It Has Been Awhile

Sorry it has been so long since I last posted. G has Alzheimer’s. I noticed it several years ago in very subtle changes and it has advanced pretty much as the research told me to expect. I won’t go into all that but I wanted those of you who have taken an interest in this little blog to know what is happening. I haven’t written because the blog was a joint endeavor and, when she could no longer participate, I wasn’t comfortable continuing alone. Besides, those first four or five posts say everything that needs saying.

Please know that there is a lot of her still here for both her and me to enjoy but it is sad to see it slip away. I cherish what is left and try to keep her feeling safe and comfortable, loved and appreciated. It is sometimes difficult to step in when she is just not able to do the things she has always done without seeming arrogant or dismissive or disrespectful of her. She is fragile. Dealing with medical issues and Doctors’ visits is extremely difficult.

Even so, she has retained her wonderful sense of humor. She can clearly recall things that happened long ago as well as or better than I. In stores and Doctors Offices, she finds ways to compliment strangers about their children or their clothing or their hair style and they always respond well. Her social skills are intact. Early in the blog, we wrote about the advantages of having a shared history so that we have shared memories. There are no parts of our lives when we were not together. That is very important now. I wish it for all of you.

Even though G is ill, she is still my sweetheart and the light of my life. We enjoyed all the phases of our life together and this one is no different. She enjoys my attention and my sense of humor and I, hers’. The emotion I feel most is, of course, sadness. I miss those elements of her that are already gone so I try to focus on the ones that remain. She is still quite sexual. She has not lost those skills nor her enthusiasm for using them and I have not lost my appreciation of those skills or my enthusiasm for them.

I have little time to write these days but, I will continue to look forward to hearing from you. My email is Thanks for your kind words. The only thing I have to offer, now, is my wish that you have a wonderful life.

The Post Covid Post

The blog is attracting readers from all over the world and I appreciate the consistent and, apparently, diverse readership.  Your comments are always welcome because, without them, I don’t really know who you are or what you are looking for.  If leaving a public comment is uncomfortable for you, you can always email me at ““.  Whatever you write will be between us and I will respond as quickly as possible.  

The essence of this blog is contained in the first four posts so, if this is your first visit, scroll down to them.  I promise you that they will not be like anything you have found on the subject of living a sexually successful life.  Those four posts will show you a whole new way to see things – and will hopefully open a slew of new possibilities for you and your partner.  G and I hope they help.

As I write this, G and I have both had two shots of Moderna vaccine and are slowly re-entering the world around us.  We are wearing masks of course and maintaining the proper social distancing but we can now walk into stores and restaurants we have avoided for more than a year.  We can now leisurely browse the shelves of the grocery store and actually pick out our own produce.  What we are finding – both within ourselves and in those familiar faces we have sorely missed and who are also venturing out for the first time – is a strange new energy.  A sense of wonder.  A deeper appreciation.  A tremendous sense of relief and release.  

And, along with the freedom to move around again, we’re finding ourselves bound by schedules and appointments – something that we just haven’t had to deal with very much while sequestered.  We’re catching up on doctors visits, getting the cars inspected and serviced, the tires rotated, replacing things that broke or wore out and all those little things that were not quite worth the risk before.  The simple truth is that we’ve been living like college students and have become accustomed to it.  Comfortable with it.  Reluctant to give it up.  

Part of that, I’m sure, is the fact that Spring is moving into this part of the world.  Out here in the North Carolina forest, the birds are singing, the squirrels are playing “catch me- catch me”, the sun is warm on my skin and the rain has a new and familiar softness as it falls lightly on my bald spot.  I am looking forward to that very short one or two-day period when the young leaves are translucent and the sunshine through them and reflecting off them gives the whole world a fresh green glow. It has a magic quality.

Part of coming out of the pandemic and escaping the pandemic mentality requires some retrospective.  A year ago, G and I went into this very strange experience with a history of depending on each other and working together.  We knew how to entertain ourselves and each other.  We are friends. We have senses of humor that overlap so we can laugh together.  We share a mutual respect and admiration.  We have either smoothed the rough edges or we have learned to enjoy them.  

