The Beau Kind

Thanks to everyone (-1) for their encouragement and kind words.

I have registered and started my own blog at…you could probably guess it:

thebeaukind.com

I know it is derivative of TBK’s name, but the derivation was my idea and I’ve really become fond of the pseudonym.  Think of my site as a “spinoff.”  By the way, it will also continue to feature the writings of B diddle.
The new site looks like shit right now because I’m still learning how to manage it–it should look a lot better by Monday.  Also, I am committing myself to posting more regularly than I did here–probably about 3-4 times per week.  You might want to use a feed
Update:  I’ve spoken to both TBK and Belle over the past couple of days.  I’m still not reading TBK’s blog at the moment, but I’ll be back there soon.

I hope some of you will still enjoy my writings even though I’m no longer fucking your favorite blogger–and I hear that some of you WILL be!  I’m sure you’ll have fun!

I had prepared a long final post, but after reading TBK’s comments to the post about our last evening together, I’m going to shorten it to the following thoughts and a short poem (my first, and probably last.)

• I wasn’t quite as pathetic as TBK’s memory of the quotes made me sound–but she got the gist of it.
• @ Belle: I love you. You are strong and you don’t need me to take care of you as much as I need to take care of my partner. Let’s talk soon!
• @ Manj: You’re a cynical, unthinking bitch with an agenda–good luck with that.
• @ All the other readers: Thanks sincerely for the kind words and for believing in me.
• @ Myself: I’m Hurt, Sad, Angry, and Lonely, but I’ve been here before and I’ll recover soon.
• @TBK: What I needed to hear was that you were doing this for YOU and not as a martyr to my future happiness. Your last comment convinced me of that–best of luck to you! Let’s talk later.

.

My Joy lies

in a look of pure unadulterated joy

enveloping a Kiddo’s face

as She and I

tickle her laughing Mommy.

I want that scene.

My heart SCREAMS! for that scene.

I want that scene,

multiple times,

each day,

for the rest of my life.

My joy lies

in the Mommy loving me

the way that I love her.

And I will worship her.

.

Now I just have to find her…

This will be a post about my continuing relationship with my late wife’s memory.  My other writings on this topic are usually posted on my myspace page–so that her family can know that I am still thinking of her–but I decided this morning to share these thoughts with you instead.

The Dream:

It is today.  I see my wife in a hospital bed like the one we had in our home when she died.  She looks like a trauma victim–covered in blood, her left eye deformed and forced open even though she is not conscious.  …This vision is not a memory–I never actually saw her in that state and she died of cancer in her sleep…  I take her in my arms immediately–pulling her close and telling her that I love her. 

…In my head, I am confused.  I thought she was dead–and here I have been enjoying my life again.  How could I have been so neglectful?…

As I am holding her, she wakes up.  I can feel the love coming from her–she has missed me terribly.  She doesn’t have to say any of that.  What she does say is this:  “When can I die?”  I tell her that she can die any time she likes.  Then, after considering her pain and the lack of hope for her condition, I add, “Now would be a good time.”

What I Think it Means:

It means I miss her.  Big surprise.

These types of memories come at me fairly regularly when I am travelling to places that she and I visited when she was alive.  (Las Vegas and the Grand Canyon are coming up in the next few days, both of which are places we visited together.)  It has been a year and a half since she died and time is helping me to feel better about her death, but I’m crying again as I write this post.  I wonder if it will ever stop?

I understand that these dreams are normal for widow(er)s.  It would be nice to think that she was “up” there somewhere looking over my life, but I know that that isn’t the case.  She might be sitting next to the Flying Spaghetti Monster, approving here and disapproving there.  (I think she would be giggling about the whole triad business–there’s a happy thought.)  I know, however, that everything she was (including her consciousness) is now reduced to a few pounds of ashes stored in an urn, on the bottom shelf, of a Buddhist temple, in Asia.  The only way that she continues to exist is in the memories of those who knew her.  (And in a few, like the Kiddo, who love her without ever having met her.)

I think that I am posting this here for me.  The posts on myspace are for the in-laws and I don’t feel free to express the darker side of my thoughts.  This might be the start of something very disturbing on the Beau’s blog.

