|
Update
|
Mar 17, 2006 5:55 am
213 Views
|
Update
I haven't updated this blog in 2 or 3 days. Hmm, last night, I was sporting a painful ankle. Driving me up the wall, it is!!!. I was in bed. I usually go to bed very late these days. Instant chatting with my friends, mostly from China. An interesting guy from Pakistan last night. In desperation I did some search on "swoolen knees"... I reckon I need to get some exercise. Start jogging. I was looking at myself in the mirror the other day. I'm not far removed from the Buddha in his later years now with my abundant stomach.
Hmm, I came to a resolution last night and that I don't want anything more to do with my mum. I'm going to tell her the next time she rings (a dead certainty) not to ring me any more (at least until December). I need to be independent. She keeps sending me money and clothes I never ask for. I want her out of my life for my own sake and for hers too. She's enjoying her retirement. She doesn't need me to siphon off her hard-earned pension and additional income from a 1 day-per-week job she does in a Dublin hospital. So, it's over. It's finito.
I'll tell her I don't even want her to phone me and if she does, I'll hang up the phone... Once again, earlier, this week, she said to me not to go to bad places in the internet. I presume she is referring to my sexually explicit entries in blogs. I'm fed up of this. I'm fed up of her pretending to take the moral high ground... I'm not listening to her preaching any more. She's sinbinned just like my brother is. Oh, and she mentioned some spectacled, blonde, tall guy who had called personally to my mum's house and asked for my phone number. And, when I asked her what was his name. SHe said she couldn't remember. Apparently, she just took as accepted his claim, whoever, he was, that he was my friend and, on this basis, my mum gave him my phone number. I don't believe my mum's story. I believe my mum's trying to intimidate me. I've had enough.
I need to stand on my own feed. I need to be independent. I don't have enough money. I'm on the dole with bills to pay but I have got to manage. Not more bloody MacDonalds. It's too expensive. Budget, budget, budget. It's called the great game of survival, Paul. You're 31. Christ, people, half your age, are going out on their own and you're not... Get with the programme.
|
|
|
0
Comments
|
|
|
Oh, and why did my mother call?
|
Mar 14, 2006 5:17 pm
220 Views
|
Oh, and why did my mother call?
I think the first question out of her mouth was,
"Have you found a job yet?"
Hell, mum, I've got a sore leg and I'm writing. I'm going to resist the circling vultures ready to spring a job on me of flipping burgers at McDonalds for 40 hours a week, making minimum wage.
Paul Carr (I'm entitled to be creative and introspective and sociable once in a while)
|
|
|
0
Comments
|
|
|
I'm thinking of divorcing my mum.
|
Mar 14, 2006 5:04 pm
211 Views
|
I'm thinking of divorcing my mum.
Oh, I forgot to mention another example of the digging cruelty of my mum. She says to me on the phone today. I say to her "Mum, stop ringing me 3 or 4 times every day - keep it at twice a week please". My mum replies. "Who else will ring you. You have no (other) friends". I don't know why I put up with her. I should just divorce her.
I don't need to put up with this crap. I have enough problems on my plate as it is.
Paul Carr
I also told her to give me back the key to my grotty apartment and stop making unannounced visits to my apartment/bedsit.
|
|
|
0
Comments
|
|
|
Doubts
|
Mar 14, 2006 4:43 pm
197 Views
|
I'm having doubts about the worthwhileness of these blogs...
My mum disapproves. So does my brother. My sister I don't know. I expect she will be calling me on Friday to meet up and I don't know if she will mention it. I hope she doesn't.... But, if she does, I will tell her the same thing I have told my brother and my mother.
I have a thing called "Freedom of Speech" and I have the right to exercise it. I am not going to be deterred in exercising it because I am afraid other people will be hurt.
I've got a painful ankle. It makes me grumpy. I ask myself even if I can anything in this blog, my ankle will still be painful and I will still be grumpy. No woman will be able or willing to put up with my grumpiness. I can only pray that in subsequent nights, I won't feel so down.
My mum phoned me today. Sometimes, she phones me 3 or 4 times a day. I don't want this. I told her today just to phone me twice a week.
