<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6241704089440477742</id><updated>2011-11-27T23:24:16.315-05:00</updated><category term='Mr. J'/><category term='Everyday Life'/><category term='Remembering'/><category term='Mr. J.'/><category term='Teacher J'/><category term='Mr. L'/><category term='Picasso'/><category term='Policeman J'/><category term='Neighbor C'/><category term='Countryboy'/><category term='Slump'/><category term='Tech Guy'/><category term='Blackberry problems'/><category term='Tex'/><category term='AFF'/><category term='The Alchemist'/><category term='Spring Fever'/><category term='Goodbye'/><category term='Mr. B'/><category term='Mr and Mrs'/><category term='Morning Fun'/><category term='Advice'/><category term='BB'/><category term='Moving'/><category term='100th Post'/><category term='Men in General'/><category term='Mr. Z'/><category term='Gator'/><category term='Medic J'/><category term='Fantasy'/><category term='Double D'/><category term='bio'/><category term='Mr. Gray'/><category term='Mr. M'/><category term='Hard Lesson'/><category term='Mistakes'/><category term='Second Thoughts'/><category term='Ashley Madison'/><category term='Mr. S'/><category term='Fireman C'/><category term='Hubby'/><category term='IT J'/><category term='HNT'/><category term='Jack'/><category term='Books'/><title type='text'>The Confessions of a Married Lover</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6241704089440477742/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Married Lover</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07379164686571856070</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_198Iuo0-xII/S5HBGDv3OGI/AAAAAAAAAKE/yTPHcwWI8cw/S220/Sheet.JPG'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>95</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6241704089440477742.post-1705354147967957596</id><published>2011-11-27T23:20:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2011-11-27T23:24:16.325-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Moving'/><title type='text'>Make a move</title><content type='html'>I've decided to come back to blogging, but I'm moving the blog.  It can now be found at &lt;a href="https://confessionsofamarriedlover.wordpress.com"&gt;https://confessionsofamarriedlover.wordpress.com&lt;/a&gt;  Please journey over to the new place to see what has been going on these many months.  Oh, and there's a chance a dear friend of mine will begin to add his own ramblings.  Even I can't wait for what he has to say!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6241704089440477742-1705354147967957596?l=confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/feeds/1705354147967957596/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/2011/11/make-move.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6241704089440477742/posts/default/1705354147967957596'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6241704089440477742/posts/default/1705354147967957596'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/2011/11/make-move.html' title='Make a move'/><author><name>Married Lover</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07379164686571856070</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_198Iuo0-xII/S5HBGDv3OGI/AAAAAAAAAKE/yTPHcwWI8cw/S220/Sheet.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6241704089440477742.post-5993286166902425597</id><published>2011-02-09T19:25:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2011-02-09T19:28:27.345-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='HNT'/><title type='text'>HNT: Baby it's cold out there</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-yxw5mWD1cvM/TVMwno_k01I/AAAAAAAAARk/DLR0nG81SSA/s1600/Scarf.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 265px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-yxw5mWD1cvM/TVMwno_k01I/AAAAAAAAARk/DLR0nG81SSA/s320/Scarf.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5571850621564539730" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The temperature is dropping yet again tonight and snow is in the forecast for tomorrow.&lt;br /&gt;I guess I'll need to stay bundled up tonight...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6241704089440477742-5993286166902425597?l=confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/feeds/5993286166902425597/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/2011/02/hnt-baby-its-cold-out-there.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6241704089440477742/posts/default/5993286166902425597'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6241704089440477742/posts/default/5993286166902425597'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/2011/02/hnt-baby-its-cold-out-there.html' title='HNT: Baby it&apos;s cold out there'/><author><name>Married Lover</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07379164686571856070</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_198Iuo0-xII/S5HBGDv3OGI/AAAAAAAAAKE/yTPHcwWI8cw/S220/Sheet.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-yxw5mWD1cvM/TVMwno_k01I/AAAAAAAAARk/DLR0nG81SSA/s72-c/Scarf.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6241704089440477742.post-2321215457344745965</id><published>2011-02-09T18:57:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2011-02-09T18:58:18.910-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Fantasy'/><title type='text'>Finally Together</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;" id="internal-source-marker_0.12967232285517938"&gt;It’s  finally happened.  We’re together for an entire night, and technically  we’re not lying about it.  You were able to make arrangements to be in  the area at the same time I attend a two-day conference.  It seems such a  waste for both of us to pay for separate rooms but it’s better to play  it safe.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"&gt;I  finish with my last meeting before dinner.  I head back to the hotel to  shower and change for our dinner.  You text me just as I start getting  dressed.  You’re running late and tell me to head on to the restaurant.   I take a picture of myself in my black bra and panties and send it to  you.  Before i can finish dressing, you text back telling me to forget  the panties.  I laugh and reply with a “No way!”.  I get your “lol” in  reply.  I finish dressing, sleeveless maxi dress, and head out to the  restaurant.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"&gt;I’m  on my second glass of water by the time you arrive.  Of course, I don’t  know that until you come up behind me to lean down and softly kiss my  exposed neck.  I reach back with my left hand to run my fingers through  your hair as you move to nibble on my ear lobe.  I sigh as you give me  one final kiss behind my ear.  I’m sure I have a sappy look on my face  when you sit across from me.  You just laugh and ask if I liked that.  I  just stick out my tongue in answer which makes you laugh even more.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"&gt;We  share a nice dinner... discuss our day and what’s coming up in our  lives.  Afterward, we walk over to Waterfront Park.  The sun is just  setting so we find a bench to enjoy the view.  You place your arm around  me so you can caress the back of my neck.  I turn towards you; place my  hand around your neck and pull you in for a kiss.  As always, our  kisses start out small and work up to full out passion.  I don’t feel  your other hand run up my thigh and over my hip.  Suddenly, you pull  back from the kiss.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"&gt;“Why you Little Devil!”, you say with shortened breath.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"&gt;“Surprise”, I whisper with a smile.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"&gt;You  return the smile and lean back for another kiss.  I feel your hand  reach around me and grab my ass cheek.  I moan with pleasure as I the  feel of your hand press the material of the dress against my skin.  I  pull away from the kiss.  You voice your displeasure with a groaned,  “What?”.  We’re both breathing hard. One of my legs is draped over your  legs; I’m practically straddling your lap in a public park.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"&gt;I  get up, slowly, and walk over to the railing to over look the harbor.   You come up behind me; wrap your arms around me; and place soft kisses  on my neck and shoulders.  “What’s wrong?”, in between kisses.  I  whisper, “Nothing”.  That’s when you realize that I’ve walked to an area  with lots of high bushes and a little bit of privacy.  You give a soft  laugh as your hands make their way from my waist  up to my breasts.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"&gt;My  breathing increases as both your hands cup my breasts and begin to  caress them.  I put my hands around your wrists so you don’t stop.  I  press my ass against your crotch causing you to increase the pressure on  my breasts.  I moan and grind harder.  You break the hold I have on  your hands, and place my hands on the railing in front of me. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"&gt;“Lean over,” you whisper in my ear.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"&gt;I  have no idea what you plan on doing, but I lean closer to the railing  while keeping my ass against your crotch.  You run your hands over my  shoulders; across my back; and down to my hips.  I think you’re going to  grab me hard at the hips, but you don’t.  Instead, you slowly pull my  dress up.  The cool air against my legs sends shivers all over my body.   I can feel my nipples getting hard.  Just when I think you’re going to  expose me, you put your hands under the fabric and let it fall back  down.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"&gt;Feeling  your fingers against my bare skin sends shivers down my spin.  I  squeeze the railing until my knuckles turn white as you slowly run just  the tips of your fingers over my hips.  I know why you’re caressing me  in such a way.  You know how sensitive I am in that area and relish  driving me crazy.  You lean in against my back and place your lips at  the base of my neck.  I draw in a deep quick breath at the feel of your  lips against my skin.  I make a move to turn around and face you, but  you hold me in place with your hands.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"&gt;“No”, you whisper against my ear.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"&gt;“Why?” I gasp.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"&gt;Instead  of answering me, I feel your hands move around my hips...sliding across  my belly.  I suck in a breath as your fingers meet just over my belly  button.  You don’t move your hands.  They just rest comfortably against  my skin.  Then you move as close to me as possible.  I can feel how hard  you are as you spoon your groin against my ass.  I can’t help but grind  back against you.  You give a short growl at the feel of your hard cock  straining against your pants... thinking about how it’ll feel to be  flesh to flesh.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"&gt;We  stand this way for several minutes.  Not talking.  Just enjoying the  feel of each other.  You let me turn around when I make a move to face  you.  Your hands slip out from under my dress, and you rest them against  my hips.  I frame your face with my hands; rubbing my thumbs over your  cheeks and lips.  I kiss you softly on the lips; nibble on them.  Your  hands grab the fabric of my dress and you pull me closer to you.  We  stand breast to chest; kissing softly... our lips, cheeks, ears, necks.   The slow stimulation drives us both crazy until we’re panting from the  excitement.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"&gt;Neither  one of us can remember the walk from the park back to the hotel.  It  seems as if we were in a dream and finally wake up in our room.  You’re  pulling the straps of my dress slowly down my shoulders until my breasts  are exposed.  Instead of pulling it all the way down, like I think  you’re going to do, you begin caressing my breasts by cupping them close  together...bra and all.  I think I heard you whisper, “Thank you,  Victoria Secret”, but I’m not exactly sure.  Before I can ask you begin  to place soft kissing on the swells of my breasts.  Your tongue drawing  wet lines across my flesh which cause chills when the cool air from the  AC unit make contact with the moisture.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"&gt;I  can feel my nipples hardening into pebbles under the cups of my bra.   Just when I think I’m going to go crazy from the excitement, you pull  down one side of my bra.  The air hitting the already hard flesh just  makes it harden even more.  I throw my head back with a moan as I feel  your warm lips wrap around the my flesh.  As you begin to suck, I can  feel your tongue flicking the nipple.  I grab the back of your neck to  hold you tight against me.  I’m so lost in the sensation of your lips  and tongue that I don’t feel you pulling my dress up in the front.  At  the same time I feel the cool air against my legs, I feel your fingers  begin to caress my slit.  I stand up on my toes in response to your  fingers against my warm, moist flesh.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"&gt;You  laugh against my nipple.  You give it one my slow lick before looking  up at me. When your eyes met mine, you whisper “Lay down”.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"&gt;You  ease me onto the bed so that my legs hang over the edge of the  mattress.  You gently lower yourself onto my body.  Your lips tease the  skin behind my left ear...down my chin...and across my lips.  I move to  kiss you fully on the lips but you pull away.  I moan in frustration but  you only laugh.  It seems you’re going to enjoy driving me crazy by  taking your sweet time bringing us both pleasure.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"&gt;I  can’t stand it anymore.  Wrapping my hand around your neck and kissing  you deeply and passionately, I slide my leg around you, wrapping my body  even closer and easily roll on top, you welcome the control. I raise  up, begin to unbutton your shirt.  With only a few buttons undone I  start to glide my hands over your chest feeling your skin. My fingertips  trace invisible lines along your chest and stomach leaving ripples of  goose bumps in their wake. I lean ever so slowly back down onto you. I  can feel your hard cock through your pants, my pulse quickens. My juices  begin to flow.  It feels like a river is about to flow down my legs.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"&gt;I  lean over you and kiss you deeply, our tongues fighting for control  between our lips.  I can feel your hands on the back of my thighs;  moving slowly up to the curve of my ass.  You don’t stop there.  After a  squeeze to each cheek, your hands continue across my lower back, my  back, my shoulder blades and onto my shoulders.  You’ve successfully  raised my dress and all I have to do is pull it over my arms, and off.   I lean back against you again so you can see my breasts and hard  nipples.  You immediately cup a breast in each hand.  I can’t help but  moan and arch my back.  You take each nipple between your thumbs and  index fingers.... and twist.  The sensation that moves through me makes  me grind my wet pussy against your cock.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"&gt;The  pleasure you get from my pleasure is too much for you.  You roll me off  of you.  Before I can say a word you’re standing beside the  bed...taking off your clothes.  In no time at all you’re naked, just  like me.  You rejoin me in the center of the bed; between the nice silk  sheets.  You crawl in between my legs, and settle your hard cock against  my wet pussy.  Just as your about to work your way inside I stop you.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"&gt;You  give me a look of absolute horror.  I can see in your expression that  you’re thinking I’m having second thoughts.  I smile up at you; give you  a tantalizing kiss; and whisper “I want to be on top”.  You laugh in  relief and accommodate me.  As I straddle your body, I think to  myself....”I’m such a lucky woman and I never want this relationship to  end.”  I can’t wait to have you inside me so I don’t waste another  moment.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"&gt;Gently,  slowly, every movement controlled as I take you in each time, over and  over. Feeling you penetrate to the deepest depths, squeezing you with  waves of warm pleasure. You say something that sounds like "you're  driving me crazy," but I am lost as I feel the fire building within me.  My muscles contracting and in that moment, the white blaze burning  through me. I move my arms over my head, knotting my fingers in my hair,  my back arches as my body shutters in orgasmic pleasure.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"&gt;I  can tell that you needed the control as you fiercely roll me over,  burying your head in my neck, sucking and kissing all the tender  erogenous places there. Gripping my leg with one hand and holding  yourself up with the other, positioning yourself to move inside me.  Teasing me with tip of your concrete like shaft, tickling my clit and  sliding down to my sweet spot, popping inside and back out again.  Bringing me to the brink and letting me back down again. Finally, I feel  you enter me in one deep penetrating motion. A rush of pleasure rolled  over me, completing me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"&gt;Feeling  myself loosing control and you gaining it as you kiss my neck, moving  up to my jaw line, to my ear and then down again, to my chest and then  my breasts, teasing my nipples all the while still moving in and out of  me with forceful, but still gentle thrusts.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"&gt;I  reach up to run my fingers up along your jaw line, behind your ear and  wrap my fingers around the back of your neck, you rear your head back  exposing your neck, pulling your head down closer to me, I kiss your  neck moving to your lips, moaning as I climax.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"&gt;Both  of us can feel it now, it's getting close. You slow down, pulling away  from me, sliding your hands down my chest, over my breasts, down the  sides of my stomach to my hips. Your touch is electrifying.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"&gt;Realizing  that you are moving me down, you are already off the bed, standing,  knowing what you want now, knowing that you want to finish from behind. I  roll over and smile over my shoulder at you as you place one hand on my  hip and the other on my shoulder. I can feel you pull me back on to  you, I moan in pleasure.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"&gt;I  can feel the pressure from your hand on my hip and the pull from your  other hand on my shoulder; I give in as you hold me tight in position as  you penetrate deeper, harder into me, over and over. I'm louder now,  not being able to control my volume, I can hear you and you are panting  more and more.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"&gt;My  muscles tighten and I release with it a loud gust of pleasure as I  climax again. You can feel me tighten around you, contracting, molding  myself to you; it builds and builds, then you jolt pushing yourself as  deep as possible into me, filling me. Both our bodies shutter in  pleasure and exhaustion. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"&gt;You  collapse against my back; kissing my shoulders, neck and hair.  I  slowly roll onto my side and pull myself back into the middle of the  bed.  You spoon up against my back; your left arm comes around me to  take a breast in your hand.  Your other hand caresses my hair; pulling  it back off my face and behind my ear.  You kiss the skin behind my ear  and place small gentle kisses along the edge of the ear.  I sigh in  pleasure and snuggle back against you.  I can feel your cock getting  hard again, but the pleasure of feeling your skin against mine is as  much of a pleasure.  I remove your hand from my breast; thread our  fingers together, and place our hands over my heart.  It doesn’t seem  possible but you pull me back against you even more. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"&gt;For  a few minutes, neither one of us say anything.  Then as if we’re both  thinking the same thing we whisper, “I love you”, at the same time.   After that, sleep claims us both; flesh to flesh.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6241704089440477742-2321215457344745965?l=confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/feeds/2321215457344745965/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/2011/02/finally-together.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6241704089440477742/posts/default/2321215457344745965'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6241704089440477742/posts/default/2321215457344745965'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/2011/02/finally-together.html' title='Finally Together'/><author><name>Married Lover</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07379164686571856070</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_198Iuo0-xII/S5HBGDv3OGI/AAAAAAAAAKE/yTPHcwWI8cw/S220/Sheet.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6241704089440477742.post-447762918558408261</id><published>2010-12-30T21:24:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2010-12-30T21:39:14.304-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='HNT'/><title type='text'>HNT: Favorite of 2010</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_198Iuo0-xII/S6rJzr_mGqI/AAAAAAAAALY/jgrhEAr3xCo/s1600/IMG_1559.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 442px; height: 445px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_198Iuo0-xII/S6rJzr_mGqI/AAAAAAAAALY/jgrhEAr3xCo/s1600/IMG_1559.JPG" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I didn't keep up with my HNT pictures like I had hoped in 2010, but I hope to remedy that in 2011.  It was easy for me to pick a favorite for 2010, though.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6241704089440477742-447762918558408261?l=confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/feeds/447762918558408261/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/2010/12/hnt-favorite-of-2010.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6241704089440477742/posts/default/447762918558408261'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6241704089440477742/posts/default/447762918558408261'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/2010/12/hnt-favorite-of-2010.html' title='HNT: Favorite of 2010'/><author><name>Married Lover</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07379164686571856070</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_198Iuo0-xII/S5HBGDv3OGI/AAAAAAAAAKE/yTPHcwWI8cw/S220/Sheet.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_198Iuo0-xII/S6rJzr_mGqI/AAAAAAAAALY/jgrhEAr3xCo/s72-c/IMG_1559.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6241704089440477742.post-5652755919865956206</id><published>2010-12-22T22:53:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2010-12-22T22:55:25.248-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='HNT'/><title type='text'>HNT: Merry Grinchmas!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_198Iuo0-xII/TRLH8wowU7I/AAAAAAAAARM/lyAdIVuecN4/s1600/IMG_3083.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 285px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_198Iuo0-xII/TRLH8wowU7I/AAAAAAAAARM/lyAdIVuecN4/s400/IMG_3083.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5553721137163162546" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Merry Grinchmas to All and to All a good night!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6241704089440477742-5652755919865956206?l=confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/feeds/5652755919865956206/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/2010/12/hnt-merry-grinchmas.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6241704089440477742/posts/default/5652755919865956206'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6241704089440477742/posts/default/5652755919865956206'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/2010/12/hnt-merry-grinchmas.html' title='HNT: Merry Grinchmas!!'/><author><name>Married Lover</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07379164686571856070</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_198Iuo0-xII/S5HBGDv3OGI/AAAAAAAAAKE/yTPHcwWI8cw/S220/Sheet.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_198Iuo0-xII/TRLH8wowU7I/AAAAAAAAARM/lyAdIVuecN4/s72-c/IMG_3083.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6241704089440477742.post-1122828842127391242</id><published>2010-12-18T19:33:00.006-05:00</published><updated>2010-12-18T22:30:39.003-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Advice'/><title type='text'>Please...have a seat on my couch.</title><content type='html'>I was recently contacted by an anonymous reader.  She was wanting my advice on a situation she's currently involved in.  I'll admit that I was scared to death about replying to her email.  I didn't want to offend her or give advice that completely screwed things up for her.  Lucky, I did neither.  She gave me her permission to use her email to supplement my advice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hi there!&lt;br /&gt;I have been reading your blog &amp;amp; thought it was very interesting!!  My husband is a good caring hard working man however our sex life has dwindled, we have tried lots of different  ways to spice it up but i think it is me, i just don't find him  physically attractive.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;I can relate to the issue of  the sex  at home not being good and then finding someone who literally  rocks  your world.  The euphoria goes straight to your head, and all you  can  think about is the next meeting.  It's almost like an addiction.    You're always wanting that "high" from the earth-shattering orgasms.    But I'll be honest with you... that high eventually becomes routine.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For years at my workplace i really fancied this guy,  although we work in the same place both of us part time, we rarely come  into contact with each other.  Over the past 2 years i tried to make eye contact with  him while working,and each time our shift was over, bear in mind we  rarely worked together, i fantasized about him, on our breaks we used to  talk about our private lives but that was it, there was no other  interest but i liked his personality.I was always thrilled when i was told i would be on his  floor, but always left frustrated, trying to think of a way how i could  show him i was interested.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One evening i had enough and knew i had to do something,  so at the end of the shift, i gave him my e-mail address and said if  ever you would like to talk some more about your problems, you can  e-mail me, he looked surprised and took it.A few days later i was absolutely thrilled to find an  e-mail from him, my heart was beating fast, we began exchanging e-mails.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway he returned my mail and said he was interested  too, so we started meeting up, to cut a long story short, we have been  seeing each other about once every 10 days. I meet him locally and then we go back to his place and oh my goodness, the sex is absolutely amazing!!!!!!!!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Can you imagine the chemistry, we are sooooooo crazy together sexually, 100% compatible.  The way he makes love is out of this world. The day after i feel like i am on this cloud, on another planet, everything is aching, i have massive orgasms that are like  fits. Never did i imagine i would experience fairytale sex.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;I  can only speak from my own personal  experiences, and after almost two  years of having affairs I can say  that the "high" for me has worn off.   I've been lucky enough to find  The One who satisfies me  and returns my  feelings.  Feelings are the  tricky thing about having affairs.  It can  be so easy to confuse those  earth-shattering orgasms with love.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The sex is that brilliant that sometimes for 2 - 3 days,  my lower region feels like it is full, i don't mean inside, it just feels  like all the blood has rushed there and hasn't moved, it sometimes can  be uncomfortable, it is because i think of the massive intense orgasms i  experience, i have been asleep for soooo long.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway time has passed, it is around 3 months and we met up again a few evenings ago, once again mind blowing sex.The dilemma is he has made it clear to me from the beginning he doe snot want any commitment.  I asked him what he thinks of me and he says i am special but just a good friend.My feelings for him are different, i do love him, i feel very linked to him, we are worlds apart.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Your friend is like many, many men out  there.  He's had  his go at commitment and things didn't work out.  I'm  not saying that he  can't commitment, but he's not wanting to jump from  one relationship to  another.  It's the old school saying "he's playing  the field".  I know  you love him but you have to ask yourself... what  happens when he does  return that love and asks you to leave your  husband.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I read your blogs and see you are very open minded, how can i make him more attached to me, do you have any bedroom tips. He loves oral but i can't get his dick deep in my mouth, i  can only get the end bit in or i feel my teeth touching it, he admitted  that i had hurt him a bit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;As for keeping him happy... not many  men enjoy teeth but  it's all in the technique.  I've been known to  lightly run my teeth up  the length of a man's cock.  The trick is not  to apply any pressure.   That same goes for teeth and the tip of his  cock.  Instead of trying to  give him an old-fashioned blowjob (since he  sounds to be well endowed),  trying licking him.  