Threesome Memoirs – His Story

Threesome Memoirs: Table of Contents

mrandmrssmithIn blogging with Venice over the last two years I have noticed that most readers enjoy Venice’s perspective on our sex life rather than my own.  I assume this is because as men, we’ve always been very open about what we like during sex, or aren’t usually the ones with the boundaries in the bedroom.  

Here’s an example of a man’s sex blog, “Things I like in the bedroom:  EVERYTHING.”  One blog post, one word, and  retired. 

However, it seems we should be better at blogging since we’ve been doing it long before there was an Internet, we just did it in locker rooms and at any other random place we could get someone to actually listen to us talk.  In fact, if you want a man’s perspective on his sex life, simply walk up to him while he is sitting in the park feeding some ducks, and ask, “Do you enjoy cumming in your wife’s ass hole or her vagina the most?”

It’s that easy.

However, for these Memoirs, Venice has asked me to share my thoughts as well.   For her, this is another blog project (see also:  Project: 31 Days of Cum Shots; Project: Asian Bush).

Originally, the idea of Venice being bisexual seemed surreal.  Does that make sense?  I knew she was turned on by lesbian scenes in porn, but she’d always tell me it was only because it wasn’t something she normally saw or thought about.   It wasn’t like we sat around all day watching porn or anything, but every now and then we would play a porn in the background while we were intimate and she seemed to orgasm very quickly depending on what type of porn was playing (lesbian or 2 women and a man).

I didn’t think much of it and she always seemed pretty irritated if I asked her if hooking up with another woman was something she ever wanted to try.  I assume, because I am a man (please see the beginning of this article), the fact I even suggested her hooking up with another women meant  I’d also be around that other woman too.  This immediately made her close down and get defensive.  She knew hooking up with a woman would probably turn me on just as much as it would her.  She also knew it was dangerous to bring another person inside our circle.  For those exact reasons, and because I didn’t want to hurt her feelings, I was always hesitant to mention her sexuality and I never pushed the issue.  In other words, I left it alone.

I think, talking to me about her wanting to be with another woman threatened her.  At that time, there is no way she would ever be okay with a threesome.  In fact, if I even said the word threesome, she may have filed for a divorce.  She was very protective and she always let me know that she loved me so much because I only had eyes for her.  I was proud she noticed, so I made it my mission to spend the first thirteen years of our marriage without even looking at another woman.  I was totally whipped.

Anyway, I believe Venice’s bisexuality came to fruition after we talked about possibly taking a vacation on a swingers’ cruise.  Why a swingers’ cruise?  Let me explain.  Around our vanilla friends, we felt like outsiders.  Not because we wanted to swing, but because we were extremely open about our sex lives.  Whether we would joke about what we did the night before, or openly kiss and make out in front of them, we felt like we didn’t belong.  In our minds, swingers were open minded.  Also, not all swingers swap, which is something we have both discussed in length, and neither of us want this.  Soft swinging was more of playing in front of other couples, which we did already anyway, while the wives possibly playing with each other.  If everyone got along and agreed, both couples could have sex in front of the other couple, without swapping.  Basically, exhibitionism or voyeurism, which again, Venice and I were very much into.   Also, we didn’t take many vacations and a cruise seemed fun as hell.

The idea of being totally open and being able to talk about sex freely felt good to us both.  In fact, the idea of going on this cruise also led Venice into talking about how I’d feel if she made out with another wife one night.  We both knew that we didn’t want to swap or anything, but Venice seemed very interested in the idea of possibly getting a bit tipsy and kissing a woman for the first time.

Although we never took that cruise, it was at this point that we both sat down and discussed our sexuality. She expressed to me that she would love to make out with another woman.  She didn’t want another guy involved, but would love to see what it was like to kiss a girl.  Obviously this excited me and I let her know how I felt.  During this conversation, Venice openly told me she felt bisexual.  Although I thought this meant she was lesbian, she let me know that she had no real interest in doing anything without me being with her.  As far as I knew, her fantasies consisted of nothing more than kissing and making out with another woman while I watched. 