She knows how to wound me and she doesn't respect me one bit. I told her I didn't want her money. I didn't want her clothes. She keeps sending me money and clothes even though I don't ask her for them. I tried to be as calm as I could with her. Another thing. She told me today that there was this guy who came to her house where she lives and wanted my phone number. I asked her who he was. She couldn't tell me. She said he was tall, blond hair and wore glasses. Yup, I'm stumped. Who was this guy? My mum gave him my phone number, assuming he was a friend of mine but I have received no phone call from him as of yet.
What is odd about this is that I have told nobody whatsoever about my mother's address. So, how come he knew to go to my mum's door? It's weird. I'm not sure my mom is telling me the whole truth.
So, anyway, to recap, I have doubts about this whole enterprise. But, I am one bloody stubborn guy. Even a guy in pain deserves love and sexual arousal and sexual escapades.
Paul Carr
|
|
|
0
Comments
|
|
|
More Thoughts
|
Mar 14, 2006 4:11 pm
169 Views
|
Hmm, writing updates in these blogs is difficult. My policy is to be an extreme as possible in order to shake some interesting and hidden little secret about myself out, some secret unbeknownst even to myself.
But, on the whole, I enjoy writing these blogs. Like any work, obviously, the start isn't easy but once you get into the stride of it, then things are easier and you can start to have fun.
I feel impelled though, once again, to recap what I have already written about.
Hmm, I'm trying to think of something new to write today....
Hmm.
Something interesting, at least, to me.....
Hmm.
But, tonight, it seems my mind is like a block....
Oh, one thing I would like to write about is that I have noticed that since I started writing these sexually explicit blogs (blogger/blogsource/alt.com/adultfriendfinder/alt.com/, I have acquired more of a sense of humour about it and have become more relaxed and easy-going about it.
That, I suppose, is a positive.
To recap something I have already written, I have spent some time writing about sexual fantasies which I have had. As a result, I realized that sexual fantasies are one thing, the actual mechanics of having sex another matter entirely.
Hmm, I don't expect I will be writing anything really interesting in these blogs for some time yet. Maybe, not until June/July. Until then, I expect I will be getting very few comments. Though, comments from Brenda are very much appreciated. 
[Sigh]
I suppose tonight isn't a good time for me. My ankle is killing me!!. I'm going to get this leg cut off.
Oh, I have thought of something else to write. Hmm, a few days ago, I was walking down the street here in Dublin and I saw this couple. They were Chinese. A young couple. I knew the young woman. I used to teach her English at an English language school. I think she was 19 at the time. She has the face of an angle with these beautiful sleepy eyes and drooping eyelids. Anyway, I expect she's about 21/22 now. I remember her. Both her parents are doctors. But, she wasn't interested in becoming one herself. Anyway, I sometimes see her and her boyfriend walking together, holding each others hands. Walking hand-in-hand. They seem to be very very happy together. I saw them about 6 months ago too holding hands. And, I wonder are they having sex? I expect they are. I expect they are getting up to all sorts of no-holds-barred, naughty sex. And why not? She doesn't have any hang-ups.
Hmm, what else to write about???
Tonight, my imagination has dulled down.
Paul Carr
|
|
|
0
Comments
|
|
|
The Mind Unlocks the Imagination.
|
Mar 8, 2006 5:11 pm
222 Views
|
Crumbs, nobody is visiting my blogger website, apart from 3 or 4. Gawd, disappointing. I'm wondering how I can increase traffic to this blog. Hmm, maybe, direct links. Usually, when I chat to friends, I give the indirect link to my msn spaces blog instead. I guess I'm a shy guy. Sorry, about that.
Why do I keep sex blogs. I guess I have answered this question a few times already but I see no harm in answering it again and again. Maybe, in the process, the introspective process, I was learn more and more about myself.
Well, to my mind, without a shadow of doubt, it is an act of desperation.
