I don’t dream often, now, nor have I for decades. Most of my memorable dreaming stopped around the time I entered puberty. This isn’t anything I’ve really explored, although I understand I might want to. Not remembering dreams isn’t what is considered normal behavior, I guess. Still, when I was single in my early 20s, there was a night where I dreamt of my ex-girlfriend strongly; vividly; memorably.
It was a rare night in the AbsinthePassion household; all the children were in bed and asleep before Mrs. AP and I. Considering all three of them fluctuate between day dwellers and vampires, we were exhaustedly excited to be able to get some sleep. We were also excited to be able to celebrate my birthday right as it started, shortly after midnight.
After securing the little one in her own bed elsewhere in our room, Mrs. AP and I took our nightly “help us stay asleep” meds that alleviate pain and introduce a nice lovely floaty feeling as we drift off. We have discovered a delicious other side effect of the meds is that they help us relax into and enjoy sexual matters more deeply, which I greatly appreciated when Mrs. AP reached over and started teasing her fingers up and down my chest and sides. I wiggled and giggled and moaned lightly under the masterful touch of her divine ministrations — she always knows how to hit all the right spots to render me helpless to her spell. Her touch became more focused, more insistent, and the moans grew stronger in reflection. Fingered dipped below my waist and teased hips, stroking across a pubic mound and sliding in that open space between abdomen and throbbing manhood. A light gasp of anticipation escaped my lips, which Mrs. AP notably pondered before rotating her wrist and wrapping her hand gently around my throbbing, dripping cock.
For roughly the last six hours today, while struggling through work, I have found myself craving the taste of Mrs. AP under my tongue. I love trailing my lips across her skin, exploring her lips and her neck, meandering down to her luscious breasts and erect nipples, The feeling of her nipples hardening, puckering, rising underneath my tongue and against my lips is one of the divine pleasures of being able to explore the fantastic curves of my wife’s body. Right now, though, in particular, I yearn for something very specific.
I long for running my tongue and trailing my lips down from the soft, pouty lips of Mrs. AP, caressing down her delectable neck, and into the glorious cleft of her cleavage. Downward still, strolling my tongue across the beauty of her stomach and teasing over the rise and fall of her sensuous mons pubis before spiraling slowly inward and down until my lips and tongue nestle into the perfect placement between her long, lean legs.
Oh, but to dip my tongue between her lips and gently coax them wide. Her heat, her scent, dancing across my taste buds to encourage deeper, more forceful explorations. Flattening my tongue, pressing, entering, to be greeted by the sweet taste of my beloved’s arousal. Sweet!, but not in a honey way, or even vanilla and strawberry, like most people like to use for descriptors of sexual juices. She’s more primal and raw, like what would happen if the forest and panthers and hibiscus and orchid and pomegranate and the nectar from lilies could all be blended together and then coaxed forth from within her. This! This is for what I long, and crave, and cannot shake from my mind for hours upon end today!
Oh, but I shall be home soon, and then, for all that is good and naked and wonderful in this world, will I close and lock my door, and strip my gorgeous wife bare, and explore her every twitch and tremble with my tongue until her sweet, subtle nectar becomes a flood upon my tongue and across my cheeks, and she gasps my name and grips the sheets and loses herself into the bliss of erotic release, and then! Oh, but then I will still be thirsty, and will have to drink of her some more until her crescendo repeats, again and again, until she can bear no more and must both push me away and pull me upward so that more than my tongue will slide between that velvety lips.
Soon. Soon. For my daydreams are vivid, and my need is pressing, and the memory of the taste of my wife is … sweet.
Stay SINful, friends.
Tonight is my thirteenth night away from home, which also makes it my thirteenth night away from Mrs. AP. Except for that one bad stint in the hospital last year, this is the longest she and I have been unable to sleep beside each other since February, 2010. When I left for this current business trip we thought I would only be gone nine nights. Obviously that has changed. Delays for the job led to delays coming home. There’s been naught I can do about that, no matter how lonely the bed feels when I’m the only occupant.
