Tuesday, August 9, 2016
Saturday, April 16, 2016
Thursday, September 17, 2015
It's hard to believe it's been nine months since I last checked in, and that this is my first post in all of 2015. That's profoundly frustrating, especially since I expected to post every few days back when I first set up this blog. In the intervening months, my libido has become significantly more obscura. I'm not sure why, but the bupropion side effects have turned it up to eleven. I can't pinpoint when this exactly happened, but I strongly suspect the advent of summer is a contributing factor. For a number of reasons I won't go into here, my Friday morning fucks with Legs went on hold. Mentally, I always looked forward to them but physically my body was blase until my semi-flaccid cock is rubbing against her labia. I grows steadily firmer until I can force it in, and then it's off to the races. Lustful desire is absolutely not a problem once I'm inside her, but otherwise, meh. I believe those regular Fridays stimulated my body chemistry in such a way that prevented my libido from flat lining entirely. When those Friday rendezvous ended, so did the last vestiges of my desire. June through August, we only averaged 2-3 times a month, and went close to five weeks once before Legs forced me down on the couch one afternoon, pulled down my pants and rode me hard and fast. Sadly, I didn't come, and went limp immediately following her orgasm. I can't blame it all on summer, however. Looking at my calendar (yes, I've been keeping track since going on bupropion) I see that we only did it on Fridays through the month of May. So something was up even then. It's not like I don't think about sex. I do think about it, maybe not as much as I did two years ago, but it's still one of my favorite subjects. But only rarely do I get excited by my own daydreams, and erections simply don't happen on their own. I doesn't help much that Legs' own libido has always been an order of magnitude below mine. I've always teased her that sexually, she's got a body like a Ferrari that she only ever drives around the block a couple times a month. Rarely does she venture onto the open road and just turn it loose. But at least she still likes those trips around the block, otherwise we wouldn't even have had those few times this summer that we did. The thing is, sex just doesn't seem worth the effort anymore. Today was one of the rare days where I didn't have to go in to work, and a couple of times throughout the day, as she took a break from her work, I thought "This would be a good time to rip off her clothes." Goodness knows she wouldn't have objected. But that would've involved me stopping what I was doing, getting up and going across the house, then actually undressing her... it just seemed like too much work. Crazy, right? So I've spoken with my physician, and we've cut my bupropion prescription by a third. That's been a month now, and I haven't felt any kind of return of the dysphoria that was the cause of all this in the first place. But I haven't felt any kind of return of my libido, either. In a few months, if I maintain stability with the current reduced dosage, we'll reduce it again. Eventually, if all goes well, I can get off it entirely. Or my libido returns, whichever comes first. Oh, and our Friday Funtime is back. Maybe having Legs' magic pussy jump-starting my cock every Friday will be the boost I need to carry me into the following week. I certainly hope so, because I sincerely miss having desire.
Monday, December 29, 2014
I'm still here, still wrestling with bupropion. The drug has definitely boosted my quality of, and outlook on, life, but my libido's yet to fully overcome its unexpected cock-blocking effect. I've been on the stuff for more than a year now, and despite an increase in dosage toward the end of summer, my body's settled into something of a equilibrium with it. I don't get spontaneous erections unless Legs and I go for a week or more without sex, but if she (or we) wants to do something, it only takes a few minutes of her attentions to get me hard. This sure as hell beats going limp in the middle of the act, as happened a few times early on. Once I'm hard, I can happily keep it up through whatever positions Legs wants until she's come to her satisfaction. Then we focus on my orgasm. Sadly, her and my orgasms have become two separate issues. The bupropion has desensitized me to a certain extent, and I'm not sure if this is unique to me or that I just wasn't paying attention before. I cannot come in the missionary position. Well, I can, but it is the opposite of satisfying. It takes a long time--a long time, thrusting to the point where Legs is uncomfortable and/or impatient, then pop, fizzle, a little semen and I go limp. No great convulsions of pleasure, no electrical orgasmic jolt. Just an overwhelming sense of a missed opportunity. This is troubling because despite its mundane reputation, I like missionary with Legs. I love watching her face as I thrust in her, her breasts bounce, her long legs wrap themselves around me, her long fingers play with my nipples... There's an interaction there that I love when coupled with an actual orgasm, but leaves me unfulfilled when all I manage is a half-hearted spurt. I imagine this is what premature ejaculation is like, except for the fact that there's some intensity behind that. Our solution? Doggy style. Almost exclusively. We'll do whatever she is in the mood for, from whatever angle pushes her particular buttons at the time, but once Legs has come I'll pull out and she'll get onto her knees, presenting her lovely ass to me. I position the head of my cock against her labia, and Legs slides herself onto me (I don't know why, but I find that incredibly erotic--she's