Dr G certified psychologist dissection/interview: Savior, Phallus complex, Marriage, non Marriage

Dr G:: interview

Okay, this is a risky interview for both parties. In order to get Dr G to agree to this interview, I actually had to agree to terms in writing – first time.

  • She was guaranteed full final approval of all content and redaction – redaction have been noted.
  • There must be no subsequent disclosure without full consent.
  • Dr G reserved the right to pull the interview at anytime before or after publication.

These terms were completely understandable and fair. The Dr. has a well known practice,  and is taking risk on behalf of contributing to my blog. It might be my undoing, but I immensely appreciate the Dr for her professional, unique and consequential contribution the SSD blog.

SS: Thank you for taking time to do this. Would you please introduce yourself and what you do?


Dr G: Thank you, I can say this is a first for me. I am a wife and mother to three children, two in high school and one just completing her first year of college. I am a board certified couple & family psychologist. in private practice. [redaction]

SS: Did you read anything on my blog before this interview.

Dr G::: All of it.

SS: Uh oh. And your thoughts – why are you doing this interview despite reading “all of it?”

Dr G: Well, it’s an entertainment blog, right? I find it entertaining. I’m not sure if many of those who read the blog meet you first, but that was an interesting factor – this nice unobtrusive gentleman with these sexual admonitions. You make it clear that you speak from a layman’s perspective and, unlike I’ve seen by some others online, you’re discussing and not advising. That said, measured against the cases I’ve treated, I find your anecdotes or “on the ground in the field” research highly plausible. The stories you speak of are either true, or you’re an experienced psychologist or an exceptionally perceptive artist, whichever the case, I’d say there’s value in what you’re saying.

SS: So you don’t find the sexual parts “true to form?”

Dr G.: Therapy usually doesn’t get as sexually explicit, or specific. It’s probably part of what makes your tails interesting, they include the hidden and forbidden parts of the story.

SS: So, you don’t discuss explicit or specific sexual matters with your patients?

Dr G.: Sometimes, but more often the parts that hurt or are problematic are addressed, as opposed to those aspects most provocative and stimulating shall we say. [redaction here]

SS: I gave you the option to do this interview over text if you wanted and you chose to do this in person, why? I’m glad you did BTW, just curious?

Dr G: Primarily to get my little contract signed and felt I would have more control over the publishing, or non-publishing process. Secondarily, I figured we might as well keep it real and here I get to see your collection of musical instruments and your art.

SS: So you read “all of it,” you say, you didn’t read my first publication Dare did you?

Dr G. I said all of it, yes I purchased and read “Dare”

SS: Wow. But, thank you very much for doing so – I would have of course sent you a copy for free – you’ve got a life time membership to the Sinner Saint Diary series now. So, I’m afraid to ask, but based on everything you’ve read – can you give me a non-binding, off the record, off the cuff psychological summary or profile of me?

Dr G. : If I had a month to do so. Kidding. Let’s be clear this is premature, non-professional and as you say “non-binding.” There’s the most obvious, apparent commitment issues. I’ve met you and there’s no perceivable reason other than your psychology why you haven’t married or had more long term relationships. You seem to have a strong desire to rescue, a “savior complex” of sorts. I get the sense that you feel you’ve harmed, or let someone be harmed, and you have a compulsion to undo or make up for it. I suspect your guilt is out of proportion and you’ve judged yourself too severely. Then there’s the “elephant in the room,” a pronounced phallus-related complex. Perhaps you have failed or feel insecure about accomplishing your “saving” people with your mind? Or, have a perception of inadequacy about your intellectual desirability? Or, perhaps you feel inadequate physically, so you compensate through your stories? Could be many reasons, but the fact that your genitalia play such a role, seems a pointer baring a degree of psychological significance.

SS: What an answer, thank you for not giving some safe, “I’d need more info,” answer. I feel dissected and revealed – but I asked for it. So, this penis complex I have, that’s tough love, but fair enough, I’d like to get to the bottom of that. Clinically speaking, would it help narrow down the possible root of the complex if you’d seen my “phallus?”

Dr G: It may have eliminated one or two possibilities, but we could probably  understand the fixation with some discussion.

(It’s’ embarrassing enough to be hearing about this “phallus complex” I supposedly have, not going to give the inadequacy theory any oxygen. Here in the interview I walked over to the kitchen to grab the wine bottle for refills – and briefly flashed my dick to Dr G on the way.)

