in the mind

He took a shower while I lay in bed reading a zine. When he came into the room clean and happy, I appreciated him.

I asked him to rub oil on my body and felt his hands slippery on my breasts. I asked him to rub oil on my hips. The smell of the lavender made me feel safe, remembering other good times between us.

Then he touched my clit. Slower, I said.

Will you turn me over and spank me? I asked, and he did. I asked him to close the window. The slaps got progressively harder without me having to ask. The oil on his hands improved the slaps somehow.

Do you want to be spanked? I asked. He said yes, so I slapped his ass a little. It's gorgeous.

He touched my clitoris some more. I'm training him to dip his finger inside me every minute or so, for just a second. I couldn't explain why! I think my clitoris needs a little break, I said.

I want you to lie back and see what happens, I told him. Just lie there and have a fantasy about getting your dick sucked, and something will happen in a minute, I told him.

I looked at him as he lay there with this eyes closed. I tried to imagine what has going on in his mind. I admired his dick and thought of what to do with it. I went between his legs and just cuddled his package for a while. I pushed his dick onto my neck. I rubbed my face on the hair above his dick. I rubbed my nose on his balls affectionately.

Then I kissed his dick and started to lick it up and down, on the underside, and put just the tip between my lips, rubbed my lips on the underside, listened to him mutter. Then I went down on him completely, licking the underside, rubbing my tongue on the underside as I fucked him with my mouth.

I got tired and had him lie on his side so I could lie on my side too. I sucked his dick enthusiastically. Some deep instincts took over, and I wasn't thinking about what I was doing but more observing it, in a good way--part of my brain shut off, and I was only a sex-being, my only thought in the world his dick and where I was taking him emotionally as I gave him this attentive care. My heart was giving. I felt I could have sucked his dick forever.

I might come, he said. I nodded and continued. I'm going to come, he said. I knew the warm, salty liquid would be in the mouth and throat soon. He moaned quietly as I felt it spurt in me, and I was with him completely and continued to lick the underside as he told me he loved me between moans, and I didn't know when to stop, and I didn't stop until it was a penis again, small and calm.

Then I got up to wash my hands, and he fucked me with the blue vibrator while I masturbated. He sucked my left nipple despite the oil. What a sweet man. I was going to come and remembered the events of the past few days. My mind went from one memory to the next. I was having a fantasy about meeting in the dark, a rushed encounter. I remembered how it had felt when he fucked me two nights before, just pounding me from behind, and inhabited that memory.

I wanted to turn over. So he fucked me with the blue vibrator from behind, and I rubbed my clit--it felt so different this way, and I was somewhat starting over--but I got to the point where coming was inevitable, and I can choose exactally what I will imagine as I'm coming. I remembered when he had been coming in my mouth, I remembered the fuck from two nights before, I remembered a shadowy fantasy, I remembered his delicate viens and the sound of his moaning cry.

Then the moaning cry was coming from my own throat, and I was coming at my own hand, loud, and surprising the part of myself that was listening like another person.

to fuck after the weekend

We had not had sex all weekend because of the trip. We were not in suspense about what would happen when he got home from work Monday night. He gave me that look I love. He stared at my breasts a second longer than usual and made comments when my shirt was off.

We took a shower and went to the livingroom to kiss. He caressed my shoulders and rubbed his dick on my belly. We lay down on the floor. He rubbed his hands up and down the sides of my body. He sucked and rubbed my nipples, which made my clitoris attentive.

I opened my mouth to suck his dick. He put it in. I licked and lapped the underside where the head meets the shaft, which made him say Oh god. He rammed it into my mouth, and I could feel the softness of the skin, and delicate veins, and communed with him in this way.

We stopped so he could play with my tits some more. I reached my hand to my cunt and told him how wet it was. My clit was swelled like a fat little berry. I sucked his dick some more. You're such a good cocksucker, he told me. (Cocksucker in a compliment in our family.) I listened to him moan and tasted his pre-come. I knew what I was doing to him and enjoyed every second of it.