Yeah, I have been speaking of sexual fantasies I have had. I'm sure there are more brewing in my head. But, also, I guess it forces me to think about the practical mechanics of sex. I've surrounded my idea of sex with a sumptous haze of romance, sexual fantasies around being dominated, cosseted, and spanked by a gorgeous voluptuous dominatrix and so on. But, really, actual sex is a rather unglamourous affair. It seems to me (speaking from a virgin's standpoint), sex is about playing with one's cock (for the guy) in the run up to actual copulation inside or outside the woman's vagina area or another one of her orifices or not.
I sinerely doubt that when it comes to it, even the most gorgeous woman can cause me to copulate just at the magnificent sight of her without use of one's hands. Though, I suppose the mind does unlock the imagination. And, for me, as a sexually repressed virgin, yeah, I do need, ever so badly to unlock my imagination.
I've already written before about the lack of practice I had as an adolescent in "chatting up" girls. I stayed at home and played with myself in my bedroom. As well as being bitter and angry. This actual, practical practice of chatting up girls is vitally important. You like someone, you want to act upon it after all.
Yeah, can you see my problem now? I see a girl. I like her but I can't act on it. I'm painfully shy. Maybe, I am loosening up. For example, tonight, I met a gorgeous young woman in the cinema who I hadn't seen in over a year. I was delighted to see her. What did I do? Well, first of all, guess what, I ignored her and continued to walk down the queue. Then, I reconsidered. I thought, hey, I like this girl. Actually, a few weeks ago, I was thinking that, if I saw her again, I would give her my blog card for my msn spaces non-sexually oriented content. Well, anyway, I went over to her and said hello but I didn't go as far as giving her my blog card. Who know, maybe, the next time, I see her, she will walk up to me and then, I will feel up to giving her my card. I'm sooo painfully shy. In any case, just shaking her hand, smiling my imperfect teeth at her, calling her by her name (I hadn't forgotten you know) and then, important this, walking on, because I don't want to give her the impression I'm coming on too strong on her.
You probably think this is a little bit pathetic but, actually, I'm telling you the truth here as best I can.
Hmm, now what will I write about....... Another sexual fantasy......
Oh, the other day, I successfully downloaded two films from the Japanese series, Zerowoman, the very first one, called "Red Handcuffs" and the first one in the nineties called "Final Mission". They're both good but I have to say I prefer "Red Handcuffs" so far. Despite the fact, that they were speaking japanese and I couldn't find any subtitles anywhere I could download from the internet. I was compelling and sometimes arousing viewing. I watched the film from start to finish. Often, I don't have the discipline to do this. At the very end, Zero -woman, Rei, fights back against her male capture, to music, using her black power boots, overpowers the man with the help of her famed Red Handcuffs which she can use with perfect efficiency.
Then, in "Final Mission", I watched the first 30 minutes last night, Zero woman has a marathon sex tryst with this lucky guy of her attentions which lasts and lasts and lasts. She's a ravenous sex machine. I like the zero woman series. Another thing, that struck me about it, was the lack of emotion expression on zero woman's face even in scenes where she is being and beaten. In "Red Handcuffs" especially she is beaten physically a lot, mostly by men. Japanese films seem to have a lack of convention and mores which constrains American films, by way of comparison.
I suppose Japanese society in the last quarter of the 20th century was still a very conservative country and society but in more culturally sophisticated parts like Osaka and Tokyo people were struggling to break free from the old social mores. Gender inversion was one way of breaking free from the cultural straight-jacket. Coming from a very conservative background in rural Ireland, therefore, I can relate to these films.
There's a great scene at the end of "Zero woman - final mission" where the bad guy and rei - Zerowoman fire guns at each other. The bullets hit their targets. The bad guy falls to the ground, bleeding badly and starts to slowly die whilst, Zerowoman, knocked temporarily unconscious, revives herself and gets slowly to her feet again. The bullet has hit a cigarette case she kept inside her blouse in her chest area. The man, who initially was on his feet, falls to her knees, losing blood rapidly, and zerowoman, initially on the ground, gets up on her feet and slowly drags herself over to the bad guy, aims her pistol at the bad guy, says some words and then shoots without crying, killing the man instantly.