finished herself, but still actively working to make me come. I know that's not unusual between lovers, but I find it hot nonetheless). From then on, it's off to the races. When I fuck Legs that way--fondling her beautiful, firm ass, her pussy squeezing and sucking on my cock, I have explosive, convulsive, shoot-my-balls-out-through-my-cock orgasms. Why? I don't know. My orgasms have always been consistent no matter the position, but since I've been on the medication that's not been the case. Only by taking her from behind do I still get to enjoy those powerful, satisfying orgasms, and I come quickly, too. I'm guessing that the angles and pressures of my cock in her pussy are more directly stimulating from behind than with missionary or other positions, but that's hardly scientific. Do any other men or women have the same experience? It's not like I have a close circle of friends to compare notes with.
Fucking Legs from behind for the better part of the year has led to an enabling of sorts for my leg fetish. The gif (quite a hot gif, I must say) above gives a little hint. It started by accident, by impulse. Thrusting inside her, fondling her ass wasn't enough. I needed more. I ran my hands up and down the backs of her thighs, and found I could do this without breaking rhythm. So I continued on to her calves, then found her ankles. Oh my. I wrapped my hands around each ankle and pulled up, pressing her heels into the sides of my thigh. Legs gasped at the unexpected move, balancing on her knees as I pumped into her faster and harder. I loosened my grip slightly and slid my little finger across her arch, then her toes, and she simultaneously squeezed my finger with her toes and my cock with her pussy. My excitement skyrocketed. It's one thing to do Legs with my hands on her hips, pulling her to me with each thrust, and quite another to hold her legs to my thighs, my cock and her pussy going at it without any other intervening body parts! Over the past few months this has become more and more my thing, and when I come with Legs it's ass and ankles more often than not.
I imagine that comes off a mildly weird--I'd expect it to, since various Google searches didn't turn up anything matching this particular obsession of mine (which is really freaking, considering how many bizarre variations did turn up). The gif above is one of the few images that comes close to matching my own particular kink, but to get maximum pleasure, the guy should be holding both ankles with a much firmer grip!
Wednesday, November 19, 2014
I had a nightmare last night. One of those hyper-real dreams that leave you confused when you finally awake and stick with you persistently as false memories. I rarely have nightmares, but when I do, it's invariably the hyper-real variety. And I hate them with a passion. Legs left me in the dream. Boom, out of the blue. She'd found someone new. She hadn't planned on it, hadn't expected it, but it happened and she was fine with that. To say I was shocked, stunned, devastated is an understatement. "How long?" I'd asked. "Six months," she answered. "The surprising thing is how easy it was to keep it from you." We met twice in the dream, first for the terrible revelation and then again for a final, chance encounter at the home we'd shared. As dream logic goes, I knew this was the last time she and I would ever be alone together. She was uncomfortable being so near to me--not because she feared or despised me, but because of the guilt my presence evoked. I can't remember the conversation we had, but it was a sad, wounded thing. What stood out the most was her dispassion toward me. She no longer felt any love for me, that was clear. But she bore me no animosity, either. My love for her was irrelevant. She'd made her decision, and I just happened to be collateral damage. I could keep the house, she said, if I bought out her share. If not, we'd sell and split the proceeds. She'd already moved in with the new guy, so it made no difference to her. Cold. Her last words to me: "Don't make this any worse than it has to be." I awoke at 2 a.m., trembling with my heart racing. Legs slept on beside me. It took me quite a while to calm back down, convince myself it was only a dream and go back to sleep. When I recounted the dream to Legs this morning, she winced at those last words. "I suppose you're going to be angry with me for the rest of the day because of that dream?" she asked. It's something of a running joke between us that she holds me responsible for unpleasant things her subconscious has me do in her dreams (which happens with surprising frequency). I was still too shaken for a witty comeback. In truth, the echos of that crushing emptiness are still with me. Even though I know them for the lies they are, they feel real. I don't quite know what triggered that particular dream. In close to two decades together, we've had a few big fights and countless petty squabbles but nothing serious enough to separate us. If I put myself on the therapist's couch, I'd say insecurity about my dramatically diminished libido (as a result of my bupropion prescriptio) is the root cause. While that's certainly a contributing factor (in the dream, Legs and her new man had taken delight in fucking for hours on a daily basis after I'd left for work), the truth is that Legs has made not secret of the fact that she's happy with the current state of affairs. Despite her hot body, her libido's always runs several gears slower than mine, and she likes having my cock when she's craving it and not the other way around. She and I have been together a long time, and I can honestly say I'm more attracted to her now than I've ever been. Until now, though, I don't think I'd quite realized just how indispensable she is to me.