He played with my tits again, and I told him how I wanted it. He fucked me from above. I told him how I always wanted such a good man between my legs and always wanted such a nice dick in my cunt. He told me how he always wanted to spread the legs of such a good woman.

I watched his facial expressions change as he fucked me. You have such a good cunt, he said. We moaned. He did it fast and watched my tits jiggle. I turned my head to the side and quietly wailed as he did it deep.

I asked for a break. We drank water. I sucked his dick again, and it was beauiful and slick. He put on a condom and fucked me from behind. He told me It feels so good to fuck you, and told me Take it! We went this way, and his dick was so deep inside of me. Sometimes it hurt, and I enjoyed the pain as it felt very real, not too extreme, and a good undercurrent to the experience.

But I asked for another break. We drank more water. (It's in the 100s here. The air conditioner is only so effective.) I sucked his dick and jacked him off while I masturbated. I was at the edge of coming, and he was too. His dick felt so real and true in my hand. His dick felt like the entire world to me. I had to stop rubbing my clit so I wouldn't come. And I had to stop jacking him off so he wouldn't come.

I told him to fuck me again, and he did. I heard him behind me, putting the condom on, and wiggled at him until he positioned himself so close and slipped it in. We continued. I fucked back hard to make him come, and he cried out as he came in shuddering jerks, holding onto my ass and moaning for a long time. (I though men only came for a little while. He seems to come as long as I do.)

Then we lay side-by-side, and his hand went to my cunt. He rubbed my clit like his life depended on it. Slow, I said. I rubbed my nipples and felt close to him. The feeling rose in me, the inevitablity, and I whimpered.

My legs opened a little wider and my entire body convulsed as a screamy shriek came from within me and he made me come with the sweet middle finger of his left hand. Pleasure flowed through my body as my heart pumped it through.

one moment: coming

When I was about to come, I got a snuggly feeling. I made him put his right arm around me and pushed my face to his chest. I burrowed against him as my hand slowly rubbed my clit, and then the waves hit me, and I cried out. I felt cozy and full of love, safe and animal with my animal mate. Probably his soft chest hair against my skin, and the strength of his right arm around me, steadying me and keeping me safe.

hearsay

Oh god, you're so good. It feels so good. You sweet dick fucker. You sweet fucker. God, I love you. God, you're so good at fucking me. My god, it feels so good. Your dick is so good. I love you. Please give it to me. Please fuck me like that. God, yes.

hot

Yesterday we had sex on the living room floor. I decided I wanted to come first before he fucked me and see how that felt. But that plan was overtaken by another. His belt happened to be on the floor right there, so I asked him to spank me with it. He did it gently, and it stung only a little but was fun for the novelty of the leather on my ass.

Then we decided to pretend we were at the beach, and I was a girl, and he was a teenager, and he was going to have his way with me--I pretended to be a little scared--it got me really aroused and ready. It was all talk. When he actually penetrated me, the fantasy fell away, and the fuck was lovely. Afterwards I masturbated and came loudly.

This morning I was lying in bed, and he came into the bedroom to do some chore, and I grabbed his package through his pants. I was happpy to feel it grow and poke as I rubbed it. Why don't you bone me real quick? I asked. We laughed and took off our clothes. He did bone me, and I liked how it felt to have the straightforward fucking as he plunged into me over and over again, on top of me.

You're such a good husband, I said. You keep me so nicely fucked.

You're such a good wife, he said. We were sweaty and dirty, so it felt nasty and good that way. I told him to come in me, and he rammed it deeply and moaned well.

Then I masturbated and put his hand there when I was about to come so it would be his doing. We were sleepy, but it was too hot to sleep!

sex zine

Yesterday we fucked my new favorite fucking-style of him behind me with his body up against my ass, just as deep as can be, and so luxurious so we both go into trances. We fucked until my knees were numb and then some more. He came inside me, and then he fucked me with two fingers as I rubbed my clit and sweated and whimpered until finally my cunt had enough and I came. Boy is it hot here. The heat's so extreme it makes me feel sick sometimes.