For me, this is an inversion of the traditional concept of the woman as a nurturing, warm figure. Here, zerowoman is completely cold and culculating and ruthless.
There was another great sexy scene at the end of "Zero-woman, red-handcuffs" where zerowoman, after dispatching the bad man with her famous red handcuffs goes back to take care of the kidnapped woman that the bad man (now dead) had kidnapped. The woman had been drugged heavily and was in danger of dying unless Zero woman or anyone helped her. Zero woman pulled the woman to her feet and started to slap her on the face repeatedly and rather ruthlessly.. Then, she dunks her in a water trough to revive her from the drugs. The slapping was supposed to help her too. The woman, a sweet woman, comes around and starts to cry. Then, zero woman takes her in her arms and shows her compassion side. Rocking her gently from side to side in her arm embrace. Great scene. The next scene, Zero woman alternates to her cruel nasty and vindictive side when she kills a corrupt cop who had just tried unsuccessfully to kill her while her back was turned. He dies a horrible, disgusting death at the receiving end of Zero woman's red handcuffs which she can use with perfect efficiency.
I can just imagine myself in the role of this pretty, sweet woman who is revived by Zero woman. I would have love to have been there. and for Zero woman to place her arms around me and rock me from side to side. Heck, I'm only a man but, surely, I too am deserving of love? Let Zero woman be the judge of that.
Paul Carr
|
|
|
0
Comments
|
|
|
Confessions.
|
Mar 2, 2006 4:48 pm
86 Views
|
(copied from msn spaces)
Anyway, my plan is to write to this msn spaces blog once every two days at least. I will write to my blogger/blogsource/alt/passion/adultfriendfinder blog once every other two days. I hope that's clear. The blogger/blogsource/alt/passion/adultfriendfinder blogs contain sexually explicit entries which I don't want to write here because, for one thing, I don't think msn spaces allow such entries. So, I'll stay clear of trouble there. That's not to say I won't try to shake the boat a little from time to time. Ideally, yes,I would like to write the same posts to all my blogs simultaneously but nah, I can't. I've got to make do with this situation. Besides, I know quite a lot now, I think, about the workings of msn spaces so why not continue to keep it. I've written to officialdom in msn spaces too and one of their representatives got back to me and told me that my space was vaulable to them.
Definitely, I am quite a timid guy. It's only just dawning on me just how useful blogs are. They're no gimmick. They are a serious tool of communication with the rest of the world. With a blog, I have the confidence to build up a network of friends around the planet. I can explore my fantasies, fears, prejudices and so on and in the process learn so much more about myself. Isn't that why we're all doing it?
In any case, I will now write a confession. My uncle on my mother's side. My mother's brother committed suicide in 1989. I think it was 1989. It's nothing to be ashamed of. He was 40 at the time. I think he was 40 at the time.. My information is that he threw himself over a bridge in London and he couldn't swim so he drowned. It seems to me that, well, the genes on my mother's side of the family aren't nearly as robush at the genes on my father's side of the family. I'm not blaming my mother's brother for that. Not at all. But, I'm not going to spin this fact out of existence either. It's a fact and we have to face facts in life.
My dad's family have, on the whole, had good mental and physical strength. Above average, I would say. My uncle, Michael, is over 80 now and is still taking walks every day. He's in good health. A little doddery physically but still here.. I last checked on him at the end of December. He was in good shape. I must check on him again soon.
But, my father wasn't perfect either. He had a problem with violence. He used to hit me when I was growing up, as a teenager for instance. I didn't deserve that. I remember beingat the receiving end of his beatings and trying to reason with him. The more I tried to reason with him, the more he hit me. I looked inito his eyes and what did I see? I saw despair. I don't want to be violence to anyone. This is one mistake I don't want every to make. I don't want to lose my temper. I don't want to lose my cool. I don't want to feel despair in the same way my father felt it when he was hitting me (for no reason). Okay, maybe, I did say some cantankerous and provocative things. I can't remember now what they were. But, hell, I reckon most teenagers (like 90% of them) can be cranky and a little nutty sometimes given the release of hormones during those years. My father was wrong, wrong, wrong for what he did.
