The long and the short of it.

Yesterday was for me a rare Saturday alone. It’s usually “Our Day,” the one, weekly, designated day that my husband and I put everything else on hold and spend all our waking hours together, brunching, chatting, seeing films, napping, talking, making out and anything else that we want to do. We’ve considered it a sacred part of our relationship since we began shaping it back in late 1991.

You may have noticed a missing item on the “Our Day” menu: Sex. We haven’t had sex for quite a while. It’s definitely a concern for both of us, although we continue to adore each other and cohabitate with rare ease for any couple. We both miss our naked boner-time and we’re working on it… but that’s not what this entry’s about. It’s about my solo day.

He took the dog with him so I didn’t even have to deal with letting Jake out or playing tug-of-war. It was just me in the empty house and nothing planned. As you might guess, I recognized an opportunity…

Marty is my go-to bate buddy. He’s truly got all the features I love in a bator. He’s a furry cub with a light, easy attitude and he really values masturbation, loves his penis and understands edging. I’ve had lots of amazing sessions with him and while a penis might go occasionally into a mouth or hole, we’re both very aligned on spending the great majority of our time together stroking our own and each other’s penis. We always ejaculate together and that always happens with hands on penises.

I texted Marty early and it was a little while before he replied and we set it up. It was determined that I would go to the gym and check that off my list before heading over to his place. Without asking, I didn’t shower after my workout, just cleaned a few key areas before gearing up for the gym. I was going to have some scent on me when I arrived and if he preferred me freshly showered, I could take care of that there.

It was moments after I arrived that we were touching each other, easily rubbing bulging crotches and feeling rigid dicks. There was no hurry. There’s never a hurry when I’m with Marty.

We chatted, stroked ourselves and each other, gradually undressed and alternated touching and sucking each other, simply being with the fact of our easy connection and arousal. His penis responded without hesitation to my fingers, hands, mouth and mine was similarly engaged. 

Over the next two hours, we stimulated each other and repeatedly edged skillfully and naturally. There was no question that we were going to just ride the curve of the edge with an occasional crest, and put off full ejaculation until we felt like wrapping our lazy afternoon up.

Over two hours after I arrived, I chose to cum and we rode up the ramp together, locked together in a pretzel of presence, fully able to take in each other’s penis, scrotum, assholes, faces, breath and the totality of energy that is sex. We rode up and over the crest and I shot hard all over his penis, stomach, thighs and one foot. He followed me only a moment later, ejaculating his seed all over himself to mingle with mine, moaning and breathing together.

We lay still, relaxing into the oxytocin fog, both dozing off briefly before rousing and standing up from the couch to lazily wipe up the coconut oil and cum. Happy apes after beautiful, bonding sex. We looked at each other and smiled, appreciating our unique friendship and hugged warmly and long before dressing and parting ways.

This basically is our relationship. We are passionate bator buddies. We speak easily about whatever we like, there is seemingly no romantic interpretation of our affection or desire for it. We just fit well around this intense, human experience.

I go home, smelling of the gym and coconut and pheromones, and ready myself for an evening out with my husband, who I am to meet up with briefly later. I go in the back door, strip and turn on the shower, glancing behind me at the image of my naked body reflected in the big mirror… and I pause. 

Here is my 59 year-old flesh. Here is the over-generous waist, the aging skin, the still-swollen shoulder and arm muscles. Here is my somehow still shapely butt. Running my hands down my ass cheeks and thighs, I marvel at the silky smoothness of the naturally hairless expanse, remembering that while I am most turned on by the sensation of body hair, this is my own body and it is good too. I think, “This is me,” and I’m alive and still loving my life and I am so fucking grateful for all the sexual joy in it. It’s wonderful and I want to cry from the gratitude.

Instead, I twist my body a little and look at the reflection of my resting penis. It is small and spent and beautiful. I reach down with my left hand and cradle my penis and balls in the cup of palm and fingers, just feeling the weight and warmth of the gift between my legs. It starts to swell and I watch as it thickens a little and extends itself forward.

Licking my palm, I wet my penis and begin masturbating it, smiling at the delicious pleasure growing again with my full erection. It has been a long time since I was ready so soon after an orgasm and taking a big breath, I stroke myself with full abandon and just feel my body spring back to life.

The shower continues running and I have no goal here. I’m just pausing to love myself with my hands, running one hand over my pecs and stomach as the other masturbates the happy penis. I feel so good and I’m barely thinking of anything but my body responding and breathing into that moment and in minutes, with no edging or hurry, I am ejaculating a massive, spraying gush of semen into the air and onto the floor and my stomach. Slowing my cadence, I continue stroking up and down the full length of my penis and tight scrotum, sperm and saliva mingling and slick on my skin. 

For the second time today, I clean up my cummy body, step into the shower and prepare for the evening. This is the sex I have today. It is mine and it is nothing short of glorious.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *