Have a Merry Christmas!

I decided to take a shower. It was getting pretty late. I had showered once already. I was cold and felt like standing under a scalding column of water and steam. Sometimes, especially in winter, my body just craves the feeling of intense heat. Conversely, I love the feeling of the icy blast of cold air as you step out. I didn't want to put on clothes. I felt like a glowing ember. My skin was red and hot. I wrapped a towel around my waist and walked to the living room. I sat on the couch and started flipping channels. After a few minutes, Mrs came out of the bedroom wearing a teddy. She walked to the couch and knelt between my legs. She flipped back the towel. I pretended to watch whatever program ended up on teh TV. She took me in her mouth. It was a strange sensation. My skin still felt like it radiated heat from the shower. When she folded back the towel it was like I was suddenly exposed to an arctic blast of air. Her mouth felt hot on my hardening cock. She ran her tongue down to my balls where she took one then the other into her mouth. The bizarre sensation of hot and cold was intensified by the cooling trail of saliva she left as she moved her tongue. She moved up my body placing a knee on either side of me. I lifted the teddy as she lowered herself onto my cock. She began to rock back and forth grinding her pussy onto my cock. After a few minutes she began to lift herself up along the lenght of my shaft almost until I slipped out, then lowered herself slowly. When she reached the bottom she started rocking again. After a few minutes she started to go faster, grinding less and lifting herself up and slamming down more. Faster and faster until she grabbed the back of my head and shoved my face into her chest and began to shake. I was no where near cuming. After a minute or so of rest, I had her spin around so that she was facing away from me. She lowered herself onto my cock again. I expected her to lay back on me so that I could play with her nipples and clit. Instead she reached down and grabbed my ankles. She started to slam herself up and down on my cock. I felt like I should've been filming this. I could've gone all night. My chest swelled as I thought to myself were were approaching porn levels of endurance and creativity. After a few minutes she did lay back on me. I reached around and squeezed her nipples with my left hand while I reached for her clit with my right. She grapped my hand and showed me how she wanted me to knead her tits roughly. I followed her example and kneaded her breasts while ocassionaly pinching her nipple. Her body writhed on mine as she approached another orgasm. She sat up straight and began to bounce on my lap as she came. I didn't give her a chance to rest this time. I pushed her forward so that she was on all fours on the floor. She almost immediately collapsed. I rolled her onto her back. She rested her legs on my shoulders as I slid myself deep inside. I started moving slowly giving her a little bit of a chance to recover. She would have none of it. She grabbed my hips and started forcing me to move faster and faster until I was pounded her pussy with my cock. She shouted "OH GODD!!" and bit her lip. I finally exploded.

Last night was the last night of pool ever. Well, at least for a long time. The season ended for us pretty much the way I expected, and in a manner representative of some of the many reasons I quit in the first place.

We made it to the playoffs. I have to say, it was pretty cool in that there was a 2 way tie for first and a 3 way tie for 3rd (including us). There wer only 3 points between the first place ties and the 3rd place ties. The session was EXTREMELY competitive this time.

The team we played is one we've gone up against in almost every playoff we've been in. The first match started off great. Then it went downhill from there. We lost the next 3 to knock us out of the playoffs. I was slated to play last. But I never got to shoot.

I didn't mind that we lost per se. I mean, I would've rather won and gone out with a bang. But this team is a really tough one and it's 50/50 we can beat them. Last night we didn't. Oh well. What really got me, was that everyone was into the first match. Almost everyone on the team was watching and shouting out supportive things so on and so on. Then, one by one, as people played their match, they migrated to a table separate from the action and started partying. INCLUDING THE CAPTAIN! By the last match, the only people actually watching was the scorekeeper (me) and the player. The rest of the team was off to the side not paying a bit of attention.

During the regular session, it's all about fun. It's not the nicest thing to do to a player, but it's not the end of the world. During playoffs, it's different. We have a chance to advance and go to vegas. To me, this is what it's all about.

