Having been up since one AM, I have been doing some reading and recollecting. And being in PM(Pervert mode), most of it is sexual. I am not a big believer in statistics. If you have one foot incased in ice and the other one in hot coals,statistically you are comfortable. But these figures are obtained by those who assume to be much more intelligent than I.
Thirty four percent of men and ten percent of women have lied to get sex. Now I find that very hard to believe. Women maybe. But a man lying to a woman? Never. Now I know that it is kind of hard to believe us at times. But I really do have ten inches. It's just that the women I've been with are near sighted and can’t really see it all. Seven percent of American women sleep in the nude. I could find nothing about American men or foreign men or women. I would say that the percentage would be higher in Europe. I would hope that the percentage would be higher. I sleep neeeekid. Nude is without clothes but artfully. Naked is without clothes because you like to be without clothing. Neeeekid is without clothing and up to something. A southern term. Besides, I love to spoon and it is a lot more fun neeeekid.
The initial spurt of ejaculate travels at twenty eight miles per hour. Now, the record for the one hundred yard dash is somewhere around twenty seven MPH. I guess that means that if you shot your load at the wrong time, it really could catch up with you.
Unobstructed, your penis is capable of twelve to twenty four inch spurts. I wouldn’t know this personally. I never masturbated. From the time I got my first eleven inch erection, I had women lined up to get it. And if I had whupped my mule in bed, my twelve inch pecker would have shot it over my head. You have to believe me. remember, men do not lie.
I guess that is enough figures for now.Later folks.
Tell a Viet vet,"Welcome home."
Forgive your enemies. It messes up their minds.

Was in town yesterday just walking around enjoying retirement when I heard two ol boys talking. One was telling how he should kick so & so's butt for looking at his woman. I got to thinking. A dangerous thing for me at times. I love the South. To me, there is no other place to live. And I am a loyal Southern boy. But sometimes I just dont understand the Southern male. A Southern man will fight at the drop of a hat if someone looks at his woman. Now I'm not talking about eyes bulging, grabbing your crotch, tongue hanging out, drooling and stareing at her boobs or butt. I am talking about an admiring glance. I, for one, feel proud if someone looks at a woman that I am with. And I believe that most women like it. Why else would they spend so much time getting ready to go somewhere? I say be proud that you are with someone who someone else wants to look at.
Back when I was a member of the working class not long ago, I took a load of steel to a job site at Vanderbilt University in Nashville. As I was being unloaded, I saw a woman walking toward me on the sidewalk. Nice looking woman in her 40's. Nice body and one of the best set of boobs you would find. And obviously braless.Well, I must have looked a little longer than I normally would because as she got to where I was standing, she smiled and said,"Thank you."
I said,"Ma'am?"
She said,"Thank you for looking."
I told her, "I did'nt mean to stare. You're not mad?"
She answered, "Hell no. For what I payed for these, someone had better look."
That is my kind of woman. We both laughed and she walked off. Here is a woman who, obviously, doesnt flash them to every man who looks but she knows what she has;knows that they look good; knows that folks will notice them and isnt in the least bit insulted when someone admires them. That is the kind of attitude I love in a woman. But if she had belonged to the ol boy in town, I would have had one Hell of a whupping flung on me.
Now, the kind of woman I am looking for goes a step further. But that is for another blog.
Before I go, I reckon I need to do a little translating. I realize that not everyone speaks the proper English as we Southerners speak.
Ol boy-Nothing to do with age. A Southern term for a guy. A more complimentary term is "Good ol boy"
Ol gals and Good ol gals- Female version.
Fling a whupping- To be beat severely about the head, face and body by an ol boy. Flung a whupping is the past tense.
South, Southern or Southerner is always capitalized.
yankee is never capitalized. It is permissable to capitalize it at the beginning of a sentence, but only if you remember. No big deal if you forget.
Reckon-Same as "I guess."
Later folks.
Tell a Viet vet,"Welcome home."

