Date Boners: Tonight I Had a Teenage Dork Moment

Once in a while I’ll have a flash back: not a flashback of a memory, more like my body will forget I’m no longer a teenager.  Which is strange – there’s been plenty of time for this fact to sink in.

You might be wondering, “what’s so bad about that? Who wouldn’t want to feel like a young teen again – for a moment at least? Answer, someone who never knows when such a flash back will happen – and when it always seems to happen at the most inconvenient time.

For example, on a first date with someone – like I was tonight. Have you ever gotten turned on by something so minor that you felt like a total dork? or, horny dog? or, creepy god forbid?

Tonight was so ridiculous. Safe to say I’ve seen enough girls in panties – plenty without for that matter – there’s no excuse for tonight’s reaction. I’m avoiding the details, it’s embarrassing – but here you go…

We were at this bar/restaurant playing pool and talking – very comfortable and innocent situation. The “incident” came up so fast and randomly.

She mentioned she worked  just a couple blocks away from where we were. I told her she should have told me – I could have met earlier so she wouldn’t have had to go home and back. (her home is a ways – over five miles, maybe ten. )

She said, “No, it’s fine, I had to go home and date prep anyway.”

I ask her what she meant by date prep. She rattled of some things.. wash up, have a glass of wine, feed dog, etc. etc… “and put on some pretty underwear of course.”

I was just wanting to verify I heard the last part correctly, and asked, “you put on some pretty underwear?”

“Yea, see,” she said. And she pulls her pants down her hip a bit – flashing me the strap of her panties.

I ask her to show me again – because I wanted to seem more it was too fast to see. The bar was empty (Wednesday) and we were off in the corner – nobody else was in a position to see. Then it happened. She pulled the front of her pants out and down, giving me quick full frontal view of her in her panties: yes, they were “pretty underwear.”

They looked like this:

panties2

It was innocent enough; perhaps you had to be there, but in context it wasn’t sleazy – not as inappropriate as it probably sounds.

What was inappropriate, is that my body had one of these flash backs, and ridiculously, i got a boner.

I know, right? What grown man gets a boner over a two second panty flash? Answer, you’re looking at him. Or, you would be if you were here.

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Well we have it: 100% unanimous reader vote as to which book to finish up next.

I believe this is the first unanimous reader poll (which received more than a few responses) that I’ve ever conducted.  Was it the ass licking part? LOL, hey, that would be reason enough to get my vote!

I’d planned on needing to give the Which shall I finish up first? poll more time time than this, but given that literally, exactly, completely 100% of the respondents voted in favor of  The Roommates, the directive is clear. 

(BTW, damn good choice, the story is arguably the hottest and most interesting I have to tell)

Thank you all for helping me me find direction with this.

Next up for publication:

The roommates: Renting a room in a condo, Living with Judy and Jayme

This true story started when I moved back to LA for a job and needed a place to live in a hurry. I found a place through Craig’s list. It was a 3 bedroom, two story, two bath condo that two girls were living in. One of the girls, Judy, owned the condo, her parents helped her buy it the year before, and she needed to rent out the third room in order to afford the payments.

The other tenant, Jayme, was the daughter of friends of Judy’s parents. (so, sort of a friend). She was spending a lot of nights with her boyfriend, and Judy was looking for another tenant, in case Jayme moved out to live with her boyfriend.

My time living with these two lasted just over eleven months, but was unforgettable.  Things started getting interesting when the owner Jenny met a guy and started having him over, unbeknownst to her boyfriend. I could hear her on the other side of my wall.  Eventually, the three of us got entangled, and the story becomes complicated and super hot.

Highlights:

  • Hearing my straight laced landlord, Judy, having sex – and orgasms – with a guy she started having over and cheating with.

  • Seeing Jayme lick Judy’s ass – first time I ever saw a woman lick another in such a way.

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.

 

 

 

A Weekend in the Life Part 6: But First a fight

Wait – the story started here with…

Part one: One weekend in my life as a college sophomore.

and then it continued on to …

Part Two: Weekend in the life: wet lips, hard parts, loud coming, blond bush,

and …

Part Three: Anal and More Anal

and …

Part Four: Weekend in the life: Sheryl comes and goes, stage is set

and …

Part Five: Weekend in the life: There is Calm Before the Debauchery.

and then here to …

Part Six

In my cleverness, I figured the occasion an opportunity to sneak some questionable behavior for cheap. I was already feeling sick with guilt from the Sheryl escapade, whatever I might do to feel guilty about for at least the next twenty four hours, would be added to the price I was going to be paying anyway. (wow, perhaps I was brilliant.)

