It does not get any better than being me right now.

I found out where I'll be getting stationed once I leave Korea, and on top of that I seem to have found my edge again. You know what I mean... that unstoppable, never-say-die, fuck-the-world attitude that only comes when everything in life is going your way. Nothing and nobody bothers you... yeah, it's a good feeling...

Today was a good day. I had some fun with my digital camera before work, and my lady friend is back at home so I'll be going to see her this weekend.

My friend flaked on me AGAIN last night. Granted, she is my best friend, but if she weren't local (as in right in my own building) I wouldn't be wasting my time trying to screw her. Oh well.

I probably shouldn't sound so unempathetic; after all, she is pregnant and I know the toll that takes on the human body. You may want to sometimes, but you just can't do it.

But, now that real life has somewhat stopped being such a twatnugget, I may start paying more attention to this site. I have requests from three people, plus some others that I've found that need my attention. In other words, it's gonna be a busy weekend.

Last night, my best friend came up to my room. She's fresh off a break-up with her fiancee' (but unfortunately, she's still pregnant with his kid). So, I did what any male best friend would have done: let her fall into my waiting bed.

I've always wanted to fuck a pregnant chick, but I ended up realizing one of the drawbacks to it: women apparently don't like to fuck when a living being is kicking them in the stomach.

From the inside.

We had to stop, but she promised she'd make it up to me...

I know I haven't been paying much attention to my blog lately, but I am in the midst of some very big personal projects, not to mention all the stress I'm under as I prepare to take over my workshop... just give me some time to get all this stuff accomplished, and I'll be back on a regular basis in no time!

There were other incidents that occurred while I was on leave that bear repeating. Here's one of them:

About two weeks into my stay, Cheryl called me at my mom's house. Apparently, in all our conversations, she had never mentioned that Theresa had joined the Air Force herself. She had flown into Dover Air Force Base for three weeks of leave, but neither herself nor Cheryl were expecting any difficulties in picking her up from the airfield. See, without a military ID, Cheryl couldn't get onto the base, nor could any taxi drivers to get Theresa off. Needless to say, I was more than willing to lend a hand and I drove up to Dover and picked Theresa up.

This vacation was turning out to be one big surprise. I had never been too attracted to Theresa while I was in school, but damn, had she gotten hot! I guessed that if the Army's physical training regiment had done what it had for me, similar results could have been expected for her as well on the Air Force side. (Little did I know the joke that Air Force physical conditioning is, but that's another story.) She had put some meat on her bones, and although I tried not to gauge too hard, she had definitely gone up a cup size, at the very least. She almost didn't recognize me (why do so many people have that problem, I wonder?) but when she did, her eyes almost popped out of her head and through her glasses. "Michael? Is that you?"

"The one and only." We shared a quick hug and I helped her out to my car and drove her to the front gate. As mother and daughter reunited I excused myself to go back to my mother's house, but Cheryl stopped me: "Can I ask you a favor? I couldn't get off work tonight, so would you mind staying home with Theresa? I'm sure she doesn't want to be at home alone..."

"Well--"

"I'll make it worth your while." She used that sexy, seductive voice that people use when they're trying to get something out of you. The bad part about it is I couldn't refuse, no matter how uncomfortable I might have felt with sleeping with a woman while her child was in the house, especially when that child was older than me. I drove Theresa home while Cheryl went into Dover to work for the night. It was only 6 o'clock, and neither of us had eaten, so we stopped at a small eatery on the way to Newark to grab a bite. We didn't do a whole lot of talking on the road or in the restaurant, so our arrival had a slightly strange air hanging over it.

If silence is strange, then what happened next was outright bizarre. I brought Theresa's bags into the living room and put them in the closet, and when I turned around Theresa was face to face with me in just a bra and panties! As much as I would have liked to ask her why, she was kind enough to answer that question for me by planting her lips on mine and stripping me of my clothing as best as I would allow her without damaging anything. Something about this seemed wrong, but my already hard cock betrayed any moral conjecture I might have normally had.

