Paul'S PlacE ❗ ⭕❗⭕ ❗⭕
These aggregation of stories,
lampoons and irreverent points of view...
occasionally make sense.
I hope you can share my smile.

i FROZE my fricken fingers. Click the pic 4 a clear view
(* ©April 2018-22 January Paul)
Keywords | Title View | Refer to a Friend |
How Short Can It Be And Still. ..
Posted:Dec 7, 2018 1:32 am
Last Updated:Jul 13, 2019 3:20 am
.... satisfy ....
. .
Ice Sharks Don't Really Exist
Posted:Dec 6, 2018 1:42 am
Last Updated:Jun 10, 2020 6:39 pm
The north wind, howled down the lake. It blew the powdered snow, across his path, in horizontal sheets, that stung his cheeks. Brilliant midday sun, belied the harsh cold and blinded him. He lowered his covered head and trudged forward. When they were in love - they would walk that expanse together... laughing, as they slipped their way, across the polished ice. 

He moved steadfastly, in spite of the arctic conditions. Though you might have thought, he would be concerned. Would he find his way to safety, on the other side - before freezing... or falling through the ice?

When she was with him,  that was the joke , they always shared. They both knew, there was never, any danger, of either event occurring. The ice was three feet thick and they were dressed, like Everest climbers. 

When they would finally arrive (at that other side), the families from the ice huts, would greet them with warm hugs. Shots of alcohol, would always be shared. They would toast to health, to happiness and to long lives. Heck... eventually... they would toast to the fish. He would pull out the sandwiches and whatever else he'd brought in his knapsack, and they would all party. She'd laugh with him and with those hardy men and women, as they fished, for whatever they were catching - through those ice holes. Snowmobiles - chased by dogs and piloted by teens - would buzz around, racing across the ice and snow. By late day, the fishing would be done and the ice holes would be quickly, freezing over. They would have eaten, and drank and bated hooks, all afternoon. Plumes of grey smoke, would rise from wood stoves, as those shacks, became welcome shelters for the  frozen. There were many... who huddled in there; laughing, as marshmallows were being toasted and hot chocolate, was being served.

On this day, he was alone. He was halfway to the fishermen, as he paused and looked forward at the scattered ice huts. He then turned, and looked back, at that black dot, by  his shore. It was where, he had parked his car.

When she was with him... she'd laugh and make fun, of his resolve. She'd always walk ahead, beckoning him, to catch up to her.

"Quick... Quick... Come here. I see an ice shark, " she'd holler and wave to him, as she stared into the black ice. He'd always run up to her, as if it were true... just to amuse her. She would always reward him, with a loving kiss. Ice sharks don't really exist. I guess, a sturgeon might look like a shark, if you didn't know any better. 

There were no jokes, or laughter... or kisses, to share with anyone, on this day. The wind... hardly cared. It mocked him... whistling in his ears. He shielded his eyes against the sun, adjusted his glasses and peered into the whiteness. He looked at those dotted huts in the distance - through that wind swept haze. Then... he turned around. With his back to those shacks... and those fishermen - he slowly made his way, towards  his shoreline. 

When they were together, she'd ask him, if they could hurry back. Her feet were usually freezing... by then. 

There was no rush now. He'd be at his car, in less than an hour. The unopened bottle of vodka, resting in his pack, would still be cold, by the time he got home. He was standing, on a large patch of clear ice, as he bent down to adjust his boots. Just as he rose from his crouch, he saw, a shark swim by. "That was impossible... " he thought. "Ice sharks don't really exist." 

© December 2018 Paul P.
Can you enjoy, going on adventures alone; or do you only go, when you have company to join you?
Have you ever been ice fishing? 
. .
. .
FrankeeZee and the Xmas Partee... 🎅... #48
Posted:Dec 4, 2018 1:18 am
Last Updated:Jun 14, 2020 6:00 pm
FrankeeZee is a funny guy. He's my friend and blogger buddy (from that other sex site - ™FOGCAF) and he came over to my house on Sunday. We ordered pizza, watched the Patriots beat the Vikings and then... he let me read one of his wild blog stories.

"Paul... We had our Company Christmas Party on Friday. I wrote a blog about it. I know you don't know shit, about writing, or blogging... but I'd like your opinion anyway. Ok?"

He passed me his laptop and went into my fridge, to grab another drink.

" Hey... Paul... You're outta vodka slushies?"

"There's more in the freezer..." I yelled back.

I began to read FrankeeZee's blog ...

... Everyone in the office (even Bob, in accounting), looks forward, to that one day, in the year - the Company Christmas Party. This year's affair was epic. Some people said - "It was the best party we've ever had!" Others... disagreed. Regardless of what you thought... it was deffinitely an unforgettable night!

It was held, at the airport Hilton and they booked rooms for all 50 of us. We took advantage of the open bar and they served a great Mediterranean buffet. The DJ, played an eclectic mix of tunes, and that just rounded out the vibe. I mean... who doesn't like "Jingle Bell Rock" ?

(I smiled to myself. FrankeeZee's casual writing style, resembled mine... a lot. In fact... too much ! I continued to read... )

I'll describe how the night went down, but you know company parties. Everyone was getting hammered. Mike (the new guy in sales), was telling the President, how to run his company. Morty (in receivables), was hitting on that hot, new, Marketing Secretary - Belinda. Rebeca, had already had, the fight, with her boyfriend. She'd told him to "fuck off", before dessert. She then began hitting on the VP Finance, Michael - even though his wife Sandra, was sitting right next to him. Oh, and Sammy... he got into some sort of political argument with Gail's new boyfriend - Alex. I have to admit... Alex was being an asshole. Like I said... it was your typical company Christmas party.

Santa Claus finally showed up, to pass out the gifts - and that's, when things got... slightly out of control.

Santa was this guy - Steve, in shipping. He was built for the part and no extra pillows were required. Cindy (Sammy's girlfriend), volunteered to be Santa's Little Helper. She was wearing a really... short skirt and she was blasted. Someone, dared her to go up on stage without wearing any panties. Cindy sat on Santa's lap - as she was introduced to all of us. We gave her a nice round of applause. I noticed she left a wet spot, on his knee... when she stood up. It's when she bent over the table (to pass out the first gift) - that's when everyone, saw EVERYTHING, she had to offer.

