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Have you read this one ? It's called - Did She Just Have An Orgasm? This short piece is hot.
Judge for yourself and let me know what you think..

Click the blue title below.

- Did She Just Have An Orgasm -

🍻 Nov 22 Happy Thanksgiving
* Words are like meatloaf - they can be sculpted into any shape you choose. . . . .
(* ©April - 2018 November Paul P. )
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My Private Mail Box
Posted:Jul 12, 2018 9:41 am
Last Updated:Nov 22, 2018 1:00 am
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My Private Mail Box 📩 ... where we can talk... privately.
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Strip Club Dancer - The Lovely Chantal
Posted:Nov 21, 2018 1:16 am
Last Updated:Nov 22, 2018 12:41 am
544 Views
One of the perks of working for a large corporation is the expense account they gave me. Apparently, I'm supposed to use it to entertain clients when they come into town. So when Mike and Robbert flew in from Idaho, and asked me to take them to one of this city's infamous strip clubs, I obviously had no choice - right ?

We had a nice enough meal at a downtown rib place, and then headed to one of those thriving clubs. It was a short walk and before I knew it, those two guys were diving for ringside seats. We were seated just in time, to hear the melodic and energetic introduction of the Lovely Chantal. She strutted onto the stage. The music was loud. The stunning Chantal, was obviously, a passionate and agile dancer. Mike and Robert, both agreed - she had talent. I ordered a round of drinks.

I was the designated driver, but my guests had no such restrictions. Wouldn't you know it? They were thirsty - real thirsty. As I ordered another round, we were introduced to Exotic Natasha, and then Vivacious Veronica. The boys timed their next order with the arrival of the Luscious Lelisia. Halfway through her set, Mike leaned over, and yelled into my ear.

"Hey Paul. How's about we get one of those booths. You know - those private booths over there." he said, pointing to a cluster of black leather benches at the back."I wanna get a lap dance. OK ? We don't have 'em in Idaho."

Little known fact - this city, invented the lap dance over 30 years ago. I have the scattered memories of my brother's stag party to prove it. Anyway... off we all trudged, over to those booths. Mike and Robert needed some help carrying their drinks. I was fine. I'd ordered a Shirley Temple (as a joke), and it was poured into a huge fishbowl. Even as it slushed around, I never spilled a drop. Mike smiled when he was put on a waiting list - for the Lovely Chantal.

It was wasn't much quieter at our new vantage point. We were barely able to hear ourselves talk. Mike was trying to make a point, as he bellowed at Robert across the table.

"... so he was the very first person ever, on social media... He created it all !"

"WHO created WHAT?" Robert yelled back at Mike.

"I said... Jesus was the first person, to start this whole, social media craze. Listen... he had three followers, before he was even BORN... for fucks sake ! "

Mike had a point. Robert was confused. I ordered another round of drinks.

By the time Chantal eventually showed up, Mike's head was nestled into his forearms, resting on the table and Robert, was in the bathroom... again. I noticed that Chantal was not only beautiful, but she smelled really good. She leaned over towards me and asked...

"Who's the dance for?"

"This guy, " I pointed. "But I don't think he's awake. I guess you can dance for me."

At that moment, Mike lifted his head, and smiled. Chantal smiled back, and waited for the music to begin. We found out she was a pre-med student, and was putting her brother and sister through private school, while supporting her grandparents. "Right... " I thought to myself. " No shit ! Go figure..."

I have to admit, watching someone else, get a lap dance, is pretty weird. I mean, all her focus was on Mike - and I was this, uninvited guest. I'd describe what went on, but you probably know. She groped him and he groped her and Mike smiled a lot. Then before you knew it...a couple of three songs later, Chantal was taking his money and thanking him.

Robert showed up, just as Chantal was leaving. He grabbed her arm, and tried to coax her to dance, for just one more song. I pulled him away, before we all got kicked outta the place. Then, even though I tried to stop them, they both ordered more drinks. Things kinda spiraled outta control at that point. Somehow... Mike lost his cell phone and became totally frantic and Robert disappeared... somewhere by the bar. We later found him sitting in a bathroom stall... trying to sober up. We never found Mike's phone, and we looked everywhere. I can tell you that, crawling on our hands and knees on that clean carpeted floor, in almost pitch black conditions - was a LOT of fun !

I think it was around three in the morning, when we all left. My car was parked within a short walking distance of the club - but we ended up taking a cab. No way could I handle both of them. The doorman at their hotel, helped me ease them into the elevator. What a night ! They had really tied one on and I was a passenger, along for the ride. Oh well ... the lengths we go to for clients, right?