I mainly wanted anything that could distract me from the self loathing. When I drank, in addition to the hangover, I always had the “guilts” the next day. Even when I didn’t do anything very wrong (not likely). At that moment after Sheryl Left, I had the usual guilts for my overindulgence the night before, I had the Sheryl stunt  compounding upon things.

As a matter of surviving my state of mind, I had to engage in something profoundly distracting. The first distraction to come was a big one – but not the sort I was hoping for. My two asshole roommates returned. My actual roommate still hadn’t returned from his girlfriend’s. He was cool and became a good friend; The two that shared the other room were nothing like us – and weren’t fond of us. They were Juniors – had a year on us, and were more down to  business, my roommate and I were more interested to learn about ourselves – or, about women and indulgences The dick roommates are a whole other story – not a very sexy one like this would be.

Just for context, picture the most anally retentive person you know; now, image they were ridiculously arrogant and smug. I was a bit cocky too, but in a very different way. While i may have had confidence in myself, the roommates arrogance involved looking down on everyone.

They couldn’t have paired us all better – my roommate and I were wild and rule breaking free spirits who got along with most everybody – usually too busy judging ourselves to pass judgement upon our school mates.

The other two roommates didn’t hang out with anyone in the complex – except for my neighbor friend Natalia and her roommate. About once a week for a month or two – they’d been having the girls over for a formal, sit down meal. My roommate and I were never invited – we’d often be waiting for Natalia to be done with the torture and come play with us.

The most arrogant and rigid of the two confronted me as I was getting a drink from the fridge. Both of them did – but it was just “Branton” the arrogant douche who did the talking. It wasn’t much of a discussion. I was going to apologize about the morning, but he saved me the trouble – he wanted to bitch and threaten me. He said something about no more having people over after (whatever time) and before (whatever time). I didn’t take note – wasn’t any chance in hell I’d have some douche roommate dictate my behavior or lay down some curfew. I would have listened to his concerns and probably even made some concessions; was never my intention to be inconsiderate.

Branton was worked up. After he laid down his rules for me, as soon as he paused for a breath, I calmly responded, how about you go fuck yourself, I live here, I’d do what I please. I thought it was a reasonable response to such threatening demands. Turns out it triggered him a bit. He charged right at me and plowed me into the refrigerator. Before I”d even decided my next move, his cuck buddy roommate was pulling him off and getting between us.

It was sort of funny actually. Branton pointed his finger and yelled about how he was going to kill me and throw me through a wall. Amazing how strong his small buddy was – keeping this larger, enraged guy from getting to me. I was grateful for it – the issue hardly ranked as something worth fighting for. There’s very few things I will fight for – being offended isn’t one of them. I’d only fought three times since grade school. As hot headed as Branton was, I think it would have ended bad for him as it had for the others I’d’ fought  – he must have thought so too or he’d have gotten around his small friend.

A full on fight was diverted for the time being, but now that the issue was in play, further confrontation was inevitable. I wasn’t going to live another night with the asshole – some maniac who attacks me. He wasn’t worth fighting – it was an easy decision to leave. I left the apartment with my keys – knowing I had to stay away for the rest of the weekend, or fight Branton.

I went straight to the university housing office, told them my roommate attacked me, and needed to be rehoused. They hopped right on it – apparently getting attacked by enraged roommates was high on the list of acceptable reasons to request housing reassignment. They told me to check back in a few hours and they’d find me some options.

Yes, you are right – not very sexy this talk about angry roommates and fighting; it’s a big part of everything that happened that weekend – perhaps not great to read about and not much fun to write about, but the contrast and context is will will hopefully make the next part of this story sing.

We shouldn’t give up on this story just yet, because here’s where the story of the weekend really begins. The darker moments of the weekend were behind me, and it didn’t take an hour before the story changes dramatically.

I did say at the end of the last part, that the next post would be very crazy and hot. The hot part I promised starts with the next part of the story, my word on it.

Weekend in the life: There is Calm Before the Debauchery.

