Day 2 of #JanuaryJumpstart! Yesterday felt pretty good, let’s see how we do today, shall we? (I’ll be honest here folks, I don’t know if there are prompts for this or not, so I’m running off internal inspiration here.)
I’ve had Queerness on my mind a great deal of late. Between watching TV shows and films that feature Queer characters, to having many close friends come out in various ways, I’ve had a lot of Queerness in my life, and friends, it has been delightful! But it’s left me wondering … how, in a time of a pandemic, when I’m not seeing anybody outside my immediate household in an effort to keep the young and the immunocompromised from being unnecessarily exposed, do I celebrate my own Queerness?
Also, I feel compelled here to mention that being Queer, to me, means not being a straight, cisgender person. Whether you’re Gay, Bi, Pan, Trans, Demi, Ace, or any other sexual or gender alignment that would be stacked by a talking head from a pulpit or a conservative talk radio station, you’re Queer in my eyes. If that’s not a label you would like used in reference to you, by all means, please correct me or anybody else who is incorrect. I will be happy to be corrected, and to use the terminology you prefer.
With that out of the way, let’s explore, shall we?(more…)
I wish I could be bringing you a sexy update, SINful friends. I know, we’re three posts into the new year and I’ve not given details on any mind blowing orgasms, incredible blowjobs, or delicious squirtings. It’s hard, you see, to have such wonderful times when there’s a three year old sleeping in your bed. Although things can get amusing when she decides to wake up after sleeping in her “big girl bed” on the floor next to yours.
In this increasingly digital world, we all seem to have at least one. Some of us have many more. At this very moment I sit at my desk, finished with a day of work, with 5 different glowing screens around me. You might say I’m a bit of a gadget whore.
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.
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?
This just in, SINful friends. Mrs. AP and I have good news.
You see, Mrs. AP is not yet divorced from her (then) husband that was part of our Poly Triad. While separated for some time, the funds to initiate the divorce have been unavailable. We have word, though, that He has completed the paperwork on his end and is sending it over for Mrs. AP to review and sign. We find this incredibly wonderful. We find we can plan things more clearly now.
Considering recent events with those we know, stacked atop the time we’ve already had together, Mrs. AP and I are choosing not to wait for much longer than we must while still maintaining our (my?) sense of romanticism. So.
I can’t help but want to show you
My urge to reveal is strong
But I need some motivation
Tell me my urge isn’t wrong
Tell me what you want to see
What you want your eyes to adore
Beg for me with lips and eyes
Only then will you see some more
I was lost in a sea of dreamscapes, spinning or twirling or flying or something. Whatever I was doing was freeing and free from the demands of such silly things like gravity or friction. Next to me, above me, behind me, and around me was Mrs. AP, laughing and skirting around me as we danced and spiraled and flirted with free fall. She moved closer with every pass, reaching out to brush and caress me, and soon she was reaching out to tug and stroke at my cock, urging it to respond so she could enjoy me in even more ways.
I woke from this to realize that my dream wasn’t entirely subconscious; Mrs. AP was pressed tight against my back as I slept on my side, and her arm was across me as her hand encouraged my cock to wake up with the rest of me. Still groggy from the haze of a deep and dreamful sleep I pressed back into her harder, giving small encouraging noises. Her hand grew more insistent as I responded to her touch, to her fingers squeezing the head and massaging the shaft, and I shifted to roll onto my back and allow her more access. She cooed slightly, getting a better grip on me as her attention became more firm. I slid my arm up as she nestled into the curve of my torso and our lips met in a gentle, exploratory, soulful kiss. Our lips pushed and pulled, parting as tongues gently explored… and then we got pounced by the puppy.
Nothing ruins a great kiss like a 4 month old hyper puppy diving in to share in the love, let me tell you. Laughing, Mrs. AP scooped her up, escorted her out of our bedroom, closed the door, and locked it behind her. I must have slipped back into the edges of sleep at this point; I remember looking at a naked Mrs. AP — we both sleep in the nude all the time — and smiling. I was informed later that I missed Mrs. AP crawling up my legs and caressing my cock in her cleavage before licking and sucking me for a few minutes. How the hell did I miss that!? What I DO recall, quite clearly, is Mrs. AP sliding her very hot, very wet, very wonderful pussy down my hard cock. I pushed up against her as she settled against me, pressed as tightly together as two humans can be. Then she started rocking, and her hips started rolling, and the rest of the world vanished.
Happy SINful Sunday, friends! I’m short on time today, and keeping with my love of all things SINful I thought I would contribute to this weeks edition of Sinful Sunday! Today’s posting features shots that are all creeping on 3 years old now, and honestly I would love to have some in the same poses taken now with a high quality camera. For self-captured images, though, I think these serve as a nice tease and help you all better understand why Mrs. AP has a thing for my legs. Enjoy!
