When you stop in Safeway in the early evening, dressed to go clubbing, and buy only a partypack of Crisco, do you think they wonder? "Obviously he must belong to a kinky baking circle..."?
I picked up Omaha last night, flirted with Elf and scared the baby [their daughter is terrified of beards, apparently, and much as I love all of them I just can't bring myself to shave off the damn thing]. We left dad and daughter to kill millions of space beings on the lap top and to sleep, respectively. A nice dinner at Pandasia [http://www.bravoevent.com/se/pandasia/] and we went in to the Grind at the Wet Spot.
Omaha is a former professional dancer, and has taught classes in erotic dance. She lost not one single step, bump, or grind to maternity and was the sexiest thing on the dance floor. Me - well, dancing is on the list of impact sports I can't do along with jogging, rappelling, and anything else that kills my knees. I got a chair close to the dance floor and thoroughly enjoyed her working out [as did everyone else there!] She danced, she humped the bars of the cage, she writhed on the floor, she even gave me a 'couch dance' [both of us reliving our early adulthoods, I guess :) ]. She worked up a sweat and I worked up an appetite.
And, dear woman that she is, she took me into the back and gently massaged crisco as far into my nether regions as she could reach. Often when being fisted I get goal-oriented; grab myself, lube up, and use my partner's ministrations as an adjunct to getting myself off in a big time manner. And it's great like that.
This time instead I lay back in the sling and ignored my little dillywhacker, but instead worked on deep and slow breathing exercises. Eyes closed, feet in the stirrups, long and slow and deep relaxing breathing and absolutely no attention on whether or not I had an erection or anything else to do with my dick. When we had gone as far as I think my humble little bomb bay doors could take this time [your body tells you when 'enough is enough'], I asked her to just gently work around wherever she had gotten to, and next thing I knew I'd popped into an altered headspace. Just kinda 'boink'. No colors, no earth moving, no red-veiners in the forehead or going feral. Just kinda ... 'boink'. I - and I'm speaking very much a spiritual 'I' entity - moved into a nice place.
Omaha later told me that she noticed my body go slack, my arms drop limply, and I didn't show any sign of hearing her call me. She got kinda concerned and gently but quickly brought me back to the common world, darn it. It hadn't been an earth shattering-the-orgasm-that-ate-Pittsburgh sorta thing; it was just a really really nice ... boink.
And I'm now done with working night shift after many many years. The past two years straight, much of the couple years prior to that and almost all of about five years on back before that. This next week I'll be starting on day shift and oh yeah, there are still lots of mixed feelings.
Right now it's Friday morning, after Omaha and my Thursday night date. I put myself to bed around 3 and up at 9, and here it is mid-day, I'm trying to sort out what it is people do during the day. I ICQ'd Panther and she's coming up to keep me company on a Costco visit; that should be an adventure.
Tonight I'm taking Kevin out for his birthday dinner, and I'll tell all tomorrow....
Life is indeed good. Just gotta keep it that way.
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