Random Thoughts #1-The Posts That Didn't Get Written

Starting Out Poor
Financially, we're comfortable now, but there was a time years ago, when my son was first married and She wasn't working, that we were quite poor. I had no professional credentials and wasn't really making enough money to support a family. We were robbing from Peter to pay Paul on a constant basis, and I was toying with the idea of a substance abuse problem to boot, and every dollar we spent was one that left home grudgingly. When I think back to that time, it almost breaks my heart.
As a child, I had a very high IQ, but languished in mediocre public schools, constantly bored, not learning anything (including not learning how to learn), reading books under my desk to pass the time. And I vowed that this would never happen to my son, so we spent money we didn't have and couldn't afford to send him to private school, where he was always the poorest kid in the class. Poor but also the smartest,although he hid his capabilities under a bushel basket, away from everyone except the teachers, who all knew.

Watching
I think I've probably been looking at too many wicked postings on youporn.com lately, because I've started to see random women in the street, and imagine what they might look like in the throes of orgasm. Everyone in ecstasy has a far away look about them, eyes closed, mouth perhaps slightly ajar, flushed, limbs perhaps splayed, hips and groin bucking. I see these women only from the neck up, each with eyes closed, far away in their own pleasure.

Words
There are certains words that just sound sexy, certain nouns and verbs that make you think of one thing and one thing only. My favorite is FONDLE---you can only fondle one or two things: breasts, balls, perhaps that's it. Another word is JUTTING---only breasts or perhaps a cock seems to jut (I just saw Beowulf, and Angelina's breasts are jutting...take my word for it). And I can't hear the word rut without converting it to RUTTING.
Can you think of others? Let me know.

Earworms
I've written about earworms before, the music that gets stuck in your head and you can't get rid of...yesterday I had the strangest earworm, the St. Crispins Day speech from the film of Henry V with Kenneth Branagh and Emma Thompson. I don't know the speech that well, but had watched the movie coming back on a long trip from Bangkok to Berlin, and it was one of the few things I hadn't seen in the last three weeks. And yesterday, I couldn't get it out of my head. See the movie and you'll know what I mean

It Comes and It Goes

Reading other people's blogs makes me think that everybody thinks about nothing but sex, and I know it's not true. Readers only get the good parts, the horny parts, the reaching between your legs to touch yourself parts. You miss the "other" parts, like doing the laundry, making the bed, grocery shopping, etc., etc.
So when I couldn't write what I wanted to the way I wanted to write it, I started to wonder where my urge for sex had gone, and why it had deserted me. Intellectually I understood what had happened, but emotionally it was wreaking havoc. Engrailed posted about this last week, and Scott from Mrs. Kellys Playground touched on it also recently. And he was the one who put me back on track---I've been selectively watching YouPorn.com, and it's made me horny as hell.
Now, how can I explain it to Her, for whom sex is a weekend activity only at best?

And I need to write something about all the random thoughts and ideas that started as posts but didn't quite make it. Perhaps tomorrow.

One Night In Bangkok-Part Ib

And so we disentangled from the positions we were in, she sitting crosslegged at the head of the bed, and I at the very foot. She reached down to her bag, and brought out a large and very lifelike dark brown dildo, which she placed on the bed in front of her. I have always been a watcher, really getting aroused by watching other people experience sex, either by themselves or while participating with someone else, whether it involved watching them do themselves, or seeing them engaged in sex with another person. And so we proceeded to the second part of the night---I wanted to see her squirt while masturbating, something She never goes (either the masturbating or the squirting).
And I knew this was the hardest thing that I was asking this woman to do, because it meant showing me something personal of herself. She reached down with her left hand, and separated her lower lips, allowing me to see her pinkish vulva in greater exposure. Her right index finger reached down between the lips and started to slowly move back and forth up and down her slit, pausing occaisionally at the top to give her clit a slight twirl. She closed her eyes and seemed to settle down further into the position she was sitting in. I could hear the tiny scratch-scratch of her fingers as they grazed her pubic hairs, even cut short as they were.
She stopped for a moment, reached down for the tube of lube, and applied it to her opening, leaning back against the wall, and then she slowly put the dildo in, wriggling back and forth until the whole thing disappeared up her canal. I could see the flat base between her legs, and her tight brown anus was on display as well.
Her left hand now pushed down on her pubic bone just above the hairline, splaying her slit wide open and forcing her clit to stand up in greater exposure, almost holding the slit open. Her right hand returned to its work, concentrating more now on the clit, moving up and down with a come hither motion, faster and faster, her jaw dropping as she became more aroused. She started to move the dildo in and out as she fingered her clit, and I could see that she might be close to cumming. She continued, increasing her speed with both of her hands, until suddenly she jerked the dildo out of her vagina, grunted once or twice, and started to spray out a clear, what seemed like slightly viscous fluid. She had squirted two or perhaps three times, making with bed wet with her fluids, and I reached down to touch the slightly tacky wetness, finding out that it was not unlike the precum that might, and in fact was dripping from my from my cock.
She sat up and opened her eyes, giving me a slight smile, somewhat shy, perhaps acknowledging that she had shown me something private, something of herself.