I finished my sex zine, and I like it, I like it. I still need to copy and bind it, though. I have never seen a zine like it, so I don't know how it will be received, if at all. I think the line-drawings are nice, and the writing's good, so I should be fine. Email me an address if you want a copy of the finished product. Most of the writing has already appeared here, but the postscript is new. It contextualizes my project a little and speaks abstractly about what I'm trying to do.

queer dream

We were in another city. I was at some kind of radical community center wating for a presentation. People were sitting together in a room like a living room. I was in a rocking chair, nervous and uncomfortable, obviously new.

A dark woman across the room took off her shirt. She had a lot of tattoos. Clothing optional, she said. I considered taking off my shirt but thought I was nervous enough as it was.

Somehow a sweet young white woman asked if she could touch my breasts. Before I knew it, I was naked, and she was caressing me with all the good-heartedness and warmth imaginable. I was extremely aroused and unsure where this was going.

A man was seated to my right. He would casually touch me sometimes, and I was afraid he would put the moves on me--he made me nervous because my husband had only okayed me being sexual with other women.

As the sweet young white woman touched my breasts, I felt something at my cunt, a wonderful feeling of a hand touching my opening, fingers that might penetrate me, but I was extremely startled because I didn't know who it was and if they were of the approved gender. So I froze then put my ass back on the seat of the rocking chair. I was actually about to fuck the arm-rest, but I didn't know if that would be allowed, not particularly hygenic.

I looked into the eyes of the woman who had been touching me. Can I give you a smootch? I asked. She thought about it, hesitated, and said yes. We kissed slowly and for a long time. I felt alarmed at the intimacy of it. And then we were done--that was as far as we were going at the moment.

I needed to go to the bathroom. As I went to find it, another woman followed me out of the room. She kissed me and embraced me. I was feeling overwhelmed and not attracted to her.

How long has it been? she asked

With a woman? I asked.

Yeah, she said.

Years, I said.

I think we can change that, she said. She kissed me again. She was pushing me, and I didn't like it. I needed to get out.

imperative

He took a shower. I set out the lubricant and three condoms, one unwrapped, and lay naked on the bed, waiting.

He came into the bedroom, and I watched him dry off. He's beautiful. His shoulders are broad and strong. His thighs are muscular and actually huge--he has gorgeous legs. His tum is large and true. His balls are immense, and his dick is perfect. He's the most beautiful white color and very honest, open, dear.

I asked him to touch my breasts from behind and bite me on my neck and shoulders. I stood facing the wall with my arms up and hands on the wall, sometimes leaning my head on the wall, as his hands ran up and down my body and he started to kiss my neck and shoulders.

Bite, I instructed. He's not the best at multi-tasking and would sometimes lose track of what he was doing as he groped me, bit me, and rubbed his cock on my ass all at the same time. Open your mouth, I said. Biting did not come naturally for him. I think he needs more practice.

This was a sure-fire way to wake up my cunt, and after a little while of this, I got on the bed on all fours. He went behind me and made fucking motions on me, but I was interested in being actually fucked as soon as possible and instructed him to do so.

Spank me, I said. Harder, I said.

I waited for the first penetration, not knowing when he would enter me. He put on a condom and entered me hard. I cried out.

He fucked me beautifully. I listened to his breathing and sounds. I listened to my own. We enjoyed ourselves. He grabbed my ass and my waist as he rammed it in. Mostly his hands rested on my lower back or near the pad of extra fat at the base of my spine. I felt loved and known as he fucked me deeply.

I wanted to come and twisted the top half of my body to the right so my right hand could reach my clit. I rubbed myself as he continued to fuck me from behind, and my clit felt large and vibrant. I was concerned that the angle was less pleasant for him as I had tilted my pelvis a bit so I could reach my clit. The experience was definitely different: no longer so animal. I felt more human and person-ish.

