My new favorite church

Before I come to bed I make a trip to the kitchen, checking the calendar to see if River has anything scheduled for tomorrow. It’s all clear. Somehow she knows what I’m up to. “Were you making a plan for tomorrow?” she asks. When we say “plan”, it means a plan for some sexy rumpus. “Yes.” “Good.” It’s been three days tonight, prime time for what we call a nice weeknight fuck, but I’d rather have a daytime fuck tomorrow. “Is it that obvious I was making a plan?” “Yes.” “Good.”

“I’ll come with you in the car this morning.” “You get points for creativity.” I’m waiting for her to say the expected “but”. And I’m wondering what I can do with those points. I wait. There is no “but”. “It’s going take some creativity to find a place,” I say. “There’s lots of places.” She’s creative. I’m encouraged.

We drop the kids off. My cock kept wanting to get hard while I was watching her lithe body in the bathroom this morning, but now it feels like I might be in for an episode of ED. Where’s she taking us? “I think you might have a new favorite church.” There’s a church here? Oh yeah. That church. The biker church. She pulls us around the back and parks. “This is fairly private.” Except the windshield is facing anybody who might pull into the parking lot. No big deal.

I move to  a seat in the middle row and drop my pants. River pulls hers down.. There’s her bare ass. One hand slips under and finds her wetness while the other works my cock. I was right, getting hard isn’t going to be easy. And she’s intending to fuck me by sitting on my cock, which is a much easier entry when I’m completely hard. We’ll see what happens. Feeling her pussy helps. I slip a finger inside, feeling how her skin curves into her vagina, feeling where it’s firm, feeling where it’s soft. My world is suddenly very small and focused. And wet.

When I think I’m as ready as I’ll ever be I position myself and she sits down on me at the angle we call 135 when we do it on the bed. Facing away and to the side. It takes some finagling to get it to pop into her cunt, but it goes. Things get a lot smoother when she reaches down and pulls one of her wings out of the way. We fuck. And I sigh. Staring out the windshield across the parking lot to the cars driving by on the road. Then closing my eyes and concentrating on her up and down, and my in and out.

A low-flying jet brings me back to a different reality. We’re right under final approach for the airport, and the plane is just overhead. While I’m flying at night I often look down on the isolated lights on the ground, wondering how many people down there are fucking. Maybe I’ll start wondering about people doing it right under us while we’re landing.

“I don’t think I’m going to finish.” That’s probably a good thing. River won’t have to go to work and drip all day. She slips up my cock and leaves it glistening.


It’s been too long since I’ve written anything here. I’ve got a dozen posts in various stages of completion sitting around while I mostly co-write a NaNoWriMo novel. So I’m just popping in for a quickie.

Not so long ago, River mentioned that if she gives her pussy a thwack, it can bring on another orgasm. She went on to demonstrate.  I’ve tried it since then and it works!  Why has she been hiding that little trick as long as we’ve known each other?  I’m gonna have fun with that one, but only about once a month.


River needs me to do some laundry. No problem.  I’m well-trained.  “Make sure you get at least one pair of pants for each kid.” “But Brook’s stuff has to go on a separate cycle.” “You can do it all on “Eco Cold.”  It gets out everything. Except semen.” I guess I’ll be doing my shirts on the regular cycle then.

A little bit of sex

I don’t know what I’m doing writing this. I’ve been co-writing a novel (or my share of a novel) for NaNoWriMo, so I’ve been a little busy. It’s fun, but it’s a lot of work, and I guess I need a break, and the words for this post are rattling in my head and want out.

I come to bed. “Hi you.” When River says that it’s kind of a come-on, but when I say it it’s sort of a joke. I’m always coming on to her. “Oh yeah?” That sounded less defensive and more agreeable than I was anticipating. Flirty, even.  She’s been taking some supplements that are supposed to help with her libido and I think they’re working. I’ve been thinking of a nice Saturday evening fuck all day, even though we just had a vigorous time Friday afternoon with some Klingon thrown in.  She claims Klingons eat the hearts of their lovers if they’re not satisfied.  I am still alive.

“This butter is actually ok.” She’s got the Brigit’s Shea Butter, with the “Sensual” scent, like the oil which now produces a Pavlovian response in me. “The one I didn’t like?”  “Yeah. It warms up and melts ok though.” Buttering her with the Burt’s Bees Body Butter was one of my favorite things, nearly always leading up to a bit more than just buttering, but they stopped making it. We like Brigit’s stuff, but their Shea Butter seems too stiff. I grab the jar and check it out. It’s even stiffer than I remember.

