Why is the dog getting laid more than me.

I didn't write this I'm afraid....and I know nobody reads this but S and P.....but I wanted to put it on here to share. I dont' know who actually wrote it or I'd give him credit. I just wish I had written it.

Simply put it’s because animals don’t complicate sex with feelings. Animals don’t “go out for a drink or dinner or whatever”. Animals don’t have a “litany of reasons why they have not gotten out in a very long time”. Animals don’t say things like “Please be under 40, single, good looking, professional or at least well read, D/D free, and available Saturday night.” And animals don’t say “YOU HAVE TO SEND ME A PIC!” When an animal is hungry they eat. They don’t care much what they eat. Some dogs will eat themselves sick and will eat poisonous things too. When an animal is thirsty they drink. Again, not too much thought goes into satisfying this need. When an animal is in heat they mate. No talking, no dinner and a movie, no nice car, no nice shoes. They give off a pheromone scent and howl to let others know they’re ready. If you’re truly a good-looking woman, who’s busty, professional, with a big butt, and up for almost anything then the fault is yours alone. I’d do you, and most of my friends would do you too. But being a girl is so very hard. You want to get laid, but you complicate things with history and emotion. If you make him shower and make him wear a condom you have eliminated 95% of the threat to yourself. If you carry a gun or a serrated knife then you’ve cut the remaining threat 5% down to 2%. So there you are, 98% sure he’s safe enough to screw. And statistically speaking, most guys are clean and most guys are safe. Just like most guys’ just want to screw. We like women who like us. If you give it to us we’ll gratefully take it. So what’s stopping you? You’re a girl. You have to talk to him. Have to. Genetic compulsion. If you don’t talk to him then you’d be a guy. Guys don’t talk to the hamburger they eat. If you’re horny then screw. If you’re thirsty then drink. You have to know if he can form sentences like an English teacher, because if he can’t talk then he can’t screw. At least that’s what girls think. You have to know that he has a job, or is looking for a job. You have to know that he lives on his own or he’s had a bad setback and is only living at home recently and temporarily because if he’s not ambitious then he can’t screw. I mean how good could that steak dinner be if the cow was a mamma’s boy and a slacker and couldn’t conjugate Moos to save his life. If he was smart and sensitive, maybe he wouldn’t be on your plate in the first place. No I don’t work for PETA. No I’m not a vegetarian. My point is that women don’t want sex. Why is the dog getting laid more than you? Because the dog wants to get laid. Women don’t want to get laid. If they did, they would. Women want safety and security and comfort and dependability. Women want a shoulder to lean on, a chest to cry on, a lap to sit on, and someone to count on. Women want to cuddle and talk and share secrets. Women want to go out and be out and stay out. Women want to see a great show, have a great meal, and dance at a great club. Women like dressing up and being seen, but when they stay in women like foreplay. Sex is like dessert, but foreplay is the true meal, the reason you came, the entrée, and the most fulfilling part of the dinner. Women can orgasm standing in the supermarket checkout line. They don’t need men for orgasm. They have better toys then men do, trust me. Women don’t want sex. Women want to make a deep quality connection with someone who will listen and respect them until death they do part, except when Patrick Swayze haunted Demi Moore. Even death can’t keep them apart. How romantic is that? Speaking as a man, we’re more like dogs. We can be your best friends and we’re loyal to who feeds us best. We’re trainable, if you take the time to train us, but when it’s time to mate, then mate. Don’t have a headache, and don’t plan a special vacation to Vermont next month. Step up or step back and let some other woman try. I know this is wholly unattractive now, but why would I cheat if you were giving me sex when I wanted it? Everything can’t be blamed on women, but men don’t complicate sex with feelings. We just want to get laid. Just like dogs. Well, I gotta be back to work. I hope this was more educational than funny.

A wonderful time.

I had an awesome weekend.....Mistress S is supposed to be writing out the details. I can't wait to read them.

Finally, tomorrow, a day I have looked forward to for months, is almost here. Tomorrow, S and I will finally get to spend some time together, alone, all night. 70 miles from here is a hotel room waiting for us, with a king size bed and on the water. Tomorrow…at 8:00… I get to pick her up and then off we go. We get to do some exploring…of the country side and each other...and I finally have S all to myself…. if only for a little while. It will be wonderful.

And no...we aren't actually staying at the Holiday Inn Express. LOL

Welcome To My Brain

Guess What's On My Mind

Bonus Day

It was a bonus day. I had not planned on seeing her, but things just somehow worked out. We meet where we always do, and S told me that she wanted to pick up her friend, now our friend, G, and then we could do something together. Cool.