But, I will say he was a good man. He had a problem with violence yes. But, he wasn't an evil man. He was unemployed. I think this took away some of his self-esteem. In the 1980s, there was a lot of unemployment in Ireland. Some of the most incompetent politicians are to be found in Ireland, both north and south. It is even so today but it was especially the case in the 1970s and 1980s. Our politicians were incompetent and out-of-touch with ordinary people on the ground. In the 1970s, the motto during election campaigns was spend, spend,spend, especially after we joined the European Economic Community which made yet more money available to farmers and such.. We spent money but we didn't earn it. So, Ireland ran up a huge debt. When, finally,in the early 1980s, the Government faced up to the reality that spending had to be reduced it was done so (gradually) at the cost of rocking unemployment. My father was one of those victims.
In the 1980s, we had two incompetent idiots in charge in Ireland. One was Charlie Haughey and the other was Garrett Fitzgerald. Famously, Garrett Fitzgerald used to accuse Charlie Haughey of being of "flawed pedigree". Presumably, he meant that, unlike holy Garrett Fitzgerald, Haughey's blood ancesters weren't at the front line (at the top of leadership) in steering independent Ireland in the early days or gaining independence. Mr Fitzgerald's remarks were also aimed at people such as myself, ordinary Joe and Jane Blogs on the streets who also didn't get involved in the heated politics of early 1900s Ireland. Most of our ancestors would have voted patiently for John Redmond's Home Rule party and would have rejected the violence and blood sacrifice of Pearse, as well, frankly, psychotic.
Anyway, back to my dad.
My aunt, my dad's older sister by about 5 or 6 years. I remember a dinner when I was about 15 (I can't remember the occasion). My aunt diabolically made the statement at this dinner that my dad wouldn't hurt a fly and didn't know anything about violence. Yeah, she would say that. And her remark infuriated me. But, at the time, I said nothing. What could I say? Of course, in my aunt's eyes, my father wouldn't hurt a fly because when my aunt was growing up in the 1930s, all she could remember was my sweet little dad as a sweet little boy who did everything she told him to. The reality is that my father used to hit my mother. He was wrong to do so. Being unemployed was no excuse to do so. My sister told me, after my dad died in 1991, that he used to hit her too, which surprised me. My brother, I don't know about.
The key point is that, well, I don't ever ever want to experience the despair in my eyes, as I saw in my dad's eyes when he was hitting me like an animal one day when I was about 13. I don't want ever ever to be violent. Ever!! I'd rather be a sexual virgin than hit anyone.
Hmm, another thing I want to talk about. Well, when I was 18/19, I went off to college. Yeah, I had problems. During my teen years, I was hopelessly shy. After school, I would walk home and retire to my bed room. Sometimes, play with myself. not talk to anyone. I didn't even have the confidence to go to the local post office to buy a stamp. I was 14 at the time and my dad tried to cajole me to go to the local post office by myself to buy a stamp and I couldn't. I was afraid they would laugh at me there.
At 19,my mother sent for a local doctor to talk with me. My father died when I was 17. I was a complete recluse at 19. I think I had already dropped out of college at that stage. After seeing this guy a few times, I felt compelled to go back to him one day, one weekend, to confess to him that my father was a violent man.
He would have none of it. He replied "Your father liked me and I liked him. He was a good man". In hindsight, I think he was saying to me that, well, this is not a problem, pretend this didn't happen. But, it did happen. And, I must face up to it. And, I am not a failure for confessing to it. At the time, I felt, and I feel now, that at that time, I could find no one, not a soul, who would listen to me and help me, and offer me help.
Anyway, I have written enough about this now. I will now sign off.
Paul Carr
|
|
|
0
Comments
|
|
|
Sexual Fantasies - Update to post of February 26th.
|
Mar 1, 2006 5:59 pm
213 Views
|
(copied from blogger)
I wanted to make a few extra comments to my remarks of February 26th. First of all, I wanted to add that my parents belong emphatically to a different generation to me. Especially, my dad. Who was 40 when I was born.
