Oh the sex they had back in the day, when they were young and freshly married. He's glad he has at least these three snapshots to remember.
Sunday, October 03, 2010
Fred Catches Wilma and Betty, Then Joins in (Part 2)
Life in Bedrock could get pretty dull. As the two husbands spent their days at the quarry, and out bowling and at the Water Buffalo Lodge, Wilma and Betty were often left to themselves. They found ways to entertain themselves to take their mind off of the repetitive mind-numbing housework.
Some times the wives would test out the toys on each other. Wilma was used to a large bone. |
Sometimes Wilma and Betty didn't use toys at all, but just enjoyed each other's bodies. |
They didn't tell their husbands how they spent their weekdays. Eventually Fed found out. |
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| He came in and joined them. |
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| Wilma didn't mind sharing her man as long as she could still join in. |
Saturday, October 02, 2010
Thursday, September 30, 2010
Sometimes Mommy Likes it Rough
Sometimes she likes it rough. She likes her hair pulled and to be taken hard in the back. She likes being on her knees. Just because she has kids and is a mom, doesn't mean she's lost her edge. She loves being a mom, she loves having to watch her language and set a good example. But whenever she can, she likes being bad again.
Flintstones, Meet the Flintstones. (Part 1)
The Flintstones celebrate their 50th Anniversary today. Hard to imagine anyone in America not knowing about the Flintstones. What, you been living under a rock?
I always thought that Betty, married to the passive and diminutive Barney, might be attracted to the larger, more bull-like Fred, while Wilma, tired of Fred's boorish nature, might turn to the more sensitive and gentle Barney.
If you don't know, their a "modern stone age family" from the town of Bedrock. They drive stone cars peddled with their feet, eat brontosaurus burgers at the drive thru, and live in a ranch-style stone home in a typical stone age suburb. Fred Flintstone and his best friend Barney Rubble work at the rock quarry, are on the bowling league for their recreation, and are members of the Loyal order of Water Buffalos. At the end of a long day, they come home to their loving wives, Wilma and Betty. And of course Dino, the dog-like dinosaur. They're a classic all-American family reflective of the values of the era. Not the stone age, but the 1960-1966.
Based fairly directly on the classic TV show the Honeymooners, the Flintstones became a hit. It aired originally in primetime, was sponsored by Winstone cigarettes, and was the first animated series to show a couple sleeping in the same bed. Although far tamer by today's animated series such as the Simpsons, South Park, and Family Guy, the Flintstones had a definite sexual undertone. Fred and Barney and Wilma and Betty formed a tight suburban foursome, living not only next door, but seemingly so closely integrated into each other's lives that they were "more than just friends."
Even as a kid, there seemed to be some strange sexual tension in the power dynamic. Fred was a loving husband and best friend, but quick to anger. The dominant male over both his wife and his buddy Barney. Barney was the shorter sidekick, passive to Fred's testosterone. As the couples played cards together, went to the movies together, dined together on double dates, there was always a sense that at any point they could carry that into the bedroom. Spice up their suburban life.
I always thought that Betty, married to the passive and diminutive Barney, might be attracted to the larger, more bull-like Fred, while Wilma, tired of Fred's boorish nature, might turn to the more sensitive and gentle Barney.
Both Wilma and Betty seemed to be real hotties. Probably married by age 20, they were certainly still young and attractive. It was clear that either Fred or Barney would be stoked to bed either of them.
Wednesday, September 29, 2010
Kate's Spanish Hammock
When Kate was studying abroad in Spain, she had a hammock in her backyard. The high walls afforded her complete privacy, and in the muggy afternoons during the traditional siesta time, she'd often go out to her hammock in the buff. Sometimes she'd sleep, and sometimes find distraction and relaxation with her fingers.
Tuesday, September 28, 2010
Monday, September 27, 2010
Essential Summer Ingredients
This is how to enjoy summer: red raft, red shorts, red bikini, beer in a red cozie, and apparently, these two ladies.
Sunday, September 26, 2010
Abandoned Car
We were hiking in Arizona when we found an old red car abandoned in an arroyo. The dry Arizona desert has a way of preserving old cars--so arid, there is little rust or rot. It was faded by the sun, even in the shade.
It's not totally uncommon to come across old cars in the desert. People run out of gas, or break down, or are maybe feeing the law. The desert has a lot of secrets and keeps them well.
It's sort of exciting to find an abandoned car. There's a thrill of mystery and adventure, and maybe even a little danger. We loved the red car. She said if it ran, it should be ours and we could drive it to Mexico.
We stopped in the heat of the day for a break to let the sun go down some and cool a bit before heading back. It was probably 90 degrees even in the shade. She stripped naked, and sat on the car. I took a few snapshots to document our discovery. Then we made love with her on the hood of the car and me standing.
Saturday, September 25, 2010
Friday, September 24, 2010
Her Walden
She wanted to get back to the land. She wanted to know what it felt live to live free and one with nature. She thought humans had gotten too far away from the basics and had lost touch with what did and didn't matter.
