Surprise Third Interview with Ashley from tinder: sex, exposure, secrets, risks

Just staring? You might want to read the first two interviews first

Sinner: : Welcome back. Few have actually made it to a third interview – for one reason or another – congrats, and thank you.

Ashley: : Do I get a prize

Sinner: : Maybe, have to think about that. So, the last interview was interesting, so, we’ll start where we left off. Regarding your friend’s husband, who you had that three way with one night, and who you apparently think about often while masturbating, …. why was he so memorable? What’s so great about him that you are so infatuated?

Ashley: : Infatuated is a bit much, but yes, I guess we can go with memorable. Umm, I guess it’s .. well he’s attractive and was only one of two since separating, so that probably conributes..

Sinner: : That’s it?

Ashley: : He took control I guess you could say. With my ex I was more the aggressive one.

Sinner: : So, he was firm and dominant with you? What else?

Ashley: : Something like that. Um…, I think he lasted for a while,  although I don’t remember exactly, and he was rather well endowed which I guess was interesting.

Sinner: : Oh, but I thought size doesn’t matter.

Ashley: : I didn’t say it mattered, I believe I said “interesting.”

Sinner: : How big was this interesting dick? bigger than your ex?

Ashley: : I don’t know, but yes, noticeably larger than my ex.

Sinner: : So that’s why you can’t get him off your mind.

Ashley: : Stop, I’ve been married forever, I don’t have a lot of experiences to work with here.

Sinner: : Would you do another three-way with them if you have the chance?

Ashley: : No, I’m not proud of it. The circumstances as they were, it happened, but I’d not do it again.

Sinner: : Okay. Show me your tits.

Ashley: : Show me your cock!

Sinner: : okay

Ashley: : You are crazy, I cannot believe you just did that.

Sinner: : Your turn.

Ashley: : Seriously wasn’t expecting that. Alright, don’t blink.

Sinner: : Awesome! Very hot, pointy.

Ashley: : Yes, I’ve heard them referred to as “missile tits.”

Sinner: : So that was fun.

Ashley: : Not sure whether I should feel offended or grateful, nobody’s ever exposed themselves to me before.

Sinner: : What, you asked/told me to.

Ashley: : True, didn’t think you’d actually do it, was just making a point.

Sinner: : I’m sorry.

Ashley: : it’s okay. It’s really, well, big, no?

Sinner: : no.

Ashley: : Liar, it looked like it unless I’m seeing things?

Sinner: : You’re seeing things.

Ashley: : Whatever you say. Am I supposed to concentrate now?

Sinner: : Of course, interview only half over.

Ashley: : Got it.

Sinner: : May I post a pic of your missile tits for readers to see?

Ashley: : Sure, as long as you post your cock next to it.

Sinner: : No way.

Ashley: : There you go.

(she wouldn’t let me post a pic but I found a photo that is similar)

missile

Sinner: : Did you have a boyfriend before you got married? before your husband?

Ashley: : Yes, a couple. I had a somewhat serious boyfriend in high school, and one in college. So, two serious relationships before I met my husband.

Sinner: : What were they like? Why did you break up?

Ashley: : The high school one ended with high school, and I met my husband, ex husband, while dating the college one. My high school boyfriend wanted sex all the time, for the most part, and my college boyfriend, well, he did too, but.

Sinner: : LOL That’s high school and college guys for you. Who was the
best in bed? who do you miss the most? Where they better than your ex husband in anyway?

Ashley: : Although I had nothing to compare him to at the time, my boyfriend in high school compared very well, I still think about him sometimes. My boyfriend in college was the most confident but not so great compared to the others. My husband was fine at first but his drinking eventually made it not so good.

Sinner: : What was so good about the first?

Ashley: : Again, he was more aggressive, I guess.

Sinner: : And, was he the biggest, or ?

Ashley: : Yes, from what I remember.

Sinner: : How could you not remember?

Ashley: : Time plays tricks, I’ve been with one man for a long time. They were all around the same size, normal I guess, none particularly large like Dan, my friends husband, or like you.

Sinner: : You’ve never seen me hard, how would you know I’m any different?

Ashley: : True, I just saw you for a moment, but judging by that

Sinner: : Fair enough, I can take it out while we finish up if need be.

Ashley: : What? Take what out, your cock? I think I got a clear picture, but if you want to, go for it.

Sinner: : Like this.

Ashley: : You are totally insane, for those not here, he took it out and it’s right, um, out.

Sinner: : You know what’s fucked up, if I was creepy and ugly, you’d be offended.

Ashley: : Who says I’m not?

Sinner: : Wow, you are?

Ashley: : Yes, of course. But, keep it out, need to look at this.

