Swimming in the Sea

Getting it

She is getting is as hard as he can give it. They both like this very much.

Chin Dribble

Marge Monday

Homer and Marge both attended Springfield High, where they met. Marge was an ambitious and popular student, serving as a photographer for the school paper, debate team member, and a French tutor. Homer was more interested in hanging out with his friend Barney, playing video games, going to the movies, and listening to music in his room until he met and fell in love with Marge.

Once Marge and Homer fall in love after a fateful Prom, they continued to date. However, both still living at home, they needed to find a little privacy for their budding relationship. One of their favorite places to go was the hill overlooking Springfield. On a warm summer evening, they'd pack a blanket and spread it out under the stars. 

First love. It's a beautiful thing.

Bedpost

A former girlfriend once told me that she used to masturbate with the help of her bed's footboard. She described the bedpost as a smooth wood, turned on a lathe, that had a tip shaped like sex toy. We doubted that the original designer had that in mind, but we couldn't help make the comparison. 

It did seem like a perfectly shaped sex toy. What I didn't realize is that when she used it as a sex toy on herself, she used it like a buttplug. Spreading her cheeks, she'd slowly lower herself down on it. Then, slowly, she'd ride it up and down like an erect cock, while rubbing her clit in front. She said the three rings made an intense sensation as she pushed down. If she could get all the way to the third, she'd taken her bed-friend deep.She said it was the most intense orgasms she could have, and no matter how hard she bucked, the bed was heavy enough to stay put. She said the wood was natural warm to the touch, and smooth, and hard. 

She said the bed wasn't exactly stylish, almost like something you'd find at a yard sale or Goodwill, and sometimes people wondered why she kept the bed and moved it to each new apartment, even when she had a good job. She just smiled and said that the bed fit her well.

Go Trojans!

Frank met his wife at USC. He wasn't a football player (electrical engineering) and she wan't a cheerleader (library science), but they had a lot of school spirit, and would go to the home games for dates. The cheer of the crowds, the thrill of rooting for the Trojans, was some of their favorite college memories. 

Now married with children, they still have a way to rekindle the spark and do a little roleplaying that puts them back at USC.

Neighbor's Pool

My memory of this is vague. I must have been pretty young, still. My parents had moved to the big city for my dad's work. They bought a small one-story, two-bedroom house in a tidy neighborhood development that had sprung up in the 60s. This was now the early 80s. I remember our house had wall-to-wall shag carpet, even in the bathroom. It had wood paneling in the kitchen. We had an ugly plaid couch. Directly across from our house was an almost identical house, but this one had a pool.  

The couple that lived their had a daughter, probably five years older than me. Five years is hardly an age gap as adults, but if you're ten, say, and your mom packs your lunch, and the girl next door is 15, and in high school, and has already french kissed.... To me, the next door neighbor, Marissa, was already an adult, fully developed, fully mature. She could list cool music she liked, and knew exactly which brands of clothes were becoming popular, and which ones were on their way out.

Growing up in that generation, especially for Marissa, meant absent parents. In fact, I can't even recall her parents' names. They were like Carl and Carol, and seemed to always be doing some activity, but never with their daughter. I don't know if they were swingers, or AA regulars, or were part of a bowling or softball league, or what. Basically, they "did their thing" and it left Marissa at home pretty much every afternoon after school, and weekends. Maybe my mom sensed that Marissa was alone and bored most of the time, so she hired her to baby sit me, every day after school when the bus would let me off two blocks from my house, until dinner time. 

I absolutely loved it. Marissa let me watch TV. She even let me stay up and watch Bandstand with her, and told me about new groups she liked. And I loved to swim. Since we didn't have a pool, I hardly needed an excuse to walk over to our neighbor's and let myself in the back gate. 

If I didn't have my suit, or didn't feel like running up to my house to fetch it, I'd just swim nude. It's funny now, because by today's standards, that might be some sort of scandal. But for the generation I'd grown up in, it was pretty much considered perfectly normal. My parents, although not classic "hippies" would still do fairly hippie things, like garden, and hike and camp. We'd go to hot springs and no one wore clothes. We'd do chores at home, and if it was hot, no one wore clothes. I just grew up with the site of my parent's bodies. It wasn't sexual; it was considered natural and normal. I learned the words breasts and penis without snickers or red-faced embarrassment. They were just body parts like elbows, knees, and belly buttons. 

