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Whenever we go out to eat at a restaurant I like to look around for some pretty woman who is out to dinner with her family. Maybe she's with her husband and kids, or maybe she's with her parents. And when I get up to use the restroom I'll be sure to walk past her table, pausing briefly if necessary to make sure she sees me looking at her. I'll have a little smirk ready on my face. She'll look up to see who's walking past the table and our eyes will make contact. She'll be caught off-guard. She'll smile briefly but then quickly turn away to see if her dad or husband is watching. By that time, I'm past the table and out of site. On the way back to my table the same thing will happen, but this time she'll look a little bit longer. Smile a little bit longer. I may briefly slow down again to savor our mental exchange, but then continue walking. She'll look away. When I'm past her table I'll turn my head around one more time and look behind me. She'll look up again. Our eyes will lock once again for a split second and then I'm gone. But I'll remember her for a long time. Funny how such a short exchange can stick in your mind for days, if not weeks.

My wife wears the same size t-shirt as my three-year-old daughter. I know because it's getting harder and harder to sort the laundry when it comes to shirts, and the other day I accidentally put one of my daughter's shirts in my wife's pile. When she pointed out that it wasn't hers I held it up against one of her shirts and I swear they were exactly the same size. Of course the shirts are kind of loose on my daughter and they're stretchy and tight on my wife, but the only real difference is that my wife's shirts say "Misses Small," "Misses X-Small," or sometimes "Juniors Small," whereas my daughter's shirts say "Children's Small." There's something really hot about a grown woman wearing a shirt that probably ought to be on a child. The way it rides up her midriff, stretches snug around her breasts, and the cap sleeves cling tightly to her arms above her biceps. There certainly isn't much left to the imagination.

I added a link to the No Marriage website although I don't necessarily agree with everything this guy has to say. He is really down on marriage. He blames American women for the high divorce rate and suggests that if you are a man who wants to have a successful marriage you should consider marrying a South American or Russian woman instead. The thing is, I think the American man is just as much to blame for the failure of marriage. In fact, it is our whole society that is to blame. Although maybe "blame" isn't really the right word. The real issue is that marriage as we know it is outdated. It was designed to deal with problems that existed years ago such as a lack of good birth control and the inability for a woman to earn her own money and support herself. But does that mean that marriage is useless nowadays? Hardly. I think marriage is still the best method we have for providing a stable upbringing for our children, including both a male and a female role model. And although I'm still far from becoming a senior citizen, I think that marriage probably provides some important benefits as we get older, including stable support and companionship. Unfortunately the parts of marriage that relate to sex and money are causing much of the divorces we see these days, and this in turn is tearing apart the remaining benefits of marriage. It's especially the sex that is at fault. It simply doesn't make any sense to assume that one person will be able to meet all of your sexual needs for the rest of your life. People need variety. As much as we fear change, we crave it too. Something needs to be done, and marrying a South American woman, while it may solve an individual man's problem, is certainly not going to address the societal problem at large. I don't have many answers, just a big pile of questions. Nonetheless, anyone, male or female, who is contemplating marriage might do well to at least think about the warning on the No Marriage web site.

Ah, that's more like it. Sunshine this morning, 70 degrees, and a good time at the party last night. I saw friends I haven't seen in years, and there were a lot of really cute girls there too. One girl in particular who recognized me from the last party was looking particularly nice this time. I took her outside for a while, and we sat on the steps and talked. She lives in the city which, depening on traffic and time of day, can be as much as an hour and a half from my house in the suburbs, so there's really very little chance that we could get together on a regular basis. And on top of that she's moving away to go to grad school in the fall. Still, it was nice to hang out alone with a girl for a change and have some nice conversation.

Now I've gotta see if I can take advantage of this nice day. Maybe my daughter and I will go for a walk in the woods. That's always a good time.

I'm in kind of a funk this evening. It's friday but it's rainy and I'm bored. I wish there was something going on tonight, but all of my friends are either out of town, too tired, or too busy to do anything. So I'll probably just hang out here at home and listen to some music. I'm going to a party at a friend's house tomorrow, though. So there's that to look forward to. Maybe there'll be some cute girls there.

Anybody interested in chatting? I've been holding back until now because I'm not sure if I'll even be available to chat very often. Mostly in the evening I guess, after the kids and my wife have gone to bed. So if you're up and you see me online and want to chat, please feel free. I'm probably more interested in conversation than cybersex, but that could just be a product of my funky mood this evening. Oh, and don't take it the wrong way if I suddenly log off. It could be my wife. Email me and I'll give you my IM address.

