I walk into the garage from the house, gently shutting the door behind me. The concrete is cold beneath my feet, and I wish I had put on my slippers. My robe hangs open, revealing my body beneath to nobody at all. As the Sunday morning sunlight shines through the window, I walk around my car and open the back door on the passenger’s side. I drop my robe to the floor and climb into the car, and settle onto the soft seats on my hands and knees.

I love being in this position. Even though the garage is cold and the frigid morning air stings a little, it turns me on. For one thing, doggy style is one of my favorite positions. The thought of being filled by a man I can’t see is so exciting. The animal passion of being fucked, hands holding my hips tightly, cock pounding me, drops of sweat dripping from his forehead onto the small of my back…all of these things arouse me about the position I’m in.

Most of all, I’m turned on by the idea of Jack coming into the garage and finding me like this. The car door is open, and I’m already wet. I can’t make it any easier for him than this. I even reach back and hold myself open. My touch feels good, and I rub my lips softly, then move to my clit. As I caress myself I imagine Jack crouching down behind me, savoring me with his hot tongue, and tracing the movements of my hand with his own.

My heart moves as quickly as my fingers do. My brain churns with the dirtiest scenarios I can imagine, and I can imagine a lot. I want to call out to Jack, but I can’t make words. I want to go back into the house, wake him up, and lead him into the garage so we can have our way with each other, but there’s no way I’m going to stop now. I’m close.

In a minute I am coming, and a minute later it’s over. As my heartbeat slows, I lie down on my stomach, letting my legs hang lazily out of the car door. For a minute, I actually fall asleep – I am that relaxed. Then I go back inside, and join Jack in bed.

-Jill

Virtually everyone knows the thrill of fooling around in the backseat of a car. As teenagers and young adults, privacy comes at a premium. When one is still living with one’s parents, one must improvise. Typically this improvisation comes in the form of driving to a secluded area – one of the parking lots at the junior college I attended had a spot that worked great when I was nineteen – and moving to the backseat. I’ll wager that many of us enjoyed some of our first sexual exploration with another person in this very manner.

It’s much easier when we’re older and leave the proverbial nest. We may live in apartments, or own our own homes. Thus, such illicit activity becomes unnecessary as we enjoy the benefits of privacy. But for some of us, Jill and I included, having sex in the back seat of a car remains a huge turn-on. The reasons for this are many, and paramount amongst them are the thrill of being naked (and vulnerable) in a semi-public setting and the risk that comes with the possibility of discovery; the notion of varying the routine by doing something unusual (and for us, having sex in a car when we have the option of having sex on a much more comfortable bed is unusual); and the nostalgia that comes with remembering our earlier sexual exploits in the backseat of a car (i.e. with other people).

When we first started dating, Jill lived in a condominium with an underground garage. We had been going out for a short while – perhaps two or three months – when we found ourselves returning home from a party thrown by some friends. We were both a little tipsy as Jill pulled into her parking space, and I know I wasn’t the only one with sex on the brain. She was wearing a black skirt that showed off a generous portion of her thigh, and a top that accentuated her breasts. Needless to say I had been thinking of taking these articles off of her all night.

As she parked the car, I unbuckled my seat belt and moved to open the car door. “Wait,” she said, and unbuckled her own seat belt. Before I knew it, she was unbuckling my other belt as well, and I barely had time to process what was happening before she had taken me into her mouth. I was instantly erect. I felt the familiar sensation of her hot lips sliding up and down my length, her tongue lapping at me with intense strokes, and in the dim light of the garage I watched her head bobbing up and down.

Jill didn’t let me get too hot. Clearly she had other plans beyond giving me a blowjob. She got out of the car, led me to the back seat, and lay down. I stood outside the open door, my pants still open, as she raised her back off the seat. She gathered up her skirt, showing off a pair of diaphanous black panties. Spreading her legs, she placed her right foot atop the seat near the car’s rear window, and her left she hooked around the front-passenger seat. I wasted no time in stripping her of her panties and dropped them on the floor of the backseat.

Closing the car door behind me, I knelt down on the seat and began to touch her thighs. Following my hands with my mouth, I kissed from her heels up to her knees.

“What are you doing?” she asked. “Get inside me!”

“I want to taste you,” I said, and ignored her protests. With my back bent into a very unnatural position, I leaned close and began to go down on her. She was very wet, her body perfumed with the scent of her desire. She tasted sweet as well, and I slipped two fingers inside her to augment the work my mouth was doing. Lapping at the source of her moisture, I began to thrust my tongue into her, her hips rising up to meet each lick. The sound of her breathing goaded me forward and she had her first orgasm quickly. It was a small one, however, and she wanted more.