Think of his cock as a  lollipop and see how many  licks it takes to get to the "center".  Now  there are other ways of  keeping him happy without giving him a blowjob.   Caress him.  Tickle  him.  Tease him.  Send him pictures like the HNT  ones I've and other  have taken.  Anything you can think of that makes  him think of you  throughout the day.  So when you do meet he can't wait  to get you in  bed.  It's the unexpected that get men going the most...  at least in my  experiences.   &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Can you offer me any sexual advice so i can really keep  him happy, i would not want him to go with anybody else, he said the  same about me, he said he would be very jealous, its like he doesn't want  me but he doesn't want anybody else to have me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;But I must  be truthful with you, if  he hasn't returned your love in this amount of  time then I'm afraid  that he never will.  Pleasing him more in bed  isn't going to make him  love you; it's only going to make him want the  fucking more.  Give him  more variety or orgasms doesn't equal love.   Showing love comes from  little touches that's not related to sex; it's  that unexpected kiss or  smile during the day; it's not related to the  bedroom.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thanks for taking the time to read this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;I don't mean to offend you with  anything I've  said, but I felt it was best to be honest.  When having  affairs while  being married, it's best to keep things "light and  friendly".  Having  only one person in the affair with feelings of love  usually makes it  difficult to keep the friendship.  Making sure you  have a friend and not  just a "fuck buddy" will  make a world of  difference in your  relationship.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6241704089440477742-1122828842127391242?l=confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/feeds/1122828842127391242/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/2010/12/pleasei-have-seat-on-my-couch.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6241704089440477742/posts/default/1122828842127391242'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6241704089440477742/posts/default/1122828842127391242'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/2010/12/pleasei-have-seat-on-my-couch.html' title='Please...have a seat on my couch.'/><author><name>Married Lover</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07379164686571856070</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_198Iuo0-xII/S5HBGDv3OGI/AAAAAAAAAKE/yTPHcwWI8cw/S220/Sheet.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6241704089440477742.post-950553823171694832</id><published>2010-12-15T21:28:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2010-12-15T21:32:44.472-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='HNT'/><title type='text'>HNT: Tangled</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_198Iuo0-xII/TQl5jKuZ_LI/AAAAAAAAARE/oTQk6-F2rLY/s1600/Tree.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 385px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_198Iuo0-xII/TQl5jKuZ_LI/AAAAAAAAARE/oTQk6-F2rLY/s400/Tree.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5551101660792224946" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;font-family:georgia, bookman old style, palatino linotype, book antiqua, palatino, trebuchet ms, helvetica, garamond, sans-serif, arial, verdana, avante garde, century gothic, comic sans ms, times, times new roman, serif;" &gt;No matter how carefully you stored the lights last year, they will be snarled again this Christmas.  ~Robert Kirby&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6241704089440477742-950553823171694832?l=confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/feeds/950553823171694832/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/2010/12/hnt-tangled.html#comment-form' title='10 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6241704089440477742/posts/default/950553823171694832'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6241704089440477742/posts/default/950553823171694832'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/2010/12/hnt-tangled.html' title='HNT: Tangled'/><author><name>Married Lover</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07379164686571856070</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_198Iuo0-xII/S5HBGDv3OGI/AAAAAAAAAKE/yTPHcwWI8cw/S220/Sheet.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_198Iuo0-xII/TQl5jKuZ_LI/AAAAAAAAARE/oTQk6-F2rLY/s72-c/Tree.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>10</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6241704089440477742.post-9163976859931776371</id><published>2010-12-08T20:21:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2010-12-17T23:49:55.021-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Mistakes'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Gator'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Hard Lesson'/><title type='text'>You just never know</title><content type='html'>Recently I got a text from Gator telling me that he was "a fucking idiot".   At first I thought he was joking but I soon found out there was nothing funny going on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For those of who may not remember, Gator is a guy I met via Blackberry Messenger.  He's a sweet, yet extremely horny, 20-something year old guy.  He's crazy about his little boy which is how it should be, and he obviously loves his wife.  Gator and I have been come close friends since our chatting began in May.  I'll admit that we exchange racy pictures but our talks are not all about sex.  Friendship is our main thing, and I'm certainly happy with his friendship.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I mentioned, Gator is extremely horny.  So much so that he shares his racy pictures which anyone woman on BBM that would like to see them.  In his defense, he only sends his pictures after he's received one from whichever lady he's chatting with.  This is something millions of people over the world do on a daily basis.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Imagine my surprise when the "I'm a fucking idiot" comment came from a him sharing pictures with another BBM contact a few months ago.  The bigger surprise was that it's the husband of the woman Gator was chatting with.  It seems that this woman (wife and mother and what I would call a "closet slut") shared with Gator and he returned the favor.  Admittedly, he got very serious about her... even to the point of wanting me to join the two of them in a 3some.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't remember what exactly happened but around two months ago Gator found out that her "these are just for you pics" were went to 5-10 different guys and a few websites.  He felt used and stopped chatting with her.  I guess she didn't like that because within days Gator was getting PIN messages about him threatening her and making comments.  I'm not sure if any of that is true  but by then the whole thing was getting to be a little like high school.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Flash forward to this month... The "I'm a fucking idiot" comment was over the fact that this woman's husband filed a complaint against Gator because a few of his racy pics were taken while he was in his uniform.  There's been an investigation; he may lose his job and if he does then he'll have to come clean to his wife about why which may lead to him losing his family.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm not defending him because it was a stupid thing to do.  However, to me the whole thing seems so childish and petty.  If the husband is upset about his wife accepting pictures of other men's cocks, then he should be asking her why she did it in the first place.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gator's whole experience reaffirm why I'm so cautious about sharing personal information with people you really don't know.  Because of my profession, I can easily tell from a person's body language and phrases whether I really want them to know who I am or see me buck naked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, my advance to anyone who is thinking about sharing the hot picture with this guy/gal from in Timbuktu... does you gut really believe them when they say they're harmless?  or is the voice in the back of your head sending you some warning about seeing yourself on that amateur picture site you like to visit occasionally?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Think before you send.&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://weblogs.mozillazine.org/gerv/archives/2007/images/internet_dog.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 356px; height: 398px;" src="http://weblogs.mozillazine.org/gerv/archives/2007/images/internet_dog.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6241704089440477742-9163976859931776371?l=confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/feeds/9163976859931776371/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/2010/12/you-just-never-know.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6241704089440477742/posts/default/9163976859931776371'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6241704089440477742/posts/default/9163976859931776371'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/2010/12/you-just-never-know.html' title='You just never know'/><author><name>Married Lover</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07379164686571856070</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_198Iuo0-xII/S5HBGDv3OGI/AAAAAAAAAKE/yTPHcwWI8cw/S220/Sheet.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6241704089440477742.post-6338001482140816836</id><published>2010-12-08T20:02:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2010-12-08T20:09:15.572-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='HNT'/><title type='text'>HNT: Flannels</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_198Iuo0-xII/TQArwsnRBSI/AAAAAAAAAQw/-Jh8dyaa2oQ/s1600/IMG_2911.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 287px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_198Iuo0-xII/TQArwsnRBSI/AAAAAAAAAQw/-Jh8dyaa2oQ/s400/IMG_2911.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5548482856530019618" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The temperature is dropping quickly these days.&lt;br /&gt;That means the flannel pajamas are coming out of the drawers.&lt;br /&gt;But that doesn't mean that I can't wear my sexy panties underneath. ;-)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6241704089440477742-6338001482140816836?l=confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/feeds/6338001482140816836/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/2010/12/hnt-flannels.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6241704089440477742/posts/default/6338001482140816836'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6241704089440477742/posts/default/6338001482140816836'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/2010/12/hnt-flannels.html' title='HNT: Flannels'/><author><name>Married Lover</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07379164686571856070</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_198Iuo0-xII/S5HBGDv3OGI/AAAAAAAAAKE/yTPHcwWI8cw/S220/Sheet.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_198Iuo0-xII/TQArwsnRBSI/AAAAAAAAAQw/-Jh8dyaa2oQ/s72-c/IMG_2911.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6241704089440477742.post-5758035725523716119</id><published>2010-11-17T22:34:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2010-11-17T22:37:19.147-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='HNT'/><title type='text'>HNT: Shower</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_198Iuo0-xII/TOSe8oPBv1I/AAAAAAAAAQo/-KdW6cXBnt0/s1600/IMG_2849.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 398px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_198Iuo0-xII/TOSe8oPBv1I/AAAAAAAAAQo/-KdW6cXBnt0/s400/IMG_2849.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5540728206002339666" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This wasn't a planned HNT picture.  Actually, Hubby took this without me knowing about it.  When I saw it I immediately thought "HNT".  :-)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6241704089440477742-5758035725523716119?l=confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/feeds/5758035725523716119/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/2010/11/hnt-shower.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6241704089440477742/posts/default/5758035725523716119'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6241704089440477742/posts/default/5758035725523716119'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/2010/11/hnt-shower.html' title='HNT: Shower'/><author><name>Married Lover</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07379164686571856070</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_198Iuo0-xII/S5HBGDv3OGI/AAAAAAAAAKE/yTPHcwWI8cw/S220/Sheet.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_198Iuo0-xII/TOSe8oPBv1I/AAAAAAAAAQo/-KdW6cXBnt0/s72-c/IMG_2849.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6241704089440477742.post-7086639096947116566</id><published>2010-09-20T23:03:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2010-09-20T23:22:30.813-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Medic J'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='AFF'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Mr. B'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Mr. L'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Second Thoughts'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Double D'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Mr. J.'/><title type='text'>Second Thoughts</title><content type='html'>Recently, I reactivated my profile on AFF.  I wasn't surprised when I started getting Flirts and added to various Hotlists.  There were the typical messages as well.  I did get an email from a fairly intelligent guy.  He's handsome and seems interesting.  I even got back in touch with Medic J... who is already wanting a date to meet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As much as I'm glad to see that one guy is still wanting to be with me after a year, and a new guy wants to start up a relationship.  I find myself wondering if I want go through all this again.  After so many months of not having to figure out how to meet up, I'm not sure I want to deal with the hassel. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I still have Neighbor C, Double D, Mr. J and Mr. B.  None of them are hounding me with emails wanting to know when I can meet up.  If I can't meet them, I don't get "how about this day?".  They tell me it's okay and that there are other days. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm finding myself being comfortable with the way things are now.  Yes, I don't see any of them on a regular basis like I had always hoped for in an affair.  But I do know that none of them are just out for a one-night stand.  Somehow, I'm sure this all goes back to my experience with Mr. L. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Things aren't perfect in my marriage bed, but I'm willing to compromise on things.  I didn't want to do that last year.  I guess that means that there won't be any more posts about new guys, and fewer posts about encounters with The Guys.  I guess that means I'll need to be extra deligent on my stories and HNT pics.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thank you all for reading my blog and I certainly hope that you stop by from time to time. :-)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6241704089440477742-7086639096947116566?l=confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/feeds/7086639096947116566/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/2010/09/second-thoughts.html#comment-form' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6241704089440477742/posts/default/7086639096947116566'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6241704089440477742/posts/default/7086639096947116566'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/2010/09/second-thoughts.html' title='Second Thoughts'/><author><name>Married Lover</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07379164686571856070</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_198Iuo0-xII/S5HBGDv3OGI/AAAAAAAAAKE/yTPHcwWI8cw/S220/Sheet.JPG'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6241704089440477742.post-5217190023313921009</id><published>2010-09-15T23:09:00.008-04:00</published><updated>2010-09-16T19:27:23.013-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Mr. J'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Neighbor C'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Picasso'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Men in General'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Double D'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Everyday Life'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Countryboy'/><title type='text'>Around the World... well it feels that way</title><content type='html'>I feel like I've bee Around the World but in only 30 days instead of 80.  There has been so much going on in my home life that for awhile there I didn't have time to even think about setting up a date or even looking for a date.  I have had contact with several of the guys over the last two months. I even got to meet up with Picasso again...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While taking a few days of vacation time (without Hubby) in early August, I finally managed to meet up with Picasso after he got off work.  We sat in my car and talked.  He really has a weird sense of humor but that didn't stop me from laughing my ass off.  I was beginning to wonder if anything was going to happen when he began to caress my arm, hand, and shoulder whenever I laughed.  Eventually, he was caressing my neck and the area behind my ear... a sure way to get me to melt like butter.  As you can imagine we were soon kissing like a two teenagers at the drive-in movie.  He kept asking me to jump into the backseat just so he could see my pussy and ass.  I would have in a heartbeat except for one thing.... I hadn't shaved!!!  While he's pleading with me to one simple thing that I really wanted to do, all I could think was "Stupid! Stupid! Stupid!". &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We ended up parting ways shortly after that.  A few texts were exchanged over the next few days and then once again Silence.  Our meeting was over a month ago and I haven't heard a word from him since.  Guess that's another one to cross off.  Oh well...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Double D and I have been texting more often.  We pass along little innuendos about past meetings.  He's still embarrassed about what happened the last time we saw each other.  I'm beginning to wonder if he and I will ever get to spend time together in a room... with a bed.  I just enjoy talking with him and it's nice to know that he's still willing to talk with me.  We'll see...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mr. J has been popping up here and there, online and in person.  We haven't been together since February and haven't seen each other since March.  I laugh as I type this but it seems that he's not getting the down and dirty sex at home so he comes running to me.  Should I be honored or insulted? lol&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Neighbor C is just as horny as every! We haven't been together since that last meeting. But I'm sure there will be some more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm starting to get back into the frame of mind, after Countryboy, to meet some more guys or hopefully find a lasting affair.  Time will tell I guess.  I still find myself thinking about Countryboy... missing our talks, his laugh, and the time we spent together.  I worry about his home life and I fear that his kids think badly of him now.  Then I wonder how either one of us would act we were to see each other again.  I doubt I'd get one of his shy, goofy smiles but I know that my heart would skip a beat or two.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Stay Tuned. ;-)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6241704089440477742-5217190023313921009?l=confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/feeds/5217190023313921009/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/2010/09/around-world-well-it-feels-that-way.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6241704089440477742/posts/default/5217190023313921009'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6241704089440477742/posts/default/5217190023313921009'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/2010/09/around-world-well-it-feels-that-way.html' title='Around the World... well it feels that way'/><author><name>Married Lover</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07379164686571856070</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_198Iuo0-xII/S5HBGDv3OGI/AAAAAAAAAKE/yTPHcwWI8cw/S220/Sheet.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6241704089440477742.post-5759534164498726856</id><published>2010-09-15T23:05:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2010-09-15T23:07:54.817-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='HNT'/><title type='text'>HNT: Flame</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_198Iuo0-xII/TJGJpyLB2KI/AAAAAAAAAQE/3Y5nl1YXiTI/s1600/IMG_2371.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 216px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_198Iuo0-xII/TJGJpyLB2KI/AAAAAAAAAQE/3Y5nl1YXiTI/s400/IMG_2371.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5517342369441241250" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="body"&gt;A thought often makes us hotter than a fire.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="bodybold"&gt; &lt;a href="http://www.brainyquote.com/quotes/quotes/h/henrywadsw118713.html"&gt;Henry Wadsworth Longfellow&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6241704089440477742-5759534164498726856?l=confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/feeds/5759534164498726856/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/2010/09/hnt-flame.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6241704089440477742/posts/default/5759534164498726856'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6241704089440477742/posts/default/5759534164498726856'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/2010/09/hnt-flame.html' title='HNT: Flame'/><author><name>Married Lover</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07379164686571856070</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_198Iuo0-xII/S5HBGDv3OGI/AAAAAAAAAKE/yTPHcwWI8cw/S220/Sheet.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_198Iuo0-xII/TJGJpyLB2KI/AAAAAAAAAQE/3Y5nl1YXiTI/s72-c/IMG_2371.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6241704089440477742.post-8807105457873169899</id><published>2010-09-08T19:27:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2010-09-08T19:29:41.799-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='HNT'/><title type='text'>HNT: Black &amp; White</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_198Iuo0-xII/TIgcBSkynGI/AAAAAAAAAP8/zFIrwbH10hc/s1600/Sad02.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 259px; height: 296px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_198Iuo0-xII/TIgcBSkynGI/AAAAAAAAAP8/zFIrwbH10hc/s400/Sad02.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5514688552206769250" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;h2&gt;&lt;a name="blandwht"&gt;Black &amp;amp; White&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/h2&gt;  &lt;pre&gt;&lt;a name="blandwht"&gt;unravel me&lt;br /&gt;a distant cord&lt;br /&gt;on the outside is forgotten&lt;br /&gt;a constant need&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;to get along&lt;br /&gt;and the animal awakens&lt;br /&gt;and all I feel is black and white&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the road is long&lt;br /&gt;the memory slides&lt;br /&gt;to the whole of my undoing&lt;br /&gt;put aside&lt;br /&gt;I put away&lt;br /&gt;I push it back to get through each day&lt;br /&gt;and all I feel is black and white&lt;br /&gt;and I'm wound up small and tight&lt;br /&gt;and I don't know who I am&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;everybody loves you when you're easy&lt;br /&gt;everybody hates when you're a bore&lt;br /&gt;everyone is waiting for your entrance so&lt;br /&gt;don't disappoint them&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;unravel me&lt;br /&gt;untie this chord&lt;br /&gt;the very centre of our union&lt;br /&gt;is caving in&lt;br /&gt;I can't endure&lt;br /&gt;I am the archive of our failure&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and all I feel is black and white&lt;br /&gt;and I'm wound up small and tight&lt;br /&gt;and I don't know who I am&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;everybody loves you when you're easy&lt;br /&gt;everybody hates when you're a bore&lt;br /&gt;everyone is waiting for your entrance so&lt;br /&gt;don't disappoint them&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;everybody loves you when you're easy so&lt;br /&gt;don't disappoint them&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;don't disappoint them ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Black &amp;amp; White by Sarah McLachlan&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/pre&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6241704089440477742-8807105457873169899?l=confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/feeds/8807105457873169899/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/2010/09/hnt-black-white.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6241704089440477742/posts/default/8807105457873169899'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6241704089440477742/posts/default/8807105457873169899'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/2010/09/hnt-black-white.html' title='HNT: Black &amp; White'/><author><name>Married Lover</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07379164686571856070</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_198Iuo0-xII/S5HBGDv3OGI/AAAAAAAAAKE/yTPHcwWI8cw/S220/Sheet.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_198Iuo0-xII/TIgcBSkynGI/AAAAAAAAAP8/zFIrwbH10hc/s72-c/Sad02.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6241704089440477742.post-5014358662468220923</id><published>2010-08-18T20:26:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2010-08-18T20:28:59.987-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='HNT'/><title type='text'>HNT: The Lady in Dots #3</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_198Iuo0-xII/TGx6iHVT7RI/AAAAAAAAAPc/_wrktoyzDwg/s1600/Dots4.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 340px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_198Iuo0-xII/TGx6iHVT7RI/AAAAAAAAAPc/_wrktoyzDwg/s400/Dots4.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5506911170869849362" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6241704089440477742-5014358662468220923?l=confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/feeds/5014358662468220923/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/2010/08/hnt-lady-in-dots-3.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6241704089440477742/posts/default/5014358662468220923'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6241704089440477742/posts/default/5014358662468220923'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/2010/08/hnt-lady-in-dots-3.html' title='HNT: The Lady in Dots #3'/><author><name>Married Lover</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07379164686571856070</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_198Iuo0-xII/S5HBGDv3OGI/AAAAAAAAAKE/yTPHcwWI8cw/S220/Sheet.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_198Iuo0-xII/TGx6iHVT7RI/AAAAAAAAAPc/_wrktoyzDwg/s72-c/Dots4.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6241704089440477742.post-3984145365836991409</id><published>2010-07-22T21:00:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2010-07-22T21:03:47.900-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='HNT'/><title type='text'>HNT: The Lady in Dots #2</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_198Iuo0-xII/TEjqQZbDPgI/AAAAAAAAAPU/Y8TinhrHa3c/s1600/Dots3.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 348px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_198Iuo0-xII/TEjqQZbDPgI/AAAAAAAAAPU/Y8TinhrHa3c/s400/Dots3.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5496900912628841986" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6241704089440477742-3984145365836991409?l=confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/feeds/3984145365836991409/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/2010/07/hnt-lady-in-dots-2.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6241704089440477742/posts/default/3984145365836991409'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6241704089440477742/posts/default/3984145365836991409'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/2010/07/hnt-lady-in-dots-2.html' title='HNT: The Lady in Dots #2'/><author><name>Married Lover</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07379164686571856070</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_198Iuo0-xII/S5HBGDv3OGI/AAAAAAAAAKE/yTPHcwWI8cw/S220/Sheet.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_198Iuo0-xII/TEjqQZbDPgI/AAAAAAAAAPU/Y8TinhrHa3c/s72-c/Dots3.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6241704089440477742.post-3908391946620373952</id><published>2010-07-14T23:35:00.009-04:00</published><updated>2010-07-18T02:22:29.649-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Neighbor C'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Mr. M'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Picasso'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Mr. S'/><title type='text'>Catching Up</title><content type='html'>Things have been hectic, as usual, for both home and work.  