"So? You been with a lot of military chicks?" she mouthed between heated, sloppy kisses. I responded that I hadn't; I've learned that if somebody asks you if they're your first at something, it makes them feel, I don't know… special, I guess. In this case I was right. She was determined to show me what I had been missing; what an airman had that a civilian didn't. Whether there was anything special that set her apart from any other woman I'd been with I was more than willing to find out.

She ran her hands across my chest, lightly raking her nails across my skin. Being the control freak that I am, I hated that; that was the one thing that revved my engine like nothing else. I clutched her ass (not a light grab, but a forceful grip) and pulled her into me. She parted her thighs just enough to allow my cock to come to rest against her slit before closing them tight. I could feel her getting wetter by the second, and it felt like her snatch was actually trying to suck my cock into it. There was no wasted motion with this girl, as she pushed me onto my back on the kitchen table, pulled up a chair between my legs, and made a meal out of my cock, which by then had grown to its full erect length. I don't know who was enjoying this blow job more, me or her.

"Damn, where did you learn how to do that?" With another woman, I wouldn't have had the gall to blurt that out, but Theresa just didn't strike me as a very sexually active person. She took it in stride, though, mouthing out a barely discernible, "What, you mean this?" as she put her lips on my balls. Now I'm not the biggest guy on the planet (I might be working with 8 inches, give or take; all I know is I've never gotten any complaints) but never, and I mean never, had a female deep throat me. She felt so good that I didn't want her to stop, but I had to, even if just for a moment; just long enough to take her place in the chair while she continued her sucking under the table.

"Cheryl? You can come out now, I've got something for you," I called out. In my experience, no female makes as much noise with a dick in her mouth as Theresa was making, which meant that there was something she didn't want me to hear. On top of that, every time I tried to sit up, Theresa pushed me back down, obviously to keep me from seeing something. Sure enough, Cheryl emerged from behind the couch, wearing nothing except a more-than-surprised look on her face. "How did you-"

"Shhhhh, just come and sit over here." She did as I instructed, sitting on the edge of the table in front of me. I pushed her back down onto the table top as I had been lying moments before, spreading her legs to reveal her pussy, which glistened with just a hint of moistness. The smell of arousal gave her away, however, and I could tell she had been masturbating. It seemed kind of perverse, a mother pleasuring herself while her daughter sucked off her lover. Then again, how many people can say they boned a mother and daughter at the same time?

Perversion is good.

I ate Cheryl's snatch inside out and back again while Theresa continued to suck my rod under the table. There was no romance in the air; only sheer, raw, animalistic sexuality. I was now at the point where no amount of oral sex in the world (giving or receiving) would have given me the quality of orgasm I was looking for. The dilemma lay not in what I wanted, but in whom I wanted it from; that's the problem with threesomes: somebody's not getting the attention they want. Fortunately, Cheryl saved me from having to make that decision: "Let's go into the bedroom; I want to watch you while you fuck my baby girl's tight little pussy."

Problem addressed, problem solved.

The three of us went and climbed into Cheryl's king-size bed. Even after all this time, Theresa still had her bra and panties on, so I did the gentlemanly thing and helped her out of them before helping myself to her. As wet as she was, it was still first time tight, so I entered her as gently as I could, and even that wasn't enough to keep her from trying to crawl the walls. Once I was in, however, Theresa's cunt felt like it had been custom-made, just for me. We stayed in positions where Cheryl could see how well I was fucking Theresa. In truth, that was the only reason why I was having sex with Theresa: she was very attractive and extremely desirable, but the object of my lusts and affections was her mother, and there wasn't anything I could do about it.

Eventually both ladies were satisfied and Theresa went to her room and went to bed, leaving Cheryl and I in her bed.

"So… did you enjoy the show?" I asked her.