“Why don’t you sit down?” she suggested. I did as I was told, and she yanked my pants down, leaving them bunched up at my ankles. Then she straddled me, her legs holding me down as my cock found its way inside her. She gasped. “You’re so deep,” she said breathlessly, and began to ride me, her hands firmly grasping my shoulders. We kissed briefly, but passionately, and I felt her legs tightening around my own as our bodies undulated together. I moved my mouth to her neck, sucking gently, and then started to unbutton her blouse. The bra she wore underneath matched the panties I had earlier discarded, and I pulled the cups aside, setting loose her breasts. As I sucked one of her quickly-stiffening nipples, her hands moved to the back of my head, pulling my mouth onto her and forcing me to draw more of her breast inside.

“I’m coming,” she said. It was barely a whisper. I held her ass in my hands as she bounced rapidly on top of me, her forcefulness pushing me to the brink of my own climax. Her moans turned me on even more than I already was, and she stifled herself by burying her face in my neck and shoulder. As she surfed the wave that was her orgasm, I could feel her interior stimulating me until I, too, was coming.

As I filled her, she threw her head back and moaned long and loud, no longer caring who heard. Once my orgasm had passed, she rose off of me and leaned over the front seat in search of some tissue or a napkin with which to clean us off. Moments later we were spotless save for sweat, completely dressed (with the exception of Jill’s panties, which remained forgotten in the backseat), and riding the elevator up to Jill’s condo.

-Jack

It’s sweltering in our hotel room, even with air conditioning on. You lie on your stomach, your face pressed against a cool cotton pillowcase. The lamp on our nightstand casts bright light across the bed, illuminating the scene of our lovemaking finished only moments ago. You are naked, a white bedsheet draped clumsily over your legs, doing little to cover you as you sleep. Your body is shiny with perspiration, a salty sheen of sweat clinging to your face, your back and shoulders. I can smell your scent in the air and it makes me think of sex. The sight of your body excites me, and even though I have just had you, I want you again.

I sit on the edge of the bed, listening to nothing at all. I can’t even hear the air conditioner. It’s still so hot that I wonder if it is even working. The sticky heat of the night is everywhere. I know I would be sweaty even if it were the middle of winter, you are that good. I remember the first time we stayed in a hotel together, your birthday weekend the year we met. I remember the excitement of hanging the Do Not Disturb sign on the door and not leaving our room, or even getting dressed, until it was time to check out. I remember realizing that I had never had as good a lover as you in my life. You were as good tonight as you were that weekend.

I lean over and touch your face, feeling your breath on my hand. It’s hot, but so reassuring. You sleep peacefully, and I am afraid of waking you. As I get up from the bed, I see myself in the mirror that hangs near the bathroom door. Like you, I am naked, soaked with sweat, my eyelids heavy and ready for sleep. I think back a few moments, to you telling me how sexy I am, how much you desire me, how everything I do turns you on. Your words are convincing, and in spite of my disheveled state, you make me believe them.

I come around the bed and turn off the lamp, then find my way back to my side in the dark, and lay down beside you. I love you so much.

Note that there is no signature at the end of this entry. It was in fact written by one of us, but under different circumstances it could very easily have been written by the other.

As the title suggests, this story was inspired by a dream I had recently. I decided to leave it very vague and not specify the identities of the two men. Maybe one is Jack, or maybe not. I will leave their identities to your imagination.

I walk into the room to find you both sitting on adjacent sofas. As I approach, I begin to pull up my skirt, gathering it at my waist. As it bunches up, it is plain to see that I am not wearing panties. I know that you are aroused to see me like this, and your excitement turns me on. I kneel down before him, holding my skirt so I don’t scuff it up. The floor is cold on my knees, and as I settle into my position I begin to massage his thighs through his jeans. He moans with anticipation, and after a moment of this exquisite torture he begins to unbuckle his belt.

Seeing no reason to rush things, I push his hands away gently. Finished caressing his legs, I move on to the place where they meet. He is already hard, that is plain to see. I hope you are too, but with my back to you, I can’t say for sure. I rub him with the palms of my hands, and imagine doing the same to you as well. I imagine feeling you in my warm, tight grasp. I imagine feeling you throb. I imagine holding your shaft with one hand and your balls with the other, as I take your moist, purple head between my lips. As I think these thoughts, I lower my mouth onto his erection, mouthing it through the denim, placing sweet kisses all over it. I can feel him buck against me in response.

He moans again, the sound an unspoken plea to take the next step. But I don’t. Instead I continue playing with him, using both my mouth and my hands to pleasure him. I know he likes it. He is unable to hide his desire from me, but I am still going to make him wait for relief. I kiss along his inner thighs while petting him all over, feeling him growing even harder under my touch. Behind me, I can hear you shifting on the sofa. I wonder if you would like a closer look.

I work my hand under his shirt and play with his nipples. With my other hand, I knead his hardness, anticipating his taste in my mouth. He throws his head back against the couch and stifles another moan, undoubtedly wondering what he did to deserve such agony. For a moment I feel merciful and I am tempted to release him, but I quickly reconsider. I am trying to put on a good show after all. I hear your belt buckle clatter to the floor along with your pants, and I realize I am succeeding. At this point it is only fair that I stop teasing him and really get to work, so together he and I open his jeans, letting his very hard, very thick cock spring forth.