In a recent comment, Murphy called me a stallion. If you go by how horny I am then definitely, I'm a whole fucking cavalry. But it got me to thinking about how good I really am in bed these days. Can I still keep it up for hours at a time? Can I shoot my load and be ready for another round within a few minutes? It's been years since I've been with a girl who really wanted to go at it all night long. And hence it's been a long time since I've had an opportunity to really test the limits of my sexual prowess--other than by myself, which doesn't really count. If I'm at the computer, surfing for porn, I can stay hard almost indefinitely. But that's with me knowing exactly what to do with my hand. Sometimes, in fact, if I've been surfing long enough I have to finish myself off on purpose because my cock starts to hurt from being erect for so long. Interestingly, those orgasms, the ones I get after masturbating for an hour or more at the computer, are some of the best I've ever known. I need the name-brand paper towels for those ones. Brawny--For Big Spills (tm). But I digress. The point is, I wish I knew how good I would be if I somehow found myself in bed with a hottie who really wanted to be fucked long and hard.

As I've gotten to know some of my fellow bloggers, especially the girls, it has become apparent that I really long for a female friend with whom I can share some time in person. Someone who lives nearby and is funny, flirty, intelligent, and interested in sharing some conversation about life, love, sex, kids, and whatever else comes to mind. But then I get to thinking that such a relationship would have to be discrete because my wife would never understand. We'd have to sneak our meetings. We'd go for walks in the park. We'd meet for breakfast at the little outdoor cafe that makes great omelets. We'd stop in at the pub for a couple drinks after work. And then I wonder about sex. Would we be tempted to go all the way? Would we set limits? Would we adhere to them? It's something I'd like to explore.

Today I jerked off at my desk at work and almost got caught. It all started when I dropped my car off at the dealership this morning for some service and got a loaner to drive for the day. The girl who set me up with the loaner was really cute, friendly, and kind of flirty. She was asking about my kids and telling me that I looked like I got some sun yesterday, which I did. She walked me over to the loaner car and then noticed that it was a little dirty so she offered to wash it. I said sure, thinking that she would have one of the techs run it through the automatic washer, but instead she whipped out a hose and started washing it herself! She got a little wet, which only made her look even more cute. So of course I started to fantasize about going down on her in the back seat of the loaner car right there in back of the dealership, and by the time I got to work I was so worked up I had to drop my bag off in my office and headed straight for the restroom. But to my dismay all the stalls were taken. Not sure what to do, I went back to my office. My office-mate was out of the room and I just could not wait another second so I sat down at my desk, grabbed a napkin, and shoved it down into my pants, wrapping it around my dick. With one hand down in my pants and my shirt carefully drapped over it I began to pump furiously. In my mind I had the girl from the dealership lying down on the back seat of the car, with one leg up on the back of the seat and the other leg on the floor. Her pussy was just as pretty as the rest of her, and I was lapping her up like a puppy dog. After a couple of minutes I started to shake in my swivel chair. I was coming and there was nothing I could do to stop it. All of a sudden I shot my load, drenching the napkin just as my office-mate walked in the door. Dammit! I froze and pretended to examine my computer screen. I don't think he noticed anything, but I could feel some cum starting to leak through the napkin and down my leg, so I bolted up and ran back to the bathroom. Thankfully, there was a free stall this time. Upon examination I realized that things weren't quite as bad as they could have been. My boxers had a small wet mark about the size of a quarter, but my pants were spared. The napkin, however, was a total loss.

I think it was about six or seven years ago I rememeber driving through a hip section of the city. We were in bumper to bumper traffic as is often the case in that part of town and I turned to watch two hot teenage girls walking down the sidewalk together. Just then they turned to face each other, leaned close, and kissed on the lips. They smiled at each other, one of them grabbed the other's hand, and they continued walking down the street together, hand in hand. As tame as it sounds, it is still burned in my mind as one of the hottest lesbian encounters I've ever seen. The girls were so pretty and they looked so happy and... in love. To this day I still touch myself when I think of it.

Early morning, still in bed:
I want to kiss her hard nipples and flat tummy and fill her little body with my aching cock.
She wants to get an extra hour of sleep.

As I'm heading out the door to work:
I want her to grab me from behind, pull down my pants, suck me off, and then kiss me goodbye so I can taste my cum on her tongue.
She wants to tidy up the foyer.