If any of the regular commenters here would like access to my myspace blogs, please feel free to drop me a line through TBK’s email:  love at thebeautifulkind dot com.  If I know you through your comments here, I would be glad to share the link to those other blog entries with you.

Bonus Link (for young widow(er)s, please forward if you know any.)

Just a few related observations from the Gay Pride Fair yesterday. (It followed the parade.)

• I saw a guy that I know and he was quick to tell me that he wasn’t IN the parade, that he just knew a bunch of the people who were.
• Another guy was sporting a shirt that said, “VAGITARIAN.”
• Several guys were ostentatiously holding their girlfriends’ hands.

In the spirit of full disclosure, I was holding Beautiful’s hand–but I do that all the time.

Bonus Link

When I went to join Army, one of the first things they did was to draw my blood. I’ve always had a problem with low blood pressure at times when presented with a needle. For Example:

I was 14 and had to have two pins put into one of my thumbs. After 8 or 10 weeks, it came time to take off the cast and to have a look at my hand with the doctor. The doctor took off the cast (very nasty/smelly), looked at my withered flesh and said, “Everything looks good.” I was really happy to hear that since I was planning a career as a percussionist. He proceeded to open a small drawer near my bed and to take out a pair of pliers as he said, “Let’s take those pins out.” I hadn’t really looked at the thumb yet, but when I did, I saw two little curls of metal sticking out of my thumb. (I HONESTLY thought the doctor was joking with the fucking pliers!) “That’s funny” I said, “How are you really going to take them out?” I hadn’t considered this aspect of the treatment and, in retrospect, I don’t know how else he could have removed the pins, but at the time I was hoping for a different answer than, “Pliers.” My Mother says that I turned as white as the sheet under me. I didn’t pass out that time, but I got nauseous and had to lie down on the bed.
So Army took a sample of my blood and (no so luck this time) I passed out. Good start for my new career. (I later learned that when my blood pressure starts dropping, it is a VERY BAD idea to put my head down between my knees. Good advice.

Fast forward to two hours later.

SGT of job placement: “You’ve got good scores on the ASVAB. How about becoming a combat medic?”

Me: “I just passed out when they took my blood. I don’t think I’d make a very good medic.”

SGT (Kind of seductively–and in my memory, in a sing-song voice.): “Medics get a $2500. signing bonus…”

Me: “Sign me up!”

Bonus Link (Quick one today.)

In my defense: I don’t actually fear needles. I was always the first one to volunteer when we would pair off for needle training (on each other). I give blood as often as the Red Cross will take it–I’m on their blacklist right now for some of the travelling I’ve done. And, I’ve just gotten my second (fairly large) tattoo–during which I didn’t even come close to passing out. (Not so lucky the first time )

I was raised to think that sex was something that should wait for marriage–ironically, since I was the reason my parents got married at 17 and 20. While I have plenty of character flaws, lacking the ability to control my primal urges ISN’T one of them. When I set my mind to doing something, it will happen the way I planned it–unless I factor in new information in a very objective way. I was 19 years old before I masturbated for the first time and 22 years old before I had sex with a woman (using the Clinton definition). Here is that story:

I was invited to an office retreat by my supervisor who was the secretary to our department chair. I was an undergraduate student working as an office assistant in the school’s music department and my supervisor was a sexy 34-year-old woman (or Cougar, as I would soon learn) who was separated from her husband. I was also broke and my four-year scholarship was expiring while I had another year of courses to take. (I took a LOT of courses because they were interesting, even if they weren’t on my degree plan.) Because I had no money for my fifth year, I had decided to take my part-time job up to full-time status for a year or so while saving my earnings to pay for that last year of college. My part-time job was that of a soldier (SGT Beau) and Army was looking for volunteers for Desert Storm. I’ll tell that story in another post.

When I got to the office retreat, I found that I was the first one to arrive. This didn’t immediately send up any “red flags” because, being a drummer with a lot of equipment to carry/set up, I am in the habit of being the first one to arrive. As time passed and I was STILL the only one there, I began to think that something might be unusual about the situation. About the time that I started to figure out that no one else was coming to this “retreat,” she brought out two bottles of wine and I had a decision to make:

I was a 22-year-old virgin and I was going to a combat zone where I might actually DIE. I had also never drank alcohol, or at least not more than a sip of my father’s beer when I was a kid–I was definitely going to be a lightweight. (Not drinking was more of that controlling-the-primal-urges business and, probably, another reason that I was a virgin.) I, objectively, factored in the new information and decided to start drinking–I drank more than half of the two bottles of wine.

