NSFW…This is an adult site, so adults only please.
The day started off normal, well not really normal since I had the day off. I decided I would lounge about in bed for a while. I’m easing into retirement soon, so not working as much. Not doing a damn thing today and decide to spend the morning in bed relaxing. Some grapefruit juice, a cup of coffee and some cock rings. What more do you need. I gathered my laptop, iPad, iPhone, and chose some accessories. The morning is spent visiting friends on Zoig, reading stories, perusing twitter and saving the best for last enjoying a photo a friend had sent me a few days ago. She had snapped a selfie right after she got out of her shower, and is gorgeous with a terrycloth towel wrapped around her hair turban style. She is striking a pin-up pose with a wicked smile on her face. Her smile is enough to cause an erection, not to mention her bare breasts. I’ve been lazily stroking my cock all morning so I’m near ready, the ball stretcher and cock rings are tight and I reach for some lube. I select a mentholated one and apply to the head of my penis. I’ve moved her photo from the messages on my iPad to the photos and it’s a nice view. In the photo, she is reaching down with her phone taking the selfie and it looks like she is reaching out to me, I begin to imagine she is pushing a butt plug into me as I am massaging my cock. Dammit, I didn’t think of a plug in my preparations. I snap a few photos so she can see the success her photo has had. I’m nearing the end, put down my cell and concentrate. The happy ending I’m craving arrives… absolute bliss, I am exhausted and happy. Off to take a shower.
I only had one thing that I had to do today… get a package in the mail so it would arrive before Christmas. Our post office on the Island closes at 3 o’clock, so that the U.S. postal truck can get on the Ferry to the mainland. So I had until three o’clock to get the box there or it wouldn’t be on that truck. They are very strict, so it wouldn’t go till Monday. I shave and notice that my cock is still swollen, the marks from the rings evident. I had asked my galpal how the weather there was because I had heard there was a blizzard heading her way and have just received a video text. She is standing on her porch panning the street, snow is falling, it it starting. As she films, she is narrating, and the sound of her voice is turning me on. My penis is becoming erect again as I listen and I relive seeing her in the shower just a bit ago. Damn! I know what’s going to happen so I shave and get ready to take a shower. I text her to thank her for the photo and the weather report and blame her for my current state. She texts back…
She’s all heart. I decide to return the favor and give her a show, so I set up a tripod in my bathroom in front of the shower with my iPhone. I step into the shower and begin to shampoo my hair, the hot water feels wonderful and I take my time soaping up.
She is right, the feeling of the lube and jizz is slick and I begin to stroke my stiffening penis. Oh God, it feels so good. I have an aerosol can of shaving cream on a shelf in the shower, and after starting my camera, and get serious about taking this shower. Massaging my cock and squeezing my balls with the silky cream produces another happy ending and I send her a photo, telling her if I got my phone wet it’s all her fault. She texts back… Well then DON’t get it wet!!! I WAS right!!!!! Of course she was right. I look at the clock and realize I’d better get a move on if I want to get my package wrapped, as I had some cards to send also. Turn on the noon news and slap on some sandalwood aftershave and look for something comfy to wear. I decide to heat up some tamales my neighbor gave me for lunch and then get going, but my laptop is handy so I check my email.
After my extended morning session, I began gathering gift wrap, tape, finding a box and where the hell did I put the gift? Oh great, I forgot where. I had purchased it some months ago with a number of other
toys useful personal items. I could have sent it direct, but she is special and I wanted to wrap it and enclose a card, plus I wanted to see the damn thing.
But, I lost focus and started to screw around on Twitter again. I’m glad I did, because I saw a Tweet from Marie Rebelle… I had forgot! Today is sign-up day to compete in the Smut Marathon. Now, you are probably asking “What the hell is a Smut Marathon?” To borrow from the official About...The Smut Marathon is another way to build the community. Writers entertain readers with their stories. Readers vote and try to get their favorite authors through to the next round. And even though it is a lot of work, I really love to see what the writers make of an assignment. Each participant gets the same assignment and no matter how many participants there are, no two stories are the same. That’s so exciting! And there’s more… Experience has learned that the Smut Marathon is a way to improve your writing, because the assignments tend to pull you out of your comfort zone, which help you to improve your writing or discover new things about your writing. Even experienced writers still manage to improve their writing by participating in the Smut Marathon. So, count me in, a bit scary, but I’m going to give it a try. You have until January 20th to sign up, but being the eager beaver (damn, I shouldn’t have said beaver I’m losing focus, stay strong) I wanted to be first in line. To join me in writing some smut, here’s where you go… SMUT MARATHON Oh great, I have to come up with a bio. I hate writing about myself, being so modest, it would be easy if I could just put a photo of my penis, but I struggle through it and come up with something. God, I hope it doesn’t sound stupid. I’m signed up.
But, back to my story. So I find the gift and now it’s after 2 o’clock. I get everything on the coffee table, but need her address. Back to my computer to find my contacts and decide to check my e-mails and then remember I needed to print a photo to send in a Christmas card a friend in Detroit. 2:30p.m. Damn, I’d better get going. Back to the front room, but I forget the scissors. Back to my office I’m about to touch my mouse, but I grab the scissors instead, wow a modicum of self-control (damn, why did I have to use modicum, stay strong). After a beautiful wrapping job I tape some tinsel on top and go to write the card. I’m using a really cool gold ink pen, which I got last Christmas, and the ink won’t come out. So I’m shaking it around and the ink starts coming out all over the card. I grab another card and tell her in gold ink how much I love and appreciate her. I’m going at warp speed and get the box packed with gift and tissue and then sealed. Shit, I forgot to get the postage. Now this is key, for trying to send a package at this post office takes forever and that’s on a normal day, not a Christmas Season Day, and I want to just run in and drop it off all set to go. I race to my computer and log into USPS Buy Some Stamps Inc, or whatever it is and race thru the steps. Luckily I have an account so it’s pretty simple and my printer is soon spitting out the postage paid label. Onto the box it goes and I start for the door. Oh wait, I’m not dressed. I’ve got some old sweats on and my comfy indoor shirt, so I slip into some shoes and a heavy coat and out the door, it will have to do. I’m not planning on interacting with anyone. Its 6 minutes to 3. I live on the edge of town (it’s a tiny town) and it won’t take long, but the post office is near the middle and high schools and the kids get out at 2:45. They are everywhere! And do you think they can cross the street all at once??? Ha! Oh, and it’s raining.
I get to the post office and it’s a mob scene, and there is no way I am driving into that lot, but luckily there is a parking space across the street in front of the bank. I pull in, jump out with my package and threading my way through the traffic head for the post office. Remember, I said I had some old sweatpants on? Well, the rope thing around the waist is long gone, and they’re fine for lounging around the house, they are not so great for running thru a parking lot in the rain and they begin slipping down off my waist. I have no underwear on. I’m frantically trying to pull them up and hold the waistband, and there is my hairdresser talking to her girlfriends right in front of the door. Fuck! I know them all, remember I said it was a tiny town. Somehow I get by them without being seen and squeeze past the people in line to put my box on the pile. It is three o’clock exactly. I make it back out and slide past the hot hairdresser and her hot friends to the safety of my car. Mission accomplished, I head back home to see if I have any new messages.
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