The night before I left was also the end of our first full day home after evacuating from Hurricane Matthew — we live on the coast now, which made us a rather high target zone — and we’d had no time or privacy in which to engage in any amorous bonding while we were dodging the storm. The friends who took us in are wonderful, but we couldn’t exactly ask them if we could borrow their room and their bed for some spousal alone time. Etiquette is a real party spoiler sometimes. But hey, no damage to the house, and we saw good friends we’d missed, so I guess that’s the silver lining there, right?
Regardless, knowing I was going to be leaving and knowing we hadn’t been able to play when we’d wanted to for far too many days, even while exhausted, while Mrs. AP and I were cuddling very late into the night, and once I heard our youngest finally settle down for the night I, started caressing Mrs. AP’s delectable body in that way that very clearly broadcasts that I’d like to do more than caress.
I teased her breasts and her nipples, letting the edges of my palms just brush the edges of her areolas, and our mouths explored each other. Her tongue darted against my lips, seeking, imploring entrance, which was granted eagerly. As our tongues danced to the rhythm of our needs my hands grew more insistent, cupping her nipples and her breasts and squeezing. Gently at first, and then more firmly, my hand pulsed in time with our lips and tongues. My efforts were rewarded with her luscious nipples hardening under my ministrations, becoming firm and puckered in that way that begs for attention. With a gentle squeeze I obliged, but only momentarily before sliding my hand down her silky smooth skin and across the valley of her pubic mound before dipping between the folds of her perfection. As my middle finger slipped between her lips, it was greeted with a warm, wet welcome. The body of my wife, my lover, my beloved was entreating me to enter her. How could I decline such an enthusiastic invitation?
Today is Tuesday, the 18th day of October in the year 2016. In three weeks time, the general election for the next President of the United States of America will culminate in us learning which version of historical precedence will be set.
Possibility 1: Hillary Clinton, the candidate for the Democratic Party, will become the first woman and the first spouse of a previous President to be elected President of the United States.
Possibility 2: Donal Trump, the candidate for the Republican Party, will become the first multiple divorcee, multiple civil trial defendant, multiple fraud charge defendant, first candidate allegedly indebted to the Russian government, and first person to have children with multiple previous wives, to be elected President of the United States.
If you are reading this entry, I can assume you love either politics or sex (or both).
If you love politics, please do not vote for Trump. He is destroying every standard and ethical approach to politics this country has ever seen.
If you love sex, please do not vote for Trump. He routinely disparages (and admits to assaulting) women, he regularly insults everybody who is not straight, and he is actively seeking to undo all of the progressive gains this country has made over the last 8 years in regards to civil and equal rights for every non-hetero-normative individual in this country.
Please, if you are a U.S. Citizen, and especially so if you live in one of the states regularly contested, such as Florida, Pennsylvania, Ohio, and Iowa, cast your vote for Clinton. Your LGBTQ+ friends and families, and their families, have their very lives at stake in this election. Stand with us. Stand for progress. Stand for hope. Stand for being stronger together.
Stay SINful, friends.
It’s a fun word. Until recently I’d not heard of it, but it started coming up in some reading Mrs. AP and I had been doing, and we being the ever curious types, we looked it up. According to the Demisexual Resource Center, demisexuality is defined as
a sexual orientation in which someone feels sexual attraction only to people with whom they have an emotional bond. Most demisexuals feel sexual attraction rarely compared to the general population, and some have little to no interest in sexual activity.
As you well know if you’ve read any of the tales of the sexual exploits and explorations in which Mrs. AP and I have endeavored together, the latter half of that definiion — “some have little to no interest in sexual activity” — is not applicable to Mrs. AP or myself. We are delightfully sexually vibrant (well, not always, but we all have our down times, don’t we?) However, when Mrs. AP read the first part of that definition she had to stop reading and collect herself. In stunned meditation she processed what she had read, then read it again carefully to confirm she’d not missed anything, before quietly saying “… that’s me!”