While partaking in my morning ritual of surfing through many adult web sites, I came across several, including this one, that had men who wanted to be a "Cuckold." These men wanted their wives to have other men and in many cases in their presence. Well, that got me to thinking. Can a man be a cuckold if he wants his wife to have another man? I guess that would depend on the definition of "Cuckold." So I went to Webster (Dictionary, not the little black guy). Cuck'old n. man whose wife is unfaithful. OK. Next question: Can she be unfaithful with permission? Back to the dictionary. unfaith'ful a. 1. not faithful 2.adulterous. Now I have opened another can. Back to Webster. faith'ful a. 1 loyal 2. exact. Adultery- sexual unfaithfulness in marriage. That brings us back to the word "unfaithful."
As I am now sick of Webster, I am going to make my own decision as to who can be a cuckold. I have met two couples in this web site. Both couples are happily married and very secure in the relationship. Both couples are as loyal to each other as any two people can be. I have copulated (Sounds classy, huh?) with both females in the presence and with the consent of the male half. Since I have no doubt as to the loyalty and faithfulness of these couples, I have determined that one can not be a permissive cuckold. You are only a cuckold if your wife is having sexual relations with another with out your knowledge or consent. I have spoken.


The average size of an erect penis is 5 inches and the average flaccid penis measures about 3 inches. (stop stressing!)
People who have sex at least 3 times a week are perceived to look more than four years younger!
A recent poll showed that computer geeks make the best lovers – apparently they put their lover’s satisfaction above their own. (as one who has a geek for a lover, this is true)
Most women experience arousal after the fun has begun – so don’t wait to feel inspired.
If you’re giving a speech, have sex first. It’s said that an orgasm can help to cure stage fright.
The Earth could be repopulated from the amount of sperm that could fit in an aspirin capsule.
Watching a quick porn video before sex has been shown to make women (and men) more sexually adventurous.
Women get more turned on by watching a man kiss a woman than watching a man have sex with her.
53% of women have used a vibrator for sexual stimulation.
If a man is overweight, for every 35 pounds he loses, his penis appears to grow ONE INCH!
The average woman can reach orgasm in about 4 minutes through masturbation, while through intercourse, it can take 10 – 20 minutes.
Having sex at least once a week can improve your immune system by 30%.
Women who masturbate regularly are more likely to experience orgasm every time they have sex.
Women are ten times more sensitive to touch than men, so keep that in mind when turn-on time comes.
Women don’t want oral sex to last all night.
The sexual pursuit part of a man’s brain is 2 1/2 times larger than a woman’s.
One in every four Americans has said they were too tired for sex.
On average a man released 2 to 5 MILLION sperm every time he ejaculates.
56% of men wish their penis were bigger.
Couples with no TV in the bedroom report 50% more sex.
Eye contact increases sexual attraction.
Women who eat chocolate every day report a higher sex drive (sign me up)
Semen contains zinc and calcium, both proven to prevent tooth decay.
The average aroused vagina is 4 inches long – shorter than the average erect penis, which measures in at 5 inches.
With all the doom and gloom of the economic situation in the US, Europe and around the world, don’t give up on sex. It’s fun, it’s good for you and it’s free. Nuff said.

Some years ago, I met the perfect woman for me. I say, for me, because I wasn't , and am not now, looking for a woman that you would take home to mom. I want the woman that dad wishes that you would bring home. As I am usually in PM (Pervert mode), I wanted, and still do want, a slut. I don't really like the term"Slut" but it's an easy way to describe her. And I don't mean it as a bad thing.
She was beautiful in face and form. We seemed to click instantly. We went to bed on the first real date. She loved oral, giving as well as receiving and even liked anal on occasion. A good cook and house keeper, although that is not high on my priorities. She knew how to dress to accentuate her many assets. Not that she would be to forward or revealing around friends or family, but did like to let people know what she had. And she was slightly flirty but I like that. And at home and by ourselves, If we weren't naked, we were not far from it.

But the best times were when away from home. On weekend trips, the truck drivers and many others got shows that they are probably still talking about. Flashing boobs was kid stuff. Rear end in the window with a vibrator inserted was more her style. Giving me a hand or blow job while playing with herself or me fingering her, that was her style. I do feel badly about the church bus that passed us in Arkansas but thee preacher got some good material for a sermon that day. Rest areas along the roads were a great playground for flashing or having sex with the possibility of, or actually in a few cases, being seen. Room service wearing a towel or, a couple of times, naked. Towel slipping or T-shirt and bending over. She never wore under wear on our trips and I didn't and still don't. Short skirts and nipple slips in pool halls and bars. Leaving the curtain slightly open in motel rooms. I could go on and on but you get the picture. She was even talking of being shared, which I would love. She talked of adding a woman to our bed or where ever we decided to have sex which I really looked forward to. I had the perfect world. She was my world.