It wasn’t just her sexuality changing, this talk also occurred around the same time Venice was going through other major changes.  She had just learned to deep throat me, she began asking for anal sex regularly and explained to me she enjoyed her orgasms more during anal sex, and we started a intimacy routine that what we now call, our circle. 

Thirteen years into our marriage, and our sex life was upside down.  Whether it was a mid marriage crisis or her sexual awakening, she had me totally interested in her every thought.  In fact, I suggested we start a blog so we could write about the different things we were feeling.  For whatever reason, we tend to communicate much better when we write letters.  A blog seemed to make a lot of sense.  Rather than talking to me about what she was currently feeling, she could talk to the world and I could sneak inside her mind and get to know her better. 

Our first blog went under the moniker “Mr. And Mrs. Smith.”  Although this wasn’t an original idea, we felt that Mr. and Mrs. Smith was our secret identity.  Two sex agents who shared their dirty thoughts with the world.  After about six months, the addition of a Twitter account, and learning we were 1 of 1000 Mr. and Mrs. Smiths, we decided to purchase a domain and take our blogging to another level.  Our new last name would be Bloggs.   And what better name to talk about the Bloggs sex life than a domain called, “FuckBlogging.”   I guess this is the perfect time for me to mention the title of this blog:

His Story.

History.

Your mind’s blown right?  I didn’t think so.

The rest of our blogging journey can be followed by using our sites navigation interface.  The first month of our blog was the different stories we wrote as Mr. and Mrs. Smith.  Rather than dating them properly, we simply just took all that old content and posted them as soon as we opened this domain.

As far as us deciding to have a threesome goes, that story is still in the works.  From spending time on Twitter and writing articles on our blog, to sitting up late nights discussing some of the things we have written, our journey is just starting.

 

Sleeping Nude

A few years ago I asked my wife to promise me she will never lay in bed with me wearing clothes. I noticed throughout the years, we began to change our sleep schedules, change where we slept (sometimes I would sleep in different rooms just to be more comfortable), and never woke up in each others’ arms. If my wife was already in bed wearing some shorts and a tank top, I may walk past her and rub her butt, but most of the time I would take my clothes off, hop in bed with my briefs, and go to sleep. Do not get me wrong, we still had a great sex life, but sex and “bedtime” were on totally different schedules. Like I said, we would have sex, then an hour later both be sleeping in king size beds in separate rooms. I like the room completely dark, she likes to sleep with the television on. I like to have a nice side fan blowing on my body, she doesn’t like the cold air.  To most couples this would seem like a huge problem, but we were both complacent.

The truth is, it was a problem. I no longer saw my wife as someone I wanted to hold all night, touch all night, scoot close and curl my stomach around her butt while rubbing my penis against her thighs. I was turning into a colder man who was affectionate during sex, but mentally not there afterwards. A lot of it had to do with my wife shutting down as she appreciated me less. If I wanted to try something new and different, she would agree, but didn’t show any enthusiasm. The sex was never bad, but it lost the feeling of two people in love.

Back to a few years ago. My wife and I both hit a point where we knew we loved each other, but we both had the mutual feeling of boredom. The complacency wasn’t enough. The sex without enthusiasm wasn’t enough. The lack of attention she got from me wasn’t enough.  The lack of openness in the bedroom for me wasn’t enough. We decided, as a couple, to fix it.  Of course, we both had to see the problem to want to fix it.  Our catalyst was the idea that were were no longer lovers or best friends, just roommates.   It needed fixing and we both agreed.

In breaking down a few reasons I had slipped during the years, I knew I never wanted to grow up and sleep with my wife like I was on a camping trip (fully dressed and ready to run in case a bear breaks into the camper). As a kid, I felt that one day I would marry a woman and each night we would lay nude together, her on my chest, talking about our day. I let my wife know that I want her to be nude for me in bed. I want to wake up in the middle of the night and touch her body. I want to know that if I roll over and hug her, we will both be nude. For various reasons, this helped rekindle that spark we had for each other when we first moved in together. I wanted to touch her again, I wanted to hug her all throughout the night, I wanted to rub myself on her and let her feel my naked body against hers. It was sex, without intercourse. A new form of intimacy that even as a new couple we didn’t appreciate. I could hold my nude body against hers for the entire night, falling in love again.

For me, this nudity came very easy. I love being nude, I love showing my wife my body, and I love to feel the freedom of things hanging where they hang. My wife had a harder time with this, as sometimes she would lay in bed with panties and a shirt, sometimes just her panties. I’d come across the bed and feel down her tummy to her thighs and immediately ask why she was wearing panties. She’d look at me, smile, and say she forgot because she wasn’t used to doing it. That’s all it took for her to remove her clothing, but she had to reverse what she had conditioned herself to do for her entire life. For her, sleeping nude didn’t come natural. She felt safe with more clothing. I wanted her to feel safe with me.

After a few months, I noticed my wife would only wear a robe around the house after a shower.  She may put on a sun dress or something simple, but she would not put on a bra or panties. Before bed, she’d slip off her outfit and lay in bed, nude, no covers, letting me see her body. If she is on her stomach reading, I know she wants me to lick and massage her. If she is on her back, I know she is getting tired and wants me to touch and make out with her before bed. She no longer forgets, in fact, it’s just the opposite. At night I will go out with my wife and notice she will not be wearing panties under her dresses. For whatever reason, she has taken a liking to her new freedom, and I enjoy knowing she is breaking out of her shell.  I want her to enjoy her body as much as I do, and how can I not give her attention knowing my wife is a hand slide away from me feeling her vagina or ass? I love it. I love being around her, I love talking to her, I love hearing what she has to say, because I feel close to her again. I feel like she wants me close to her. She wants me to touch her wherever I can.  She wants me to fuck her, whenever and wherever I can.  I feel like the effort she puts into letting me know she wants me turned on and near her, makes me try throughout the day to show her, I want to be near her. I want to live up to her appreciation. It’s more than just nudity, it’s the call of the wild. It helped  save our marriage, it helped our sex life, and it freed us from complacency.

-This article was originally written on November 4, 2012.   It was published September 30, 2013.

Alyssa Milano Releases A Sex Tape — Almost

alyssamilanoWhat were my first thoughts when I read: Alyssa Milano  Releases a Sex Tape?  

I thought, oh god, not her, not my my precious  Samantha Micelli.  Not my save a buck or two Eva Savelot.  Wasn’t Pathology or Poison Ivy already sex tape enough?  Plus she is so damn nice on twitter, I was beginning to Fear the worse. I bet she’d even retweet me if I asked nicely enough!  She is such a Charmer.

I will admit, I did grow up with her on Who’s The Boss.  Yes, we grew up together in more ways than one.  My childhood’s Deadly Sins. It was either Wendy Cooper from Wonder Years, Punky Brewster, Laura Ingalls from Little House on The Prairie, or Samantha Micelli from Who’s The Boss.  I won’t mention Saved By The Bell because even I threw myself for a loop with that one.  Oh Lisa Turtle, you chocolate princess, I don’t care if Screech would have fought me to keep you from me, you gave me my first taste of jungle fever.   Sex tape, rated r movie, or even a soft core after midnight Cinemax movie like Hugo Pool, our attention is yours… which was Alyssa Milano’s plan to begin with.  She pulls us in like the Embrace of the Vampire.

