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I got an email a week or so ago from an attractive young woman who apparently lives around here. She said she likes the way I think, and she wanted to know if I would be interested in having an affair with her. Way to cut to the chase, huh?

OK so I'm embellishing a little. She did say she was interested in an affair, but she managed to put it a little more eloquently than that. And since I'm becoming increasingly aware that there are a lot of unhappy married girls out there, it's not at all surprising that one of them might write such a pointed email to me.

But what did surprise me about this girl is that she said she is single.

Single?

Now what kind of attractive, young, single girl is going to be satisfied with married me? She would only be able to see me a couple times a month and even then for only a few hours at a time. I might often have to cancel at the last minute. We could rarely ever see each other during the day. Never on holidays. No company parties. No fancy hotels. No vacations together. And definitely no long-term commitment. In short, I would be the lousiest boyfriend ever.

So wrote back to her and explained all of this, to which she replied:

Mmmmm, I just think it's interesting what you think a single girl wants. I'm single for a reason. I'm looking for someone to have safe fun with sexually, someone who wants to experiment, and someone who makes me laugh. I like having sex, but I don't really want an endless string of one-night-stands. It doesn't mean I want the time commitment of a relationship, I just like to get to know people too. Does that help answer your questions? Maybe you should send me your screen name and we could chat this week...

I took Friday off instead of today because we were going out of town this past weekend and we figured we'd leave a day early and come home a day early, to avoid the rush. So we got back yesterday. And here I sit. At work. On a national holiday. In a way, it's nice. The office is very quiet today. I don't mind.

Except...

As I was leaving the house this morning, I told my wife that I would be happy to call it a day and come home early if she decided she wanted to do something fun. I suggested we could take the kids to the park. Or we could fire up the grill and have a BBQ on the deck. But now it's 4:20 and she still hasn't called. I doubt if she will.

The following search-engine queries have recently led people to this site:

• he fucked her hard on the stable floor
• bare tits under sweaters
• bikini water slide
• nude female
• eat her pussy
• red haired hotties
• pussy contest
• man sucking breasts
• my wife's always masturbating
• sat astride her face
• are there any sexy or erotic ways that I can take my girlfriend?
• exercising in the nude
• her squeezing vaginal muscle
• koochie
• naked bahamas girls
• wife boss bikini tease
• "wife is out of town" and "sister in law"
• see through when wet bathing suits
• masturbating with my wife
• sister swallowed cum blog
• 16 year old breast pics sex
• small breasted girls being fucked

What I think is funny, and what I really don't get, is how on earth does a generic query like "nude female" or "man sucking breasts" land on *my* site out of all the millions of sex-related web sites out there? And what the heck is a wife boss bikini tease? Sounds kinky...and somewhat intriguing.

And since when have I ever fucked anyone on a stable floor?

I am flattered, however, that a google search for "koochie" with no other qualifiers pulls up my site as the #1 hit. Every dog has his day, no?

Kim over at Private Booth reprinted one of my posts. That is way cool. Go check it out.

My wife informed me that she bid on, and won, ten hours of professional babysitting as part of a charity auction.

This is a good sign.

Ten hours of babysitting could get us three nights of dinner at a nice restaurant, two nights of dinner and a movie, or one mega-night of practically anything. Hmmm. I'm thinking hotel reservations, room service, jacuzzi...

Last night one of my favorite rock clubs hosted a rare, one-night-only indie-punk dance night and I decided to go check it out. Considering I'm not usually the biggest fan of dance music, this wasn't bad at all. Plus the crowd was friendly and the, uh, scenery was un-fucking-believably hot. I danced like an idiot for two hours from 11:30pm to 1:30am and had a great old time. Because I'm sort of trying to be at least somewhat faithful to my wife, I promised myself that I wouldn't ask any girls to dance with me, but that wasn't such a big deal since there were a lot of lone people dancing and having a good time as part of the general crowd. But now I'm wondering if next time I should ask the craigslist girl if she would like to go with me.

Two pretty girls caught my eye Wednesday evening.

One was walking along the side of the road with someone who was
probably her husband. I slowed down to get a better look at her,
crested a small hill, and there was a police car with a radar gun
pointed right at me. I looked down at my speedometer and realized I
was going exactly the speed limit. If I hadn't slowed down to check
out the girl, I might very well have gotten a ticket. So thanks,
little cutie, whoever you are. You made it a pleasant evening for me
in more ways than one.