She rubbed lightly between her legs, and then waved her fingers under my nose. The smell of her sex was simply overwhelming, and I could wait no longer. Like an animal in wait I pounced, pinning Cheryl's shoulders to the bed and her feet up by her ears. Since my two hands were full with Cheryl's ankles, she was gracious enough to place my tip against her eager slit. I drove every inch of cock I had (and even a couple I didn't) straight down into Cheryl's hot snatch. The entire time I had been with Theresa I hadn't come once, saving it all for this specific moment. Almost immediately I shot what felt like a pint of cum into Cheryl's pussy, but by no means was I finished. I fucked Cheryl for what seemed like hours into an orgasmic frenzy, until she closed up on me in one long, perpetual climax. I felt another orgasm of my own building up, but I was determined to hold off on this one. My efforts took me to another world, it felt like: when you're in a state of orgasm, but no fluids are flowing. I stayed in my own little world for another eternity until my visa finally expired, and I unloaded every drop of semen I had stored in my body into the willing lady below me.

I crash-landed back on Earth, breathing heavy, cross-eyed and hearing impaired for a good few moments. When everything finally did return to normal, Cheryl was laying next to me. "Can I ask you something?"

The five words I most hate hearing out of anyone's mouth; doubly if it's a woman, and triply if it's a woman I've just finished having sex with. "Sure, go ahead," was my terse reply, as I would have bet money on what she wanted to ask me.

"Why didn't you like Theresa?" Blackjack, player wins.

"It's not that I didn't like Theresa; it's just that I've been looking forward to being with you all day. I've wanted you all damn day, and as much as I liked her, I just wanted to be with you. To be honest, I had hoped that when we came to the bedroom, it would be just the two of us."

Cheryl was clearly moved. "Really? Well then, why didn't you say anything when I asked you to fuck her?"

"For you."

"Me?"

"I'm into pleasing, that's what I do, and it wasn't that unreasonable a request. If it made you happy, that's good enough for me."

"Wow… nobody's ever cared about me like that before, not even my ex-husband."

"Well, I'm unlike anybody you've ever met before."

As Cheryl pulled the covers over us and we said our good-nights, she replied, "More than you know, Michael, more than you know."

THE END

Back when I was in high school, I held quite a few jobs. One of my most enjoyable was babysitting this kid who lived across the way from me. His name was Brandon, and when I first started watching him he was eight or nine. He had three older siblings, the youngest of whom, Theresa, was only a year ahead of me in school. Sometimes I'd spend entire Saturdays over at their house, whether I was working or not. I shouldn't even call it work, even though I was getting paid. I looked at Brandon as the younger brother I never had. I started watching Brandon in my sophomore year of school, and did so up until I graduated and left for the military, after which we lost contact.

OK, enough background, let me get to the actual focus of this story. While I enjoyed spending as much time as I could with Brandon, actually being around my employer was certainly a nice fringe benefit. Brandon's mother, Cheryl, was the first older woman that I'd ever been attracted to. She was a few years older than my mom, had beautiful brown skin, large, luscious breasts and an ass to die for. She was career-driven woman and a single parent, and a great one at that.

It's now been six years, four promotions, nine tattoos, a tour each in both Afghanistan and Iraq, and a bullet wound since I first left home to join the Army, and man, had things in my hometown changed. Most of the people I went to high school with were either dead, in jail, married, divorced, had kids, or any or all of the above. It seemed like the ones who had succeeded had done so outside the state of Delaware. I can't say I don't sympathize, having done the same thing myself.

I was at home for the first time in almost three years on a 60-day convalescent leave after being shot in combat. (I wasn't really injured badly enough to need the convalescent leave, but I had to either take the leave days before the beginning of the next fiscal year, or lose them. So I pulled some strings, called in some favors, and was out of theater within two weeks.) I knew Cheryl and Brandon had moved upstate since I had left home, but I was still hoping to hear from them. Surprisingly enough I did, only a week into my vacation. We immediately made plans to see each other and, since having my own vehicle made me the more flexible party, I drove up to Newark to visit them Friday afternoon at their new place.

Man, was I surprised when I got there. Brandon was seventeen and in his last year of high school. He had grown almost as tall as me, and was actually bigger than I was. Cheryl, meanwhile, hadn't changed a bit; although she was now 46 years old, she was still as attractive and sexy as I remembered her. We sat and ate dinner, with the focus mostly being on my "war stories." After a while, Brandon's dad came to get him, presumably to spend the weekend together. At that point I got my stuff ready to leave, when Cheryl invited me to lunch the next day, "as adults." I had no idea what "as adults" meant, but I did know that it involved just the two of us. I didn't even care though my mom lived a good hour and change south of Cheryl's house; I'd have driven all the way to Philadelphia if it meant a chance to see her one-on-one.

