipsistic depression, and her needs had been stomped on by my emotional conceits. And I knew this at some basic level. She went out drinking after meetings and a genuinely nice fellow (that’s how I like to see it anyway) seduced her. He could see she needed to be flattered and he couldn’t miss the erotic need. She was too drunk and too guilt-ridden to really “go all the way.” They ended up naked in the hotel pool, a farcical under water bj leading to Jimmy pinning her against the side of the pool and sliding his cocktip in only for her to recover her matrimonial morality before he could drive it to the hilt and force her surrender. We had more fun in the days and months that followed, “arguing” about how far he had managed to penetrate her, than we had in the previous year’s diary of fucking. We were on our way yet what we both wanted or feared was opaque and confusing. Our intimacy was on the mend.

My reaction to her “infidelity” was surprising to me. The warmth I had felt at her first touch of my skin returned as a burning fire at my core. I saw her again as a separate being, one that was stunningly beautiful and comely. I obsessed about bringing others into our bed and blindly stumbled and fumbled my way forward as I pushed her to explore. Some of it went well, and some of it was almost comically disastrous. VSK took it all in with aplomb and philosophically handled the failures to connect as par for the course. A woman I worked with and her husband desired many of the same things and while she and I couldn’t cross over our own convoluted history and massive egos, VSK and her husband were clearly agog over each other physically. After some rather mixed early results his wife cleared him to play with just VSK and myself and we had one amazing night together, culminating with me coming in her from behind as he unloaded in her upturned lips. This was stunt-fucking. And given the time to do it without guilt or subterfuge, and with a sexy funny partner, VSK had a blast. The evening did not repeat as the wife eventually changed the rules to their games. And I wonder if she felt some threat from VSK as her husband’s lust was clear and apparent and consuming. Fair enough I figured.

Finding a playmate has been the central nut to crack, and as I have learned more about myself I have just learned not to push at all and to simply let VSK lead. Moreover, my ability to reassure her and protect her virtue in the midst of having her fuck her brains out is central to making things a go. She has explored with an old friend who had always wanted her and again his wife cannot countenance their screwing. He has wisely not sought to go around her nor would VSK tolerate such deceit. He loves her but he loves his wife more. It was he that named her Vanilla Sex Kitten. What makes him a champ is that his vulnerability allows him to be pleasured. A man that comes for VSK is what she wants. She is the embodiment of “it is better to give than receive.” And if I give, she gives, which is an interesting combination to say the least.

Our most recent consistent playmate is again the husband of a woman who has no desire for me. She knows VSK well and does not consider her a threat and has essentially given her man the space to explore with VSK. For his part he has gone from wanting simply to dominate VSK to admitting he can be moved by her. She is a woman that many men must fantasize as a woman to dominate and subjugate, at least sexually. Men who get off on the S side of things see her M and salivate. If they are willing to make it a game then it can work. She likes force as it frees her from the ethics entailed in the initiation to sex. This is a trigger rather than an illusion for her. She knows she likes to have sex with different people and she likes to be the spectacle she most certainly is. That is the aspect of her personality that is so compelling. She doesn’t mind being an object of desire. She has a healthy view of sexuality, something rare and fine in Puritanical America.

Playmate of the moment’s ability to be both forceful and open has made his desire something fresh for VSK and has made them both much better friends. She understands that his coming for her is a bit of a risk for him. Her gratefulness and ability to come without him even touching her as she rubs his cock across her face in a synecdoche on the dominance that he enjoys over her is touching in its honesty and sensuality. He fears his wife will cut him off perhaps, so he leaves quickly after coming, which is a shame to VSK as she would like him to fuck her afterwards so she can bask in the full afterglow of her sex. She comes hard when he fucks her and if he could learn to surrender as he fucks her as well as he can when she blows him she would appreciate it. No hurry. Learning more about her self, my self, his self provides the three of us with hours of pleasant times together. And the future offers us more.

Thursday, May 24, 2007


I suppose this is a rookie mistake but I sure wish folks who visit, and there have been a heck of a lot by my way of thinking, might drop a comment or two off if they want to help the process of what appears on CMVSK. VSK herself has begun to show a real interest in creating and providing content. Thing of it is she has always been an exhibitionist underneath and she figures if your given the blond bombshell visage to deal with then you might as well buy the ticket and take the ride. She dragged me out to the garage last night for an impromptu photo session. The results were mixed but worthy. If HNT interests her this much then lets hope my suggestion of fellatio Fridays takes root. Let’s hope she takes my root that is.