Reasons, No Excuses

I'm thinking that everybody who posts regularly to a blog encounters the week from hell, when work, family, whatever so overloads your synapses that it's difficult to save enough energy to write, and to write well.

That was this past week for me, catching up on a month's work from when I was travelling, preparing for an IRS situation (don't ask), fighting a wicked proxy battle in my co-op building (something only New Yorkers can truly understand) where I'm the president, battling with Her about family matters for the upcoming holiday (great subject for a massive post in the future), and fighting jet lag that caused me to nod off like the proverbial junkie at the strangest times.

I'm trying to get back to posting more regularly, and to finish the ever so wicked tale of my time in Bangkok, because it turned out to be a turning point for me.

Please be patient. Work in process.

One Night In Bangkok-Part Ia

She had stopped at the bar exit and picked up her tote bag, and slung it over her shoulder, along with the tiny change purse evening bag, which only had enough capacity for money, condoms, lipstick, and anything else tiny. She took my arm and led me down the street to an unmarked and unremarkable looking door, which opened onto a tiny lobby and staircase, which we climbed together.

At this point I started to feel anxious, performance anxiety settling in at a rampant pace...it had truly been a long time since I had been with a woman other than Her. One gets used to conveniences and accomodations, the way you touch and get touched, and I was hoping that I hadn't forgotten what to do and how to do it. My breath became shorter, and my throat started to constrict, which is the feeling that I always get in new sexual situations. As we walked down a hallway, I took deep breaths, knowing that there was no turning back. But this was my arrangement, this was for me, this was for my pleasure, so why was I so nervous? We entered a room, and she immediately crossed to turn on the tiny air conditioner, cooling the room almost instantly. She turned to face me, standing alongside the bed, and said, "Money first," and so I paid her the agreed upon price in the local currency (bahts) and she tucked the bills into her purse and hung it on the back of the door.

She turned her back to me and calmly shrugged out of her dress, and I could see only fine smooth skin, a bubble shaped rear, and the tiny string of her thong climbing up between her cheeks. She turned to face me, with her arms crossed in front of her breasts, and her pubic area just covered by the thinnest and tiniest triangle of black fabric. As she let her arms fall to her sides, I could see that I'd made a right choice. She had standup boobs, and nipples that were large, dark, round, almost like half dollars, and so I stood there, dumbstruck, poleaxed, like a deer in the headlights. She took off her triangle and showed me the smallest landing strip pubic hair I'd ever seen. Then she took a small towel and wet just one corner of it, wiping around her miniature patch, pulling it up between her legs.

Crossing to me, she skinned my shirt over my head, and then reached down to open my pants, which puddled around my feet. My cock stood out against my shorts painfully, until she pushed down my black underwear. She wiped my down with another corner of the towel. She walked to the head of the bed and sat down across it, motioning to me to lie down across her lap.

And so we came to the first part, her dangling her breasts in my mouth and my sucking on them, while she manipulated me with her hand until I came. She bent over a bit, allowing one breast to just reach my mouth, while putting her hand down deep between my legs, reaching with her pinkie to the very edge of my perineum, where it meet my ass, slowly dragging the nail up to my scrotom, back down again, then up and across my balls to the base of my penis. My hands remained at my sides, and I sucked gently and persistently first at one nipple and then at the other, feeling her nipples swell and harden as I sucked. She had applied some lube to my cock, and started to gently, oh so gently, stroke up and down, doing some sort of butterfly thing with her fingertips at the very top. I was far gone, going to some other place of pleasure, just becoming two sensation points, one at my mouth and tongue, the other between my legs.

Every time I started to get ready to cum, she would slow down and concentrate just on the head, sensing when my hips might start to move back and forth, stopping stroking and just playing with the head, her nails and fingertips playing their little game. Sounds started to come out of me, moans combining the feeling of pleasure and the pain of not quite cumming, and I continued to suck and suck and suck. Finally I could wait no longer, and she held my cock in place as I came on my own stomach, the cum pulsing out in warm globs. She bent further forward over my stomach and licked up the cum, bringing up face up so that I could see it dripping from her mouth. It's what I'd paid her for.

One Night In Bangkok-Prologue

I've been travelling in countries where I wasn't quite sure what I could and couldn't put into email or bring up on the screen, and the diffiiculty of reading the home page in Thai or Bhutanese, or German for that matter, made posting difficult. But I'm back, with truly lots to say.