Before long his jeans are all the way down, and I am pulling them off. I lick my lips lasciviously as I gaze upon him, swollen and throbbing with desire. At long last I part my lips and take him into my mouth. My head swims with excitement as his scent and his taste engulf me. As I lick him all over, I can hear his rapid breaths and I know that I am doing a good job. At the same time, I can also hear your breaths, and I don’t need to turn around to know exactly what you are doing. It excites me to know that you are so turned on by our show that you are masturbating. It turns me on to think that you like watching what I am doing, maybe enough to wish that you were on the receiving end, enjoying the efforts of my mouth and my tongue.

I quickly take him into my throat, and polish his smooth shaft with my tongue as I slide my lips back up to the tip of his head. My hands follow my mouth one after the other, stroking him from the base up to the tip as my tongue plays havoc over his frenulum and the ridge where head meets shaft. I begin to stroke him ever faster, eager for his climax. I wonder where he would like to come. At the same time I hear you breathing harder, and I hear the sounds of you pleasuring yourself. I hope you’ll come too. Just to make sure, I pull my skirt up to my hips, revealing a firm, shapely ass, and more. I reach back and spread myself open, hoping that this will help push you over the edge.

At the same time, I take his cock as deep as it can go, and his body trembles. His orgasm is imminent. Your moans tell me that yours is too. I feel you get up from the couch and my heart leaps as I anticipate your hardness filling me. I suck harder, faster, deeper, tasting him as he explodes. You stand over me, and I wonder what you’re waiting for. In an instant you are bathing my ass with your sticky warmth, and I sigh contentedly. Then I excuse myself to the shower.

-Jill

To break up the monotony, we exited the highway and stopped at a small twenty-four hour diner. We both ordered Cokes, the better to keep us awake for the rest of our drive, and looked through the menu. While we waited for the waitress to bring our drinks, I excused myself to the ladies’ room.

When I returned to my seat, I opened my purse and handed you a small remote control. Your jaw dropped. You knew right away that I’d gone to the ladies’ room to put in my bullet. I could feel it inside me, and I wondered what was taking you so long. As the realization hit you, the look on your face betrayed your excitement, and you thumbed the button on the remote. The small egg-shaped bullet began to vibrate, sending shockwaves of pleasure through my body.

The toy’s steady buzz was nice, but your excitement made it even better. You spent the next few minutes with your finger on the remote, switching it on and off in order to tease me. Finally I leaned across the table and whispered to you, telling you about my fantasy. You were intrigued, and wanted to hear more. I told you that I had always fantasized about having an orgasm in a public place, such as a restaurant. You always comply with my sexual whims and desires. It’s one of the things I love about you.

As you sat back to enjoy the show, the waitress came over to take our order. Without switching off the remote control, we both ordered quickly, then got back to the matter at hand. You left the toy running for awhile, but when our dinner came, you spent the meal teasing me, letting it run long enough for my climax to sneak up on me, then turning it off. I could barely concentrate on my meal.

We finished with dinner, paid the check, and hurried back to the car, my unfulfilled fantasy long forgotten. It was just as well. All I wanted to do was get off, and I had a feeling that I wasn’t going to be quiet about it. Once I was in the car, I had my skirt hiked up and my panties down in an instant. I reclined my seat and began playing between my legs. I put one foot up on the dashboard and when you glanced over at me you could see that I had two fingers inside me, and the bullet resting on my clit.

As you teased me with the remote, I finger-fucked myself until I was moaning with pleasure. My breath came in gasps as my orgasm neared. Soon my body was undulating on the car seat, my hips bucking up and down rapidly. I gave a loud cry as I finally came.

I collapsed against the seat, and slowly regained control of my breathing. “Ready for your turn?” I asked. You moved the driver’s seat back a bit, and we both scrambled to open your pants and get them down. As you raised your hips off the seat, I pulled down your shorts, delighted to see your cock, already standing up at full attention.

I wrapped one hand around your length. With my other hand I took the remote from you. You were surprised to feel the bullet buzzing against your frenulum as I leaned over to take you in my mouth. I moved the toy down to your balls, sucking you deeper, then backing away just as you began to throb.

You moaned, and begged me not to stop. I lapped at the head of your cock as if it were a popsicle. “Tell me when you’re close,” I said.

“I’m close.” I began to stroke you against my lips as you erupted against my cheek. I felt your warmth against my lips and on my chin, and I tried not to waste a drop. You sighed, satisfied by my efforts, and once I had cleaned you off you pulled your pants back up and started the car.

-Jill

I thought this was another interesting read, and should put things into perspective. Throughout my life, I have occasionally purchased lingerie for women with whom I have been involved. Although I am confident and generally not embarrassed in such a situation, it’s still not the easiest thing in the world to shop for. Determining the right size, selecting a style she’ll like, and trying to keep from getting wood while discussing bras and panties with frequently-attractive salesladies – all of these potentially make lingerie shopping difficult for men. The ladies have it so much easier. Well, at least they do in America.