We started tickling each other on the cabin’s couch (just a few feet from the cabin’s BED). When the tickling shifted to kissing and first-base-level petting, I asked her, “Are you sure that you want to do this?” Her response was an enthusiastic, “Oh Yes!” …Game On…

We were drinking, making out, and exploring each other’s bodies for a couple of hours before we moved onto the bed to start fucking. Needless to say, I was absolutely blasted and honestly don’t remember much about the sex. I do remember the first insertion as a sensation of entering into an incredibly warm and welcoming sleeve of “home.” I still experience that same sensation each time I enter Beautiful or Belle for the first time.

I also remember getting up in the night to go to the bathroom and finding that I was dizzy and couldn’t walk straight. To this day, that is the only time when I have been drunk. I didn’t like it and I don’t have any desire to repeat it.

Interesting points:

• I never talked to her about contraception or STD’s–idiot!
• I never asked her about her office retreat ruse. What if I had asked someone else in the office to share a ride? She could have lost her job–and I might have died a virgin
• She didn’t figure out that I was a virgin, so I must have done something right. In my defense, I did have lots of experience with foreplay–which continues to be one of my favorite parts of the sex act.
• I woke up the next morning to: “Beau, you’ve got to leave…my husband’s coming.” Oh Shit! Apparently, they were trying a reconciliation and she had invited him out to the (rented) cabin, thinking that he wouldn’t come. He had changed his mind and called her early that next morning. I’m glad he didn’t decide to surprise her.
• She wrote to me regularly while I was in Saudi Arabia, telling me about her divorce progress and the goings-on at our school.
• When I got back from Army, she and I got together a few more times, but we just weren’t matched for a long-term relationship and I have never dated women that I couldn’t marry (although with the TBK situation, I’ve modified the word “marry,” in my manifesto, to read “live with for the rest of my life” since we three aren’t allowed to get married. Stupid. Laws.)
• We talked about a time in the office (before the retreat), when she was sitting at her desk and I was working at organizing some papers on the floor. I was surreptitiously (I thought) looking up her skirt, and she was boldly helping me to find all the right angles. Those are moments that you don’t often get to discuss with the other person

Nota Bene: TBK has a rule that if you haven’t had sex for more than one year, you are again a virgin. TBK was my first sexual partner after entering widowerhood, and due to my wife’s health, I had not had sex for several years. Therefore, I can say that both times I lost my virginity, it was to a 34-year old cougar–although I wasn’t personally being cougared the second time.

Bonus Link Part 1; Bonus Link Part 2; Bonus Link Part 3; Bonus Link Part 4; Bonus Link Part 5; Bonus Link Part 6

I think of love-making as an improvisational real-time art. One has a repertoire of skills that can be applied in sequences and combinations that respond to his/her partner. As any talented musical improviser will tell you, some of the most exciting experiences are unexpected (and sometimes are the result of an error while trying something completely unrelated).

Bullet-point lists at the bottom of this post are examples from my repertoire. They are some things that I have found to work in what I think of as the four stages of cunnilingus. The creation of your own repertoire as well as the application and sequence of repertoire items are (in my opinion) the creative/artistic core of oral sex. Conceptual challenges like the following questions help me to focus my techniques into a strategic sequence:

How does the Buildup segue “in” from whatever was happening before?
How long can you keep her going back-and-forth between stages two and three?
How close can you get her to orgasm and how long can you keep her there without actually starting the orgasm?

