If I hadn't been afraid, or too conservative . . .

[MilkFountain]

How many times in my life have I missed a chance for mind-blowing intimacy, because fear paralysed me? The girl on the bus, repeatedly staring at me, a smile in her eyes. The one I was giving a massage, who stretched the length of her body upward between my legs, so that the top of her head pressed meaningfully into my crotch and she smiled up at me. The girl who pushed her bottom to my crotch on a crowded subway train as one station after another passed. The one who kissed my neck as we danced in a late night club in Marrakech . . .

 

[Sir Victor]

Never too late ....

 

[MilkFountain]

Yes . . .

Never too late ....

The whole point is that it was too late, bringing poignant nostalgia and regret.

 

[quietlylooking]

The whole point is that, yes, it was too late, making it poignant, bringing painfully nostalgic regret.

But there is aching beauty in the memory, in the what-might-have-beens.

 

[MilkFountain]

Right you are!

But there is aching beauty in the memory, in the what-might-have-beens.

You're so right . . .

What memories sometimes plague you?

 

[paulw128]

What memories sometimes plague you?[/QUOTE]

Mine I feel were missed opportunities. In my late teens, only my younger sister and I were home with our parents. If I had been a little less shy and more confident, I would've suggested we help each other by exploring each other's bodies.

With my mom, there were many instances of me being undressed and erect in front of her and she never seemed to mind. I'll never know what her thoughts were back then but again, if I had been a bit more forward with her, it would've been very easy to ask her to help me with my "problem" and what to do about it.

I have never experienced family fun but I have spoken to many people on Lit who have had and who continue to have amazing, beautiful, loving relationships with family members. After all, who better to help us understand our bodies and sexuality than our own loving parents!!

Paul

 

[Erosfan]

But there is aching beauty in the memory, in the what-might-have-beens.

You are so right.
I look back at many great experiences with no regret whatsoever.

My biggest regrets are the "what-might-have-beens". I have way more of those than great experiences.

 

[MilkFountain]

"Surrounded by beautiful, curious, breathing, laughing flesh is enough"

You are so right.
I look back at many great experiences with no regret whatsoever.

My biggest regrets are the "what-might-have-beens". I have way more of those than great experiences.

You and QUIETLOOKING say it all. We all suffer those might-have-beens . . .

Someone said, "Women are sitting there just waiting to be jumped."

If only we had fully recognized those moments when they presented themselves. Too embarrassed to kiss her again after she'd flinched when I impulsively kissed my dinner guest on the mouth, I apologised and didn't try again, even though in response to my embarrassment she'd said, "No, no, I was just surprised".

But I did "help" my live-in girlfriend's best friend when she felt lonely and depressed.
I did hold out my arms to gather in the lonely girl at the airport, who just wanted "to be held".

I did recently say in front of everyone at a party to the many decades younger and most beautiful girl among so many nearly equal beauties there, whose challenging, promise-flashing eyes and ceaselessly repositioning arms, legs and body gracefully said to all who couldn't take their eyes off her that she was burnt by need, "If I were just a year younger, I'd be all over you". And she said, "You don't have to be even a minute younger". I spent the night with her, to the envy and astonishment of dozens of handsome and athletic but more timid men fifty years my junior, who had danced with her and determinedly hit on her throughout the evening.

Yes, although I had so little to do with it, I'm proud that I at least jumped without a parachute through the plane's door -- through possible censor, humiliation and my own awareness of how ridiculous I might at my age be seen by all, especially myself -- and into the void, landing in the arms and body of a woman joyously embracing her hormonal receptivity. Ovulation in full spate, afloat in oxytocin, eyes flashing, nipples and labia inflamed, ears eager for any word of encouragement, on hearing mine, first to fall, she hurried me aboard.

As Walt Whitman said in "I sing the body Electric":
"To be surrounded by beautiful, curious, breathing, laughing flesh is enough," And against all reason, for having been bold enough where others hung back, raging erections unheeded, I have the other kind of memory . . .

 

[quietlylooking]

You're so right . . .

What memories sometimes plague you?

I can think of several of them.

One that plagues me was when a friend came to visit for a meeting in the city where I had recently moved. We didn't know each other that well, but did know each other through my ex-boyfriend. We were both unattached at the time of his visit.

I said he was welcome to stay at my house, that I had a spare bedroom. We went out the evening he arrived, had some drinks, and stayed up too late talking.