Oh Alyssa, if your annoying boyfriend laying in bed with rose petals surrounding him wasn’t enough, you just had to lean over and show us those glorious Eva Savelot breasts that have helped me numerous times save a friend a buck or two dialing 1-800-collect.  However, before I could get too comfortable and enjoy Alyssa’s Utopia Below, her huge foot accidentally knocks the camera into The Outer Limits so all we see is the evening news regarding Syria.   Honestly, I don’t know if this Celebrity Hoax Tape upsets the loyal Who’s The Boss fan base  more than it will upset them when they realize that instead of recording their hot and steamy session of throwing their covers around while sounding like a laboring farm animal,  they instead recorded that boring ass news broadcast.

If there was a hidden message in this video, I’d say it was Alyssa Milano isn’t showing what she has shown many times before.  One thing I do know, she didn’t do PETA any favors, because after hearing the audio of what it was supposed to sound like to have sex with her, I seriously want to eat an entire cow while it’s mooing in my ear.

I’m a little bit torn because I am unsure of whether I should put this in Sex News or Off Topic sections?  Alyssa, what would you prefer?  Tweet me sweetie.  @sexblogging

Punishment For Being a Bad Husband

my husbands punishmentUnfortunately after a long day of work I feel asleep. I didn’t just fall asleep, I went into a deep slumber where everything seemed unimportant and my body totally shut down. The problem was, I had promised Venice we would go shopping for some new lingerie. I woke up a few hours later and tried to apologize to Venice.   Her cold stare said it all. She didn’t talk, she didn’t slam cabinets, she just looked at me with disappointment and walked away. I felt horrible, but at the same time I feel I couldn’t help being tired.

Although I had just gotten up, it was already late and I hadn’t showered.  I walked out of the room, took a shower, and got ready for bed again. As I was finishing, Venice walked in the room and said she was tired. She then looked at me and said, “If you want to spend time together, we need to do it now.” I could tell she was disappointed and wanted nothing other than for me to leave her alone. Although we’ve made a commitment to be intimate with each other each night before bed, tonight felt wrong.

I didn’t make eye contact because I knew she was disappointed and told her we didn’t have to spend intimacy time together tonight.  If both of us aren’t happy, it isn’t intimacy.   I laid next to her in bed and rolled over.  As I laid there I could hear the disappointment in her breathing.  I felt a bit of tussling and her moving around on the other side of bed.  I didn’t really want to turn over because I knew she was upset so I just laid there.  Suddenly, I felt her grab my hair as hard as she could.  It pulled my head back so fast it almost snapped my body over.  She squeezed my head with her hand and shoved my face down between her legs.  I was sentenced to the next hour between her legs doing whatever she demanded of my tongue and face.  As she held my face inside her vagina she would tell me how disappointed she was.  She also let me know that after she came all over my face she was going to roll me over and sit on me.   As she felt me get more excited, she added, “I am not going to sit on you with my pussy or ride you asshole, I am going to sit my sweaty ass on your mouth and you are going to stick your tongue in me as far as you can until I feel cleaned.”   She then asked, “Do you deserve to fuck me tonight?”

I responded with, “No,” and continued to circle her clit with my tongue.  I slid a finger in her ass and she immediately let go of my head and grabbed both of her titties and started to squeeze.   As she moaned, she said aloud that tonight I was going to jack myself off and she was going to feed me my own semen.

I began sucking on her clit and pussy lips hard and replied, “I didn’t want to eat my own sperm, it’s only yours.”   I didn’t mind having to jack myself off, but I’d rather not cum if Venice didn’t want it.  However, Venice didn’t care what I wanted or didn’t want.

As she came she screamed and arched her back up in the air.  She snagged my head and slammed it deep inside her pussy.  My mouth  sucked on her hole as my tongue probed her inner walls.  My finger was still inside the rim of her ass and I could feel each spasm of her orgasm.  Her pussy squeezed on my tongue, and her hands clawed at the back of my head.  I looked up and watched her large breasts vibrate as she moaned, nipples fully erect.   I slowly took my other hand and started crawling it up to her breasts, as her nipple rings mesmerized me and drew me closer.   As I got my hand halfway around her breast, she quickly let go of my head and grabbed my wrist with both hands.  She snagged my arm and threw me over to the side of the bed.  I yelled, surprised she still had the energy to control me in such a way.  She sat up, reached down and grabbed my face and moved her mouth closer to my ear, “You are going to jack off your pathetic hard dick and let me watch it drip with cum.  Do you understand me?”