Wait – the story started here with…

Part one: One weekend in my life as a college sophomore.

and then it continued on to …

Part Two: Weekend in the life: wet lips, hard parts, loud coming, blond bush,

and …

Part Three: Anal and More Anal

and …

Part Four: Weekend in the life: Sheryl comes and goes, stage is set

and then here to …

Part 5

I watched her get into the shuttle. I felt like an asshole – so disappointed in myself. I felt guilt. Not for the stuff we did sexually; if anything we used each other for it. What I did was worse; I talked her into flying to another state to cheat on her boyfriend – while   actually I was just drunk and had no interest in seeing her.  She wasn’t stupid – she knew what was going on; She was kind enough to let me off the hook – could have made me pretend all weekend.

I drank another margarita while I thought about how I needed to moderate my drinking. At least she was gone already, so quickly. I was guilty but free. The sex was pretty sexy – so it wasn’t all for nothing. She did call out another guy’s name – thankfully – was the only excuse I could keep in mind to feel less guilty.

I’m a good guy – but my hormones and substance indulgences early in college compelled me to make some less than empathetic decisions. Talking Sheryl into visiting while I was drunk, when I hardly liked to be around her sober, felt like a new kind of bad drunken decision – one I couldn’t detach from – blame it on the alcohol.

I knew why I thought to call Sheryl  –  why I liked her when I was drunk – probably same reasons why anybody would. I knew she was a nice person, but her weakness turned me off. I found her inauthentic for trying so hard; for trying to be a blond bombshell despite having a face that would forever deny her such a distinction.

At the time – I thought I was not attracted to Sheryl because i saw through her – had her figured out; I had no idea that in Sheryl’s weakness and efforts to be something more than she was – I was seeing in replica – the folly in my own behavior – vulnerability of my own story.

Although it would be a while before I’d discover it – I was no better – was pretending things too. I came from not far above average money – had a bit of my own – but was trying to fit in with many around me who were wealthy enough to want to hide it.  Also, I was not far above average smart  – but was trying to pass for brilliant like some others around me genuinely were.

Sheryl and I both had yet to grow into ourselves and drop the pretense. Greater depth, self-awareness and humility continued to evade me for at least another year and my first several acid trips – and until the money ran out.

Being too broke to afford a toy watch, or matchbox car , is  fast way to learn that wealth isn’t a watch or a car.  And, confidence – or talent – even “brilliance” – toxic concepts. Talent and confidence are lazy foreman, stuffing their faces, impatiently waiting for the job to get done.   Hopefully Sheryl learned that her real beauty was far more than a pretty face. One way or the other, as people grow up, most learn that greatness and strengths can’t be faked: we can fool ourselves; it’s unlikely we’ll fool others about who we’re fooling.

Sheryl was already benefiting from her insecurities: she was humble and giving; she kept her body in perfect shape and dressed classy and sexy.  For all my naivete, i did appreciate her kindness – and when push came to shove, she never failed to turn me on and get me horny.

Thinking back – I hate to think what she must have thought about me – and how bad I probably hurt her feelings. I wish I could go back to that moment and kick my own ass.

Okay – damn, I’m sorry . I was supposed to be telling a hot story here. Don’t worry – we’ve only gotten up to 2pm on Saturday; there’s a lot more to tell, trust me – I didn’t chose that particular weekend randomly.

Stay tuned for the next part  – where I’ll resume the telling of the weekend in life as a college sophomore.

What you might have thought to be the main act of this show – the climax – tip of the arch even, was just foothills before an Everest of what happened next; coming in Sheryl’s ass was not even the previews before the movie – more like the lame slide show of treats and refreshments that those who arrive too early must suffer though.

The next part of this story will kill the lights and fire up the projector.

And now you may read on to…

A Weekend in the Life Part 6: But First a fight

Part Three – Anal and More Anal

Wait – the story started here with…

Part one: One weekend in my life as a college sophomore.

and then it continued on to …

Part Two: Weekend in the life: wet lips, hard parts, loud coming, blond bush,

and then here to …


Part Three

“I’ll get over it,” I said. “But, really, you probably should just go – if you’re feeling that bad about being here.”

“I’ve already come.. I’ll go if you want but I’d rather stay now that I’m here? I really am sorry, what can I do to redeem myself?”

“What will you do?”