Robert gingerly stepped into the conference room the next morning, looking green. And wouldn't you know it - the club had called Mike at his hotel, to tell him they'd found his cell phone. All things considered, it was a pretty interesting evening. But one, that I really... wouldn't want to repeat... very often.

After work, I asked the boys if they wanted to go out again. Robert still looked greenish and politely declined. Mike looked at me and whispered...

"I'm gonna go back to the club. I think Chantal's working again tonight."

I looked at him and shook my head.

I got a phone call at around 2 o'clock in the morning. It was Mike's cell . I answered, but no one answered back. In the background I heard muffled music, and what sounded like - the introduction of a dancer at a strip club. I listened to the music for a bit. It was a song that I liked. That new one... by Ariana Grande. Have you heard it?

I laid my head on my pillow , closed my eyes and wondered - would Mike make the morning flight, or would there be another tale, of the Lovely Chantal?


................................................
So...
Do (did) you ever go to strip clubs ? Who's crazier - the women at the male strip clubs, or the men at the woman's strip clubs?

The sensual, erotic details of what it's like to get a lap dance... are definitely worthy of a story... and I'll share one with you... soon...

Today is 'National Tie One On Day'... (I don't make this stuff up.)
My days of tying one on, never really started. We'd party but rarely to the point of oblivion.... I think. Or rarely ... 😶

............................................
31 Comments
Man Up and Be Strong
Posted:Nov 19, 2018 1:22 am
Last Updated:Nov 20, 2018 2:45 pm
748 Views
He slowly crossed the street, pulling a rickety metal shopping cart. It looked as if all of his life's possessions, were piled high in that stack of stuff. It seemed to me, almost impossible to balance - yet he managed the cracks and bumps in the road, with a determined effort. The light was red, and it waited for him, until he reached the other side. When he got there... he turned, and glared at me.

It's true (that just seconds before), I had come to a tire screeching stop - just to avoid crushing him. I didn't know he'd intentionally ignore the rules. It didn't dawn on me that he couldn't care less. Or... perhaps... he just knew I would stop. I.ve been told I have compassionate eyes. I looked at him and gave him a thumbs up. "You survived another close call, buddy," I thought.

His tattered winter jacket covered up a dirty grey hoody which was draped over a pair of shabby green pants. I couldn't see his shoes. It was a cold day and the brisk wind pushed the pieces of his prized possessions to and fro, if you can imagine. As I turned the car, he'd already thrust his way along the sidewalk and was making swift progress a short distance ahead of me. And then I noticed... the wind had stolen something from him.

It fluttered and flew into my windshield and lay there, snagged on the edge of my wiper. It was a photograph. The truck behind me, blared it's horn, as soon as I got out of my car. I ran quickly over to the passenger side and grabbed that picture, before it could fly away again. I looked at it... There, on a perfect summer's day, was a man and his wife, with their two small children, and a pair of grand parents - I presumed. They were all standing under the shade of a giant willow tree. The shopping cart man hadn't yet noticed his loss...

"Mister...! Hey mister! You lost something...!"

He stopped in his tracks and turned around. It must have been a shock, to see a stranger holding a piece of his property. He ran towards me and before I could extend my arm - he snatched what belonged to him, from my fingers. Clutching it with tremored hands, he looked at the faded picture and then back at me.

"This here's a picture of me and my wife and kids... and those are my parents. My brother took this shot up north, at his place. It's the only one I have. It's all I have left... it's proof... I had a family once... " and his voice trailed off. He looked at me and nodded as he clutched that photograph close to his chest. It might have been from the blustery wind, but his eyes watered as he wiped them with his dusty sleeve. "Thank you sir. Thanks for stopping and... and catching this for me."

Before I could say anything he'd already turned and began running back to his cart. I would have watched him longer, but the trucker behind me had places to go and I was growing deaf, from his impatience. Don't you just love the sheer, terrifying power, of a truck's air horn?

I never saw where the shopping cart man went yesterday, but coincidentally, I.m still thinking about him. I don't have much in common with that man, but today, we share something. It's International Men's Day - a day for all men everywhere on the planet. A day where we celebrate positive male role models and promote awareness of prostate cancer and men's mental health issues. To be totally honest though, I wouldn't have known what day it was, if it hadn't popped up on Google. How else WOULD I know ? No one sent me a card. Don't worry about me though, I'll man up and be strong. I never received a card last year either . . . and I got over it.

The shopping cart man ... the one I almost hit with my car...? I don't think he knows what day it is. Even if he did... I don't think he'd really give a shit. Do you ?


