We were snuggling in bed, Mrs. AP and I. Her hand was lazily teasing my thighs and cock, brushing and stroking without any real intent. As we kissed and snuggled, her caresses got the better of me, and soon my cock was a raging hardon monster desperately needing something to destroy. Our only problem was that we’re still in the “no intercourse allowed” stage of the post-delivery period. Lucky for me, my wife is understanding of such things and loves to please me.
Her hand gripped my cock firmly, sliding the skin up and down over the edge of the flare of my head. She milked me slowly, bringing forth multiple gushes of pre-cum until my head and her hand were coated. Giggling just a little, she switched her technique to stroking the full length of my throbbing cock, adding just a tiny flick of her wrist every time she stroked back up against the head. In very short order my hips were bucking and my breath was coming in small gasps as she brought me right to the edge.
And held me there.
I suppose one could say it started like any typical Monday morning. The kids were all off to school, leaving the house empty of human beings except for Mrs. AP and me. She was in bed naked. I was soon naked and in bed with her. What happened over the next 2 hours was pure debauchery at it’s finest.
My brain is absolutely fried today, SINful friends, so I’m calling it in JUST a little bit by taking place in the T.M.I. Tuesday meme for the first time. I simply do not have anything rolling around in my head that can coalesce into a reasonably strong, much less entertaining post. No rants. No insights. Just white noise. Despite this, I feel the urge to write something. I need the act to help keep me feeling normalized. This, I bring you my entry for T.M.I. Tuesday.
As I grow and explore all the facets of myself that have lie dormant the past decade, I often find myself running headlong into ideas that both fascinate me and set my anxiety to full throttle. In many ways it’s like being a clumsy teenager again, where I know I want to try something but my inexperience sets my nerves ablaze. The perfectionist within me hates being unprepared or to look foolish or awkward, which leads me to over prepare and over anticipate and generally short circuit myself. This habit at least makes sense when I’m expecting to try something new and I’m nothing but nervous smiles and silly giggles. My protective mechanisms kick in and I react by becoming a nervous school girl. I get that. What I don’t get is why it happens when I’m expecting or presented with something I’m already done? Why the anxiety and insecurity over something I not only can handle but also enjoy?