I can’t emphasize enough that you must know what the woman likes and dislikes–and even what she wants on this particular day. If she had a bad day at work, she may not want you bruising her ass with spanking–or maybe she likes the escape provided by the pain. If it is your first time with this woman, you need to replace experience with active listening. The words she chooses to communicate with you–and even the tone of voice she uses to deliver those words–are the first clues (and they started long before you got into the bedroom). How fast/deep is she breathing, and what do changes in her breathing mean? Is she moaning? Does she moan sweetly when you touch a particular spot with your tongue? Did she like that spot, or the pressure, or what you were doing with your hands at the same time? How is she moving her body? She might be moving her body up so that your tongue will position lower on the pussy–don’t necessarily follow her movements with your whole head (you might be missing a signal). Tightening or shaking of the muscles of the legs, ass, abdomen, even arms, neck, and face, can be signals that her orgasm is coming soon. Our Beautiful is kind enough to announce her orgasms most of the time, but our Belle likes to keep the impending orgasm as much of a surprise as possible

I include repertoire items that involve more than just the tongue. Use your hands, legs, feet, beard, the weight of your head, anything you can think of to stimulate her entire body (not just her groin). For example, Beautiful enjoys being choked by my cock at the moment of orgasm and Belle likes to mix a bit of pain into the entire experience–it all comes back to knowing what she wants, but apply that knowledge to her entire body while going down on her.

Stage I: The Buildup.

The Buildup is, essentially, the foreplay of the foreplay. It is all about getting her into the mood for oral sex and getting her juices flowing. It’s also about getting your head to where it needs to be. Are you going to be doing a “69?” Are you going to be between her legs looking up at her face? Or are you going to be working from the side (which changes all of the mouth-to-pussy angles and can help you to break out of a rut if you ever find yourself in one.)

Stage II: Exploratory Tonguing.

Be creative here. Try different techniques from your repertoire, combining the tongue with the hands, feet, forehead, etc. Pay attention to what she does and doesn’t like during this stage so that when you are ready to attempt the orgasm, you have an idea of what will work.

Stage III: Repetitive Tonguing.

When you are ready to attempt the orgasm, choose something that was working for her that day (these don’t necessarily change from day-to-day), and begin to do it in a repetitive way. It is a good idea to start the technique slowly and lightly so that you a way to increase the urgency once she starts to respond (note her breathing, moaning, shouting, etc.) Another way to increase urgency is through the use of your hands. If you lady likes her nipples squeezed, save that for when her breathing has already started to speed up–you will have the choice of when to add the nipple squeezing to your tongue’s ministrations. In this manner, you will have many ways to help her to focus and build intensity when the time comes for her orgasm.

Stage IV: The Orgasm

When the actual orgasm arrives, I always try to add something into the mix. It could be a pinch from my toes, or an extra tug on her hair, or a change of tonguing technique (be careful not to do this too soon or the orgasm could be thwarted). The thing you add might be as simple as a nice warm hug, or as rough as a painful surprise spanking.

The following bullet points are sample repertoire items. Many of them may be used in multiple stages.

Stage I Mouth:

• Bite her on the mons.
• Brush lightly on her pubic hair (if she has any). Use: tongue, finger, breath, cheek, nose, beard.
• Lick from her knee up her thigh.
• Breathe on her everywhere.
• Bite/kiss her inner thigh

Stages I-IV Hands (and other parts of your body):

• Eye Contact!
• Press on her belly with your hands (very effective when she starts to cum also!)
• Tickling.
• Spanking.
• Press up (into her weight) on the bony base of her spine.
• Press up (into her weight) to massage her back and ass muscles.
• Finger her ass and/or g-spot (spongy tissue above opening on front wall of vagina).
• Pinch nipples.
• Press on neck/face.
• Pull down on her feet (as if stretching the length of her leg). This one sounds odd, but it works especially well when she is approaching her orgasm. If you have working mating claspers, they work very well for this purpose.
• Massage sides of outer lips (with fingers). The clitoris has two legs under the skin that extend outwards and down (towards the ass) along both sides of the lips.

Stages II-IV Mouth:

• Drag tongue (made wide and flat) over the entire organ from vaginal opening up past the clitoral hood.
• Flip her clitoris lightly with the tip of your tongue. (TBK’s favorite!) You can vary the speed and the pressure to suit her tastes and saliva (see “General Tips” below) helps a LOT with this technique.
• Suck her inner lips (as much of the organ as possible) into your mouth. Once it is in your mouth, you can use the tongue in the ways described above (The techniques should feel different for her when you are holding the inner lips in your mouth.) or use your tongue to flip some of her flesh onto your teeth.
• A new one I’ve been experimenting with is to press my tongue (made as firm as possible) into the clit, follow by firmly sucking the surrounding flesh up around the stationary tongue. This is a slow (or no) movement technique and it seems to be as effective as it is unusual. I’ll be interested to hear if anyone else has any luck with this particular technique.