But as I mentioned in my email from over the weekend, I had a nice surprise last week.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Neighbor C and I have been chatting off and on.  A few weeks ago he asked why we haven't met more often.  We literally live only four blocks from each other but have not seen each other since our first meeting.  He admitted that if things were they way they "should be" then he and I should be meeting up almost every week!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last Friday, I had the day off... the first one in a month.  While I was home alone, I was on IM and got a message from C.  He wanted to know what I was doing and I told him.  Like I figured, he was asking if I was home alone.  When I told him "yes" he started asking if he could come over.  I told him that I wasn't doing anything so if he wanted to come over then he could.  It didn't take long for him to arrive, lol.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He walked into the house and wasted no time.  He grabbed me for the beginning of the most intense kissing session I can remember ever having.  He pulled me so tight against him that it felt like he was trying to make me a part of him.  And his tongue!!  OMG... it was all over the inside of my mouth!!!  If he wasn't pushing his tongue in, he was pulling my tongue into his mouth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I was able to think longer then a few seconds, I  began to caress his hard cock through his pants.  He  began to caress my breasts shortly afterward.  Next thing I knew he was pulling at  my t-shirt.  I helped him by quickly removing my shirt and getting rid of the bra immediately.  As soon as the bra was off, he was swooping in to take a nipple in his mouth.  That wasn't good enough for him.  No... while he sucked on one nipple, he twisted, tweaked and pulled on the other nipple.  The sensation went straight to my pussy and I was throwing my head back to moan.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When he came up for air, he went right back to kiss me which kind of canceled out the whole "coming up for air" concept. ;-)  After a few more minutes of kissing, I decided that I needed a change in scenery.  I started opening his shorts and dropped to my knees.  I couldn't wait to get his cock into my mouth.  As soon as I had it in my mouth, he was moaning.  He placed his hands on either side of my head and began a slow fucking of my mouth.    He didn't let me suck on him too long because he wasn't ready to cum yet which I really wasn't too happy with.  But he soon showed me the error of my ways.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It seems we went from standing, partially clothed, to naked on the couch in 2.3 seconds.  I was in such a sexual haze (remember this was the first time I've been with someone since early May.... EARLY MAY!!!) that all I can remember is laying down on the couch for him to go to town on my pussy.  But I should have known that C wouldn't do things the conventional way.  Nooooo, he got himself into a half 69 with his head between my legs but his cock not in my mouth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I swear I think the man actually had my entire pussy... THE ENTIRE PUSSY in his mouth!!!  The sexual haze I was it when into hyper drive at this point.    I have no idea what else was going on except what his mouth was doing to me.  I can only imagine what it sounded like outside since the couch is right next to the picture window. LOL!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I couldn't take it any longer, aka I was numb and hoarse from the continuous orgasms, I pushed C off so I could get to his cock.  I latched onto his cock and proceeded to do something I do very well.  It didn't take long before he was cuming in my mouth, and cuming, and cuming, and cuming.  I didn't think I was going to be able to keep it all in but I did.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;C got dressed; gave me a kiss; and was out the door.  As for me... I went back to the couch, buck naked, and took a nap!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A week later and he's already asking when he can get another blow job, lol.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;__________________________________&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I heard from Picasso this past week and was shocked.  I had sent him a text 2-3 weeks ago but never heard from him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Picasso: What's new?&lt;br /&gt;Me: Where have you been stranger?&lt;br /&gt;Picasso: Phone got fucked up! Had 2 get a new one&lt;br /&gt;Me: LOL.  I thought you had disappeared on me&lt;br /&gt;Picasso: You should know better&lt;br /&gt;Me: I know.  LOL.  So how you been?&lt;br /&gt;Picasso: Ok just jacking off waiting on some of ur sexy pics!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I sent him a text the next day and I'm still waiting for a response....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;____________________________________&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A BBM friend and I have been talking about our friendships.  Mr. M is helping me write a new story that's actually based on his encounters with a long-time friend of his.  Hopefully, he'll approve and hopefully so will ya'll.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;____________________________________&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Final catch up... I promise.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I haven't mentioned this in months but Mr. S and I have never stopped talking.  We may go a month in between emails, calls or texts.  The standard joke between us is that when he's in the area he always gets a room with a jacuzzi tub.  He knows I have a weakness for such things and loves to send me pics of the tub, or pics of him in the tub.  He was in town on Wednesday and we spent more of the night texting or emailing each other.&lt;br /&gt;Me: Mmmmmm this a hell of a way to go to bed. All wet&lt;br /&gt;S:I know right!! That's why I said 'CALL ME' silly. Lol I'm still throbbing.&lt;br /&gt;Me:I can't CALL YOU!!!! Silly. Lol&lt;br /&gt;S: Yes ma'am! :-(&lt;br /&gt;Me:If I could I would believe me. I'd rather listen to you then his snoring. Lol&lt;br /&gt;S: Go in another room or outside or something. Jk :-)&lt;br /&gt;Me:Lol. Hey...I'd be in the car in a heartbeat and on my way to RH just for that tub you've got. :-p&lt;br /&gt;S: Just the tub?? :-( lol I understand.&lt;br /&gt;Me: The tub is the reason but you'd be the bonus ;-)&lt;br /&gt;S:Sweet! Good to be a bonus. Lol&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think that's got everyone caught up.  Well, everyone that's still speaking to me, lol.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6241704089440477742-3908391946620373952?l=confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/feeds/3908391946620373952/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/2010/07/catching-up.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6241704089440477742/posts/default/3908391946620373952'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6241704089440477742/posts/default/3908391946620373952'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/2010/07/catching-up.html' title='Catching Up'/><author><name>Married Lover</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07379164686571856070</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_198Iuo0-xII/S5HBGDv3OGI/AAAAAAAAAKE/yTPHcwWI8cw/S220/Sheet.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6241704089440477742.post-8535971703600007188</id><published>2010-07-14T23:16:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2010-07-14T23:21:41.720-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='HNT'/><title type='text'>HNT: The Lady in Dots #1</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_198Iuo0-xII/TD59qWRJjTI/AAAAAAAAAPM/KPfG0xsVCQA/s1600/Dots2.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 342px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_198Iuo0-xII/TD59qWRJjTI/AAAAAAAAAPM/KPfG0xsVCQA/s400/Dots2.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5493966761924070706" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;This is the beginning of a series I'll be doing for HNT. &lt;br /&gt;I hope ya'll enjoy. :-)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6241704089440477742-8535971703600007188?l=confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/feeds/8535971703600007188/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/2010/07/hnt-lady-in-dots-1.html#comment-form' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6241704089440477742/posts/default/8535971703600007188'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6241704089440477742/posts/default/8535971703600007188'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/2010/07/hnt-lady-in-dots-1.html' title='HNT: The Lady in Dots #1'/><author><name>Married Lover</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07379164686571856070</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_198Iuo0-xII/S5HBGDv3OGI/AAAAAAAAAKE/yTPHcwWI8cw/S220/Sheet.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_198Iuo0-xII/TD59qWRJjTI/AAAAAAAAAPM/KPfG0xsVCQA/s72-c/Dots2.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6241704089440477742.post-8328959171115213829</id><published>2010-07-07T23:54:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2010-07-07T23:56:49.885-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='HNT'/><title type='text'>HNT: Cooling Off</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_198Iuo0-xII/TDVMI-weqII/AAAAAAAAAPE/EDyB5BoTl7E/s1600/IcePop.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 335px; height: 260px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_198Iuo0-xII/TDVMI-weqII/AAAAAAAAAPE/EDyB5BoTl7E/s400/IcePop.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5491379037817186434" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;There's noting like a nice cold Popsicle when the temperature starts going up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6241704089440477742-8328959171115213829?l=confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/feeds/8328959171115213829/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/2010/07/hnt-cooling-off.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6241704089440477742/posts/default/8328959171115213829'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6241704089440477742/posts/default/8328959171115213829'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/2010/07/hnt-cooling-off.html' title='HNT: Cooling Off'/><author><name>Married Lover</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07379164686571856070</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_198Iuo0-xII/S5HBGDv3OGI/AAAAAAAAAKE/yTPHcwWI8cw/S220/Sheet.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_198Iuo0-xII/TDVMI-weqII/AAAAAAAAAPE/EDyB5BoTl7E/s72-c/IcePop.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6241704089440477742.post-8377419896661568502</id><published>2010-06-30T21:53:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2010-06-30T22:18:55.752-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='HNT'/><title type='text'>HNT: National Champs!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_198Iuo0-xII/TCv1fZAhszI/AAAAAAAAAO0/D3QPD5M004M/s1600/IMG_2192.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_198Iuo0-xII/TCv1fZAhszI/AAAAAAAAAO0/D3QPD5M004M/s400/IMG_2192.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5488750490518926130" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;I'm not sure if many of you have guessed, but I'm from the South.&lt;br /&gt;I grew up in South Carolina so I was thrilled to see the University of South Carolina Gamecocks when the College World Series last night.  I'm a huge sports fan so I'm sure it was hilarious for anyone walking by my living room window shortly after 12 a.m. to see me jumping up and down screaming in excitement. &lt;br /&gt;GO COCKS!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6241704089440477742-8377419896661568502?l=confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/feeds/8377419896661568502/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/2010/06/hnt-national-champs.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6241704089440477742/posts/default/8377419896661568502'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6241704089440477742/posts/default/8377419896661568502'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/2010/06/hnt-national-champs.html' title='HNT: National Champs!!'/><author><name>Married Lover</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07379164686571856070</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_198Iuo0-xII/S5HBGDv3OGI/AAAAAAAAAKE/yTPHcwWI8cw/S220/Sheet.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_198Iuo0-xII/TCv1fZAhszI/AAAAAAAAAO0/D3QPD5M004M/s72-c/IMG_2192.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6241704089440477742.post-7281464417925661041</id><published>2010-06-27T22:23:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2010-06-27T23:07:51.471-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Goodbye'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Countryboy'/><title type='text'>One Week</title><content type='html'>So.... it's been one week without any communication with Countryboy.  My one saving grace to not thinking about it was having to go through an emergency procedure last weekend.  Focusing on the pain and the after-care kept me from missing him and our nightly text exchange.  But at the same time I missed being able to talk to my friend about what was going on.  And then Monday morning while laying in bed, enjoying the wonder of pain medication, I got this email from Countryboy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;sorry for the ways things turn  out. I guess we should have ended this long time ago. She feels that if she knows your name she can have closer she has sworn to me that she has no intentions of harassing u anymore. I hate to break a promise but if it means that we can pick up the peaces and move on I need to do what ever it takes. I told her how we meet at the "l" after talking for a while u gave me your number. I texted you after a few weeks and we begun texting back a forth about your lives and marriages and that the majority of our text was just chatting. We became friends but was afraid to let our spouses know fearing it would be taken the wrong way, and that we only meat a few times as friends for lunch at Mc Ds. I wont ever text u again cause she is now watching phone records and keeping close tabs on pc. and I think it best that we end it now for ever for the both of our sakes if u haven't or cant block us know that if u receive a txt it will not be me.  Don't know if she do that but u never know. Sorry i did not come up with something better to say. I wish u well and after tonight I will delete your contact at work. Take care&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the back of my mind, from Friday til I got this message, I had this hope that I would still have a friend.  With this email, I realized that I've lost a lover &amp;amp; a friend.  I already knew I had lost a lover and I was okay with that.  Losing Countryboy as a friend is what has hurt the most.  I didn't reply to the email because frankly I wasn't sure what to say.  I doubt there really is anything I could say in response.  Actually, there is something I want to say to him but I doubt he'll ever look at that account again.  I guess I'll say it here...&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thank you for nine months of friendship and fun.  Eventhough we started out of lovers we became friends.  You helped me through some very hard and emotional times, and I will always be grateful for the shoulder you gave me to lean on.  I feel that I didn't return the favor nearly as much as I should have, but only you know if I did or not.  I wish you all the best for you in whatever the future holds for you.  I never told you this but I found myself falling in love with you... as a friend.  I will always feel that way for you, and I will keep you in my heart.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6241704089440477742-7281464417925661041?l=confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/feeds/7281464417925661041/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/2010/06/one-week.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6241704089440477742/posts/default/7281464417925661041'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6241704089440477742/posts/default/7281464417925661041'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/2010/06/one-week.html' title='One Week'/><author><name>Married Lover</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07379164686571856070</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_198Iuo0-xII/S5HBGDv3OGI/AAAAAAAAAKE/yTPHcwWI8cw/S220/Sheet.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6241704089440477742.post-8699663681878630242</id><published>2010-06-24T00:50:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2010-06-23T22:18:47.822-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='HNT'/><title type='text'>HNT: All Tied Up</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_198Iuo0-xII/TBmqDEbTSXI/AAAAAAAAAOc/IsG6jHA62h0/s1600/Tied2BW.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 268px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_198Iuo0-xII/TBmqDEbTSXI/AAAAAAAAAOc/IsG6jHA62h0/s400/Tied2BW.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5483600991004871026" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tie me up&lt;br /&gt;Tie me down&lt;br /&gt;Leave me gagged&lt;br /&gt;Leave me bound&lt;br /&gt;Tie me strict&lt;br /&gt;Tie me tight&lt;br /&gt;Just make sure&lt;br /&gt;I'm in plain sight&lt;br /&gt;Tie me here&lt;br /&gt;Tie me there&lt;br /&gt;Tie me up&lt;br /&gt;Most anywhere&lt;br /&gt;Tie me up&lt;br /&gt;Tie me down&lt;br /&gt;Fuck me hard&lt;br /&gt;I'll moan real loud&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.booksie.com/erotica/poetry/xxemoheartxx/tie-me-up"&gt;XxEmoHeartsX&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6241704089440477742-8699663681878630242?l=confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/feeds/8699663681878630242/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/2010/06/hnt-all-tied-up.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6241704089440477742/posts/default/8699663681878630242'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6241704089440477742/posts/default/8699663681878630242'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/2010/06/hnt-all-tied-up.html' title='HNT: All Tied Up'/><author><name>Married Lover</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07379164686571856070</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_198Iuo0-xII/S5HBGDv3OGI/AAAAAAAAAKE/yTPHcwWI8cw/S220/Sheet.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_198Iuo0-xII/TBmqDEbTSXI/AAAAAAAAAOc/IsG6jHA62h0/s72-c/Tied2BW.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6241704089440477742.post-8878792184510007718</id><published>2010-06-19T15:12:00.007-04:00</published><updated>2010-06-27T23:08:26.126-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='100th Post'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Countryboy'/><title type='text'>It was bound to happen</title><content type='html'>Well, it was bound to happen but I thought it would be my spouse to find out.  It was Countryboy's wife. Friday evening I heard my phone signal a text message.  It was this strange text from Countryboy telling me not to answer my phone and that he had fucked up.  I did have a missed call from his number but no voicemail.  An hour later I got another text from him with a little more detail.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He had forgotten to erase our text conversation from Thursday night, and his wife found them.  So that was her calling and not him.  I could tell from the short exchange that he was upset.  She had sent the kids off to her mother's and he said that they hate him.  He told me that he only admitted to exchanging numbers to discuss our love of literature, and that we met for lunch a few times.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I haven't gotten any more calls or texts which in a way I thought I would... threatening ones from her.  I just wish I knew what was going on for him.  Regardless of the fact the he went looking for an affair, he loves his wife and thinks the world of his kids.  It's been really hard for me not to text a mutual friend Countrboy and I have, and ask this friend to check in on Countryboy.  The only problem is that our mutual friend doesn't know Countryboy and I know each other.  My heart is breaking for the pain he is going through right now, especially this particular weekend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;pre  style="font-style: italic;font-family:arial;" wrap=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;I am glad to have me u but sry for the way it turned out. Last txt.&lt;br /&gt;Take care I will never say who u are.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/pre&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;This was not what I wanted to write for my 100th post...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6241704089440477742-8878792184510007718?l=confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/feeds/8878792184510007718/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/2010/06/it-was-bound-to-happen.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6241704089440477742/posts/default/8878792184510007718'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6241704089440477742/posts/default/8878792184510007718'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/2010/06/it-was-bound-to-happen.html' title='It was bound to happen'/><author><name>Married Lover</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07379164686571856070</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_198Iuo0-xII/S5HBGDv3OGI/AAAAAAAAAKE/yTPHcwWI8cw/S220/Sheet.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6241704089440477742.post-1426149416510400764</id><published>2010-06-15T00:11:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2010-06-15T00:26:29.927-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Teacher J'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Remembering'/><title type='text'>Not My Shopping List</title><content type='html'>I spent yesterday evening going through my closet and drawers for my upcoming appointment at a consignment store.  Of course, I went through all the purses in the hopes of finding some money.  I hit the jackpot with $.78 and the shopping list Teacher J left in my car.  It took all I had not to roll on the floor laughing since Hubby was in the next room.  I had no idea that I had kept the list.  Seeing this did bring back memories of that &lt;a href="http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/2009/08/first-for-me-thanks-to-teacher.html"&gt;day&lt;/a&gt;...the fun and the regrets.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_198Iuo0-xII/TBb9jlNZPyI/AAAAAAAAAOU/taOxT54yPQk/s1600/SCAN0029.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 246px; height: 496px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_198Iuo0-xII/TBb9jlNZPyI/AAAAAAAAAOU/taOxT54yPQk/s320/SCAN0029.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5482848384095698722" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6241704089440477742-1426149416510400764?l=confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/feeds/1426149416510400764/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/2010/06/not-my-shopping-list.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6241704089440477742/posts/default/1426149416510400764'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6241704089440477742/posts/default/1426149416510400764'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/2010/06/not-my-shopping-list.html' title='Not My Shopping List'/><author><name>Married Lover</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07379164686571856070</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_198Iuo0-xII/S5HBGDv3OGI/AAAAAAAAAKE/yTPHcwWI8cw/S220/Sheet.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_198Iuo0-xII/TBb9jlNZPyI/AAAAAAAAAOU/taOxT54yPQk/s72-c/SCAN0029.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6241704089440477742.post-546479307490445497</id><published>2010-06-11T23:54:00.006-04:00</published><updated>2010-06-12T00:17:14.565-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Hubby'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Gator'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='BB'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Morning Fun'/><title type='text'>Start to the Day</title><content type='html'>I stepped out of the bathroom to find him stretched out on the bed.  He just looked at him and smiled.  It's his "Let's fuck smile".  I couldn't refuse him... especially when I saw how his cock was just begging for some attention.  As I walked towards the bed, I cupped my breasts.  He only laughed.  I crawled onto the bed and straddled his lap.  My breasts pressed against his chest as I leaned into to give him a deep long kiss.  His hands reached down to cup my ass.  I moaned into his mouth when he squeezed each cheek hard.  The pleasure from the pain caused my pussy to dripping with cream.  There was no stopping my hips from rocking back and forth against his cock.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In no time at all his cock was at the entrance of my now drenched pussy.  When his cock was buried deep, we both moaned.  Rocking. Slapping.  Moaning.  Cries of passion filled the room.  Until the sound of the mattress falling off the side rails.  Then laughter filled the room as he sat up but kept his cock in my pussy.  From the bed to the floor.  Pounding replaces the rocking but everything else is the same.  Until the screams of orgasm.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;_______________________________&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That was the start of my workday courtesy of Hubby.  It looks like Hubby and I are finding the spark again. :-)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I also have to share a pic that a BB contact (I'm giving him the nickname "Gator") sent me today.  He's seen the blog and my pictures so I wasn't that surprised to see this particular pic.  But I just couldn't help myself from having a good laugh. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_198Iuo0-xII/TBMJoSjRoHI/AAAAAAAAAOM/S2pTWYe1g0E/s1600/IMG00072-20100611-1620.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_198Iuo0-xII/TBMJoSjRoHI/AAAAAAAAAOM/S2pTWYe1g0E/s320/IMG00072-20100611-1620.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5481735759219236978" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;I just love it!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6241704089440477742-546479307490445497?l=confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/feeds/546479307490445497/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/2010/06/start-to-day.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6241704089440477742/posts/default/546479307490445497'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6241704089440477742/posts/default/546479307490445497'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/2010/06/start-to-day.html' title='Start to the Day'/><author><name>Married Lover</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07379164686571856070</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_198Iuo0-xII/S5HBGDv3OGI/AAAAAAAAAKE/yTPHcwWI8cw/S220/Sheet.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_198Iuo0-xII/TBMJoSjRoHI/AAAAAAAAAOM/S2pTWYe1g0E/s72-c/IMG00072-20100611-1620.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6241704089440477742.post-2990031489786976765</id><published>2010-06-10T00:02:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2010-06-10T00:11:21.643-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='HNT'/><title type='text'>HNT: Favorite Color</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_198Iuo0-xII/TBBkFzBvEHI/AAAAAAAAAOE/l7ztrZCTpTo/s1600/IMG_1943.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 359px; height: 370px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_198Iuo0-xII/TBBkFzBvEHI/AAAAAAAAAOE/l7ztrZCTpTo/s320/IMG_1943.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5480990797269504114" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wear a variety of colors for work and for play, but there is only one color for my tootsies... RED!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"When in doubt where red" - Bill Blass&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6241704089440477742-2990031489786976765?l=confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/feeds/2990031489786976765/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/2010/06/hnt-favorite-color.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6241704089440477742/posts/default/2990031489786976765'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6241704089440477742/posts/default/2990031489786976765'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/2010/06/hnt-favorite-color.html' title='HNT: Favorite Color'/><author><name>Married Lover</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07379164686571856070</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_198Iuo0-xII/S5HBGDv3OGI/AAAAAAAAAKE/yTPHcwWI8cw/S220/Sheet.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_198Iuo0-xII/TBBkFzBvEHI/AAAAAAAAAOE/l7ztrZCTpTo/s72-c/IMG_1943.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6241704089440477742.post-4254705138832360458</id><published>2010-06-04T19:20:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2010-06-04T19:55:16.616-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Double D'/><title type='text'>The first to give in</title><content type='html'>I broke down yesterday afternoon and emailed Double D.  It's been a month since our Saturday together, and in all honesty I've missed out chats so very much.  True, he can be irritating as Hell but at the same time he tells it like it is. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A few things have been on my mind lately and I just needed someone to talk to.  I could have emailed Countryboy, but he wouldn't have replied for a day or so.  So, I emailed Double D about what was going on just to get it all off my chest.  Within an hour he emailed me his new number.  I didn't text him because there wasn't an opportunity to do so.  I figured I wouldn't hear from him anyway.  Not after the silent treatment I've been getting for the last month.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Imagine my surprise this afternoon when he logs onto IM and sends me a message.  I swear if I hadn't been sitting down I would have fallen down. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;DD: what you doing slacker&lt;br /&gt;Me: Resting, doc&lt;br /&gt;DD: oh sorry didnt mean to wake you&lt;br /&gt;Me: You didn't wake me.&lt;br /&gt;DD: ah i see, i never heard back from you the other day.&lt;br /&gt;Me: I got busy with errands after work&lt;br /&gt;DD: so how have you been&lt;br /&gt;Me: Pretty good. Working to pay the bills as always.&lt;br /&gt;DD: So how you feeling about the other stuff you emailed me about?&lt;br /&gt;Me: I'm trying to keep a level head right now. The less I think about what has happened the less I overthink what could happen&lt;br /&gt;DD: true, so hows that working for you&lt;br /&gt;Me: So far so good&lt;br /&gt;DD: lol well ok then, I guess I will try to believe that&lt;br /&gt;DD: so what about that saturday&lt;br /&gt;Me: What about it?&lt;br /&gt;DD: idk I was embarassed afterwards&lt;br /&gt;Me: Why??&lt;br /&gt;DD: poor performance on my part&lt;br /&gt;Me: Please don't be embarassed about that&lt;br /&gt;DD: well i was and am, hence the lack of communication&lt;br /&gt;Me: I don't know what to say&lt;br /&gt;DD: why? you did nothing wrong, I just felt that I should have been much much better.&lt;br /&gt;Me: Well you did say it had been awhile&lt;br /&gt;DD: yes it had, but I handled it wrong as well. I should have told you sooner what the deal was.&lt;br /&gt;Me: ?? The deal?&lt;br /&gt;DD: afterwards i should have told you i was embarrassed instead of avoiding talking.&lt;br /&gt;Me: Yeah. That would have been nice from my perspective&lt;br /&gt;DD: sorry, im not used to being embarrassd&lt;br /&gt;Me: Well techically we both had a short fuse that day&lt;br /&gt;DD: lol&lt;br /&gt;Me: Well I've never had an orgasm that quickly. Lol&lt;br /&gt;DD: lol well thats a good thig i guess&lt;br /&gt;Me: Let's just call that day the result of 8 months of anticipation&lt;br /&gt;DD: i can live with that lol&lt;br /&gt;Me: Lol. Good. Bc that's what I've been telling myself for the last month&lt;br /&gt;DD: lol yeah I have been telling myself that it was too long in between times&lt;br /&gt;Me: Wanna flip a coin to decide which reason sounds right?&lt;br /&gt;DD: nah we can go with both. but either way im glad its cleared up&lt;br /&gt;Me: Me too bc honestly I thought it was something I did or didn't do&lt;br /&gt;DD: lol not at all&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span&gt;I have no idea where things go from here with him.  Obviously, he doesn't like the fact that things ended so quickly that day.  That's something he has to work out between his two Heads.  I realized something in the last month.  I missed Double D.  We never had a hot and heavy physical relationship.   It seems to go beyond that but how much I couldn't tell you right now.  Actually, I can't tell you much of anything when it comes to Double D and myself because I'm not exactly sure of things when it comes to him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Stay tune to the continue story of Double D...&lt;/span&gt;  ;-)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6241704089440477742-4254705138832360458?l=confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/feeds/4254705138832360458/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/2010/06/first-to-give-in.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6241704089440477742/posts/default/4254705138832360458'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6241704089440477742/posts/default/4254705138832360458'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/2010/06/first-to-give-in.html' title='The first to give in'/><author><name>Married Lover</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07379164686571856070</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_198Iuo0-xII/S5HBGDv3OGI/AAAAAAAAAKE/yTPHcwWI8cw/S220/Sheet.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6241704089440477742.post-8574965859132598239</id><published>2010-06-02T23:21:00.006-04:00</published><updated>2010-06-02T23:43:47.773-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='HNT'/><title type='text'>HNT: Humor</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_198Iuo0-xII/TAcgqboL9sI/AAAAAAAAANU/IU9Hxi8R5u0/s1600/WhimsyOriginal.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 399px; height: 145px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_198Iuo0-xII/TAcgqboL9sI/AAAAAAAAANU/IU9Hxi8R5u0/s400/WhimsyOriginal.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5478383385062405826" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center; font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Nothing spoils romance so much as a sense of humour in the woman.                 &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="attribute"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;-- Oscar Wilde&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: normal;font-size:100%;" &gt;I was in a good mood the other morning and decided to take a HNT picture that was more humorous then erotic.    &lt;/span&gt;:-)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://osbasso.blogspot.com/2005/05/guidelines-for-half-nekkid-thursday.html" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://static.flickr.com/33/45232051_11095d7b9c_o.jpg" alt="45113638_202b79dc11" width="100" height="67" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6241704089440477742-8574965859132598239?l=confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/feeds/8574965859132598239/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/2010/06/hnt-humor.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6241704089440477742/posts/default/8574965859132598239'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6241704089440477742/posts/default/8574965859132598239'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/2010/06/hnt-humor.html' title='HNT: Humor'/><author><name>Married Lover</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07379164686571856070</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_198Iuo0-xII/S5HBGDv3OGI/AAAAAAAAAKE/yTPHcwWI8cw/S220/Sheet.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_198Iuo0-xII/TAcgqboL9sI/AAAAAAAAANU/IU9Hxi8R5u0/s72-c/WhimsyOriginal.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6241704089440477742.post-1741038194806207785</id><published>2010-05-27T00:00:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2010-06-02T23:43:12.030-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='HNT'/><title type='text'>HNT: Yes, Dear?</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_198Iuo0-xII/S_3ugvXAWvI/AAAAAAAAAM8/29CsH74hn2c/s1600/YesDearBW.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 442px; height: 273px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_198Iuo0-xII/S_3ugvXAWvI/AAAAAAAAAM8/29CsH74hn2c/s320/YesDearBW.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5475794968188574450" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="sqq"  style="font-size:100%;"&gt;“Romance is a love affair in other that domestic surroundings”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Sir Walter Raleigh&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://osbasso.blogspot.com/2005/05/guidelines-for-half-nekkid-thursday.html" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://static.flickr.com/33/45232051_11095d7b9c_o.jpg" alt="45113638_202b79dc11" width="100" height="67" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6241704089440477742-1741038194806207785?l=confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/feeds/1741038194806207785/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/2010/05/hnt-yes-dear.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6241704089440477742/posts/default/1741038194806207785'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6241704089440477742/posts/default/1741038194806207785'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/2010/05/hnt-yes-dear.html' title='HNT: Yes, Dear?'/><author><name>Married Lover</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07379164686571856070</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_198Iuo0-xII/S5HBGDv3OGI/AAAAAAAAAKE/yTPHcwWI8cw/S220/Sheet.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_198Iuo0-xII/S_3ugvXAWvI/AAAAAAAAAM8/29CsH74hn2c/s72-c/YesDearBW.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6241704089440477742.post-2756854190761739801</id><published>2010-05-13T21:24:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2010-05-13T21:27:02.959-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='HNT'/><title type='text'>HNT: Waiting</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_198Iuo0-xII/S-ymigU3C-I/AAAAAAAAAMs/wkPlU3pKV00/s1600/BluepantiesOldtimer.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 366px; height: 544px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_198Iuo0-xII/S-ymigU3C-I/AAAAAAAAAMs/wkPlU3pKV00/s320/BluepantiesOldtimer.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5470930759071501282" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="body"&gt;From the moment I was six I felt sexy. And let me tell you it was hell, sheer hell, waiting to do something about it.&lt;/span&gt; ~ Bette Davis&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6241704089440477742-2756854190761739801?l=confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/feeds/2756854190761739801/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/2010/05/hnt-waiting.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6241704089440477742/posts/default/2756854190761739801'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6241704089440477742/posts/default/2756854190761739801'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/2010/05/hnt-waiting.html' title='HNT: Waiting'/><author><name>Married Lover</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07379164686571856070</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_198Iuo0-xII/S5HBGDv3OGI/AAAAAAAAAKE/yTPHcwWI8cw/S220/Sheet.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_198Iuo0-xII/S-ymigU3C-I/AAAAAAAAAMs/wkPlU3pKV00/s72-c/BluepantiesOldtimer.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6241704089440477742.post-4480023329684528740</id><published>2010-05-11T09:29:00.005-04:00</published><updated>2010-05-11T10:25:51.283-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Slump'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Spring Fever'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Picasso'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Fireman C'/><title type='text'>Where's my Spring Fever?</title><content type='html'>It's been a year since I began seeing other men.  This time last year all I could think about was sex.  Not this year!  I take that back.  I do think of sex; crave sex; want sex... I just seems that I'm picker about it then what I was a year ago.  Here's a perfect example...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday, I got a text from Fireman C asking what I was doing.  Of course, I was at work which I told him.  It wasn't too long before he was knocking on my office door. (My workplace is in a government building so anyone and everyone can come and go.)  It was nice to see him again and he certainly hasn't changed.  Right there, while standing in my office door, he reached out and fondled my breasts; kissed me; placed my hand on his very hard cock.  I'm not saying I wasn't affected by all the attention because my wet panties were a testament to that.  I just didn't have any real desire to be with him.  Of course, being shown his new truck (with a camper on the back) and then being told about fucking some school teacher in the back of it was such a turn on as well.  *That was typed with a hint of sarcasm. ;-)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have been texting with a guy I met on AFF last year.  We've never been able to arrange a meeting that works with our schedules.  At this point, I just want to meet him face to face.  Whether we fuck of not isn't even a thought right now.  I just want to see them man who seems to have more fantasies then I do.  He intrigues me to no-end.  My very own Picasso has great appeal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am glad to know that I'm not alone right now.  Enchanted Mistress over at &lt;a href="http://taboosweetest.blogspot.com/2010/05/guilt.html"&gt;Sweetest Taboo&lt;/a&gt; is in a similar situation.  There are even a few of her female followers who are in the same boat.  It looks like the boat is quickly filling up.  I wonder if men, who have affairs, ever experience this.  Now that would be an interesting study to see reported by Katie on the Evening News.  I bet it could even get government funding!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The picture has nothing to do with how things are right now but it's too funny not to share.  Besides, I can always hope to be this way when I'm an old widow.... many, many, many, many years from now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://buss47.googlepages.com/hofred.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 323px; height: 477px;" src="http://buss47.googlepages.com/hofred.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6241704089440477742-4480023329684528740?l=confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/feeds/4480023329684528740/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/2010/05/wheres-my-spring-fever.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6241704089440477742/posts/default/4480023329684528740'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6241704089440477742/posts/default/4480023329684528740'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/2010/05/wheres-my-spring-fever.html' title='Where&apos;s my Spring Fever?'/><author><name>Married Lover</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07379164686571856070</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_198Iuo0-xII/S5HBGDv3OGI/AAAAAAAAAKE/yTPHcwWI8cw/S220/Sheet.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6241704089440477742.post-3725120728590570011</id><published>2010-05-05T19:53:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2010-05-05T23:12:17.757-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='HNT'/><title type='text'>HNT: Vision of Blue</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_198Iuo0-xII/S-Ix12Q7LbI/AAAAAAAAAMg/vrSe0MB1a6k/s1600/Bluepanties.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 419px; height: 226px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_198Iuo0-xII/S-Ix12Q7LbI/AAAAAAAAAMg/vrSe0MB1a6k/s320/Bluepanties.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5467987698750533042" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center; font-family: arial; font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span class="body"&gt;Blue thou art, intensely blue; Flower, whence came thy dazzling hue? ~ James Montgomery&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6241704089440477742-3725120728590570011?l=confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/feeds/3725120728590570011/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/2010/05/hnt-vision-of-blue.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6241704089440477742/posts/default/3725120728590570011'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6241704089440477742/posts/default/3725120728590570011'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/2010/05/hnt-vision-of-blue.html' title='HNT: Vision of Blue'/><author><name>Married Lover</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07379164686571856070</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_198Iuo0-xII/S5HBGDv3OGI/AAAAAAAAAKE/yTPHcwWI8cw/S220/Sheet.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_198Iuo0-xII/S-Ix12Q7LbI/AAAAAAAAAMg/vrSe0MB1a6k/s72-c/Bluepanties.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6241704089440477742.post-1320216867873657610</id><published>2010-05-05T00:11:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2010-05-05T00:43:53.244-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Double D'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Countryboy'/><title type='text'>Brown vs Blue</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;COUNTRYBOY&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_198Iuo0-xII/S-DwLUkGQZI/AAAAAAAAAMQ/9UbgH1CTtwk/s1600/2283824114_2ebe6e0c27.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 229px; height: 65px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_198Iuo0-xII/S-DwLUkGQZI/AAAAAAAAAMQ/9UbgH1CTtwk/s320/2283824114_2ebe6e0c27.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5467634024917123474" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;VS&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_198Iuo0-xII/S-DxRA2kjuI/AAAAAAAAAMY/3cDJEs8C8Xk/s1600/293.rhysmeyers.jonathan.032008.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 181px; height: 70px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_198Iuo0-xII/S-DxRA2kjuI/AAAAAAAAAMY/3cDJEs8C8Xk/s320/293.rhysmeyers.jonathan.032008.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5467635222216740578" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;DOUBLE D&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Not only are their eyes completely different colors, but their personalities are as well.  Countryboy is the down-to-Earth "good ol' boy" while Double D is always in your face in either words or actions.  I've found myself wondering lately how I have become attracted to such complete opposites.  I'll admit that I have more of a connection with Countryboy, but there's a part of me that wishes there was just a little bit of that connection with Double D. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As of today, I don't know where things are going with Double D.  He and I have always communicated via a messenger service on our phones.  During the course of our conversation this morning, I learned he's got a new phone this morning.  Fine. Okay.  Then I fine out that his new phone doesn't support the messenger we've been using, and the ones it does have I don't.  In fact, he started using using the new phone ASAP and our conversation went dead.  I'm a little pissed about how he just disappeared like that.  But I'm not exactly sure what I should say to him without sounding like a jealous lover to him.  He's the typical Bad Boy... drives you crazy; you know he's no good for you; yet you just can't stay away from him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I really really need a hug from Countryboy!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6241704089440477742-1320216867873657610?l=confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/feeds/1320216867873657610/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/2010/05/brown-vs-blue.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6241704089440477742/posts/default/1320216867873657610'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6241704089440477742/posts/default/1320216867873657610'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/2010/05/brown-vs-blue.html' title='Brown vs Blue'/><author><name>Married Lover</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07379164686571856070</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_198Iuo0-xII/S5HBGDv3OGI/AAAAAAAAAKE/yTPHcwWI8cw/S220/Sheet.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_198Iuo0-xII/S-DwLUkGQZI/AAAAAAAAAMQ/9UbgH1CTtwk/s72-c/2283824114_2ebe6e0c27.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6241704089440477742.post-4680218024802904666</id><published>2010-05-01T23:29:00.006-04:00</published><updated>2010-05-02T01:29:30.706-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='IT J'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Mr. L'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Double D'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Countryboy'/><title type='text'>They come. They go.  They come again... enough already!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: times new roman;font-size:100%;" &gt;I think this month will go down as the strangest for me and the Guys.  There have been a few who have disappeared off the fast of the earth and others who seem to be crawling out of the woodwork.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Countryboy - I haven't seen Countryboy in person since mid-March.  We shared a lovely morning together which was, as always, wonderful.  However, we talk every day.  Right now we've become each others soundboards for the frustrations we have going on right now.  Sometimes it's nice just to have someone to talk to.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;IT J - I got a surprising IM from J earlier this week.  Actually, it took me awhile to remember exactly who he was.  He's recently separated so he apparently thought I would just luv to hook up with him again.  Uh.... sorry, no.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mr. L - This evening I get a text asking me why I haven't called "him".  Being as the number wasn't programed into my phone I had no idea who was sending the text.  So, I played along with whomever was on the other end.  Lo and behold it was Mr. L.  Why would he think I would or should be calling him?  We haven't talked since early March and I haven't seen him since February.  Men who think they're the "end-all; be-all" are really just insignificant little boys.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Double D - We have been talking more lately.  I had to see him a few weeks ago for something completely non-sexual.  Since then we've chatted more then what we have been doing.  He's been helping me cope with what happened earlier this month.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;pre style="font-family: times new roman; font-style: italic;" wrap=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Me: I think its bc it was a surprise that it happened without meds. Then I rack my brains wondering it I could have stopped it if I had done something different.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;D: Could you have done anything different the first times it happened? No so why do you think you could have stopped it now&lt;br /&gt;Me : I don't know but that's how I feel. I know I'll get past it eventually.&lt;br /&gt;D: You know better inside that its nothing you have done&lt;br /&gt;Me : I guess it has a lot to due with the fact that my mom figured it out and was disappointed that the miscarriage happened.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;D: Well you just have to push forward&lt;br /&gt;Me : I know and I will.&lt;br /&gt;D: Well I will help if I can&lt;br /&gt;Me : Thanks. I really appreciate that.&lt;br /&gt;D: Idk how I can but I will try buddy. Plus we gotya get&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt; you better&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/pre&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: times new roman; font-style: italic;font-size:100%;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me : Do you think it'll ever stop hurting when I think about it&lt;br /&gt;D: It will get better over time but you have to make yourself feel better about it before it will. You have to know inside its not your fault&lt;br /&gt;Me : Logically I know that but its my heart that's havin&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: times new roman; font-style: italic;font-size:100%;" &gt;g the hardest time dealing with it.&lt;br /&gt;D: Yeah I know but its up to you to decide when its ok to move forward&lt;br /&gt;Me : How'd you get to be so wise?&lt;br /&gt;D: I'm old&lt;br /&gt;Me : No you're not&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: times new roman;font-size:100%;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: times new roman; font-style: italic;font-size:100%;" &gt;D: Yep and your older&lt;br /&gt;Me : Don't remind me.&lt;br /&gt;D: Lol&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: times new roman;font-size:100%;" &gt;I visited D this afternoon while I had some time to myself.  We spent a few hours talking as he did some work for his business.  After wards, it was like we turned into childhood friends.  We laughed and joked about nothing in particular.  He found a rubber band on his desk and started to act like he was going to hit me with it.  Being one who doesn't like sharp pain like that from a rubber ba&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: times new roman;font-size:100%;" &gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: times new roman;font-size:100%;" &gt;nd, I tried to grab it from his hands.  That's when it became a battle of Keep-Away.  Of course I never could get the rubber band out of his hands, but that's okay... I got something else instead.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Before I knew it I was standing between his legs as he lend against his desk.  We were just looking into each others eyes.  Without saying a word, he pulled his already hard cock out of his pants.  He didn't have to ask.  I took him into my hand and slowly began to stroke the length.  Then I had him deep in my mouth; my tongue swirling around the head.  He began to fondle my breast through my shirt.  I guess it was more then he could stand after awhile because when I came up he began to push me across the office.  He unbuttoned my pants as I walked backwards, and began to push them dow&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: times new roman;font-size:100%;" &gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: times new roman;font-size:100%;" &gt;n just as I felt a stool behind me.  Soon my pants were off and he was pulling his down.  He sat me up on the stool and with in seconds his cock was buried deep in my pussy.  I was so worked up that I started to have my orgasm as soon as he was in me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For our first time together like this, it seemed appropriate.  I've never known what exactly is between D and myself.  It's not like what Countryboy and I have.  I guess I'll have to see how things progress between us in the next few months.  I'm actually looking forward to it since it seems it wants me to get back to being happy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: times new roman;font-size:100%;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: times new roman;font-size:100%;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Oh... I finally got the rubber band.  I'm wearing it on my wrist. ;-)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;pre style="font-family: times new roman; font-style: italic;" wrap=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://img.allposters.com/6/LRG/29/2994/5MTQD00Z.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 338px; height: 450px;" src="http://img.allposters.com/6/LRG/29/2994/5MTQD00Z.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/pre&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: times new roman;font-size:100%;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: times new roman;font-size:100%;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6241704089440477742-4680218024802904666?l=confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/feeds/4680218024802904666/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/2010/05/they-come-they-go-they-come-again.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6241704089440477742/posts/default/4680218024802904666'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6241704089440477742/posts/default/4680218024802904666'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/2010/05/they-come-they-go-they-come-again.html' title='They come. They go.  They come again... enough already!'/><author><name>Married Lover</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07379164686571856070</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_198Iuo0-xII/S5HBGDv3OGI/AAAAAAAAAKE/yTPHcwWI8cw/S220/Sheet.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6241704089440477742.post-3386641564603158625</id><published>2010-04-18T00:46:00.005-04:00</published><updated>2010-04-18T01:30:53.700-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Double D'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Everyday Life'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Countryboy'/><title type='text'>Coming out of the darkness</title><content type='html'>The last two weeks have been a roller coaster for me.  The week following Easter was full of such joy for me and Hubby.  We thought our dreams had come true... that was until that Friday.  There was still hope that things would be fine.  Our hopes and dreams were shrouded in darkness last Sunday. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span class="UIStory_Message"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span class="UIStory_Message"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;A butterfly lights beside us and for a brief moment it's glory and beauty belong to our world, but then it flies on again and although we wish it could have stayed, we are so thankful to have seen it at all.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Obviously, I wasn't up for a HNT this week.  But I did take a picture of a new dress I bought Thursday.  I have several events coming up in the next month, and felt a new dress was needed.  Now I just need to transform my ghost white legs so they have some color.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_198Iuo0-xII/S8qWtHSCsaI/AAAAAAAAAL0/NPjnN5mA7L4/s1600/dress.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 231px; height: 393px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_198Iuo0-xII/S8qWtHSCsaI/AAAAAAAAAL0/NPjnN5mA7L4/s400/dress.