But I wanted to come and felt the intensity change as I started to climb that hill. His sounds and breathing were more excited than ever, so I knew what I was doing was okay. I got closer and closer. A twinge of fear hit me. Coming is often a little scary for me. Can I do that? Can I feel so much, will it be safe? I wonder. But there's no choice: I'm going to come, and I can.

I love you. I'm going to come, I told him as he fucked me true. I could tell he was excited. In the midst of all the motion, something in me was still.

Then I went over and a loud, crying sob came from my mouth as I felt the wave of pleasure in my entire body, hitting me to my toes and my teeth but hot-white in my cunt, waves and waves of it. My sob went on and sounded like pain. It tapered off.

I wondered vaguely if he had come, and then I heard his sounds that meant he was coming then, and I enjoyed it thoroughly, to know I was part of it.

the cat

What does the cat think? He was sleeping on a corner of the bed. Does he know we're mating? It seems to mean nothing to him.

an incredible fuck

I said I wasn't in a hurry. I was masturbating, and he masturbated too, on his knees at my left. I watched his hand on his dick, the rhythm of his stroking. He waved it in my face. I said, You're very good looking.

Then I realized that I actually was in a hurry. Do you want me from behind? I asked.

Turn over, he said. He put on a condom and pushed into me. It surprises me a little, hurts a little when he first goes in, but in a good way. I like to hear the small cry come out of my mouth and feel my body's first rush of the pleasure of being penetrated.

He grinded deep inside of me. Oh god, oh god, I said. Always before he would sort of lean back and watch his dick going in and out of me. But this time, he was leaning forward--his body was against my butt the whole time, and something about it--the angle, the deepness of the thrusts--had me very religious, dazed, and at the edge of coming as I grunted like an animal and took it hard, transformed into a creature of complete sexual feeling.

Oh god, oh god, I said, and whimpered. I felt deeply loved with his body against mine, and I had never felt so thoroughly fucked and taken. It went on and on. I grabbed at the bed and gripped the pillow under my chest. I heard his sounds and knew it felt so good for him also. The small part of my mind still capable of thought wondered why this was so different and why he was so excited. I didn't care but only wanted it to go on forever.

He would stop sometimes, pushed farthest into me, and I knew he was trying not to come so he could keep fucking me. He would push into me as deep as possible, stop, and then fuck again with more vigor, go through the cycle repeatedly.

I felt I really would come, somewhat prayed for it, lived at the edge of it, and then he said, I might come and did, ramming it into me with shuddering thrusts that made me feel emotionally satisfied. Then he put his hand to the condom and I fucked him back a little longer.

Can you touch my clit? I asked. He did but was unpractised from that direction. I took over and rubbed it myself, asking him, Will you penetrate me? What a question. He fucked me with two fingers as I rubbed my clit, still in the mind-numbing ecstacy of the profound fuck I has just endured and that really was continuing, only with his fingers, until I got off, shouting and coming and shuddering, my face grinding into the pillow as I cried.

Jesus christ, it had never been better. I had tender words to say when I recovered the power of speech and asked why it had been so different. He had no insight to provide but the way he kept his body against my body as we fucked.

We cuddled and talked for a long time. That was incredible is the sexual cliche that I found myself repeating. My feeling was of bliss and awe. I got horny again as we discussed it afterwards. But we were exhausted and had work to do. So we rested and then worked.

Later I made banana pancakes.

closer

We talked more about how we feel about monogamy. I feel so safe that I can talk about anything with him.

He's protective of me and has seen me get hurt many times. Protectiveness is never an excuse for controlingness, but I know his heart is in the right place. In fact, that's why I married him, short answer. I have never known anyone whose heart was more true and pure-singing perfectly full of honest care. He knows himself very well and can see when any self-interest tinges his behavior.