She'd recently graduated from the Environmental Studies program at her college. She was a smart student and loved to read. Thoreau was one of her favorites, and Walden changed her profoundly. She loved the reason he had taken to the woods: to "live deliberately, to front only the essential facts of life, and see if I could not learn what it had to teach, and not, when I came to die, discover that I had not lived."
She wondered if the very rules of society she'd been taught were just handed down from the Industrial Revolution. Ideas of schools being in large brick buildings, and learning coming from books, and work being done Monday - Friday, 9-5. Why was everything so compartmentalized, she wondered? Why did a human day not go any like a deer's? Why not eat when you're hungry, bath in a river, and if you have to pee, pee? She wanted to see how her thinking of herself and the land would change if she lived within its rhythms and pace, rather than imposing her schedules and ideas onto it.
So she wrote all this up and proposed an independent study for the term. She took to the woods, and stripped off any clothes she didn't need, and wore clothing only if cold. She gathered food, but ate only when hungry. She swam in the river, and when she had to pee, she just did. She began to feel more and more return of sensations, moods, and urges. She felt her instinct growing more acute, as well as her hearing and sense of smell. She grew leaner, but stronger. Her eyes clear and her lungs filled with clean air.
She knew, intellectually, that she would not be able to sustain this lifestyle more than a term. But, for a term, she did. And she found, as her hero Thoreau, that she had lived deliberately, and that would not die without having lived.
She'd recently graduated from the Environmental Studies program at her college. She was a smart student and loved to read. Thoreau was one of her favorites, and Walden changed her profoundly. She loved the reason he had taken to the woods: to "live deliberately, to front only the essential facts of life, and see if I could not learn what it had to teach, and not, when I came to die, discover that I had not lived."
She wondered if the very rules of society she'd been taught were just handed down from the Industrial Revolution. Ideas of schools being in large brick buildings, and learning coming from books, and work being done Monday - Friday, 9-5. Why was everything so compartmentalized, she wondered? Why did a human day not go any like a deer's? Why not eat when you're hungry, bath in a river, and if you have to pee, pee? She wanted to see how her thinking of herself and the land would change if she lived within its rhythms and pace, rather than imposing her schedules and ideas onto it.
So she wrote all this up and proposed an independent study for the term. She took to the woods, and stripped off any clothes she didn't need, and wore clothing only if cold. She gathered food, but ate only when hungry. She swam in the river, and when she had to pee, she just did. She began to feel more and more return of sensations, moods, and urges. She felt her instinct growing more acute, as well as her hearing and sense of smell. She grew leaner, but stronger. Her eyes clear and her lungs filled with clean air.
She knew, intellectually, that she would not be able to sustain this lifestyle more than a term. But, for a term, she did. And she found, as her hero Thoreau, that she had lived deliberately, and that would not die without having lived.
Thursday, September 23, 2010
Bottons Up!
There's few things that turn me on more than when she bends over on her knees, revealing the curve of her backside, the cleft of her butt, with the thin hair, usually hidden, open to my sight. I love her full lips, her small pucker of her pretty anus. She loves to be gently spanked, pinched and licked from behind like this, until we are both too turned on to restrain ourselves any longer. She loves to be taken in the back, slowly and gently, until her body relaxes and can accommodate my cock. Then she likes me to go fast and harder, so she can feel my balls slapping on her pussy lips. She says by keeping her knees together, she can keep pressure on her clitoris. Usually, we'll both end with crashing, powerful orgasms. And I love that sometimes she's not even fully undressed.
Wednesday, September 22, 2010
STEPHANIE AND WOODSTOCK
In high school, I had a good friend Stephanie. We both went through our "hippie" phase, which had nothing to do with being an actual hippie, but really just idolizing the general and romanic pathos of freedom and self-expression. We listened to a lot of classic music, raiding our parents record collections for The Doors, The Grateful Dead, Kat Stevens, and such. We became vegetarians because we didn't know what else to protest, and we basically started growing our hair long and not wearing makeup. I threw away my razor. We were pretty original, we thought. We read lots of Tom Robins and Jack Kerouac and poems by ee cummings, which isn't really hippie, but seemed to fit.
Stephanie had found this pair of really cool leather boots. She started wearing them to school everyday. I was taking photography classes then, and I thought it'd be fun to have her be my model. We'd just watched the documentary on Woodstock and so it seemed fun to try some nudes.
We took her car, a 14-year-old Camery, which was not very hippie, either, and drove out to Sauvie's Island, where there is a beach. Going in September, in the middle of the weekday, meant we had the whole area to ourselves. It's like a 45 minute drive, and even then you hike to it and so, it's cool. The day was crisp, but brilliantly sunny, the way Fall can be in Oregon.
Looking at the photo now, it seems like a silly pose, like we're really trying too hard to recreate an image as we've seen somewhere else and isn't really original. But that's not important. We're older now and looking back, I can't believe how fearless we were and so fast to just hop in a car and drive out to take a nude photo. In that sense, we really were rebelling and being ourselves, and that energy, and spontaneity, and that freedom, I miss.
Stephanie had found this pair of really cool leather boots. She started wearing them to school everyday. I was taking photography classes then, and I thought it'd be fun to have her be my model. We'd just watched the documentary on Woodstock and so it seemed fun to try some nudes.