Sinner: : WTF, you’re offended that I have my dick out but want me to keep my dick out?

Ashley: : Exactly.

Sinner: : So then you’re not really offended.

Ashley: : Maybe not totally.

Sinner: : Okay, any thoughts or you just going to look at me?

Ashley: : Looking? moi? Next question.

Sinner: : Who was better, that Tinder guy you slept with or the friends husband?

Ashley: : That’s easy, friend’s husband. The Tinder guy was nothing special, obviously, as I haven’t seen him again.

Sinner: : How many times in a week do you masturbate?

Ashley: : Um…, two to four times probably. Some weeks I’m like insatiable and other weeks not so much. Last week I was crazed, like non stop. Don’t know what’s come over me.

Sinner: : Wow, so non stop masturbating, you were really horny?

Ashley: : Wondering if there’s something seriously wrong with me, I’ve been crazy with that lately. Ahhhh, you put it away, I’m much less offended now.

Sinner: : I’m sorry.

Ashley: : I’m totally giving you a hard time.

Sinner: : Yes you are. 😦

Ashley: : Aw, don’t pout, I’ll eventually recover from the trauma.

Sinner: : Trauma? ouch.

Ashley: : Better you think I’m traumatized than mesmerized.

Sinner: : You’re mesmerized?

Ashley: : Shut up, anymore questions?

Sinner: : Yes, is there anything sexually that you did with either of your two first boyfriends that you never did with your husband?

Ashley: : hmm, well my second, college boyfriend and I were very, um.., experimental.

Sinner: : And?

Ashley: : Let’s just say that I put my tongue in a certain place that I never did with my husband. Enough said on that.

Sinner: : Oh, you licked the boyfriends ass?

Ashley: : As I said, enough said.

Sinner: : Who made you come most often, and how many orgasms have you had  during one session of sex?

Ashley: : It’s a typical thing with me you could say, never had much difficulty there. Just a guess, maybe five to seven times? Not sure, but several times.

Sinner: : Wow, so you come easily? quickly?

Ashley: : Yes.

Sinner: : How many times did you come with your friends husband that one time?

Ashley: : That’s actually what I was referring to with the five to seven. I honestly don’t remember, but it was many.

Sinner: : wow.

Ashley: : blush.

Sinner: : Little does your husband – ex husband – know.

Ashley: : Yup, oh god, it would kill him.

Sinner: : You going to tell him about it?

Ashley: : God no, that would be cruel.

Sinner: : Did you come so many times because you were licking your friend’s clit?

Ashley: : It may have added to the excitement but mainly it was him, not really into the other stuff.

Sinner: : So you haven’t imagined anything with her since?

Ashley: : I didn’t say that. Now I’m blushing. No, I mean, there are aspects of it that are interesting, yes, but..

Sinner: : Fair enough, it’s hot sometimes to think about licking your friends pussy, but her husband dominating you with his big, hard, commanding cock is hotter?

Ashley: : Close enough.

Sinner: : Awesome. Well that about covers things I guess.

Ashley: : Do I get to ask you anything?

Sinner: : No.

Ashley: : That is fair.

Sinner: : Kidding. Nobody every wants to, but if there’s anything you want to ask, be my guest.

Ashley: : Does anyone you talk about on your blog know about it, have any found it?

Sinner: : A couple characters in the stories know (one I had major negotiations with about it) , and funny you ask, my most recent ex girlfriend just found it. I was very embarrassed, but oddly enough, it turned her on. I would love to get a couple main characters to do a live interview, but those that know about it are too worried about anonymity so far – as am I, so I totally understand.

Ashley: : Why don’t you have photos of yourself on the blog? or, god forbid, of your cock? Just saying, what would it hurt?

Sinner: : I’m shy and private. I am very traditional in every other aspect – as are my parents and siblings who would die if they saw this, so face photos are too risky. A cock photo would be too creepy and remove the mystery, not my style. I know, I did just whip it out, but I’ve seen your breasts and you want to get with me, so it’s different.

Ashley: : Wait, you showed me you first, before I showed my breasts.

Sinner: : True.

Ashley: : Umm, and, what’s this about me wanting to get with you?

Sinner: : You don’t?

Ashley: Screw you, I do, but…

Sinner: : LOL

Ashley: : Shut up!

Sinner: : LOL, I love it. So, you saw my cock and now want to get with me?

Ashley: : Quit while you’re ahead, maybe?

Sinner: : Okay, so now we aren’t answering, that’s fine – just so I know

Ashley: : You’re putting words in my mouth

Sinner: : Oh, okay, I’m sorry. So, I need to retract the stuff about you wanting to get with me and all because you saw my cock

Ashley: : Definitely not, because I saw your cock. We shall see, as far as me wanting to “get with you. Seeing your cock didn’t hurt, but…

Sinner: : Well now I’ve lost track of truth here, but okay, I’ll not pin you down on this if you wish to get out easy.