Yes... all of her woman bits were on display. It was hot! Alex, started hooting and hollering and Sammy, told him to - "Shut the fuck up." Before we knew it, Sammy had thrown Alex, into the large bowl of jello, on the sweet table. What a mess!

We continued the party, until 3 am - when they closed the bar and kicked us out of the hall. A bunch of us, then went to Bob's room, drank some more, and sang made up Christmas carols. You know... songs like... "Deck His Balls"...?

Cindy's blowing
Santa's growing
Fa la la la la...
La la... la la.
Sammy's fuming
and he's throwing
Jell le le le low...
Low low... low low.

Sammy and Cindy, weren't there, by the way. We had to stop singing, when the cops showed up.

All in all... a memorable time, was had by everyone. We can hardly wait, for the Company Valentine's Day Party. It's going to be the same DJ.

Question :
Do you like Christmas cartoons?

I closed FrankeeZee' s laptop and looked at him.

"Good story Frank, but your blog question is... irrelevant. What do cartoons have to do with your Christmas Party... and the blog you wrote?"

"Paul... You really know, fuck all, about blogging on sex sites. People don't really read what you write. The only thing they care about is the question you ask. They want to answer an easy question - then move onto the next blog, as quickly as possible. And let's face it - who doesn't like Christmas cartoons? My Comments section, is going to go be off the charts. I've told you before - it's all about engaging your audience. "

I stared at FrankeeZee and blinked.

"Hey Paul. The football game's over. What else is on?"

I checked the TV menu.

"Uhhh... We could watch more football. Or... we've got... 'Frosty The Snow Man' ... Oh and uhh.. the Network has, 'A Charlie Brown Chrismas'. "

"Yeah... how about 'A Charlie Brown Christmas''? That Frosty guy, just creeps me out. Why the fuck, is a grown snow MAN, hanging around and playing with a bunch of ... right?"

I looked up at FrankeeZee, shook my head... took the remote and punched in channel 94.

What are some of your favorite Christmas cartoons or Specials ?
Do you enjoy Company (...or family ...or friends' ) Christmas parties?

FrankeeZee is a member of ™FOGCAF - Friends OF Good Clean Adulterous Fun

FrankeeZee's pic of Cindy's boyfriend (Sammy), helping her out of her panties.
This story is my submission to - Virtual Symposium #48 Virtual Symposium Group . .
. .
Kinky Sex... Or Vanilla Ice Cream?
Posted:Nov 30, 2018 12:39 am
Last Updated:Jun 14, 2020 6:02 pm
Last night, my friend FrankeeZee and I, were hanging out together, at the mall. That's where most guys, past the age of 50, usually hang out... right?

We were just sitting around... chilling... watching the MILF's, as they lined up with their - for a visit, with Santa Claus.

FrankeeZee was providing the commentary by rating them, on a scale from one to ten. I took a marginal interest, in who was passing. I mean - I didn't want to seem like a perv . And with what happened to us, the last time we were there... well... We are still, on the Mall Watch List . Oh... and the way... I.m blaming FrankeeZee, for THAT whole fuckup.

If you recall, FrankeeZee is a member of another, 'adult dating/sex site' (™FOGCAF) , and he's become a huge part, of the blogger community over there. He proudly announced to me that he recently, cracked the 'Top 200 All Time Blogger List' .

"Yeah... I finally cracked the top 200. I am 198th. Where are you Paul?"

"I don't know. We don't worry about shit like that over at A F F . We're too busy creating quality content."

"Ahhh...! So you're not in the top 50 yet... right? You should post pics of people fucking. Or do a Think Piece. Yeah! Everyone loves that type of shit."

I looked at him and blinked.

"Hey Paul... How about this for a blog post idea - Vanilla Ice Cream...? What do you think? I explore the whole concept of multi-flavored ice cream and how it relates to people's choices, in sexual preferences and kinkiness. And... let's face it... everyone loves ice cream. My 'Comments', are gonna shoot right off the charts. It's all about the 'Comments' ... It's all about engaging your audience, Paul."

I looked at him... and blinked again.

Suddenly, FrankeeZee, nudged me in the ribs...

" Paul... Paul... That one there. Take a look. Ooo... she's hot! Let's follow her, and see where she goes. "

" She's dragging a 2 year o.ld and she's got another in the stroller, for fucks sake! That's how we got into trouble the last time."

"Yeah... yeah... You're right about that. I gotta better idea. Let's go get an ice cream. There's a place on the second floor. They serve 100 flavors."

"That's the first good idea, you've come up with, in a long time, " I nodded.

So... off we trudged...

There was a huge line up when we got there. It gave me the time, to read their 'Menu - Of 100 Flavors' .

"Holy cow. They gotta lotta flavors... Hmmm... I don't know... I think I'll have the mint chocolate chip. How's about you Frank?"

"Me? Oh, I always order the same thing when I.m here; vanilla... two scoops."

I looked at FrankeeZee... and just shook my head.

© December 2018 Paul P.
What's your favorite flavor of ice cream?

Do you think there is a correlation between your choice of ice cream flavor and your sexual kinkiness level?

FrankeeZee is a member of ™FOGCAF - Friends OF Good Clean Adulterous Fun . .
. .
Wet And Naked In Jamaica
Posted:Nov 29, 2018 12:57 am
Last Updated:May 4, 2019 12:19 pm
He opened the screen door, stepped in, and then quickly shut it behind him. Thunder... rumbled in the distance... and rain draped, a steady beat, against the roof of their hut. He kicked his sandals to the side, walked into the sparsely lit bedroom and paused... there she lay.

His eyes gradually adjusted to the darkness. He looked up. The large, chrome ceiling fan hummed quietly and circled at a pace... that could barely move dust. Looking down at the bed, he could see that her head, was buried deep, in a pillow. Long strands of her brown hair, lay tussled across her face. Her breathing was slow and deep... and he knew... she'd had too much to drink. Though... even in that dim light... she looked beautiful, and of course... completely helpless.

