Where's The Music?

One of the clearest indicators for me that I'm either entering or in a black hole is that I stop listening to music, I stop hearing music inside my head. I'm not like the Mozart character in Amadeus, but I have a soundtrack going inside my head most of the time. It's either classical or jazz or rock n roll, but it's something. And when it goes away, it means I'm down for the count in a big way.

My late friend Paul had a stroke several years ago, at a relatively early age for that sort of thing, and one of the things he couldn't do was listen to music. This is a guy that owned hundreds of jazz recordings in all formats from vinyl to mp3, he couldn't decode what he was hearing until his brain and thinking power had time to settle back into a reasoning format.

And so it's been lately for me, the DSL and phone difficulties certainly didn't help, but for the last few weeks, it's been very dark. And with the darkness went any urge for any sort of sex activity, and this means a real drought here, because She takes behavior mod drugs that just about do in Her libido, and She has to be led to it all the time, albeit willingly.

But I'm back, sitting here with an erection the size of a barber pole, after having read Mrs Kelly's Playhouse and one or two other blogs that I check periodically. I'm back to who I am, and boy does it feel good.


Earworms: ELO-Mr. Blue Skies, Phil Collins-Take Me Home (extended)

And dejected...

Well, so much for that. The phone/DSL left earlier this morning, and tells me that I'm still hooked into the bad guys service. So I have to wait until next week to cancel what I have, and replace an order for new phone/dsl service. And then wait 7-10 days to hook up to what I used to have.
Makes me want to cry, but the upside is that I've found out that the local Y has wifi service in the library, and so I'm back in business and will be seriously posting over the next day or two.

I'm So Excited

The tech world is descending on my apartment tomorrow, the A/V people in the morning and the computer guy in the afternoon, and if all's right in the world, I should be back to serious posting by the end of the day.
If anybody's still reading....

Earworm-Pointer Sisters, I'm So Excited (what else?)

M.I.A.

I have been done in by technology, and by the poorest of cable modem installations, and my home access is limited, to say the least.
By the very nature of what's read and written here, using either public computers or computers at clients offices will not work.
So my postings and visits to various blogs will be limited for the next week, until Tuesday afternoon, when I can get my DSL connection back.
For those that check in, please don't be angry, and continue to check in, just in case I get connected sooner rather than later.

Dreams: Whatever You Want-Part IV

"Watch this," she hissed into my ear yet again, as she bent over. "Think about what's happening to you. And remember who's doing it."

And as she started to push down on the top of the brushhead, the plastic stick began to enter my slit and slide down...SHE WAS FUCKING MY PENIS!! Slowly, ever so slowly, she pushed down on the head to the brush as the smooth plastic made its way into me. Between the lube and the precum, i could feel my shaft being widened and filled by the stick, and i watched as it disappeared, two or three inches of it, deeper and deeper. i felt a fullness, an expansion, an inability or a lack of desire to move at all. As i lay there, She raked my thighs with her fingernails, and in reflex i opened my legs even wider than before. They waved back and forth, almost like butterfly wings, as i tried to expand the sensation She was making me have, of opening wider and wider.

She grabbed my cock at the base, holding it against my stomach, and slowly pulled the stick out, my hips recoiling against the mattress.

"We're almost finished here," she said, smiling maliciously, "but now that you've seen yourself get fucked, you're going back into the darkness," and she retied the blindfold. "Don't go anywhere, I'll be right back."

Soooo Pissed

It's a well known fact among people that know me that I'm one of the last of the luddites. Today I spent the better part of three hours having the local cable company install their DSL, switch over the phone service and install a DVR box.

The internet connection works only intermitently (sp?), I have to have my audio guy come back to hook up the DVD & VHS & Tuner/Amp/CD equipment, I got no work done after noontime, and I have nobody to get angry with except myself...the 3 way package was $100 per month for the first year, and was about 50% less than what I was paying before.

And I don't even want to get started on the Ipod problems I'm having with the new Ipod I got.

What is it so hard to get new technology installed and working properly?

Dreams: Whatever You Want-Part III

It wasn't the mascara, it was a small palette of eyeshadow, with a tiny brush with an ovoid head and a very thin handle, almost a miniature lollipop, and She put the head of it in Her mouth to moisten it. She squeezed out a dollop of the toothpaste, and leaned forward to whisper in my ear yet again. "Think about how this is feeling," she said. "Don't make a fucking sound," she finished, and started to paint my scrotum with the toothpaste, pausing each time she refilled the brush surface to admire her handiwork.

At first the sensation was just a coolness, a damp in the air type thing, but it slowly changed as the paste remained on my skin, turning warmer and warmer, then suddenly starting to burn, as the soft skin became more and more irritated. I twisted my pelvis from one side to another, trying to escape what was quickly becoming excruciating pain, when She grabbed my cock just below the head and murmured "Hold still for this part, and watch. If you move, it might hurt even more. But maybe you'd like that."

And she reached back to the carryall and took out some lube in a single pinch packet, ripping it open to massage a small amount onto my dickhead, dribbling the rest down below my now aching scrotum, until it dripped into my anus.

She poised the brush head up right on top of my cock. "Didn't really need much lube here, did you?"