As for the visitors, all of you, thanks. If you’re just lurking looking for some new inspiration, cool. But if your one of the small but growing community of folks who have entered into this type of experimentation with fun time, it would hot if we could get an insight or two fired over at us. Suggestions will be considered if they are considerate. Knowing you’re a freak is one thing, being alone is another. Me, I let my freak flag fly. VSK too.

FYI the red mark on the left breast is from the ice pack VSK was wearing as we watched "Lost" last night. How she hurt herself is actually beyond my comprehension. Suffice is to say is that she'll continue to ignore my admonishments to go to the doc until she can't take the pain and suffering anymore.

Monday, May 21, 2007

Blurred and Stirred

I write the odd piece of exotica based on various realities and fantasies. Here's one that didn't quite come to pass this last weekend although there was some fun play in the fellation room yesterday. I like to think that my prose riles her up a bit! Enjoy.

BTW: I don't have a title for this one so feel free to make suggestions!

She doesn’t want to admit it, but she likes it when he fucks her from behind. He is rough with her unlike her husband, pounding away like a machine, slapping sounds rising and rising with her own cries. Her husband is in the house but has left them alone. He does this to make it easier for his friend to play the games he needs to play in his head to get to the point where he can change from friend to stud. As he locked the door of the guestroom behind him, he grabbed the front of her jeans and pulled her to face him. “Take off your clothes.” She hesitates coquettishly and he unbuttons her pants. She quickly takes over and is soon nude. She stands childishly in front of him and he pushes her into position at the edge of the bed and sits on it in before her. Pushing her to her knees his cock has sprung to life and still she resists reaching for it. Grabbing the back of her head is all the encouragement she needs and she quickly begins to lick and work her lips over the head. Over time this ritual has progress to the point where he knows her moods and how much force he should put into shoving her mouth down his dick. Rarely can she comfortably get her mouth open wide enough to take all of him. So he rubs his meat in her face with a hint of derision and she allows herself to worship the sensation. It excites them both more than either wants to acknowledge.

As she gets more and more aroused he breaks from his pattern of coming in her mouth and pushes her to her feet, then face down on the edge of the bed, her feet still on the floor. She’s feeling naughty and his hardness makes her crave penetration. She’s adding just that little extra bit of submission to her movements with the hope that she can get him to let down that last barrier to her pleasure which is his orgasm inside her. He mounts her and pushes all the way down. Loudly she communicates her approval of his entrance. It hurts just a little at first and then as he withdraws and thrusts it evolves into an aqueous fullness, tidally pulsing in rhythm to his thrusts. He wants to punish her for her wantonness, enraged by her he flushes and begins to pound at her warmth. Immediately he recognizes his mistake. She wants intricate sensation, not the desensitization of physical domination. He slows and she coos affirmatively that he is reading her better. Inside they both shudder with the thought that this is another boundary crossed. Soon he will need her in ways he fears and she too wonders about exposing herself so blatantly. Onward.

For minutes they dance along this new connection, her hips rising with slattern appeal to meet his thrusts and then he lingers buried to full extension squeezing every last detail out of the impact of their acceptance of their act. Slower and slower each cycle goes until the sensation of friction has become a meditation and pleasure has dulled all-awareness of their separation. Reaching this point has taken a lot of practice and now they both want more. Quickening, they strain to capture the mating as it exists beyond their two souls and mostly they succeed. It is his turn to cry out as he allows himself to admit she has a magic he requires. He comes and she goes deep to some private place that allows her to be in command of the woman she is. Her husband hears his friend’s new shout and a flash of jealousy rises. As does his cock. Soon he will be back with her and soon he will have coated her with a claim she gladly accepts.

Thursday, May 17, 2007


VSK is not a clothes horse. Do you think this is what Macy's had in mind when they sold the dress? Guess marketing works. I don't know if it makes her feel more "feminine or flirty" or whatever but it stirs me. To the fellatio room!

Wednesday, May 16, 2007

So U O when you blow?