Since we'd always gone skinny dipping in nature, it didn't seem unusual to swim in the pool nude, either.  Marissa didn't mind. She'd been raised the same and felt perfectly comfortable swimming without her suit. In fact, for her it was more a question of avoiding tanlines, for some reason.

Today's parents are called helicopters. They plan and program each minute of their children's lives. They read articles and search books and websites for better tips on parenting and raising kids without any trace of social problems. It is the complete opposite of what we had growing up. I'm sure the structure and guidance are well intentioned and probably effective. I know that the idea of two kids basically just hanging out, watching TV and swimming in the afternoons would be looked down on today as careless parenting at best, and a downright sexual scandal at worse.

The truth is, nothing ever happened. Marissa told me about boys she liked, but I don't know if she really dated. She told me she'd been wearing a bra for a year, and had moved from training bra to A cup. A real A cup and if she did exercises, she could be a B cup, and that was better, even though it was better to get an A than a B in school. She told me about games the older kids play like truth or dare. She told me about french kissing, and even kissed me once to demonstrate. This wasn't sexy or romantic. It was both of us sticking out our tongues and leaning together until they touched. It thought it felt gross. Like kissing an eel. We laughed. That was it. No other sexual things happened. We mostly listened to music, watched bad TV, and swam without swimsuits in the privacy, and security of her backyard pool. 

Maybe it was misspent youth. But at the time, it was just fun. I don't regret it at all.

Europeans

Europeans. Culturally, they seem to have a totally different attitude to sex than Americans. 

Must be nice.

Quick Break

Wife on Cruise

The Norwegian cruise line had a clothing-option policy about suntanning on the deck. The newlywed wife on her honeymoon took that option, wearing the absolute minimum. She had many guys stop by her chair to chat, many beside her husband, which was even more fun. There's nothing like being "off the market" for the first time and getting a lot of attention.

Spontaneous

Sometimes parties just happen they can't be planned. I never found myself in a spontaneous party like this in college. Sadly. Certainly is a perfect blend of the right people at the right place at the right time. 

There's one girl, who has taken off her top, but not her bra. You know she wants to be part of the fun, but without a boyfriend, is half in and half out of the moment. The other two girls are clearly the instigators. Every group needs those types of people. Anyone can walk up to the edge of something, but it takes these people to say, "let's jump," and they do, pulling you along as they go. I would have gladly been the partner to the single girl. She doesn't look that shy, just needs a partner.

Marge Monday

Marge Simpson: before and after sex. Sexy.

A little peek

She loved to wear tanktops and no bra. Sometimes she'd give me a little peek.

Handy

She loves to touch herself with one hand and strokes him with the other. One of her favorite ways to have simultaneous orgasms.  When she times it just right, her orgasm is rewarded with the spray of warm cum on her breasts. He loves it, too.

The Good Student

When I was in grad school, part of the job of Graduate Teaching Fellow (GTF) was teaching intro courses, like English 101. It was a required class and all the students wanted to pass. Some students were determined to get As and would try to talk me into them during office hours. Some students didn't seem to care one way or the other. Those were the most frustrating, because they also seemed the most self-confident. They weren't grubbing for grades because they seemed to know they were going to have a great college experience no matter what and whatever they did in life, they would be happy. One girl, I remember seemed to just have a grace about her. She was smart, and nice, and pretty, and popular without being stuck up. But she was also unaffected by any pressures, either academic or peer. She seemed to be completely herself and happy with that. I also noticed once, that she hadn't worn underwear that day. She wasn't flashing me, more like she was thinking about her writing so intently that her legs realized just enough to sit naturally, just slightly parted, and from a direct head on view, I could see up her skirt. Any other angle looked perfectly normal, it was just that one angle, sort of low, when I sat at my desk. I tried to steal glances, without being noticeable, and without feeling like a complete looser. 

Roller Skaters!

Roller skating is so retro, and so sexy when done by these gals.

On Vacation

On vacation it's easy to get dressed in the hotel room and skip panties. All the more fun when taking vacation snapshots to remember your trip.

A history of girlfriends, razors, and a return to bush

When I first started my sexual explorations, this type of bush was perfectly normal. It wouldn't be considered hairy or unhairy, shaven or unshaven, just a very lovely part of a lovely female. There were plenty of slang terms, of course: muff, beaver, snatch, cunt, twat, pootang... all sort of silly and juvenile. 

