You know, when this journal got reviewed a while back by one of those review-other-people's-journals folks, she mentioned that my affirmation and mantra that Life Is Good sounded contrived and repetitive. I enjoyed some other parts of her review, but figured she could pound sand on this one, and I actually got quite a bit of mail from folks who read this thingie encouraging me to please not change it. I don't plan on it at all. It has grown on me to be a very sincere part of my positive outlook on life [the war and my personal financial management skills excepted]. Folks at work, strangers at the grocery store, friends... when they ask how I'm doing these days I automatically respond, "Life is good." It is often a surprise, but it also brightens up a lot of folks who realize at that moment that life ain't all that bad after all. As well it is a constant affirmation, and we've known the power of positive thinking dating back thousands of years.What has brought about all of this cheeriness? The time I've been able to spend just of late with GirlShawn has been very rewarding for the both of us. Her kids have been out of town and we've been able to date as we want to instead of how parenting responsibilities dictate. Last Saturday she invited me to a medieval feast. Yup - Slut Peter finally got to his first SCA event. I arrived a bit late, which meant that the dinner which started an hour after I arrived was 90 minutes late - but on time, for SCA purposes. Shawn was a cooking wench, so I sat with other folks and she just joined us at the end of three hours or so of multiple course period dishes, all lovely. Venison, goose, shrimp, all sorts of vegetable dishes and sweets, all served with unknown spices and recipes and I - was - so - stuffed. She had told me she would have a tunic for me to wear so I wore one of my kilts with a tshirt. When the tunic wasn't there I figured I'd be more acceptable as a bare chested barbarian than a guy wearing a 21st century shirt, so I ate the meal half skyclad. After the feast we headed to the Wet Spot for a bit more contemporary entertainment. I put Shawn's large and lovely breasts into skin-purpling bondage and then blindfolded and secured her to a rack. She is new to being flogged and it was my first time flogging her so I gave her a kind and gentle Intro To My Whips 101 seminar, on her back and then on her front. With no warning - and she was still blindfolded - I switched from my beefalo hide heavy thudder to my Hitachi Magic Wand. Oh, such a happy thing. I held it to her with firm pressure and before long I had to undo her restraints so she could sink to the floor, without losing a beat. Before I knew it, her hoohoo's appetite had inhaled the wand to the power buttons. Take a look at that link, folks, and note that the wand is 12" long, head 2 1/2" in diameter. She not only consumed it, but then locked her legs together writhing on the floor for uncounted minutes trying to crush it to death. This was extremely hot, damnbetcha. A bit later in the week I was invited out to her house for dinner and a sleep over. I told her I'd bring out a piece of meat and we could figure out a simple meal. I brought a standing rib roast about 5" thick, along with the basics: coarse kosher salt, pepper, garlic powder, garlic granules, garlic flakes, & Marsala. I rubbed the meat down with the Marsala cooking wine and a bit of oil, then poked holes all over the meat with a knife and inserted garlic flakes. I mixed all of the other seasonings and hand rubbed it heavily over every surface of the meat. I'd found a recipe to try which worked quite well, with one caveat. I pre-heated Shawn's oven to 450 and cooked the meat there for 60 minutes, and then turned the oven off without opening the door and ignored the meat for another hour plus. The problem? We ended up eating about 11:15 p.m. on a work night. We both swore it was the best meat we had ever had, and were inspired sufficiently to get our second wind and jump each other's bones extremely happily until about 3 a.m. Alas, she had self discipline and kicked us both out about 7 a.m. to get to work. Last night was the Spot's Erotic City party - sex oriented instead of S/M oriented. CB and DeVil joined Shawn & I for dinner at Chen's Village before the party. After the DJ started the dance music at the E.C. party Shawn put a chair in the middle of the empty dance floor and pulled me out to get a personal lap dance. Lawsy - and she enforced the "no touching the dancer" rule! Terrible torture. Before too long we were over on a pile of 5' long pillows in front of the porno TV, and she had me laid back in exquisite pleasure. She took me to wonderful heights orally and manually and then walked me over to the Sybian room. She had CB show her how to run it and to watch over while she gave me a ride that ended up in me passing out, falling off the saddle forward and crushing her under me. Wheeedamn! A bit later I put her on the same pillows. Told her I needed my hair scrungee before I started oral and she grabbed her panties and tied my hair back with them. [Like she's gonna get them back, ya know?] I proceeded to part her lovely lips and tongue-map her hoo hoo features. For a long time. At one point I glanced up and told her that I hoped she didn't mind my tonging her along with the music that was playing. A couple of minutes later, after the song changed, she suddenly cried out, "Thank God For Santana!" Somewhere along there Max joined us, giving happy attention to her upper half as I was to her lower half. She and Max have been dating as she and I have, and it really increased her sensation to have four hands and two mouths pleasing her. Shortly I switched over to two gloved and lubed hands and she hit a really nice peak. Just as she had done to me, I took her hand and walked her over to the Sybian room. She had only ridden once before and hadn't enjoyed the experience. Well. With Max helping stimulate her and my running the control box, she enjoyed this experience. To a point of tilt overstimulation. Such a good party. I guess all of this paints the picture fairly well, why I sat down to type today and my first impulse was to just repeat paragraph after paragraph only of Life Is Good Life Is Good Life Is Good ad infinitum. i figured it was time for a good old fashioned sluttish slut report though. Let no one say I'm not doing my bit for Orgasms For Peace.
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