The real kicker is, I honestly believe people ignored the last match because they didn't expect him to do well. It's like they knew he would lose and gave up on him, our playoffs, the team in general. And THAT'S what really pissed me off last night.

After it was all over I realized something. I wasn't there for pool. I enjoy pool. I like the competition. But pool wasn't my motivation. I was there completely looking for trouble. And there was opportunity to be had. There were two stunning young beauties playing on a table behind us. One of them wore a T-shirt that said "I'll try anything once, twice if I like it". I really wanted to go up to her and say "What a coincidence, my name is actually anything!" A girl I talked about back in November was also there (RG). This girl has the most amazing body. But by the time the night was over, I was in such a bad mood about the team I really didn't want to hang around. So I simply walked out.

As I was driving home, I thought about the season and my motivations. It really hurt me to quit the team. But not for the right reasons. It hurt me solely because I'm leaving behind such great opportunity for mischief. How fucked up is it that I'm more pissed about giving up nights of mischief than pool? When I realized that, I made up my mind right there that I was never going play pool with my work crowd again.

But I think I may still go by the bar occasionally. I can't help it. I feel like a young puppy compelled to chase cars. I'm sure ultimately, I'll get squished too.

I'm climbing the walls!! I'm thinking about nothing but sex with little hard bodied women. It's like I'm fucking 16 again... without the uncontrollable boners.

Friday afternoon, Mrs was gone and C was still at school. I was bored and thinking to myself "What the hell am I going to do... hmmm?" I really wish I had someone to play with. Instead I got really burnt and ordered pay per view porn. I've only ever ordered porn once before on a whim. I really couldn't tell you what the movie was about, other than a lot of really hot women fucking each other, fucking guys, fucking themselves, whatever. It didn't take long before I had a raging hardon. Usually porn doesn't do much for me. I've been pretty much sticking to whatever I can find on the internet. Usually it's clips of amateurs. At that they are mostly snippets and not long at all. I guess I need a professional production and more than just a few seconds at that. Anyway, the $10 was a good investment, though if I'm not careful I could see myself spending a LOT of money. Anyway, I was watching these incredibly hot women and thought about the few times I was with A. I think if she had walked in the room right then I probably would've cum all over the place without even touching her. I decided not to do anything about it. At the time my reasoning was that if I was extra horny things would be great if I had sex with Mrs. I failed.

After the movie ended I couldn't help but think about A. My mind probably builds up what I remembered more than what things ACTUALLY were. But when I think about it I remember having pretty damned good sex with a smoking hot woman. Sadly, I got tired of chasing after her hoping we could hook up. But let's face it, if she were to call today, I'd probably jump at the chance. Which is probably exactly why she wouldn't call. It's probably also why I haven't been able to get anywhere with anyone else. I don't have the patience to walk the fine line between just flirting and being too aggressive.

So I'm still stuck with my original dilema. I undress almost every woman I see (in my mind). At work I type a few lines of (whatever I'm working on) then think about one of the waitresses at pool bent over a stack of boxes in the supply room at the bar. Maybe I need professional help. A lobotomy perhaps? ArghGHG!

Boy am I glad I'm quitting the pool team. This past Wed. was the epitomy of all I hate about pool nights. The night started off pleasant enough. Some wings. Some beer. Some pool. I was kicking ass on the table while I was warming up. Then the match started. I drew probably their best player. He's older. All business. A meticulous player and very VERY good. The first game was a blowout. I think that set the tone for me for the rest of the night. I was so frustrated by the end of the game I was having a hard time relaxing. I really wanted to make a good show of this match because I knew it was my last night. I won the 2nd... barely. He won the 3rd. I won the 4th. Then he won the next two to finish me off. What really bothered me was that I had at least 2 chances to put him away and blew them both. I was really pissed off that I shot horribly compared to warm ups.