We picked up G, and then went to lunch. They ganged up on me, lots of barbs and comments, and I threw out a few stupid comments so that they would have some ammunition, and I had a blast. After we ate, we went back to G’s apartment, just to hang out…not plan or expectations. When we walked in, I didn’t wait, I didn’t fool around. I grabbed G by the hair, and forced her to her knees. I didn’t ask, I didn’t suggest, I didn’t’ even tell her what to do, I made her do it. She unbuckled my belt and took out my cock and took it in her mouth, and S sat in a chair with her sunglasses on and watched. I pointed at S and crooked my finger at her, and she got up and came to me, and I kissed her deeply and whispered in her ear that I love her. S began to unbutton my shirt and take if off m as G sucked my cock. Heaven.

The redirection of blood flow made me light headed, and I sat on the edge of the bed. S kissed me again, then she took my cock in her mouth…..sometimes I am soooo lucky.

Finally, as they kissed each other, I began to cum. G took me in her mouth again and I came and came, and she got every drop. She turned and kissed S, sharing it with her, and I heard S whisper “thank you.”

If we only had had more time.

Caught With My Pants Down

Bear Lake was beautiful. It was a little cold, and the wind was up, so we had the place to ourselves. Since its winter, the park service still has the gates closed, so we parked up near the road, and walked in. As we walked along the lake, S looked longingly at the Cattails along the edge, and I promised her I would get one for her. I was freezing, since, even though I told her to bring a jacket, all S had was a thin sweater. I couldn’t let her freeze, so I gave her my big thick Carhart to keep her warm.

The far side of the lake was so peaceful and quite. There is a beautiful picnic area, with tables and a pavilion. Off to the side is a playground for smaller children. We walked hand in hand along the edge of lake, telling each other stories about times we had spent there, her with M, me with my dog. S was beautiful there…the cold making her cheeks red and her nipples hard, and I decided that I didn’t want to wait…..I wanted to take her now….right now…hard and rough. I still held her hand, and led her up to the picnic area, and under the pavilion I found a nice, sturdy, clean picnic table.

I took my jacket off her, and laid it on the table, so that S would not have to lie on the boards. I pushed her back on the table, laying her down, and pulled her pants and thong down to her knees. This was not about romance, this was not about making love, this was about rough, animal sex. I dropped my jeans, and holding her legs up on my shoulder, I entered her. I took her hard….I took her long….. and I wish it could have gone on forever. It went on for so long, that I started looking longingly at the next table were I had set my Dr Pepper. I was sooooo thirsty, and it was just out of reach. But I wasn’t about to stop.

With S on the table, and me standing beside it, every thing was perfect. The only problem, with every thrust, I pushed her up the table an inch. S tried to hang on to the edge of the table, but it was rough, and she is just not strong enough to hold on. After every 7 or 8 strokes I would have to stop, and drag her back to the edge, then begin again. The sound of my belt buckle hitting the edge of the table with every thrust reminded me of Christmas bells….but of course, Christmas only comes once a year.

Finally, I admit it, I had to stop…my shoulder was giving out. Some old injuries never really heal, and this was one of them. I was nice, and put her pants and thong back on her, and then, we traded places. S took me in her mouth, and it was wonderful…I lay back on the table, and just enjoyed. Every time I tried to sit up, to see her or look around, S pushed me back. Finally, I came….I came like an explosion, like dynamite, and yeah, I was loud…very loud.

Then things got interesting.

I propped myself up on one elbow to look at S, and over her shoulder….in the playground, maybe 30 yards away, I saw 2 little kids with what looked like their grandmother. Grandpa was marching straight at us with a furious look on his face. Oh Fun!

I jumped up and began pulling on my pants, and whispered to S that someone was there. As I buckled up, the old man screams at my back “GET THE FUCK OUT OF HERE! THIS IN NOT A PORN SHOP!”

Two thoughts immediately pop into my head, and for once in my life, I leave them there. The first is “Nice language in front of the grandkids Pops!” The second was “What in the hell is a Porn Shop?” Since neither would truly help the situation, I left them unsaid. Too bad, both would have been funny as hell.

As S was pulling on her shoes (I had to pull those off during, because she was leaving a Nike pattern on my forehead) I stepped back to block his view of her. She pulled on her second shoe, and we started walking. As we left, the old man yelled “You are lucky I don’t arrest you right now!” I wanted to point out that I was twice his size, mean as hell…and fight dirty, but decided I should let him win this one. I didn’t say a word, never looked back, but I could hear his footsteps and he followed us a little way. When we got to the trees, I stopped so S could tie her shoes. We were both giggling so hard at that point, I am surprised she didn’t tie them to each other.

About half way back to the car, I stopped. S looked at me, saw the look on my face, and asked me what was wrong. I told her I had to go back; I had forgotten my Dr. Pepper. I thought she was going to hit me, and she told me “No fucking way! Buy another one.” Damn, it was still half full.

As we got to the parking lot, I saw the backside of the sign for the first time. It said:

Bear Lake
Thank you for coming.