I believe this revelation helps us refocus on who we are as individuals and as a couple, and how to tie that in with my previous post — because we’ve had no luck so far finding a wonderful man for us to date. It also means there’s some reorganizing with our online profiles.
This last weekend Mrs. AP and I moved from Orlando to the Atlantic Coast — specifically the Space Coast — to get away from the noise and endless bustle and draining energy of the city. Now we’re near the beach! Win for us!
We’re also (okay, more she than me at the moment) being more active on OKC and FL and starting good conversations with potential new lovers.
It’s been over 3 years since I sucked a cock, and nearly 7 since I swallowed cum that is not my own. That itch needs scratching, and soon.
More SINful stories to come! The urge, the need, to write is hitting more. Just have to finish unpacking and get over some of these work deadlines first…
Stay SINful, friends!
I should be asleep right now, but insomnia awoke me, and the urge to write something … anything … hit me upside the head like a hard, thick, wet cock. Ergo, I’m playing along. Enter, and find within answers to mysteries, won’t you, my SINful friend?
I awoke this morning to the news that David Bowie had died. Like most of the world, I was gutted by this news, and have spent the rest of the day — while working, nonetheless — fighting back the release of tears that have been omnipresent behind my eyelids. Undoubtedly The Man of Many Personas left us too soon, but oh, what gifts he left us all, and the LGBTQ+ community specifically.
Earlier this year, a young white male sat inside a church in Charleston, South Carolina, USA and waited for whatever moment he considered to be perfect before revealing multiple firearms and shooting at members of the church. 9 were dead and many more injured by the time his rampage was complete.
Earlier this year, members of ISIL/ISIS were videotaped binding gay couples and throwing them from the tops of buildings.
Earlier this year, Buddhist monks in Burma lead a movement of oppressive laws and physical attacks against both women and against Muslims.
Earlier this year, LGBTQ families across the United States were threatened (and many attacked) when the U.S. Supreme Court declared that same sex marriage is an equal right.
Earlier this month, a Moroccan actress was attacked after starring in a film about the exploitation of sex workers in Marrakech.
Earlier this week, students at The University of Missouri in Columbia, Missouri, USA were threatened with bombs and guns for having the bravery to stand up to racist slurs and threats.
Earlier this week, suicide bombers kills dozens of people in Beirut.
Yesterday, attacks in Paris killed hundreds.
I could go on, but the patterns, the trends, they repeat into perpetuity. Across the world people separate themselves — Christian vs non-Christian, Catholic vs Protestant, Shi’a vs Sunni, Shinto vs Taoist, Israeli vs Palestinian, Black vs White, American vs Mexican, British vs Irish, Straight vs Gay, Men vs Women, Police vs Civilians, etc. — using labels that enable one group to define any other convenient group as The Other. The Other is dangerous! The Other is to be feared! The Other must be fought! The Other seeks to take our land, our women, our jobs, our freedom! The Other must be made to go away! Protect us from The Other!
Why are we so quick to define and then retreat from The Other? In the United States, why the ever increasing rhetoric to fear people from across the wrong border, or people who use a different house of worship, or people who love differently? In the world writ large, why the ever increasing fear of those fleeing from violence, those crossing borders in hopes of living, those who wish only to live in peace? Why the fear of women being seen as equals, or LGBTQ+ people being treated with genuine respect and honor? Why the fear, disgust, intolerance, and even outright hatred of The Other?
Living with The Other requires stepping outside a pre-established comfortable space, in which The One is not challenged by foreign ideas. The One has a manufactured reality; normality is fabricated, molded, shaped into something that most resembles The One. The One may be in comfort, communing with others who resemble The One in body type, skin color, religious or philosophical ideals, leisure activities, and cultural representations. The One does not have to question if reality outside the small space occupied by The One differs from the reality The One has built, for the outside does not impugn nor encroach upon The One. The One is secure.