Lunchtime:
I want to come home and spend my lunch hour fucking her with the windows open so the neighbors can hear.
She wants to go to the mall and look for some new shoes.

In the driveway, arriving home from work:
I want to grab her hand and lead her out back behind the shed, pull off her tank top, and make out with her like a school kid.
She wants to pull some weeds in the mulch bed.

After dinner:
I want to bend her over the sink, pull up her skirt, and take her from behind like an animal.
She wants to clean up the dishes.

In bed again, end of the day:
I want to bury my face in her pussy and make her scream as I coat my face with her sweet juices.
She's tired and wants to go to sleep.

She knows my desires. We've talked about it many times. She knows I'm constantly hot for her. She enjoys making love. But for her sex is something you do after the chores are all done. After you've gotten enough sleep. She can't get horny unless the conditions are ideal. For me sex is something you do before anything else. Whenever you get the urge. Regardless of the conditions. We're just different that way. We have different priorities. I don't fault her for it. But the fact is that the chores will never be all done. And with tiny kids in the house we will probably never get enough sleep. The conditions will never be ideal.

I wouldn't be surprised if a lot of marriages fail because the marriage is expected to be the only place where companionship and sexual fulfillment can be obtained. That's a lot of pressure. Half of all marriages end in divorce, and at least another quarter are probably people who can't stand each other but are too afraid to get a divorce. I can't help but think that many of these marriages could be saved or improved if only we weren't so rigid in our definition of what can and cannot take place outside of the marriage.

If you and your spouse provide a happy home for your children, a comfortable place to come home to at the end of the day, and a retirement nest-egg for your senior years, but for whatever reason you are unable to provide for each other's sexual needs, then why shouldn't you be able to seek those needs outside of your marriage? Or maybe you love to go dancing, but your spouse has two left feet and no interest in it. Shouldn't you be able to go dancing with a sexy friend? Maybe you like to watch artsy foreign films, but your spouse prefers the mainstream stuff. Is there anything wrong with having a movie partner of the opposite sex? Maybe you like to go hiking or biking, but your spouse isn't very athletic. Is there anything wrong with having an attractive sports partner? Maybe your sex life is good, but your partner just isn't into oral. Would it be wrong to have an occasional 69 buffet with your dance partner. Or your artsy film partner? Or your hiking partner?

These kinds of activities can really provide a much-needed pressure-release for a marriage that is otherwise solid. But not being allowed to do these things can only lead to frustration, anger, and divorce. If you love each other and are committed to sticking with each other for emotional and financial support, and if you are committed to providing a quality upbringing for any kids you might have, then I don't see how a little leniency in the fulfillment of personal desires could possibly hurt. Maybe you're worried about ruining your relationship, but I think you're much more likely to ruin your relationship by creating boundaries and obstacles that keep your spouse from achieving happiness.

Alas, my wife thinks this is all horseshit. So if I were to ever participate in some sort of "indiscretion," I would have to do so without her knowledge. Telling her about it would make it much worse, and the stress I would feel from her anger would surely overshadow any happiness that I might achieve from being with another woman. Discussions we've had in the past have made it painfully clear to me that she would never be open to any kind of extra-marital activities no matter how frustrated I might get at the lack of such activities within our own relationship.

So I would do it on the sly. But I would do it with the personal conviction that what I was doing was ultimately the best thing for me, my wife, and our children.

I was watching a video clip the other day in which this girl ejaculates during an orgasm. I have heard about this, but never actually seen it before. It was wild. This pretty blond girl is lying down naked on a hardwood floor, masturbating. And after a couple minutes she comes and squirts a stream of liquid out onto the floor. What is this stuff? Is it lubricating fluid that gets squeezed out of the vagina? I have no idea, but it sounds like fun. And what a shock it would be to get shot in the face if you're eating a girl's pussy. I'm not sure if I would be turned on or grossed out, but seeing as how I like to get my face all wet anyway when giving oral sex, I think I might actually enjoy it. But that begs a question for you girls out there: What do you like to do when you give a guy oral sex? Do you spit it out? Swallow? Do you like him to pull out and squirt you in the face?

My hot sister-in-law just gave my wife a sexy nightie from Victoria's Secret. Now if only I could get both of them in bed at the same time...

