The Art of Getting Lit Laid

I will share something, a failure that I didn't know was a failure.

I consider myself an easy going guy and always asked permission before sharing pics.

But it was pointed out to me that the mere asking for that permission changes the direction and dynamic of the conversation and the other person feels pressured to say yes to the sharing just to be nice and not hurt your feelings.

Lesson learned: don't ask for permission in due time they will ask!
I didn't ask, she offered. That first picture opened a door, that now is wider and more fulfilling with every step through it.
 
The Fisherman

The sea is his companion,
and his adversary.
She pulls at him with her restless hands,
tests him with storms,
and marks his skin with salt and sun.

Through long hours he labors,
setting traps, hauling nets,
fingers cut by rope,
back bent to the mercy of the tide.
Danger walks beside him -
in sudden winds, in waves that rise too high,
in nights when the stars hide their light.

Among shrimps and crabs,
he pulls from the deep what the sea allows.
But once, the ocean gave him something rarer.
Me, he says.

And when he tells me
that I am the catch that changed the story of his sea,
I believe him -
for I see it in the way his eyes soften,
in the way his hands hold me
as if I am the one thing
that will never slip away.

He is the Fisherman -
enduring, steadfast, true.
And I am the harbor
he never knew he’d find.
 
Missionary
The first time should be missionary. To feel her body under yours. To look into her eyes while you slide inside of her . To hear her first moan . As you make that intimate connection. And the second time is cowgirl as she rides you like a animal
3rd time reverse cowgirl, with a mirror positioned so you can see from two angles.

I have always wanted to make love beneath mirrors on the ceiling but most likely that fantasy is way better than reality would be.

Hmmmm but maybe a under a disco ball....
 
Weigh in.

It's a weekly ritual and always first thing in the morning before you eat or drink so you are at your lightest.

It's silly, and it doesn't really change the trend, but every tiny edge we have available should be deployed. Imo
 
The Fisherman

The sea is his companion,
and his adversary.
She pulls at him with her restless hands,
tests him with storms,
and marks his skin with salt and sun.

Through long hours he labors,
setting traps, hauling nets,
fingers cut by rope,
back bent to the mercy of the tide.
Danger walks beside him -
in sudden winds, in waves that rise too high,
in nights when the stars hide their light.

Among shrimps and crabs,
he pulls from the deep what the sea allows.
But once, the ocean gave him something rarer.
Me, he says.

And when he tells me
that I am the catch that changed the story of his sea,
I believe him -
for I see it in the way his eyes soften,
in the way his hands hold me
as if I am the one thing
that will never slip away.

He is the Fisherman -
enduring, steadfast, true.
And I am the harbor
he never knew he’d find.
By far this is the best story you have ever written. It's the most meaningful thing I've ever read of yours. I Love it and I Love You my beautiful Care Bear
♥️ U 🐻
 
Sanctuary

These are the days you can’t stay warm -
when the rain seeps into your bones,
when the wind has teeth,
and the waters churn, rough and unkind.

On days like these, let me take you away.
Not far, not to some distant shore,
but into the shelter of my arms.
There, storms have no power.
There, cold cannot reach.

I will be your sanctuary.
The place where you can lay down the weight,
close your eyes, and breathe easy again.
With me, warmth is not a fleeting thing -
it is constant,
it is yours,
it is us.

So when the days grow harsh,
remember: you never stand against them alone.
I will take you away,
to the quiet,
to the safety,
to the home we make in each other.
 
Sanctuary

These are the days you can’t stay warm -
when the rain seeps into your bones,
when the wind has teeth,
and the waters churn, rough and unkind.

On days like these, let me take you away.
Not far, not to some distant shore,
but into the shelter of my arms.
There, storms have no power.
There, cold cannot reach.

I will be your sanctuary.
The place where you can lay down the weight,
close your eyes, and breathe easy again.
With me, warmth is not a fleeting thing -
it is constant,
it is yours,
it is us.