Listen To What You're Saying

I've never made a secret of the fact that I'm a slut for the beach, and will do anything to spend time on the sand under the sun, which I do a lot of during the summer and early fall. One consequence of this is that I spend a fair amount of time sitting with other people, the same group of people, every weekend, people that She's known all Her life, and that I've known since before the Boy was born.
And sometimes their masks fall down.
Last Saturday, I listened to a long story about how a friend of theirs had opened a store in a predominantly Jewish village, and found himself blackballed by the locals because he was an outsider. Yes, it is a predominantly Jewish village, and yes, he probably was the only Christian shopkeeper on the main drag, and yes, the local citizens probably continued to shop where they always had, and yes he probably did go out of business because the circumstances were wrong and he didn't do enough market research into where he was opening his store. But the woman who told this story needed to remember that the "they" in this tale of woe included me, and she should have been more sensitive to the fact that I was the main audience.
Later on in the day, She was talking about my penchant for buying multiple suntan creams, soaps and shampoos...it's something that I've always enjoyed, and so does She. The same person asked "Are you gay or something?" Normally, I suffer from New York Quickmouth, and would've chewed her up, but I just made a polite rejoinder and let it go...I should've said "Yes, I'm gay, and I've always been gay. Didn't you know?" The one time my mouth moved slower than my brain...
You can't self edit all the time, but ya do need to think about what you're saying....

Earworm-Average White Band, Got The Love

Broadcasting

I've always been a firm believer in the idea that you indicate your state of mind and being in numerous ways, speech sometime being the least of them.

Within the last two days, I've gotten come ons from two disparate women. The odd thing is that I'm not looking. I've been in a long term relationship with Her, one which has its ups and downs just like everything else, being subject to the ebb and flow of human emotions over time.
I went into a local bead store to buy a replacement tie for a Q Link that I started wearing two years ago when I went high altitude trekking. The woman in the store made physical contact in enough ways for me to feel that it was something else beyond just being friendly, touching when there didn't seem to be any reason.

Yesterday I went into the local library and had an overly long conversation with one of the librarians that I've talked to several times before, always about library business. Earlier this summer, she was talking with one of the other librarians about their vast manga collection, and I suggested to her that she look up "hentai" comics, which my friend Elizabeth tells me are Japanese porno comics. Since then, although she's never mentioned it, she's been overly solicitous and friendly, always engaging in whatever conversation she can.

I know I'm not actively putting myself out there, not actively looking, but is there something that I'm doing subconsciously, some way I'm carrying myself, some difference in my stance or gait that's telling people I'm available?

Balance

Most of us take our physical well being for granted...we get up every morning, go about our business, the day ends.

Last night, we came home from dinner out and a play, and I felt somewhat lightheaded and dizzy...not the room is spinning dizzy, but sort of too much lateral movement, a unsureness of balance. It hampered reading in bed, and so I went to sleep. When I awoke this morning, and turned over in bed, the feeling was still there, and so I waited for about 1/2 hour before getting out of bed.

For the most part, the feeling has dissappated (sp?), but it was very scary.

Dreams: Whatever You Want-Part II

She continued to twist and pull for several minutes, rubbing Her groin up and down my stomach as She manuevered the clamps, and I could feel Her moisture start to flow, through the thong and onto my skin. I could feel Her getting wetter and wetter, and wondered which one of us would cum first. But She stopped, stopped the twisting, the pulling, the rubbing up and down, as She told me "I'm going to take these off now, and it's going to hurt." She bent down and put Her mouth to my ear, using Her tongue to lick the inside, biting hard on the lobe, and then She hissed "a lot."

She took the first one off, and my nipple started to throb and ache as the blood flowed back into it. She put Her mouth just over it, and breathed warm air onto it, pausing occasionally to use the flat of Her palm to massage it, and then She did the same for the other nipple, pulling on the first one when She thought I was getting too comfortable with it all.

Suddenly She took off the blindfold and smiled at me. "I want you to watch and see the next part," She said, and turned back to the carryall to rummage around once again. She pulled out Her mascara, and a tube of Close Up toothpaste, the kind that was colored red and tasted of cinnamon. She wiped my cock clean with Her palm, and then brought Her hand to Her mouth and licked, making a moaning sound deep in Her throat. She forced my legs toward my butt, until my knees were in the air, keeping my feet on the mattress.

"We're starting in a different direction," She said, "a new beginning."

God Was Looking Out For Me

It was ten years ago this weekend that I found my house in the country. It wasn't a big house, but as soon as we walked in I knew it was the right place. I'm not, or perhaps am no longer, a religious person, but I always felt that God knew that this was important.

I grew to love the beach later in life...it was always a drag as a city kid driving to the beach in an unairconditioned car, getting way burned, then driving back home sticky and sandy. But She grew up in a beachfront community, and after a long period of time I figured it all out, and now I say I'm a slut for the beach, and will do almost anything to get here.

My view of a supreme being is much like the Janitor in Steambath...he pops in occaisionally to do things on a random basis and then leaves, not full time hands on. My sense is that I got lucky here, and will always think about it in terms of divine intervention.

Earworm-Stephane Grappeli, Always (the Stevie Wonder song)