I arrived at Cheryl's place the next day around 3. She had just finished cooking, and whatever it was smelled delicious. We ate and talked for nearly three hours, a lot of which was telling the complete (read: graphic) accounts of the same war stories I'd told the night before. It didn't matter though; as long as I was talking to Cheryl, it didn't matter about what. Until, that is, we moved over to the couch, and the "as adults" part came into play:

"So tell me Michael, what's your love life like?"

I almost choked, she caught me so off guard. I had never expected her to be this direct. "Well, since I've been in the desert, it's been a while, but when I'm on home station, well, it's steady."

"Steady as in one steady person? She must be a lucky lady."

I couldn't help but laugh. "No, I mean steady as in a steady supply of lucky ladies. I tried the committed, monogamous relationship thing once, and I'm in no hurry to try it again." There was a look on her face, of what I couldn't tell; of shock that I was being so open with her, of relief that I was single, or what. "Well? Your turn." I pushed the envelope.

"My what?"

"What's your love life like?"

"My what?"

"OK... that certainly answered that question." In truth I didn't need to ask that; the only times I had ever baby-sat for her, I had always seen her with a briefcase in hand. "I had long surmised you didn't date much, although I had occasionally fantasized you being a lesbian. But that's neither here nor there." The shock value of my comment hit home, as her jaw hit the floor and I doubled over with laughter. "Being in the Army has certainly put an edge on you, Mike."

"To say the least, Miss Cheryl, to say the least."

"Oh come on now, like I said, we're both adults here. You can drop the 'Miss.'" I was glad. Cheryl sounded a lot sexier, and having sex with someone I called 'Miss' didn't quite excite me as much.

It was one thing when I thought the above thought; it was another thing altogether when she said it, with the notable exception being the substitution of a certain four letter word as opposed to 'having sex with.' I had waited all day to hear those words, yet I was sure I hadn't heard right.

"Michael, I remember you as a scared, skinny little freshman when you first moved here. But I always knew you would grow into a handsome young man and that once you did..." She literally threw herself on top of me after those words. Her lips tasted like the stairway to heaven itself. I managed to get an arm free enough to take my glasses off and set them on the coffee table. We kissed like two teenagers, before she got up and racing to the bedroom, shedding clothing as she went. Not to be outdone, I left my own attire in the living room and followed her. She was on her back with her knees raised, hiding her pussy from my direct sight.

People wonder where the term "muff diving" comes from should have seen me when I moved to the foot of her bed. She had her legs spread, her pussy staring me right in the face. So I did what any reasonably thinking person would do (not to say that I was capable of any thought, reasonable or otherwise at the time): I dove face-first into her muff (get it? muff diving?) and licked and sucked with reckless abandon. I soon found myself face to face with the biggest clit I had ever seen, and it was just begging to be sucked. Or maybe the begging was coming from its owner, not that it mattered. I sucked that clit like there was no tomorrow, causing Cheryl to moan, first loudly, then even louder, until she bit down on her lip and started quivering. I knew what that meant, so I put my mouth over her lips and waited patiently. I wasn't disappointed; she began leaking the thick, white nectar that I've come to expect from thick black women. I greedily lapped it all up before coaxing some more out with my tongue.

Cheryl was exhausted; having an earthquake of a climax after going for so long without one will do that to you, I guess. I was at least gentleman enough to ask her if she wanted to rest a few minutes.

"Rest? Boy, are you gonna give me that dick or am I gonna have to come get it?" was her exact response.

Hey, ask a stupid question, get a stupid answer.

She handed me a tube of lubricant, which I applied sparsely to her cuntlips. People talk about first impressions; I certainly made sure to impress my cock into her pussy as far in as it would allow me. It took some work just to keep Cheryl from crawling up the wall, but I managed to get inside with losing any skin. Man, that was the tightest, wettest, hottest coochie I had ever been in, and what made it sweeter, was that some seventeen years ago, a kid that I used to baby-sit popped out of that same coochie. We wrapped our arms around each other and Cheryl looked me dead in the eyes. I'd almost forgotten how beautiful her eyes were; two emeralds set in her angelic face. She asked me to be gentle, since it had been a while.