Last night, as we were in bed listening to Cannonball Adderly in the dark, we wondered how couples who don’t have those positive elements in their relationships – and were unable to create them – have faired.  A year of togetherness would be a hard road for those who have not embraced the relationship.  It’s going to be fascinating to see how all the waves and ripples this period of time have generated will play out over time.  We hope you guys made it through and came out with some wonderful memories.    

And, finally, I had a red sports car while G and I were dating back in High school.  It was old and British and pretty much a piece of junk but it was fun.  So, a couple of weeks ago for my 79th birthday, we bought ourselves another one.  This one is a bit newer and Japanese which means it is safe and reliable and great fun to drive.  Of course, it’s a convertible. And of course, it’s red.  

Thanks for checking back in.  

Blog Post 13 – The Vaccines Are Coming!

If you are new to this strange little blog, please scroll down and start with the first post.  That and the three that follow contain the gist of what we have to offer.  I promise you that it won’t be like anything you have ever read about sex.  

If you’ve been here before, I just wanted to let you know that G and I are well and happy.  We are avoiding contact as much as possible and waiting for the vaccine to become available.  It’s difficult to say when that will be but we’re hoping to have both shots and be seething with Covid 19 antibodies by my birthday in March so that we can restore some normalcy to our lives.  Meanwhile we are comforted by Father Pfizer and Mother Moderna.  

When we are safe and can move freely through the world again we are going to visit family and friends we haven’t seen in months, eat at our favorite restaurants, maybe buy a little red sports car and head down to Florida to visit friends and look up some birds we haven’t seen in far too long.  (If you’re a birder, you will understand that sentence.)  We’re going to stay a night or two in the small, central-Florida town of Micanopy and walk around under those huge old Live Oak trees draped in Spanish Moss waving in a soft warm breeze and, then, rent us a place for a few days overlooking the ocean which we haven’t seen, heard or smelled in far too long.  

We been talking about the relationship between pleasure and pain and thought a post on the subject might be interesting – specifically as that relationship applies to orgasms.

Early on in the blog, we wrote about the two kinds of orgasms I have – cumorgasms and pure – and about G’s wonderful ability to pop them off so easily, but all that was a pretty simple discussion of what is probably a very complicated subject.  My (and G’s) orgasms vary tremendously in intensity and I’m certain that there is a wide variety of responses among you readers – all of which are perfectly normal – so feel free to relate this to your own experiences.

Our premise, here, is that our bodies’ appear to react very much the same to pleasure and to pain – especially intense pleasure and intense pain.  Orgasms generally occur when repeated and/or sustained stimulation is given to the most sensitive parts of our bodies – her clitoris and my glans and the highly sensitive membranes adjacent to both.  As we become more adept at being lovers, we learn how to provide that stimulation in ways that maximize pleasure.  We also learn how to control the orgasmic impulse within ourselves as it intensifies in order to delay or speed up the orgasm.  That’s what makes it possible to enjoy simultaneous orgasms – which is always a treat.  We not only become more adept at giving orgasms but also in controlling our own.   

    What interests G and me, in relation to this post, is the fact that, at the moment of orgasm  – the moment when the involuntary contractions begin – we each appear to be in pain.   We even sound as if we were in pain. The sheer intensity of the pleasure becomes so great that we are compelled to end it as quickly as possible.  Both G and I have to stop and protect our clitoris/glans from any further stimulation for a few minutes after orgasm.  Withdrawal is almost violent.    

The question G and I have been discussing as we lay there recovering, is this: is the intense pleasure we experience at the moment of orgasm a form of pain?  Do we keep repeating it over a lifetime because we learn early on that it will subside and the pleasure far outweighs the “pain”?   Think about it and, if you are so inclined, leave a comment or send me an email at    I don’t know if this relationship between pleasure and pain is important but it’s interesting.  

There is a related example of very different emotions manifesting themselves physically in the same way.  Our laughter and our crying are very different experiences but others who see us laughing or crying might not be able to tell which we are doing.  Intense sadness or joy manifest themselves very much alike.  

And, finally, this pandemic has been a lot of things – a very strange way to spend one of the latter years of my life – but it has certainly been interesting.  We have learned a lot about our countries, our neighbors, our relatives and ourselves.  That, alone, can make us stronger.   