The tile floors, were cold under his feet, as he quietly tiptoed over ... and sat beside her, on the bed. He listened. She breathed in... and then out... to the rhythm, of a slow... ticking... clock, which only measured time - at half speed. You know... it's that clock you use when you're on vacation. The night table, held evidence: the bottle of wine, was half empty and the glass next to it ... was stained, with her crimson lipstick. Her soggy shirt, barely covered her breasts, and her damp jeans... "Well... hey... she'd obviously been outside, in the rain," he thought. "She couldn't be comfortable - as wet as she was."

He unfastened the top button on her pants and pulled the zipper. His fingers slipped in against her warm...satin skin. Her hips resisted. He pulled gently, raised her and tugged the wet denim, down her creamy thighs, along her legs and toward her feet. Finally... they were free. She moved... and sighed. He threw the jeans over the edge of a chair and turned to her again..."That shirt is coming off too," he said to himself. With gentle, nimble hands, he unbuttoned and slipped that wet garment off her silky back - throwing it to the side. Her breasts lay free...

He touched her - as his hands softly caressed her waist and hips. Once again...he realized... she was wet! The panties she wore, were damp and he presumed - " ... not cozy at all. I'll help her." He slipped his fingers into the elastic band and slowly... pulled them off. Tangled... twisted... cotton... soon disappeared, past her toes. He gazed at that bare, smooth mound between her legs. Her breasts rose, as she breathed. She remained... silent - her eyes closed tight.

He stood up and looked at her.... She was... perfectly peaceful...and completely naked. He wished she was awake. He couldn't leave her like that. The sound of rolling thunder, and rain beating overhead - startled him from his daze... and reminded him to continue.

Reaching over to the dresser, he grabbed her bikini bottom and began slipping it... up her legs. Her skin, was soft to his touch. She only twitched once, or perhaps it was twice - as his hands came close, to that special warmth between her thighs. Was she wet... in that other way...or did he imagine it? He would have touched her there... but he wouldn't. He only did so (from pure necessity), to adjust the fit of her bikini... around that spot. She would usually, push herself toward him, so he could touch it. The heat he felt, warmed his fingers - as he lingered there. The tips of his fingers... so close... he could feel her heartbeat. And you know... how close, he had to be... !

Seizing the bikini top, he then tied the string, behind her neck and across her back. Cupping her full breasts in his hands, while pushing her nipples into their final resting place... he realized that... that... he'd aroused them. How did that happen? Her nipples were erect, and hard. He looked at her as she slept; her eyes were shut tight. Relieved and quite satisfied that his tasks were complete... he leaned over... and kissed her cheek.

He was about to get up from her side, when he felt a hand on his thigh.

"Paul... my darling... I fell asleep. I waited for you... and then I got bored. Where were you my love?" Lynn ran her fingers, through her tussled hair, and smiled... sleepily.

"Hey babe...I got stuck. The rain washed out, one of the roads... I had to drive halfway round Jamaica, to get back to the hotel. I see you started the party without me?"

"Come here... you!"

She reached with both arms and hugged his neck... pulling him close, as she kissed him with all her might. Their tongues lingered... and their breath quickened...

"I wasn't wearing this bikini when I went to bed. How'd I get dressed like this? Did you look at me naked?" Lynn laughed.

"I can change the oil on a '65 Mustang, in the dark, with a crescent wrench dear. I can certainly undress, and then dress you, without looking... " Paul stared at her, unblinking. But... he couldn't hold back his laughter.

"... without looking very much... that is.'re hot when you're naked and sleeping," he laughed.

"What about when I.m awake?" She looked at him, with her twinkling, blue green eyes, and kissed him once again. Then... she lunged for his shorts... tugging them down.

"Why did I bother dressing you Lynn?" he asked, in mock anger.

"I don't know. I was awake... I was faking it... and I.m fucking wet now. It took all of my strength, not to spread my legs... and just push your fingers inside me."

"Whaaat...? Seriously ? You're bad... !"

Paul stood up and pulled off his shorts. His hard dick, swung in the air - as Lynn grabbed it and dragged him on top of her. Their playful laughter filled the room. Lynn screamed, as Paul tugged her bikini, off her bum...and tossed it in the air.

The rain had stopped and it was quiet outside - except... for a million crickets. They both knew... there was another storm - just about to begin. And it was brewing... right inside that bedroom.

© December 2018 Paul P.
What do you think about - Vacation sex - is it (was it), better than regular sex?
Do you enjoy that laid back vacation vibe

Yep... The question to this post was a tough one. 😶 . .
.. .
Memories In A Puff Of Smoke
Posted:Nov 27, 2018 1:47 am
Last Updated:Jun 10, 2020 6:41 pm
I've never been a big cigarette smoker... but... when I was 9 , I gave it a serious go. It wasn't my idea - it was Tony's. He was also 9... but he acted more like... well... more like he was 10 or 11 . He was my best friend... and one lazy summer afternoon - we smoked ourselves silly.

Tony was my neighbour and lived across the street. Every morning, before his dad left for work, he'd give him, to buy a pack of cigarettes. In those days, a pack cost... about or so? With any change left, he was allowed to get gum and candy or firecrackers... or whatever he wanted.

Back then... us were allowed to purchase stuff, like cigarettes or even beer, for our parents. Nobody asked us for a note, or anything like that. Store owners were trusting and rules were lax. We also drank water out of garden hoses and drove in cars without seatbelts. Parents never worried too much about their ... or about water pipes, lined with asbestos - for that matter.

On that July afternoon, Tony walked across the street and rang my doorbell. His question - "Can Paul, come out, to play?" was answered by my mom. She would check - but as she turned around, I'd already squeezed through the door and was running outside.

We walked to the back of my house, where the street ended and the field and the forest began. They'd build homes there... one day. We walked along the dusty path, until we were shaded by a cluster of large birch and maple trees. Tony reached into his pocket...

"Paul. Look what I got ," and he pulled out a brand new pack of cigarettes.

I was impressed. "Where dja' get that ?"

"I bought a pack for my dad, and I bought this pack for us. Oh... and I also got some gum too," and he waved a paper bag.

