“So, about this spanking…”she queried from the other end of the couch. “Is it foreplay? Is it connected to sex?” She was grasping and trying to understand, so I opted not to tell her that it WAS sex. I launched into a mealy-mouthed explanation of how “some people like…” and on and on when all I wanted was her over my lap and her beauteous bare bottom pinkening under my hand.
Well, that didn’t happen. Settled for some vanilla belly bumping there on the couch and a few drinks afterward. She was beautiful. She was sweet. She didn’t get spanking. That’s fine. We didn’t see each other again.
I heard on the radio (so it must be true) that men think of sex 18 times per day. Seems light to me but does that cover continuous thought, do you think? If one thinks of sex or a sexual scenario for three hours straight is that only one time? If so, then 18 might be right.
Avid fisherman, hiker, biker, drinker, husband and father. Late blooming switch. My wife, who I really can’t call vanilla any more, can give as well as receive.
“Thou shalt not fail as a writer because the very act of writing is the best protection from the madness of the world”, purported to be Bukowski, but I didn’t hear him say it.
Every day provides opportunities to push the envelope a bit. I try not to miss any of them.
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