I remember wanting so much to be seduced, but I think he was shy about it too. We both ended up going to bed separately. I was so aroused, and came so close to going to his room. So close. But I didn't.

The next morning was kind of awkward, it seemed to me, and he left town later that day.

 

[dacoach44]

Faint heart never won fair lady."

You and QUIETLOOKING say it all. We all suffer those might-have-beens . . .

Someone said, "Women are sitting there just waiting to be jumped."

If only we had fully recognized those moments when they presented themselves. Too embarrassed to kiss her again after she'd flinched when I impulsively kissed my dinner guest on the mouth, I apologised and didn't try again, even though in response to my embarrassment she'd said, "No, no, I was just surprised".

But I did "help" my live-in girlfriend's best friend when she felt lonely and depressed.
I did hold out my arms to gather in the lonely girl at the airport, who just wanted "to be held".

I did recently say in front of everyone at a party to the many decades younger and most beautiful girl among so many nearly equal beauties there, whose challenging, promise-flashing eyes and ceaselessly repositioning arms, legs and body gracefully said to all who couldn't take their eyes off her that she was burnt by need, "If I were just a year younger, I'd be all over you". And she said, "You don't have to be even a minute younger". I spent the night with her, to the envy and astonishment of dozens of handsome and athletic but more timid men fifty years my junior, who had danced with her and determinedly hit on her throughout the evening.

Yes, although I had so little to do with it, I'm proud that I at least jumped without a parachute through the plane's door -- through possible censor, humiliation and my own awareness of how ridiculous I might at my age be seen by all, especially myself -- and into the void, landing in the arms and body of a woman joyously embracing her hormonal receptivity. Ovulation in full spate, afloat in oxytocin, eyes flashing, nipples and labia inflamed, ears eager for any word of encouragement, on hearing mine, first to fall, she hurried me aboard.

As Walt Whitman said in "I sing the body Electric":
"To be surrounded by beautiful, curious, breathing, laughing flesh is enough," And against all reason, for having been bold enough where others hung back, raging erections unheeded, I have the other kind of memory . . .

All she can say is "no."

 

[MilkFountain]

I can think of several of them.

One that plagues me was when a friend came to visit for a meeting in the city where I had recently moved. We didn't know each other that well, but did know each other through my ex-boyfriend. We were both unattached at the time of his visit.

I said he was welcome to stay at my house, that I had a spare bedroom. We went out the evening he arrived, had some drinks, and stayed up too late talking.

I remember wanting so much to be seduced, but I think he was shy about it too. We both ended up going to bed separately. I was so aroused, and came so close to going to his room. So close. But I didn't.

The next morning was kind of awkward, it seemed to me, and he left town later that day.

Wow, well written. Any reader would think, "Been there, done that, and how it haunts m!"

Yes, he was too shy, too polite and too much of a gentleman. More's the pity!

Having been left by his wife, a dear friend came to stay with my wife and me for a long weekend. He was drinking heavily, morose and clearly getting worse. But we both noticed her effect on him and in bed that first night my wife and I eventually talked about his painfully apparent, resigned and hopeless longing for physical comfort. That became nakedly apparent at dinner his last night with us. She had gone out of her way to dress beautifully for him, but instead of cheering him, he became more withdrawn.

That night, worried about our friend, my wife and I talked about him a long time. Once we agreed, she went to him, stood beside his bed in the dark guest room, drew her nighty off over her head, lifted his covers and slipped naked in beside him. When she came back to me, she had him in tow, and we three, she between us, slept until some time before dawn. I awoke to her making love to him, not he to her. He kept in touch with us, from email by email and in phonecalls, relating his recovery. He thanked both of us many times, and remains a friend.

You would have also done your friend an enormous favor, as well as yourself. Thanks

 

[quietlylooking]

Wow, well written. Any reader would think, "Been there, done that, and how it haunts m!"

Yes, he was too shy, too polite and too much of a gentleman. More's the pity!

Having been left by his wife, a dear friend came to stay with my wife and me for a long weekend. He was drinking heavily, morose and clearly getting worse. But his attraction for my wife brightened him and we both noticed her effect on him and his resigned and hopeless longing for physical comfort, especially at dinner of his last night with us.

My wife and I talked about him a long time when we went to bed. She went to him, stood beside his bed in the guest room, drew her nighty off over her head, lifted his covers and slipped in beside him. She came back to me, with him in tow, and we three slept until pre-dawn. She made love to him, not he to her, and he kept in touch with us, bit by bit, email by email, relating his recovery. He thanked both of us many times, and remains a friend.