Saudi women to spurn lingerie shops over salesmen

By Donna Abu-Nasr – Mar 25, 2009

RIYADH, Saudi Arabia (AP) — Before her wedding last year, Huda Batterjee went abroad to buy her bridal lingerie — she just couldn’t bear the humiliation of discussing her most intimate apparel with a man. She had little choice: there are almost no saleswomen in Saudi Arabia. Now a group of Saudi women — sick of having to deal with male sales staff when buying bras or panties, not to mention frilly negligees or thongs — have launched a campaign this week to boycott lingerie stores until they employ women.

It’s an irony of the kingdom’s strict segregation of the sexes. Only men are employed as sales staff to keep women from having to deal with male customers or work around men.

But in lingerie stores, that means men are talking to women about bras or thongs, looking them up and down to determine their cup sizes, even rubbing the underwear to show how stains can be washed out.

The result is mortifying for everyone involved — shoppers, salesmen, even the male relatives who accompany the women.

“When I buy underwear in Saudi, some salesmen say, ‘This is not the right size for you,'” said Batterjee. “You feel almost taken advantage of. Why is he looking at me in this way?”

So for her wedding trousseau, the 26-year-old went to neighboring Dubai to shop. She now lives in Virginia with her husband.

Heba al-Akki, a businesswoman who supports the boycott, said when she shops for underwear, “I go to a store, pick this, this and that and leave quickly. It’s as if I’m buying illegal stuff.”

It’s not easy on the salesmen either.

At one lingerie boutique in a Riyadh mall Wednesday, salesmen blushed when asked about their jobs. All said they back the campaign to hire female sales staff.

“Even in such open regions as the U.S. and Europe, men do not sell underwear to women,” said store manager Husam al-Mutayim, a 27-year-old Egyptian. “I don’t let any of my female relatives buy underwear from men. It’s just too embarrassing.”

Mannequins — headless in keeping with a ban on realistic depictions of women — were displayed in the shop window dressed in modest pajamas. Inside, racks held an array of colorful bras, lacy panties and sexy nighties — along with more day-to-day undergarments.

Under Saudi Arabia’s strict interpretation of Islamic law, women are required to cover themselves head-to-toe in black robes in public. But in the privacy of their own homes — and bedrooms — they can wear whatever they want, and sexy undergarments are popular.

But buying them is another story. Fitting rooms are banned in the kingdom — the idea of a woman undressing in a public place with men just outside is unthinkable. So a woman is never sure she has chosen the right size until she gets it home.

“I have bras with sizes ranging from 32 to 38 because I can’t get to try them on,” said Modie Batterjee, Huda’s sister and one of the boycott organizers.

Even male relatives get dragged into the embarrassment. Women are allowed to shop without a male relative, but husbands or brothers sometimes insist on coming along — or the women want them there — to ensure salesmen stay respectful.

Modie Batterjee recalls how her husband fled a lingerie store because he could not bear to hear her explain to a salesman that she wanted high-waisted underwear to hold in her tummy after their daughter’s birth.

The boycott was launched on Tuesday by about 50 women who gathered in the Red Sea port of Jiddah at the Al-Bidaya Breast-feeding Resource and Women’s Awareness Center, which is run by Modie Batterjee.

The aim is to push for implementation of a law that has been on the books since 2006 which says only female staff can be employed in women’s apparel stores.

The law has never been put into effect, partly due to hard-liners in the religious establishment who oppose employing women in mixed environments like malls, where religious police are always on the lookout to keep men and women from interacting.

Hiring women would also deprive men of jobs in a country where more than 10 percent of men are unemployed.

“We are raising awareness and calling for the implementation of the law,” said Reem Asaad, a finance lecturer at Dar al-Hikma Women’s College in Jiddah, who supports the boycott.

The campaign calls on women to shop at the country’s few women-only lingerie stores. Usually stand-alone boutiques or located in malls that have women-only sections, these shops have no windows to ensure passing men cannot look in — and giving women the freedom to actually try things on.

How much impact the boycott call will have is unclear. Almost 1,700 people signed an online petition posted by Asaad on the social networking Web site Facebook. A few Saudi papers have written about it, but the campaign depends mostly on word of mouth.

Not all women support the idea. At the Riyadh lingerie shop on Wednesday, one woman — only her eyes visible through the black veil covering her face — said she is suspicious of women-only lingerie shops.

“Bad things happen there,” she said.

What might that be?

Women can sneak a picture of you changing with their mobile phones, she replied and refused to give her name.

I think that’s enough articles for awhile. Stay tuned for something (hopefully) a bit more stimulating very soon.

-Jack

I thought this was an interesting read:

Judge orders FDA to let 17-year-olds use Plan B

NEW YORK – The Food and Drug Administration let politics cloud its judgment when it denied teenage girls over-the-counter access to the Plan B morning-after pill, a federal judge said Monday as he ordered the FDA to let 17-year-olds obtain the medication.