I couldn't resist. "How long is a while?"

She cocked her eyes at me. "Don't worry about it; just be happy you're getting it now."

I stabbed her with my dick, causing her to let out a slight yelp. "Tell me," I said, half-joking.

"You're serious?"

"Yeah. I need to know if I should be 'months-gentle' or 'years-gentle.'"

"If you insist, the last time I had sex, I ended up pregnant. You figure it out from there." I remember Cheryl had had a daughter pass away recently; she was six at the time, and she had died two years ago. I did the math and came up with, "Wow...fuh-king-wow."

"So you get the picture now?"

I had. I made slow, sweet love to her, nuzzling her neck, nibbling her ears, and a bunch of other romantic crap I used mostly as foreplay to get a woman naked in the first place. She was really getting off on it, though, so I just kept it up, slowly moving my hips as her pussy got increasingly wetter around my dick. The first time I actually took a long stroke, she clenched her legs around my waist, threw her head back, and let out that noise that people sometimes make. You know the one I'm talking about: the inaudible one, when something just feels so damn good that the sound to define it simply doesn't exist. If you haven't heard that one, well...

But back to Cheryl. I was supporting myself on my hands and knees, and she clung to my torso much like a koala hangs down from a tree branch. We shared another kiss and she lowered her shoulders back down to the bed, keeping her hands laced behind my head. I cupped her ass in my hands and pulled her toward my pelvis, pushing my manhood deeper into her vagina with each stroke. I got into a rhythm that almost felt like I was using her to jerk myself off (if anyone can comprehend that feeling). I could feel Cheryl's pussy collapsing and expanding as she succumbed to countless orgasms. After she had cummed herself asleep, I laid her back on the bed, covered her up, and went to the kitchen to get a drink.

I opened the refrigerator and pulled out a soda; when I closed the door, I was more than a little surprised to find Cheryl behind it. "We are not finished yet...well, at least I'm not." She pushed me into the living room and back onto the coffee table. She mounted me and simply engulfed my pecker with her well warmed-up cunt. All I could think of was what jackass had let this little minx get away. Cheryl was now acting like she had once been this foxy lady who oozed with sensuality, but something had pushed that side of her personality into the background and only now was it pushing back to the forefront.

Cheryl rode my dick like no other woman I've ever known, either before her or since. "How long are you on leave for?" she gasped between bounces.

"Seven more weeks."

"Oh my god... that means forty-nine days of having this wonderful dick in my tight little chocolate pussy..." She came as her own words spilled over her lips, which I took as a cue to kick my own censors to the curb.

"Oh, you like my fat cock, huh?"

"Oh god yes, Michael, I love having your fat cock in my pussy."

"Ohhh, yeah, I love making your pussy wet with my tongue, and then sliding my huge rod in you."

"Mmm, I love when you eat my little snatch and make me come all over your face."

"And you're gonna do the same for me, right?"

"Oh, you know it baby, I'm gonna be your little sex slave."

There's not too many 'wrong' things a woman can say to me; she can tell me she's married, pregnant, gay, whatever. 'Sex slave,' though, were the two words that just didn't mix, because I have, can, and will take it to some pretty wild extremes. "Oh really? You gonna be my little fucktoy?"

"Oh yes, all yours, and no one else's."

"I like the sound of that, so let's see what kind of a slut you are." I bent her over the back of the couch and lightly brushed my tip against her slit. "You want this again, huh?"

"Oh yeah Michael, give me that dick, I'm on fire for it!"

"You telling me what to do... hmm, that just won't do." I could tell Cheryl was willing to sell her left nipple if it left a hole for me to fuck her in. "From now on, you are to call me Master. When I call, you come, and when I order, you do. Is that clear, slut?"

"Yes, Master," were the only words out of her mouth.

