my careless contagion

Unless you've been living under a rock, you've heard the dirty, little pop song that is Sports Car. Funny thing about the video is nary a sports car is to be found. In its place is a whole lot of innuendo, costume changes, and well, Tate McRae. Nothing to complain about there.  But I do like sports cars and believe the absence of one is an oversight. And don't talk to me about Mustangs or Camaros; those aren't sports cars. Those are muscle cars. Can't tell the difference? You will if you throw a muscle car into a corner like you would a sports car. A lot of people made that mistake and paid for it with their lives. I knew a few, rest their souls. Muscle cars are about straight-line acceleration. Those who dare mix copious amounts of horsepower and poor handling will pay the price.  May I suggest the Nissan GT-R ? AKA Godzilla. I mean, it literally spits fire. Sure, it's an oldie now, but it's a goodie. And looks good in every color. Over-engineered, yes, and...

It was such a long day without you. You were at a thing with friends until evening. I had an appointment, so I couldn’t go with. I missed you more than usual. I trace your steps around the house, touch your clothes, tap my finger on your perfume, lay on your side of the bed, squeeze your pillow. All to no avail. I can’t conjure you. You’re all around me, but you’re not here.  I look at my phone. I missed a notification. You’re on your way! You’ve been sitting all day, you say, so would I like a walk? Would I like a walk? With my beautiful lady? Yes, a walk, and everything else.  I hear you at the door, but if I bound to you like a golden retriever, I will lose my cool. I wait half a minute, look up, and you’ve found me. An urgent look is on your face. I smile. Goodness, woman, you look good. I like it when you get dressed up. Tonight is no different. We look mismatched because I’m dressed in shorts and a t-shirt. Now we are out the door.  The sky looks ominous, but w...

You’d think the ache of wanting you would have subsided after last night. I woke while you were making breakfast. Delicious smells found their way to the bedroom, where I propped myself up with pillows and sighed a happy sigh. Last night was the best sex I ever had, and the way you curled into my arms afterward put me right to sleep.  Sunday means a lazy morning: breakfast and church. Afternoons often mean bbq, naps, and cuddling on the couch. You made a fantastic breakfast. With a full stomach, I dressed quickly for church and smiled in the mirror next to you. You leaned your head on my shoulder and made a pouty face. I knew you wanted to stay home and fuck again, but you know how I am about church.  When we got to church, you looked hard at me in the car before we got out. I knew that look. I battled my hands the entire service because all I wanted was to touch you. I envisioned ripping your dress off, pulling your underwear to the side, and ravenously destroying you in t...

You wake. Something isn’t right. Your hands are above your head. You try to move them to your side so you can turn over, but they are immobile. Your eyes are open, but the room is dark. No, something is tied over them. You can feel it knotted on the back of your head. Your hands are tied to the headboard. Your legs are free. And that’s when you feel my hands on you. You moan as my hands caress your breasts and make their way to your thighs. I part your legs. You’re naked except for the ties. You feel my soft mouth and rough whiskers on your stomach. You moan again in anticipation.  And my fingers enter you when my mouth meets your pussy. All at once I am on you, my tongue hot and curiously tasting you, while my fingers test you for readiness. I can feel you spasm and tighten, relax and release, over again. I bring you to the brink of climax. Your body tenses in frustration, your muscles hard. I can see the tension in your forehead. You are red, almost angry. Your skin glistens in ...

My, my. You know I love it when you wear stockings. They accentuate your thighs. I want to squeeze your thighs. Just looking at them has me salivating and sucking my teeth. I can’t help myself. We become a torrid, passionate mess for the next half hour, when you … how could you?  You came before I said you could. Now you know what happens. You look at me with pleading eyes. That is, when you can bring yourself to look at me. You look down or over, but averting your eyes cannot avert my punishment. You know what’s coming. Well, besides me.  If I let you get away with it once, you will do it again. I see you cringe. Last time, you were sore for days. I think you liked it because here we are again. The tension is high, so I laugh to break the spell. You smile, perhaps thinking you averted punishment. You did not. I pull you off the bed and push you down the hallway to the back of the couch.  You are naked before me, except for those stockings. How they stayed on the las...

The sun, the sand, the salt spray. We got up early with not much in our heads but a morning on the beach. A quick breakfast (which you didn’t eat) and a change of clothes (I bit my knuckle when I saw you in your bikini) and we were out the door. The first thing I noticed that morning was you seemed a little distracted, like something was on your mind. I asked if you were worried about anything and you turned from your window to me, answering with a ready smile and shake of your head.  Sometimes I have to pinch myself when I wake up next to you. Am I still dreaming? You lay next to me all night, yet I can’t believe you belong to me. I say those words to you often, but I’m not sure how it’s possible. My beautiful wife. I admire you so much, even with morning breath and hair askew. I don’t want anyone else. But something is off today.  After we arrive at the beach and spread out, I go into the water and discover a few shells, which is my favorite thing to do there besides watc...

There was a kind of electricity in the air as we bought our tickets to see the movie. It wasn’t just the prospect of being entertained. We had other things on our minds as we sat down, a large drink between us. Your hands kept finding their way to my arm or shoulder, and my hands touched your back and thighs like I would never see you again. There was something about the way you kept looking at me that was driving me nuts. I knew it was just a matter of time.  The previews couldn’t hold our interest, and when the movie started, we realized no one was sitting near us. The film went on, but we only partook blindly and in fits and spurts, our touching and caressing causing us to blush. We never had trouble showing affection. But we also never carried on like this in public. This was new. What were we doing? My right hand was on the inside of your left thigh, impatient and burning with the thoughts I was sending to it, but it remained immobile. Then, a moody scene in the movie plunged ...