I had thought about it long and hard, the prostitute concept, the idea of paying someone for sex, and rationalizing it in terms of Her. Our sex fits what might be called GGG---good, giving, and game, although the last part has waned over time. The fact that She takes behavior modification drugs, and has hit the menopause wall, renders Her libido pretty much a thing of the past. Even the CR variety of the drug pretty much leaves Her with an intellectual interest, but without any real horniness, and certainly not for any seriously new activities, which seem to be all that are on my mind lately. And so I've worked out in my mind what works for me...that what I'd be doing is paying for activities or things that aren't part of the sexual vocabulary at home, things that She just won't even think about. It isn't just for normal sex, but rather for what I would experience with Her.

As it turned out, my hotel in Bangkok was just about a 15 minute walk from Soi Cowboy, one of the two major open sex areas in the city, and I had been passing it the first two nights, when I went out for street food for dinner. I didn't even realize this until I was walking past a bar on the second night in the city, and I was accosted by a multitude of girls asking me if I wanted to have a good time, and would I come in for a beer, all beers 75 bahts in the local currency. I'm dense sometimes, but even I understood where I was, and so with a mental throw of the switch, I went into the airconditioned bar and elbowed my way up to the bar. It was sort of like the Beach Boys song, "Two girls for every boy", except there were a lot more than two for every guy, and it took me a minute before I realized that direct eye contact constituted an invitation. But I was judicious in gazing around, and found someone I thought kind of sexy. All the women wore similar outfits, spaghetti strapped camis over tight black pants, or similar dresses, ending way about the knee. The girl that I chose, because she looked about 16 (and maybe that's part of the allure) had long dark hair to the middle of her back, peekaboo bangs and a slightly sulky cast to her lips. There was not much light in the bar, and less light in her eyes. She was short and had average sized breasts, which swung freely under her top. But she quickly joined me at the bar (I'm not a sit down at the table sort of guy), asking me if I would buy her a girldrink (I should hasten to add here that I had discussed all of this with my friend Chuckie the Gym Rat, who spends a third of the year in Thailand, but now only goes upcountry), who let me know what protocol might be, and what questions I should be asking, before I would up paying for a champagne cocktail of fruit juice and some exhorbitant rate.

The drinks came quickly, and she turned sideways, smearing her cleavage across my arm, putting her mouth close to my ear to overcome the thumping disco music, asking me if I would like to go somewhere. I had thought about this for such a long time, think about how I would tell her what I wanted, my hearbeat going way up and my throat constricting the way it always does when I'm around illicit sex or some new sexual experience. And so I told her, the three things that I wanted her to do, telling her one thing at a time what was on my list. She seemed to balk at the second activity, and I was able to explain to her that it was an all or nothing experience. She wanted to say that one thing was too personal, and waBargirl English is remarkable in that there must be nothing that they haven't been asked to do, and so we bargained, mouth to ear and ear to mouth, until we agreed on a price and a time limit. And then I added a few additional ideas, the price going up like a cash register as I added things. It was a remarkable feeling, being able to get someone to do something sexual by baldly adding bahts to the amount. I always say that I'm a slut for the beach, meaning that I'll do almost anything to get there, but now I truly understood the slut concept, as she would do anything I asked, for money.

And so I paid a small bar fine, and we exited the bar into Soi Cowboy, moving towards an unmarked door further up the street, next to one of the ubiquitous sidewalk noodle stands.

Mating Rites in Bhutan

Rather than get into the whole Bangkok story sitting in a public internet cafe, I thought that a brief primer on mating rites in Bhutan might be interesting.
The country itself is situated in the eastern Himalayas, between India and Tibet, just to the east of Everest. It is 100% Buddhist and is primarily interested in the Gross National Happiness Index, to measure how well the country is doing. Most of the economy is agrarian based, either farming rice, fruit in the south, yak herding, etc.
Most marriages are arranged, and somewhat informal. There is a practice called "Night Hunting" when guys go out and knock on a girls door or window. If she answers, it means she's interested in hooking up with him that night, and they repair to a shepherd's hut to spend the evening and see how things work out. Out of wedlock babies aren't frowned upon or shunned, and either a man or a woman can have multiple spouses. The king has four wives, all sisters, and they live separately from him. But a woman could have multiple men as well, as long as everyone is copacetic with the arrangement.
There is little AIDS, only 120 recognized cases, mostly brought in by travelling businessmen, and almost no prostitution, except in the border towns, because the sexual practices are so relaxed.
It's amazing how well everyone can get along when they're all on the same page.
Next week, One Night in Bangkok, when I return tyo the city.