In a thorough denunciation of the Bush administration, U.S. District Judge Edward Korman blasted the FDA’s handling of the issue, saying it had “repeatedly and unreasonably” delayed issuing a decision on the medication.

The morning-after pill is a source of tension for social conservatives who held great sway in the Bush administration and who believe the pill is tantamount to abortion.

The ruling said the FDA in several instances had delayed issuing a ruling for suspect reasons and on two occasions only took action to facilitate the confirmation of acting FDA commissioners whose confirmations had been held up by the repeated delays.

“These political considerations, delays, and implausible justifications for decision-making are not the only evidence of a lack of good faith and reasoned decision-making,” Korman said. “Indeed, the record is clear that the FDA’s course of conduct regarding Plan B departed in significant ways from the agency’s normal procedures regarding similar applications to switch a drug product from prescription to non-prescription use.”

The drug is marketed by Montvale, N.J.-based Barr Pharmaceuticals Inc. as Plan B. Korman ordered the FDA to permit Barr Pharmaceuticals to make Plan B available to 17-year-olds without a prescription under the same conditions as Plan B is now available to women over the age of 18. He said his order must be complied with within 30 days.

The FDA said it is reviewing the judge’s decision. Women’s groups said it’s unlikely that the Obama administration would appeal. Social conservatives decried the ruling.

Susan Wood resigned as the top FDA official for women’s health in 2005 to protest agency delays in issuing a decision on the morning-after pill. Now a professor at George Washington University’s school of public health, Wood said the ruling represents a vote of confidence in the FDA’s scientific staff.

“What happened with Plan B demonstrated that the agency was off track, and was not being allowed to do its job properly,” Wood said. “This is telling the FDA to move forward with a focus on good science.”

The conservative Family Research Council said the judge’s decision bowed to ideological pressure from the left.

“Judge Korman has accepted lock, stock, and barrel all of the claims of a political ideology promoting sexual license for teens,” said Chris Gacek, a regulation expert with the group.

“There is a real danger that Plan B may be given to women, especially sexually abused women and minors, under coercion or without their consent,” Gacek added in a statement.

In February 2001, the Association of Reproductive Health Professionals and 65 other organizations petitioned the FDA to make Plan B available over the counter to all, regardless of age. The FDA did not respond for five years, announcing in 2006 that the petition was denied.

As part of his order, Korman vacated the petition’s denial and required the FDA to reconsider its decisions regarding the Plan B switch to over-the-counter use.

The lawsuit was filed in 2005 by the Center for Reproductive Rights and others.

In his ruling, Korman noted that FDA officials as far back as June 2002 discussed the “political sensitivity” of making Plan B available over the counter.

And he said depositions by several FDA senior staff members revealed that political and ideological factors played an important role in the nomination and selection process of members of FDA committees that would recommend how the FDA should act on Plan B requests.

One doctor testified that the FDA commissioner’s office appointed members to its advisory committee not for their expertise but to achieve a “balance of opinion,” meaning they were very active in the anti-abortion movement, Korman said.

Still, the FDA’s Advisory Committee voted 23 to 4 in 2003 to approve Plan B for over-the-counter status without age restrictions. However, out of nearly two dozen applications to move a prescription drug to over-the-counter status, the Plan B request was the only one not approved after the committee recommended it.

The judge said top FDA officials at a meeting in late 2003 or early 2004 told their subordinates that over-the-counter status for Plan B would not be approved at that time and that it was a decision that would be made at a higher level in the FDA than those decisions are usually made.

“Moreover, they were told that the White House had been involved in the decision on Plan B,” he said.

“Today’s ruling is a tremendous victory for all Americans who expect the government to safeguard public health,” said Nancy Northup, president of the center.

Assistant U.S. Attorney F. Franklin Amanat, who argued the case for the government, said: “We’re studying the decision and evaluating options.”

“We need to discuss it with the agency and figure out what our next steps will be,” he said.

The government in court papers has said politics played no role in the agency’s decisions.

Plan B is a contraceptive that reduces the chance of pregnancy if taken within three days after sex. It contains a high dose of of birth control drugs. The drug works by preventing ovulation or by interfering with implantation of a fertilized egg. Opponents argue that is the equivalent of abortion.

In 2006, the FDA allowed Plan B to be sold without a prescription to adults, but only by pharmacies that checked photo ID before selling the pills. Girls 17 and younger were required to obtain a prescription.

Barr is now owned by Teva Pharmaceutical Industries, a global company headquartered in Israel.
___

Associated Press Writer Ricardo Alonso-Zaldivar in Washington contributed to this story.

-Jack

During a weekend shopping trip, Jill and I found ourselves at Suzie’s, our favorite local adult store. As we looked around, Jill gravitated toward a doorway in the corner of the store, and she stood outside as though contemplating whether to go in.