What happened you ask? Well maybe you didn't ask but it's my story so I will tell you.

I am a man so, naturally, I screwed it up. What did I do? It's simple. I married her.

Over night, she became a Nun. No more flashing or wild sex. I mentioned a nudist resort to her. "That's disgusting." Now she has become the woman that you would take home to mom.

I am looking for another like her. Will I marry again? If I find her, probably. As a man I don't learn very well. But, although most in here are not real, I know that there are women out there who share my wants and needs. And, in all probability, there are some in here. Most will be taken but there may be one or two who are not. She may work at Walmart or at the local diner or grocery store. I'll keep

The word "vanilla" comes from the Latin word vagina, because of the vanilla pods resemblance to the female genitalia.
Now, why do I have a craving for ice cream?/Volumes/NFPDT/NFPDT/46.jpg

I once knew a woman who sold her panties. She was going to College and used the money to help defray costs. She would go to Roses Department store and by the cheapest she could find with designs on them. She would get them a size or two too small so they would fit real tight and ride up in her. I think that she said she got $20.00 for them. She stayed wet most of the time, or "Juicy" as she called it, so there would be the hint of a stain and/or odor to them when they arrived at the costumers home. Along with the panties, she would send a computer letter that had a couple of photo's of her wearing the panties. Her main investment was $12.00 for a post office box for a year. I think she said that the panties cost about $3.00 a pair buying by the package and less than a dollar to mail them. She already had a computer and printer. I'm sure that there was some cost for printer ink but it would be negligible. She made pretty good money and, as far as I know, was, and is, perfectly legal.
As a side note, I suggested to her that she should go to both political party headquarters in town and tell them that she wants to hand out fliers for their candidates. They gave her hundreds of fliers which are blank on one side. Free printing paper. I did caution her to not show her face in the photo's, which she assured me that she never does. All over the country, now, are political fliers of Tennessee politicians with her panty pic's on the back. Ever so often I'll run across one of these politicians and can't help but smile and think of her. What would Tipper think of Al if she saw one of the fliers?