"Then take my cock in your hand." She silently obeyed, taking my member into her right hand and holding it barely away from her slit. I expected her to back her snatch up onto it, but she didn't. I guess she'd been a sub in the past as well. Not that it mattered; here and now, she was mine. I stepped forward and effortlessly parted her lips and placed Cheryl's hand back on the couch. "Are you ready to be fucked, slut?"

"Yes, Master."

I began to move slowly in and out of her. I felt her orgasm building up. "Are you going to come, slave?" I asked her.

"No Master, not without your permission."

It was almost no fun; it was like moving into a pre-decorated house. Half the fun is conditioning it the way you want it. I didn't care though; I didn't want a slave anyway. What I wanted was a kind, caring individual who just happened to be a sultry cockhound behind closed doors. I brought her to orgasm one final time then said, "Are you ready for me to come in your pussy now?"

"Yes Master, I want to feel your hot sperm oozing out of me."

I swatted her smartly across the bottom and yanked her hair back. "You speak only when spoken to, do you understand?"

"Yes, Master."

"Good." I kissed her full on the mouth before pushing her head back down. I began to pump furiously at her hot little box, which was already overflowing with her own juices. "Fuck me Michael; make me your little hot-assed whore! This pussy is all yours, anytime, anywhere you fucking want it. Go-oooo-od-damn, you make my pussy feel so fucking good, I'm so full of cock, ohhh, shit I'm gonna cum again!" As I felt another tsunami of an orgasm hit her pussy, I had no choice. Try as I might to resist, I could not help but erupt, spewing my cum like a volcano until it overflowed Cheryl's helpless cunt!

As we showered together, Cheryl dropped some very valuable information on me: she was working night shift in Dover, which is only thirty minutes away from my mom's house. So for the next forty-nine days I went to her house every day, fucking her senseless while Brandon was at school. Then I'd meet her at work and fuck her there as well. One Saturday night I went out and met another woman; the next time I talked to Cheryl, she talked us both into having a threesome. Suffice it to say, all the gas money I spent driving up and down the state was paying dividends like never before.

Never mind the bullet wound it took to get me home in the first place!!!

I've been taking a break from posting until I find some way to get pictures from my digital camera to my PC, as the cable that came with it has already gone to hell. (Note to self: never use self-packed electronic components; buy another one at the same time you buy the product.) What I really wish I could do is find somebody to take some more pics of me, but that seems highly unlikely to happen. I can't even get a female to have sex with me, so what's the chance of getting one to take pictures of me...

Oh well...

In other news, my birthday is only 14 days away now! I'll be turning 24 on November 7th. That makes me a Cock under the Chinese zodiac and a Scorpio under the American zodiac. I've looked up both signs and I fit the description of both to a 'T' which, depending on how you look at it, could be a very dangerous combination!

I also have another story to post... please enjoy!

Imagine living life
With your eyes being bound,
Your ears sealed, your mouth gagged.
Yet all you knew in your heart
Was contentment and happiness.

Then imagine one day
You choose to break your bonds,
To see the beauty of the world,
To hear the sounds of the people,
To tell the world how you truly feel inside.

Your eyes find beauty, but your heart feels the pain it masks,
Your ears hear the people, but your heart uncovers their deceit,
And your mouth echoes its cries, only for them to fall upon deaf ears.
You replace the bonds, only to find they no longer fit.

Your mistake was your greed,
Dissatisfied with the calm in your own heart,
You chased a dream, yet in finding it
You damn yourself to an eternal nightmare.

Then, your nightmare ends.
A movement beside you stirs you from your slumber.
In the darkness you can see
The sleeping beauty that blinds you,
The mouth that utters those pristine words into your ears,
And the lips that find their home, only when kissing yours.

And your heart feels its mate, beating in rhythm.

Now tell me…

Do you still want to break your bonds?

Yesterday was our nineteen-month anniversary for my wife and I. I'll be the first to tell you: it ain't been that great a marriage so far. Our whole first year was spent in 91a school, where we didn't get to spend a whole lot of time together. Right after that (and 10 days before our first anniversary) I got sent to Korea for a year. It truly makes me wonder if I want to stay in the military beyond this enlistment, but for now all I'm looking at is getting through this tour with my marriage intact so we can spend the next year and a half together before decided on a set career path.