We took her car, a 14-year-old Camery, which was not very hippie, either, and drove out to Sauvie's Island, where there is a beach. Going in September, in the middle of the weekday, meant we had the whole area to ourselves. It's like a 45 minute drive, and even then you hike to it and so, it's cool. The day was crisp, but brilliantly sunny, the way Fall can be in Oregon.
Looking at the photo now, it seems like a silly pose, like we're really trying too hard to recreate an image as we've seen somewhere else and isn't really original. But that's not important. We're older now and looking back, I can't believe how fearless we were and so fast to just hop in a car and drive out to take a nude photo. In that sense, we really were rebelling and being ourselves, and that energy, and spontaneity, and that freedom, I miss.
Tuesday, September 21, 2010
Sexy Time at Local Nude Beach
What's sexier than a day at the beach?
--A day at a nude beach.
What's sexier than that?
--When the conversation turns to sex.
What's sexier than that?
--When talk turns to action.
Even though the beach was crowded with men and women, old and young, and all strangers, she decided to take his cock into her mouth.
What's sexier than that?
She then reached over and began to fondle his best friend.
Labels:
couples,
mmf,
nude beach,
outdoors,
public nudity,
wife
Monday, September 20, 2010
SHOW AND TELL
When Jennifer was old enough to go to the lake cabin by herself with her best friend, she found some things her parents had hidden. One was a condom with funny bumps on the tip. Another was a large rubber dildo. And the third item was a magazine with explicit image, suggesting how the rubber dildo might be used. Jennifer had a fun time showing her find with her friend. They spent hours inspecting the images, and it made her turned on. She was eager to try the dildo herself, and wondered if her friend would want to try, too.

Sunday, September 19, 2010
KNUCKLE DEEP
I knew she masturbated, of course. But I'd never simply asked her how she did it and what she liked. She told me she really liked it in the morning, right when she woke up or right after her shower. This made sense, as she always seemed to be "awake" when she woke up, unlike me, who needs about 3 cups of coffee before I can even form words.
I always assumed she'd lay on her back, rub her clit with her fingertip. I was surprised to learn that she in fact liked to be sitting up, on her knees. She loved to fantasize about being taken from behind. One morning when I stayed over and she was feeling extra awake and frisky, I asked her to demonstrate her private technique for me.
She started out laying on her stomach and rolling around on her blankets. She slipped a pillow between her legs and humped it. As she got more and more excited, she raised her hips and sat back onto her knees. Her hand reached back behind her and slipped into her. She began to push it in and out, deeper and deeper with each thrust. She was really getting into it, moving closer and closer to orgasm. Then I realized which hole her finger was in, pushed as deep as it would go, hard as it could thrust.
We'd never tried anal before, but she was clearly showing me exactly what she liked.
We'd never tried anal before, but she was clearly showing me exactly what she liked.
Saturday, September 18, 2010
Let 'er buck!
This week marks the 100th anniversary of the legendary Pendleton Roundup. Pendleton's not the oldest rodeo, or the largest, but it takes its place at the top of the list in the real cowboys hearts, a place of tradition from Jackson Sundown to Casey Tibbs to Larry Mahan to Ty Murray and today's greats. The dirt track, the grass field, the wooden grandstands. Pendleton stays close to its roots.Chris LeDoux loved Pendelton, and told a funny story of the time he and Mahan and JC Trujillo somehow ended up riding a burro into the Tapadero Motel in downtown Pendleton. Those fun-loving roughstock riders of the 70s where just as wild as the hard-drinking, hard riding cowboys of the 50s, who where just as salty as the cowboys of the 20s. The great thing is, you probably could have mixed any one of them from any generation, and they would have ridden together and raised hell together.
The Roundup isn't as rowdy as it once was. As money and sponsorship and tourism gets bigger, the times start to change. There are now signs posted in the Let 'er Buck room (the infamous bar beneath the grandstands) that prohibit public nudity. No pubic nudity? The Let 'er Buck room was once the cowboy Mardi Gras. Much of the glory days are now just memory. Although these images are not from the Roundup, I believe they are pretty accurate to what Larry Mahan and his pals called "Buckle Bunnies." Some classics never go out of style.
Friday, September 17, 2010
ARTE CINEMA
I went to a film festival in Italy. The people there were all beautiful, especially the women. They wore elegant fashion, which Italy is so famous for. It wasn't that they were so well dressed, but so sexy. The women seemed to embody sexuality. The dresses were cut low, always seeming to promise a glimpse of cleavage, or rise up to reveal soft thighs. Every where I looked, I saw more and more luscious skin. And once, I caught a glimpse of even more.
I went to a film festival in Italy. The people there were all beautiful, especially the women. They wore elegant fashion, which Italy is so famous for. It wasn't that they were so well dressed, but so sexy. The women seemed to embody sexuality. The dresses were cut low, always seeming to promise a glimpse of cleavage, or rise up to reveal soft thighs. Every where I looked, I saw more and more luscious skin. And once, I caught a glimpse of even more.
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