"Isn't he gonna notice something?"

"Nah... He never counts the change. He doesn't care about the candy I buy either. The only thing is, we've gotta smoke the whole pack, before he comes home from work. If my pop finds cigarettes on me, I'll be dead."

"No kidding," I thought. Tony opened the pack and we each took a cigarette. We spent the next minute, or so, just holding and smelling it. Have you ever noticed, that before you light a cigarette - it actually smells pretty good?

Tony, eventually pulled matches from his pocket... and brought one - to life. I watched, as he puffed on his cigarette... 6...or 7 times... until it was glowing and flaming a fiery red! Smoke billowed everywhere and hovered around his head, like some sort of magical cloud. I was fascinated. He passed me the matches and I did exactly ... what I'd seen him do.

My first few puffs, didn't go too well. I started coughing and choking. Tony then showed me how to inhale. He was pretty good at it, and soon... so was I. Smoke rose into the air and we watched as it floated, up to the sky, while we were under that maple tree, in that dark tinted forest. It felt really cool. We looked at each other and smiled. If only the older , could see us now.

After that first cigarette, we both felt dizzy - so we sat down, under the tree. Tony reached into his paper bag and handed me a piece of Bazooka bubble gum. For those who don't know - Bazooka gum came out in 1945, and was wrapped in wax paper, with a printed cartoon called - Bazooka Joe. We sat there reading and then we exchanged wrappers. I don't know if they still sell Bazooka gum. I haven't seen it. I really don't think it was the best name for a ' bubble gum... was it?

Even before, we'd chewed all the flavor from the gum - Tony had pulled, another 2 cigarettes, out of the pack, and looked at me... with concern.

"Paul... Go get your brother. We're gonna n.eed help. There's another 18 cigarettes in this pack."

I was only 9... but if I'd known how to swear, I would have said something like: "Are you fucking kidding me... 18 cigarettes? We're never going to finish that whole, fucking pack, before your dad gets home."

What I said instead was - " My brother's only 6...he doesn't know how to smoke."

"Neither did you until 5 minutes ago. And he's always bugging us to play with him. Well... now he'll get his chance."

Tony had a point. "Ok... I'll go get him." Before long - Johnny - my little brother, was eagerly running behind me, up to the tree where Tony stood... waiting. Little Johnny was happy to be with us. He was even happier, when Tony gave him a cigarette. He showed him how to hold it. I showed him how to puff it, without choking. What are older brothers for - right?

We sat there, under that old maple tree; the three of us... smoking our lungs out. In between cigarettes, Tony would hand us each, another Bazooka. After the third... or was it the forth cigarette... we started to loose interest in that whole smoking thing. Our throats were burning and the novelty was wearing off. My little brother, had almost thrown up, at least twice, but the trooper that he was - he never gave up.

Tony eventually, started lighting up his cigarettes... two at a time, and held them in both his hands. I laughed as I watched him take a puff from one, and then from the other. Of course, I did the same thing. My little brother held steady and gently puffed, on his cigarette. He was doing his part. At some point we struggled (in vane), to blow smoke rings. Tony figured it would take at least, another couple of packs, before we'd get good enough to do that. I agreed. My little brother didn't say anything - he was turning greenish.

Many years later... I realized, there was a certain satisfaction I'd get, in blowing that perfect smoke ring. If you've never tried it... I guess you wouldn't know.

After what seemed like forever - we got to the last cigarette and actually tried to savor it. At that moment... Tony's mother started hollering his name, in the distance. It was dinner time. His dad was home. Tony threw me the empty cigarette pack.

"Paul... here... burry this thing somewhere. I've gotta go. Oh, and here ... take some more gum. I'll see you after supper... maybe. Ok ?"

I took the gum and waved to Tony as he ran off. My little brother Johnny, butt out his cigarette - just like a pro - and then... leaned up against the tree. Who knew if he was dizzy... but I was still proud of the little guy! Slowly we chewed our gum, and walked back home.

The next day, the doorbell rang - it was Tony. I heard him speak with my mom as I ran towards the door. "Can Paul, come out, to play?" Tony had his hands in his pockets. I only hoped his fingers weren't holding any cigarettes and... they weren't...

It was about 5 or 6 y.ears later, when I watched, as they bulldozed that maple tree: the one where Tony and my brother and I had stood - smoking. He'd moved away, a few y.ears back, but I thought about him, for a second or so. It's like that when you're a ...right ? Those memories hover for a bit - and then, they're gone... just like that puff of smoke. That's exactly what they were... memories in a puff of smoke.

© November 2018 Paul P.
Did you ever have a 'best friend' you hung out with...someone you looked forward to seeing every day?

What was your first experience with smoking a cigarette?

Yesterday I saw Tony for the first time in over 45 y.ears. I attended his funeral. He died of cancer on the 19th. It wasn't lung cancer though. He lay there peacefully ,with a smile on his face... as if he was about to share a joke. I guess I'll never know what that joke was... I.m pretty sure I would have laughed though. He always did make me laugh... I can't even say that I was really sad... more wistful than anything... as if I had missed something. You know what I mean?. .
. .
Teased... to the Edge
Posted:Nov 23, 2018 3:22 am
Last Updated:Feb 3, 2020 3:26 pm
Feathered kisses... her warm breath... he quivered... she traced his shadow with her tongue... and held him in her fingertips. So aware, of his warmth... she slowed... and paused... to admire... and then... He arched his back...

... Why had she stopped? He thought he knew... But preferred to think... was she taking another breath? Was she... really aware... of what she was doing... or...

Yes... of course SHE knew. She was completely... in control...and just playing a game... Pondering when... she would resume...Wondering if...

...He would NOT ask... or so he told himself... or so he hoped ... he held on... Until...

Her tongue lashed out and clasped him... between her lips.. trapping him... considering... and as she did... her options. Was it too much......for him to handle... ? As...

... He took another moment... to think. To hold himself back... He grasped the sheets... Should he... plead with her... Or...

"Stop" She thought... or pause. Was he deserving of a quicker release...? Or was he worthy... for more of her time.. Worthy of her fucking lust? Yet... when...