I was tired. I was sore. My head hurt, my back hurt, my shoulders hurt. Hell, even my legs and ass hurt. Not to be outdone, my cock decided to chime in with how much it hurt. Something about Mrs. AP laying next to me as her hand caressed my legs and brushed my thighs and teased my pubic mound had resulted in such a raging, pulsing, demanding erection that is was if my cock had become too big for it’s own skin. The ache pervaded the length of me, the girth of me, and down into the core of me. I needed only one thing; for Mrs. AP to lower herself upon me, to impale her very being with seemingly massive cock, and ride me like the sexy vixen she is until I exploded inside her. So it was no surprise when her hand finally wrapped my throbbing cock and she asked if there was anything I wanted that I very firmly said “Ride me like a wild woman.”
I wish I had another one of my deep, meaningful, inspiring posts for you today friends. Instead I’m sitting here in my work vehicle, no A/C, at 5:30 in the morning. The temperature is 80F/26.7C with 81% humidity. The Heat Index moves that up to 87F/30.6C. It’s sticky. I’m sweaty. I go home in just over half an hour, where I will enjoy a lukewarm shower with Mrs. AP and try to find something to eat. The thought of the shower got me wondering, though, if my clean up routine is different from that of the many wonderful friends I’ve made here, so here goes:
You ever sit back and take stock of how your life has been lately? Just some reflection on how you’re feeling, what you’ve been doing, et cetera? Mrs. AP popped me into that headspace this morning with one very simple comment. As we lay snuggling after I got home from work she was gently playing with me — no urgency, just enjoying the feel of me in her hand — and after several minutes of me taking my time to respond to her ministrations she asked “Have you noticed your sex drive has dropped?” And just like that, I was in self-examination mode trying to figure out what’s going on with me.
It’s true, of course. Mrs. AP is highly perceptive when it comes to me, my moods, and my reactions. She often figures out what’s going on in my head before I do, which is a wonderful blessing for me because she gives insight I seem to lack, but it’s a curse for her when she knows what my issue is and is still waiting for me to figure it out. I’ve been trying to get better at understanding how I tick — I can do it with technical stuff all day long, why not with myself, dammit — but I still very often feel like I’m way behind the eight ball on figuring myself out. Despite that, I started digging around in this cluttered head of mine and I’ve come away with a few things that I think I can change to get me back to being my multiple-times a day randy self again.
After Mr. No Name posted about his coming out as a Swinger and a Sex-Blogger to a colleague (with favorable results so far, detailed in his post Busted!) I got to thinking about how I feel about Going Public. On the one hand, my relative anonymity here enables me to write unfiltered and uncensored without having to give any thought or worry to what somebody I know will say in response to what I’ve posted. On the other hand, I’m very open and honest in my writing here and provide links to social and dating sites where I hold active profiles. Anybody who knows me and goes searching from here through those sites would very quickly recognize me. There will come a day — a day I deem eventually inevitable — when my presence here will become irrevocably public. The question then becomes, how will I react?
I make no secret in this space that I consider myself Bi/Queer. Comments I’ve made on other blogs hold this fact in no secret either. While it took me some time to become comfortable with this aspect of my personality and my being, it took me much longer to fully come out, despite the the fact that I knew growing up that I liked boys and girls alike. I first started with very close friends in my early-mids 20’s, and I was up-front about it with my now ex-wife when she and I began dating. For nearly a decade, though, I held that part of myself secret from my parents and my brother. I knew, considering the environment in which I was raised and the religious proclivities of my parents, that such a revelation would prove disastrous to our relationship. Despite the very Christian claims of “Love the Sinner, hate the Sin” I knew from my experience in my early 20’s of my parents finding out that I don’t consider myself Christian that the amount of preaching about my “choices” would be a large contingent of every conversation we had for months, if not years, after I told them. I knew they would withdraw from me, and I from them; that I would, in effect, lose my family. Why, knowing this ahead of time, would I choose to come out instead of just keeping things quiet and following the established protocols? Why would I choose to alienate myself from people who might not be able to handle the news?
I’m a reader. Always have been, as far back as I can remember. Sitting down to breakfast I’d read the back of the cereal box, and when that ran out I’d read the sides. I started bringing a book to the table as soon as I could, to the point where I clearly remember reading at the table out at restaurants back during my elementary school years while waiting for my food to arrive. At any given time I’m usually reading at least one book, sometimes 2 or 3. With the advent of eReader software on my Android phone I can keep that limited to one book at a time and get through each one faster, but before then I used to have my “reading at work” book and my “reading at home” book. It’s one of the reasons I love finding a good blog so much; I get something entertaining, engaging, and inspirational to read. Such blogs are key reasons behind Mrs. AP and I taking the plunge to start our own online digest of our thoughts at adventures.