Out for a family drive this weekend, I noticed that my wife had fallen asleep in the passenger seat. She wasn't wearing anything special--just a pair of shorts and a baby-T. But even so, she looked so beautiful sitting there asleep in the car. Her cute face, peaceful and relaxed. Her bare legs and arms, spread out slightly. Seductively. Her shorts riding up high on her pretty thighs. The way the small, stretchy t-shirt hugged her chest. The way her hair fell down around her shoulders.

But even more than that was the stuff that other people wouldn't notice. The fact that she is the kindest, most warm-hearted person I have ever met. The fact that she is an incredible mom to our kids. Her silly sense of humor. Seeing her asleep there--cute, sexy, funny, smart, loving--just reminded me of how much I love her. It's such a shame that medical problems have made it so difficult for her to have intercourse. If it wasn't for that, I think we would have a perfect relationship.

OK, how twisted am I? I just rubbed one out while admiring the little icon on Kelwhy's site with the blond chick in the little pink dress.

The other day I did the same to Vortexia's boobs and GFD's flat stomach, but at least those were actual photographs.

This thing on Kelwhy's site is just a little cartoon icon. I am just WAY too horny as of late.

I think I have writer's block, although I don't really consider myself much of a writer. It's hard to come up with new material for a sex blog when you're not actually having any sex. If I wasn't so busy right now I'd probably be IM'ing with some girl, which would probably give me some new material, but even that's on hold for the time being.

The closest I've gotten to any action in the past week was a couple of girls who smiled at me at the grocery store. It was enough to help me rub one out when I got home, but that's about it.

Does anybody know what happened to Philip Clark?

Sometimes I wonder what it feels like to be a girl and to have a man ejaculate inside of you. And I wonder how many sexually active girls have really experienced it. Obviously, most married women know what it feels like, but in this day and age of safe sex and condoms I wonder if the typical single girl has ever really felt a warm load of cum spurting deep into her vagina, unencumbered by a condom. And I wonder, for those girls who have experienced it, whether it was during a moment of poor judgment, perhaps fueled by alcohol or drugs, such that you may not even really remember it very well. On the rare occasions when my wife and I have had intercourse, she has commented that it is really a neat feeling to be filled up with warm fluid, and she also enjoys the sensation of it dripping out afterwards and down her leg. Of course, for a guy the feeling of sex without a condom is extremely nice. Almost nice enough to justify a monogamous relationship. Almost.

There was one particularly legendary high-school party that I didn't make it to because I was out of town with my family. But my best friend related the story to me. Apparently it was a bathing suit pool party at the house of this one rich blonde chick in our class. Her parents, of course, were out of town. Apparently the cops eventually showed up and when they did they discovered that every guy in the place had a bikini top tied around his neck, and every girl in the place was conspicuously bare-chested. Unfortunately the girl who lived there got in big trouble and her parents ended up kicking her out of the house. She subsequently dropped out of school and vanished. Years later when we were in college I ran into her in a supermarket. She seemed kind of detached and unfriendly, but at least she was still alive.

At first I was gonna post a different story, but since it's prom season and all the dads out there are worried about whether their teenage daughters are going to get boinked on prom night, I thought I might relate the story of what happened at my high-school senior prom.

The girl I wanted to ask to the prom got snatched up by some other guy because I didn't get my act together early enough, so I ended up asking a girl who was really just an acquaintance. I knew her from calculus class, but had never really spoken to her much. The prom itself turned out to be kind of lame, but since we had nowhere else to go we toughed it out to the end--by which time we had both come to the mutual decision that we had no interest in each other. As the prom drew to a close, it became apparent that everyone was going to one of two after-prom parties. She and her friends wanted to go to one party, and my friends and I wanted to go to the other, so we said our goodbyes and went our separate ways. No hard feelings.

And boy was I glad I had ditched her. The after-prom party was a blast. My high-school was in a big city, and one of the kids in my class lived in a big house downtown. Somehow he had managed to get rid of his parents for the evening, and everyone in our senior class had been invited to his house for the after-prom event. I think at least half of the class showed up. There were no chaperones of any kind, and he somehow managed to obtain about 20 kegs of beer.

Yes, folks. A class of high-school students. A big house all to ourselves. No adults. Plenty of alcohol. Needless to say we all had a blast and got totally smashed. It was out of control. The music was loud. Guys were smoking pot. Girls were doing lines of coke in the bathroom. Kids were making out everywhere, running around chasing each other up and down the stairs. It was total bedlam.