He had never thought about these things very much. He had taken culture's views as his own. He thought a wife having sex with a man other than her husband was the ultimate in disrespect. He didn't know other arrangements are possible. You know how it is when you're first trying to get your mind around something, and it can take a while. He brings up biological / evolutionary reasons behind the feelings that I'm not sure I buy.

At any rate, I'm not interested in anyone with whom a romance would be possible anyway. I have high standards and an iron will of not letting myself get pushed into anything. Other than toward my husband, I have strong feelings only toward one friend, and my husband has strong feelings toward the same friend, but nothing's possible. But it's good to have these topics within the conversational realm. I have never felt closer.

his fantasy

He wanted to enact a fantasy like my primary fantasy of being young and used. He lay back on the bed with his arms up over his head.

I blindfolded him and sucked his dick for a long time, rubbed it with my hand, licked it up and down, went down on him some more, rubbed my tits on his dick, and told him lots of admiring sentences.

You're prefect, you're so beautiful.

I love your dick, it's so thick, it smells so good, it feels so good.

Is this what you wanted? Did you want your dick played with this way?

Then I put a condom on him and fucked him soundly. Sometimes my nipples would graze his chest as I rode. I loved how it felt to do whatever I wanted with him and told him so.

I've always wanted to fuck you like this, I told him. Do you like this cunt you're getting? He said he did.

I rode up and down his dick, fast and thorough. I humped it deep. You're so good, I said. He started to make more sounds, and I knew I could make him come soon. I intensified my efforts. His arms slightly twitched. He moaned quietly, and I rode him hard as he came in me. His hand went to his dick for the condom. I fucked him a little more--it was hard to know when the coming started to fall away without being able to look into his eyes. So I kept going a bit for good measure.

We took off the blindfold and talked about it while I touched my cunt and rubbed my clit until I came. I loved not knowing what you were going to do next, he told me. It was night. It was late. We went to sleep after the nighttime rituals.

my nature

When I was was a teenager, I had girlfriends and boyfriends at the same time. I found it to be a good path. I was loving and committed to all my partners--we were good friends. It wasn't fuck-buddies.

Now that I'm an adult and monogamous, I see the validity of fuck-buddies. I don't have such rigid morality that I believe everyone must use sex as an expression of spiritual intimacy, with everyone and every time.

However, my husband thinks sex without love is gross. He finds it reprehensible and turns away from the idea like turning away from a scene of gore.

I feel a tension between my need for security with my husband and my need to love many people. Can I keep the love unphysical and maintain my monogamy? I value my husband more and more every day, and we know what our rules are. I would never commit adultery against him--if it came down to it, we would have to change the rules.

Adultery is an option for people who feel trapped, and our relationship is a healthy, living collaberation. Or adultery is an option for people who just aren't moral, but he and I are careful, caring.

Sometimes I think the nonmonogamy of my teenage and young adult years was more true to my nature. Other times I feel like life is so complicated. I can barely do everything I need to do in a day as it is, and adding another partner would be incapacitating.

more care

Sex is a really important way we take care of ourselves. I've been sick with a cold, but I took a shower this evening while he was working and then invited him to bed.

I touched the hair on his chest. I pushed him back on the bed and took advantage of the vulnerability of his package and sucked his dick, impressed with his responsiveness after all these years.

Then he fucked my mouth while I lay back on the bed. I pushed him away and asked him to play with my tits. Then I opened my mouth and requested more dick in it.

Then he fucked me from behind. "Take it hard," he instructed. I wanted it hard. I felt well-used, exhausted, a pillow beneath my ribs. I fucked him back in fast jerking motions until he came.

He held me as I masturbated--he rubbed my tits and looked at me with love while my mind rolled from memory to memory, and my hand rubbed fast and slow, fast and slow. When I was about to come, I put his hand there and made him push me over.