You would have also done your friend an enormous favor, as well as yourself. Thanks

That's quite a story. I'm glad he's still a friend, and that it worked out to be such a healing experience for him.

My lack of confidence was the main factor in not making a move. But in some ways... it may have been better that it didn't happen. I can imagine, have many times imagined, what might have happened, and that alone has brought me much satisfaction (more, perhaps than a single night that might have brought with it regrets).

 

[MilkFountain]

That's quite a story. I'm glad he's still a friend, and that it worked out to be such a healing experience for him.

My lack of confidence was the main factor in not making a move. But in some ways... it may have been better that it didn't happen. I can imagine, have many times imagined, what might have happened, and that alone has brought me much satisfaction (more, perhaps than a single night that might have brought with it regrets).

What a woman you are! Yes, our imaginations are often our greatest allies, a Freudian theater against reality. I wonder what he’s thought and felt, how often he’s masturbated to images of you. You know he has. I’m sure that your stimulus, however unrequited in flesh, meant a lot to him.

We were fortunate that our friend took our conjugal generosity for exactly what it was: compassion, not pity. It was prompted by loving concern. That's one time I should have done the existentially right thing, and did!

My wife and I have talked about him subsequently. Her time away from me with him, although their bed and the one I lay awake alone in were only yards away, has become an erotically inexhaustible scenario for pillow talk as a matter of foreplay. Our friend has not re-married, but he has found a significant other. When he came with her to our home again, my wife later told me that on embracing him at their arrival, the hug that was a comfortable affirmation of friendship gave way to a flash of “intense arousal”. I'd noticed that their embrace had lasted a moment longer than expected.

When we discuss our inviting him into her arms on that night not so long ago, it’s positive. We both have admitted that had we not done so, we would have regretted it. She’s admitted that although I had to “argue her into going to him”, she saw from the very first that my having suggested and pursued her comforting him, she felt – along with all her other thoughts and misgivings – that it was the right thing to do, and that once she’d heard all my arguments, releasing her from guilt, she’d become aroused. And aside from the altruistic aspect of lying with our friend, she'd wanted to. She said it had proved good for her, and we agreed it was ultimately good for me and our marriage.

 

[Astroman72]

But in some ways... it may have been better that it didn't happen. I can imagine, have many times imagined, what might have happened, and that alone has brought me much satisfaction (more, perhaps than a single night that might have brought with it regrets).

That's a good way of looking at it.

 

[MilkFountain]

Faint heart n'er won fair maid . . . Look before you leap!

All she can say is "no."

Well said!

There's a crude joke: A man out walking notices another standing on a street corner, asking each lady who passes, "Want to fuck?"

Aster seeing him slapped several times, he approaches the man and asks why. The man smiles congenially and says, "Because inevitably one out of ten says 'Yes!'"

 

[quietlylooking]

What a woman you are! Yes, our imaginations are often our greatest allies, a Freudian theater against reality. I wonder what he’s thought and felt, how often he’s masturbated to images of you. You know he has. I’m sure that your stimulus, however unrequited in flesh, meant a lot to him.

We were fortunate that our friend took our conjugal generosity for exactly what it was: compassion, not pity. It was prompted by loving concern. That's one time I should have done the existentially right thing, and did!

My wife and I have talked about him subsequently. Her time away from me with him, although their bed and the one I lay awake alone in were only yards away, has become an erotically inexhaustible scenario for pillow talk as a matter of foreplay. Our friend has not re-married, but he has found a significant other. When he came with her to our home again, my wife later told me that on embracing him at their arrival, the hug that was a comfortable affirmation of friendship gave way to a flash of “intense arousal”. I'd noticed that their embrace had lasted a moment longer than expected.

When we discuss our inviting him into her arms on that night not so long ago, it’s positive. We both have admitted that had we not done so, we would have regretted it. She’s admitted that although I had to “argue her into going to him”, she saw from the very first that I’d brought up her comforting him, she felt – along with all her other thoughts and misgivings – that it was the right thing to do, and that once she’d heard all my arguments, releasing her from guilt, she’d become aroused, and aside from the altruistic aspect of lying with our friend, she'd wanted to. She said it was good for her, and we agreed it was ultimately good for our marriage.