So, anyway, anything else. Ah yes, sex. Right!!
When my mind is idle. I think idle thoughts. I ought not to be ashamed of these thoughts. They are an intregral part of me.
Sexual fantasies come into play. I've written of one already recently. Oh, yeah, I remember something I wanted to write about. It's been 3 days since my last post to blogger and my other blogs. Sorry about that. Lazy. I'll try for every 2 days instead.
In any case, I must confess to only having 3 or 4 orgasms in February. That's it.
The last one was about 3 or 4 days ago. It was a strange one. But, then again, sexual fantasies which accompany ejaculation are always going to be strange. I was thinking about it afterwards.
At the time, it seems that I was being carried by this gorgeous woman, a gorgeous naked woman to whom I was attached by a belt, a thick belt. She was flying through the air. Her arms spread out like a bird. She was flying. I was being carried. Pretty orgasmic.
After I had awoken, I thought to myself, hmm, maybe, it wasn't as it appeared. Maybe, rather, it was me who was flying and I was carrying her with the belt. Anyway, these dominant/submissive roles (whilst very sexually exciting to me (I feel sure to most people)) can be confusing to me sometimes.
Another sexual fantasy I have is of "Miss McGonagle". I make up this name. Let me first explain the background to this sexual fantasy. I used to work in a law office as a security guard about 6 years ago. One day, I was on duty and this older woman comes in. She's wearing these high high heels, black high heel boots. I mean they're high. Very tight. Very nice. Black skirt and so on. She's about 50. I don't know her.
But, afterwards, my imagination went into overdrive. I was thinking of a scenario where she is going up to the law office of a young hot-shot lawyer. He's protecting her brother, a criminal overlord in the underworld. And, well, Miss McGonagle, is there to check on this hot shot lawyer to make sure he is behaving himself and that he would be presenting a good case for her brother the following day so that he is acquitted of all the charges presented to him by the court relating to murder, tax embezzlement and so forth.
Miss McGonagle has high black heel boots, tight grey trousers, thick black belt,
and a tight floral blouse. She wears this black trenchcoat to thoroughly cover her whilst she makes her way up to the young hotshot lawyer. We'll call him Brendan.
Anyways, she knocks at the door. She enters. Then, she takes off her overcoat. Saying something like "It's cold in here" et cetera. She has huge boobs. Huge!! Great round bulbous things constrained by the floral top with the frilly cuffs. She's got lots of make-up on. Her lips are crimson red.
"I'm checking on my brother's case".. Oh, Brendan says. Brendan is uncomfortable. He's a wiz kid to be sure but not deep on life experience. Only 27. Social skills and grace are not his forte. LOL.
He's awkward, preferring to relate to anyone in terms of his job or their job. He wants to be businesslike and formal.
Mrs McGonagle is a well-built lady. Shapely yes. Wide hips.
She takes a seat at the desk beside Brendan. She trusts her breasts out. Her sitting posture is upright. "I want to make sure you're doing a proper job". "My brother is innocent". "Yes, Mrs McGonagle", Brendan replies, "Everything is in hand!".
Well, poor Brendan has to be a little distracted at this stage, to say the least, at her magnificent shapely curves. Miss McGonagle gets up and purveys the room. "You have a very nice office", she says. She proceeds to the coat hanger and puts her coat on again as if getting ready to depart.
"Ah, please Miss McGonagle, everything is in hand. Would you care for a drink and I can discuss the details of the case further with you."
At this point, with her back turned to Brendan, she takes off her coat again, replaces it on the coat hanger and then spins around with hands authoritatively placed on her hips and says, "I am beautiful.". "Oh, yes, Miss McGonagle you are beautiful", Brendan mutters stutteringly. "I know", she says. "Your heart is beating very fast and your cock is becoming stiff". "Brendan, I can read minds. I have this power. Because I am a woman and you are only a man. I can read your mind, Brendan". "Every little thoughts in your brain I can read".
Well, indeed, Miss McGonagle was reading Brendan's mind perfectly and the rest of him too. "yes...ye, yess" he stuttered and gulped. Miss McGonagle took a superheroine pose, her legs slightly apart, her hands on her hips.
