Adventures in Babysitting

What a weekend. I hope everyone had a wonderful time. The weather here was on & off Saturday but Sunday was gorgeous.

On Saturday, two minors were left in my charge: a niece and nephew to be exact. The former is 4 the latter 6. Their parents attended a wedding and asked if I would watch the children. I eagerly accepted. Steve, quite suddenly, remembered he had a prior commitment.

I so adore children. It's not just the wide-eyed innocence and fascination with things we have seen a hundred times, although that's a major part of the adoration. It's just a wild roller-coaster ride. You never know what they'll say, ask or do. Chaos is so undervalued. No matter how crazy things get, chocolate always refocuses their attention. If only the adults in our lives were so uncomplicated.

What to do, what to do. I decided we'd head to town. First stop, the Aquarium. I had not been in ages and I may have had as good a time as they did. After that, s bite to eat and then the Children's Museum. Finally, back to the house for movies. We ordered pizza and ate. Then it was into their PJ's. I think they watched about twenty minutes of the movie before passing out.

A truly grand time. After that, I fixed myself a cup of tea and caught-up on some reading. I was relieved of my duties at midnight.

If I can have a day like that with my own children in the near future, it will be a dream come true. I realize every day won't be like that but I have a feeling it's the special days you remember, long after the cranky, crying days are forgotten.

Sunday...well Sunday had a more adult tone but that's not for this post.

Oh, before I forget. I received an e-mail from a blog that "showcases" sex blogs. I usually ignore these things but since they added Babylon Visited without a demand for reciprocation I thought I would check it out. It seems legit. So, if you're searching for some more reads, check out Love Boudoir (which should really be said in a rich, rolling, baritone voice).

Meow

One blog that always delivers is Nina's Lazy Geisha. This post, about Cougars, is a classic. To be honest, this was my first encounter with the term although it was known to Steve. Indeed, Steve has not only heard the term, he has had first-hand experience with this "most elusive and cunning of feminine felines." He'll even show you the scars.

A Cougar is, according to Nina:

"typically in her late thirties to early fifties, is financially secure, is professionally employed, has probably been married at least once, maybe twice, has an older child or two but isn’t tied down with little ones at home… so she can stay out at night and doesn’t need to worry about a babysitter, she looks good, she takes care of herself, and she wants to have fun, and that includes getting laid on some kind of regular basis, but she isn’t interested in being tied down either. Sometimes she wants romance and intimacy, but more often than not, she just wants to get seriously fucked silly stupid and doesn’t want the strings and responsibility of maintaining a relationship. She’s tried her hand at love and while she thinks that’s a wonderful sentiment – at this stage of the game, having good sex is a much better option — and believe me, we do have options."

Nina critiques an interview with a young, Cougar chaser. It's a real scream. Nina has the wonderful ability to softly, gently cut to, and through, the bone. The Cougar hunter explains some of his advanced and creative predatory techniques:

"A pedigree also helps, whether invented or real. For the cougar hunter, dropping a home address on the flat of Beacon Hill or in parts of the Back Bay or the South End can suggest a certain It factor, especially with women from the suburbs. “I like to tell cougars that I bought Johnny Damon’s condo in Back Bay when he signed with the Yankees,” says Chris, 27, a banker. “I’m bullshitting, of course, but as a rule, cougars love Johnny Damon. And by the time they get back to your place, it’s pretty much a moot point.”

Yes, today's big game hunter is more Elmer Fudd, less Allan Quartermain.

Finally, Nina asks if he, our Cougar chaser, "thinks we buy this bullshit?"

I've written about this topic before so stop reading if I've grown old and repetitive. However, I think much of this goes back to the internalizing/externalizing difference between many women and men.

I always thought that the ability of men to externalize was one of their greatest weaknesses and one of our greatest, albeit trying, strengths. When I fail, when I am criticized, when I am dumped, the fault is mine. I feel it is due to some inadequacy in my character or abilities. Dumped by a man....what did I do wrong? Did not get the job....why wasn't I good enough? If my term paper received a B+ then it deserved a B+, certainly not an A.

Many men, not all, but many, have the ability to externalize similar failures. The boss criticized my work....he's incompetent and couldn't find his own ass with two hands and a flashlight. She dumped me....she's a bitch anyway. Coach benched me....he knows I'm better than the other guy but he doesn't like me.....

