A silver fox who she gets to decide is foxy or not. For sure, though, a man of letters and the sea; hell, worked for (Joseph) Conrad. I’m also an empty-nester dad figuring out what comes next. Maybe it’s all that accumulated salt air, but for the life of me I can’t stop thinking about it. No, ya silly, not the empty nest. The other thing. Love the build-up. Love love the impromptu midday quickie. Love love love all the noise the chair makes from you straddling me. The better we kiss the harder I get, the louder the chair gets. Monogamy is not a cuss word around here as long as you and I can’t possibly keep our hands and mouths off each other, but even then I might just ask for the occasional hall pass (see accumulated salt air). Even better if you want to join, for I count a throuple as one of my fantasies if I’m being 100% vulnerable and transparent. Either way, our commitment (another permissible word around here) is rooted in full transparency, liking as much as desiring the hell out of the other, and respect. Extra points if you dress sexy even at the Costco. And no, not heels, ya silly.
While new here (so go easy on me), I can say pretty unstutteringly that ropes and black and blue sports just aren’t my jam. Call me old-school vanilla, I guess.
Still here?
You know I wouldn’t have dared come here if I weren’t hungrily zeroing in on something raw, hard, wet, accepting, new, uncharted. Of course chemistry being the supreme leader that she is will reliably impose her crown every time, calling upon us to find expression in the inexpressible. I guess all I really mean is, I’m not here just to fuck. I guess that’s all I’m really trying to say. K, bye.
-SP
Things Men Carry 