I could have picked a more positive role model to highlight this day... but this man.. he was stuck in my mind...For me, he highlights the n.eed for more help for men, with all the issues they face..
....................
34 Comments
It's Pretty Simple, If You Think About It
Posted:Nov 15, 2018 1:16 am
Last Updated:Nov 20, 2018 5:55 am
1382 Views
You just never know, when you'll hear some wisdom - it can pop up anywhere.

Usually my workday ends, with a visit to the local coffee shop. I order a medium cup, of really good, dark roasted Columbian. The people working at that place know me, and I know them. It's relaxed, and it kind of puts a lustre on my day. You know what I mean?

This guy Thomas, was working behind the counter yesterday. I've gotten to know him pretty well. I actually met him, his wife and his three kids, this past summer. I was down by the lake, and it was completely by accident...

Someone was grilling that day and it smelled, soo... good. I just had to follow the smoke. I.m nosy, so I walked over to where that barbecue was. When I saw it was Thomas, my coffee guy, I was surprised. He offered me a beer and we shared a bunch of laughs. Oh... and his wife gave me a taste of the meat she was grilling. Man... it was fantastic! Have you ever tasted, really good... barbecued lamb?

Anyway, Thomas moved to this city from Ethiopia... just last year. He was a teacher over there, but he's still trying to get accredited - over here. While he studies for his exams, he works at the coffee shop, doling out coffee - one cup... at a time.

And that's where I was... waiting in line. The lady in front of me must have been having a really bad day. I could see she was getting totally frustrated. She was rummaging through her purse, looking for her wallet and practically ripped that thing in half - trying to find it. She deffinitely surprised everyone there, when she started yelling.

"I can't find my wallet. What else is gonna go wrong? What's it... all... ABOUT?"

"Its about finding your money and paying, so we can get out of here lady!" I could have answered.

Thomas looked at her, and quietly spoke first.

"What's it all about? It's about finding someone to love. Finding someone who loves you. Making a family and loving them. That's, what it's all about."

She looked at Thomas and said nothing. I guess she found her wallet, because she paid and walked out. It was my turn.

" Hey Thomas ... How's it going? "

" Always good Paul... Always good", he smiled.

And you know what? I believed him. He handed me my perfect cup of coffee - two creams, one su.gar. It's pretty simple... if you think about it.


............
So...
What type of positive thought or mantra, motivates you throughout your day?

Thomas served me grilled lamb and it was tasty and delicious. But my favorite fire prepped food is BBQ chicken. What's yours?

Have a great day. Clean out your fridge, from time to time.
--------------------------------------------
57 Comments
How To Make Love To A Woman : The To-do List
Posted:Nov 12, 2018 1:04 am
Last Updated:Nov 15, 2018 9:10 am
1543 Views
To-Do Lists exist about everything but I was surprised to read one describing - How To Make Love To A Woman. My quirky buddy Frank, came over yesterday and showed it to me.

I hadn't seen Frank in a while , so he filled me in on what he'd been up to. Frank had joined an adult sex hookup site called : FOGCAF, (Friends OF Good Clean Adulterous Fun), his username is FrankeeZee and he was having a great time !

Frank told me he soon realized, that working during the day, was going to impact his ability to meet with the women on that site, so he quit his day job and took night employment, as a janitor. That freed him up to perv and chat with the women online. He wasn't getting laid yet, but he happily admitted to masturbating 9 or 10 times a day - obviously improving his cardio, in the process. The only downside (he claimed), was that he was recently diagnosed with a strained ligament in his left wrist. I knew he was right handed, so out of curiosity (and because I could), I asked him why he used his left hand.

"Because Paul... then... it feels like someone else is holding it ."

I made a mental note. After he'd paused for a second, I asked him if he was at least closer, to having sex with someone from that website. Ironically, Frank then told me about the woman he'd met (off-site), at the local supermarket.

Shortly after the first time they'd been intimate, this woman presented him with a To Do List, on how to make love to her. He thought he'd done a great job, but evidently... she disagreed.

He pulled a folded piece of paper out of his knapsack and showed me the To-do List. It read like this:
5 min - Gentle soft kissing
7 min - Deep passionate kissing
1 min - Let's take off our clothes
8 min - Gentle body massages and caressing of my breasts
5 min - Exploration of my woman bits with your fingers
7 min - More fun with my woman bits using 'toys'
8 min - Visiting my woman bits with your mouth and tongue
I am now ready for penetration.


"Wow ! That's a crazy detailed list ! And she wrote it down for you ?" I exclaimed looking at it. "So... what did you do Frank ?"