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5461343199933149602" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel the need to mention one thing about the last week.  Even though I have kept what happened from friends, I did share it with Countryboy and Double D.  Neither one coddled me like everyone else has been doing.  They each let me just ramble about what happened and what I was feeling.  I guess there is a reason why of all of the guys I've meet/been with over the last year they're two whom I am most comfortable with.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6241704089440477742-3386641564603158625?l=confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/feeds/3386641564603158625/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/2010/04/coming-out-of-darkness.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6241704089440477742/posts/default/3386641564603158625'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6241704089440477742/posts/default/3386641564603158625'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/2010/04/coming-out-of-darkness.html' title='Coming out of the darkness'/><author><name>Married Lover</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07379164686571856070</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_198Iuo0-xII/S5HBGDv3OGI/AAAAAAAAAKE/yTPHcwWI8cw/S220/Sheet.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_198Iuo0-xII/S8qWtHSCsaI/AAAAAAAAAL0/NPjnN5mA7L4/s72-c/dress.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6241704089440477742.post-3298018041693934727</id><published>2010-04-07T20:47:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2010-04-07T21:00:46.106-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='HNT'/><title type='text'>HNT: Footprint</title><content type='html'>I had ever intention of taking a HNT this week with my bunny ears.  Alas, that didn't happen.  After spending all of Easter Sunday either in bed or the bathroom, I really wasn't in the mood for a HNT pic.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today, I got an interesting idea.  I'm not sure what the pollen is like in your neck of the woods, but around here the stuff is covering everything.  There's no point in cleaning anything until we get rain because overnight the pollen coats everything not moving in a fine layer of yellow/green grime.  So, I came up with the idea of seeing what a simple footprint would look like in that layer of grime.  Yes, it was kind of gross but what the hell...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_198Iuo0-xII/S70qmUgtiXI/AAAAAAAAALs/l7jbUhbhXvg/s1600/footprint.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 174px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_198Iuo0-xII/S70qmUgtiXI/AAAAAAAAALs/l7jbUhbhXvg/s400/footprint.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5457565161272215922" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6241704089440477742-3298018041693934727?l=confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/feeds/3298018041693934727/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/2010/04/hnt-footprint.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6241704089440477742/posts/default/3298018041693934727'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6241704089440477742/posts/default/3298018041693934727'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/2010/04/hnt-footprint.html' title='HNT: Footprint'/><author><name>Married Lover</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07379164686571856070</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_198Iuo0-xII/S5HBGDv3OGI/AAAAAAAAAKE/yTPHcwWI8cw/S220/Sheet.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_198Iuo0-xII/S70qmUgtiXI/AAAAAAAAALs/l7jbUhbhXvg/s72-c/footprint.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6241704089440477742.post-1581163786211763805</id><published>2010-03-24T22:24:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2010-03-24T22:31:38.274-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='HNT'/><title type='text'>HNT: Good Read</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_198Iuo0-xII/S6rJzr_mGqI/AAAAAAAAALY/jgrhEAr3xCo/s1600/IMG_1559.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 395px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_198Iuo0-xII/S6rJzr_mGqI/AAAAAAAAALY/jgrhEAr3xCo/s400/IMG_1559.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5452392188705381026" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;After a long day at work, I like nothing better then soaking in the tub and reading a good book.&lt;br /&gt;Luckily, I can do both at the same time. ;-)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6241704089440477742-1581163786211763805?l=confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/feeds/1581163786211763805/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/2010/03/hnt-good-read.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6241704089440477742/posts/default/1581163786211763805'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6241704089440477742/posts/default/1581163786211763805'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/2010/03/hnt-good-read.html' title='HNT: Good Read'/><author><name>Married Lover</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07379164686571856070</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_198Iuo0-xII/S5HBGDv3OGI/AAAAAAAAAKE/yTPHcwWI8cw/S220/Sheet.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_198Iuo0-xII/S6rJzr_mGqI/AAAAAAAAALY/jgrhEAr3xCo/s72-c/IMG_1559.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6241704089440477742.post-2351449436510462983</id><published>2010-03-18T22:17:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2010-03-18T23:54:21.181-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='HNT'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Countryboy'/><title type='text'>HNT: His Tie</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_198Iuo0-xII/S6LzVQXSB9I/AAAAAAAAAK0/r5Wy7vrehvs/s1600-h/SepiaTie.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 351px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_198Iuo0-xII/S6LzVQXSB9I/AAAAAAAAAK0/r5Wy7vrehvs/s400/SepiaTie.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5450186045567141842" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;I remember what you wore on the first day&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt; You came into my life and I thought&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt; "Hey, you know, this could be something"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt; 'Cause everything you do and words you say&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt; You know that it all takes my breath away&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center; font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt; And now I'm left with nothing&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I remember every look upon your face&lt;br /&gt;The way you roll your eyes&lt;br /&gt;The way you taste&lt;br /&gt;You make it hard for breathing&lt;br /&gt;'Cause when I close my eyes and drift away&lt;br /&gt;I think of you and everything's okay&lt;br /&gt;I'm finally now believing&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6241704089440477742-2351449436510462983?l=confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/feeds/2351449436510462983/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/2010/03/hnt-his-tie.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6241704089440477742/posts/default/2351449436510462983'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6241704089440477742/posts/default/2351449436510462983'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/2010/03/hnt-his-tie.html' title='HNT: His Tie'/><author><name>Married Lover</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07379164686571856070</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_198Iuo0-xII/S5HBGDv3OGI/AAAAAAAAAKE/yTPHcwWI8cw/S220/Sheet.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_198Iuo0-xII/S6LzVQXSB9I/AAAAAAAAAK0/r5Wy7vrehvs/s72-c/SepiaTie.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6241704089440477742.post-7866975957615771238</id><published>2010-03-11T00:20:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2010-03-11T00:25:26.429-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='HNT'/><title type='text'>HNT: Birthday Suit</title><content type='html'>I celebrated a 30-something birthday this past weekend.  It was a great day spent with my family, and the weather was picture perfect.  The only thing I asked for as a gift was to go see Alice in Wonderland.  I don't know why, but Johnny Depp just makes me weak in the knees.  Seeing him as the Mad Hatter just.... *sigh*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In honor of my birthday, even a few days later, I thought I'd share my birthday suit with everyone.  ;-)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_198Iuo0-xII/S5h-lcusjzI/AAAAAAAAAKs/MpbDJZAKfbk/s1600-h/BWWatercolor.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 237px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_198Iuo0-xII/S5h-lcusjzI/AAAAAAAAAKs/MpbDJZAKfbk/s400/BWWatercolor.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5447242931136925490" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6241704089440477742-7866975957615771238?l=confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/feeds/7866975957615771238/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/2010/03/hnt-birthday-suit.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6241704089440477742/posts/default/7866975957615771238'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6241704089440477742/posts/default/7866975957615771238'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/2010/03/hnt-birthday-suit.html' title='HNT: Birthday Suit'/><author><name>Married Lover</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07379164686571856070</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_198Iuo0-xII/S5HBGDv3OGI/AAAAAAAAAKE/yTPHcwWI8cw/S220/Sheet.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_198Iuo0-xII/S5h-lcusjzI/AAAAAAAAAKs/MpbDJZAKfbk/s72-c/BWWatercolor.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6241704089440477742.post-267239337674421758</id><published>2010-03-04T23:31:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2010-03-05T21:10:08.194-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Books'/><title type='text'>Oh My God.... They're real!!</title><content type='html'>Tuesday, I posted a message about Dr. Seuss's &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;The Seven Lady Godivas&lt;/span&gt;.  &lt;a href="http://ashleyandme.blogspot.com/"&gt;Riff Dog&lt;/a&gt; asked a good question.  When WILL Hollywood make a movie about this classic Dr. Seuss?!?!!?  At first I was just so excited to have a blogger of Riff's caliber comment on my blog.  I swear I got goosebumps just thinking about him even knowing about lil ol' me.  After I got over my excitement and could think clearly again I started looking for images of actors who could play the characters in the book.  Honestly, I wasn't sure who I was looking for when I did an image search.  I lucked out though and found a picture of a charity ride in England...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.offtolondon.com/images/Lady-Godiva08.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 381px; height: 323px;" src="http://www.offtolondon.com/images/Lady-Godiva08.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I just have one question... Wouldn't the leather saddle chafe?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6241704089440477742-267239337674421758?l=confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/feeds/267239337674421758/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/2010/03/oh-my-god-theyre-real.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6241704089440477742/posts/default/267239337674421758'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6241704089440477742/posts/default/267239337674421758'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/2010/03/oh-my-god-theyre-real.html' title='Oh My God.... They&apos;re real!!'/><author><name>Married Lover</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07379164686571856070</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_198Iuo0-xII/S5HBGDv3OGI/AAAAAAAAAKE/yTPHcwWI8cw/S220/Sheet.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6241704089440477742.post-6696639828158186522</id><published>2010-03-04T23:10:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2010-03-04T23:22:35.520-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='HNT'/><title type='text'>HNT: Tired Toesies</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_198Iuo0-xII/S5CEk7DVIgI/AAAAAAAAAJ8/qwnkUijwfEU/s1600-h/IMG_1455.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 461px; height: 242px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_198Iuo0-xII/S5CEk7DVIgI/AAAAAAAAAJ8/qwnkUijwfEU/s320/IMG_1455.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5444997719352746498" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I made the mistake of wearing high heeled boots to work today.  Normally, wearing them doesn't bother me but I spent a lot of time walking from department to department today.  I couldn't wait to get those boots off after work.  And so, I drove home barefoot!!  After dinner I spent a good 40 minutes just laying in the tub to relieve my tired toesies.  I cannot wait for warmer weather and being able to wear open toe shoes.  But before then I'm getting a nice pedicure!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6241704089440477742-6696639828158186522?l=confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/feeds/6696639828158186522/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/2010/03/hnt-tired-toesies.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6241704089440477742/posts/default/6696639828158186522'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6241704089440477742/posts/default/6696639828158186522'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/2010/03/hnt-tired-toesies.html' title='HNT: Tired Toesies'/><author><name>Married Lover</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07379164686571856070</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_198Iuo0-xII/S5HBGDv3OGI/AAAAAAAAAKE/yTPHcwWI8cw/S220/Sheet.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_198Iuo0-xII/S5CEk7DVIgI/AAAAAAAAAJ8/qwnkUijwfEU/s72-c/IMG_1455.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6241704089440477742.post-505968020775530340</id><published>2010-03-02T10:32:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2010-03-02T10:45:40.881-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Books'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Everyday Life'/><title type='text'>Happy Birthday, Dr. Seuss!</title><content type='html'>As many of you know, today is Dr. Seuss's birthday.  It's always fun to see how children and adults celebrate his birthday.  Dressing up as the Cat in the Hat; wearing crazy socks for "Fox in Socks"; showing off a souvenir from a vacation trip to go with "Oh the Places We'll Go".  Last year, I dressed up as Thing 1 as part of a children's program.  And yes, my hair was bright blue which took three days to wash out.  I'll never do that again!!  :-)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Everyone has a favorite Dr. Seuss book.  However, there are many people who don't know about an adult book that Dr. Seuss wrote and illustrated in 1939.  "The Seven Lady Godivas" is about history's barest family.  The book is unfortunately out of print and hard to come by.  I'm just lucky to have a copy that belonged to my grandfather.  I've never asked my grandmother why he had a copy, lol.  &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.sexualfables.com/images/TheSevenLadyGodivas.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 366px; height: 453px;" src="http://www.sexualfables.com/images/TheSevenLadyGodivas.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;The book recounts the tale of not one, but &lt;/span&gt;&lt;i style="font-style: italic;"&gt;seven&lt;/i&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; Godiva sisters, none of whom ever wears clothing. The explanation for their nakedness, even when walking in snow, is "they were simply themselves and chose not to disguise it." The story opens with the sisters' father, Lord Godiva, deciding to leave for the &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Battle of Hastings&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; on horseback. This upsets the sisters, as horses are wild and untamed animals. Sure enough, before Lord Godiva manages to even leave the castle walls, he is flung from his horse and killed. As a tribute to their father's fate, the Godiva sisters agree to never marry, despite the fact that each is courting one of seven brothers named Peeping, until they can warn their countrymen of the dangers of horses. The book then follows the sisters as they set out on individual quests for "horse truths", which turn out to be well-known sayings involving horses.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6241704089440477742-505968020775530340?l=confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/feeds/505968020775530340/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/2010/03/happy-birthday-dr-seuss.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6241704089440477742/posts/default/505968020775530340'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6241704089440477742/posts/default/505968020775530340'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/2010/03/happy-birthday-dr-seuss.html' title='Happy Birthday, Dr. Seuss!'/><author><name>Married Lover</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07379164686571856070</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_198Iuo0-xII/S5HBGDv3OGI/AAAAAAAAAKE/yTPHcwWI8cw/S220/Sheet.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6241704089440477742.post-4173103117299201131</id><published>2010-02-25T00:09:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2010-02-25T00:12:15.440-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='HNT'/><title type='text'>HNT - Behind the Sheet</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_198Iuo0-xII/S4YGip4dbRI/AAAAAAAAAJ0/nOZ0_i_EOh8/s1600-h/SepiaSheet.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 277px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_198Iuo0-xII/S4YGip4dbRI/AAAAAAAAAJ0/nOZ0_i_EOh8/s400/SepiaSheet.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5442044392151805202" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6241704089440477742-4173103117299201131?l=confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/feeds/4173103117299201131/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/2010/02/hnt-behind-sheet.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6241704089440477742/posts/default/4173103117299201131'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6241704089440477742/posts/default/4173103117299201131'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/2010/02/hnt-behind-sheet.html' title='HNT - Behind the Sheet'/><author><name>Married Lover</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07379164686571856070</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_198Iuo0-xII/S5HBGDv3OGI/AAAAAAAAAKE/yTPHcwWI8cw/S220/Sheet.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_198Iuo0-xII/S4YGip4dbRI/AAAAAAAAAJ0/nOZ0_i_EOh8/s72-c/SepiaSheet.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6241704089440477742.post-8808146739299553019</id><published>2010-02-11T21:25:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2010-02-11T21:28:48.129-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Everyday Life'/><title type='text'>Under the weather</title><content type='html'>I hate to say it but the cold weather has finally gotten to me.  I've been under the weather since last week.  I thought I was finally getting better when I came down with an ear infection today.  I've never had this much sickness in such a short amount of time!! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hopefully, I will be back into my blogging routine soon.  "Play Dates" have been put on hold under I'm feeling better.  Believe me... I miss meeting my Guys.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6241704089440477742-8808146739299553019?l=confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/feeds/8808146739299553019/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/2010/02/under-weather.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6241704089440477742/posts/default/8808146739299553019'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6241704089440477742/posts/default/8808146739299553019'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/2010/02/under-weather.html' title='Under the weather'/><author><name>Married Lover</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07379164686571856070</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_198Iuo0-xII/S5HBGDv3OGI/AAAAAAAAAKE/yTPHcwWI8cw/S220/Sheet.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6241704089440477742.post-2869663374721139979</id><published>2010-02-03T23:27:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2010-02-03T23:33:02.486-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='HNT'/><title type='text'>HNT: Snow Toes</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_198Iuo0-xII/S2pM8Gf8AUI/AAAAAAAAAJM/MBXLjCLfU28/s1600-h/toes.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_198Iuo0-xII/S2pM8Gf8AUI/AAAAAAAAAJM/MBXLjCLfU28/s400/toes.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5434240495796355394" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Last Friday my area got almost three inches of snow/sleet.  It was mostly sleet because there was nothing fluffy about the white stuff we had on the ground.  I thought about taking a HNT pic of me standing in the snow without a top.  Unfortunately, my backyard is very visible to my neighbors so that was a no go.  I decided to do this instead.  It was crazy I know but I now have an interesting pic that people cannot believe I took.  :-)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6241704089440477742-2869663374721139979?l=confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/feeds/2869663374721139979/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/2010/02/hnt-snow-toes.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6241704089440477742/posts/default/2869663374721139979'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6241704089440477742/posts/default/2869663374721139979'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/2010/02/hnt-snow-toes.html' title='HNT: Snow Toes'/><author><name>Married Lover</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07379164686571856070</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_198Iuo0-xII/S5HBGDv3OGI/AAAAAAAAAKE/yTPHcwWI8cw/S220/Sheet.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_198Iuo0-xII/S2pM8Gf8AUI/AAAAAAAAAJM/MBXLjCLfU28/s72-c/toes.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6241704089440477742.post-3589691921122009001</id><published>2010-01-27T23:37:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2010-01-27T23:45:23.522-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='HNT'/><title type='text'>HNT: Sweet Caress</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_198Iuo0-xII/S2EVy8JGZ3I/AAAAAAAAAJE/JPmQ_nhMr18/s1600-h/IMG_1271.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 481px; height: 258px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_198Iuo0-xII/S2EVy8JGZ3I/AAAAAAAAAJE/JPmQ_nhMr18/s400/IMG_1271.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5431646590467467122" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6241704089440477742-3589691921122009001?l=confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/feeds/3589691921122009001/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/2010/01/hnt-sweet-caress.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6241704089440477742/posts/default/3589691921122009001'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6241704089440477742/posts/default/3589691921122009001'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/2010/01/hnt-sweet-caress.html' title='HNT: Sweet Caress'/><author><name>Married Lover</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07379164686571856070</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_198Iuo0-xII/S5HBGDv3OGI/AAAAAAAAAKE/yTPHcwWI8cw/S220/Sheet.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_198Iuo0-xII/S2EVy8JGZ3I/AAAAAAAAAJE/JPmQ_nhMr18/s72-c/IMG_1271.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6241704089440477742.post-967190967763777276</id><published>2010-01-21T00:30:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2010-01-21T00:37:21.176-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='HNT'/><title type='text'>HNT: Peek-a-boo</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_198Iuo0-xII/S1fmuaXm4uI/AAAAAAAAAI8/RlQgOkfRNRk/s1600-h/BWNudeCup.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_198Iuo0-xII/S1fmuaXm4uI/AAAAAAAAAI8/RlQgOkfRNRk/s400/BWNudeCup.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5429061560845132514" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6241704089440477742-967190967763777276?l=confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/feeds/967190967763777276/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/2010/01/hnt-peek-boo.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6241704089440477742/posts/default/967190967763777276'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6241704089440477742/posts/default/967190967763777276'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/2010/01/hnt-peek-boo.html' title='HNT: Peek-a-boo'/><author><name>Married Lover</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07379164686571856070</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_198Iuo0-xII/S5HBGDv3OGI/AAAAAAAAAKE/yTPHcwWI8cw/S220/Sheet.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_198Iuo0-xII/S1fmuaXm4uI/AAAAAAAAAI8/RlQgOkfRNRk/s72-c/BWNudeCup.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6241704089440477742.post-475814354757531602</id><published>2010-01-20T23:46:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2010-01-21T00:30:01.866-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Fantasy'/><title type='text'>Sweet Fantasy: Part Two</title><content type='html'>Here's the much asked for Part Two of my &lt;a href="http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/2010/01/sweet-fantasy-1.html"&gt;Sweet Fantasy&lt;/a&gt;.  I've had many readers ask for me to finish the story.  This isn't the conclusion but that's soon to cum... I mean come.  :-)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Her tongue slowly twirls around my clit; ever so softly touching the very tip.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Chills run throughout my body, and I gasp in pleasure.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;She pulls away and gives me a quizzical look.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I laugh softly and tell her to continue… “take all the time you want.”&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;She laughs in return, and returns to what she was doing.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;The feel of her soft fingers caressing my inner thighs cause me to relax and open my legs wider.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;She uses this to get more comfortable, and to spread my pussy lips more.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I can feel my juices pooling at the edge of my pussy.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Her gasp of surprise tells me she can see it too.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;She positions her right hand so her index finger touches the very bottom of my pussy… right where my juices are about to overflow.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;The feel of her finger, just that one finger, causes my heartbeat to increase!&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I reach down to caress the side of her head; running my fingers through her silky hair.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;She takes this as encouragement and slowly extends her finger into my pussy.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;After feeling the fingers of many men, the feel of her small smooth digit feels like a piece of heaven.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;She begins to pump her finger in and out of my pussy, slowly.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;We’re both breathing heavily.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I can feel her breath against my inner thighs and wet pussy lips.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;She increased the speed of her finger going in and out of my pussy.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I begin to move my hips in rhythm with her finger.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I moan in pleasure when I feel a second finger join the first.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;She laughs softly and moves to take my clit into her mouth.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;My moans turn into small screams of pleasure as she finger fucks me and sucks on my clit.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;She doesn’t give me any relief, but keeps both stimulations going at the same time.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I’m soon out of breath, and the only sounds I can make are small whimpers of pleasure.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;When I feel my orgasm approaching, I dig my gingers into her hair and arch my hips up to her mouth.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Just as I begin to cum she removes her fingers, and covers my pussy with her mouth.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I give a single scream as I cum; my body going ridged with the strength of the orgasm.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Afterwards, I can only lie in the bed panting as she cleans my pussy with her tongue.