My first girlfriends in the late '80s would only shave their bikini lines, and usually only in bikini season. Anything else was seen as pointless. By the mid-90s, we started seeing the bikini lines move in tighter and tighter into the "landing strip" in the pages of Playboy and Penthouse, but all the girls I knew (now in college) still let their bush grow natural. 

Jen was the first to trim her bush, 1994

In the mid-90s, I went out with a college girlfriend for a couple years; the "long term" monogamous relationship meant we'd gotten to the point we could try anything with each other. I asked her if she'd let me trim her soft curls. At the time, it seemed new, sexy, and a little naughty. It made her seem a little less like a college student and little more like a woman I'd seen in a porn mag. Jen seemed open-minded enough to let me trim her soft golden-brown curls down to a prickly stubble, which was visually exciting for me, and painfully itchy for her.

After that relationship, I moved to a different state to go to a different university for grad school. I had a series of relationships: some casual college hook ups, some "friends with benefits" and a few girlfriends that lasted anywhere from three to seven months. Megan, Michelle, Kelly, Jen, Susan, Nancy, Coleen... some where tall, some short, some skinny as a rail and some a little softer... I genuinely liked them all, had a great time with them. They were all from different states and were different majors, and none of them seemed to alter their natural pubic hair in anyway.

Kathy was the one exception. She had a patch of dark, thick hair, that she cropped with scissors. I remember laying in bed with her after making love and by habit reaching for her to gently run my fingers through her curls. When I hit only sharp stubble, I asked, nonchalantly, why she chose to trim. She said she thought it looked more "tidy." I remember thinking that it looked fine, not bad, but not great. The original thrill I'd had of trimming my college girlfriend's curls was no longer there. Somehow it just looked like stubble, and not like breaking rules, or being like a pornstar. This was 1997. 

In 1998, I met the first girl who used a razor to shave her vulva. She was a college student putting herself through school as a stripper. I remember taking a shower with her and watching her shave herself, a new sight for me. She asked, "Do you like my shaved pussy?" (Her words exactly.) It was sexy, mostly because it was new. But I had mixed feelings about her. I wasn't sure if her being a stripper was extra sexy, or just sort of skanky. I only dated her a couple times. She invited me to come see her work. I didn't, which is my only regret.

Rachel with curls, before shaving (2000)

By the year 2000, the big Y2K, I'd transferred to another university, a Pac 10 School, with a whole new group of young co-eds. I dated Sarah, Jenny, Maria, and Rachel. None of them shaved. Sarah trimmed her curls, but just barely. Jenny, Maria, and Rachel, sported thick briars of curls.

By now, laptops had come to college campuses. We could get dial-up internet at home, and didn't have to rely upon the school computer labs. This was a new break through in being able to surf porn. Going through the school's network, we wondered if our searches were being tracked. Being dial-up, and before wi-fi, the images were slow loading. The websites clunky html. The was the web 1.0. Slow, painfully slow, but the beginnings of a porn explosion. In the 90s, we literally could only get porn from magazines on the back counter in 7-11. Playboy, Penthouse, Galley, Hustler. But by 2000, a college student could actually get their porn from the internet in the comfort of their own home. This seemed to create a surge of interest in shaving and a rapid evolution in hairstyles. 

The "landing strip" shrank to the point of "the patch." The patch was replaced by the hot trend of the Brazilian. And by the end of the decade, the Brazilian had ben replaced by the total shave. 

I wasn't imune to the trends. The long-term girlfriend I'd been dating agreed to shave her vuvla for me. Unlike the stripper, the shaved lips looked good on Rachel. We tested out different lengths of hair. I once  got her to shave it all off, but it was so itchy growing back, she vowed never to do it again. Still, she kept her lips shaved and her patch of curls tidy. For the early 2000s, it seemed appropriate to the times.

After we broke up, I had another series of relationships, some girlfriends, some more like "friends with benefits." Surprisingly, I had the same experience; the girls all seemed to let their bushes grow naturally. One even didn't shave under her arms, because she claimed it irritated her skin. By now I was out of grad school and working my first "real job" in an office, with cubicles, and a water cooler where people actually did gossip. The dress code wasn't super formal (this wasn't a bank or a law office), but it was a corporate office. So to meet women who wore smart wool skirts and blouses and nylons to work, and then to see them naked with a thick patch of pubes, seemed actually pretty wild to me. I was seeing shaven girls on the internet, but natural girls in real life.