...He tried to look, into her eyes... he couldn't - as she'd covered them with a feather. He was blind... to her flickering touch... her gentle kisses... as they fell upon him... arousing him... consuming him... Bliss so near.. and the edge of ecstasy... so close... to revealing itself... "Just let me come please.... " he thought...and then she whispered... into his ear...

"Don't reach for it... let it come to you. Let it come to you... my love. You'll feel it... so much more ! "

... And She kissed him there... and he waited... biting his lip as he did. He knew that...

SHE knew best for him, as she kissed him again... and felt his heart pulse through her lips... She watched as he moved... as he dripped... his excitement onto her tongue... It was his time... she sensed... as ...

... He felt that wave... approach... That numbness, his sense of smell lost.. and that familiar... tingle...his body was hers and ...

She'd promised him that shiver... and she felt him... so close... to a release... but not... just yet... It was toward the edge... that she'd lead him... and that's exactly... where she'd wanted to... bring him... wanted him to stay ... and where...

... He hovered ... floating... his mind.. and body... begging her to continue... yet... silent... motionless... except for his manhood... which throbbed for her touch... and ...

She smiled... and blew another warm breadth.. on him and.. pushed him away.. with the tips of her fingers... He didn't deserve it... not just yet...

... He thought... composing himself... twitching with no control... over the beat... he steadied himself for...

Her next assault would it be her last. "Pity.. " She laughed... "No pity... None at all !" He had played the same game with... her...

... "Last night" , he thought... This was her revenge... He smiled to himself... and realized why he loved her... so much...

She thought.. Just once more... I'll taste him... and then I'll let him come... perhaps... so she opened her mouth and ...swallowed him... as...

... a moan escaped his throat... he grasped her hair in his fingers and thrust... his hips forward. He gave himself to her...

HE was hers... and SHE knew... She would inhale him... one more time... and THAT ... would prove it!

© November 2018 Paul P.
Has anyone here had any fun with edging ? What do you think, is it for you?
Or for an easier question...
Do you like meatloaf?

Seriously .... Yep.. Meatloaf is good. And so is edging. On any given day... I'll take either one... Unless I haven't had lunch - then I'll have meatloaf. .. .

. .
Strip Club Dancer - The Lovely Chantal
Posted:Nov 21, 2018 1:16 am
Last Updated:Jun 10, 2020 6:43 pm
One of the perks of working for a large corporation is the expense account they gave me. Apparently, I'm supposed to use it to entertain when they come into town. So when Mike and Robbert flew in from Idaho, and asked me to take them to one of this city's infamous strip clubs, I obviously had no choice - right ?

We had a nice enough meal at a downtown rib place, and then headed to one of those thriving clubs. It was a short walk and before I knew it, those two guys were diving for ringside seats. We were seated just in time, to hear the melodic and energetic introduction of the Lovely Chantal. She strutted onto the stage. The music was loud. The stunning Chantal, was obviously, a passionate and agile dancer. Mike and Robert, both agreed - she had talent. I ordered a round of drinks.

I was the designated driver, but my guests had no such restrictions. Wouldn't you know it? They were thirsty - real thirsty. As I ordered another round, we were introduced to Exotic Natasha, and then Vivacious Veronica. The boys timed their next order with the arrival of the Luscious Lelisia. Halfway through her set, Mike leaned over, and yelled into my ear.

"Hey Paul. How's about we get one of those booths. You know - those private booths over there." he said, pointing to a cluster of black leather benches at the back."I wanna get a lap dance. OK ? We don't have 'em in Idaho."

Little known fact - this city, invented the lap dance over 30 years ago. I have the scattered memories of my brother's stag party to prove it. Anyway... off we all trudged, over to those booths. Mike and Robert needed some help carrying their drinks. I was fine. I'd ordered a Shirley Temple (as a joke), and it was poured into a huge fishbowl. Even as it slushed around, I never spilled a drop. Mike smiled when he was put on a waiting list - for the Lovely Chantal.

It was wasn't much quieter at our new vantage point. We were barely able to hear ourselves talk. Mike was trying to make a point, as he bellowed at Robert across the table.

"... so he was the very first person ever, on social media... He created it all !"

"WHO created WHAT?" Robert yelled back at Mike.

"I said... Jesus was the first person, to start this whole, social media craze. Listen... he had three followers, before he was even BORN... for fucks sake ! "

Mike had a point. Robert was confused. I ordered another round of drinks.

By the time Chantal eventually showed up, Mike's head was nestled into his forearms, resting on the table and Robert, was in the bathroom... again. I noticed that Chantal was not only beautiful, but she smelled really good. She leaned over towards me and asked...

"Who's the dance for?"

"This guy, " I pointed. "But I don't think he's awake. I guess you can dance for me."

At that moment, Mike lifted his head, and smiled. Chantal smiled back, and waited for the music to begin. We found out she was a pre-med student, and was putting her brother and sister through private school, while supporting her grandparents. "Right... " I thought to myself. " No shit ! Go figure..."

I have to admit, watching someone else, get a lap dance, is pretty weird. I mean, all her focus was on Mike - and I was this, uninvited guest. I'd describe what went on, but you probably know. She groped him and he groped her and Mike smiled a lot. Then before you knew it...a couple of three songs later, Chantal was taking his money and thanking him.

Robert showed up, just as Chantal was leaving. He grabbed her arm, and tried to coax her to dance, for just one more song. I pulled him away, before we all got kicked outta the place. Then, even though I tried to stop them, they both ordered more drinks. Things kinda spiraled outta control at that point.

Somehow... Mike lost his cell phone and became totally frantic and Robert disappeared... somewhere by the bar. We later found him sitting in a bathroom stall... trying to sober up. We never found Mike's phone, and we looked everywhere. I can tell you that, crawling on our hands and knees on that clean carpeted floor, in almost pitch black conditions - was a LOT of fun !

I think it was around three in the morning, when we all left. My car was parked within a short walking distance of the club - but we ended up taking a cab. No way could I handle both of them. The doorman at their hotel, helped me ease them into the elevator. What a night ! They had really tied one on and I was a passenger, along for the ride. Oh well ... the lengths we go to for , right?