This is the text message VSK Witness sends me while he is heading up north to visit his dad. He and Playmate were going on a little trip to take dad out on a fishing excursion. Wow, I thought, Playmate actually talked about the other night!

Hmm, the other night. Well, the children were out and about, meaning away from the house. Playmate and Witness had returned to our house after picking up a delivery of fish from the airport. They are both fish hobbyists; the fish being tropical and kept at our house (he is only allowed one tank at his house) in the fish room (over 20 tanks) set up in half the garage. After putting the fish in their new homes, Witness convienently left to pick up one child (and friends) from an event. So, gee, that left Playmate and me all alone, unchaperoned! Whatever would we do? So off to the fellatio, I mean fish, room we went. After some initial hemming and hawing, talking about fish and what not, Playmate made a positive remark about the events on game day. He really enjoyed the blow job, really. I smiled demurely (or lustfully, perhaps) and asked if he would like a repeat. In response he dropped his pants and sat down on a conveniently placed chair (hmm, wonder why that was there). I took off my blouse to reveal my sexy bra and then wiggled out of my pants. He asked why I was getting undressed and I said I was just getting comfortable. He was rigid and ready. I lowered myself to my knees and rubbed his cock in my cleavage. I once had a male coworker ask about the attraction for a women to make a man come by rubbing him between her breasts--I told him to just imagine the view! But I digress. After some moments of this delightful activity, I took him in my mouth and eagerly started with the whole sucking, licking, face-rubbing action, and the more I did it the more excited I became. Kneeling there on the hard garage floor, surrounded by the fish tanks, clad only in bra and panties, encased between his legs, wow! I recognized the slope I was climbing, my breathing became quite ragged, my heart raced, I just let my body take over and I orgasmed! I kind of chuckled and took a moment to catch my breath and he asked what was so amusing. "I just came," I told him. "Really?" he asked. I just looked up at him and smiled then resumed pleasuring him until he had his own orgasm, yea! I eased my body back, the cold cement floor against my bare skin felt delicious.

So on their little drive he told Witness "Your wife is a freak." "How so?" Witness queries. So Playmate related how I came without even being touched. "Yeah, she does that."

I O when I blow, I O when I drive, I can even O in a conference room, but I have to be careful there! Mind over matter and a terrific imagination!

Tuesday, May 15, 2007

Baby Steps

The playmate that VSK has been practicing her oral skills on lately has been a friend of mine for well over two decades. The funny thing is since the two of them have known each other for such a long time, its damn interesting that it wasn’t until we started fooling around with playmate and his wife that the relationship between VSK and he that the two of them started showing each other a proper respect. Over the years playmate has said things to VSK that left her steaming and sardonically predisposed to dismiss his presence. As she and I have took small steps with the two of them physically (and keep in mind that his wife has no interest in me sexually) their relationship warmed. I’ve had to step in and communicate for the two of them at times in order for things to keep moving forward but they have grown a hell of a lot more comfortable with each other and as they have the respect they have for each other has grown as well. This is nice for me in that I don’t have to hear their complaints about the other’s behavior any more.

The evolution of sexual behavior between the two would require more like a chapter in a book than a blog entry. After dancing around the boundaries several times with the two of them over a couple of years, one evening we managed to engineer an evening alone with them and after some drinks and fooling around in the Jacuzzi we crossed over. Left alone with the two of them for a minute as I went for refills, I came back and found VSK eagerly mouthing my friend, which through the encouragement of his wife had given him license to explore his fantasies. She still had some pretty strong feelings about him screwing VSK and so this step was as far as it went that evening. And as she clarified her intentions toward me I drifted a small step toward realizing that for me I found the process whereby VSK fulfilled her sensuality and I participated or watched or even just heard about later to be plenty enough to add that heady frisson I craved to our intimacy. And so it has gone for a while now even as we take further steps down the road less traveled.

Tuesday, May 8, 2007

Too much information?

Why we do what we do has always been something of a mystery to me but given that I enjoy plausibility a bit more than the next guy I have spent a great deal of time trying to figure out why I enjoy what VSK does as much as I do. Besides the obvious benefits of her play getting me nailed more frequently, I think there are deeper reason why this all works. Evolutionary biologists are the go to folks for trying to figure out why humans do what they do, but frankly they are mostly fools as far as I can tell so far. They do a crappy job separating culture from whatever vestal behavior they think they are describing. So here's my take on hotwife behavior from an amateur point of view. And we all know the amateur stuff is way hotter than the pro stuff anyway.