A great institution is all but gone. One that has relieved the pain and pressure from many a young man. An institution that was my only reason for going to Nashville, other than Tootsies Orchid Lounge. The massage parlor. They survived many a disaster but I guess the hard times caught up with them. Politicians did them in, I assume. Any time there was a mayoral election they had to lay low, but survived. But now they are gone. I guess that you could still get a massage in Nashville, but they are mostly mobile or on Craigs List. And expensive. And you have to pay extra for the "Happy ending." At one time the "Happy ending" was included. Anything else was to be negotiated, but the hand job was a given.
My favorite was a place on 16th Av. N. down the street from the Country Music Hall of Fame at the time. It had no sign and I am not sure how I found it. And I don't remember anyone else being there on arrival other than the owner. I can't remember the ladies name for sure but "Sue" seems to stick in my mind. She was a slim, dark haired lady. She had very small breasts but some of the longest nipples I've seen. And I am a nipplemaniac. I am not sure that she would go farther than the hand job as I never asked her. I am a lover of the hand job, so that was fine with me. One time she did do a little more but I'll get to that. I was in the Army at the time, stationed at Ft Campbell. I would head home for most weekends and would stop to see her twice a month (Pay day) on the way home. Some times more, if the money was there. It was perfect for me. That was soon after Vietnam and most women would have nothing to do with a soldier. Especially a Vietnam vet.
When I would arrive, Sue would greet me at the door. She was upstairs in an old house. We would talk for a few minutes and then go into the massage room. I'd give her $20.00 for a half an hour. She would tell me to get ready and she would be right back. I'd get undressed and lay on my stomach on the table. There would be a towel under me and when she came back in she would place a towel across by backside. She would strip to the waist and usually have on a pair of short, shorts. She would start the massage at my shoulders and move to my arms and neck. Now, one thing different about Sue was that she gave a damn good massage. She actually knew what she was doing. I believe that, at one time, she had been legitimate massage therapist. She would use oil or powder depending on your preference. I chose powder for the most part and oil for the ending. But I'd leave feeling great as well as my pipes cleaned out. She would work her way down from the shoulders to my back. She would rub my backside underneath the towel and lightly run her fingers up and down the crack and spreading and kneading the cheeks. Now, just for record, I am straight. But I am not ashamed to say that I love a woman to play with my butt. As she moves to my upper thighs she works the inside of them, still rubbing my cheeks ever so often. When I lay down, I made sure that my legs were parted and my penis and testicles were between them and not underneath. I'd stay accessible.
Many times, as she would be working my butt and inside my upper thighs, she would "Accidentally" lightly rub her fingers across my pecker and balls. Already hard, I would sometimes shoot my load at that point. She would make some kind of comment such as, "well, we are ready today, aren't we." She would get a warm, damp cloth, clean me off, remove the towel from underneath me and continue the massage. She would work her way down to my feet and even to my toes.
After the toes, it's time to turn over. She would remove the towel from my butt and let me turn and place the towel over my privates. If I hadn't shot my load earlier, the towel would not lay flat. Even if it did lay flat at first, soon it would not. She would pretty much do the same on the front as she had in back. But now I can see more. As she is working, she is "Accidentally" touching different parts with nipples. There is nothing like the feel of nipples on you pecker as she is working your upper legs. And , at times, "accidentally" touching your privates along the way. When through with the feet, she would work her way up to the upper and inner thighs again. Now I am, or again, harder than Superman's kneecap. She pulls the towel up to my stomach so I am exposed. She dips her fingers in a bowl of warm oil and rubs it on her hands. She lays her head on my upper thigh and gently starts to rub me. She takes her time and at the same time gently massaging my balls and the perineum. With her breathing on it and looking at it, it wouldn't be long that I would shoot. At the first squirt, she would hold it a little tighter and skin it back and hold it until I was finished shooting. At the same time she is gently squeezing by balls. Then she slowly works it up and down a couple of times to get the last drops out. Then she would clean me off. We would talk some while getting dressed. I would tell her that I'd be back and be on my way feeling better than I had in two weeks.
Before I end this, I have to tell about my last visit. A couple of months earlier, I told her that I had orders for Germany. A few days before I had to leave, I went there and informed her that this would be my last visit for about three years. She seemed genuinely sad but everything went as usual until the last part. She didn't oil her hands and she put her head on my lower stomach. Then she said, "Tell me before you cum, OK." She had never said that in the two years that I had been seeing her. I said, OK." At that she took a hold of me and moved her face closer and put it in her mouth. She proceeded to give me a slow, gentle and toe curling blow job. I say slow as she was taking it slowly but I, on the other hand, had to give her the warning very soon. She took it out of her mouth and the rest was as usual. She said that it was a going away present.
The good old days, gone in Nashville. I swear that if I could find a woman who could give a massage like that again, I'd marry her. No questions asked.
Later folks.

In about two months I'll start my new year. My year starts just before the Memorial Day weekend with the annual "Ride to the Wall." My Road King and I will be hitting the road on May 23d. Our travel will take us from our small W. Tennessee town through Tennessee, Virginia, Maryland, New Jersey, Pennsylvania, Ohio, Indiana and Illinois.
Now, you may be wondering why I tell you this. I am hoping that enough folks read this and give me some ideas of places to go, sights to see and offers of a back yard or a porch to throw out a sleeping bag. I love to travel but, with gasoline the way it is now, finances can be limited. A major expence is lodging. The army took all the hardcorp camping out of me but I am not opposed to a sleeping bag with running water and bathroom facilities close by. Barring some nice offers of lodging, I'll be staying in a lot of camp grounds. Hopefully adult nudist campgrounds.
That's the reason for starting my Adult travel Club. Anyone on this web site is welcome to spend a night or three at my humble abode. That would, of course, be after some communication as to insure that you are not an ax murderer. And there are no strings attached. I require nothing but company. And, of course, I would expect the same treatment if invited to your home. No nudity required. I'll not get naked unless you do.
If not offered lodging, I'd still like to meet some of you. And if you know of any good nude campgrounds, I'd appreciate the info.Good sites to see. When not in PM (Pervert mode), I like to visit historical sites. I will be spending a few days at Sunaura. That's an adult, clothing optional, resort in Roselawn, In. Great place.
So, if anyone has any advice, information or offers, I would greatly appreciate any and all you can give.
I am planning a trip to Montana later this Summer. I hope to get some help on that trip, also.
Later folks.