The whole time I was shooting a girl was trying to talk to me. I had never met her before. She was attractive to me as more of a curiosity than a physical thing. If I were to break her down into physical components there were some things that don't do it for me. Not that there was anything wrong, just they aren't my type. But for some reason the whole package was... interesting. Except I was determined to win my match and getting pissed that I wasn't doing better. So I wasn't saying a word to her in spite of her trying to start conversations with me. Afterwards, I felt bad because she was really nice. Not that I thought I stood a chance of getting anywhere. Just that I was rude and didn't say anything to her. By then I was still in no mood to chit chat and didn't even apologize.

I did chit chat with PP and a couple of the crew. My mood started to lighten up a bit as I let the match go. We came down to the last 9 ball match and it became a choice of me or Work C to shoot their 2nd best player. Work C had surgery on his knee a few weeks ago. He shot one of his matches right before and said his knee was killing him and he couldn't shoot. So I drew their 2nd best player. I have beaten this guy before. In fact, I don't think he has beaten me at all.

It was another disaster. I think numbers wise I was only a few balls away from winning. But again, I had opportunity after opportunity to put him away with authority and couldn't pull it out. If I made a great shot, I scratched. If I took an easy shot, the ball bobbled in the pocket and wouldn't drop. When it was all over, I was so ready to never feel this way again. Like I was in quick sand and couldn't swim out.

We hung out for a while just chit chatting. Eventually I went to the bar to close out. While paying my tab, one of the waitresses I used to talk smack to walked over to me, stood really close and started talking to me. When I say really close, I mean she was inches away from my face. So I sat at the bar and had another beer or two. By this point I was accepting the losses and was pretty relaxed about letting the whole thing go.

As I was finishing up my last beer, one of the girls on another team shouted at me to come sit with them at karaoke. Who am I to pass up an invitation. So I wandered over and parked it. There isn't much to report from here. I tried to carry on a converstation with a couple of people. It was loud and everybody was singing so that you couldn't put a string of sentences together without interuption. At one point, one of the waitresses younger sister came up to me and started talking. She pressed her body up against mine and got within inches of my face. Then one of her songs came up and she ran away to sing. I hung out for a littel bit longer, at this point just content to sit back, drink a beer, and watch the crowd. I got home around 1:30 evidently pretty drunk.

I say evidently because I couldn't get out of bed the next morning. It was the first time in my history of pool that I was hungover to the point of being sick. So I spent the better part of yesterday recovering. When I finally woke up and could stand without puking a wave of immense relief came over me that I wasn't going to subject myself to that again. At least not regularly.

So now I have to decide what to do with my Wed nights. Perhaps some other mischief will come my way. Of course, there's nothing to say I can't visit the pool hall ocasionally. Anyone with any ideas?

What does one do when their spouse is approaching a point physically where they are no longer attractive to them? I'm no prime example of a male of the species. But I'm not morbidly obese either. I'm 5'10, 196. 196 is about 40 pounds over weight according to the books. I can tell you, in high school and college I weighed 155ish and had toothpicks for legs. I wasn't out of shape either. I worked out 4 days a week for 2.5 hrs. I took karate from the time I was 10 until 18. I had my blackbelt at 14 and taught classes at least twice a week. But I was WAY too skinny at 155. I have a large frame and 155 looked anemic on me. I would say 175ish is my ideal weight. At that weight I have no toothpick appendages. But I'm still pretty tight body wise. I'm probably 20+ pounds over that. I show a little bit of gut and some fat in my face. When I go over 200 I really start to show my weight. A couple of years ago I reached an all time high of 220+ (give or take a pound or two). I decided I was never going to be that fat ever again and went on a hard core weight loss regimine. Low carb. Running. I lost down to an all time low of 182. If I do say so myself, 182 looked pretty damned good. Then I got lazy and gained some of it back. I hit 206 again after 2 years and decided it was time to get serious again. I've been low carbing for a month or so and am down about 10 pounds. I have drastic measures planned which will actually start this week. I'm quitting pool. Eating junk food and pounding away tons of alcohol every Wed night is doing nothing for my physique not to mention my wallet. I figure I probably spend about $200 and month on pool nights. With that money, I plan to start taking karate again. I haven't decided exactly what style yet. But my goal is to work out 3 times a week. I'll have to see how scheduling allows. But I am challenging myself to hit 175 in the next 6 months. I'll try to post progress.