"I did what any verile, proud man would do. I read it and realized that I would have to ramp things up. I went to the erotic store and bought the 'Deluxe Pleasure Kit' - you know... 5 assorted vibrators and dildos plus the scented lube," he grinned proudly. "Oh... and they threw in a $10 coupon for a discount at the car wash. Hey... go figure !"

I nodded approvingly. It sounded like a good deal.

"Then I gift wrapped it, and presented it to her, along with a little handwritten note."

"Ooo... What did she say?"

" Well, she came over to my place a couple of Sundays ago, just before the start of the New England Patriots game. And she was really thrilled - with that whole gift thing. But then... she read what I wrote. "

'Eeeee... What did you write ?"

"My message to her was simple.
'Let me know when you're ready for me.'
I figured... I could probably watch most of the first half - until she was. "

"Oh man... how did that work out ?" I asked, while wincing.

"Not so good. She kept the dildos and the vibrators, as a parting gift. But hey... the Patriots won!" Frank looked at me smiling.

Frank is a funny guy... It was late in the afternoon and he had to get to work. sure he'll have another story to tell me next time.


..................................
So...
Do you manage your busy days and lives with 'To-do Lists', on a scrap of paper, a computer, a phone... on tiny 'post its' or... do you just wing it?

What are your thoughts about Frank's 'To-Do list' ?


BTW - Nov 12 is "National Pizza With The Works Except Anchovies Day". I don't make this stuff up. My favorite is : tomato sauce, cheese, pepperoni, green peppers, mushrooms - PLUS bacon, onions and olives.
29 Comments
My Burgundy Rocket
Posted:Nov 8, 2018 12:50 am
Last Updated:Nov 15, 2018 3:43 pm
1698 Views
A recent blog post by Platosgames got me thinking about a time, when I was ... and a little wilder...
.................................
When I was in my mid twenties, I liked to drive fast cars and I scored a big time perk with the company that I was working for - they gave me a brand new car !  What a thrill, and to add to it, they let ME,  pick the car that I wanted. Of course they also gave me a budget, meaning the car I chose, was not  going to be a Porsche ; but I didn't n.eed a Porsche. Honda had a certain five speed (manual shift) sports car -  and that would suffice !  And so - that is exactly, what I picked up from the dealership, on that chilly, autumn night.

It was very late when I finally got home. I leapt up the stairs, into the bedroom and stood there - out of breath. The lights were still on and Lynn was about to go to sleep. She sat on the edge of the bed , wearing the pink babydoll pyjamas, that I'd bought her. Lynn looked at me with that loving smile of hers; the one she always reserved for me, when I came home. She didn't know that I had picked up the new car, but she could see I was happy and she knew something was up.

"So... ? Did you get it?"

"Yeah... It's downstairs in the garage. Let's go for a drive."

"Seriously? I.m in my pyjamas and ready for bed Paul," she teased in her fake fatigued voice.

"Come on Lynn. Put your pants over your pj's and let's go !"

I looked at her and waited, with my hands on my hips.

She laughed, jumped out of bed and slipped on a pair of jeans and a shirt. We were bounding down the stairs, into the garage in seconds. When she first saw the car, she gasped.

'Wow...! Wow... ! "

Was all she said. The car, a sexy, sloped-back, deep burgundy, 2 door coupe - shimmered in the flourescent lights of it's berth. Wide sport tires, were mounted on polished chromed rims. That car looked fast, parked just where it was. 

The engine spun to life with a guttural roar, as I turned the key. The sound system was clean and loud, the subwoofers were pure and thumped deep into my chest; and I had a beautiful lady sitting next to me. I looked at Lynn, who was smiling ear to ear, (her blue green eyes twinkling ) and I smiled back at her. I was content; I was in my tiny piece of paradise. As I pulled into the highway, I kept the car in third gear and just opened it up. The sheer, force of the acceleration pulled us back, deep into our bucket seats.

We rocketed into three lanes of open road - not a car in sight. Third gear took me all the way past 85 mph... then I shifted into fourth...  and then fifth gear. I had never driven a car that fast, in my life. I was almost afraid to look at the speedometer; the car just kept speeding up with no hesitation or struggle at all. The road itself, became a blur as I held onto that rigid steering wheel. The needle, eventually pointed to 1.20 mph ... or perhaps more. I was afraid that I might be scaring Lynn, so I looked at her and asked.

" Lynn... you ok babe? I.m not freaking you out, a.m I?"

"No...  It's all good Paul. You're the driver ... I trust you."

We were fortunate we didn't run into any other cars on that late night escapade. We just drove out of the city and aimlessly into the darkness,  listening to the radio - mesmerized by speed and hypnotized by the smell, of a new car. It was an experience I would never forget. Occasionally, I am reminded of my adventure with Lynn, by - of all people - other drivers. Last night ...