Dr G.: Okay, new data, what time might be saved if I’d had a photo of certain patients nude. Kidding. Do you not tend to feature your phallus prominently as compared to other aspects in many of your stories, and if so, why do you suppose that is? Aside from the obvious reason.

SS: Simple reasons. One, as told in my stories, my phallus gets mentioned and participates. Two, it turns me on to experience and also write about my phallus getting attention or turning anyone on. Three, I know anatomy is shallow to acknowledge and supposed to be inconsequential, but some situations – some stories – involve the phallus – a few even revolve around it.

Dr G: Perhaps we can describe it as more of a “fetish,” than a “complex?”

SS: You’re the Dr, you tell me.

Dr G:i want to re-read everything in light of new discoveries.

SS: So, couple and family psychology, does that include sex therapy?

Dr G: Yes. I wrote a thesis related to that. [redacted]

SS: Do I need therapy?

Dr G: That depends, do you feel you need it? You seem to be happy and high functioning, but that’s your decision not mine.

SS: Who goes to sex therapy and for what purpose?

Dr G: Often sex therapy is a component of a larger scope of therapy. Or, sex related issues are a symptom, cause or component of a larger scope of treatment. And then there’s cases involving sexual abuse, addiction and dysfunction. Some of your stories are pertinent in that they describe the straightforward facts, without the baggage, of the reality some experience. It’s’ human nature for people to be selective with their truth, and your stories tell the parts that I infer. Not that some who I counsel aren’t open an explicit.

SS: Okay, I know you can’t divulge specific cases, but in general, what are some more common sex related issues that you’ve seen or treated?

Dr G: Infidelity. Sexual dysfunction. Sexual incompatibility or problematic fetishes. Sexual compulsion. Hypersexuality, although I don’t see all hypersexuality as pathological. I’ve seen those who have a clearly deleterious pathology to their sexual compulsions, and those that are like you seem to be, hypersexual, high-libido without derangement or personal distress or impairment in social, occupational or other areas of functioning associated with the frequency and intensity of these sexual fantasies, urges, and behavior. Perhaps, being aware of your “hypersexuality” (if you have such), you deliberately avoided commitment as opposed to committing to someone knowing you would inevitably be unfaithful? If so, I commend you for that, but have you considered any non-traditional options? A partner open to poly-amorous agreement perhaps? I mention this only because I get the sense you are sacrificing much for your nature, for the sake of your integrity. I’ll stop there, you’ll have to be a paying customer to get more.

SS: Well that’s good. You don’t find my “hypersexuality” to be pathological and crazy? That’s a relief. No, I get what you’re saying. I don’t think I’m that hypersexual actually, I’m a normal, healthy guy who likes women and sex, yes. Okay, a little hypersexual yes, but not as much anymore. When I was a teen and in my early to mid 20s it was a different story. There was no pill to calm such a libido. Thank god for my parents and the education they gave me – I’d be dead or in big trouble long before now if they’d not informed me as they had. I’m lucky to be alive and healthy as it were. But, as my stories have or will detail, things were crazy. Would you like to see my “phallus ” erect so you can rule out erectile dysfunction as the reason I have my phallus complex?

Dr G: No, I will completely take your word on that. You’ve proven enough, let’s leave that one for my, and reader, imagination.

SS: So, did Dare or any of my stories turn you on? Did you like them? Or, was it purely a clinical read?

Dr G: I said I found them entertaining. You’re a smart man, I think you can read the subtext in that.

SS: True, the subtext I read was that it turned you on, you masturbated over it, and contributed to the reason you chose to do this interview in person.

Dr G: I won’t confirm or deny that statement.

SS: OMG, you read my blog or my book Dare and actually masturbated during or right after reading?

Dr G: Again, I won’t confirm or deny.

SS: Wow, despite my phallus and savior complex, I encouraged you to get off? Awesome, good to know even Doctors get off.

Dr G: [redacted]

SS: I really hope you don’t cut that out of the interview.

Dr G: 100% I will cut that out of this interview.

SS: damn.

Dr G: Sorry, you agreed to rules. I’d let that stay if not for the obvious identifier.

SS: I know. So, how is your sex life with husband, is it perfect because you’re an expert?

Dr G: of course not, no relationship, marriage or sex life is perfect.

SS: In what ways is it not perfect?