“Is that where the peep booths are?” she asked. Unsure as to whether or not she was joking, I passed the doorway and moved into the video rental section. Jill lingered there. “Seriously,” she continued, “what’s back there? Do they have women dancing or what?”

“Probably not,” I said, smiling at my wife’s naïvete as I scanned the DVD racks. “I’m sure it’s just movies you can watch.”

“Really?” she asked, still looking toward the doorway. I could hear more than a slight trace of curiosity in her voice. “So what? Guys go in there and watch porn and what? Jerk off?”

Why else would guys watch porn if not to masturbate? I certainly don’t do it for the storylines or the acting. Then again, in the past Jill and I have watched porn the way other people might watch 1950s B-movies: To heckle and laugh. But I’m pretty sure that was her idea. As I led her away from the door way I said, “Yeah, I guess so.”

“No way,” she said, as though she had just been told that one of the booths held a talking German shepherd handing out thousand-dollar bills to women with her exact name.

I was surprised by her surprise; there was no way that she was unaware that such booths existed, and I called her on it. “You’re kidding, right? You can’t be that sheltered.”

“I’m not!” she insisted. “I’ve just never been to a store where they had that. And guys really jerk off in there?” I nodded. Knowing my wife the way I do, I immediately thought of several questions she probably wanted to ask, and I wasn’t surprised when she did in fact ask one: “Do they do it all together?” My wife makes no secret about her fascination with the penis, and not just mine. She once seemed disappointed when I told her that men’s restrooms typically don’t consist of a large, circular trough around which men stand to urinate. To this day I can’t fathom where her misconception came from, though she swears she saw such a thing in a men’s room once.

I resisted the urge to chuckle over the question, not wanting Jill to think I was laughing at her. “They’re booths,” I reiterated. “Each guy goes into a booth and picks whatever movie he wants to watch. It’s private.”

I wondered if the privacy aspect made it more appealing to her, or less. We browsed the video section, occasionally picking up DVDs that caught our eye. But I could tell that she was still focused on the video booths. Finally she spoke: “So how does it work? You have to pay for it, right?” I told Jill that, yes, an adult video store would definitely charge a patron to watch porn in their booths in order to be able to pay its staff to clean up after said patron. Beyond that, I honestly wasn’t sure. I’d never been in such a booth, but I was aware of how they worked. I seemed to recall reading that the old coin-operated booths of yesteryear had given way to ones that could read a debit card, or else a user could purchase a block of time from the store’s cashier. I had no idea how the booths worked at Suzie’s.

Her next question was one I’d wondered myself: “Why would you pay to watch porn here when you can do it at home?” It was a thought-provoking question, one that a woman like Jill, accustomed to the convenience of downloading porn from the internet, would ask. And I had to think about it. While there were a great many answers to her question, it took me a few minutes to think of them.

“Maybe it’s cheaper to watch it here than to rent a DVD and take it home,” I said. She expressed disbelief at this. Again, I had no idea what it cost to sit in one of Suzie’s booths and watch porn, but I had to think that, unless the rental price was astronomical, it probably would have been worth it to pay the difference and jerk off in the privacy of my own home. All at once, possible reasons flooded my mind, and I began to rattle them off: “Also, don’t forget not everyone is in a relationship like ours. A guy who comes here, maybe he’s got a wife who won’t let him look at porn.”

She seemed to be considering this scenario, though I could tell she found it implausible. I continued. “Maybe they’re kids who still live at home, and their parents are fundamentally against it. Maybe they’re on parole and they’re not allowed to have porn. If their parole officer does an inspection and finds porn at their house, they go back to prison. So they come here instead.”

I could tell that none of these possibilities had crossed her mind, and it occurred to me that I was lucky to be married to someone who was so confident in herself, and in our relationship, that she didn’t care if I looked at porn when I was alone, and in fact was happy to watch it with me in order to augment our sex life. I could very easily have married someone who was less open to the idea of porn, or who felt threatened by it, and that possibility was downright scary. Silently I counted my many blessings.

As I replaced the DVD I’d been looking at on the shelf, I glanced at my wife, who was again peering toward the doorway to the arcade. I knew she was curious about the type of men in the booths; in her mind they were all strapping, broad-chested men in their twenties and thirties, each impressively-endowed and with no apparent hygiene problems. She was probably wondering if any women went in there, or any couples, or if couples were even allowed in a single booth. (Well, I know I was wondering about that.)

“How much does it cost?” she asked. “Can we find out?” I hadn’t expected these particular questions, though it made sense. I knew she wanted to go in, if only to try and satisfy her curiosity. She didn’t want to watch porn there, not when our home was relatively safer and cleaner. In fact, I suspected that if she couldn’t see the other patrons – which I assured her she would most certainly not be able to do – the novelty would be short-lived.

I speculated that it probably wasn’t cheap enough to justify paying for it, not when we could watch any of a number of porn films at the touch of a button at home without coughing up a dime. Jill admitted that this made sense, since the people who watch porn at an adult video store likely had no other option. Of course, I knew she was still curious.