...I was heading home alone, along the highway, when I was surprised by the obnoxiously brilliant headlights of a car that had roared up (from nowhere), right behind my bumper... literally feet away ! I was in the left passing lane doing a measley 75 mph. He flashed his hi-beams. It was a signal to get out of his way.  I looked in my rear view mirror and held my car in that left lane for a couple, or perhaps three seconds longer,  before I moved right. He then pulled up alongside me and matched my speed. I turned to look - it was that new, silver, Subaru WRX.

The driver (a k.id, who looked to be in his twenties),  had an attractive girl sitting in the passenger seat beside him. He turned to glare at me,  saluted me (facetiously),  downshifted twice (I heard the shifts), and then...  just ripped it ! The car literally flew into the distance !  I thought to myself ,"What a jerk !", but then I paused and thought for another second. I was once a jerk, just like that k.id in the Subaru . I smiled to myself and watched wistfully and with a touch of envy, as that silver car, with the k.id and his girlfriend in it... just disappeared.


© November 2018 Paul P.
.....................................
So...
Do you wear pyjamas to bed, do you sleep naked, or what ?

By the way, I don't condone fast driving. When we are young we do some stupid things. And what I (allegedly) did was very stupid and irresponsible This story is as much about the chances we take in life as it is about how we mature, over time and our desire to remain forever young..
And hey - for any kids reading this story - DON'T SPEED !

I did like fast cars though... Anyone else have a love for fast cars?

................................
36 Comments
Handcuffs Or Silk Scarves
Posted:Nov 5, 2018 12:10 am
Last Updated:Nov 21, 2018 9:34 pm
1857 Views
"Bishop to Queen's Rook 4... Checkmate ! " I declared, while grinning at her.

Lynn stared at the chess board, looked across the table at me, smiled... and blinked. Several seconds passed before she finally, tipped her 'King' over and surrendered. Slowly, she stood up, and pushed her chair aside. She knew what was expected of her. Playfully... she turned her back to me and plunged her thumbs into the sides of her white lace panties... gently tugging them, down her thighs, and along her legs.  She angled her supple body until, she was completely bent over, revealing all of herself - to me. I thought I saw something twitch. 

Having removed that final garment,  she twirled back around, to measure my reaction. Her wide smile and perky breasts, beamed at me.

"Why am I the only one who is naked... Paul? What other rules are there, in this game of yours?" Lynn's blue green eyes, sparkled as she giggled.

I thought for a second or two. 

"Turn around again? I want to look at you in this light."

Lynn turned slowly, clockwise... her arms floating, by her sides. 

"Wait... Stop... Stop right there. Don't move. Don't move a muscle!"

Once again, her back faced me. I got up from my chair, and approached her from the rear. My hands met her silky thighs and traced their outlines to her hips and then down across her belly where my fingers came to rest, fluttering and caressing her, just above a place where I knew - she loved to be touched. She raised herself on her tiny toes, arched her neck to the left - and read my mind... as her lips... met mine... with a passionate kiss. 'Damn... she was hot ! '

As our lips parted, she quickly turned around and began fumbling, with the belt on my pants. I swiftly, caught both her wrists and held them steady.

"No Lynn. The rest of this game, is going to be played in the bedroom. Go lie on the bed ... I'll be right there," I kissed her softly and released her. 

Lynn gleefully, ran towards the bedroom. 

"Do I get the handcuffs, or are we just going to use the silk scarves this time?" she shouted from down the hallway.

'Good question.', I thought. I just wasn't sure. It was the toughest question, Lynn had asked me... all day.

© November 2018 Paul P.
...............................................................
So...
Do you like to play board games 🎲 or card games 🃏 or 'games' 💏 of any sort; or has the art of playing games died ?
Solitaire on the computer - counts ! Does anyone still play that game?

FYI Today is National Donut Day. For me it is chocolate or honey glazed. Yes... I love donuts.
33 Comments
Almost Ripped To Shreds . . . #47
Posted:Nov 1, 2018 2:27 am
Last Updated:Nov 10, 2018 2:42 pm
2102 Views
Was it some traumatic experience, the smell of your mother's cooking as you stood in the kitchen next to her (tugging on her apron), or perhaps it was the taste of a birthday cake; everyone has an early childhood memory. Mine occurred when I was about three years old and it terrified me for years afterward.