Dr G: We are normal and imperfect as all couples are. We’re in our forties, the Cialis isn’t always effective, he’s overweight and I’ve worked harder to maintain my appearance. However, when I was pregnant and our kids were young, his sexual needs were not met like he’d have liked and yet he stuck in there with me. Marriage is a contract not a perfect solution. We agreed not to quit or leave each other, better or worse.

SS: Well, you’re a woman who stuck by her word, I admire that.

Dr G: Yes I have.

SS: Can we kiss though?

Dr G: Sure.

([redacted description])


I hope everyone enjoyed this one of Kind interview. I cannot thank Dr G enough for participating. Thank You.

Please comment and let me know if you enjoy such content or suggest how I might make this blog more meaningful.

Thank you.

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 hear 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,

Wondering about me? Here’s my New FAQ page

Q. How did you come up with the name Sinner Saint?

The name came about after I had sex with a coworker and friend, two weeks before her wedding. You can read the story for details, but after we were done, I said to her, “I’m a sinner now, no doubt.” She replied, “No, actually, I’d say you’re a Goddamn saint!”

Q. I think I get the Sinner part of the name, can you explain the idea behind the Saint part?

The Saint is in there to represent the side of me that cares for people and can’t stand to see injustice or people getting bullied or abused. There’s always been contradictions between my sometimes scandalous behavior and the sometimes positive results, or positive intentions, of my behavior. Bad things for good reasons? Or, sin with good intentions?

For instance, in high school I was selected to deliver the speech on character for the National Honor Society: The next day I was suspended from school for selling all the girls see through, open fly men’s boxer shorts with the school logo on them. It turns out a lot of girls purchased tiny sizes and were wearing them to school (I think the actual cause for all the uproar was not about students, but that the male teachers and staff were getting too “distracted” by the situation).

Or, during my sophomore year of college – the first time I had sex with a married woman: it was my philosophy professor while she was on the phone with her husband. That was the sinner at work; however, her husband had been having an affair with one of his grad students for nearly a year, and “out of the goodness of my heart,” I “gave of myself” to help her get revenge on him and get through her devastation. Read my stories and discover more about the sinner-saint duality.

Q. What made you decide to create this blog and publish a series of stories?

I don’t have any children or family of my own, but after decades of not being restricted by such commitments, I’ve had time and freedom to get into mischief.

I never expected to be this old and single. On the bright side, I’ve got wild times to write about and people are reading erotica: hopefully there’s a demand for stories that are true – or at least more realistic than is typical.

Q. Why are all your stories about sex? Why did you chose to write erotic stories?

I write about the steamier and most scandalous, because it keeps my attention long enough to finish a story. I didn’t set out to write about sex, but many of the best stories have something to do with it.

(While most people date and get crazy for five to ten years before becoming tied down with marriage and family, I’ve been working on the dating and “getting crazy” part for a couple decades. So, before you see all my stories and figure I must be a gigolo,  or rock star incognito,  or just full of shit, think about your own life and how many girls or guys you got crazy with before getting married; then multiply that by how much longer I’ve been single.)

Q. Your stories aren’t actually true, right?

I aim to write stories that seem as real as possible: for me, a realistic story is more interesting and has more potential to arouse. I add, remove, and adjust the facts only as is necessary to translate my experiences into effective stories. Dare, the diary’s first publication, is at least seventy percent true. A few stories to be published soon, are as much as ninety percent true.

Q. Most of the women in your stories are married, true? Is there a reason why?

Not true. It is the case with recent stories. As I get older, I have more interaction with women who are married – hence more of them in stories. I am not in my twenties anymore, and by my age most have married.

A less obvious reason is that I am shy and have always been more comfortable letting a girl come to me. When I get together with someone it’s usually because they’ve made the first move, and while It may sound counter-intuitive,  married women (who are looking) are more assertive about making the first move.

Q. Speaking of women who are married or engaged, why would you risk destroying someone’s relationship or marriage?

I don’t encourage anyone to betray their relationship. People govern their own morality,  it’s not for me to choose what is wrong, or justifiable for them. I do feel guilty about some of the behavior I’ve participated in. I could have been a better person in many ways, must I own their half of the responsibility as well?

(If you read my stories, you see that It has not been my intention to break the unbroken, corrupt the innocent, spoil the cherished nor disrupt the sated.)

Q. Do you cheat on your significant others?

As a rule I do not cheat. I have when I was much younger in high school and college. If I ever get married, I will not cheat.