Robert gingerly stepped into the conference room the next morning, looking green. And wouldn't you know it? The club had called Mike at his hotel, to tell him they'd found his cell phone. All things considered, it was a pretty interesting evening. But one, that I really... wouldn't want to repeat... very often.

After work, I asked the boys if they wanted to go out again. Robert still looked greenish and politely declined. Mike looked at me and whispered...

"I'm gonna go back to the club. I think Chantal's working again tonight."

I looked at him and shook my head.

I got a phone call at around 2 o'clock in the morning. It was Mike's cell . I answered, but no one answered back. In the background I heard muffled music, and what sounded like - the introduction of a dancer at a strip club. I listened to the music for a bit. It was a song that I liked. That new one... by Ariana Grande. Have you heard it?

I laid my head on my pillow , closed my eyes and wondered - would Mike make the morning flight, or would there be another tale, of the Lovely Chantal?

© November 2018 Paul P.
Do (did) you ever go to strip clubs ? Who's crazier - the women at the male strip clubs, or the men at the woman's strip clubs?

The sensual, erotic details of what it's like to get a lap dance... are definitely worthy of a story... and I'll share one with you... soon...

Today is 'National Tie One On Day'... (I don't make this stuff up.)
My days of tying one on, never really started. We'd party but rarely to the point of oblivion.... I think. Or rarely ... 😶
. .
. .
Man Up and Be Strong
Posted:Nov 19, 2018 1:22 am
Last Updated:May 4, 2019 1:52 pm
He slowly crossed the street, pulling a rickety metal shopping cart. It looked as if all of his life's possessions, were piled high in that stack of stuff. It seemed to me, almost impossible to balance - yet he managed the cracks and bumps in the road, with a determined effort. The light was red, and it waited for him, until he reached the other side. When he got there... he turned, and glared at me.

It's true (that just seconds before), I had come to a tire screeching stop - just to avoid crushing him. I didn't know he'd intentionally ignore the rules. It didn't dawn on me that he couldn't care less. Or... perhaps... he just knew I would stop. been told I have compassionate eyes. I looked at him and gave him a thumbs up. "You survived another close call, buddy," I thought.

His tattered winter jacket covered up a dirty grey hoody which was draped over a pair of shabby green pants. I couldn't see his shoes. It was a cold day and the brisk wind pushed the pieces of his prized possessions to and fro, if you can imagine. As I turned the car, he'd already thrust his way along the sidewalk and was making swift progress a short distance ahead of me. And then I noticed... the wind had stolen something from him.

It fluttered and flew into my windshield and lay there, snagged on the edge of my wiper. It was a photograph. The truck behind me, blared it's horn, as soon as I got out of my car. I ran quickly over to the passenger side and grabbed that picture, before it could fly away again. I looked at it... There, on a perfect summer's day, was a man and his wife, with their two small , and a pair of grand parents - I presumed. They were all standing under the shade of a giant willow tree. The shopping cart man hadn't yet noticed his loss...

"Mister...! Hey mister! You lost something...!"

He stopped in his tracks and turned around. It must have been a shock, to see a stranger holding a piece of his property. He ran towards me and before I could extend my arm - he snatched what belonged to him, from my fingers. Clutching it with tremored hands, he looked at the faded picture and then back at me.

"This here's a picture of me and my wife and ... and those are my parents. My brother took this shot up north, at his place. It's the only one I have. It's all I have left... it's proof... I had a family once... " and his voice trailed off. He looked at me and nodded as he clutched that photograph close to his chest. It might have been from the blustery wind, but his eyes watered as he wiped them with his dusty sleeve. "Thank you sir. Thanks for stopping and... and catching this for me."

Before I could say anything he'd already turned and began running back to his cart. I would have watched him longer, but the trucker behind me had places to go and I was growing deaf, from his impatience. Don't you just love the sheer, terrifying power, of a truck's air horn?

I never saw where the shopping cart man went yesterday, but coincidentally, I.m still thinking about him. I don't have much in common with that man, but today, we share something. It's International Men's Day - a day for all men everywhere on the planet. A day where we celebrate positive male role models and promote awareness of prostate cancer and men's mental health issues. To be totally honest though, I wouldn't have known what day it was, if it hadn't popped up on Google. How else WOULD I know ? No one sent me a card. Don't worry about me though, I'll man up and be strong. I never received a card last year either . . . and I got over it.

The shopping cart man ... the one I almost hit with my car...? I don't think he knows what day it is. Even if he did... I don't think he'd really give a shit. Do you ?

I could have picked a more positive role model to highlight this day... but this man.. he was stuck in my mind...For me, he highlights the n.eed for more help for men, with all the issues they face..
© November 2018 Paul P.. .
.. .
It's Pretty Simple, If You Think About It
Posted:Nov 15, 2018 1:16 am
Last Updated:Jun 10, 2020 6:42 pm
You just never know, when you'll hear random words of wisdom - they can pop up anywhere.

Usually my workday ends, with a visit to the local coffee shop. I order a medium cup, of really good, dark roasted Columbian. The people working at that place know me, and I know them. It's relaxed, and it kind of puts a lustre on my day. You know what I mean?

This guy Thomas, was working behind the counter yesterday. I've gotten to know him pretty well. I actually met him, his wife and his three , this past summer. I was down by the lake, and it was completely by accident...

Someone was grilling that day and it smelled, soo... good. I just had to follow the smoke. I.m nosy, so I walked over to where that barbecue was. When I saw it was Thomas, my coffee guy, I was surprised. He offered me a beer and we shared a bunch of laughs. Oh... and his wife gave me a taste of the meat she was grilling. Man... it was fantastic! Have you ever savored, really good... barbecued lamb?

Anyway, Thomas moved to this city from Ethiopia... just last year. He was a teacher over there, but he's still trying to get accredited - over here. While he studies for his exams, he works at the coffee shop, doling out coffee - one cup... at a time.