Mrs. AP shares my love of reading, and much to our non-surprise we like many of the same authors and themes. We both came into the relationship with a love of the Anita Blake: Vampire Hunter series by Laurell K. Hamilton. Sure, there are vampires and werewolves and everything else that is popular in op culture now, regardless of the fact that the first book in the (now 21 book) series was published in 1993. For those keeping score at home, that is the year before the film version of Interview With The Vampire was released.) What is also heavily present in the majority of the last half of the series so far is that the main character has an incredibly active sex life with her multiple boyfriends. She struggles with the moral implications of dating multiple men, of fucking multiple men, and after several books finally comes to accept that she does love — and often deeply — multiple men at once. It was this series that served as my backdrop to Polyamory long before I knew the name for the term, and in fact still serves (perhaps naively) as the best working example I know of how to maintain an open and positive Poly household.
In the most recent release, the main character has a few chapters early on with two of her main boyfriends where she releases her life is incredibly fulfilled by all the men in her life in different ways but most fulfilled when it’s just that small trio. While I realize for the novelization purposely, for both profit and story telling models, must romanticize and idealize such a relationship structure, it still makes me think back to when Mrs. AP and I first started dating, when I was trying to date both her and her husband at the same time, and how I felt she and I worked hard to make the 3 of us a working, equal Triad. I realized, seeing the three characters in the book, that I was searching for that perfect example, that idealized Triad, and that my search continues.
SINful friends, it’s been some time since a proper update from me, and for that I do apologize. Mrs. AP and I have been kept busy the past 3 – 4 weeks trying to scramble to find a new place, pack, and pull off the move without absolutely killing ourselves. With a great deal of stubbornness, perseverance, and a miracle or two we managed, but not without consequence. We’re both quite sore several days later, and we both remain exhausted. Even so, we’re faced with a new place in which we must unpack our belongings and start downsizing; as it was we filled a 17 foot U-Haul truck floor to ceiling, front to back. For a family of 5 — we’re sans roommates now! — this is just too much, both to move and to fit in our new, smaller place.
In the middle of the move Mrs. AP pulled me aside and informed me that she’d been having some mental hangups and possessive feelings when it came to sharing me but that those had now passed. The next day she told me she’d had a very arousing dream involving another couple we know. She got all cute and shy and embarrassed when I started asking about it. (I love how she can be cute and demure and shy discussing things out of bed but be absolutely into it and up for anything once the ice gets broken and cloths start coming off.) The most I was able to get out of her was that “we all did everything two couples can do.”
In my mind this can be a veritable smorgasbord of sexual activity, and several of my fantasies (see here) came flooding into my head. I pictured bodies moving and mouths exploring and hands caressing and haven’t been able to get the images out of my head, which tells me two very important things:
We’ve reached the end of our journey here in the 30 Days of Truth series! I know it’s taken longer than 30 days, but life has a way of interfering sometimes. Anyway, on to the finale!
A letter to yourself, tell yourself EVERYTHING you love about yourself
We’re in the final stretch of the 30 Days of Truth series! Only 3 posts remain! Let’s finish this thing strong!
What if you were pregnant or got someone pregnant, what would you do?
Here we are, back and better than ever with another entry into the 30 Days of Truth series. Shall we?
The reason you believe you’re still alive today.
On with another update in the 30 Days of Truth series. And look! It’s only been 42 days since I started this exercise. Let’s just say I’m not timely and move on to the update, shall we?
Something you wish you had done in your life.
SINful friends, thank you for weathering the relative absence felt here over the past few weeks. I know my posts have largely been limited to my 30 Days of Truth updates — a noble endeavor in it’s own right — which aren’t incredibly titillating. My absence is largely attributable to that one common malady of the modern human condition; stress!
(Pun intended) I can’t stress this enough; I don’t always handle stress well. While I can usually maintain a calm demeanor and keep a cool head about me, the trade-off of me not going into screaming rages and becoming hostile to those around me is that my interest level in non-critical aspects of my life takes a severe beating. While I love this space and love my regular readers, when I can either dedicate my time to Mrs. AbsinthePassion and our family or make an posting here, this web space will lose out.
I don’t want to leave all of your in the lurch, though; our relationship is still developing, but I’m still dedicated to being open and honest here and using this space to connect with people. Whether I don’t reach anybody at all or I eventually help somebody better cope with his situation, I want this little corner of the digital realm to be one where truth, openness, and acceptance prevail.
As such, here’s a little bit of what we’ve been dealing with lately that has kicked my stress level into insanity levels:
Another Monday, another entry in the 30 Days of Truth series. On with the show!
Something you wish you hadn’t done in your life.
30 Days of Truth, Day 21 : (scenario) Your best friend is in a car accident and you two got into a fight an hour before. What do you do?
It’s time for another update in the 30 Days of Truth series. Let’s jump right into it, shall we?
(scenario) Your best friend is in a car accident and you two got into a fight an hour before. What do you do?
Back with another one of those block rocking, err, 30 days of Truth entries! Sorry, had a little Chemical Brothers moment there. Anyway, on with the show!
Your views on drugs and alcohol.