Introducing The Other into the comfortable space of The One dissolves that reality. The Other does not conform to the expectations around which The One has built daily life, and The One, often as a result of this self constructed minimized reality, lacks the coping ability to recognize The Other as being a valid part of reality. While from the perspective of The Other the constructed reality of The One is limited and minimal and could use a refreshing expansion, from the perspective of The One the arrival of The Other signifies destruction and rejection of all that The One has built. The Other sees expansion and inclusion, whereas The One sees conflict and restriction. Lacking the foundation upon which expansion can be built, The One lashes out.
This lashing may be verbal. It may be subtle, in the introduction of policies, regulations, or laws that prevent the acceptance of The Other, thus forcing The Other back away from the falsely maintained reality of The One. Should — nay, when — The Other refuses to regress, The One responds with more fervor. Regulations become threats. Threats become violence. Violence becomes murder. Not always, but often, for The One is accustomed to being heard and followed, and does not understand why The Other does not comply.
What I hope — indeed, for what we should all hope — is that we will learn how to stop being The One and recognize that we are all The Other. In this world of ever-growing connectedness, let us learn how to become connecting. Let us, instead of fearing and rejecting The Other, open ourselves to learning and adapting and expanding. We can learn from The Other. We, as The Other, can teach. We can be examples. We can embrace.
Do not reject The One, nor reject The Other. Destroy the limitations, yes, but only to build bigger and better through expansion. Reject fear and vitriol, and do not tolerate the spread of things based on hate, but act with love. Act with kindness and openness and respect. Demonstrate compassion.
Start with an embrace.
Stay SINful, friends.
Time for another edition of T.M.I. Tuesday! Jump below to see how well I performed this week.
I came home from work with one of the most debilitating migraines I’ve had in ages. I fought through traffic and held it at bay, but by the time I walked up the stairs and through the front door Mrs. AP was able take one look at me and firmly say “I love you, go lay down in the dark.” Knowing better than to ever argue with her when she uses her Domme voice, I kissed her and made my room to comply. As I lay there trying to hide all light and sound from obliterating me into millions of pieces Mrs. AP came in and softly asked how I could help. My whimpers must have translated into something because she left the room to come back a few minutes later with Excedrin and a cold coffee blend of the various pre-made flavored coffees we keep in the fridge. She disappeared again, leaving me in silence.
On her next return she came bearing food; perfect wife that she is, she made dinner and handled the kids while I lay in the room trying not to feel like death had become me. Dutifully I ate, thankful for the mix of spices and savory elements she combined to hit every flavor element I so love. Once I finished eating I lay the plate back down and rested, eyes closed, hoping for relief.
When Mrs. AP came back in she asked if there was anything else she could do to help. I whimpered some more, to which she responded by laying next to me and cradling me, caressing my head and letting her hand wander further down my body. As she slipped a hand inside my pants she asked if there was *anything* she could do to help, and my cock rose in response. Feeling how eager my cock was to greet her Mrs. AP whispered mischievously “feels like I know just the thing.” She got up to lock the door, stripping as she rose, and in my pained stupor I somehow managed to strip so that by the time she turned around I was ready, waiting for her.
Today the United States Supreme Court released a list of cases it will review during this current term. Vividly absent from this list were any cases regarding same-sex marriage validity. While this does not prevent the Supreme Court from taking up such as case in the future, what it does do is further cement the validity that there is no valid reason to prevent two consenting adults from having the same marriage benefits long since enjoyed by Good Christian Couples. But what is exactly is a Good Christian Couple (term my own), and why should it enter into the realm of legal recognition or protection of a relationship?
Effective tomorrow (today in Miami-Dade County) full marriage equality is the law of the land in Florida … at least for now. The ruling (and then clarified ruling) from Federal Judge Hinkle dictates that the now infamous 2008 Florida Amendment 2 passage declaring as part of the Florida Constitution that marriage can only be recognized as between One Man and One Woman is itself Unconstitutional at the Federal Level, and thus must be considered null and void. Couples have already begun marrying in Miami-Dade County at the time of this writing, which makes me smile to no end. It also means that this map now needs an update.