Thank you for your time here.  G and I hope you find something you can use to help you create and sustain a good life for yourself.  Stay safe and don’t forget how to play.

The Mighty Hips of Joy Update

*If you are new to this blog, please scroll down to the beginning and start there. Thanks

Happily G is now almost three weeks with her new hip and is doing extremely well.  She is actually walking around like a normal person – which is wonderful to see after watching her hobble with that ruined old hip for months.  As you may recall, she was ready to schedule the hip replacement surgery a couple of months ago with another doctor before he came into the exam room without a mask complaining that “This Corvid 19 crap is messing up my surgery schedule”.  We had to ditch him.  Fortunately, with the help of friends, we found a better surgeon over in Greensboro, NC. 

The surgery went well. The hospital took every precaution to keep the pandemic away from patients and visitors so we are happy with both the process and the results.  She is controlling the pain with low doses of acetaminophen and we are doing her Physical Therapy routine together.  Three times a day – no excuses.  She can now take showers without any help – which is more a relief for her than for me – and I always greet her as she steps out with warm towels fresh from the dryer.  She loves that.  It makes her feel good.  She wraps them around herself and smiles.  It gives her pleasure and I enjoy giving her pleasure.  That’s what lovers do.

By the way, G has always gotten prickly skin when I touch her sexually.  I recently learned that the prickliness is called “emotional goosebumps” or “piloerections”.  Dr. Matthew Sachs in Biological Psychology (a little name dropping here) says that one of the personality traits associated with piloerections is “openness to experience”.  That’s my G.  

Take care of yourselves and be happy.  

Pandemic Thoughts and Observations

G and I are staying as safe as possible as the Corona Virus has begun to establish new ground here in the rural south.  I don’t know anyone who has the virus but I know someone who knows someone who has it so we’re down to just 2 degrees of separation.   We are avoiding places where people congregate and are wearing the best quality masks we can find when we have to be around the mouth breathers.   

We were set to go on a European River Cruise in April and had planned a couple of cross-country road trips in the camper for this summer. We were going to visit the original sources of American music on one trip. The Clinch Mountains of Tennessee, then on to Nashville and Memphis. From Memphis, we were going to drive down Highway 61 through the Mississippi Delta to Louisiana. Then back up through Muscle Shoals. Traditional Appalachian Mountain music, bluegrass, Country, Blues, Jazz, Zydeco and Rock and Roll. The other cross-country was going to be a birding trip. Maybe someday!

These are odd times.  Scary but interesting to watch the true nature of my nation emerging under duress.  The ugly flaws are popping out. But, also, the strengths.  And, this conflict is playing out in the streets of our cities while a global pandemic is raging around us completely out of control.  That’s America.  You know how we are.

On a day-to-day personal level, G and I are doing well.  She is in a lot of pain from a worn out hip joint but is scheduled to receive a new one in about three weeks.  I told her she wore her hips out humping on me.  I’m amazed they have lasted as long as they did! They were strong and hungry hips.  Shaped perfectly.  Eager.  Always ready to roll up and slide me in.  A perfect fit.  I call them her “heavenly hips of joy”.  

Pain has severely limited her ability to move those heavenly hips of joy, though.  Her most comfortable position is stationary, flat on her back with her legs together.  Not the position of choice, for her.  Never was.  Luckily, she has always enjoyed my hands on her body as much as I enjoy putting them there so we spend time every night laying in bed, her head on my chest so that my left hand is free to move over her breasts.  It’s my seventeen-year-old-boy dream come true and I love it.  I put some interesting music on and light the candle and we listen and talk – and I touch her gently and get her perfume (Chanel # LickMyClit) on my hands so I can enjoy the fragrance and her warmth.  

We talk about all kinds of things but, as we have gotten older, we talk more about our life – the people we have known, the people we have been, the vehicles we’ve owned (I’m a car guy), places we’ve lived, friends we have left behind, pets we’ve shared our life with, times we were brave and times we were lucky and we realize how incredibly fortunate we were to have found each other and not fuck it up. 

Looking back on a lifetime is an interesting exercise.  We see a lifetime of choices – mostly made with far too little information.  Situations came at us out of the blue and, often, the things we hardly noticed are the things that have come to mean the most.  And, we’ve been incredibly lucky.  One of the things we are most grateful for is having our sexuality as a strong and constant factor in all those places and times and situations that came out of the blue.  Our sexuality has added a brightness and lightness to all of it and has become even more valuable as we have aged.  