The fault lies not in ourselves but in the stars.

Greatest weakness? I now think it may be their greatest strength. I knew some boys in high school. They had a band. They sucked. Everyone agreed they sucked. Actually, they would have to practice for a year to get to suck, so bad was their sub-suckiness. I also know that they will go to their deathbeds believing that they were terrific, perhaps capable, if lucky enough to be discovered, of being a household name. They will live their entire lives in blissful denial of the truth. And, in the end, I think they will be happier for that denial. Unflinching self-assessments are overrated.

So, to try and answer Nina's question: Perhaps the real question is not if we buy the admitted lies but does he? He's created his mythology. He is the suave, sleek big game hunter: Hercules tracking the Nemean Lion. I'm fairly confident that he is less interested in the answer to the question than in safeguarding his image. And, in the end, when he is old, tired, fat and incontinent, confined to his bed or dependent on a cane or walker, he'll always have his mythology: Those golden days and scented nights, when he heroically tracked and captured those most elusive and cunning of feminine felines.

As for me, I'll settle for being an old house cat, dozing by the fireplace on a cold winter's night.

Have a terrific and safe weekend.

Fiction Geek

My fictional self has been busier than I have of late.

I've had the honor of being in a second, fiction-piece. This time it's featured on Erotic Union, a blog maintained by a wonderful and sexy married couple that have become good blog friends. It's such a treat and quite flattering to be the subject, or one of the subjects, of a fictional work. Steve and I owe them a sincere thanks and look forward to the completion of the tale.

Question is: If I do something my fictional character has done, do I owe anyone royalties?

Speaking of Erotica, we have added a link, over on the right. It's Alicia Night Orchid. Alicia blogs but focuses primarily on her award-winning erotica. If you enjoy well-written, thoughtful erotica, this may be the place for you. It's high-caliber prose, unlike so much of the scribblings you find on the Internet.

And speaking of fiction, some friends and I had the most wonderful conversation a while back. What fictional books would you most like to read? Not actual works of fiction, but books mentioned in works of fiction. Yes, I'm a geek.

For instance, I always wanted to read The Theory and Practice of Oligarchical Collectivism. This is the outlawed book authored by Emmanuel Goldstein, from Orwell's Nineteen Eighty-Four. I don't know if I could read it cover-to-cover but I'd at least browse for a few hours.

Others:

The King in Yellow, a fictional play in Robert Chambers book, The King in Yellow;

Poems and Rhymes Around the World, from Palahniuk's Lullaby;

The Slayer Handbook, from Buffy, author unknown;

And, slightly off-topic, the suppressed film from Campbell's, Ancient Images. Campbell's novel is about the search for a 1938 horror film that, legend has it, starred Lugosi and Karloff. The film was immediately suppressed and no copies can be found.

I know it's geeky as hell but feel free to add your choices.

Turning the Tables

It's been some time since I did more than talk about swinging. There's a number of reasons, not the least of which is a growing sense of domesticity since my engagement. It's not conscious, but more akin to a biological imperative. I feel like nesting. My Calypso muse fled only to be replaced by my Penelope muse.

Odd, isn't it? Calypso offered non-stop sex and immortality and still her man eagerly departed her shore and braved the wine-dark see to return home. To Penelope, the ideal, wife.

This weekend I turned the tables on Steve. We went out with Chase. Her boyfriend was busy so it was just the three of us. I dressed casual: Jeans, sweater, hair in a ponytail. Chase looked very hot in a sexy, miniskirt and boots.

We went to a few bars and then, deep in our cups, hit a strip club. Not a club I would normal go to either. We just happened by and the wine I had imbibed had more to do with selection than anything else.

The girls weren't 'movie' or 'television' strippers. They looked more like drug addicts, although two were cute. We stayed about an hour and bought Steve a lap dance or two. One of the strippers asked Steve, why he was in the club instead of home with Chase and I.

On that note, we left and returned to my house.

This time, I was the observer: passive, clothed (mostly)...the voyeur. While Steve and Chase disrobed over time, I poured myself a drink, sat back in a chair, relaxed (for a while) and watched.