River rolls over and slides the covers off her back, her skin glowing golden in the light from the reading lamp. Is she giving me a hint? She knows what’s going to happen if she does, right?  “Scrape some onto the back of your finger and let it melt in your hands.” That’s a hint. The butter melts to a nice consistency in my hands. Like real butter, but not as greasy. My hands spread it over half of her back, nice and easy, down the sides, along her spine, through the knots on her shoulder blade, up her neck. I straddle her, my cock falling onto her back, and butter her other side, nice and slow, taking my time, working the butter into her skin until it feels just right. I could get used to this stuff. I like going slow. I’ve always taken my time buttering her, but I like the way this stuff insists on going slow.

I sit behind her legs. Butter the first ass check, nice and slow, both hands working together, down the side, in the crack. The other ass cheek. When my hands spread her toned cheeks I can feel the response in my cock. There’s the dark pucker. The edges of her lips just visible below in the dark shadow of her pussy. “I like slow.” “So do I.” A question before I finish. “Any requests?” Sometimes something needs more attention. Sacrum, shoulder blades, rhomboid muscles. “No.” “I have a request.” “What?” “Fuck you.” “Ok.”

The look and feel of her ass and back is inspiring. It doesn’t take long to get my cock completely hard. My left thumb slips down her crack, pressing into the fuzz, making circles just below the muscle of her cute butthole, feeling her lips yield into her pussy, then parting and letting me feel her wetness. I replace my thumb with my cock and push in.  A few inches. A little more. I like slow. Like the feel of her vagina slowly waking up and accomodating me. I don’t back up until I’ve pressed all the way in, up against her ass, my cock deep inside. Then I back up. And we fuck.

That’s where I tend to like to end posts lately, because for me the lead-up is important. But I’ll add a postscript. I didn’t “finish” last night. That’s not what I was in it for. I was in it because it’s something I like to do with her, and I like that part of me (exactly which part I’m talking about I’ll leave up to you) being accepted, just like she accepts me rubbing her back. We just rolled over and spooned off to sleep, River falling asleep in a few minutes as usual, me taking longer while feeling my cock slowly soften and slip out of her. I like slow.

I told River this morning how nice it was to have a little bit of sex with her last night. She thought that was a funny way to put it. That made me happy.


We’ve just showered and we’re getting dressed. “Those panties are kind of funny.” “They’re like boy panties.” “I mean the pattern on them.” I can see having Hello Kitty or polka dots, but this is some more abstract thing, kind of like a potato print in fall colors. But I get an idea. “Boy panties, you say?” Anybody who’s read my blogs a long time know that I’ve worn panties twice in my life. That I’ll admit to. Looks like I’m about to lose count.

I’m expecting River to whip her panties down and hand them to me, and for me to do the same with my boxer briefs so we can swap, but she fishes another pair out of her drawer while I’m dropping mine. White with a black waistband. I slip them on. Squeeze my package into them. “Hmm, not bad.” She motions me over to look in the mirror. She’s right. Not bad. “Let’s see your butt.” I pose with my arms over my head and stick my ass out. We like it. I pull my jeans on and we head out for lunch.

“These ones aren’t quite as comfy as the magenta ones.” Those felt like power panties. Now I know why superman dresses like he does. “That’s not surprising. They’ve got less material, and the other ones have elastic sewn into the fabric right here to hold things together.” She makes it sound like some of them are actually designed for men. “You could get a job selling these things. To guys.”

I’ve been wearing them for a couple hours. I’m constantly reminded that I’ve got them on. The low waist makes it feel like my pants are falling down. And the cotton against my pernineum has a nice stimulating scritchy pressure to it. I think the panties are holding my balls up out of the way. If I didn’t have ED I’d be getting a boner. River made us a plan (go River!) for a celebratory afternoon rendezvous and the nice scritchy feeling is making me really impatient.

One thing I’ve really liked about this blog

One thing I’ve really liked about this blog is how it’s tended to stimulate communication between me and River. A lot of things I talk about here I talk about with River, either before or after I post. This blog helps me be more aware of things I should be aware of, and revisit things that should be revisited.

So I was telling River how the spanking post got reblogged in a nicely positive way by somebody who’s into it. “It might have worked better if I’d known what was coming.” “You didn’t know? I thought you did. I even said so in the post.” “I didn’t know.” That’s giving me ideas.