Q. Do you avoid marriage because you are worried you’ll cheat?

It may be a factor but not a big one. I have not married because I have not met the girl for me yet. There was actually someone who was close, but I was young  and not ready – and the options seemed abundant. I don’t want to make a sacred vow to someone just because all the requirements seem to match up. I want to give a wife all my heart – my last breath – It must be someone who I can trust with it.

(p.s. a wife with large breasts or a nice ass wouldn’t suck. honesty and kindness trump all other qualities. sense of humor is bonus)

Q. What was your most embarrassing moment?

There are many to choose from – difficult choice. I’ll go with the time I went to the state fair with my sisters – when I was in junior high school. I guess I was excited – very anxious to get into the fair, and ran through the wrong turn-style. It was the exit – instead of the entrance right next to it. The turn-style was the perfectly wrong height – if you know what I mean, and the next thing I know I was on the ground with a crowd around me,  with  paramedics arriving. As incredibly painful as it was, the embarrassment was worse.

Q. What are your plans for The Sinner Saint Diary?

  • One idea I am working on, is to get a participant in a story to write their version of it, and then post them on the blog for readers to compare the two perspectives.
  • I am planning to have a few of the real people behind the characters that appear in the stories, do interviews for the blog. And, of course, I will continue doing interviews with both readers, and other interesting people as I stumble across them.
  • I want to include audio or video scenes from some of the stories – find some talented actors as voices for the different characters. Ultimately, I hope to live-stream a theatrical performance of a story.
  • The Sinner Saint Diary is my diary. With it, I hope to fuck with your perceptions and assumptions, exceed your expectations, and cross-pollinate mediums and genres. I intend to use every part of my being, and resources, to get you off, push your thinking, and contribute to the scope of your view and the joy in your world.

This is a post of the permanent FAQ page = click here to go there.

Click here for Dare – Volume I of the Sinner Saint Diary Series

Have a question you think should be included on this page? – suggest it in a comment and I will add it.

What is Coming after Dare?

Dare (the first Volume of The Sinner Saint Diary series) is on schedule to be released January 1st, as announced.

Here is a preview of some of the other stories being prepared for the series.

Dare II – Story about my relationship with Morgan (from Dare 1), and how we not only continued the Dare game but basically defined our relationship around it. I lived with Morgan for a year before we broke up, and even then, we continued the game.

Landlord – Story about a medical student who was part of a group of friends I met through an ex girlfriend. Gina became my landlord after I moved out of the ex’s house. This is the story of the fun I had living in Gina’s house, and how – as unlikely as it was, her and I became sexually… involved.

Sushi Waitress Voyeur – Story about Lisa – a young sushi waitress/server that I met during lunch one day and began dating. Her being Korean and being my server at a sushi restaurant wasn’t the most interesting part. We both were about to discover that Lisa – this shy twenty year old, had a genuine, certified, one hundred percent, incredible, pathological voyeuristic fetish:  the story goes into the fascinating nature of Lisa’s sexuality – as she discovers it. I share the hot and crazy things that would get her off. Get us both off.

Cube Mate – Story about my former “cube mate” at work, Kary. She was the biggest flirt I’d ever met. Her type of flirting was what I call “chicken-flirt,” where thing was seeing how close to the line she could take it – or get others to take it, without ever officially doing anything. Kary was devoted to the boyfriend she lived with and was engaged to. Unfortunately she took her game too far and ended up falling prey to her own game. The story with Kary heats up and spirals downward until our company Christmas party where all her teasing and chicken-flirting culminates into full, scandalous surrender. The best part? Her husband was asleep in their hotel room down the hall, and their wedding was the very next weekend.

Hottest True Housemates Story Ever – Following an ad on Craigslist, I rented the master bedroom of this nice condo where two other girls were living. One of the girls was the owner – or, her parents were, and the other was just some acquaintance of the the owner, who was also renting. Both the girls had boyfriends, and I had a girlfriend at the time I moved in. This story could do wonders for the condo, and room-rental, market if enough people read it. This is one of the 90%+ true stories of the series – and might also be the hottest and most scandalous. What happens?  Stuff you masturbate to for life – memories you skip real sex to masturbate too.

Campfire talk – Story about a tell-all talk I had with a woman while we stayed up all night by a campfire, after her husband and my girlfriend had gone to bed in their respective tents.