She then spreadeagled herself very quickly and then righted herself which made pretty damn sure that Brendan cock's was standing stiffly and achingly to attention.
"Come here, Brendan", she said softly. He did as he was told. She took him in her arms and kissed him delicately on the lips. She then undid her thick leather black belt at the front, extended it and then tightened it around Brendan's torso too. "What does it feel like to have a woman's body so close to yours". Their crotches were rubbing. A moment's delicious silence. Brendan breathed contentedly. "You're my big baby!!", she continued. "I'm going to mama you, I'm going to mother you." she coed. "But, first I'm going to carry you because I am so so strong!", she said. She spread her legs and lefted him. Keeping their crotches in close contact, she bent her knees and straightened up again. "Aren't I strong, you big baby. I am strong" she said. "Show me you are happy!!". "Show me now, baby, Show mama". She let out some groans to reflect the strain of lifting Brendan.
Brendan was well past the point of no return at this stage and he came to orgasm in his pants. Miss McGonagle kept Brendan's face close to her cheek. "That's okay... I'll look after you. Good boy!". Brendan was panting. She then carried Brendan back to his desk and sat astride him on his chair. He enjoyed the warmth of her body. She placed his hands on her breasts to massage them...
Paul Carr
|
|
|
0
Comments
|
|
|
Sexual Chivalry
|
Feb 26, 2006 5:00 pm
231 Views
|
Sexual Chivalry. (copied from blogger)
Anyways, I try to discipline myself to write at least every 2 days to these blogs discussing sex. Heck, sex is as good as subject as anything else to talk about. I reckon the more civilized a country is, the more openly sexuality is discussed and the more tolerant a society becomes to so-called "deviant" forms of sexuality such as homosexuality and so on.
But, as usual, I begin with the refrain that it is oh so difficult to discuss this. Sex is not something I am used to discussing. In part, it's because I am a virgin. I have never had sexual intercourse. I'll go into the reasons for this later.
What makes it even more difficult is the prospect that I will be getting comments. I welcome comments but, in the past, 2 months, I have had one or two bad comments. To those who post disapproving comments, I have two responses. 1) I will read your comment and then I will delete it. If the particular blog service allows it, I will also permanently bar your name.
2) Generally speaking, those who disapprove proffer arguments along the linses of "It's perverted". If by "perverted", you mean, I explore gender role-reversal when revealing my sexual fantasies et cetera, then, brace yourself, because it's going to get even more perverted as time goes by.
Let me talk about my past. I'm nearly 32 years old. When I was a kid/teenager, I had a problem. I didn't have peers like normal kids do. I kept to myself. I kept myself in my room after returning home from school. Had I mixed with kids my own age, I would have understood more what their priorities were and, for young adolescent males, one thing is for sure, sex is near the top of the list, as well as discussion on girls, stratagems for "pulling a girl", "pick-up lines", that sort of thing. I missed all of that. I missed all that chat and subsequent practice.
To make matters worse, I associated with older people, namely my parents and their friends. Now, I'm not saying that all older people aren't interested in sex like younger people are. Not at all. But, I do politely suggest that older people tend to sublimate their sexual drives, take on board another set of priorities to do with looking after their spouses and children. That sort of thing. In short, my priorities were becoming a little f**ked up. Perhaps, becoming a tad obsessed with chivalry.
Also, related to this, I developed a colossal ego. I was the one. Heck, even the female species was below me. Sex drive, sublimate it, young knight in armour, think about high and mightier things. Yes, ego. A biggggg problem!!
Engaging in actual sex, for me, is an act in modesty. Imagining sex as some sort of perfect, quasi-religious thing, well, you'll probably wind up getting none at all. I know all about that!
Anyway, that's enough for tonight.
Paul Carr
To those of you who leave comments, thank you. Please bear in mind, on adultfriendfinder and alt.com, I have free membership only and therefore cannot view profiles (I think) unless you yourself have a blog which I can view.
|
|
|
0
Comments
|
|
|
Deadly Serious
|
Feb 24, 2006 5:52 pm
185 Views
|
(copied from blogger)
Deadly Serious!!