I then started dating Jennifer (the fourth Jennifer I've dated, a popular name for my generation). She had a wild thick patch of strawberry blonde curls. For the first year of our relationship, she left her curls go natural. Like my long-term relationships before, when we reached a certain point of intimacy (or maybe the initial thrill of sex diminishing) I turned to shaving. Jennifer, a willing sport, allowed me to shave her. We kept her trimmed the next several years of our relationship. Eventually, she moved to LA.

I dated a Japanese exchange student for a while. Her hair was black and silky, and naturally very sparse. We never did any shaving or grooming. She was erotic enough as is. That relationship actually lasted over two years, fairly long-term for me.

Sahoko never shaved, never needed to. (2004)

As before, the end of a long term relationship sent me out to date and to develop some "friends with benefits." On a business trip, I hooked up with an old girlfriend Jenny (Jennifer #3); she was as unshaven in 2005 as she'd been in 1999-2000. I met another girl, Angie, who was working as a designer before going back to grad school. She has a nice thick patch of hair. She loved sex.  Kelly (the second Kelly I'd dated) also had a nice triangle of curls. She tasted the sweetest of any girl I'd been with. I could have licked her all day.

Three girlfriends kept their hair cropped short. (2005-08)

In the mid-2000s, I had two casual "friends with benefits" and both of them kept their hair groomed very short. Their hair was still in a wide triangle, but it'd been trimmed down, perhaps with an electric beard trimmer. I asked Laura why she trimmed so short and she said she felt more "hygienic" without hair. I then dated my next girlfriend for a couple years. Like my other two friends, she seemed to prefer to trim down to a coarse stubble. Sometimes she'd let her curls grow for several weeks, and then mow them back like a lawn.

It was interesting to me that what I saw on the internet wasn't exactly what I was seeing in real life. Looking at internet porn, it seemed like 99% of women shaved clean and smooth. It was actually hard to find images of natural girls, and those were often found by searching for terms like "hairy." 

Unshaven, the norm of the 20th Century, had become a fetish in the new millennium.

Yet, the actual girls I met, seemed to contradict what was being shown online. From 2000-2010, I dated a dozen girls. Four of those girls kept themselves trimmed by their own choice. Two of them had been natural by their own choice, but had allowed me to trim and shave them. And six let their hair grow naturally before, during, and probably after our relationships. Basically, the internet told me that 99% of women shaved. Admittedly, my sample size is not large enough to be statistically conclusive, but as first-person experience, I found that 50% of the women I'd been with between 2000-2010 didn't shave at all and let their curls grow natural and untamed. 

I realize that we're in a relatively conservative time period. Far from the hippie movement, the average girls I see on the street wear makeup, highlight their hair in salons, pluck their eyebrows, and shave under their arms. Based on this outward grooming and contemporary internet porn, it seems that shaved pubes is the mainstream. Yet in actuality, it may not be as prevalent as one would think. 

Fashion is always in flux. If not in constant change, fashion would cease to fashion. Yet it is also obvious that as much as fashion changes, its motion is so often cyclical. There's the old saying, wait long enough and your clothes will come back in style. And its' true. Today's vintage stores are filled with  neon mini-skirts and plastic sunglasses of the 1980s.

Levi jeans and Raybans have been around since the 50s. They never really went out of style. Perhaps just stayed around quietly as new trends came and went. Perhaps pubic hair is like this. The natural bush had all of the 20th Century. Now, in a new internet era of the 21st Century, the shaven look is in. Bush never really went away. And, in time, it's bound to make a comeback.

Current girlfriend, letting it grow. 2011

Shoreline

There's really nothing more fun than fucking outside. I mean really fucking like animals, on the grass by a lake, with the sun overhead and your grunts and moans echoing off the mountains. That's raw, powerful, and reminds us of the call of the wild.

Pull Up Over

My College Experience

Apartment. Mattress on floor. Bicycle. Sex.

Pretty much sums up my college experience.

Ode to Spring

This image makes me nostalgic for the days when the grass returns, green and smelling of Spring. The moist earthy musk that makes you feel alive. The sun feels fresh and warm on skin. The surge of yputhful energy and growth. O spring.

Marge Monday

Marge has two older twin sisters, Patty and Selma Bouvier. Both sisters are single and live together in the Spinster City apartment complex and work at the DMV. The two chain-smoking twins have a strong, ongoing dislike of Marge's husband, Homer. They're quick to point out his short comings, and suspecting that Homer is as lazy in bed as he is around the house, they decided to give Marge a little present.