Even though my parents and I lived in the city, my grandparents (with whom we were very close), had many friends who lived in rural areas, and farmed their land - and so we took a road trip. We drove up to this homestead, early one warm, summer morning. I have no recollection that we had all, scrambled into my father's '58 Chevy Bel Air, or that the drive took two and a half hours. Nor do I recall exactly, where I was sitting, while crammed up in that car - with my parents, grandparents and uncle. I vaguely remember, taking turns on everyone's lap; seat belts were an option, back in the day.

I do recall the next set of events - vividly. When we arrived at the farm and stopped, I was very happy, to finally free myself and run around. I jumped out the open car door, pushed my tiny legs and ran up a gravel path towards the farmhouse. As I ran, I heard the farm dogs barking - and there were many of them. But . . .the one that caught my eye, was the monstrous black german shepherd , galloping directly toward me, along that same, gravel path. His loud ferocious bark, stopped me dead in my tracks, but it was his snarling white teeth and the sheer size of that beast, that had me frozen and terrified. I began to cry and in fact I screamed in terror and horror, as that dog charged closer and closer. I remember thinking that I would probably be bitten and I closed my eyes.

My next distinct memory is of me, being swooped up in the air by my uncle Steve. He was a large man, well over 6 feet tall and he lifted me into his arms, high and far out of reach from ALL the dogs. I waited for that big black dog, to bite me - but he didn't. In fact, he slowed to a stop and just stood there, barking. I was grateful for my uncle's firm grip and I buried my face into his shoulder and hugged him with all my strength.

For many years afterward, I was completely terrified of dogs... until one day - my uncle Steve, gave me a tip.

"Paul . . . Never show a dog you're afraid. They sense fear. Respect dogs, but don't fear them. Approach a dog you don't know with caution, but with confidence as well. You'll see - that dog will be your friend ! "

I outgrew my fear of dogs, very quickly, after I began applying my uncle's words. To this day, I love dogs and can't help but approach one, play with one or just pet one... whenever I have the opportunity.


................................................................
So...
Do you prefer dogs, are you more of a cat person... or do you have another favourite animal?
----------------------------------------------------
This is my submission to - My Earliest Childhood Memory # 47 Virtual Symposium #47 Link November Earliest Childhood Memory-what age?

38 Comments
Time Hovered
Posted:Oct 30, 2018 1:14 am
Last Updated:Nov 14, 2018 1:40 am
2383 Views
Last Friday night, I drove to the airport to pick up an old friend of mine - Robert, who was flying in from New York. Traffic was 'pure hell', and had been worse than usual (in the last week), and all this had coincided with the legalization of that 'formerly illegal' herb - marijuana.  We used to bomb around town at 8 or 9 mph but lately, we were hovering, at no more than 4 or 5 mph. I jokingly blamed all the stoners as they probably drove slower - trying to be extra careful. Local media, pointed out that this city, closed down yet another major road, for repairs. Those media minions, might have had a valid point.

Once at the terminal, I missed the entrance to the 'Express  Parking' lot and had to drive...  all the way... around the airport, to try and hit that entrance, again. Ask me if I was slightly agitated and annoyed. When I reached the USA  Arrivals Lounge (after having walked a half mile from my parking spot), and in spite of the crowds - I luckily, found an empty chair. Quietly, I sat down next to an old, frail, grey haired gentleman (in his late 80's perhaps), who clasped a cane in one hand, while on the lap of his rumpled plaid pants, rested a motley cardboard sign, with the name - 'Deborah' written on it. Of course, I began to speak - and I asked him about the sign.

He looked up at me and shared his brief saga. He was waiting for his daughter, Deborah, whom he hadn't seen in 45 years. He wasn't sure what she looked like, and she certainly wouldn't recognize him, or so he thought. Deborah was his only child and had been estranged from him (as a very young girl), since his bitter divorce, from her mother.  Deborah was married, had lived in New Jersey for many years - and she was flying into town, for her mother's funeral.  She was his only family, and she had finally decided, to reconcile with him.

'She is a doctor. She's a Neurologist at Mount Sinai,' he proudly announced to me, smiling broadly. I could tell he was nervous, as his thin fingers fidgeted, with the sign. 

As the passengers on that New York flight started to exit from the Arrivals gate, I slowly helped him up from his seat and followed him as he gingerly walked toward that gaggle of travellers. It was the same flight my friend Robert was on. 

You might have seen those u tube videos, or movies, where two people who haven't seen each other in years, finally recognize one another,  and fall into each others arms, crying and hugging ? That is,  exactly, what their reunion resembled ! Imagine meeting your daughter after 45 years. Imagine meeting your father, whom you haven't seen in more than four decades... and - it was on the occasion of your mother's funeral. As I stood there, stunned, I couldn't imagine, not seeing my daughters for one year - let alone 45 years.