Although she was grabbing my face so my lips could barely move, I tried to respond back with, “Yes….”

She immediately stopped me from talking by shoving her hand inside my mouth and locking my jaw open.   “You’re going to cum in my hands and I am going to feed you.   You’ve been a bad husband and this is your punishment.”

I nodded and she let go of my mouth and positioned her body backwards on top of my face, so her asshole was directly over my mouth and she could watch me stroke my dick.   I grabbed my hard cock with both hands and stroked, making sure she could watch my balls bounce against my thighs with each pull.   She grinded her sweaty ass against my face and demanded I stick my tongue inside her dirty hole as deep as it could go.  I could taste her insides.  She noticed my nuts slamming against my legs and said, “Let those nasty little balls pay for being a bad boy.  Stroke that long dick harder.  I want to see it leak.  I want to see your fucking cock spill out all over us.  You’ve been a bad fucking boy….”

I squeezed my dick as hard as I could with both hands, rubbing it up and down until I felt my balls ache.  I wanted to feel the warmness of Venice’s mouth, her ass, her pussy, or even just the soft touch of her hands, but she refused.  Her ass cheeks muffle the sounds I hear, but what I do make out, Venice is letting me know she won’t touch dick no matter what.  I’ve been bad.  I feel bad, I feel humiliated, I feel the cold air on the top of my dick, my head still exposed so Venice can watch my cum squirt out.  I pull harder and can feel the explosion building.  I stick my tongue so deep inside her ass I can feel the different textures of her inner anus.  I try to scream but she squats down over me and drops her entire weight on my face.  My yell is muffled and my dick explodes.  I can feel the hot sperm landing on my arms, my stomach, my chest, and leaking down my own shaft.  Venice sits up and I can hear her slurping my cum off her hands.  She moans as she tastes me.  I can tell she wants it all, as her favorite part of our sex is being able to taste all of me.  However, tonight I am being punished.   She controls her urges and searches my body for more cum to scrape off so she can finish her punishment.  As she finds random drops all over me, she force feeds me my own cum.  After shoving her cum soaked fingers in my mouth, she pulls them out and licks everything that didn’t slide down my throat.

Now, Venice is sleeping and I am up at 2 AM because I slept all afternoon.

Dirty / Used Panties Vending Machines in Japan – A Closer Look

used panties
Spotted in Tokyo in 2012 – “Used”

Originally I did what I always do when I want to see if something is true: I used Snopes.  Snopes claims that Japan having used panties vending machines is absolutely true.  This confirmation has been backed up by numerous visitors and tourists, military personnel stationed in Japan, and various photos that have popped up online over the years.  However, you’d be hard pressed to find a Japanophile that likes to talk about this subject as most of them get quickly annoyed and laugh off the idea as an urban legend and  ignorance of the Japanese culture.

What’s interesting for me is, selling used or dirty panties is not just a Japanese trend, it’s a world wide fetish.   I personally have never bought a pair of used panties, but when Venice  and I were apart during our college years, I loved receiving care packages from her.  Whether it be homemade cookies, candy, cute mementos, sexy photos, or yes, even a ziplocked bag of her worn panties for me to smell her naughty scents, I loved it.  I have also heard many stories of soldiers overseas being sent used panties from their girlfriends or wives, so the idea of used panties being a turn on shouldn’t surprise anyone.  I suppose the difference is, buying used panties from a vending machine that supposedly was worn by a random young school girl is just embarrassing.  Which I admit, it is.  Which is why selling them in vending machines makes that much more sense.

Continue Reading Dirty / Used Panties Vending Machines in Japan – A Closer Look