Just to write I am deadly serious about this blog. I'm not doing this for fun. I'm doing this because I know that I am susceptible to depression and idleness. I am going to be extremely serious when writing this blog to the point of comedy and laughter. This sex blog is the equivalent of dead pan wit.
I must start exercising again. Particularly, jogging. I think I should go for a jog this morning. It's 1:19 now. I find that when I go jogging or any kind of exercise then my sex drive goes up. For example, at the turn of January, start of February, I went jogging 4 times. Each time for miles. Fairly rigorously and well, as I recall, I copulated on both the nights of the 1st and 2nd of February. Since then, I can't think of any wet dream I have had.
And the month is nearly over!!
Yup, exercise, as a bare bloody minmum, get back in shape, Paul Carr!!
Even, if only for writing sexually explicit entries in this blog, being aerobically fit will be conducive to experiencing erotic and aroused feelings which I can then write down and record in this blog. Yeah, as I have said, this blog ought to be a serious affair.
Sexual Fantasy
******************************************8
One particular, sexual fantasy, I have had knocking about in my head for an eternity. I'm an 18 innocent boy, embarking on his new life in a new university, away from his parents, and well, he moves into a B & B and has a gorgeous landlady.
Well, she seems to have some distance with her husband. Well, I'm a sexual predator in the making. Very curious about sex and sexual exploration. What 18 year old isn't?
Anyho, she's making the dinner one day. And, she, basically, orders me to take off my underwear and sit at the dinner table. She's wearing figure hugging tight latex trousers, high heel boots, delicious blouse with her breasts trust out like exocet missiles about to be launched.
She's even put on crimson red make-up. She has a stern appearance, not prone to breaking into a smile. Anyway, everything is pretty innocent to start with. We are seated at the table. She's opposite me. I'm staring involuntarily at her boobs though and she senses that I am becoming aroused.
She gets up, rounds the table, places the palm of her hand on my cheek, then takes me by the hand and leads me over to this stool, maybe 4 feet tall. I sit on it. She takes a yogurt and spoon from the table and sits astride me. She feeds me. She takes her time. I put my arms around her. Then, I placed my hands on her breasts and give them a good fondle.
We break into a fairely mundance conversation at this point. She asks me about my day at college. What was happening. She's cross-examining me. She wants to know all the details. Who I met? What I was thinking of? et cetera. I answer as honestly as I can.
Well, I'm as hard as a rocket at this stage. She instructs me to let her know about 10 seconds or so before I cum. "I don't want a mess on the carpet" she says. Anyway, she raised her slim frame off my crotch and turns around and lowers her magnificent bottom onto my crotch instead and rocks from side to side, trusting her bottom up and down. Anyway, this sets the ball in motion so-to-speak towards orgasm.
I'm going to come, I gasp "in a bit". She turns around. Undoes my zipper. Pulls my member out. She reveals her crotch and slides my member inside. "Good" she says. I grope her breasts again. Those beautiful mounds of flesh still bulbously contained with the sparkling blouse. I come hard then, 8 times in total. "Thank you" I say. She holds me in her arms. I hold my arms around her.
Well, at this point, she whispers to me she's taking me to bed. I've had a tiring day. . She raises me up carrying me by the bottom. We still joined. I was a fairly light fellow as a younger man. She groans as I am, nonetheless, quite a heavy load, carrying me up to the bedroom.
*******************************************************
I need a jog.
Paul Carr
|
|
|
0
Comments
|
|
To link to this blog (doodoo1974) use [blog doodoo1974] in your messages.
|
|
|
| Sun |
Mon |
Tue |
Wed |
Thu |
Fri |
Sat |
| |
|
|
|
|
|
11
|
2
|
3
|
4
|
5
|
6
|
7
|
8
|
9
|
10
|
11
|
12
|
13
|
14
|
15
|
16
|
17
|
18
|
19
|
20
|
21
|
22
|
23
|
24
|
25
|
26
|
27
|
28
|
29
|
30
|
31
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