If you know me, you'd know that I am an emotional guy,  and I started tearing up, right alongside them. I wish I could tell you how their story ended but (in truth), for them, it was just the beginning. They were still hugging each other as my friend Robert approached, and I was still wiping a tear from my eye.

"Hey Paul. What's up? You missed me that much? Holy shit... Come here buddy!"

He laughed as he extended his hand and gave me the hug that I needed ! While we drove to his hotel, I told him about the man I had met and the story he had shared. We then, sat there laughing as we exchanged anecdotes about our lives, our families and work related fuckups. The music in the car was chill and midnight traffic was at a wall to wall standstill... some sort of lane closures, or something like that. I didn't mind at all. No... I did not mind that traffic, at all...  Life is short.


........................................
So...
Do you spend time with your family or with those you love - as much as you'd like to?

Have you ever tried marijuana?

And no... I'm not sure if legalization is a good thing or not. I imagine time will tell. Even in that airport parking lot, blue plumes of smoke and that pervasive aroma , proved to me that people were getting ready to fly - in more ways than one. 😊🎃🌿
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37 Comments
The Pecker Was Huge
Posted:Oct 25, 2018 11:22 am
Last Updated:Nov 12, 2018 10:25 am
2735 Views
I usually like to end my day with a walk by the lake or the river. There are a of forested parks that are peaceful places of solace for me to regroup and quietly think about things. I think about my life and my kids and family. I think about what I have accomplished and what I have yet - to accomplish. Those moments, by myself, bring me - a sense of peace and the ability to, recalibrate my goals. No matter how rough and tumble my day has been, those walks rejuvenate my mind and body... and I feel renewed and refreshed !

Yesterday (in that cleanly chilled fall air), I found myself walking along a forest trail, in one of my parks, alongside the lake. The only sounds I heard, were those of the fallen maple leaves, crumbling and squishing under my runners, and the distant hammering, of a woodpecker. Yes - a woodpecker. The male woodpeckers here are huge, if you've ever seen one ! I began to think... not about my life, but about something completely non related.

How many different, synonyms, could I find for the word - 'pecker' ?

Here is what I came up with:
penis, organ, member, phallus, cock, dick,, peter, prick, shaft, tool, johnson, manhood, schlong, willy, wood
... Most probably, I missed a few. Hmmm...

Then I thought, I might as well try the same exercise for the word vagina... right? So I came up with :
cunt, pussy, twat, muff, snatch, penis glove, honey pot

This 'vagina' list is substantially shorter... At least that's all, I came up with. Both lists will most certainly help me with any erotic story I write in the future. It gets a little repetitive to use the same words over and over again...

"There you go Paul. Another mini goal accomplished ! New nouns for your next sex story. I need to get a LIFE !" I thought to myself, as I trudged along the path.

The woodpecker in the distance had finally stopped his clatter.

"Ahhh ...... silence...... "

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So...
Do you Do something special or GO some place where you can - completely relax and recharge your batteries, after your day ?

Can you ADD to that list of slang words for , 'penis' or the 'vagina' ? I know that I missed quite a few.


That first image above, is the trail I was on, and the red maple tree image (below), is of a spot on the road, not far from my home. It is the reddest tree in the neighborhood.
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38 Comments
Just to Touch You
Posted:Oct 22, 2018 11:42 pm
Last Updated:Nov 15, 2018 8:59 am
3198 Views
I was rummaging through a kitchen drawer last Saturday, looking for a pair of scissors, when I came across this hand written, faded letter, in an envelope, addressed to me. It was from Dianne - an ex girlfriend, from long ago. I opened it, sat down and began to read...

Dear Paul,

I woke up in the middle of the night and reached across the bed, just to touch you - but you weren't there. My pillows still smell like you, and I. am already sorry for saying what I said to you.

But I really don't understand how you can be such an asshole sometimes. You play this game with my heart and you think you can get away with it because of your cute ass and those fucking eyes of yours. You know you can hypnotize me with the words you say and how you say them, and you do that on purpose. There's a name, a word , for a man like you. It describes who you are and how you selfishly, seduce and treat women. I just can't think of that name right now, but YOU know it!

I said to you, that I could change, so just give me time. Give me a chance. You know we're good together. We are fucking good together and yet you treat US, as if it's just a sex thing. It's more than that. Much more !

If what you said to me last night is true and if that's the way you feel - then I don't want to see you again. And that's MY truth !

You know I love you Paul. You know we could make this work ! Can't we try?

Love
Dianne


I held that scrawled, rambling, repetitive note in my hand - and paused. Dianne's seething anger toward me, was obvious. She likely, might have been hammered, when she wrote it. I mean honestly... I could not have been, sooo horrible, that she would call me a lothario - that name she was searching for. Nor was I as shallow, as she implied I was... She must have been confused...