Its not all laying there, talking and feeling of titties, though.  I can move around into positions that make me accessible but still comfortable for her, and she has invented a new experience for both of us.  She focuses her attention on my glans and the adjacent sweet meat until I am very close to having a pure orgasm and, at the perfect moment, she takes my dick deep in her mouth and holds it. She knows my responses – muscular, breathing patterns and the noises I am making – well enough to time that last move perfectly.  When she takes me in and pauses, it stops the orgasm.  After we have repeated that sequence four or five times and I just can’t take it anymore, the orgasm explodes.  It’s a different experience – a different rhythm.  Never felt anything like that before.

I’m 78, now, and she is almost 76 and we’re still finding new pleasures.  The people who tell you sex is for young folks and when you get old……well, you know.  Don’t let them lower your expectations.    

When G’s new hip is mended, I am going to pay some of that pleasure back.  I miss tasting her.   So does she.

Another subject:  We watched a Wanda Sykes performance on Netflix tonight.  We both like her very much.  One of her routines involved menopause and G and I talked about our experiences with her menopause – how we both perceived it, how it affected us.  It was really no big deal, at all.  She had hot flashes regularly but, aside from that, things were pretty much normal.  Of course, she gradually stopped getting instantly juicy and we used a lubricant for awhile until the aging process took away my ability to rise to any occasion and stand at attention for a long time.  After that, we found other ways to fuck.  

The point of telling you this is that, while she was having hot flashes, I had them, too.  Not as many as she had and not as intense but still very noticeable.  I wonder if the fact that we continued to have a lot of sex during her menopause – to exchange bodily fluids and aerosols and chemicals and electrical impulses – might have caused my hot flashes.  Have any of you has similar experiences with menopause?  

We have spent part of every evening for the last week trying to see comet Neowise.  We have been meeting friends shortly after dark at a big cemetery with a 360 degree low horizon but this is the season of thunderstorms every evening.  However, four nights ago, the silvery wisp popped out between two rain clouds long enough to give us a 15 second view through binoculars.  Smaller than I expected but brighter.  Two nights ago, (July 26, 2020), we saw it from our meadow here on the farm.  Very dim in the moonlight but visible.  

I am not religious but looking at the night sky always makes me aware that I am part of something much bigger than I can possibly comprehend.  Something that literally created me using the immutable commandments of science – physics, geometry, math, biology, all of it.  Is it all just a coincidence without meaning or purpose?  Maybe, but if it is, its one hell of a coincidence and it has meaning and purpose to me so I intend to enjoy it.  

Science also gives me hope of a form of eternal life because, in an infinite universe that lasts forever, it seems to me that everything that can possibly happen and every possible combination of things that can possibly happen, will happen an infinite number of times.  If that’s true, we will all be back here doing exactly this.  Gonna take awhile, though.   

Another subject:  I have been asked about the use of drugs to enhance sex.  My only drug experiences have been with alcohol and marijuana.  If I drink enough alcohol to affect what I’m doing, it makes me feel perfectly awful the next day so I tend to drink very lightly.  There have been times in my life when I had easy access to marijuana and G and I enjoyed it very much.  It focuses and intensifies food, music, movies and certainly sex.  Plus, it’s relaxing and enhances creativity.  If I am still alive when it is legalized here in the Bible-belt South, I will definitely keep some around.  

    Finally, G and I can look at the stats for this blog and tell how many of you visit it each day and how many of the installments you read.  We can also tell what countries you are from.  Most readers are from the United States and Canada but there are always a few from far away – Ireland, the United Kingdom, China, Australia, New Zealand, Italy, Taiwan, Cote d’Ivoire, Spain, South Africa, South Korea, Viet Nam, United Arab Emirates, Norway, France, and Germany.  Most never comment or send emails, of course, so we have no real concept of who most of you are or what you are looking for.  You can always email us at  in confidence.  Anyway…whoever you are, we hope you find the blog useful and that you have a wonderful life. 

Take care.