The other girl was in the car to the right of me when we were both
stopped in traffic. I glanced over at her, but I don't think she
could see me. And then this guy in the car in front of her leans out
his window, looks back at her, and starts yelling something at her and
motioning with his hand for her to roll down her window. Intrigued, I
rolled down my passenger-side window to see if I could hear what he
was yelling about. And as she rolled down her window and stuck her
head out, the guy in front of her yelled at her one more time. And
this time we both heard it... "I love you!" She giggled and looked
kind of embarrassed, but there was a big smile on her face.
Obviously, they knew each other. I should remember to try that
someday if my wife and I are ever driving in separate cars.

Just friends.

The first time it's a handshake and a sincere smile.

The next time it's a light touch on the elbow and a look in the eyes
that lasts a little too long.

Then it's a slightly awkward hug.

Then a more comfortable hug.

On our fifth "date" I place my hands on your shoulders as I stand
behind you, looking over your head at the beautiful vista from the top
of the mountain we have just climbed together. I move in a little
closer and lean down, brushing my face ever so slightly against your
hair. You lean back against me and I move my hands onto your bare
shoulders and then down along your arms. We stay that way for a while
and I can feel the tension. The nervousness between us. The desire.
Then, slowly, you reach back and pull my arms around you, holding them
against your chest. Both of us savoring the togetherness. Our hearts
racing.

Ever wonder what I do when I'm not thinking about sex? Yeah, well, I'm gonna tell you anyway because I have nothing else better to write about. Think of it as a rare brief glimpse into the real life of KT.

By Thursday evening it had become pretty apparent that my wife had recovered from whatever illness it was that had caused her to recognize my existence on Wednesday evening. So Friday night I decided to go out and have at least a little bit of fun. I went downtown to a small club and saw a couple of local bands. The music was good, the crowd was friendly, and I had a good time. I even flirted briefly with a couple of girls who were way too young for me. I said *briefly*. Sheesh. Then around midnight I ventured into the hood for the best chili dog and cheese fries in town, and then headed back home, took a shower, and went to bed.

Saturday morning I mowed the lawn, got the week's groceries, got my wife's minivan inspected, flirted with a married and (this time) age-appropriate cutie at the gas station, added the ritual yearly springtime can of freon to the air conditioner of my old beater, and spent some time playing with my kids. Saturday evening I just stayed home and read a good book.

Sunday I stayed inside most of the day, playing with the kids and giving my bike a good thorough spring tuneup so that, hopefully, I can get back in the habit of riding it the fifteen miles to work at least a couple times a week. I'm thinking Wednesday will be the inaugural ride of the season.

And that's about it. That was my weekend, folks. Maybe I'll go read a few more pages in my book before I go to sleep.

I've been telling my wife that she needs to give me some sort of a
sign if she's interested in some hanky panky because after 8 years of
rejection I'm just not very likely to make the first move anymore.

So last night we didn't get much sleep, and for once it had nothing to
do with the kids keeping us up all night.

Around 10:30 I asked her if she was going to bed soon. She said yes
but that she had to take a shower first. And, knowing how long that
can take, I decided to go downstairs and go online for a bit.
Browsing through some emails and pictures, one thing led to another
and before long my boxers somehow became unbuttoned and I had myself
some fun that required a bit of clean-up.

I then went upstairs, slipped into bed, and turned off the light. My
wife was still in the shower. A little while later, as I was just
about to fall asleep, I saw her slip into bed totally naked. Now let
me tell you, maybe that's a common occurrence in your household, but
my wife NEVER goes to bed naked. Was that a sign? Hmmm. And as I
lay there contemplating it, wondering if I should make a move, she
kicked me.

Yeah. It was a sign, alright.

So it wasn't until after midnight that we finally went to sleep.

And then, around 4am she was up again, tossing and turning. She got
up and cranked the A/C colder by a few degrees and threw off the
blanket. She tossed and turned for a few more minutes and then
reached over, grabbed my hand, and placed it between her legs.

I'm thinking that was a sign, too.

So we did it all over again.

And then afterwards, as we were lying there in an embrace, me on my
back, and she next to me with her head on my chest, I got to thinking
about how my hot, naked, unusually-horny wife was lying there cuddling
with me, and dammit, I couldn't help myself. My hand slid down
between my legs and before long I was shaking with yet another bout of
yummy ecstasy as she held me tightly in her arms.

Finally around 5:00 we fell asleep again and just barely got up in
time for me to get my daughter to preschool.

My driver's license was set to expire later this month, so I went over
to the DMV this afternoon to get it renewed. I love going to the DMV
because where else do you just get to sit around for a while and look
at people who have nothing better to do but sit around and look back
at you?

So I was standing in line and there was this guy and a girl in front
of me, probably in their late 20's, and the guy had a cute little baby
boy in his arms. I was looking off in the other direction, probably
trying to find some cutie to make eyes with, when all of a sudden the
girl jumped, and when I looked back there was some sort of liquid
dripping off the baby's legs and onto the floor. Whatever it was
(drool? pee? vomit?) was all over the guy's arms too. I couldn't
help but chuckle a little because I could just see this happening to
me.