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;When she’s done she slowly crawls up my body so our pussies and breasts are smashed against each other.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;She leans in to kiss me.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;We both moan in pleasure as she transfers some of my pussy juice into my mouth with her tongue.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;We kiss each other until neither one of us can taste my flavor.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;She slowly rolls off of me, and we turn to face each other in the bed.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I caress her face; tracing her jaw line; slowly running my index finger across her plump lower lip.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;She nips the very tip of my finger gently, and gives me a seduction smile.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I take her face into my hands and begin to kiss her again.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;When we separate for air, I whisper… “my turn”. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6241704089440477742-475814354757531602?l=confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/feeds/475814354757531602/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/2010/01/sweet-fantasy-part-two.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6241704089440477742/posts/default/475814354757531602'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6241704089440477742/posts/default/475814354757531602'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/2010/01/sweet-fantasy-part-two.html' title='Sweet Fantasy: Part Two'/><author><name>Married Lover</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07379164686571856070</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_198Iuo0-xII/S5HBGDv3OGI/AAAAAAAAAKE/yTPHcwWI8cw/S220/Sheet.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6241704089440477742.post-9172993488489439367</id><published>2010-01-18T01:07:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2010-01-18T15:38:00.076-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Fireman C'/><title type='text'>It's a small world after all</title><content type='html'>Fireman C and I haven't met since before Christmas, but we've kept in contact with each other with short IMs.  I know he has other friends and he knows about some of the other Guys.  Imagine my surprise when I casually asked him tonight about his most recent date.  He told me they had met for drinks, and then she took him back to her place for some fucking.  Then came the surprise... he told me that she was a teacher in town.  Now, because of my job I know a lot of the teachers in the area.  Sure enough, I know her... fairly well.  I couldn't believe it!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, I just have to hope that I can keep a straight face the next time I see her knowing what I know.  It's just too funny....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6241704089440477742-9172993488489439367?l=confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/feeds/9172993488489439367/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/2010/01/its-small-world-after-all.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6241704089440477742/posts/default/9172993488489439367'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6241704089440477742/posts/default/9172993488489439367'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/2010/01/its-small-world-after-all.html' title='It&apos;s a small world after all'/><author><name>Married Lover</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07379164686571856070</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_198Iuo0-xII/S5HBGDv3OGI/AAAAAAAAAKE/yTPHcwWI8cw/S220/Sheet.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6241704089440477742.post-2355085502285410187</id><published>2010-01-14T00:14:00.006-05:00</published><updated>2010-01-14T00:49:39.243-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Tex'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='The Alchemist'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Jack'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Everyday Life'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Countryboy'/><title type='text'>Busy start to the year</title><content type='html'>Things have been going nonstop since the beginning of the year.  Christmas vacation made me a little too lax in keeping up with work, blogging, and everyday life.  Plus, being on vacation with hubby really took me off the market with The Guys.  Here's how the year has begun...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Alchemist and I met for drinks after work last Thursday.  We spent an hour chatting, and getting to know each other a bit more.  Well, that's what I was doing.  He was trying his hardest to get me into bed.  I learned my lesson from Teacher J and IT J about rushing off to have sex.  Plus... and no offense to Alchemist... but I was preoccupied with Tex. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hubby had to work this past Sunday which he never does usually.  I had a quick "run-in" with Tex last week which got me thinking of cowboy hats and riding.  ;-)  When I found out I'd have all day Sunday to myself I jumped at the chance to meet Tex.  I told him Friday and Saturday about the chance.  I was told that he'd be online early Sunday morning and we'd finalize things then.  Guess what... no Tex Sunday morning.  I haven't heard from him all week! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got a chance to meet up with Jack again after a month.  I went over to his house Monday after work.  I try my hardest never to criticize any of The Guys and how they perform, but Monday was the very first time I have disliked being in the Doggy Position.  The man has an oral fixation for breast but it seems that once they're our of sight coordination gets out of whack.    I'll admit to having my usual multiple orgasms and he came twice, but it was shocked we couldn't get into sync for my favorite position. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm meeting Countryboy for lunch tomorrow.  We met last week as well.  Our relationship reminds me of the movie &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Same Time, Next Year&lt;/span&gt;.  Except for the whole meeting once a year our relationship is very similar.  My comfort level with him is extremely high which I'm very thankful for.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hoping to get back to my Sweet Fantasy this weekend when I have Saturday to myself.  I'd like to finish the story soon, and then move onto more fantasies.  Oh!!  I'm also in search for a new "toy".  I've had all kinds of suggestions from various guys, and even a few offers to go shopping with me.  Yeah... I can see how that shopping trip would go!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6241704089440477742-2355085502285410187?l=confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/feeds/2355085502285410187/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/2010/01/busy-start-to-year.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6241704089440477742/posts/default/2355085502285410187'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6241704089440477742/posts/default/2355085502285410187'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/2010/01/busy-start-to-year.html' title='Busy start to the year'/><author><name>Married Lover</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07379164686571856070</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_198Iuo0-xII/S5HBGDv3OGI/AAAAAAAAAKE/yTPHcwWI8cw/S220/Sheet.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6241704089440477742.post-9034486107357119550</id><published>2010-01-14T00:06:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2010-01-14T00:13:38.061-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='HNT'/><title type='text'>HNT: Nighty Night</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_198Iuo0-xII/S06n7f3DdmI/AAAAAAAAAI0/VKg4CywPE1A/s1600-h/BWCup.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 264px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_198Iuo0-xII/S06n7f3DdmI/AAAAAAAAAI0/VKg4CywPE1A/s400/BWCup.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5426459241634559586" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6241704089440477742-9034486107357119550?l=confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/feeds/9034486107357119550/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/2010/01/hnt-nighty-night.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6241704089440477742/posts/default/9034486107357119550'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6241704089440477742/posts/default/9034486107357119550'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/2010/01/hnt-nighty-night.html' title='HNT: Nighty Night'/><author><name>Married Lover</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07379164686571856070</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_198Iuo0-xII/S5HBGDv3OGI/AAAAAAAAAKE/yTPHcwWI8cw/S220/Sheet.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_198Iuo0-xII/S06n7f3DdmI/AAAAAAAAAI0/VKg4CywPE1A/s72-c/BWCup.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6241704089440477742.post-5955491720270225157</id><published>2010-01-06T23:21:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2010-01-07T00:53:58.311-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='HNT'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Tex'/><title type='text'>HNT: Howdy</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_198Iuo0-xII/S0V0jEzbgBI/AAAAAAAAAIk/pmGL8e-8S4Y/s1600-h/SepiaHat.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 324px; height: 450px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_198Iuo0-xII/S0V0jEzbgBI/AAAAAAAAAIk/pmGL8e-8S4Y/s320/SepiaHat.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5423869472171327506" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A few weeks ago I mentioned a guy I've been talking to whom I call Tex.  I found an old straw hat and was inspired to take some pictures for this week's HNT.  My hope is to show the hat to Tex in person.  Hopefully, that will happen in the near future.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6241704089440477742-5955491720270225157?l=confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/feeds/5955491720270225157/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/2010/01/hnt-howdy.html#comment-form' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6241704089440477742/posts/default/5955491720270225157'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6241704089440477742/posts/default/5955491720270225157'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/2010/01/hnt-howdy.html' title='HNT: Howdy'/><author><name>Married Lover</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07379164686571856070</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_198Iuo0-xII/S5HBGDv3OGI/AAAAAAAAAKE/yTPHcwWI8cw/S220/Sheet.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_198Iuo0-xII/S0V0jEzbgBI/AAAAAAAAAIk/pmGL8e-8S4Y/s72-c/SepiaHat.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6241704089440477742.post-4900672954557013977</id><published>2010-01-01T12:35:00.007-05:00</published><updated>2010-01-21T00:27:18.275-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Fantasy'/><title type='text'>Sweet Fantasy: Part One</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;A friend recently mentioned that I should write about my fantasies while I wait for reality to present an encounter worthy of all of you.  So this is my first fantasy which is one I've had since college... being with another woman.  Writing this entire fantasy out will probably take some time for the simple reason that I get wrapped up in details.  Please, let me know one way or the other what you think of my writing skills.  I always love to get feedback about what I write.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;The dinner was superb. We're both full from rich food that was too decadent for words. The plates have been removed from the table, but there is still wine in our glasses. It seems such a shame for it to go to waste. We talk about about what's going on in our lives... work, events, family, and husbands. She and I have been meeting for dinners for close to two months now. During the first few, we were both extremely nervous and hardly spoke during the meal. Meeting each week for our "Girls Out" dinner has allowed us both to get to know each other as friends, and gets us closer to our ultimate fantasy... being intimate with another woman.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The wine is soon gone, and we silently agree that tonight is the night. We're both tired of waiting. The last few weeks has led up to this moment. All the soft touches across the table; the caresses to each our faces as we say good night; and the soft gentle kisses we share just before leaving each other.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;It’s my turn to pay for the meal.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;As I lean over to get my purse I can feel her eyes on me… watching my every move, and seeing the swell of my breasts as my blouse opens wide.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;As I right myself, I give her a smile and wink.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;She returns the gestures.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;For once, neither of us blushes at the simple show of affection.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Each time we’ve met for dinner it has been at a restaurant adjacent to a hotel.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;You know… just in case.&lt;span style=""&gt;   &lt;/span&gt;We leave the restaurant and slowly walk across the parking lot to the nearby hotel.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;As we pass our vehicles, I stop while she continues on.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;She walks into the lobby to get a room for the night.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I wait for her to text me the room number.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;My phone finally beeps with her message, and I make my way to the hotel lobby.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I smile at the receptionist as I walk by the desk.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;He smiles back as if he knows I’m meeting a guest rather than being a guest.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;As I walk into the elevator, I laugh to myself.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I cannot help but think of the last time I was at this hotel.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I was doing the same thing except I was meeting my very first love, a man.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;The elevator reaches the correct floor.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I step off the elevator and follow the signs to our room.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;She left the door open just a bit, and I let myself in.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;At first I didn’t see her but then I realize she’s in the bathroom.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I walk over to the desk and put my purse and jacket on the chair.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;As I’m removing my shoes I hear the bathroom door open.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I turn around to say something to her but I can’t say a word.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I was expecting for her to still be wearing her skirt and blouse, but the only clothing she has on is her bra and panties.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I can’t say a word as I take in her creamy skin against the black bra and black hi-cut panties.&lt;span style=""&gt;    &lt;/span&gt;Neither one of us moves for a few seconds, but then I walk over to her.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I don’t touch her immediately, but I look into her eyes and smile.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;She returns the smile and we both relax.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Before I can reach out to touch her, she reached for the buttons on my blouse.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;My breathing increases as I watch her undo each button slowly.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;When she’s got ever button undo, she pulls my blouse apart to expose my breasts and stomach.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Her hands move to my shoulders so she can push the fabric down my arms, and lets it drop on the floor after it passes over my hands.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;She moves her hands to side closure of my slacks.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;She makes quick work of undoing the closure, and then works my pants over my hips.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;The slacks pool at my feet leaving me in my pink bra and pink boyshorts.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;We reach out for the other at the same time.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;My hand going to her collar bone, and hers going to my bra strap.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I caress her collar bone and neck.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;She slowly traces her finger down my bra strap and across the cup.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;She looks me straight into the eye as her finger moves slowly back and forth across where my nipple is.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I can feel the nipple hardening from the sensation.&lt;span style=""&gt;   &lt;/span&gt;I move my hand to the back of her neck, and pull her close to me for a kiss.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;After months of waiting, neither one of us can wait.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;So instead of a soft, shy kiss we open our lips to our tongues to meet.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;As I feel and taste her tongue against mine for the first time, I moan slowly.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Apparently that was all she needed to hear.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;We’re soon kissing each other so deeply; our bodies pressed against each other.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;My right hand is on the back of her neck with my fingers tangling into her hair.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;My left arm is wrapped around her waist as my hand caresses the small of her back.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Both of her arms are around my waist, and her hands have slipped under my waist band of my panties to fondle my ass.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;We’re both moaning from the sensation of the kiss, and how our hands feel on one another.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I can feel my pussy getting wetter with each passing second, and I wonder if she’s having the same reaction.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I pull away from the kiss to ask her, but before I can she whispers “I want to taste you”.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Those simple words cause me to shiver in anticipation.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;She leads me over to the bed but stops me from lying down.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;As I stand there, she kneels in front of me.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;At first I don’t understand what she’s doing until she reaches up and starts to pull on my panties.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;She pulls them down until all I’m wearing is my bra with her eye level with my exposed pussy.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Her hands run up my legs; across my hips; around to my ass checks.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I place my hands in her hair and start caressing her scalp.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Her hands move back to the front of my legs, and move slowly up to the apex of my legs.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I adjust my stance so my legs are further apart.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Her fingers ring my pubic area, and begin to caress the smooth shaven skin.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;She pulls at the skin; pulling each side away from each other.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;My pussy lips are soaking wet and she gets her first feel of my juice as her fingers reach in to pull the lips apart.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I hear her gasp as she exposes my clit that lies just under those lips.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I look down into her face as she looks up into mind.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;We share yet another smile and wink.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Then she moves her hands to my hips, and gives me a gentle push to lie back on the bed.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I place my feet right on the edge of the bed with my knees spread as wide as they will go.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I watch her as she moves in between my legs.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Her hands return to my mound; her fingers gently pulling my pussy lips apart.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;The cool rush of air across my clit makes me jump.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I give a nervous laugh as she looks up into my eyes.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I tell her that the air is cold.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;She just smiles and tells me she knows of a way to warm the skin.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;My breath catches as I watch her head move down to my pussy.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Her lips parted; her tongue slowly working its way past her lips.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;When her tongue runs across my clit for the first time, my back arches in reflex and I give a big moan in pleasure.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I plant my hands firmly into her hair as she takes my clit into her mouth for the first time.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6241704089440477742-4900672954557013977?l=confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/feeds/4900672954557013977/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/2010/01/sweet-fantasy-1.html#comment-form' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6241704089440477742/posts/default/4900672954557013977'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6241704089440477742/posts/default/4900672954557013977'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/2010/01/sweet-fantasy-1.html' title='Sweet Fantasy: Part One'/><author><name>Married Lover</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07379164686571856070</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_198Iuo0-xII/S5HBGDv3OGI/AAAAAAAAAKE/yTPHcwWI8cw/S220/Sheet.JPG'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6241704089440477742.post-5912568172296282110</id><published>2009-12-31T22:14:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2009-12-31T22:19:04.680-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy New Year!</title><content type='html'>This has been a year to remember for me.  I would like to thank everyone who has sent me emails or commented on my entries.  I thoroughly enjoy my adventures, but I enjoy hearing what you think of them as well.   I hope everyone has a safe and wonderful New Year!  May 2010 bring you lots of love, joy, luck!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_198Iuo0-xII/Sz1pj1M3-pI/AAAAAAAAAIc/7wQux5yfsMg/s1600-h/hapNewYearPaint.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 246px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_198Iuo0-xII/Sz1pj1M3-pI/AAAAAAAAAIc/7wQux5yfsMg/s320/hapNewYearPaint.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5421605590721362578" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6241704089440477742-5912568172296282110?l=confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/feeds/5912568172296282110/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/2009/12/happy-new-year.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6241704089440477742/posts/default/5912568172296282110'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6241704089440477742/posts/default/5912568172296282110'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/2009/12/happy-new-year.html' title='Happy New Year!'/><author><name>Married Lover</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07379164686571856070</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_198Iuo0-xII/S5HBGDv3OGI/AAAAAAAAAKE/yTPHcwWI8cw/S220/Sheet.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_198Iuo0-xII/Sz1pj1M3-pI/AAAAAAAAAIc/7wQux5yfsMg/s72-c/hapNewYearPaint.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6241704089440477742.post-102606792082578999</id><published>2009-12-31T01:15:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2009-12-31T01:33:55.115-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='HNT'/><title type='text'>HNT: My Favorite</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://osbasso.blogspot.com/2009/11/years-favorite-hnt-09.html"&gt;Osbasso&lt;/a&gt; has asked for a people to pick their favorite 2009 HNT for the last one of the year.  I've only really gotten into posting a weekly HNT this past month so I didn't have a lot to pick from.  I picked one from last week's "Merry Christmas" batch.  The reversal of colors makes the image look like a negative of a 35mm picture.  As much as I enjoy my digital camera and the various programs I use to edit them, I still miss taking pictures with my first camera.... a 35mm Canon that only took black and white film.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_198Iuo0-xII/SzxFrEqQoLI/AAAAAAAAAIM/JP9xnU5_nA4/s1600-h/NegativeGarland.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 295px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_198Iuo0-xII/SzxFrEqQoLI/AAAAAAAAAIM/JP9xnU5_nA4/s320/NegativeGarland.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5421284657734918322" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://osbasso.blogspot.com/2005/05/guidelines-for-half-nekkid-thursday.html" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img alt="HNTbutton" src="http://static.flickr.com/27/41652855_6ca8bb2b62_o.jpg" height="66" width="100" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6241704089440477742-102606792082578999?l=confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/feeds/102606792082578999/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/2009/12/hnt-my-favorite.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6241704089440477742/posts/default/102606792082578999'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6241704089440477742/posts/default/102606792082578999'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/2009/12/hnt-my-favorite.html' title='HNT: My Favorite'/><author><name>Married Lover</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07379164686571856070</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_198Iuo0-xII/S5HBGDv3OGI/AAAAAAAAAKE/yTPHcwWI8cw/S220/Sheet.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_198Iuo0-xII/SzxFrEqQoLI/AAAAAAAAAIM/JP9xnU5_nA4/s72-c/NegativeGarland.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6241704089440477742.post-3448311098913574046</id><published>2009-12-26T21:18:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2009-12-26T22:08:56.400-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Blackberry problems'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Everyday Life'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Countryboy'/><title type='text'>Christmas Activities</title><content type='html'>The holiday season was a whirlwind for our house.  Thursday, Hubby had to work yet we were expected to attend Mass with his mother that night.  So, I had the privilege of getting up earlier on my first day of vacation to take him to work.  I must have been still half asleep because I went to Best Buy to get a last minute gift for him.  Definitely.... still half asleep.  I made it back home mid-morning and spent a good two hours trying to get my Blackberry back to the settings I had before the whole damn system went down Wednesday night. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Speaking of which.... did anyone else with a Blackberry feel like throwing theirs out the window?  I didn't realize how much I use my Blackberry until I was restricted to phone and SMS services.  Trust me, both Hubby and Countryboy were having to listen to me bitch about the problem Wednesday night; one in person and one via text. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I finally got everything back to "normal" on the Blackberry shortly afternoon Noon on Christmas Eve.  Poor Countryboy.... he was home doing his "Honey Do List"; texting me; and dealing with my grips about resetting me phone.  Of course, I got to hear about his prude of a wife  so I guess we were even.  He keeps mentioning he'd like to find a way for her and I to become friends in the hopes of my naughty side rubbing off on her.  LOL.... from what he's told me I seriously doubt the lady could be naughty. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's finally time for me to get ready for Mass.  Being the non-Catholic Vixen that I am, I wore a form fitting red sweater that has a keyhole cutout big enough to give a peak of my boobies.  I couldn't help myself, lol.  I picked Hubby up from work and we flew over to get his mother since we had only an hour until services started.  Mother-in-law was chomping at the bit when we got to her house which set the tone for the rest of the night. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Services lasted over an hour, and yes I went up during Communion to be be blessed.  By the time we got back to mother-in-law's house I was exhausted and starving.  When we finally got home, I went straight to bed only to be woken up at 3am when the weather alert radio went off.  Thankfully, the alert wasn't for our area but I still could not get back to sleep.  I think I fell asleep around 4am, and managed to get a few more hours of sleep before it was time to open presents.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Since I didn't ask for anything specific this year I wasn't disappointed in my gifts.  As always my mother bought clothes that are a size too big.  For some reason she doesn't believe me when I tell her my correct size.  Hubby gave me a Sandisk Fuze which I'm still trying to figure out why he thinks I need one.  Unfortunately, the damn thing would never turn on even after charging the battery.  Come Monday it's going back to the seller and a new one will be shipped out soon after. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Christmas Day ended at mother-in-law's yet again.  This time both sides of our families met for dinner and fun.  As much as I enjoy getting together with family, I was so glad to get home to peace and quiet.  Today has been the same.... being lazy and enjoying vacation time.  I can only hope that the rest of my vacation will be the same.  Well except for the trips to my high school and to Virginia.  :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6241704089440477742-3448311098913574046?l=confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/feeds/3448311098913574046/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/2009/12/christmas-activities.html#comment-form' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6241704089440477742/posts/default/3448311098913574046'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6241704089440477742/posts/default/3448311098913574046'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/2009/12/christmas-activities.html' title='Christmas Activities'/><author><name>Married Lover</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07379164686571856070</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_198Iuo0-xII/S5HBGDv3OGI/AAAAAAAAAKE/yTPHcwWI8cw/S220/Sheet.JPG'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6241704089440477742.post-2828741447918638543</id><published>2009-12-23T23:38:00.007-05:00</published><updated>2009-12-23T23:51:46.883-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='HNT'/><title type='text'>Merry Christmas!!! (HNT)</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;I got a little carried away with the camera.  What can I say?  I was in the Christmas spirit!!  Since I cannot decide on one picture for this weeks HNT I'm posting my favorites.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Merry Christmas to All and to All a Good Night!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_198Iuo0-xII/SzLw0s0FgZI/AAAAAAAAAHk/5ltJdzLR8Rw/s1600-h/SepiaGarland.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 206px; height: 246px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_198Iuo0-xII/SzLw0s0FgZI/AAAAAAAAAHk/5ltJdzLR8Rw/s320/SepiaGarland.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5418658089853616530" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_198Iuo0-xII/SzLxIx0EIQI/AAAAAAAAAHs/EliLl9L6n3U/s1600-h/NegativeRibbon.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 217px; height: 204px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_198Iuo0-xII/SzLxIx0EIQI/AAAAAAAAAHs/EliLl9L6n3U/s320/NegativeRibbon.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5418658434793087234" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_198Iuo0-xII/SzLzQy1EW4I/AAAAAAAAAIE/2a_cjTRTNjg/s1600-h/NegativeGarland.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 295px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_198Iuo0-xII/SzLzQy1EW4I/AAAAAAAAAIE/2a_cjTRTNjg/s320/NegativeGarland.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5418660771527940994" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6241704089440477742-2828741447918638543?l=confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/feeds/2828741447918638543/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/2009/12/merry-christmas-hnt.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6241704089440477742/posts/default/2828741447918638543'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6241704089440477742/posts/default/2828741447918638543'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/2009/12/merry-christmas-hnt.html' title='Merry Christmas!!! (HNT)'/><author><name>Married Lover</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07379164686571856070</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_198Iuo0-xII/S5HBGDv3OGI/AAAAAAAAAKE/yTPHcwWI8cw/S220/Sheet.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_198Iuo0-xII/SzLw0s0FgZI/AAAAAAAAAHk/5ltJdzLR8Rw/s72-c/SepiaGarland.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6241704089440477742.post-1838228313465932711</id><published>2009-12-22T21:42:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-12-23T00:38:57.381-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Countryboy'/><title type='text'>Early Christmas Present</title><content type='html'>I got an early Christmas present today in the form of a morning with &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Countryboy&lt;/span&gt;.  However, it wasn't one of our typical meetings, but it was damn fun.  In the immortal words of Sophia &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Petrillo&lt;/span&gt;, "Fasten your seat belt, slut puppy. This ain't gonna be no cakewalk!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Countryboy&lt;/span&gt; was running late this morning and by the time he called to say he was in the area I'd heard from my mother twice.  I decided it would be better if I pick him up rather then his truck setting in the drive for a few hours.  We get back to the house and spend a few minutes talking... laughing.  He then hugs me from behind and starts to place soft kisses on the back of my neck.  His kisses are so soft and gentle that it makes my skin tingle and jump.  I couldn't take too much of his kisses, and I quickly turned around to kiss him fully on the mouth.  I don't know what it is about his kisses but they're intoxicating to me.  In no time at all we are naked, and I'm leading him to my bedroom. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We had talked that at our next meeting we'd take things slow, and we honestly tried.  Things were simple in the beginning... until he gave me a breather after my nth &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;orgasm&lt;/span&gt;.  I shocked the hell out of him by taking his cock into my mouth suddenly.  He never thought it would do something like that after he'd just finished fucking me.  My goal wasn't to get him to cum, but to play and tease him.  You know... slow licks; soft kisses.  Apparently, teasing his cock just makes him crazy with lust.  I'll have to remember that for future reference. ;-) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He decided to return the favor and drove my crazy with his tongue and finger.  It must have been after my second orgasm, that time, that I pulled him up &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;in between&lt;/span&gt; my legs and told him to fuck me.  He obliged... boy did he oblige!!!  By the end we were both out of breath, and our hearts were racing a mile a minute.  Afterwards, we &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;layed&lt;/span&gt; next to each talking like we always do.  I was laying on my stomach with my back to the bedroom window where he was looking out the window.  Suddenly, he asked "Who drives a blue van?"  I hopped out of bed to take a peek out the window.  "Oh my God... It's my mother!!!!!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, folks that's right.  My mother decided to make a surprised visit, and guess whose clothes were strung out across the living room.  I told &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;Countryboy&lt;/span&gt; to stay in the bedroom, and I raced to get our clothes.  Thank goodness we threw them into one pile!!  I grabbed the pile and raced back to the bedroom; threw the clothes at him; grabbed my rob of the nearby hook; and then raced back to the front door to let my mother in. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I told her I was getting ready to take a shower.  "Go ahead and take your shower."  Yeah....I don't think so.  It took me ten minutes to get her out of the house.  By the time I walked back to the bedroom I was laughing so hard that I fell on the bed.  &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;Countryboy&lt;/span&gt; was in the bathroom laughing as well.  He crawled onto the bed with me, and we joked about what would he would have done if she'd stayed longer; if his truck had been in the drive; if I had taken the shower with her in the house.  It was funny as hell but also a bit scary.  I thought for sure that he'd get dressed and ask me to take him back to his truck.  But he didn't.  Instead he started kissing me again.  Round Two was soon under way...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We tried a new position.  He stood behind me and fucked me from behind.  Since I'm vertically challenge, this particular position has never really worked that well for me.  So I kept my feet on the floor but braced myself with my hands on the bed.  What happened next was something I never thought &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;Countryboy&lt;/span&gt; would do.  Ladies and Gentlemen... he knocked on the back door and he was invited in!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's been months since I've done any anal play, and that was with my husband.... and even then it wasn't comfortable.  I'll admit that there was some discomfort at first but the pleasure soon overrode any pain I was feeling.  I was even more amazed that once we both got the feel for the position he was fucking me like there was no tomorrow.  Besides I few strokes, I've never actually been fucked in the ass.  I've never had such an intense orgasm as I did in that position.  By the end my legs were numb and I thought for sure I'd never get my breath back.  Neither one of us could believe that had just happened, but neither one of use had anything negative to say about it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Once we were able to stand without falling back down, we got dressed.  The real world was knocking on the door.... again.  I took him back to his truck; got a few more kisses; and then rushed back home to get ready for work. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just before I left for work I got a text from &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;Countryboy&lt;/span&gt;... "Holy fucking shit that was so good"  I'll second that!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6241704089440477742-1838228313465932711?l=confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/feeds/1838228313465932711/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/2009/12/early-christmas-present.html#comment-form' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6241704089440477742/posts/default/1838228313465932711'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6241704089440477742/posts/default/1838228313465932711'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/2009/12/early-christmas-present.html' title='Early Christmas Present'/><author><name>Married Lover</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07379164686571856070</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_198Iuo0-xII/S5HBGDv3OGI/AAAAAAAAAKE/yTPHcwWI8cw/S220/Sheet.JPG'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6241704089440477742.post-710194255217680724</id><published>2009-12-18T21:57:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-12-20T21:03:06.077-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Tex'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Mr. Z'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='The Alchemist'/><title type='text'>Waiting in the wings</title><content type='html'>I really doubt that I will have many adventures with Christmas next week and vacation with hubby the week after.  Most of my fun will be through emails, chats, or texts.  I can only imagine how much sexual energy I'll need to release after the New Year. ;-)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lately I've been talking only about The Guys who I meet for play but I thought I would introduce three guys who I haven't had a chance to play with.... yet.  What's extremely odd for me is that all three of these guys read my blog on a fairly basis.  Hopefully, they feel that I do them justice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;The Alchemist&lt;/span&gt; - The Alchemist and I began chatting on AFF shortly before Thanksgiving.  We met for a short time on Black Friday.  I took hubby to work that day and like always I had IM turned on via my phone.  I was in the parking lot waiting for the store to open when Alchemist sent me a message.  We talked for a good length of time, including while I was shopping.  It turned out that he lived less then a mile from the shopping center where I was at.  After awhile he told me that he was going out to get breakfast and wanted to know if I'd like to meet.  I said sure.  Because of the traffic, it took me longer then usual to get to the meeting place and I thought for sure he'd leave.  No.... he was there waiting for me and even had a soft drink ready for me since I mentioned I needed caffeine just to make it home.  I have no idea how long we sat there and talked.  Like always I noticed him shuffling in his seat so I knew he had to readjust something.  For me that's a big turn-on!  It was soon time for him to return home before his wife started wondering where he was.  We hugged and went our separate ways.  We haven't talked a whole lot since then, but he's surprised me with some of the things he's said.  If things progress then fun will be had all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Mr. Z&lt;/span&gt; - I got a surprise email from Mr. Z a few weeks.  He and I exchanged emails for a time last winter... when all I did was chat and email guys.  He stopped sending emails suddenly so I though that was it.  So, I was pleasantly surprised to hear from him again.  He asked how things were with me, and I told him that I went from chatting with guys to meeting guys.  He didn't seemed too surprised, lol.  We have been exchanging pictures recently... HNT type of pictures.  He has some interesting ideas for HNT pictures.  Who knows... maybe he'll become my photographer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Tex&lt;/span&gt; - Tex reminds me a little of Neighbor C but twenty years younger.  The similarity it that they are both Horndogs!  It's so much fun to chat with Tex because he's no-hold-bars one moment and discuss world politics the next.  I call him Tex because his IM picture has him wearing a straw cowboy hat.  He doesn't have the hat anymore which is a real shame.  I think it would be fun to wear it while we play.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Who knows what the New Year holds for us all. ;-)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6241704089440477742-710194255217680724?l=confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/feeds/710194255217680724/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/2009/12/waiting-in-wings.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6241704089440477742/posts/default/710194255217680724'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6241704089440477742/posts/default/710194255217680724'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/2009/12/waiting-in-wings.html' title='Waiting in the wings'/><author><name>Married Lover</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07379164686571856070</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_198Iuo0-xII/S5HBGDv3OGI/AAAAAAAAAKE/yTPHcwWI8cw/S220/Sheet.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6241704089440477742.post-7929157467318732718</id><published>2009-12-17T00:48:00.012-05:00</published><updated>2009-12-17T01:11:36.175-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='HNT'/><title type='text'>Christmas Bows - HNT</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_198Iuo0-xII/SynHCW9XBXI/AAAAAAAAAG8/v2fZfUZXiDY/s1600-h/FuzzyCircle.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 282px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_198Iuo0-xII/SynHCW9XBXI/AAAAAAAAAG8/v2fZfUZXiDY/s320/FuzzyCircle.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5416078870226339186" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_198Iuo0-xII/SynHRdHML8I/AAAAAAAAAHE/4gJ7VWi0uYI/s1600-h/RedCircle.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 266px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_198Iuo0-xII/SynHRdHML8I/AAAAAAAAAHE/4gJ7VWi0uYI/s320/RedCircle.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5416079129576222658" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_198Iuo0-xII/SynKLIZOGqI/AAAAAAAAAHU/HQ5DUc-hq9g/s1600-h/ReverseCircle.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 286px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_198Iuo0-xII/SynKLIZOGqI/AAAAAAAAAHU/HQ5DUc-hq9g/s320/ReverseCircle.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5416082319470369442" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;I downloaded a new photo program.  It's been awhilesince I've been able to do more then crop my photos.  I like the options so far. ;-)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:georgia,bookman old style,palatino linotype,book antiqua,palatino,trebuchet ms,helvetica,garamond,sans-serif,arial,verdana,avante garde,century gothic,comic sans ms,times,times new roman,serif;" &gt;And the Grinch, with his Grinch-feet ice cold in the snow, stood puzzling and puzzling, how could it be so?  It came without ribbons.  It came without tags.  It came without packages, boxes or bags.  And he puzzled and puzzled 'till his puzzler was sore.  Then the Grinch thought of something he hadn't before.  What if Christmas, he thought, doesn't come from a store.  What if Christmas, perhaps, means a little bit more.&lt;br /&gt;~Dr. Seuss&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6241704089440477742-7929157467318732718?l=confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/feeds/7929157467318732718/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/2009/12/hnt-7.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6241704089440477742/posts/default/7929157467318732718'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6241704089440477742/posts/default/7929157467318732718'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/2009/12/hnt-7.html' title='Christmas Bows - HNT'/><author><name>Married Lover</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07379164686571856070</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_198Iuo0-xII/S5HBGDv3OGI/AAAAAAAAAKE/yTPHcwWI8cw/S220/Sheet.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_198Iuo0-xII/SynHCW9XBXI/AAAAAAAAAG8/v2fZfUZXiDY/s72-c/FuzzyCircle.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6241704089440477742.post-6511539608626610719</id><published>2009-12-11T20:07:00.006-05:00</published><updated>2010-01-18T15:42:54.638-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Fireman C'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Countryboy'/><title type='text'>Marathon Sex</title><content type='html'>Yesterday was a first for me.... the first time I have ever had, what I'd call, Marathon Sex.  What makes it so unique in my eyes is that each time was with a different man.  That was not my intention when I woke up this morning!!  The only thing of my agenda for the day was two blissful hours with Countryboy.  That changed as soon as my husband woke up...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For the first time in weeks, Hubby wanted to make love.  Same-o, same-o in that regard.  So he was #1.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got Hubby off to work and got the living room ready for Countryboy.    Ever since last week he's mentioned how he wanted to make love in front of the Christmas tree.  So, I made a nice big "bed" right in front of the tree and text him that the coast was clear. He arrived soon after, and just like last Friday we were on each other before the door was closed.   We knew that we didn't need to rush but, for me, I can't get enough of his kisses.  In no time our clothes were all over the floor, and he was sitting on the couch with me kneeling in between his legs.  I guess I don't need to tell you where my mouth was. ;-)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last week, he didn't make a sound while I sucked on his cock but this week was a completely different story.  He moans, whimpered, gasped, and even talked dirty for the first time.  What I found very erotic was watching his face as I had his cock in my mouth.  I've never done that before, and I don't know why.  But seeing his eyes close and his head go back made me apply myself to the job at hand.  And making eye contact with him was even more of a turn-on for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He finally pulled me off of his cock so we could kiss some more, and he began fondling my pussy.  He couldn't believe what he found!!  He told me to show him how I masturbate while thinking about him.  I laid back in front of him and proceeded to give him a good demonstration.  Then he decided to help and added his on fingers to the play.  He seemed very interested in the back door.  I felt his fingers caressing it every so often, and I didn't mind at all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In a flash he was on the floor with me.... in between my legs and his mouth attached to my pussy.  He did things that no man has ever done while eating on me.  When I couldn't take it any longer, I pulled him up so I could kiss him.  That got him into the perfect position for missionary.  In time at all I was screaming his name.  The funniest thing was that during our fun one of the ornaments fell from the Christmas tree.  We both started laughing, and then continued on with what we were doing.  Before long he told me that he was ready, and asked if I wanted him to come in my mouth.  I told him yes, and he pulled back from me.  This was another first for me.... fucking and then having the guy come in my mouth.  He was soon coming and he tasted so good!!  I had latched on to his cock in an attempt to get every drop and that just made him moan loud and long.  As soon as he was done, we both collapsed onto the floor.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We were both out of breath and our hearts were racing.  He opened his arms for me and I snuggled right up next to him.  We spend the next thirty minutes talking, caressing, and kissing.  He was soon hard again and wanted some more.  He told me not to move (I was on my stomach), and he crawled over me to start kissing my shoulders and the back of my neck.  He slowly placed kisses up and down my spin, which drove me crazy.  I was shocked when he back to kiss my ass checks, and just the top of my legs.  He was driving me crazy!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Soon I was up on my knees with him behind me.  As he fucked me, he would still kiss my neck and shoulders.  He likes to lean against my back when we're in the doggy position.  He took his time and drove me crazy with orgasms.  At one point he whispered in my ear that he wanted me to ride him.  So we switched positions and I climbed on him.  I couldn't begin to count how many orgasms I had in that position.  We learned that if he sucked on my nipples that I'd have an orgasm instantly.  He told me that he loved being squeezed by my pussy.... that caused a few more orgasms.  Towards the end he had his hands hold my face so that we were looking each other in the eye.  It didn't take long after that for us to share a large orgasm.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We spent the rest of our time in each others arms... kissing, touching, caressing, and talking.  Then it was time for him to return home, and that was the end of #2.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I spent the rest of the day relaxing and remembering my time with Countryboy.  I had planned to bake Christmas cookies but I just didn't have the energy to do that.  Around 5 o'clock, I got a IM from Fireman C.  He was bored at the local VFD.  We exchanged a few graphic messages, and then he wanted to know what I was wearing.  "Jeans and t-shirt" just wasn't good enough for him so I took a picture of myself in just my bra and boyshorts, and sent it to him.  Before long he was asking about meeting.... coming over to my house.  We agreed to met someplace local and arrived at the same time.  He came over to my SUV and asked if I wanted him to follow me home.  I just told him to jump in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As soon as we got into the door, we started kissing.  Fireman C is very agressive and his kisses are that way as well.  We quickly took our clothes off and he was on the couch.... sensing a deja vu, here?  Unlike Countryboy, Fireman C is rough and vulgar in the things he says.  As I sucked on him, he had a death grip on my hair.  I don't know why that feeling of pain excites me but for some reason with him it does.  He called me all kinds of things... slut, bitch, and whore.  Why is it that I cannot stand being called those things usually but hearing him calling me that excites me?  Strange....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm not exactly sure how it happened but we were soon on the floor in a 69 position with me on top.  I guess it would be redunant to say he was agressive in eating me.  Of course, he didn't complain when his actions caused me to suck extremely hard on his cock.  In no time at all he was coming in my mouth and moaning like he was on deaths door.  He actually had to take time to recover.... panting on the floor with his head in my lap.  Once he caught his breath, he was up and kissing me; positioning me so that I was on top of his cock. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Things ended with me exhausted from doing all the work.  We chatted for a little bit before he started getting dressed.  He's paranoid about us getting caught by Hubby.  I guess that comes from the fact that I'm the first married woman he's every played with.  I took him back to his car and that ended my time with #3.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I go from playing with five guys within seven days to playing with three guys in a twelve hour time frame.  Holy Shit!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On a side note.... I had ordered some lace boyshorts earlier in the week to go with some VS bras I've had for awhile.  I was so hoping that they would be here in time to show Countryboy, but they didn't arrive in time.  They were in the mailbox this afternoon and I couldn't wait to take a picture of myself in a pair.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_198Iuo0-xII/SyR6UKhog3I/AAAAAAAAAGc/dyTfXTaTLrw/s1600-h/IMG_0937.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_198Iuo0-xII/SyR6UKhog3I/AAAAAAAAAGc/dyTfXTaTLrw/s200/IMG_0937.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5414587138847572850" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6241704089440477742-6511539608626610719?l=confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/feeds/6511539608626610719/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/2009/12/marathon-sex.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6241704089440477742/posts/default/6511539608626610719'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6241704089440477742/posts/default/6511539608626610719'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/2009/12/marathon-sex.html' title='Marathon Sex'/><author><name>Married Lover</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07379164686571856070</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_198Iuo0-xII/S5HBGDv3OGI/AAAAAAAAAKE/yTPHcwWI8cw/S220/Sheet.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_198Iuo0-xII/SyR6UKhog3I/AAAAAAAAAGc/dyTfXTaTLrw/s72-c/IMG_0937.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6241704089440477742.post-7621319880218374382</id><published>2009-12-10T00:37:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-12-10T00:54:50.810-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='HNT'/><title type='text'>When Christmas Comes to Town - HNT</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_198Iuo0-xII/SyCMtjKZW9I/AAAAAAAAAGU/16_IGePsqzg/s1600-h/IMG_0867.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 234px; height: 189px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_198Iuo0-xII/SyCMtjKZW9I/AAAAAAAAAGU/16_IGePsqzg/s200/IMG_0867.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5413481466260184018" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;I'm wishing on a star&lt;br /&gt;And trying to believe&lt;br /&gt;That even though it's far&lt;br /&gt;He'll find me Christmas Eve&lt;br /&gt;I guess that Santa's busy&lt;br /&gt;Cause he's never come around&lt;br /&gt;I think of him&lt;br /&gt;When Christmas comes to town&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The best time of the year&lt;br /&gt;When everyone comes home&lt;br /&gt;With all this Christmas cheer&lt;br /&gt;It's hard to be alone&lt;br /&gt;Putting up the Christmas tree&lt;br /&gt;With friends who come around&lt;br /&gt;It's so much fun&lt;br /&gt;When Christmas comes to town&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Presents for the children&lt;br /&gt;Wrapped in red and green&lt;br /&gt;All the things I've heard about&lt;br /&gt;But never really seen&lt;br /&gt;No one will be sleeping on the night of Christmas Eve&lt;br /&gt;Hoping Santa's on his way&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When Santa's sleigh bells ring&lt;br /&gt;I listen all around&lt;br /&gt;The herald angels sing&lt;br /&gt;I never hear a sound&lt;br /&gt;And all the dreams of children&lt;br /&gt;Once lost will all be found&lt;br /&gt;That's all I want when Christmas comes to town&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6241704089440477742-7621319880218374382?l=confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/feeds/7621319880218374382/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/2009/12/when-christmas-comes-to-town-hnt.