While this ruling could still potentially be overturned by a Supreme Court Ruling declaring that Marriage Equality is in fact not guaranteed under the rights put forth in the Constitution of the United States, for now Florida can say that it’s caught up to the other 35 States that recognize the fact that loves knows no gender or sexual boundaries between fully informed, consenting individuals. I’m still not proud to live in a State that voted to deny this right, but I am beyond thrilled that such bigotry and narrow-mindedness is at least being overturned.
Maybe someday Polyamory will see a similar social acceptance, and marriages will be extended beyond the basic couple structure. Only time will tell …
Stay SINful, friends.
As a follow-up to the conversation Mrs. AP and I had the other night, Mrs. AP asked me what kind of action / relationship / friendship … thing … for which I’m looking. Evidently my stare of confusion was quite audible even in the dark of our bedroom at night, because she rephrased the question, asking “Are you just looking for some boy bits to play with or are you looking for somebody more long term and permanent for a relationship.” I still needed clarification, however, so in response I asked “do you mean as just a playful swinger kind of thing or as a more poly boyfriend situation kind of distinction?”
“Yes, exactly; play for fun or long-term play?”
I mulled this over in my head some before answering slowly and deliberately “What I want right now is just playful fun with boy parts, for us to suck and fuck and get fucked. That’s what I’m craving. Sexy fun time with another guy or two.”
Truth be told — and that’s why I’m here, right? — that’s not the entirety of what I want. I don’t think it ever has been one or the other for me; it’s always been both.
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.
For those keeping track at home — or not but think these things are cool anyway — in the past week the United States saw
* Oregon have it’s gay marriage ban deemed unconstitutional
* Utah be ordered to recognize the 1300 marriage certificates issued to gay couples
* Pennsylvania have it’s gay marriage ban deemed unconstitutional
*Maryland passed a law banning unequal treatment of trans* people
This makes 16 consecutive rulings since the DOMA ruling that have been in favor of equality. Slowly yet surely that section of the listing ship that is inequality in the United States is being repaired. As Maryland has demonstrated, full inclusiveness requires more then granting two people in love the ability to seek equal recognition under the law.
We’ll get there. Someday soon, I hope.
Stay SINful, friends.
Hello again, SINful Friends. It’s been some time since I’ve posted anything of substance, hasn’t it? My dearest apologies. Many happenings have intruded upon my writing schedule (what schedule? Hah!), so today shall be a combination of recounting all we’ve missed over the last year and some musings over the future of things. So grab a snack, pour a glass, and get comfy. Potential exists for this to take some time.
Less than one week ago, the NFL draft — in and of itself a terribly boring thing to watch — found itself in the center of a media blitzkrieg when openly gay player Michael Sam became the first such player to be drafted. His reaction was televised live and included a very heartfelt kiss with his boyfriend in reaction to the good news.
Some perspective for non sports fans — Michael Sam was the Defensive Player of the Year in the NCAA Southeastern Conference, or SEC. The SEC is widely considered the most competitive and elite of the college football conferences. Other NFL players from the SEC include Emmit Smith, Peyton Manning, Eli Manning, and Champ Bailey. Generally speaking, the SEC players are very good; in several recent years more NFL draftees hailed from colleges that were members of the SEC than from any other conference. Michael Sam was the best at what he did in a conference considered the best in the game. The fact that he was drafted based on talent is little surprise. The fact that he was drafted next-to-last is of mild surprise, despite the fact that several teams and high-profile players commented than his sexuality would have no bearing on his draft status. What is sadly surprising is the amount of open bigotry displayed since the airing of Michael Sam kissing his boyfriend in celebration.