Ashley: : What? Fine, ask me a straight question and I’ll answer.

Sinner: : When did you masturbate last?

Ashley: : Last night.

Sinner: : What is the nastiest of your routine fantasies while masturbating?

Ashley: : Probably one involving two men, or sometimes more.

Sinner: : You mean, a guy in your pussy and another in your ass at the same time?

Ashley: : where else would they be? oh, well my mouth, okay.

Sinner: : I like your jeans, and what panties are you wearing, if any? please describe.

Ashley: . Thanks, and yes I’m wearing white ones, thongs I believe.

Sinner: : Believe or know?

Ashley: : I know smart butt.

Sinner: : Let me see.

(she just pulls the waistband of them above her jeans. they are white, the thong part has not been confirmed.)
(this is getting long, will post the rest in a separate post)

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This is true – to the letter, so it better be hot: last week in Vegas continued…

One thing that is different now, I do less gambling but bet much more. When I was younger, I’d play more games, gamble much later- start much earlier, and usually play until there wasn’t enough left to gamble with.

Now, I don’t waste time on games I don’t want to play – and don’t gamble just to waste time. And, I don’t join a table because hot women are there. I still don’t enjoy gambling sober, but now I’ll pay for a martini or two, and won’t gamble ahead of a buzz. And when I do, I throw it down. It is a losing bet, an unfair deal… and then there’s luck. Why should we project undo requirements of prudence upon behavior that is so favored against us that we must be getting drunk to engage in.

I say fuck it, if I’m going to do something stupid, volunteer for odds against me, make a it a statement; luck doesn’t need time to think things over, I play roulette mainly, and am not a high roller; still, I’ve got over $100 out there on any given role.

I wasn’t winning the first night, but not losing enough to go to bed. Eventually the Irish coffees or tequila shots, put to rest thoughts about going to bed. I think the rest of the family had gone to sleep – the high rollers and my Aunt may have been up gambling somewhere.

I was playing downtown where the casinos are a bit more casual – the minimum stakes more affordable. At this place, the dealers actually take rotations dancing on tables in the pit when they’re not dealing. 100%, look it up. So, many of the dealers had good bodies, – some were clearly not hired for their counting skills: not a problem, I can count.

I cannot recall how many times I’ve tried to score with dealers – too many times. I can recall how many times I succeeded. Zero. Even a few times when I was sure it was a lock – that we were practically soulmates, zero. Unless there is a conspiracy against me, dealers cannot and do not fuck the gamblers; ever. So, I’ve long since stopped bothering.

The dealers were friendly – one of them was particularly fun. I focused on my numbers, yet couldn’t ignore her huge tits and how they came out of her bikini-like top almost to where her nipples had to be but never farther. They were natural, not “Vegas brand” boobs – (yes, relax, it’s trivial but I’m a guy – and for some, these details are interesting)

I’d never heard the name before, “Perlah.” Perlah was in her early thirties and had a very large chest – unlike May, the only other Filipina I’d ever been with, (read my first book Dare for full details on that)
I was sitting in the one seat at every roulette table that’s on the inside of the table, right next to the dealer. This dealer, Perlah, was being flirtatious with the table. I was drinking and concentrating.

A few of the guys at the table were flirting back, one was being obnoxious – he kept trying to grab the dealer’s hand as she waved “no more bets.” Also, he kept trying to “brommunicate” to me how great her tits were. Then my upper arm ran into her tit while I was reaching across to put chips on the number eight – was an innocent accident on both our parts, but the collision was right on the money.

I apologized, of course; she must have noticed I was the more embarrassed about the mishap so she teased me.

“Hey, no hitting on the dealer,” she said.

“No, sorry, not doing that.  I bet it gets really old – I’m sure you have drunk guys hitting on you non-stop – working here.”

“And girls,” she said.

Hmm, that was a fun answer. “Girls?”

“Sometimes.”

“Anyway, when I’m ready to hit on you, I’ll try to choose a tactic other than ramming my elbow into you. I’m kidding, won’t hit on you, you’ve got enough of that to deal with… not that I… you know what I mean.

“See, the handsome guys don’t, unfortunately.”

Polite – patronizing – or, what was she saying, doing exactly? Perhaps my tequila shots were hearing things? But, it’s in my nature to seek clarity:

“Who, I’m handsome?”

“Duh.. no more bets.” She said.

“Careful, I might have another accidental collision with your boob if you keep talking like that.”

“Promise?”