If there's one thing Selma and Patty know about, it's sex toys. Although Selma has been married several times, each of the marriages ended as a sham (Sideshow Bob, who tried to kill her), Troy McClure (who married as a publicity stunt), Disco Stu, Lionel Hutz, and even Grandpa. Her sex life remains wanting, and Patty, a lesbian, only love turned out to be, in fact, a man. Both women's sex life is dependent upon toys. They've ordered and tried out many over the years, and they knew just which one to get their sister Marge. 

In their quest to find Marge a replacement for Homer, the twins have given Marge a special gift: a giant vibrating 15" dildo. With the satisfaction of the new toy, they hope, Marge will see the shortcomings of Homer's sexual prowess and ability to please her.

When Marge gets her present, she can't wait to try it out. With the help of some lube, she manages to work the first couple inches in of the 15" dildo. She's happy to have such supportive sisters and can't wait to share her new toy with Homer.

Small Enough

She had an opening in the back of her special panties that was just the right size to let her slip a finger in back, but small enough that it didn't reveal anything. She positioned her camera and set the self timer. She thought it'd give her boyfriend a good idea of what she had in mind the next time they saw each other.

Shutter Bug

So So Nice

One of the sexiest girls we've had the privilege of featuring on this blog. Enjoy!

Tan Lines

To save costs, they all shared a room for spring break. Also, it gave them a chance to get to know each other better outside of school and the usual routine. 

For four days they swam and hung out in the sun, relaxing, tanning, and getting more and more comfortable with each other.

Two toys

When he came out of the shower and saw her on the bed, it looked like she was using her large white vibrator on her clit and fingering herself with her left hand. She was. What he didn't realize until he came in for a closer look, to his surprise, was that she'd also taken her small vibrating bullet, and was working it in and out of her ass.

Her Wedding Day

Watching Porn and Taking Self Snaps

Is there anything sexier than watching porn with your hot girlfriend? Only maybe if she gets up, naked, and takes a picture of herself watching porn to document it.

Marge Monday

Marge loves sex with Homer. The longer and harder, the better.

Sock Party

A party where you are only allowed to keep your socks on. Fun.

College Dorm, 1965

In the dorm, at an all-woman's college back East, 1965, after a dance.

Bikini Slip has a secret

What a lovely image. It's not clear if she sat up quickly and her bikini top (that she'd loosened for tanning) suddenly slipped. That would then be a wonderful accidental flash. Or if she and her husband were at a resort, perhaps in the off season, and with so few other guests, didn't mind pushing the boundaries of what she could and couldn't expose. Is she looking up suddenly, unaware of her top, or is she on the look out, in case anyone comes this way as she has her breast bare for the sun or the camera?

After Swim

There are few better sensations than coming out of the water after skinny dipping and standing naked on the shore, and drying off, and feeling the sun on your skin, and the water slowly evaporating. 

Friends with Benefits

She was one of those friends with benefits. A totally uninhibited, chill girl. She didn't seem like one of those girls who had been abused and was a strung out junkie, working the strip clubs for free booze and tips. Nor did she seem an insecure girl, trying to use sex as a way to feel more popular. She seemed totally normal, just full of life. She loved to laugh. And had no fear. She was the friend that was braver than the guys, who would always be the first to do something like bungee jump, sky dive, or buy a one-way ticket. She was the kind of girl who would kiss other girls if dared. She'd flash her tits at mardi gras. She'd pretty much do anything if she thought it'd be fun. She seemed to be so casual about her sexuality that it seemed powerful and confident. She didn't seem to have the idea that sex made you a bad person, or that giving sex to one person diminished the pleasure or emotion of giving it to someone else. She didn't just have sex to have sex, but with her friends, because she genuinely liked them and enjoyed having experiences with them. Rather than have the guys fight over her and get jealous and bring that negative energy to their relationship, she made it clear that they had to share, and that if everyone was cool, they'd all have fun and could stay friends.

Patio

It was a lovely sunny afternoon. A warm breeze came in through the open door. She fixed a sandwich and decided to take it out to the patio for lunch.

Pretty in Pink

Tan lines

She'd been spending a lot of time in her backyard tanning by the pool. Sometimes, it was so warm, she liked to take off her suit and walk about the house bare bottom.