General Tips:

• Neck, jaw, tongue must stay relaxed most of the time. There’s little worse than getting her almost ready to have her orgasm, then being forced to stop because your tongue is tired. This is bound to happen from time to time, but with relaxation, you can learn to avoid this problem.
• Saliva! Keep a small “well” of saliva in your mouth for the tongue to use like a paint brush. Applying saliva at the proper times can help you to control the timing of her orgasm. If you don’t already do this, experiment with it–I guarantee that you will have good results.
• Consider the balance between repetition and variety. Most women seem to need a repetitive action (one that is “working” for her that day) to get off. YOU get to decide when she gets that repetitive action–but don’t frustrate her too much She’ll likely be turning the tables on you soon.

These lists are not meant to be exhaustive–they are simply provided as examples of some of the things that have worked well for me. I (and the other readers) would be very appreciative if each of you commented with a tip of your own. Imagine the list we could create!

Bonus Link

One of the hesitations I’ve had about writing about sex on this blog is the point-of-view that one must take–that of an expert. Previous to meeting TBK, I had only slept with six women–I was certainly no expert. One of the things I told TBK when we first started dating was that, in spite of my inexperience, I would be the best learner (about sex) that she had ever seen. I’m still learning, and I don’t consider myself an expert yet, but give me a few more years of fucking Beautiful and Belle…

So, you may ask, what does this have to do with Cunnilingus Tips? I recently read (on a relationship website, no less) some advice to a Cunnilingus newbie. That advice: “Lick the Alphabet and you can’t go wrong.” Really?…that’s it? I have heard this advice before (Years ago.) but I thought, even with what I knew then, that it was childishly superficial. Today’s Beau read that same advice and was SHOCKED to see that it was being seriously offered as sex advice to oral sex novices.

Anyone who offers this particular advice should be IMMEDIATELY be asked, “Why are you an expert?” If this is the most helpful thing they have to offer on such a complex and wonderfully intimate connection between two people, then they don’t deserve the role of advisor! And you, as someone who recognizes the superficiality (or downright ignorance) of their advice, have an obligation to less worldly readers to point out the silliness of the so-called advice.

So, while I don’t consider myself a sexual expert, I consider myself a good teacher and compared to the person giving the advice above, I AM a fucking expert. …And you can put the emphasis on either of those last two words…

The most important thing to remember is that every woman is different–you could add that every woman might be different every day. This is why pithy little one-sentence advice is so worthless. (And anyone who has gone down on two or more women should damn-well know that.) For example: the Beautiful LOVES direct clitoral stimulation with the tongue, but the Belle’s clit is often irritated by direct stimulation and she prefers my tongue’s attentions be paid to her inner lips and her vaginal opening.

Here is a general sequence to follow. You’ll need to tailor the relative lengths of the stages to each woman, but most women will enjoy having all of the different stages extant:

1. Buildup (pre- tongue on the pussy)
2. Exploratory Tonguing (finding out what she wants today)
3. Repetition Tonguing (Once you find something that is working for her, do it repeatedly for a while to attempt the crossover to orgasm. You might intentionally stop this short to return to the Exploratory steps if you don’t want her to cum yet.)
4. Orgasm (Once here, you might be able to heighten the experience for her if you can find the right combination of things that she needs.

Tomorrow, I will be posting my suggestions for specific techniques to be used in each of these four stages. I thought I might close today with a quick note about WHERE the clitoris is–I know there are men out there who don’t know. (I wonder if there are any women who don’t know where it is? Probably.)

Here is a photo of two very different pussies:

The red arrows point to the clitoris’ home. Notice the “V”-shaped flap of skin just about a millimeter above where the arrow is pointing, that is the clitoral hood (which covers the clitoris). Licking up into (and under) this “V” is an easy way to find the clit–even if you are in a dark room, or you are making eye contact with your lady and want access to the clit without looking away from her beautiful eyes!

Bonus Link

Let me start by saying that I’ve never been a very successful rapist. With TBK’s eager help, I’m beginning to get the hang of it TBK has already posted her point of view about this experience here.