And that's where I was... waiting in line. The lady in front of me must have been having a really bad day. I could see she was getting totally frustrated. She was rummaging through her purse, looking for her wallet and practically ripped that thing in half - trying to find it. She deffinitely surprised everyone there, when she started yelling.

"I can't find my wallet. What else is gonna go wrong? What's it... all... ABOUT?"

"Its about finding your and paying, so we can get the fuck out of here lady!" I could have answered.

Thomas looked at her, and quietly spoke first.

"What's it all about? It's about finding someone to love. Finding someone who loves you. Making a family and loving them. That's, what it's all about."

She looked at Thomas and said nothing. I guess she found her wallet, because she paid and walked out. It was my turn.

" Hey Thomas ... How's it going? "

" Always good Paul... Always good", he smiled.

And you know what? I believed him. He handed me my perfect cup of coffee - two creams, one su.gar. It's pretty simple... if you think about it.

© November 2018 Paul P.
I just posted a humorous story you might enjoy - Kinky Sex Or Vanilla Ice Cream 
What type of positive thought or mantra, motivates you throughout your day?

Thomas served me grilled lamb and it was tasty and delicious. But my favorite fire prepped food is BBQ chicken. What's yours?

Have a great day. Clean out your fridge, from time to time. . .
. .
How To Make Love To A Woman : The To-do List
Posted:Nov 12, 2018 1:04 am
Last Updated:Nov 30, 2020 3:46 am
To-Do Lists exist about everything but I was surprised to read one describing - How To Make Love To A Woman. My quirky buddy Frank, came over yesterday and showed it to me.

I hadn't seen Frank in a while , so he filled me in on what he'd been up to. Frank had joined an adult sex hookup site called : FOGCAF, (Friends OF Good Clean Adulterous Fun), his username is FrankeeZee and he was having a great time !

Frank told me he soon realized, that working during the day, was going to impact his ability to meet with the women on that site, so he quit his day job and took night employment, as a janitor. That freed him up to perv and chat with the women online. He wasn't getting laid yet, but he happily admitted to masturbating 9 or 10 times a day - obviously improving his cardio, in the process. The only downside (he claimed), was that he was recently diagnosed with a strained ligament in his left wrist. I knew he was right handed, so out of curiosity (and because I could), I asked him why he used his left hand.

"Because Paul... then... it feels like someone else is holding it ."

I made a mental note. After he'd paused for a second, I asked him if he was at least closer, to having sex with someone from that website. Ironically, Frank then told me about the woman he'd met (off-site), at the local supermarket.

Shortly after the first time they'd been intimate, this woman presented him with a To Do List, on how to make love to her. He thought he'd done a great job, but evidently... she disagreed.

He pulled a folded piece of paper out of his knapsack and showed me the To-do List. It read like this:
5 min - Gentle soft kissing
7 min - Deep passionate kissing
1 min - Let's take off our clothes
8 min - Gentle body massages and caressing of my breasts
5 min - Exploration of my woman bits with your fingers
7 min - More fun with my woman bits using 'toys'
8 min - Visiting my woman bits with your mouth and tongue
I am now ready for penetration.

"Wow ! That's a crazy detailed list ! And she wrote it down for you ?" I exclaimed looking at it. "So... what did you do Frank ?"

"I did what any verile, proud man would do. I read it and realized that I would have to ramp things up. I went to the erotic store and bought the 'Deluxe Pleasure Kit' - you know... 5 assorted vibrators and dildos plus the scented lube," he grinned proudly. "Oh... and they threw in a $10 coupon for a discount at the car wash. Hey... go figure !"

I nodded approvingly. It sounded like a good deal.

"Then I gift wrapped it, and presented it to her, along with a little handwritten note."

"Ooo... What did she say?"

" Well, she came over to my place a couple of Sundays ago, just before the start of the New England Patriots game. And she was really thrilled - with that whole gift thing. But then... she read what I wrote. "

'Eeeee... What did you write ?"

"My message to her was simple.
'Let me know when you're ready for me.'
I figured... I could probably watch most of the first half - until she was. "

"Oh man... how did that work out ?" I asked, while wincing.

"Not so good. She kept the dildos and the vibrators, as a parting gift. But hey... the Patriots won!" Frank looked at me smiling.

Frank is a funny guy... It was late in the afternoon and he had to get to work. I.m sure he'll have another story to tell me next time.

© November 2018 Paul P.
Do you manage your busy days and lives with 'To-do Lists', on a scrap of paper, a computer, a phone... on tiny 'post its' or... do you just wing it?

What are your thoughts about Frank's 'To-Do list' ?

BTW - Nov 12 is "National Pizza With The Works Except Anchovies Day". I don't make this stuff up. My favorite is : tomato sauce, cheese, pepperoni, green peppers, mushrooms - PLUS bacon, onions and olives. . .
.. .
My Burgundy Rocket
Posted:Nov 8, 2018 12:50 am
Last Updated:Jun 10, 2020 6:45 pm
A recent blog post by Platosgames got me thinking about a time, when I was ... and a little wilder...
When I was in my mid twenties, I liked to drive fast cars and I scored a big time perk with the company that I was working for - they gave me a brand new car !  What a thrill, and to add to it, they let ME,  pick the car that I wanted. Of course they also gave me a budget, meaning the car I chose, was not  going to be a Porsche ; but I didn't n.eed a Porsche. Honda had a certain five speed (manual shift) sports car -  and that would suffice !  And so - that is exactly, what I picked up from the dealership, on that chilly, autumn night.

It was very late when I finally got home. I leapt up the stairs, into the bedroom and stood there - out of breath. The lights were still on and Lynn was about to go to sleep. She sat on the edge of the bed , wearing the pink babydoll pyjamas, that I'd bought her. Lynn looked at me with that loving smile of hers; the one she always reserved for me, when I came home. She didn't know that I had picked up the new car, but she could see I was happy and she knew something was up.

"So... ? Did you get it?"

"Yeah... It's downstairs in the garage. Let's go for a drive."

"Seriously? I.m in my pyjamas and ready for bed Paul," she teased in her fake fatigued voice.

"Come on Lynn. Put your pants over your pj's and let's go !"

I looked at her and waited, with my hands on my hips.