A Pandemic Update

G and I haven’t written anything lately.  Of course, this blog is pretty much finished.  We have told you everything we know.  We hope it helps some of you be happier.  

G and I are hanging tight out here on the farm as the pandemic swirls around us.  I buy groceries and household goods on-line and a very nice store employee places them in the back of the car for us.  It isn’t nearly as much fun as walking the aisles and browsing but it is safer.  I get fresh eggs and some produce from the local Farmer’s Market – which is outside and almost everyone wears a mask.  We have planted tomatoes in one of G’s flower beds because I can’t imagine going through a summer without real heirloom tomatoes.  

G badly needs a new hip and we were close to getting that done during the brief period when the infamous “curve” was flattened and hospital capacity was better.  Then, we held a pre-surgery meeting with her Orthopedist to finalize the date for the surgery and to ask last-minute questions.  Unfortunately,  the doctor walked into the little exam room without a mask on.  We sat there breathing his aerosols for 10 – 15 minutes (which seemed like hours) before we just left…never to return.

So, now, we’re facing a brutal resurgence of the virus and looking for another Orthopedist – one who believes in science.  Disappointing.  And, for G, very painful.  The American medical system is a joke.  A very expensive joke.     

Of course, the pandemic isn’t the only thing that is swirling around us.  The Black Lives Matter movement is on the streets, even in the small town 20 miles away where we get groceries and supplies.   Protesters have targeted an ugly Civil War Memorial Statue outside the courthouse.  Its unusual – and more than a little brave – for any progressive movement to show its face in our little town so, maybe, a few protesters a good sign.  

I was born and raised in the segregated American South.  I was a racist the first 17 years of my life.  Fortunately, the civil rights movement came along when I was a rebellious teenager and I had a wonderful aunt who helped me put that shit behind me.  Even so, living in the south and knowing what racism looks, feels and smells like, I have had to deal with it all my life.  It is all around us, here.  The conservative movement has brought it out into the open and made it bolder and more aggressive but, make no mistake, it has been here all along.  .

And it has not been kind to my southland.  We are, statistically less healthy, less well-educated, more superstitious and poorer than the rest of the US.  It is not coincidence that the Corona Virus is finding its most fertile grounds here.  Our stores and churches, restaurants and beaches are filled with people who believe wearing a mask is a liberal political statement.  

And, of course, we face all this with absolutely no leadership in Washington.  

G and I know we might not make it through this.  We are old and vulnerable.  Our daughter and her family live two hours away in their own isolation.  But we have each other.  G is frightened, as she should be.  She is also very tender-hearted, very loving.  We touch more.  We enjoy closeness more.  We have sex more.  

I take lawn chairs out into the meadow near the house every evening.  She rides our lawn tractor out and we sit and watch the fireflies work the hedgerows and the tree-line as the sun goes down.  We hope you are doing well through this and that we will all soon have a vaccine that can allow us to return to some form of normalcy.  We also hope that you guys are enjoying each other – emotionally, intellectually, artistically and sexually.  Take care of yourselves.  

A Sexual Life

G and I are lifelong birders.  That hobby has taken us all over the US and much of the world.  We were talking last night about a trip we made down to Lake Mattamuskeet to see the migrant waterfowl that spend the winters there.  On the way back, we spent the night in a rented room overlooking a small, privately owned marina.  It was an odd room – very long but really narrow.  The marina had cobbled it together to make a little extra money and put a sign out on the road.  The King-size bed was in front of the sliding glass door leading out to the private deck and the foot of the bed was so close to the door that it was difficult to pass through.  The bathroom was tiny and we had to lug the luggage up and down three flights of stairs.

A year or so later, we ran into another birding couple who asked our advice on where they might find a room.  I recommended the long, narrow one overlooking the marina.  Oh, no.  It seems they had rented that room and they hated it.  G and I loved it because we had sex in that bed overlooking the marina while the red winter sun went down and the mast lights of moored sailboats bobbed reflections on the water.  I can remember how she looked laying naked in that unique combination of light and reflections.  It was only an adequate, slightly overpriced room to sleep in but it was a wonderful room for fucking.  