Right now a Google search of “Michael Sam kiss” yields 114 million results. The first page focuses nearly entirely on the homophobic and bigoted reaction from members of various local media organizations — most prominently a female TV personality from the Dallas – Fort Worth area who became so incensed at the idea of ESPN “pushing their agenda” and giving her “no choice but to watch this kiss” that she stormed off the morning set when two of her co-hosts disagreed with her.
We have reached the odd balance point, where an openly gay potential NFL player can get drafted — and quickly generate the 2nd fastest player jersey in history — yet in the process of kissing his boyfriend in spontaneous celebration help reveal just how narrow minded large swaths of society remain. Some of the remarks have been as outrageous as “I don’t want my children being forced to see that kind of thin”, when nearly every stadium or arena has a “kiss cam” that at some point during the game will distract the fans with images of heterosexual couples in the stands kissing or being encouraged to kiss. The audacity of the double-standard is stunning.
Let us not be downtrodden, though. After all, we’ve now seen the NBA and the NFL — two of the most testosterone driven sports organizations in the United States — feature an openly gay player. This is progress, let there be no doubt, the pace of which is yet to be determined. Slowly public perception will shift and this will stop being a source of controversy. In the mean time, as Galinda from “Wicked” would say, we’ve got an awfully long way to go.
Stay SINful, friends.
Last week I finally got a chance to fulfill one of my fantasies, thanks to a great deal of understanding and assistance from Mrs. AP and a timely visit to our house by Red. You might remember Red. He was the featured guest in An Unexpected Threesome last year. He’s also properly medicated now, which makes him a great deal of fun to be around. He’s jovial, witty, a bit raunchy, and overall a much better version of himself. It’s refreshing to see him like this. Compare to the four years I knew him while he had no access to the proper medication, the difference is incredible. It makes me like him far more than I expected I could when we first met. He’s told me the feeling is mutual. We’re cool.
Moving on. While Red was staying the night, getting away from pressure of work and family and generally needing to decompress, he retired to his usual spot when he stays over; on our bed. You see, our place is small, and the best place to gather to watch TV together is the bedroom, so on the bed he flops. Also, he’s family. It works. And while on the bed, once the kids were all tucked away for the night, he made himself more comfortable by stripping. Not much had to come off, mind you; he was in his boxer briefs prior to that point, but he finds them confining. I understand. Boy bits need room to breathe, after all.
After he was naked for a bit, I joined him in the land of nudity and removed by jeans and underwear. This left only Mrs. AP wearing anything, nestled between us in her tee shirt and underwear. I curled up on my side and nestled against her, caressing her legs and rubbing her arms, all the while glancing at Red fully on display and ever so slightly plump in the warmth of the room. My thoughts started racing, imagining the possibilities now that there were two naked men on the bed sandwiching a mostly naked Mrs. AP. To no surprise to me — or really to Mrs. AP, for that matter — I was soon rock hard and pressed against her leg, which soon led to me dripping down her leg as a gentle river of precum began to meander about. She noticed this, repeatedly, and alternated between pretending to be shocked and being deliciously amused. This went on for ten to fifteen minutes, before Mrs. AP pretended to need to stretch and leaned forward on the bed, arching her back and rocking up on her knees. In this position Red and I had a fantastic view of Mrs. AP’s barely covered ass and pussy, and we both wasted no time in caressing every inch of her we could reach before I hooked a finger into her skimpy underwear and pulled it to the side to reveal her plump, sweet lips. Red and I both reached for her, his fingers against mine, as we teased Mrs. AP’s lips and gently slid just inside her. As she moaned, I slid one finger down to tease her clit while Red pushed a finger farther inside her, filling her slowly. Mrs. AP rocked her hips back against us, before leaning back — pulling both our hands away in the process — and teasingly mentioning that she hadn’t issued an invitation. We all laughed, and Red quipped “Fine, can we get you naked and play with you?” Mrs. AP looked at me questioningly. In response, I pressed my throbbing, hard cock against her leg and nodded. Just like that, off came her shirt and thong.