.
I used to see Karen every couple of weeks on the weekend. Usually on Sunday. She lives in Shelbyville and I lived in Christiana at the time, about 20 miles away. She was very low income and barely making it so I would see her and take her out to eat. Afterward, I would take her home and we would talk for a while. When I got ready to leave I would ask her if she needed a few dollars and she would usually say no. I usually gave her a twenty dollar bill anyway. Then we would hug and I'd give her a friendly kiss and go. That was the extent of our relationship until one day after this had been going on for a few months.
One Sunday we had ended up talking about dirty movies. We had been discusing the merits of foreign movies over American. I told her that I prefered erotic over porn. Some of what we talked about included the way we hated to see a man making love to a woman, then finish by pulling out and jerking off in her face. We discussed my pet hatred of seeing a woman giving a great hand or blowjob and then spitting on his pecker. It just isn't lady like. Many would argue that giving a BJ or HJ isn't lady like either but I am not in that category. I admitted to how much I loved a HJ but there are too many ways to lubricate to be spitting on it. I guess it's just me. Anyway, the nature of the conversation along with the presence of a good looking woman was having a definate effect on me. And, as I don't wear underwear, it was becoming obvious. I told her that I'd better get going and made my usual offer of money and she gave the usual answer of "No." As we hugged, I tried not to press against her too much and she noticed. She told me that this is no hug and she pulled me against her. That's when she must have felt my reaction to the conversation. I was a little embarrassed but told her that I would see her later and started to the door. She said,"Wait." She took my hand and led me to the bedroom and told me to lay down. When I did, she took my shoes and socks off, unbuckled my belt and, slowly and carefully, unzipped my pants. Since I dont wear underwear, I really appreciated that slowly and carefully part. She then pulled my pants down. By this time, I am harder than an ex-wife's heart. As she pulled them down and my ten inches sprang out, her eyes got as big as saucers. OK, I'm exagerating here. Her eyes didn't get that big. Wait. I just remembered that I have pictures in here. OK, I am about average in the pecker package. But it did spring out. She pulled my pants off and layed them on a chair, layed on the bed beside me on her left side with her head about even with my waist and proceeded to give me a great hand job. Now some may say that a HJ is a HJ. WRONG. Some women can't or wont give a good HJ. They just grab it and start jerking like they are trying to yank it off. Some will just start rubbing methodically intil it shoots. Karen makes love to your penis. She will rub slowly and lightly, gently squeezing ever so often. She pays gentle attention to the balls at the same time and at some point moves my shirt up from my stomach as not to make a mess on it. She, alternately looks from the penis and into my eyes. She has a way of holding it with both hands like a coffee mug with her thumbs on the backside and at the point between the head and shaft and gently rubbing with her thumbs. That usually does it for me. I usually blow my load at that point. When I did, she told me to wait there and she went and got a warm damp cloth and cleaned me off. As she was cleaning me, I asked her if I could do anything for her. She said,"No. You have been a good friend to me. I know that you are alone and I could tell you needed this. You have done so much for me, this is the least I can do." I told her that it wasn't necessary but I did really appreciate it.
This pretty much became a routine every couple of weeks until I moved away. It never got passed the hand job. She probably felt that anything more would spoil the friendship. And maybe she was right. And anyway, I do love a hand job. Later on, she would take her shirt off and let me play with her boobs (Great nipples and I'm a nipplemaniac) and rub her butt inside her pants or shorts during the HJ but that was it.
One time, during another great hand job, I had something on my mind and she could tell and asked me what was wrong. I told her that I was afraid that she would get the idea that the only reason I see her was for the hand job. She said that she knew that wasn't the case. She said that if she thought that, I wouldn't be getting them.
I haven't seen her in about two years now. I moved away and I think she did too. We just lost contact.
I miss my friend Karen. And, yes. I miss her more than the hand jobs.