To me, it's a matter of will power. One of the things I learned at a young age is that you really can accomplish anything once you put your mind to it. I had my Black Belt at 14 and my open water Dive Certificate (junior). When I was 18 I learned to whitewater kayak, mountain climb, and had a little bit of flying experience under my belt. After college, I decided I wanted to sail. I bought a boat and read a ton of books until I could sail. I didn't take classes (not recommended), I just decided I could do it and did. Same thing with my latest hobby. I built a gun. I'm a gun nut. I have a few. I've always wanted to see what makes them tick so I built a gun. I didn't mill it from raw metals. But I assembled every pin, spring, screw to empty parts until I had a working firearm. Again, a simple matter of will power. My body is my next project. I want to get back to the bad ass that I was back in high school and college, including weight. It's a significant challenge to me now because a) I'm twice as old b) I have a family with time and money obligations and c) I've generally become a lazy shit in the last 10 years or so. However, I've set my mind to it and I'm going to make it happen.

Which leads me back to my opening statement. Mrs is none of that. When I first met her, years before we started dating, she was smoking hot. She had an incredible body. Of course, we were still in our 20's at the time. When we started dating, she had put on a few pounds, but wasn't obese by any stretch. She had C and put on a few more pounds, but still nothing that was grossing me out. Recently, she has put on about 10 or 15 more pounds. When you add up all the gains since I've known her, it's a pretty significant amount.

Last night I walked in the bedroom to get ready for bed. Mrs was laying in the bed watching TV with her head propped up on a couple of pillows. For the first time ever, I saw her weight as unattractive. Maybe it was just the way she was laying down, but she looked obese to me. I watched her get dressed this morning and realized that she is physically unattrative to me. It's freaking me out. In spite of all the shit I talk on this blog, I really do love Mrs. In a way, this blog is an outlet for all the things pent up inside me. As such, it represents the darkest side of me and isn't really a good representation of who I am completely. Yes everything in here is unedited and true. Everything in here has really happened. But lets face it, we all color who we are in our own minds by who we want to be. Even when we admit things that aren't who we want to be, we still see them in whatever light we want to. The reality of my life is, as much shit as I talk, I love Mrs. I love who she is. When they say opposites attract, we are the model. I'm a crass boorish redneck. Mrs is the epitomy of class. She is the person I want to be. She rarely has anything bad to say about anyone. She sees the world with optimist eyes. I and NOT that. Therein lies the problem. I could weigh 300 pounds and Mrs would still be completely attracted to me. But she's hitting a point physically where I'm actually getting turned off. I can't help it. It's not something I want to have happen. I talk about flirting and trying to hook up here. Sometimes I skip the fact that all of that is secondary to Mrs. Yeah sometimes sex with Mrs is very blasee and it's frustrating. But what's frustrating isn't a lack of desire, but rather lack of variety. All of the other stuff is another product of my dark side. Wanting more and more. It has nothing to do with desire with Mrs. Except now the desire is starting to wane.

The thing is, I know I have the will power to make myself better physically. Mrs doesn't. Again, it's the whole opposites thing. So I'm facing a lifetime of Mrs being physically unattractive. It's killing me. Knowing what this lack of desire would do to Mrs is killing me too. I can't stand the thought of causing her mental anguish. And I've always said, you love someone for who they are NOW. Not who you want them to be. You never try to change someone because the end result is always different than what you want. Nothing comes from it but misery along the way as well as the end when you realize the change itself destroyed the person you were in love with. On top of that, I know how sensitive Mrs is. It's one of the things I love about her. I know if I were to say anything, it would crush her. So here I am. I can't help my feelings. It's not like there's a switch I can throw and say "Hey, that her ass now resembles a lumpy throw pillow is SEXY!!"