Today was a standout day in terms of the ongoing fight for equality for my wonderful LGTBQ community.
First we had the wonderful surprise ruling from U.S. District Judge Orlando Garcia, who ruled that the Texas ban against gay marriage violated the 14 Amendment of the United States Constitution. In his ruling Judge Garcia wrote “Today’s court decision is not made in defiance of the great people of Texas or the Texas Legislature, but in compliance with the U.S. Constitution and Supreme Court precedent. Without a rational relation to a legitimate governmental purpose, state-imposed inequality can find no refuge in our U.S. Constitution.” Similar decisions have recently been handed down in Virginia and Kansas, and the swelling tide is pushing toward one of these decisions eventually leading to a case being heard by the United States Supreme Court. As more decisions are made in favor of equality, the precedence will be further set for the Supreme Court to finally rule on the matter altogether. Such a hearing and decision would not come for a few years out, still, but the evidence thus far shows that the soon this chapter of legal discrimination will be able to be closed.
Additionally, today also saw Governor Jan Brewer of Arizona veto State Bill 1062, which included language that would have given any person or business legal standing to deny “impactful service” that would have required a compromise of one’s religious convictions. While the most popular reaction was that right-wing Christian businesses could then refuse services to non-heteronormative individuals, the broad spectrum written into the bill would also have allowed Muslim business owners to refuse service to “infidels”, or Catholic business or charities to refuse service to divorcees or unwed mothers. There was no discernible distinction between what would be considered an undue burden, and the evidence needed was nearly as sparse as simple testimony of conviction and belief. This was a victory not only for the LGBTQ community but also for every minority religious group in the state of Arizona that needs protection from the far too common bigotry paraded as Christian values.
Granted, neither of these rulings directly affect me. I don’t live in either Texas or Arizona, and while I identify as Bisexual, to the general public I appear to be relatively hetero-normative. I have Mrs. AP as my soon-to-be wife. We have a family together. While we have dated other men together in the past, and have had some wonderful threesomes with them and others, none of that translates into our public appearances seeming to be anything other than a normal, stereotypical American family.
I need these rulings to help be able to break out of appearing to be the stereotypical hetero-normative male. I need these rulings so that public perception can be further pushed into acceptance and eventual embrace instead of discrimination. I need these rulings so that I don’t have to worry about making a comment about another man in public, or kissing another man right after Mrs. AP finishes with him, or the three of us all holdings hands in public will cause uproars and become public issues. Yes, I’m terribly to live in one of the most liberal portions of Florida, so that when Mrs. AP and I have been out in public with another man we’ve not been met with derision, but not every county in Florida is that accepting. The state law bans marriage between anybody other than one man and one woman. Non-heteronormative couples are not allowed to adopt. For as non-Southern as Florida may be, it’s still conservative. Consider, then, that Florida isn’t even one of the top 5 most conservative states. If my fellow human beings who identify within the LGBTQ spectrum cannot receive equal treatment in any state, the fight is not yet over. If those same fellow humans cannot receive equal protection in every state, the fight must continue.
Today included victories in two important battles. Let’s work to keep those victories coming.
Stay SINful, friends.
The other night Mrs. AP and I celebrated my birthday in spectacular fashion. Those of you out in Twitter land already heard about some of it, but for the rest of you, here’s a run down (or a marathon down?) of what happened:
Mrs. AP is always very eager to please me anytime something worth celebrating rolls around. Okay, she’s very eager to please me all the time, as am I with her, so really there’s nothing terribly new in that aspect, but birthdays in particular are extra special. Anything goes for birthdays, and this night was no exception. We started the night just holding each other and talking, all distractions like TV and phones put away and turned off. We’d not well and truly talked about how we’re doing, what we want, and how to approach those things in quite some time. The best part of our relationship is how well we communicate when we both relax and share ourselves with each other, and while we’d never lost that ability we’d been focusing on so many other things this past year that we’d let slip some of that bonding time we need.