That has been a common, pervasive pattern of our life together.  G and I have fucked on a boat in 40-foot seas crossing the Drake Passage, on a riverboat on the Amazon and in a 12’ aluminum boat with a 9 1/2 hp Evinrude on a sink-hole Lake in Florida while a small plane circled overhead and watched.  We fucked in a tent in Africa and in a hotel room facing the Empire State Building all lit up over the Manhattan skyline.  Well, you get the idea.  Its fun to fuck in different places under different circumstances.  It adds another level – another dimension – to every experience.

It can magically turn a shitty little narrow room into a really nice experience.  And a damn good memory.   Sex shouldn’t be something you do. It should be part of who you are.


When G and I decided to write this blog, we hoped that documenting our sexual experiences publicly would do a couple of things.  First, it would place sex in the context of a whole lifetime together – its contribution to a healthy, fully-functioning relationship.  Second, the blog would hopefully help people understand that fucking is more than the missionary position once a week in the dark.  We wanted to talk about fuck-sneezes and the different kinds of orgasms and all the other wonderful things we discovered along the way.  And, third, we knew that there must be people out there who have taken it farther than we we have – who have made their own discoveries and would be willing to share them. 

It has taken awhile but that is beginning to happen.  As more and more of you find this blog and respond to it, I’m seeing what appears to be an emerging pattern.  Most responses are from women and, no surprise, a lot of you who are happy to share that are having great sex and enjoying yourselves tremendously.  We love those stories.  But there are a lot of you trying to find ways to get your husbands to move past old habits and limited expectations.  That’s tough one. 

We guys don’t like to talk about this stuff and many of us would not welcome somebody telling us that there might be…shall we say… “room for improvement”?  But that might not matter as much as it seems.  Some of you are telling us that you’re starting without him – you arechanging your own attitude which is causing welcome changes in his responses and his attitude.  You get more playful and he joins in.     

You don’t have to tell him what you’re doing, just do it.  Make it a game.  If you have PMS, grab him next time and show him what he’s been missing.  Change the way you masturbate him or give fellatio and, if he starts squirming impatiently, tell him to relax and let you enjoy yourself.  Whisper, “Take your time” or “slow down…that feels good” into his ear when something feels nice.  See how far you can take him.  If you or he starts to sneeze, wrap your legs around him and enjoy it.  If he does something you like, make sure he knows you like it and that you would like to do it again.  Soon.  Make improving the sexual component of your relationship an important and on-going part of your life.  Read back over the first two or three posts here and get some ideas.  Or come up with your own.  Give it some time.  Lead the way.  Be a lover.  

Another positive thing we’re learning from your comments and emails is that women tend to talk more freely about sex with your female friends.  Some readers have found us because friends told them about the blog.  If you think it appropriate, recommend the blog to them.  Compare experiences.  Support each other.  Sharing fun little secrets is always good for a friendship. If your husbands are friends, you might find delightfully devious ways to get them talking to each other about what’s happening in the bedroom.  

This is supposed to be fun so play with it.  Be creative and enjoy the game. If you can change the attitude in the bedroom, I believe everything else will change with it.  G and I want you to be happy.


Five or six years ago, I tried to talk with my Doctor about sex.  My annual “wellness exam”.  He’s not real good with sex stuff – probably because I don’t usually ask the common questions but this day I gave him a familiar one.  I told him that my erections were not what they used to be.  He, of course, suggested I get some pills. If my doctor’s office is like yours, there is an alter set up in the waiting room with all kinds of drug literature and a television playing above it running drug commercials.  You may have also noticed a constant stream of drug salespersons pulling their little wheeled luggage carts full of money through the waiting area. So, the offer of a prescription was no surprise.  Even so,  I thought, “What the hell.  I won’t be narrow-minded about this.  I’ll try it.” 

He wrote a prescription for ten of them before he put on a fresh rubber glove and invited me to bend over.  The prostate exam is the only time I can honestly wish that, for this one tender moment, I were gay.  Instead, I’m thinking, “Relax!  Relax!   Don’t tense up!  Don’t tense up!”  He always finds the prostate but it ain’t easy. I make him work for it.  

That evening G and I were in town for dinner and we dropped by the drugstore to pick up my prescription – looking forward to later that evening when we could see what the hell, if anything, was going to happen.  Would I get this enormous, beautiful steel-hard penis that would evoke both our admirations?  Or not?   

