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4 Why's: I Love My Man's Body Hair

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A humid summer rainstorm was passing through, and there was a lull. We had just finished our hike, and after stopping to enjoy an ice cream at a busy local ice cream stand, were now in my Mazda, parked under a grove of maple and oak trees to enjoy a bit more time together before we each left to go home. He pushed the driver's side door open to let a much-welcomed breeze in and stripped the sweat covered blue microfiber hooded sunshirt he wore off, tugged the button to take his seat all the way back, sighed a contented sigh, closed his eyes and stretched his long tanned and toned arms over his head behind him to rest on the headrest.  His bare torso looked so good that  I couldn't resist running my fingers through his white chest hair and down to the darkened strip of softer brown-red hair that landed just above his belly button, circling the sensitive skin a few times before going back up. Continuing my oval-shaped pattern over the front of him, I whispered in admiration just ...
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Is Car Sex Worth It?

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As I was packing up the back of my White Mazda after the previous night of play with my lover R, and putting the sheets in their bag, a curious question popped up in my head.  Is car sex worth it? And I smiled because, for me - and while I cannot speak for my lover, although I'm sure he'd 100% agree - for me, car sex is worth it - 10x and more.  It's portable.  Convenient at any given spur of the moment.  It's sexy.  And playful.  Most importantly, it connects me with my lover in a way that the bedroom does not.  We meet at a local Panera or Dunkin.   I hand my key over to him, and he takes it from there as far as destination goes; somewhere where there are hiking trails and most often a gorgeous sunset.  My part's easy - I break out the car sex supplies from the large Rubbermaid container that I keep in the back of my car.  Sheets, coconut oil, baby wipes, great music, food, sometimes black nylons, and the mood. The closeness of our bod...
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I'd Like You to Watch Me

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I smile as I take my rose-pink wand and anal ease from my drawer, wrap them in a towel, and put them in my overnight bag. All week I've been into masterbating anally and couldn't wait to share it with my lover man R.  We were kissing, me lying cozily curled up into the nook of his arm, his warm body cuddling me as though we've been together for many years—in fact, it's been about four—yet the way our bodies fit together is really amazing—he feels right.  Our kissing led to some naughty, dirty talk.  He said some things, I said some things.  My tank top came off.  And my undies.  I'll be right back. I say to leave to go pee.  While in the bathroom, I think of him in the bed waiting for me, him and his hard cock. I think of what I want, and I know.  Walking back to the bedroom, a small smile starts, and I open the door to see him looking over at me.  I'd like you to watch me. I say, slowly making my way over to my nightstand.  Taking my pi...
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