As our talking became more pervy and kinky the conversation delved into group sex and bi-boi play and how well some of our past lovers worked with us then and could again in the future. Talking of our past lovers always gets me excited, as scenes from our adventures play out on the film screen in my mind; images of Mrs. AP sliding down the largest cock I’ve ever seen in person while I hold it in place; images of her mouth sucking on a cock so intensely that she doesn’t get any warning before it explodes in her mouth; images of her on her back being roughly fucked while my cock muffles her deep moans. I can’t help but get hard at the thought of what we’ve done and what we might do again. Mrs. AP takes great delight in this and is sure to stroke and tease my cock until the pre-cum has formed puddles on my stomach. Talk soon turned to things we’ve not yet done, in which mention of DP and DVP came up. As we were discussing the pros and cons of the lovely cocks with which these things might happen vis a vis who could actually fit in which locations, one of us made mention of having one of those lovely cocks slide inside my tight ass.
The subject had been breached, and I was feeling relaxed, confident, and aroused enough to agree, or perhaps even insist, on us breaking out the toy box and seeing just how well our collection of toys could fit inside me. After all, if I couldn’t handle being filled by imitation cock there wasn’t much likelihood of me handling a real one, and it had been quite some time since Mrs. AP had flogged me and fucked me. In a flash Mrs. AP was off to the shower — I’d showered earlier in the evening — while I prepared the room. Top sheet and comforter were moved to the end of the bed and tucked neatly into quick-pull piles in case we got cold. Pillows were arranged at the top of the bed for maximum comfort and bed space. Candles were lit. Towels were laid down. Toy box, cleaner, gloves, condoms, and baby wipes were laid out for easy access.
Mrs. AP came back into the room to find me laying naked on the bed, my cock hard and throbbing for her. Not for her and one of our lovers. Not for her and Red and Red’s new girlfriend who were sleeping in the other room. All for her and for the deliciously deep dicking she was going to give me. She put her hair up and settled down between my legs, leaning forward to give my pulsing cock a long lick and a slow suck on the head before pulling her head up slowly until I audibly popped out of her mouth. She asked me which toys I wanted, and with a quick review session of our options I chose all the “life like” toy cocks we have, all of which happen to be Vac-U-Lock compatible. Toys selected, Mrs. AP slid a glove on her left hand cleaned all the toys with the spray toy cleaner we use. Those matters settled, she wiped her gloved hand dry of the cleaner and then lubed it up, and with her right hand wrapped around my cock she began teasing my ass with her finger. Just a gentle tease at first, circling the edge of my tight little rosebud before rubbing across it lightly. Slowly she added more pressure as the tease became a massage. As I relaxed into it and felt the pressure grow from pressing to encouraging my backdoor slowly opened and invited her finger in. As she passed through the first ring of muscle I gasped. As she passed through the second ring of muscle I groaned. Oh, how I’d forgotten how much I enjoyed this. My ass was ripe for the taking, and Mrs. AP was ready to take.
Mrs. AP and I had a night out Friday night with SCS and her boyfriend. Well, I should rephrase: half the night was SCS and several of her other friends, the other half of the night SCS’ boyfriend joined us. He was busy for the first half of the night with an income-producing venture, yet he’s currently without clearance to drive, so SCS provides him transportation whenever such opportunities present themselves.
Mrs. AP and I were both feeling better than we had previously in the month, mostly thanks to rest over the previous few days and a healthy dose of drugs designed to let us behave as normal human beings again. While we’re both rather traditionalist and wary of what substances we ingest, thank goodness for modern medicine!
Over the course of the many discussions held over the evening, one theme became apparent; SCS and her boyfriend quite often live very separate lives. Granted, they’ve only been living together a short while, but it struck Mrs. AP and I as being a bit odd that a committed couple would be relatively heavily involved in having social lives that often do not involve one’s partner. Mrs. AP and I simply do not operate that way.