I quickly looked at my options.  I could pay the unexpected large sum of money for them or I could ask the clerk to hold up the line while I scoured the store for G and got her input after going through the inevitable conversation – “$600?”  “Yeah.”  “$600?”  “Yeah.” “For how many pills?”  “Ten…ten pills” “Are you sure you heard it right?”  “Yeah, $600.”  “For ten pills?”  “Yeah.  What do you think?”  “$600 for ten pills?”  

She browsed around the store while I waited at the prescription counter watching myself and my fellow standers-in-line fidgiting on the security television screen suspended above us.  Finally I am summoned to the counter, state my name, birthdate and the name of the prescribing doctor, withdrew my credit card from my wallet and was prepared to conclude the purchase quickly, silently and efficiently for the benefit of those waiting in the now expanded line of anxious faces behind me when the young woman behind the counter said,  “OK, that comes to $600 plus tax. Credit or debit?”  I can imagine the expression on my face because I was expecting maybe…$30.00 or, best case, a $5.00 co-pay.  G and I are “comfortable” but not wealthy enough to spend $600-plus tax on hard-on pills without at least discussing it beforehand. But she was out in the store somewhere, the credit card was in the slot and there was a line of impatient people behind me.

So, I bit the bullet, said, “OK”, swiped the card, signed the little screen with the provided stylus and walked away with my little bag of pharmaceutical gold.  

When I found G, I whispered, “I just bought $600 worth of hard-on pills!”  She laughed and said, “$600?”  “Yeah.”  “$600?”  “Yeah.” “For how many pills?”  “Ten…ten pills” “Are you sure you heard it right?”  “Yeah, $600.”  “For ten pills?”  “Well, I didn’t know it was going to cost that much and and there were people in line and I didn’t know where you were so I bought them.  I’ll tell you about it in the car.”   

We had a good laugh on the way home and, I think, used them well.  They did make a little difference, most noticeable the morning after taking them. That was nice because we are both very sexually responsive in the morning.  Morning sex is different from evening sex. So, we enjoyed the pills sort of like we enjoyed shaving the bush…it was fun to try but we don’t need them.  I think I have one left.  I’m going to take it one night soon without telling G and see of she notices anything different.  

If you’re new to the blog, please scroll all the way down to the bottom and start there.  I think you will find it interesting.

Do Unto Others As You Would Have Them Do Unto You

I received a comment from a woman yesterday that gave me some insight into a paragraph I wrote back in the third post entitled “Vive La Difference?”  Here is the paragraph:  “So, we have pretty much the same thingies and, if you do pretty much the same things to her thingies as she does to your corresponding thingies – or vice versa – you will have pretty much the same results.  Everything centers around her clitoris and the nerve-engorged membranes around it and your glans and the nerve-engorged membranes around it.”  

Now, here is the comment from yesterday:  “… I’ve been sleeping with a trans woman who recently went on hormones, and she has begun having what you call pure orgasms. However, I’ve also been the first to treat her member as though it were a clitoris, focusing primarily on the head area and doing more circular motions instead of stroking the shaft. So which is responsible for the multiorgasmic experience? The motions or the hormones? Or both? Something someone wiser than I should study I think.”

I answered the comment as best I could – “I’m no scientist… just keep playing and enjoying the experience…etc” – but wasn’t quite satisfied with my response. Then, in the middle of last night I woke up and realized that she, in the comment, was describing perfectly what happened to G and me.  As you recall from an earlier post, I was recovering from surgery, G. was pleasuring me orally, I couldn’t respond as usual, I became passive, G was concentrating her talents around my Glans and the adjacent sweet meat, and I had an orgasm without cuming.  That’s what happened with me.

The writer of the comment comment was a woman and fully understands what her clitoris enjoys and, when she adapted that to her partner’s Glans, it produced a pure orgasm.  

So, I would advise women who would like to help their husbands achieve pure orgasms to just do to his thingie the same thingies that you would want him to do to your thingie and see what happens. And I would advise their husbands to relax and let her.

Two lessons from this for me:  We are all far more alike than we are different and the more you guys join this discussion, the more we will all get out of it.   

  Who knew the Golden Rule was applicable to fucking?