* * *

Years ago when I thought it might matter to somebody, I used to ask the question “why do men have a refractory period after orgasm?” This question was the completing half of the more interesting question (for me) “why can women have multiple orgasms?” Scientists of the evolutionary stripe have tried to answer the question of why women have orgasms and when they talk about it even the folks who think like Desmond Morris and decide that it is so the cervix will dip into the semen pool and get a better shot at fertilization seem to miss the point that there is little evidence that this matters in the least. Women who don’t orgasm get pregnant pretty damn well. That would have to be the truth given that apparently something like 75 percent of women do not regularly have orgasm during sex. Something like 10 percent never have orgasms, and they get pregnant with no apparent difficulty.

Besides the obvious point that the EB researchers never seem to consider that patriarchy might have something to do with the success rate for female pleasure, the question of women’s ability or inability to have orgasms and its evolutionary advantages have to been seen in the larger context of the evolution of culture. And I can see a really obvious and supportable hypothesis that Sarah Blaffer Hrdy danced around in her book called “The Woman Who Never Evolved.” She pointed out that some primate males will not kill the offspring of any female they have mated with. Females that mate with multiple males end up protecting their offspring. More pleasure might equal more sex might equal either females needing more rogering for orgasm or maybe more orgasms period.

But if you extend this to a cultural analysis rather than simply a mechanical one, you might suggest as I will that females were the centerpiece in the development of better male relationships. Males that are hyper competitive are freaking dangerous. And males that find ways to share stand a great deal better chance of working together as a team to survive and prosper. The development of the tribe does not go together real well with nuclear families. To wit: if you make sexual behavior a group activity you end up with an extended family of males who, by not over stressing on sexual availability get to focus on other behaviors that enhance the survival of the group. If a female can nail multiple men (which is something that some women can and enjoy doing) she becomes a very culturally valuable creature. Ramón Gutiérrez in his book “When Jesus Came, the Corn Mothers Went Away: Marriage, Sexuality, and Power in New Mexico, 1500-1846” points out that one of the first things that Spanish clergy noticed and had to “fix” when they met up with the Pueblo Indians is that they didn’t seem too possessive about their women and they didn’t really freak out properly when their women laid the Spanish soldiers. Shame had to be taught. There is a reason they call it the missionary position, dumb asses!

Beyond this crazy speculation, there is the work of those scientists who point out that sperm behave in a manner that shows they figure they have to fight off other flavors of sperm to get their uber boy to the egg. Some cohere and create plugs to wall off the passage to the gamete while others sprint to the goal. And then there is the issue of why women bleed every month. Simply they do so because it is good for them. Semen is a disease vector. Blood is a cleansing agent. And women who have sex with only one partner actually adapt to that reality and biochemically make it easier for those boys to come home. Which suggest that less is not more from an evolutionary point-of-view.

Given our obsessive issues with fidelity and virginity and the attendant ownership issues, why might just stop for a moment and decide if all that bullshit has made the world a better place or not. This all ties into heaven and especially hell, and the freaked out masculinity that needs to be assured and coddled and told that the kid really is theirs and that in some psychic way they do get to live forever. Living in the sexual regime of the male has defined our human history. The evolution of sexuality has a role to play in figuring out where we went astray and headed on into making violence a co-partner with sex. If you don’t believe me this is the case, ask a Bonobo. Or go to your local women’s shelter.

* * *

As you can see, you can end up on a pretty high horse thinking about these things. I think I just condemned Western Civilization or something there in the last paragraph. Regardless, as long as no one kills the fun machine, I'm in for the duration. And VSK sure seems to be.

Friday, May 4, 2007

The Wife Writes!!

Today is Naked Friday (saw it on the Internet-so it must be true) and in keeping with that I decided to do naked housecleaning. Yup, carried the laundry down and got it sorted and started the machines, picked up the house (well, picked up the stuff everyone thinks is okay to leave lay wherever), started on the downstairs bathroom--all bareassed nekkid (maybe I'll add a picture when I learn how). Then decided I had better try my hand at writing something for our new (and my only) blogsite (is that what it is called?). It will make my husband happy and that is what makes me happy.