Honestly, I don't have any idea of whether he thought of it or not. When I'm feeling low, I imagine he thought the whole evening was uncomfortable for him, and that he was glad to leave the following day. Although the logical side of my brain tells me that I didn't do anything untoward, I didn't dress provocatively, I didn't really flirt with him overtly or do anything that should have made him feel uncomfortable. I treated him as the friend that he had been when I knew him through my ex-boyfriend. Although I did serve him coffee in my nightgown in the morning, and I know he could see more of my body then than he ever had before.

I did later confess to my ex-boyfriend that I would have liked to have been seduced when his friend visited me, and he told me he was surprised that he had not tried (and told me I should have gone for it, that he would have been up for it). Objectively, I think, he probably viewed me as a serious, "nice" girl, and he didn't want to get into a quagmire as he was a confirmed bachelor living over a thousand miles away. And he would have been right: I might have tried to romanticize it beyond a simple fuck.

I have always had a hard time imagining being a situation where I am seduced, outside of typical second or third dates where some expectation exists. There are times when I fantasize about being able to have other sexual encounters with the permission and encouragement of my partner.

 

[dacoach44]

Not so fast

Well said!

There's a crude joke: A man out walking notices another standing on a street corner, asking each lady who passes, "Want to fuck?"

Aster seeing him slapped several times, he approaches the man and asks why. The man smiles congenially and says, "Because inevitably one out of ten says 'Yes!'"

I would be neither blunt nor crude. Just tell them they are pretty and ask if you can buy them lunch or a drink. Always smile, always flatter. They are cute when they blush, and they enjoy the attention, most always.

 

[MilkFountain]

I would be neither blunt nor crude. Just tell them they are pretty and ask if you can buy them lunch or a drink. Always smile, always flatter. They are cute when they blush, and they enjoy the attention, most always.

Dacoach, I know that you're very young. Your cute and untimely gallantry here is charming. But . . .

Inappropriately trumpeting about one's gentlemanliness is oft a sign of someone who is . . .off subject, self-centered, surely disruptive to groups and difficult to communicate with one-on-one. That may be cute when you're young, but . . . (Please read what this thread is about.)

The personality that hijacks a thread or conversation to turn attention to one's self is so easily recognized. Care to try again? Talk about something germain to the thread's proposal. Then quietly sit to meditate on what you've said, while you slowly fill with curiosity about what others have to say?

 

[FGB]

I don't know about all of that shit but...

In my life I have let being a Gentleman and trying to do the right thing stop me from getting some pussy at least a half a dozen times!

And some personal cost once for sure!

 

[MilkFountain]

Another one!

fgb, read above my message to dacoach44. It applies to you, a foul-mouthed gate-crasher nobody wants.

 

[FGB]

fgb, read above my message to dacoach44. It applies to you, a foul-mouthed gate-crasher nobody wants.

Yeah.

I could go in lots of detail, ran off half a page each and romanticizing and reasoning out my actions or non actions in the encounters and most guys would have just fucked them with out thought.

I'm just pointing out out the other guy has a point.

And then, this IS Literotica what did you expect?]

Some of the best threads go off track...

Carry on people. Sorry if I disturbed you.

 

[SexyAlison]

I think we've all had those regrets at some point

 

[Massacre]

I would have taken the virginity of a girl back in high school. She had great tits but i didnt want the mess after.

 

[MilkFountain]

Yeah.

I could go in lots of detail, ran off half a page each and romanticizing and reasoning out my actions or non actions in the encounters and most guys would have just fucked them with out thought.

Well, there you go -- back on track. Why didn't you say so in the first place?

I agree. Mix mores, religion, ingrained morals and thinking too much, and you fuck less. Good point.

 

[toeskr]

I can think of several of them.

One that plagues me was when a friend came to visit for a meeting in the city where I had recently moved. We didn't know each other that well, but did know each other through my ex-boyfriend. We were both unattached at the time of his visit.

I said he was welcome to stay at my house, that I had a spare bedroom. We went out the evening he arrived, had some drinks, and stayed up too late talking.

I remember wanting so much to be seduced, but I think he was shy about it too. We both ended up going to bed separately. I was so aroused, and came so close to going to his room. So close. But I didn't.

The next morning was kind of awkward, it seemed to me, and he left town later that day.

You should have just gone for it. There is no way he would have resisted.
Lucky bastard missed the opportunity of a lifetime.