I was in my mid twenties when I met her, and I recall that Dianne and I were only together for about a year. Aside from the sex - I didn't think we had that much, going for us. I was never with her again, after the night she wrote me that letter. And I only saw her, one other time, in my life.

She was in a packed, smoky and sweaty night club, with her new boyfriend. They were crammed shoulder to shoulder, sharing a wobbly, grimy little table, with a half dozen people. I was with a couple of my friends - and we were leaving that dive . The music was loud, Dianne and I made eye contact, smiled meekly at each other and tried to say hello. I felt sorry for her. She didn't look, particularly happy. Her sullen eyes followed me as I passed.

I looked at the letter, I still held in my hands. I folded it up into the envelope, put it in the drawer and pushed the drawer shut - then sat there for a few seconds more.

Finally, I shook my head, got up from the chair, and continued my search... for those elusive scissors.


© October 2018 Paul P.
...............................................................
So...
Have you ever been in a relationship where you saw things one way and your lover, saw things, in a completely different way ?

Do ever think about an 'ex' of yours and wonder what might have been, or what happened to them?


BTW... Lothario is a nefarious character in the 1605 novel - 'Don Quixote'. Another word to describe him would have been - womanizer .
Oh, and the scissors were found where I left them last time I used them - right on my office desk.

45 Comments
Did She Just Have An Orgasm?
Posted:Oct 17, 2018 12:29 am
Last Updated:Nov 15, 2018 4:28 pm
3406 Views
I will always recall that special moment, when, I was pretty sure - she had an orgasm.
............................................................
Lynn, lay naked, spread across my bed, and urged me to continue. I brushed my fingertips along her breasts, outlined her erect nipples and feathered my way down her smooth belly and across her raised hips. Eventually, I caressed my way around her silky inner thighs - toward where she wanted to be touched. Her legs twitched, as my tongue, outlined those last, warm, supple curves, before I reached her spot.

With quickened breath, she gasped, as I consumed her. Lynn's liquescent sweeteness, moistened my lips and her scent, enticed me. I could feel, the tension in her body growing and I knew her nerve endings and muscles, pulsed and danced, to my command. It pleased me, to please her! Lynn gasped once again, and gripped the sheets with both hands, clutching them, with white knuckled strength.

She had, completely, surrendered herself to me and finally, I acquiesced, and allowed her to - release it all ! Lynn lost all awareness of her surroundings, and those moments of euphoria - felt timeless to her.

Her body shivered as her convulsions multiplied while her cute, pink painted toes, curled, and uncurled, in nimble rhythms. She tried (unsuccessfully), to clamp my face between her thighs. Then, as she arched her back and buried her tilted head, deep into the pillow - a soft moan escaped from her throat. She raised her hips and pursed her lips in blissful ecstasy, with that look of hers - that I was so familiar with. She looked beautiful... and spent.

After some moments, her breathing resumed ... Lynn opened her eyes, gazed at me, and whispered - in a languid, breathless tone ...

"Oh, my gosh... that was unbelievable! That was just... so... fucking incredible!"


© October 2018 Paul P.
...............................................................
So...
Do your toes curl ?
Studies show that toe curling is a popular by-product of an orgasm.

The tittle of this story is just me being facetious. My take on some women I've been with - being rather passive in bed. Or was it just me? Eeee....

28 Comments
Sex and the Royal Flush
Posted:Oct 15, 2018 11:04 am
Last Updated:Oct 27, 2018 6:38 pm
3418 Views
Last weekend, I was thinking about things and I was feeling a bit low. My life, felt as if it had been poured into a porcelain toilet.

It swirled hypnoticaly, round and around in a steady clockwise motion, yet it never quite flushed itself away, nor completely from my view. As I watched, it always, resiliently, bubbled back up, to where I might even have scooped it into my hands, sifted through it's slime and sins, cleaned it - and started fresh.

I waited, with so much hope, yet it would fool me and repeat it's illusion, all over again. As I lingered impatiently, it steadfastly twirled, and circled in that foamy abyss for what seemed like - hours. Eventually, I gave up, waved goodbye... and called a plumber buddy of mine.

"I might n.eed explosives to dislodge this one.", he joked with me, as he walked back to his truck.

I cracked up laughing as I waited for his return. It was the only thing I could do - at that point !


© October 2018 Paul P.
...................................................................
So...
Do you call an expert or do you do your own home maintenance and repairs ?

Any good home reno or bathroom plumber horror stories out there?

30 Comments

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