Tuesday, March 11, 2014
I shave my penis. That's not something I've ever intended to share, but then I thought, what's the point of having an anonymous sex blog if I don't weird people out on occasion? But it's true. I shave my cock. I don't think even Legs knows this, although I've never tried to keep it a secret from her. See, hair grows up the sides and underside of my shaft, 2, maybe three inches along my length. Not fine down, mind you, but coarse pubic hair. Left alone, I swear my cock grows sideburns. Years and years ago, as a newly-minted non-virgin, I dated a woman, Cheryl, off and on for some months. Invariably, after a night of passion, we'd both end up raw and hurting, baffled as to why. It wasn't until much later that I realized it was the pubic hair on my shaft tangling with hers to cause the chafing. So I started shaving, thinking at the time that doing so was as weird as you are probably thinking right now. Weird, yes, but I've never chafed since.
Friday, March 7, 2014
Wanna know why I'm smiling right now? Because I had sex with Legs not more than an hour ago. It's okay to be jealous. I call it Friday Fun Time. Barring outside factors, I get to have my way with her every Friday morning. Obviously, Friday has become my favorite day of the week, and it has nothing to do with the start of the weekend. It all began a couple of years ago, when the alarm went off early one Monday morning. Legs moaned and rolled over, covering her head with her pillow. "Come on, get up," I prodded her. "Gotta get the kids ready for school." "You take them. Let me sleep late." "You already get an hour more sleep than I do every night. Up!" "Please," she insisted. "Let me sleep in on Mondays." Exasperated, I thought a moment. "Okay, you can sleep in. If I can do you." "What?" Legs sat up and gave me a dubious look. "If you sleep in Monday mornings, you give me a quickie another morning. I'll let you choose the day." Legs continued to stare at me, unconvinced. "You're the one who told me quickies don't take any effort on your part. I'm asking for five, maybe 10 minutes at the most," I said. "Isn't that worth sleeping in until 10?" She nodded. "You've got a deal." Then she flopped back down and buried herself in the covers. Summer vacation puts the damper on my Friday mornings, but throughout the school year, I've got something great to look forward to at the end of the week. And since my issues with bupropion began, these regular Friday morning tumbles have become much more important to me, not less. Even without normal desire, or waking up with an urgent erection that stays ready for the next hour or so until I take Legs, I can still perform. Whether I want to or not. That may seem silly, but to me it is reassuring. I need that. So after I made the last stop on my school delivery route, I turned back toward home instead of work. That always gives me a thrill, and my thoughts turn to Legs, her nude body gorgeous and willing. My cock, distressingly, remained inert at the thoughts. I locked the front door behind me, taking off my shoes and socks before climbing the stairs to our bedroom. Legs sat at her computer, answering emails. She was wearing a blouse but still in warm-ups. I rubbed her shoulders. "Hey, you," she said. "Let me finish answering this email real quick." I stepped into the bathroom, retrieved the Astroglide from a drawer and grabbed a hand towel. When I returned to the bedroom, Legs is reclined across our bed. I lean over her, slipping my fingers under her waistband and pulling her warmups and panties down the entire glorious length of her legs, exposing her neatly trimmed bush. That got a reaction. My limp cock stirred, finally. Even after all these years together, I still find her body incredibly hot. Hot enough to burn through some of the stupor brought on by bupropion. I pulled off my shirt, stepped out of my pants. I take a drop of Astroglide and spread it across the head of my cock, which has now grown to maybe 50 percent erect--it was close to its full length and girth, but still soft and flexible, not