I, on the other hand, didn’t have the slightest interest in visiting the booths. Although given my wife’s sudden interest, this was changing. I wouldn’t have minded, say, getting some oral sex or fingering Jill while she fantasized about watching strapping, broad-chested men in their twenties and thirties getting off, all to the standard boom-chicka-wah-wah porno soundtrack. Of course, I suspected that, even if couples were allowed inside the booths, they weren’t spacious enough to comfortably accommodate two people. Still, it might have been worth looking into, even if it required a couple extra dollars for the employee on duty to ignore the fact that we would be violating their hypothetical “one person per booth” rule.

Then we watched as a couple patrons exited, and suffice it to say that they fell very short of her imagined ideal. Though we left Suzie’s with a small bag of new purchases, we did not try out the booths that day. I actually felt bad; I wish we would have left sooner, before Jill’s fantasy of strapping, broad-chested men in their twenties and thirties, each impressively-endowed and with no apparent hygiene problems, standing shoulder-to-shoulder and working toward exquisite simultaneous release (or whatever she might have had in mind) was dashed to pieces.

In doing some research for this entry, I came across the following article:

Dump truck crashes into video arcade in SF

The back of a dump truck delivering 20 tons of dirt to businesses on Sixth Street in San Francisco tipped and crashed into an adult video arcade this morning, narrowly missing three patrons.

“It was close,” said a video clerk at the Liberty Bookstore, who identified himself as Jersey Dog. “One guy was near the inside of the wall, but no one was hurt.”

The incident happened at 9:10 a.m. when Sukhdev Singh of Economy Trucking was dumping dirt to be used to fill in several businesses’ sub-basements on the 100 block of Sixth Street, said Sheri Costa, a spokeswoman for the city Department of Public Works.

The back of the truck tipped over to the side and into the wall of the store, shattering windows and dumping dirt into the part of the store that houses booths for video peep shows.

Firefighters used a thermal imager to ensure that no one had been buried dead or alive under the mound of dirt. Then they closed off the area and waited for a building inspector to deem the building structurally sound.

Traffic on the stretch of Sixth south of Mission Street was only slightly affected, mainly by motorists leaning out their windows to snap pictures with their camera phones.

Police Sgt. Jim Millett said he didn’t know who would have to pay for the damage. But, he said, “there are liability issues here for sure.”

Both the Department of Public Works and the city Redevelopment Agency are trying to improve the blighted stretch of Sixth Street by putting in street lights, new sewers and sidewalks. But first, the local businesses have agreed to pay some of the cost of bringing their sub-basements up to code.

No one could explain the upending of the back of the truck, but driver Singh blamed the road, which he said was uneven.

This is the second accident in as many years to damage adult stores at the corner of Sixth and Mission streets.

On Dec. 15, 2003, a 14-Mission bus slammed into the Golden Gate Adult Superstore across the street from the Liberty Bookstore. Seventeen people were hurt in that accident.

Read that second-to-last paragraph again: “This is the second accident in as many years to damage adult stores at the corner of Sixth and Mission streets.” Weird.

-Jack

I don’t work on weekends. Well, that’s not entirely true. I do work the occasional weekend, but it’s so infrequent that I think it’s fair to say that I don’t. But while working on a recent Saturday, I spent the first hour happily deluged by text messages from Jill listing in detail all the fun things she wanted to do to me when I returned home. Needless to say this affected my ability to concentrate on the task at hand, only delaying me further. But I wasn’t complaining.

Eventually the texts let up, and though I missed receiving them, I was glad to be able to focus. I continued with my day, and by the very early afternoon I found myself with an unexpected break and decided to head home for lunch, and if possible, some sex. Jill wasn’t expecting me until later, and at any rate, she had a nail appointment and I assumed she would be out. I had resigned myself to the likelihood that the only sex I would be having would be alone, but what the hell? It’s still sex.

Imagine my surprise when I pulled onto our street and found Jill’s car still parked in the driveway. I was in luck! The afternoon was looking up, and I had forgotten all about lunch. As I parked the car I got my house key ready so I wouldn’t waste time fumbling for the correct one. I unlocked the front door, wondering if I might catch her in the shower, or otherwise naked. That would be ideal.

As I walked in she was nowhere to be seen, but the sounds of lovemaking filled my ears. Passionate but exaggerated moans beckoned me inside, and after closing the front door noiselessly, I ventured into the house. I found Jill in my office, sitting at my desk, her back toward me as she watched porn on my computer. She was sitting low in my chair, her feet up on my desk so that her freshly-painted toes glittered red in the afternoon sunshine like rubies.

It took me a few seconds to realize what I had walked into. I love watching Jill pleasuring herself, and it’s rare that I get to watch without her being aware that I am doing it. I didn’t want to interrupt her or otherwise throw her rhythm off, nor did I want her to feel she had to “perform” for me in some way. I stood in the doorway and kept quiet, grateful for the show. Our Liberator Throe blanket was stuffed underneath her, the edges of its red corners draped across the floor. In one hand she held a toy, its faint buzz all but drowned out by the sounds coming from my computer.