What the fuck, she’s hitting on me now, right? Crazy. I was careful not to ram her boob again, but we kept talking. I told her about the other Filipina I knew, May. I didn’t tell her what happened at the “Dare” party of course, but I did tell her about May’s strict parents, and how shy May was until she’d get a few drinks in her, then not so-shy.  Perlah said it sounded like her, what I was describing about May.

“What, you go from serious casino dealer to nympho after a few drinks?”

“I don’t know, ‘ you’d have to buy me a few drinks to find that one out I guess.”

No she didn’t… what? She’s fucking with me… or, maybe not?

“Okay, now you’re teasing.. and flirting for tips; but, no doubt I’d like to make that experiment happen.

“How rude, I don’t flirt for tips, I flirt for free,” she said.

I was confused, and horny, and … mainly confused, so I let it go.

Perlah rotated to another table and I played for another hour before she returned. While she was gone, I looked around the room to see where she was – a few times; and, one of the times, she noticed and looked back right at me. The look she gave me left me spinning in thought – fantasizing, interpreting…. I didn’t regain full vigilance until Perlah returned to my table.

This time around, we both knew something was happening – subliminally, hyper-hormonal,  she was dealing her table as I was playing, but we were both somewhere else, alone, negotiating.

Still, I wasn’t going to move on this – dealers don’t play – wasn’t going to fall for it.

She told me she was off after the next rotation. Then waited two more rolls before elaborating. “A few of us might go have a drink at the Golden Nugget after we get done if you want to join us. I’m done here in a few minutes and should be over there in about twenty – not sure how long I’ll be there though, have to get home.

I had several questions – didn’t dare ask any.

“Okay,” I said, and found her at the Golden Nugget half hour later. She stood up and gave me a hug – it is farther than I’d ever gotten with any dealer, or pit boss (don’t judge – I’ve seen a few hot pit bosses). She had changed out of her sexy dealer/dancer outfit, into a pants & t-shirt, civilian looking one.

There was one co-worker there with her, who gave me a big, tit-squishing, hug when Perlah introduced me.

“This is the handsome man causing me distraction all night.”

“This is the gorgeous dealer making me not care that I was losing money all night.”

 

Continued – see next post

 

My Family Vegas Trip As an Old Fuck – Don’t Knock it Until You Read This

Money – Politics – Sex – Death – Tragedy – Gossip – Did I Say Anal? – Infidelity – Something Crazy – Something New – Stupid Hot Stuff – Just stupid stuff – Sex – Naughty sex – Humanity

For those of us who grew up in the US, we’ve probably done Vegas as a young adult; if you have, you know the story: we think we know what we’re doing gambling, and lose our shirt learning we don’t know shit. We could have recognized that those who do know what they’re doing, often lose their shirts. But, with me anyway, I learn by doing. (and by doing I mean losing).

The upside, when we’re young in Vegas, we go to clubs, look good, are energized all night long, and most likely hookup. That’s Vegas for a young adult, and it doesn’t suck.

So, I’m way past twenty, and just returned from Vegas, to report this week’s version of an older person’s “Vegas.”

I’ve been in Vegas since Saturday, left yesterday and returned home atoday. I was in Vegas to meet up with my parents, a few sisters, a few cousins, an Aunt, and few high rollers from the UK – gambling friends of the aunt’s. Not exactly a bachelor party is sort of what I’m saying. Not to say my family can’t be fun.

I’ll save discussion of family dynamics for my “health, fitness and prayer for the modern family” blog; on here, we’ll get right to the more human aspects.

Having spent enough time in Vegas in my late teens and twenties, I can compare and contrast on a few things; then,, I suppose, I’ll just tell you the stuff that happened; perhaps not as crazy as some times when I was 22, but this account might give you pause if you were thinking Vegas doesn’t get crazy for those of us over thirty.

I’m still trying to figure out if my readers appreciate reading the raw stories about my life – like this – or prefer the more philosophical, or better articulated at least, postings. For those in the latter, you might appreciate my next post after these – and may find this discussion too crass or degenerate for your taste. But, for any interested, this is the raw honest scoop/dirt on my middle-aged, family vacation to Vegas.


My family Vegas Trip As an Old Fucker

anyone interested in hearing this? Anyway, let me know while I write it.

 

 

 

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Morning Little Secrets and Raging Hardness

I know I’ve been working too hard and playing too little when, at my age, I wake up with a raging hard on two mornings in a row.

This morning it wanted to stick around… unfortunately, it’s not “take your hard cock to work day,” so I had to stroke it, and I think I will once more after writing this.

I often have to clean up afterwards, because I sort of like to see the cum as it comes out. Is that weird? To much information?

If my profligate cum bothers you, you’re welcome to come over here and help  constrain it.