Let me set the stage: TBK is in the shower at the end of a fairly long day of walking, sight-seeing and tourist traps. I’m in the room planning for our love-making session–although this one wasn’t going to qualify for her definition of “love-making.” Let’s call it a fuck-session.

I opened the curtains. We were on the second floor and our room overlooked a tennis court. It was dusk and there were a few people playing a match just outside of our window. I adjusted the lights in the room so that there would be just enough light for someone outside to see us lit from behind. I decided to surprise her without warning as soon as she came out of the shower.

On her first step out of the shower, I grabbed her and pushed her roughly onto the nearest bed. “You’ve been dressing like a tease. You DO realize that there is a price to be paid for that kind of behavior.” The price began to be paid by some enthusiastic spanking. I was a bit nervous about this one because the walls of this particular hotel were paper thin and I could hear our co-travellers talking as they passed our room in the hallway. Not only was the spanking very loud, but her cries were even louder. My nervousness about noise-making aside, she needed to be punished

…She was fighting me throughout the story of this post. Every time she pleaded for me to stop hurting her, fucking her head into the window, etc., I had to fight with myself to continue. Each time she said something like, “Please, No more, I can’t stand it!”, I had to remind myself that she had a safeword and that she hadn’t used it. Did she forget about it? is she avoiding it because of her pride in never having used it? Not my problem–continue…

Even though my hand has just been smacking her bare ass, she doesn’t want the intimacy of a kiss on the mouth. I decided that she WAS going to kiss me–whether she liked it or not. I started by smacking her. Try to kiss, she refuses, SMACK on the face. Try to kiss, she refuses, SMACK on the face. Try to kiss, she refuses, bite her on the cheek. “OW! Don’t bite me!” Try to kiss, she refuses, bite her on the face. “OW! You’re going to leave a mark!” “You had better kiss me.” Try to kiss her, she submits. Spank her ass, while kissing her on the mouth, with her kissing me back.

After a few minutes of warming up on the bed, I decided to move to step two–the window. I got up, grabbing a handful of hair, dragged her over to the window and pushed her down onto the footstool next to the window. My original plan was to face-fuck her until I was completely hard, but I was already there. Consequently, we just did a token (brief) face-fucking session and moved on to the actual window fucking. I, again, used her hair to push her face up against the window, then stood behind her stooped body. As I pushed into her slowly (still holding the handful of hair) her face was pressed into the cold window. I was slightly disappointed to see that the tennis players were no longer on the court below.

…I should add here that the initial insertion is one of my favorite moments in the sex act. It always feels to me like I’m coming home–like I’m returning to a place where I truly belong! For this reason, I try to draw it out, savoring the moment for as long as I possibly can…

Once I was inside of her, no more gentleness today. I immediately started fucking her violently. My left hand was pulling on its fist-full of hair and my right hand was reaching around her waist locking the fingers into her hip bone for leverage–That little fuck-handle is almost enough to make me think that the female body was intelligently designed…almost. We fucked in that position for some time. Most of this time her face was pressed into the glass, but on one particularly hard thrust, her face came away from the glass just long enough to be SLAMMED back into it. That was actually an accident–I NEVER would have intentionally hit the window that hard for fear of breaking the glass. …Sorry about that, Beautiful!…

Eventually, I spun her around and threw her, face-down, onto the second bed for step three. I fell onto her and mounted her from behind, continuing the rough fucking. There were still sporadic spankings, bitings, and mild breath play mixed into the fucking. At one point, there was a tentative knock on our door. TBK didn’t hear it and was continuing with her screaming and fighting. I pushed her face into the pillow while I listened for another knock. I thought someone might have heard her and thought that she was genuinely being hurt. I was thinking about how I would respond and a line from some movie came to mind: “How quaint.” It was someone who was actually committing violence and the woman (who was actually a captive under duress) pretended to be condescending to someone who didn’t recognize the sound of fucking. …Can anyone remember the name of that movie?… Anyway, the knock didn’t repeat and we continued until we (I) got tired. During part three, I did stop a couple of times to warn her about what was going to happen if she dressed so provocatively again.

The next day, she didn’t wear a bra.

Bonus Link

B-Diddle blogs because Beau breaks.
“Alliterations are always amusing!” …An actual (and accurate) assertion around our abode…

Bonus Link

Bonus Link 2