Eventually the kegs were kicked and the party started to die down. It seemed like a good time to leave, so a group of my friends and I stumbled out onto the street wondering how we would get home. We were just about to flag down a taxi when all of a sudden this girl, whom I'll call Amie, announced that her father had gotten her a room for the night at some fancy downtown hotel only a couple blocks away and she wanted to know if any of us would like to join her. This chick's father was either incredibly naive or incredibly stupid. She claimed he got her the room so she wouldn't end up riding home in a car with some drunk kid behind the wheel. I guess it never occurred to him that some drunk kid might end up riding her in the hotel room. Amie had a prom date with her, but by this point he was looking pretty wasted, and for some reason she didn't seem all that keen on going to the hotel alone with him.

Not counting Amie and her date, there turned out to be four takers for the hotel room: me and three of Amie's female friends. To this day I don't remember what happened to the rest of my friends or why they didn't seem to want to join me at the hotel, but I suppose that's irrelevant. Slowly, the six of us stumbled down the street, into the hotel, through the lobby, past the fountain, up in the glass-enclosed elevator, and into the room, singing, shouting, and bumping into each other the whole way.

By the time we got to the room it had become pretty clear that Amie's date was in no condition to do anything except slump to the floor at the foot of the bed and stay there, passed out. We placed the rubber bath mat under his head, and a trash can within reach. The other three girls all piled into one of the beds, and that left me and Amie to share the other bed. We flopped down on the bed together and were so tired and smashed that we just fell sound asleep.

The next morning I woke up to a strange sensation. Someone was tracing a finger across my face. I opened my eyes and it was Amie. Everyone else in the room seemed to still be asleep, but Amie was clearly wide awake. She traced her finger around my forehead, my cheeks, my chin, and then slowly slid her finger into my mouth. Not knowing exactly what to do, I licked her finger and then started to suck. The salty taste of her skin was new to me, and kind of interesting. After about a minute or so of this, she pulled her finger out and planted her lips on mine. She wasted no time getting her tongue into my mouth, and before I knew it we were sucking, nibbling, and exploring each others mouths with a combination of fierce passion and goofy awkwardness that is the hallmark of high-school romance. It was around this time that I remembered that her date was probably still on the floor at the foot of the bed. I pulled away momentarily to look, but as I tried to sit up she planted her palm squarely on my chest and pushed me back down on the bed. And then, as if to underscore the fact that I was not to get up again, she climbed on top of me and once again started searching for my tonsils with her tongue.

By this point I was starting to get the idea, and so I reached up and started to do a little exploration of my own. Amie was not lacking in the curves department, and as I started to stroke the sides of her breasts, she lifted herself up a little so I could get my hands underneath them. For a high-school guy who didn't have much experience in this area it sure felt nice to have my hands full. Both of us were still dressed in our prom attire, and seeing as how we were sharing the room with four other sleeping people, there wasn't much that we could discretely take off, lest someone should wake up and get a view. But we were still under a sheet, and when she grabbed my hand and shoved it down under her dress and into her crotch I realized that she had already gone to the liberty of removing her nylons, leaving just a small pair of cotton panties.

Never having touched a pussy before I was curious about the way it felt through her underwear. I traced my finger along the line of her slit, and gently massaged the area where I could feel her small mound of hair. Then, slowly, I slid one finger under the elastic. All the while, she was still on top of me, and we were still furiously kissing. But when she felt my finger slide into her panties she let out a muffled "mmmm" and rolled off of me onto her back, spreading her thighs. Propping myself up on my elbow I then watched her face as I slid my finger deeper into her underwear and into the folds of her labia. "Wow, it's so wet," I thought to myself, and I started to stroke her up and down. Before long she started to writhe around and was lifting her hips up to press her pussy harder into my hand. "Kiss me," she hissed, so I bent down to kiss her and instantly her tongue was back in my mouth. She then made a squealing sound and her whole body tensed up. She grabbed my head with both hands and pressed my mouth hard into hers while grinding her pussy hard against my hand. For a few seconds she kept her grip on my head and then, letting out a huge puff of air from her lungs, she let go and collapsed on the bed, panting like a dog. Amazingly, everyone else in the room was still sound asleep.

When I finally did get home that morning it was about 7am. My Mom heard me come in and came out of her bedroom to ask how it went. I said I had a good time and she seemed satisfied with that. I went into my room, took off the tux, flopped down in my bed, and yanked one out like I had never yanked before.