So when the days grow harsh,
remember: you never stand against them alone.
I will take you away,
to the quiet,
to the safety,
to the home we make in each other.
I guess you made me a liar. There is a little collection of my favorites.
Fisherman
Blue panties 💙
Pink Blanket
Sanctuary
 
Pain and Pleasure

The pleasure of seeing eyes lit
With mischief, dark desire, challenge
The pain of never knowing
When the joy might be withheld

Is it training? Discipline? Scourge?
Does my soul crave or fear the lash?
I wonder in my sleepless hours
When next will I see her eyes flash

I roll and toss, my mind awhirl
Am I pursuing dreams or dust?
Is it love or is it thrall?
And is there a chance for lust?

The pain is sweet and bitter
Borne for the sake of devotion
Love, sex and bondage
Of body, mind and emotion

The cords that bind bite deeper
Eyes covered, trust tested, nerves jangling
Nails rake lightly, then dig and tease
But still all is in balance, hanging

Will release be merciful, or harsh?
WIll my heart stand the daily test?
But I already know the answer
For her, I’ll forsake all the rest
 
Bless you Carmina. It's probably not all that popular a position, but the deep impact position is the best for allowing me to caress and possess both her breasts and her ass while plumbing her sex to it's very depths, but also affording a handy... um... anchor for when I lose my mind and all I can do is pump my pelvis deep into her.
 
Bless you Carmina. It's probably not all that popular a position, but the deep impact position is the best for allowing me to caress and possess both her breasts and her ass while plumbing her sex to it's very depths, but also affording a handy... um... anchor for when I lose my mind and all I can do is pump my pelvis deep into her.
I mean, when you put it like that, even I want to experience it....
 
The Sea King and the Storyteller

Long ago, when mortals still feared the deep, Neptune ruled the seas with a crown of coral and storms. To sailors, he was terror. To kingdoms, he was myth. To himself, he was loneliness bound by endless tides.

Far above, in a quiet village by the shore, lived a mortal girl with nothing but books. She was poor in coin but rich in worlds. Every evening she sat on the rocks and read her tales aloud, her voice spilling into the salt wind.

Neptune heard her.
At first, he thought her words were spells, for they stirred the ocean more deeply than moon or storm. But they were only stories - stories of heroes, wanderers, lovers who lost and found each other again. And Neptune, ancient as he was, felt something he had long forgotten: wonder.

Night after night he rose from the waves, unseen, to listen. The girl did not know she was speaking to a god; she thought she was only telling stories to the sea. Yet each word unraveled his solitude, each tale became an anchor to her mortal world.

At last, he could bear it no longer. He rose before her, vast as the tide, crowned in foam and flame. “Why do you speak to the sea?” he thundered.

Startled, she dropped her book - but then she laughed softly. “Because the sea listens,” she said.

And in that moment, the might of Neptune broke. For no mortal had ever dared to answer him with such truth.

He came to her again, not with storms but with silence, to hear her stories. And she, unafraid, read to him of kings and beggars, of loves lost and found, until he realized he was not the god in her tales, but the man she had unknowingly loved into being.

He asked her once: “Would you come below the waves, to a kingdom without books, without sun, without breath?”

She shook her head gently. “No, my place is here. But you may come to me, and I will give you stories as long as the tides endure.”

So Neptune learned to walk upon the shore. And the girl who once had only books became the beloved of the sea itself.

And to this day, when waves crash against the rocks, some say it is Neptune, answering the stories of the girl who taught a god how to love.
♥️ U 🐻
 
Bless you Carmina. It's probably not all that popular a position, but the deep impact position is the best for allowing me to caress and possess both her breasts and her ass while plumbing her sex to it's very depths, but also affording a handy... um... anchor for when I lose my mind and all I can do is pump my pelvis deep into her.
Excellent!

But I think I still need an illustration. I can't be the only one having trouble conceptualizing this? Right?
 
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