“Name it. Forgive me and let’s have a good time… tell me what you want and I’ll do it.”

“Okay, how about anal sex right now?”

“What? I’ve never done that.”

“So, no?”

“If you forget my little faux pas  and all will be cool, okay.”

“No way, You have too had anal sex? You’re lying,” I said. I was just confirming – I actually believed it was true, because I hadn’t had anal sex.

Well, I hadn’t had it per se. I got my head inside my High school girlfriend once and then she made me stop. After that it became a big desire. The times when I didn’t come when she came, which wasn’t often – one of the few situations where my high school girlfriend showed vulnerability and let go of control – was while coming. That was hot and usually set me off two. But when I could hold through, when possible, I’d pull out and rub my tip on her ass while I came on it.

My next girlfriend was waiting until marriage, so I enjoyed this type of ending often. She like to lay on her stomach with a toy while I came on her ass – never let me in there. I’d had a few years of ass teasing – only – so ass from Sheryl was over payment for her slip up.

“Swear to god, NEVER!”

“So you will?”

“We can try, no promises. It’s an adjustment to take you normally, seriously not sure.”

“Okay, fair deal,” I said. I was quickly getting back hard as soon as I realized the ass might be happening.

I was fully hard by the time I was back from rummaging around my room for something lubricant like – I found some lip balm is all.

My roommates were up and about – TV on – making noise outside the room. They were just decent enough of people to not confront me while I had company – but I knew there’d be an issue later. I’d wanted anal for years and was about to get it – so fuck the persnickety roommates.

“Jesus, you’re enormous,” she said as I sat next to her on my bed.”

“Um, you’ve seen me before – we just had sex ten minutes ago.”

“I’ve never seen you before you were about to put it in my ass.”

“Good point. Sit down on me.”

“You owe me a fabulous fucking weekend dude.”

We started with her sitting down on my lap – while I sat on the bed – she had nothing to hold onto so we went to my desk. held onto the shelves –  turned on my desk light. My desk was right next to the door and just on the other side we listened to kitchen dishes clank, cupboards thumb – roommates were being louder on purpose – such bitches.

It seemed forever getting things going – she would sit down a little bit and then say “wait,” then try a bit more. If you’d done anal – you know the drill. My cock was at its penultimate hardness.

I was in her pretty good – she was over me – halfway or more – and we sat there in a holding pattern. She was quiet – I wasn’t sure where things would go from there but I was loving just sitting there – in her ass. A few of my roommate’s friends showed up – now there were at least four outside the door.

I would have been happy staying frozen with her all day like we were – her ass clenching around me was enough to keep me there – so I sat there and hoped only she’d not pull off me.

“You feel how hard you make me? Want to stop? Are we good?”

“Yes, as long as we stay still – it’s not hurting now. This is about the best I can do – not sure what you had in mind,  but..”

“This is fine – amazing actually, can we do this all day?”

“You like this?”

“Do you feel how hard I am? I am dizzy over this. Are you good?”

“Yes, feeling better. You deirginized my ass – how about  that? “

“I’m happy about it.”

“Naughty, huh? Your totally in my ass right now – kinda turning me on.”

I thanked god. Didn’t’ figure Sheryl or anyone would go too long with anything shoved up their ass if they weren’t turned on.

“She moved up and down a few times – tiny little bit.

“You want to stop?”

“No, just be still.”

Worked for me.Didn’t know if she’d get off on the activity like I was.

Oh my god the feel of her ass – no idea if the intermittent squeezes – contractions – were involuntary or her experimenting,

I started talking in her ear and reaching under her leg to rub her clit –

Then a roommate knocks on my door – obnoxiously – “Duncan – can you move your car?”’

We had four spots but two lanes.

“Can you just move it,” I said.

“You key’s aren’t in the bin.”

Fuck. my keys were on my night stand.

“Can we resume this position?”

“Yes, I need to use your bathroom first.”

I grabbed the keys  and Sheryl threw on my robe. – handed the keys to him as Sheryl ran out to the bathroom directly across the hall. I was rock hard – didn’t give a fuck. Roommate paused for a moment – deciding whether to be a dick and make me move the car.

So, I wait back in my room.

“Nice guy,” Sheryl said as she came back in.

“He’s not my biggest fan.”

“You’re still hard.”

“True.”