The girl ran off to the bathroom and came back with a toilet paper
roll and started blotting up the baby and the dad. I could tell they
were embarrassed (well, at least the guy and the girl were
embarrassed--the baby was clearly with me in seeing the humor of it
all). And then to make it worse (or even more funny, if you were me)
the girl dropped the toilet paper roll and it proceeded to roll all
the way across the DMV, unravelling in the process, and she had to run
after it, wadding the trail of toilet paper up in her hands.

When she returned with the huge wad of toilet paper in one hand and
the nearly-empty roll in the other hand she looked at me just as I was
in mid chuckle. I smiled at her, but she just gave me a look that I
took to mean, "I am not in the mood for flirting right now." Oh well.

What made the whole thing that much more interesting was that the girl
was so smokin' hot. Petite. Pretty, longish hair. Cute face, and an
amazing body. And her pink, very fitted, button-down shirt, tight
khaki capris, and sexy sandals didn't hurt either. Watching her hot
little body bent over, running after that toilet paper roll was just
priceless. I'm sure she hates me as the asshat who was getting a
chuckle out of her misfortune, but hey, the baby was laughing too,
right?

I'm intrigued by the fact that I've been masturbating with my wife's image in mind recently. That hasn't happened in a while. Mostly because I haven't been able to come up with a good, fresh, hot image of her in my mind. But in the last few weeks I've seen her naked and aroused on several occasions. And that makes for a very nice mental picture. And if I have a picture of her in my mind, I often find it much more arousing to use that picture when I get myself off, rather than a picture of some random, unknown girl I've downloaded off the web. But any given mental image only lasts a few days--after which it must be refreshed. I remember back when we were starting to think about having children, and my wife and I were playing around in bed almost every day of the week, I almost stopped masturbating altogether. Almost. And when I did masturbate, it was invariably her image that was in my mind. I told her this when we had our discussion a few weeks ago. I wonder if it turns her on to know that I'm thinking of her in that way. She doesn't seem to like talking about it (her repressive upbringing still has a very firm hold on her) so I'm never quite sure what she's thinking, but I know it would damn well turn me on if I knew she was jilling off while thinking about me. Unfortunately I'm almost certain that she never masturbates (there's that repressive upbringing again). That's something I wish she would work on. How can you have a good sexual relationship with a girl who doesn't even have an interest in getting herself off? Sometimes she does have erotic dreams at night, but they are few and far between. Anyway, I hope this latest trend keeps up. If I go more than a few days without some lovin' from my honey, my mind starts to wander. And we all know where that can lead.

Apparently there really is something magical about mulch. I never knew this. But after spending pretty much all day on Sunday hauling two massive loads of mulch home and then distributing it around the various flower beds in our yard (by myself, mind you), I was treated by my wife to a rare night of yummy naked fun. And when I say "treated" I mean that she even initiated it with absolutely no suggestion on my part--right down to the cute little Victoria's Secret thingy that she must have bought on her own because I sure don't remember buying it. Now granted, I did have to lie there in bed for about ten minutes while she worked up the nerve to make the first move. But still, once she went for it she was unstoppable. And I know I've said this before, but damn that girl is hot.

Unfortunately, it'll be another year before the flower beds need to be mulched again.

This guy has fucked 81 different girls, or so he claims, and has now set out to document each one, one every few days. Christ, I don't even think I've fucked my own wife 81 times, let alone 81 separate girls! Clearly I need to get out more often. Or at least, I should have gotten out more often before giving my life to one woman. What the hell was I thinking by getting married so young?

OK, you're right. I was in love.

Love will do that too you, won't it?

I hate being lonely on a Saturday night with my wife in the house but she's absorbed in something and isn't interested in being romantic. Three Saturdays in a row now. Next Saturday I should go out.

[Edit: I think SN's comment warrants a general response. Yes, I could suggest another movie night, and she'd probably be OK with it. But why do I always have to suggest everything? If I don't suggest a movie, it won't happen. If I don't suggest dinner, or dancing, or whatever, it just won't happen. After eight years I really feel like she just isn't interested in hanging out with me. And if she does agree to do something with me I feel like she's doing it out of some feeling of marital obligation. Or she's trying to avoid an argument about how we never spend time together. That's why I'd much rather go downtown and possibly end up dancing with some girl and maybe sneaking out of the club and going to a late-night cafe or something. At least I'd know she was interested in me. And that's why I had such a good time on Friday--because I knew that the girl I was with wanted to be with me just as much as I wanted to be with her.]