In one corner of the screen, a big-haired and big-breasted porn star in stockings and a garter belt was bent over an ottoman while a familiar-looking guy had sex with her from behind in a hair salon. I had watched the video before, but at the moment I was less interested in the coupling occurring onscreen than I was in what my wife was doing mere feet in front of me. Holding the toy in one hand, she massaged her breasts with the other. She moaned softly, betraying the pleasure she was feeling, and I noticed her legs trembling. I was already aroused, but the prospect of watching my wife come turned me on even more, and I began to knead my erection through my pants.

In a small window in another corner of the screen I could see a very erect cock being stroked. As far as I was aware, there were no male masturbation videos on my computer, and I realized that Jill was watching someone’s webcam. Furthermore, I could see the familiar white cord of our own webcam plugged into the USB port on the computer, and it wasn’t difficult to guess where it was pointing. My erection throbbed, and strained to get free. I slipped a hand down my pants in the hopes of quieting its rage, at the same time wondering who she was watching, and wondering if he liked what he saw.

At the same time, Jill moved her free hand out of sight, and my brain filled with thoughts of what she might have been doing with it. There was no way I was going to be able to hold out much longer. I didn’t have to. All at once a fierce and noisy orgasm overtook Jill, her legs almost flailing as her lower body undulated along my desk chair. Her moans lingered, at one point growing even louder than the porn she was watching. It was probably a good thing that she had the foresight to place the Throe under her.

I retreated from the office, quietly moving back to the front door, which I opened and slammed as a means of announcing my arrival. I wanted sex, and I couldn’t wait. I returned to my office, finding Jill in the same position in which I’d left her, but this time she looked much more relaxed, her eyes closed and her head thrown back as she caught her breath.

“Hi,” I said. Her eyes opened and she smiled when she saw me in the doorway. She said hello, then rose from the chair and led me into our bedroom. The sex was perfect as usual, moreso thanks to the fact that I got to watch my wife show off clandestinely. Watching her playing with herself would have been enough of a thrill, but the fact that there were webcams involved added a naughty new dimension.

When we lived apart, Jill and I would frequently perform on our webcams for each other. When one of us wasn’t available, it wasn’t unusual for the other to cam with someone else, usually a stranger, someone from our respective friend lists on Yahoo! Messenger. We don’t cam alone much anymore though. It’s not that we’ve forbidden each other from doing it or anything, it’s just rare that one of us finds him- or herself home alone with enough time, not to mention the fact that we find it difficult to find suitable people to cam with when the mood strikes. Although clearly Jill had managed to find a single guy who was as in need of some titillation as she was.

Before we were married, Jill had a male friend on Yahoo! Messenger with whom she would chat, and frequently they would cam together. I used to enjoy hearing about the shows she put on, the shows she got to watch, and the things she fantasized about while it was happening. As we had sex, I wondered if the cock she had been watching was his.

When we were finished, we lay together in silence. I wanted to ask about her friend, but didn’t. Jill spoke first: “Why did you leave the room after I came?”

-Jack

I had a very nice dream a few nights ago, involving myself and a friend of ours. It was an intense and exciting dream and so I thought I would blog about it.

As I awaken I turn over in bed and am surprised to find you beside me. I am not displeased by your presence, rather quite the opposite. As you lean close to me I can feel your breath on my face. Your mouth gently brushes my cheek as you move in to kiss me. As our lips touch, I give myself to you, surrendering to your kiss.

You taste different than my husband. Not worse, not better. But if my eyes were closed, I would know immediately that the lips touching mine were not his. I am too aroused even to speak, so I close my eyes and enjoy the sensations your lips provide.

As you sensuously lick my lips, I open my mouth and you slip your tongue inside, then quickly pull it away. I am aroused by your boldness, and in seconds we have changed places. Now my tongue explores the inside of your mouth before retreating. You move down my body, sucking gently on my neck before returning to my hungry mouth.

The feel of you beside me is comforting. Your hands are warm as they move up my hips and over my stomach. You reach my breasts, touching them softly, and my nipples rise to meet your fingertips. As we continue to kiss, I feel you kneading my breasts and your touch sends shockwaves of pleasure coursing through me.

When the kiss breaks, you move onto your back. I lean over you and touch you, nuzzling your neck as my hands explore your body just as you did mine. I move to your lips, kissing you passionately and at the same time massaging your full, beautiful breasts. After a moment, I kiss my way down your chin, along your lovely white neck. “I’ve always wanted to do this,” I say as I near your breasts.

Then I am awake. This time, you are not beside me.

Frustrating, isn’t it? Well that is exactly how I felt! The dream itself was a little different (I think somebody was filming us) but that is a pretty close retelling. If only we could continue our dreams the following night…

-Jill