Chase is very pretty. She has the self-confidence that comes to those who have learned to live with their beauty without it turning to conceit. She is more self-assured and confident than I'll ever be.

Chase went down on Steve before I had even poured my drink. When I returned to the living room, Steve sat on the couch, his cock in Chase's mouth. After a few minutes passed, she stood and slowly undressed. We have similar bodies, slight with small tits, though hers are bigger than mine.

I was able to snap a few photos of them as they went about their business. They looked so hot together. If I didn't already know, I would have known it wasn't their first time together. They knew each other.

They fucked for nearly an hour. By the end, I had slid off my pants and just had to finger myself. By that time, they had finished and both turned to watch me. All in all, a fun evening.


Part III of Saratoga's story is here.


I hope all you wonderful mothers had a relaxing Mothers Day. Here's to hoping that the day brings added significance for Steve and I in the next few years.

Changes

Something has changed, however subtle, between Steve and I. It's a change in the 'swinging' aspect of our relationship and began post-engagement.

Steve has become....what? More territorial? More possessive? Jealous is not the right word, not by a long shot. Jealousy is not an intrinsic part of Steve's nature. Or mine. We have our moments, of course, but those moments tend to be of the garden-variety type of jealousy.

Case in point is my recent encounter with Jason's friend, Aaron. Before our engagement, Steve would have worked quickly to set up a meeting with Aaron. He would have phoned Aaron a few days after our meeting to try and set up a visit. Steve also would have asked me, at least once a week, when I thought Aaron and I might get together....

Now, he takes things much slower. There's no rush and while Steve said he'd love to watch Aaron and I, Steve has not set the ball in motion yet.

It's a change that I've touched upon but have not yet directly discussed with Steve. If our lifestyle is to continue changes will be made. We will be a family and protecting my family will be paramount. That means discretion in partners. Although I like Steve's current girlfriend, Chase, very much, he has had former partners of the less-than-mature variety. I don't need a vengeful, Medea-wannabe on my doorstep at 2:30 in the morning. It's bad for my complexion and won't win over the neighbors.

This also means veto-power over prospective partners. I primarily function on intuition and while not always accurate, intuition has served me well. I don't want to have to rationalize my feelings about someone Steve might sleep with when I get a bad feeling. The bad feeling should be enough. It will have to be enough.

I like this new development in Steve. I like this "territoriality." It's subtle, like when a man puts his hand on the small of your back to help usher you through a crowd. It's a light touch but just enough to now it's there. I know I'm not supposed to like it. I know such feelings will piss-off many feminists. I'm also liberated enough, and old enough, to know what I like, need and desire. I like Steve marking his territory. I like being his and that's okay because in other ways, I've made him mine.

In the meantime, Saratoga has posted Part II of his story. Stop by and let him know what you think.

Saratoga's Post

I read Saratoga's post involving Piper. Like her, I look forward to reading the remainder of the story.

I've had a longtime fantasy of Piper being gang banged. She's been a good sport, playing along with that fantasy without making me feel like I've crossed the line. If we did have the opportunity to have a gang bang, how would I feel about it?

Honestly, I'm not sure. The fantasy is fun because she always flirts with the idea and then says, no. I know she's going to say no but it's hot having your woman consider, if only for a few seconds, being fucked by a group of guys. In reality, I think I'd have problems with a gang bang, especially if it was a group of strangers.

In a gang bang, the woman is almost always passive, if for no other reason than she's extremely busy. In Saratoga's post, Piper has ten men doing her bidding. It does not have a gang bang feel to it because the woman is in charge. In that way, it's a new spin on the gang bang fantasy and very erotic. Although, one could say that, even in a gang bang, the woman is always in charge. If she ups and leaves, what do you have? A bunch of men standing around with their dicks in their hand.

Piper is rarely, if ever, dominant in bed. She has, on occasion, done the passive-aggressive thing where she will give me head with what some might call detached bemusement. She'll watch me as she blows me with a stoic, disinterest. That seems to me to be a subtle form of what? Dominance? Control? It's very sexy in infrequent doses.

Maybe Saratoga will capture that passive-aggressive atmosphere.

In the meantime, I'd like to thank Saratoga as well for cultivating a new fantasy for me. People fantasize about strangers all the time. There's nothing so hot as fantasizing about your girlfriend/fiancee.