It had grown dark. We lay in the mostly-darkness half-asleep. The wind's blowing today, and the leaves were rustling outside. The world was quiet. If life can be like this, everything will be okay.

care

I went down on him at 4 in the morning. I like the quiet and the simplicity of his dick in my mouth. I focus on how it feels, the little sounds he makes, and enact my care. It's the least I could do.

welcome home

We were away and didn't have sex all weekend. So today it was good to know what would happen when he got home from work.

We had dinner and went to bed. We were shy. It was beautiful to see him naked and know his body would be mine. I lay back on the bed, and he touched me all over myself. I asked to see his dick. He knealed and showed me. I played with it. I rubbed it with spit on my hand. It felt like a vibrant wonderful thing, substantial and full of life. It changed, growing slowly. "I'm not in a hurry," I said. It had been days! I missed all of this.

"I want you to put it in my mouth," I said. He fucked my mouth. Then he would stop to pull and suck at my nipples. Then fuck my mouth again. I started to masturbate with my right hand as he fucked my mouth from the left.

I started to lick the underside of the head almost like licking a clitoris. He moaned and enjoyed it. We did this for a long time. I took myself to the edge of coming then stopped. Took myself there and stopped again. "Is it okay if I come?" I asked, and he said yes. I had planned for him to fuck me from behind, my favorite, but it wasn't working out that way.

"I might come," he said. "Is that okay?" I nodded and continued what I was doing. He controlled how far his dick as inside me while I changed the motions of my tongue. He started to spurt into my mouth and thrust his dick deeper. I quickened the motion of my hand and then slowed as the waves hit me and I cried out, his dick still spurting in my mouth.

Then he kissed me. He told me he had been in a trance, and he felt transformed. The sensations were in his entire body. It made him excited to know I was so excited.

I said that the way I was rubbing the underside of the head of his dick with my tongue was treating it like a clitoris and asked him if we're lesbians now.

wife vs prostitute

I've been thinking about marriage, why we get married, what it's good for, why we got married, how the outside world does or does not factor into personal relationships private.

Someone said marriage is a way to keep a woman confined long enough to be sure the child is legitamate. Is this true? What do we mean when we say marriage anyway, speaking historically? It seems natural for people to form bonds, and some bonds get more permanent than others.

We got married because we felt married, and we wanted to use the words "husband" and "wife." So we got married for words.

We also wanted the certain rights like to be one another's next-of-kin and what if one of us died, or was in the hospital, and all that.

But I had been very anti-marriage for a while. I thought it was horrible imprisonment and so unreasonable to think you could make a promise about forever when people can and should change often.

Now, four years into our marriage and seven years into the relationship, I feel glad to have him and glad for everything that's lead up to this, but a little concerned too about what marriage is, what I'm giving my approval to by engaging in, and is this an institution that should be scrapped, or changed, or strengthened, and if so how.

Our marriage is a relationship of care and carnality. There seem to be two main components--the way we take care of of another as steadfast allies and family members. And then there's the way we fuck. There's some overlap to the two, but mostly they're different.

I had a theory, not really mine, that before, a man would have a wife for the home things and a prostitute to really be hinself with, but now a woman needs to be both in order to keep the man satisfied and from "straying." That's the man-centric view of it, anyway.

So it's potentially difficult. The outside world factors into our relationship somewhat, mostly through the conditioning we received as children. The way we chose to ignore popular culture's TV and movies and magazines and radio means we are comparatively free of unwanted influences in the present, but our own minds are filled with the clutter from childhood and what we saw in our own families.

It's a constant effort to be true to ourselves and what we really want together. He's so stable, and I'm so erratic and moody. I'm always evaluating whether what I'm doing is what I want to be doing. He is more complacent, which is fine. He's the kind of guy who would always order the same thing at a restaurant, and the waitstaff would tease him about it. Sometimes I get irritated at always being the innovator. But mostly our roles are good. I need his stability and trustworthiness. Maybe he needs my changability too.