She laughed, jumped out of bed and slipped on a pair of jeans and a shirt. We were bounding down the stairs, into the garage in seconds. When she first saw the car, she gasped.

'Wow...! Wow... ! "

Was all she said. The car, a sexy, sloped-back, deep burgundy, 2 door coupe - shimmered in the flourescent lights of it's berth. Wide sport tires, were mounted on polished chromed rims. That car looked fast, parked just where it was. 

The engine spun to life with a guttural roar, as I turned the key. The sound system was clean and loud, the subwoofers were pure and thumped deep into my chest; and I had a beautiful lady sitting next to me. I looked at Lynn, who was smiling ear to ear, (her blue green eyes twinkling ) and I smiled back at her. I was content; I was in my tiny piece of paradise. As I pulled into the highway, I kept the car in third gear and just opened it up. The sheer, force of the acceleration pulled us back, deep into our bucket seats.

We rocketed into three lanes of open road - not a car in sight. Third gear took me all the way past 85 mph... then I shifted into fourth...  and then fifth gear. I had never driven a car that fast, in my life. I was almost afraid to look at the speedometer; the car just kept speeding up with no hesitation or struggle at all. The road itself, became a blur as I held onto that rigid steering wheel. The needle, eventually pointed to 1.20 mph ... or perhaps more. I thought I might be scaring Lynn, so I looked at her and asked.

" Lynn... you ok babe? I.m not freaking you out, a.m I?"

"No...  It's all good Paul. You're the driver ... I trust you."

We were fortunate we didn't run into any other cars on that late night escapade. We just drove out of the city and aimlessly into the darkness,  listening to the radio - mesmerized by speed and hypnotized by the smell, of a new car. It was an experience I would never forget. Occasionally, I am reminded of my adventure with Lynn, by - of all people - other drivers. Last night ...

...I was heading home alone, along the highway, when I was surprised by the obnoxiously brilliant headlights of a car that had roared up (from nowhere), right behind my bumper... literally feet away ! I was in the left passing lane doing a measley 75 mph. He flashed his hi-beams. It was a signal to get out of his way.  I looked in my rear view mirror and held my car in that left lane for a couple, or perhaps three seconds longer,  before I moved right. He then pulled up alongside me and matched my speed. I turned to look - it was that new, silver, Subaru WRX.

The driver (a, who looked to be in his twenties),  had an attractive girl sitting in the passenger seat beside him. He turned to glare at me,  saluted me (facetiously),  downshifted twice (I heard the shifts), and then...  just ripped it ! The car literally flew into the distance !  I thought to myself ,"What a jerk !", but then I paused and thought for another second. I was once a jerk, just like that in the Subaru . I smiled to myself and watched wistfully and with a touch of envy, as that silver car, with the and his girlfriend in it... just disappeared.

© November 2018 Paul P.
Do you wear pyjamas to bed, do you sleep naked, or what ?

By the way, I don't condone fast driving. When we are young we do some stupid things. And what I (allegedly) did was very stupid and irresponsible This story is as much about the chances we take in life as it is about how we mature, over time and our desire to remain forever young..
And hey - for any reading this story - DON'T SPEED !

I did like fast cars though... Anyone else have a love for fast cars?
. .
. .
Handcuffs Or Silk Scarves
Posted:Nov 5, 2018 12:10 am
Last Updated:Jun 10, 2020 6:49 pm
"Bishop to Queen's Rook 4... Checkmate ! " I declared, while grinning at her.

Lynn stared at the chess board, looked across the table at me, smiled... and blinked. Several seconds passed before she finally, tipped her 'King' over and surrendered. Slowly, she stood up, and pushed her chair aside. She knew what was expected of her. Playfully... she turned her back to me and plunged her thumbs into the sides of her white lace panties... gently tugging them, down her thighs, and along her legs.  She angled her supple body until, she was completely bent over, revealing all of herself - to me. I thought I saw something twitch. 

Having removed that final garment,  she twirled back around, to measure my reaction. Her wide smile and perky breasts, beamed at me.

"Why am I the only one who is naked... Paul? What other rules are there, in this game of yours?" Lynn's blue green eyes, sparkled as she giggled.

I thought for a second or two. 

"Turn around again? I want to look at you in this light."

Lynn turned slowly, clockwise... her arms floating, by her sides. 

"Wait... Stop... Stop right there. Don't move. Don't move a muscle!"

Once again, her back faced me. I got up from my chair, and approached her from the rear. My hands met her silky thighs and traced their outlines to her hips and then down across her belly where my fingers came to rest, fluttering and caressing her, just above a place where I knew - she loved to be touched. She raised herself on her tiny toes, arched her neck to the left - and read my mind... as her lips... met mine... with a passionate kiss. 'Damn... she was hot ! '

As our lips parted, she quickly turned around and began fumbling, with the belt on my pants. I swiftly, caught both her wrists and held them steady.

"No Lynn. The rest of this game, is going to be played in the bedroom. Go lie on the bed ... I'll be right there," I kissed her softly and released her. 

Lynn gleefully, ran towards the bedroom. 

"Do I get the handcuffs, or are we just going to use the silk scarves this time?" she shouted from down the hallway.

'Good question.', I thought. I just wasn't sure. It was the toughest question, Lynn had asked me... all day.

© November 2018 Paul P.
Do you like to play board games 🎲 or card games 🃏 or 'games' 💏 of any sort; or has the art of playing games died ?
Solitaire on the computer - counts ! Does anyone still play that game? . .

FYI Today is National Donut Day. For me it is chocolate or honey glazed. Yes... I love donuts.
. .

To link to this blog (Paulxx001) use [blog Paulxx001] in your messages.

 Paulxx001 64M
64 M
January 2022
Sun Mon Tue Wed Thu Fri Sat

Recent Visitors

Visitor Age Sex Date
author51 59F1/16
bttm4cok2use  62M1/16
28shyblueyes  59M1/16
BeccaLuvs  59F1/16
GhostofH  62M1/15
Randee_69  55M1/15
westcountygirl  55/48C1/15
Damnsheshott 54/32C1/15
nude_emmanuelle  67/58C1/15