Sort of awkward silence ensued.

“I love your dick.”

“I love your ass.”

“It’s a bit much for my ass.”

“Okay, so you don’t want to resume where we left off? Thank you for doing it.”

“You can put it back in – but if you want to bang me – it can’t be there.”

“That’s fine just being in there.”

“Naughty boy.”

We ended up where we left off. I got her wet with the  wetness of her pussy this time. Maybe a bit deeper this time. We didn’t move much – and just started talking.

I think she was ½ turned on by how into it I was – and have amused or curious about the situation – whatever her reasons – she began to enjoy the engagement

“You going to just keep your cock in my ass all day?”

“I think so, yes.”

“You’re crazy. I’m crazy.”

And now you may read on to…

Part four: Weekend in the life: Sheryl comes and goes, stage is set

Isn’t this an erotica blog – what’s with the love poems, where’s the sex? Here it is.

Sex isn’t sexy if there’s just sex and not some other parts of life – perhaps tamer parts for the explicit to interrupt.

Most of my explicit content and erotic stories I save for publishing in the volumes of The Sinner Saint Diary books. I have decided to share some stories on the blog as well – mainly smaller, one offs that don’t really fit into any of the stories chosen for publishing.

Content warning: if you read this blog just for the “philosophical” content and have aversions to sexually explicit stories, click here to read Nineteen Things I’ve Learned About It..

One weekend in my life as a college sophomore.

After a Friday night of partying at a friends fraternity I woke up early to a phone call – it pierced like a shotgun blast through into a near death hangover.

“Hi, Duncan?”

“Yes?”

“I’m here downstairs – can you buzz me in?”

Fuck! Apparently I’d talked Sheryl into flying out – from Arizona to California. Thanks to the alcohol and half dozen lines, I had no memory of talking her into flying out for the weekend. Knowing myself, it wasn’t hard to guess what was happening.

“Hold on.”

Luckily my roommate had spent the night at his girlfriend’s – as usual. I tried to keep quiet for the two sleeping in the apartment’s other bedroom.

As soon as Sheryl got to my room she started in – removed my robe – kissed and grabbed. This was good – I didn’t have to pretend to remembered inviting her and act happy to see her.

It was around 9am – very early by college “apartment-dorm” standards on a Saturday. This was a problem – Sheryl was wanting to fuck. Fucking wasn’t the problem – the fact that she was the loudest girl i had ever been with was.

I met Sheryl at a summer job while home for the summer. She was a thin, tall, bleach blond sorority girl – dressed expensively and groomed meticulously – tried hard to be materialistic and Greek-cliche, but underneath she was shy, kind and really working hard to fit in with a shallower, more self assured crowd.

Sheryl was wearing a dressy skirt and blouse – can’t remember ever seeing her in anything other than a skirt. Her panties were always slinky and sexy – not sure if that was for seeing me or everyday. She had long legs and small perky tits with pronounced nipples longer than pencil erasers. Sheryl was skin-and-bones thin so the small breasts and assertive nipples harmonize beautifully and sufficiently with the rest of her. Her hair was the best – perfectly healthy and straight – long to the middle of her back. She was a natural blond – and by the fullness of her bush – proud of it.

So, Sheryl had gotten on a plane, flown to LAX (Los Angeles airport), taken a Super Shorty five minutes to my place and was dressed to the nines with full makeup – all by 9am… if that wasn’t reason enough to cooperate, her hand reaching down my shorts and fondling my dick was. Or, the hangover hornyness was. Do you get that? Do girls get hungover horny?

For a guy, hungover hornyness is when you wake up semi-hard, still a little drunk from the night before, feeling too brain dead to think, but ready to do anything pleasurable – to ride out the buzz residue and stave off the fully lucid and painful waves of recovery. Hungover sex – better than bacon.

Anyway, I’d only slept with Sheryl a couple times. Once in a hotel and once in my parents/family house while nobody was home. The time in the hotel I stopped much sooner than I would have – was sure there would be complaints if we continued. Very orgasmic girl – she’d come right away and keep coming – and keep vocalizing and moaning loud. It would have been unacceptable if it hadn’t been natural and sincere – if not for Sheryl being shy, appropriate and so prudent otherwise.

And now you may read on to…

Part Two: Weekend in the life: wet lips, hard parts, loud coming, blond bush,