Hey there my friends! The problem with kids is that I depend on them for the advanced technical stuff. Well, them and the IT guys at work. But neither is really appropriate to ask for help in uploading pictures (althougth the IT guys would get a big . . . kick out of it) ! So, you will have to let your imagination run wild picturing me in a long shot, leaning back on the cream-colored couch, the green of the outdoors in the background, me wearing a smile and a flower lei. Okay, so it is late. I have had a couple (4) glasses of wine. I gave up on trying to find the cable to transfer the pics from the camera to my BRAND NEW LAPTOP. VSK witness is out of town, and so I was working on a crossword and a thread started in my head. What do you think? You know I love all of your comments! Take care.

P.S. Pizza Boy, lunch tomorrow? I have to work part of the day, call me mijo!
_________


Object of my desire, oh how you inspire.
I watch, barely breathing, as you appear,
A smile ready on your lips, a playful comment emits.
I wonder, are you serious, do you really know what you are saying?
What if I call your bluff; what if you call mine?

You are lanky, sinewy, raw.
Untried, unused, unfettered.
Such energy, such disregard, such frailty, there, just below the bravado.

What is it that you want? What is it that I can offer?
Oh, and how I imagine, how I dream, how I can very nearly feel the all of you.
My breath, it is so shallow; I dare not want more.

I want to take you, teach you, treat you.
There is so much.
You are so . . . so young, and old, too.
You have been misused, misled, mistrusted.
You want…what? Do you know?

I want . . . what, do I know?
Primal, maternal, more than physical.
It is blurry, the lines of my desire;
Hot, warm, troublesome.

You leave your traces in so many places.
Do you even know?
Do you feel the heat? Do you hear the unsaid?
Can I feel you? Please?

You inspire.
My desire.

Absence makes the dick grow harder

I'm off for a little work trip, which means that the kitten and I will be apart for a little while. I'm sure that anyone who has been married for awhile or who's been in a LTR of some length knows that there are some interesting things that happen when you are away from your sweety. It is as if distance brings clarity. The last few weeks have been a bit rough on the two of us, not that we haven't been through rough before, but the rocky bits are real between us and we have to work hard to get past our conflicts and get back to communicating fairly and well. VSK has been her usual best, and we have been at each other like mink. And now I will be away from her for maybe two weeks and this always seems to be interesting. Grounding even.

When we were pups we called each other every night. We learned about phone sex. Now when I leave I fantasize about her "playing around" even though I have learned that this is unlikely. A couple of times in the past when I have gone away she has convinced me that she had/is having sex with someone. I find out later that my fantasy was just that, and perhaps this really doesn't matter. The few moments I get, convinced that I've been had are priceless. The reality doesn't necessarily take away from the imagination.

This trip will be interesting because I have some plans of my own. Not that I really expect that I will get anywhere with the woman I have been thinking about, but the potential is worth some sort of pleasure, in the mind of the beholder. It helps to remember that no matter what my "success" might be, I return to nirvana. I do realize how lucky I am. I will be counting my blessings every day.

Here's a little belated HNT. Best to everyone.

What the Smart Set doesn't understand

If you spend any amount of time in a LTR and any amount of time reading say The New Yorker, the New York Times, or anyone who likes to think they have the key to the internal workings of the great American mentality, you run up against, again and again, the dispensation of the Grand Emotional Truth. GET, for short. As in, do you get it? Do you understand that love is different than lust and the never the twain should meet in a real romance? Even when your not getting it, because that getting of it is just porn, and they (the great herd of smart received wisdom about love and sex) all know what that is.



Like fuck they do. The NYTimes pubished a story about a couple of couples who decided, egads!, to see how many days in a row they could do it. They made sex into work, and found out that, "hey, this seems to have helped our intimacy!" The average American couple does it 66 times a year, and most figure that figure is higher than it really is for those who have been in a LTR, because we all know young couples do it at a higher frequency. And eventually reality/boredom comes to play its well known cards and the GET holds that slow death as normal.


I started writing this blog about a year ago because I wanted not only to show off and play with my wife, but because I think that what passes for the GET amongst American couples and described in the media, high and low, sucks eggs. I don't want to get all political here, but there is a reason why we are a country prone to violence, prone to over-eating, prone to Prozac, number one in the world in prisoners kept and keepers of a high divorce rate. Simply put, the Puritans were wrong about fucking, folks. They didn't get it and what they left as a foundation for sexuality in this great nation is as bad a legacy as can be imagined. Someone please show me the great happy normalcy that is the foundation of our greatness. And as the readers of this blog know; it doesn't exist. It never did. And occasionally the ones that seem so sure that porn killed romance piss me off so much I have to vent. I'm betting that romance has killed more than porn ever did. At least if death equals begging your wife for a blow job.


What I mean to engage is the truth that if you don't have a working sex life, its gonna be damn difficult to have intimacy, and intimacy is the salvation of "romance." It nearly the definition of romance. The intimacy that partners can share by know each other's bodies is the fundamental root of our romantic worlds. The smart set of folks who have all read too many novels and lost their physicality in the grand narratives of the GET, those folks will never get to understand how a show like Swingtown or whatnot might have something bigger to say than "Friday Night Lights." I know that we all want to think we are special, and that our special relationship is a gift of fate that makes sense of what we are to do with our time here, but what if that is not so? We make our own realities, and to the extent that we have the guts to trust our own desires as good and not bad, we can garner something that feels a lot like the freedom we all cherish so well, and practice so poorly.

After a year at this blog, I've got to come clean even as I plan on posting more nekkid wife pics. There is a battle out there for the sensibility or our nations sexual and emotional truths. First thing you need to know is that its plural not singular. Something swinging sex bloggers are pointing out with every post.