I wanted to get an idea of what people write on these things so I started by looking at some of the sites hubby has linked on the page. Of course I got distracted and had to take an electronic-pleasuring break, but I'm back now, sitting on a towel (don't want to besmirch the leather chair and possibly face embarrasing questions from the children), trying to figure out what to write.

Yes, yes, I'll write about Monday night! As my dear husband, VSK Witness, has mentioned we have a friend we play with every now and then, so I'll call him Playmate. Well, Playmate had a couple of tickets to the ball game and Witness couldn't go. Playmate's wife has no (like zero) interest in watching ball games, so I got to go! We were watching the game and our team wasn't doing so well. Playmate says, "If they lose you know what you have to do." So I grinned at him and said "Yeah, and if they win, you know what you have to do!" Well, they lost. We left the ballpark and Playmate drove me to the building where my car was parked in the underground garage. We had to go through the building (requires a secruity card), wave at the guard, and take the elevator to the garage. Playmate sat in the front seat, passenger side and I was in the driver's seat getting ready to take him up to his car. Playmate said, "Time to pay up!" I suggested a raincheck (it was late after all), and in response he lowered his pants and I could see he was well on his way to full erection. And that made me excited. So I scooted my seat back, knelt on the floor in the foot well, leaned over the center divide and bent over his cock. He has a very wide cock (I can't encircle it with one hand). And I have learned that trying to do a traditional cock-fully-in-the-mouth BJ can be tiring and trying with him, so I mix it up with some face rubbing, licking and nibbling all along his shaft. The face rubbing seems to really get him going (just learned this the other night in the spa), and he came really hard, like can't-catch-my-breath hard! And that made me happy, especially when I thought about telling Witness and how happy that would make him, and then I could be happy some more (as well as get fucked which would further add to my happiness factor).

Funny part: after a few moments of recovery, I discovered that I was stuck--steering wheel in the back, legs in awkard position-loss of feeling, no real leverage point stuck! I looked up at Playmate and said, "Call 911 I'm stuck!" And we just busted up laughing.

Thursday, May 3, 2007


Its seems a shame to limit nudity to a single day and judging by the number new derivative days of prurience "cockblogging Wednesday" for one, I will try to not over post the nude picks of VSK or her sexing doppelgangers as we build this blog up to speed. But I have got quite a few pics so if you all will excuse me a bit, here's another one. Happy happy, joy joy!

Wednesday, May 2, 2007

Going nuclear

I have noticed a tendency in my behavior to take the best things in my life and then turn them into philosophical or political fodder. Too much education I guess. With my wife, no such tendency lies beneath. Its not that she is simply less introspective than I, its just that she has some sort of intuitive knowledge that she would rather leave wordless and I am a slave to symbols. Writing is not my living yet I have gotten paid for it. Watching my wife with other men is not my living, it pays like crap, and I find that philosophically its wonderful. Stop me if I bore you.

As a couple who have yet to go to their first swinger's party, we are not exactly experts in all things "lifestyle." In fact, what I notice the most about folk who are swingers or cuckold husbands, hotwives, poly-whatevers, etc etc, is that no two are alike. What they do have in common is a desire to live outside the nuclear family of politically correct America. And politically they don't want to claim too much for this decision. Rather they just want to share the fun and experiences they have had and maybe get a bit turned on in the process. Or maybe the process of getting turned on requires some fundamental association with the symbolic in order to be a turn-on? Like my wife they care not to be too introspective or claim too much for whatever it is they are experimenting with or have come to love. Wisdom seems to be not to claim that a fuckfest will set you free.

For us, whatever it is, it seems that whenever my love has sex or even flirts hard with another fellow (and women are something I don't think she is fundamentally opposed to fiddling with but no great opportunity has yet arisen) I get a buzz off of her that carries over for a while and puts us both in a happy space. Freaks like us are getting more common as far as I know. Actually I think that they have always been around but now acknowledging them seem less risky. I asked her the other day if she could think of any friend of mine who didn't want to fuck her and she could only pause, think and then smile that it would be hard to name more one or two over the 27 or so years. Look at her ass and know why. Spend more than a couple of minutes around her and even if the ass isn't to your liking the undeniable truth is she just has something beyond words that men want. And its not marriage. I am a lucky guy.