capable of penetration. Legs watched me with gentle concern. Before, she'd often pepper the moments before these quickies with teasing jokes and commentary, but now she focused more on helping. I ran my hands along the length of her legs, from her French-manicured toenails to her wedge of pubic hair, then gripped her knees and spread her legs wide apart. I kissed her left knee, working my way down her thigh to the hot, sexy, supermodel mole just to the left of her labia. I kissed it, then kissed her pubic mound. I slid my fingers over her pussy, slipping in and spreading her lips apart. She was moist, waiting for me. This morning, at least, I wouldn't have needed the Astroglide. I pulled myself up over Legs, the head of my cock pressed against her open lips. I tried easing into her, but my cock, maybe up to 75 percent hard by this point, bent rather than enter. Trying to not let frustration take over, I withdrew just a little, then bent down to kiss her neck, run my free hand over her thighs. An instant later, Legs' hands were all over me, rubbing my chest, my shoulders, my sides, fondling my nipples, all to help me along. I eased into her again. My head pushed apart her lips, but no farther. I pulled out, then slowly thrust again. Each time, I entered her a little more deeply, until with one big push I filled her completely. Legs smiled, closed her eyes and rested her arms above her head on the bed. "Go for it," she whispered. Legs' pussy was warm, soft and enveloping, wrapping itself completely around my cock as I thrust, but offering absolutely no resistance. She wrapped her legs around me, encouraging me deeper, pressing down on the small of my back. I grew steadily harder--how could I not?--until, finally, I could grow no harder. I pulled out entirely, my full erection glistening wetly over her pussy. Wordlessly, Legs rolled over onto her knees, presenting her sexy ass to me. Her pussy beckoned, open and ready. I slid my throbbing cock into her, and immediately Legs gripped me with her pussy, stroking, kneading. No longer soft and submissive, her pussy was now aggressive and firm with me, giving as good as it got. I ran my hands over her ass, gripping and squeezing and spreading, even as I watched my cock slide in and out of her. I pulled all the way out, my head trembling an inch away from her wet lips. I shoved myself into her, a hard, swift motion that slapped my balls against her mound and forced a gasp from Legs. Then I did it again. And again, watching my cock bury its entire length into her in an instant. Legs took it all, all the way, gasping as if I'm too much for her, but with her stroking, clenching pussy telling me otherwise. By this time, my cock ached. My balls ached. Bupropion? What bupropion? I couldn't remember ever not wanting her. Filling her full of come was my life's sole ambition. I could call in sick and do her over and over all day long. My desire boiled over. I wanted Legs, wanted to have her, to keep having her, in the worst way. I grabbed her right ankle and pulled her leg up against my thigh. I grabbed her left hip, forcing her deeper onto my cock. I pounded as hard as I could--that's all I could do at that point, so desperate for release into her--and I came with electric intensity bursting over me. And I came, and came. It's amazing how much semen builds up when you're not having sex. I held Legs' ass to me tightly, both hands on her hips, my cock buried deep into her has I felt the ejaculations continue even as my orgasm faced. Semen trickled down her legs, dripped from my balls. Finally, once I felt my cock soften, I relaxed my grip on her hips and started to pull out. As I did so, Legs squeezed her pussy tightly, milking the last bits of semen from me. Legs grabbed the towel, kissed me lightly and scampered off to the bathroom. I fell back, breathing heavily, aware of several things: 1) that had been one great orgasm, 2) once I'd come, my desire had fled as quickly as my erection, and 3) my five-minute quickies were now taking close to half an hour. Yeah, I love Fridays.