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6241704089440477742/posts/default/7621319880218374382'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6241704089440477742/posts/default/7621319880218374382'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/2009/12/when-christmas-comes-to-town-hnt.html' title='When Christmas Comes to Town - HNT'/><author><name>Married Lover</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07379164686571856070</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_198Iuo0-xII/S5HBGDv3OGI/AAAAAAAAAKE/yTPHcwWI8cw/S220/Sheet.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_198Iuo0-xII/SyCMtjKZW9I/AAAAAAAAAGU/16_IGePsqzg/s72-c/IMG_0867.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6241704089440477742.post-619749237188215610</id><published>2009-12-06T15:22:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2009-12-06T16:05:11.878-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Countryboy'/><title type='text'>The end of a busy week</title><content type='html'>Never in my life have I ever had so much sex in one week!  I don't know how it all happened, but I'll say one thing... I'm not sorry.  Five different guys within one week.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Friday - Neighbor C&lt;br /&gt;Saturday - Fireman C&lt;br /&gt;Monday - Jack&lt;br /&gt;Wednesday - Double D&lt;br /&gt;Friday - Countryboy&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes!  That's right!  Countryboy finally asked about getting together for some fun.  I wasn't sure if he'd really go through with it, and so I wasn't banking on anything happening Friday.  He shocked me Thursday night by sending me two short videos from his phone.  I didn't know what to expect but both videos were of him sending me a kiss.  It was the sweetest thing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, we made arrangements Thursday night for him to come over to the house Friday while I was home for lunch.  He would be in town waiting for my text telling him I was on the way home.  Friday morning he sent me another video.... involving the shower and a towel. :-)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lunch time arrived.  I sent the text that I was on my way home, and he replied that he would be there soon.  Five minutes after I got home he was pulling into the drive.  I let him in the front door.  Before the door was even fully closed he was kissing me.  We stripped our clothes right there in the foyer, and I was soon on my knees in front of him with his cock in my mouth.  He didn't make much noise but I could tell he was enjoying what I was doing by how his hands were grabbing my hair.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was soon time to take things to a more comfortable place.  I took his hands and pulled him down the hall to the bedroom.  He didn't waste time getting me on the bed with my legs spread wide.... so he could get his face buried in my pussy.  He wasn't too sure about how good he'd be with his tongue since his wife doesn't like for him to go down on her.  It was like riding a bike... he remembered how to do it without any problems.  He told me afterward that he smiled each time I moaned because he knew he was doing something right.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then it was time for some serious play.  I've never been a fan of the missionary position because the guy and I could never get into a matching rhythm.  That wasn't the case with Countryboy.  It didn't take us hardly any time before we were in perfect sync.  I have never enjoyed missionary so much as I did with him.  It wasn't all about how fast he was pumping, but rather how we met each other at just the right time.  I was quickly cumming and cumming hard.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He did something I never thought he'd do.... he turned around and got into a 69 position.  As he buried his face into my pussy, I took his cock into my mouth.  He was quickly fucking my mouth and I enjoyed every moment of it.  Doggy... my favorite position was next on the agenda.  He managed to get into my so deep that it no time at all I was having one long continuous orgasm.  It was fabulous!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Afterward, we laid in bed holding each other... kissing; caressing; talking.  Thirty minutes had past since he walked in the door and I still had thirty minutes before I needed to be back at work.  I was worried that he would call things off over guilt and because of his &lt;a href="http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/2009/11/tender-goodby.html"&gt;letter&lt;/a&gt; from early in November.  I asked him a few times if he was alright and he told me yes each time.  Time seemed to fly by at that point and soon we were both getting dressed.  Before stepping out of the house we stood in the foyer holding each other and kissing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He's emailed me a few times and send me texts occasionally over the weekend.  He doesn't seem to be beating himself up about what happened, and has asked about when we can get together again.  He's even asked that I wear something just for him.  Who knows... I just might.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6241704089440477742-619749237188215610?l=confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/feeds/619749237188215610/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/2009/12/end-of-busy-week.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6241704089440477742/posts/default/619749237188215610'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6241704089440477742/posts/default/619749237188215610'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/2009/12/end-of-busy-week.html' title='The end of a busy week'/><author><name>Married Lover</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07379164686571856070</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_198Iuo0-xII/S5HBGDv3OGI/AAAAAAAAAKE/yTPHcwWI8cw/S220/Sheet.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6241704089440477742.post-3474660915561606749</id><published>2009-12-03T07:08:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2009-12-03T08:19:50.130-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Double D'/><title type='text'>About Damn Time</title><content type='html'>Yesterday was an interesting one to say the least.  I hadn't mentioned it in detail, but yesterday I was suppose to meet a new guy for some afternoon fun.... hours of afternoon fun.  The plan was for him to text me mid-morning with the hotel room number and I'd be there shortly after 12pm.  Well, 12pm came and no text, no call..... nothing.  I sent him several messages but I didn't get a response.  So, I go home to my lonely house to find something to occupy my afternoon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just as I finish putting down my bags my phone ding-dongs with an incoming message.... from Double D.  "What's up buttercup?"  I tell him that I just got home and have the afternoon off.  "Sounds fun, missed you today"  Frankly, I was surprised at that response.  The last few days of messages have been mundane at best, and I was beginning to think he was losing interest.  Of all the guys I currently see/chat/text with, I've known him the longest yet I've done the least amount playing with.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I'm working but my mind was on you so :-D"&lt;br /&gt;"And what were you thinking about me?"&lt;br /&gt;"Your lips wrapped around me"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After the number of blowjobs I've given in the last week, the idea of doing that to D caused a certain reaction. ;-)  That set off a chain reaction of picture taking since I know he likes it so much...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_198Iuo0-xII/Sxeu73UxkaI/AAAAAAAAAF0/IzGeqhOU3I0/s1600-h/IMG00567b.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 266px; height: 130px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_198Iuo0-xII/Sxeu73UxkaI/AAAAAAAAAF0/IzGeqhOU3I0/s200/IMG00567b.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5410985820795539874" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_198Iuo0-xII/SxevOq1tGoI/AAAAAAAAAF8/Dl0FFEpDWxM/s1600-h/IMG00571b.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 292px; height: 126px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_198Iuo0-xII/SxevOq1tGoI/AAAAAAAAAF8/Dl0FFEpDWxM/s200/IMG00571b.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5410986143861512834" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_198Iuo0-xII/SxevbGaF9eI/AAAAAAAAAGE/mumaYndWgJ0/s1600-h/IMG00574b.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 288px; height: 148px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_198Iuo0-xII/SxevbGaF9eI/AAAAAAAAAGE/mumaYndWgJ0/s200/IMG00574b.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5410986357420324322" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He of course was enjoying the "show", and there were several more... each one had a little less clothing and a hell of a lot more skin.  With each encouraging response from him got me taking yet another picture.  Then I got a text I thought I'd never get.  "I really like so &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;kiss &lt;/span&gt;for you"  That's first time D has ever give a text kiss in three months of knowing each other.  In fact that was the first kind of affection he's ever shown via the phone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The conversation got a little less sexual because we again got on topic of why we haven't been together after knowing each other three months.  At one point I sarcastically asking "Are we just going to tease each other until we're old and gray?"  "Yes but I hope there is release and then more teasing then repeat."  He then asked what my schedule was like for the rest of the week.... one word was given in response, "Busy".  Suddenly, he's talking about leaving work as soon as he finishes a project.  To be honest, I didn't believe him for a minute since I've heard that all before.  But, I needed to get groceries for dinner and there's a store right behind his business.  So, I decided to see what happened...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Shortly after I got to the store I get a message from him telling me the project is taking longer then he thought and he probably wouldn't get off work in time.  Big surprise there.  I could actually sense his surprise when I replied telling him I was right next door getting groceries.  Sure enough, within 15 minutes he was asking me if I was done and if I could meet him in a secluded part of the parking lot.  So, I finished my shopping and drove over to the area he mentioned.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He pulled up next to my SUV shortly afterward, and rushes around to get in the passenger seat.  We talk for a few minutes since it has been over a month since actually seeing each other.  Then I noticed he was just staring at me with his crystal clear blue eyes.  I asked him what he was looking at and he just said "nothing.... just looking".  He soon asked me what vein I keep talking about when he sends me pictures of his cock.  He undoes his jeans and pulls his cock out, and I caress this one vein he has that drives me crazy for some reason.  Then I take him into my mouth and proceed to give him the blowjob I've been wanting to give for months. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;D has this little quirk that can be very annoying sometimes.... he doesn't focus on one thing.  So after 20 minutes and getting nothing but a sore jaw I knew he was paying more attention to what was going on out side the SUV then what was going on inside it.  So, I stopped the blowjob but continued to caress him.  He asked if I was okay (because even in 50 degree weather I was working up a sweat, lol).  I told him yes but he wasn't helping matters by looking elsewhere.  He put the seat back and told meI had his complete attention.  I started back on sucking his cock and this time I gave it all I had.  It wasn't long before I was rewarded for my efforts.  I will say this for D... he packs a bunch!!  When all was said and done, it was almost an hour later and he had 20 minutes to get home. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have no idea if yesterday will speed things up between D and myself.  But it does say something when we've both waited months for that one sexual act.  We shall see what happens next....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6241704089440477742-3474660915561606749?l=confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/feeds/3474660915561606749/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/2009/12/about-damn-time.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6241704089440477742/posts/default/3474660915561606749'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6241704089440477742/posts/default/3474660915561606749'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/2009/12/about-damn-time.html' title='About Damn Time'/><author><name>Married Lover</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07379164686571856070</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_198Iuo0-xII/S5HBGDv3OGI/AAAAAAAAAKE/yTPHcwWI8cw/S220/Sheet.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_198Iuo0-xII/Sxeu73UxkaI/AAAAAAAAAF0/IzGeqhOU3I0/s72-c/IMG00567b.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6241704089440477742.post-3004353306671491032</id><published>2009-12-03T00:23:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-12-03T00:47:12.630-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='HNT'/><title type='text'>HNT #6</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_198Iuo0-xII/SxdPtF9B48I/AAAAAAAAAFs/1aMs2Lt5WBo/s1600-h/IMG_0862.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 179px; height: 255px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_198Iuo0-xII/SxdPtF9B48I/AAAAAAAAAFs/1aMs2Lt5WBo/s200/IMG_0862.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5410881113419801538" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just love our Christmas tree this year.  I spend my evenings on the couch with the lights as the only illumination in the room.  For the month of December, my HNT pictures will all have the tree as part of the background. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6241704089440477742-3004353306671491032?l=confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/feeds/3004353306671491032/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/2009/12/hnt-6.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6241704089440477742/posts/default/3004353306671491032'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6241704089440477742/posts/default/3004353306671491032'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/2009/12/hnt-6.html' title='HNT #6'/><author><name>Married Lover</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07379164686571856070</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_198Iuo0-xII/S5HBGDv3OGI/AAAAAAAAAKE/yTPHcwWI8cw/S220/Sheet.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_198Iuo0-xII/SxdPtF9B48I/AAAAAAAAAFs/1aMs2Lt5WBo/s72-c/IMG_0862.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6241704089440477742.post-6756010008793900069</id><published>2009-12-02T00:49:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-12-02T01:25:12.965-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Jack'/><title type='text'>So that's where the saying comes from...</title><content type='html'>I've always heard the expression, "fuck like rabbits".  I truly had no idea what that really meant until last night. I meet a new guy last night who I'll refer to as Jack.  We started chatting a little over two weeks ago, and meet via AFF.  He's single, a workout nut, and very nice.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He's been asking me to come over to his house for almost a week now, but it's difficult to sneak out at midnight without hubby noticing.  ;-)  We made plans for me to go over after work and while hubby was still at work.  I had to laugh at his house because it was like walking into a college boys apartment... a few chairs, nothing on the walls, yet a huge entertainment with all the latest equipment.  We actually spent over an hour talking and getting to know each other better.  I laughed to myself when I'd see him cross his hands over his crotch trying to hide his hard on.  I thought he'd never ask me but I finally heard... "wanna see my room?"  Just like college....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We got comfortable on his bed; talked some more; moved ever so slowly closer together.  I turned onto my stomach next to him and he started to rub my back through my shirt.  He worked his hand down my back to the spot where my shirt was just above the top of my jeans.  His hand worked its way under my shirt and slowly up my back.  His touch was gentle and tender.  He soon asked me to remove my shirt and I obliged him.  I stretched out on my side next to him, and he began caressing my breasts through the bra.  He gently exposed one breast and began sucking on it.  OMG!!  I now know what it would be like to have a baby nurse.  He never stopped sucking... never took a breath!!  He released my nipple long enough to tell me to get ride of my jeans and panties.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As soon as I was naked, he pulled me close and returned to sucking on my nipple.  I have never had any man spend so much time doing this particular act.  It was amazing!!  I have no idea how long he was at my breast but it had to have been ten minutes at least.  During that time I could feel my juice overflowing on to my legs, and I had two orgasms just from him sucking on one nipple.  Before I could catch my breath, he had two fingers in my and pounding on my pussy with his hand.  Orgasm three soon followed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was soon time to have feel his cock inside me.  Oh the feeling was heavenly!!  He held my legs wide and kept a fast pace making me got nuts in pleasure.  Orgasm four.  He soon covered me with his body but kept one leg up by keeping his arm under it.  I've never experienced that position before, and it does add unique sensation to the plain ol' missionary position.  He kept up a quick pace until his first orgasm.  From previous lovers, I thought that would be it.  Boy was I wrong!!  He never stopped pumping into my but rather slowed down just a bit.  Then he got a second wind and started up again.  I couldn't believe it!  By this time I've lost track of how many orgasms I've had.  I was enjoying the pleasure too much.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just when I thought things were coming to an end his paced increased to the point that rabbits would have been taking notes. I've never experience a man who fucked at such a speed.  The pleasure was so intense that I honestly thought I couldn't handle it.  Just before the end, we were hugging on each other so tightly and then Jack gave a loud moan and tightened his hold on me.  As we both tried to catch our breaths I heard him whisper "beautiful" before kissing my shoulder.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Afterward, we lay together enjoying the sensation of sexual release.  We chatted some more and then I realized that I only had an hour before hubby got off work.  We got dressed and I collected my items to leave.  Jack asked if I was glad that I came over, and I told him yes.  Then he asked if I'd come back.  I told him "yes... if you'll have me back".  He just smiled and kissed me.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I do believe I've found a lover who can be a friend as well.  Hopefully, things will work out between us so that we have regular meetings.  :-)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6241704089440477742-6756010008793900069?l=confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/feeds/6756010008793900069/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/2009/12/so-thats-where-saying-comes-from.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6241704089440477742/posts/default/6756010008793900069'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6241704089440477742/posts/default/6756010008793900069'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/2009/12/so-thats-where-saying-comes-from.html' title='So that&apos;s where the saying comes from...'/><author><name>Married Lover</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07379164686571856070</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_198Iuo0-xII/S5HBGDv3OGI/AAAAAAAAAKE/yTPHcwWI8cw/S220/Sheet.JPG'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6241704089440477742.post-4132840869128962828</id><published>2009-11-29T11:10:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2009-11-29T11:49:30.894-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Fireman C'/><title type='text'>Fire! Fire! Fire!</title><content type='html'>I was so tired from a long day of work yesterday.  I get home; have some dinner; and then log onto AFF to see what's new.  Then my phone gives the ding ding of a incoming text.  I take a look and it's from Fireman C.  He and I have chatted occasionally but nothing much in recent weeks.  In fact, I noticed last week that his AFF profile now includes a single female he sees.  Back to last night though....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He asks what I'm doing.  "Nothing.... just home alone.  You?"  "Horny as hell!!"  That gives me a laugh and I ask him where his lady friend is at.  He tells me that they're just fuck buddies and aren't together as a couple.  I agree to meet him someone near my house but where there's not a lot of traffic.  I arrive before he does and decided to wait outside my SUV.  Previous, meets in parking lots have taught me my lesson. ;-)  He soon arrives and I walk over to greet him.  We exchange pleasantries for a few minutes.  Then we hear the sirens of a fire truck leaving the station a few blocks over.  I turn my head in that direction and that's when he smacks me on the ass.  I gave a yelp of surprise and quickly turn back to him.  He just smiles; puts his arms around me and starts kissing me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In all of the guys I've meet since my journey began, C has been the only one to kiss for that amount of time.  We were like teenagers.... kissing, fondling.  He asked about going back to the house but I wasn't comfortable with that.  So, we stayed there in the parking lot acting like teenagers.  C did do something that's never been done to be before.  He grabbed my hair, hard, as we kissed.  I always thought I wouldn't like that but it added a heightened sense of desire to a kiss.  Very powerful!! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Soon I had his cock in my hand, stroking it as we kissed.  He was worked up because there was already precum on his cock as I wrapped my hand around it.  His hand found its way into my jeans and into my panties.  He went straight for my clit and was relentless is playing with it.   I had to hide my face into his shoulder to muffle my moans.  It didn't take me long to cum and he still didn't stop.  He eventually asked me if I came and I moaned a "yes.... still cuming".  Soon after that he removed his hand; cleaned his fingers and then gave me a good hard kiss. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When we came up for air, I asked if he had room in the back seat of his SUV.  He said no, not with the equipment he needs for work.  I took his hand I led him to my SUV.  We climbed into the back seat; he got comfortable and I wrapped my lips around his cock.  He grabbed my hair again and started raising his hips to fuck my mouth.  I heard him tell me that when he cums he cums a lot.  I just gave a laugh around his cock and continued on with my fun.  Before long he began moaning that he was cuming and boy did he!!  I continued to suck on his cock and collect all that cum in my mouth. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Afterwards, we kissed for awhile longer and then talked.  I found out something very interesting about Fireman C.  Last night was the first time he'd ever been with a married woman before.  He told me he'd have to go to church and ask for forgiveness.  I don't know if he and I will meet up again, but I certainly hope so.  I'd like to have him control me just once while fucking.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6241704089440477742-4132840869128962828?l=confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/feeds/4132840869128962828/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/2009/11/fire-fire-fire.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6241704089440477742/posts/default/4132840869128962828'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6241704089440477742/posts/default/4132840869128962828'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/2009/11/fire-fire-fire.html' title='Fire! Fire! Fire!'/><author><name>Married Lover</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07379164686571856070</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_198Iuo0-xII/S5HBGDv3OGI/AAAAAAAAAKE/yTPHcwWI8cw/S220/Sheet.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6241704089440477742.post-6123140465666795053</id><published>2009-11-27T22:12:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2009-11-28T12:33:39.364-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Neighbor C'/><title type='text'>Afternoon Delight</title><content type='html'>Today was Black Friday and I ventured out into the madness of bargain shopping.  After getting all the deals I wanted, I came home to an empty house and began decorating.  I soon heard the tweet of an incoming IM.  It was Neighbor C.  The chat went the same as always.... lots of flirting and graphic description of how we'd pleasure each other.  Suddenly he tells me that he has to make a run to the post office.  Now, C lives less then half a mile from me and my house is on the way to the post office.  To be honest I wasn't too sure he'd actually stop by.  A message comes in, "What are you wearing?".... "tshirt and jeans".... "Get rid of the jeans because I'm going to come eat you".  The jeans didn't immediately come off.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A few minutes passed and then I get another message, "getting ready to leave... be there in a few minutes".  I don't think I've stripped jeans and panties so quickly in my life!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I waited in the living room in nothing but my tshirt.  The front door was open, and I was watching for his truck.  Sure enough... he was soon pulling into my drive.  When he got to the storm door, he peaked in and I just motioned him in with my index finger.  He came right into my house; walked right over to me and gave me a demanding kiss.  That man knows what to do with his tongue!!!  He quickly backed me up against the couch and followed me down.  When I was down (legs spread wide), he went right for the sweet spot.  Not only does he know how to use his tongue for deep kissing, but he also knows how to use that fine tongue to stimulate a clit.  That tongue never stopped moving!!!  I quickly came but he didn't stop.  By the time I was having one continuous orgasm, he had my clit and pussy lips in his mouth sucking for all he was worth.  My legs were over his should and it was all I could do not to wrap them around his head to hold him there for hours.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After I caught my breath, he stood up in front of me and began undoing his jeans.  As soon as his cock was free I had it in my mouth.  He gave a moan and I began sucking him deep into my mouth.  I loved hearing his moans of pleasure!  He soon had his hands in my hair and fucking my mouth.  As soon as I heard, "I'm going to cum", I locked my lips around cock.  Mmmmmm.... he tasted so good.  I continued to suck on him gently until he was done, and then I cleaned his cock.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He gave me a kiss; said thank you; and was soon leaving.  After wards, I kept thinking how I want to have that cock buried inside me.  C's cock fit perfectly into my mouth and I can only hope the fit is just as good between his cock and my pussy.  Even if it takes us two months for that day to come, I'd be happy having a lickin' like that on a weekly basis.  Maybe next time I'll offer him my vibrator and he can use that on me, too.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6241704089440477742-6123140465666795053?l=confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/feeds/6123140465666795053/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/2009/11/afternoon-delight.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6241704089440477742/posts/default/6123140465666795053'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6241704089440477742/posts/default/6123140465666795053'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/2009/11/afternoon-delight.html' title='Afternoon Delight'/><author><name>Married Lover</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07379164686571856070</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_198Iuo0-xII/S5HBGDv3OGI/AAAAAAAAAKE/yTPHcwWI8cw/S220/Sheet.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6241704089440477742.post-4656699813418303884</id><published>2009-11-23T18:53:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2009-11-27T15:44:35.100-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Medic J'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Mr and Mrs'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Mr. B'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Double D'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Countryboy'/><title type='text'>Role Call!!</title><content type='html'>So, I spent last week just trying to get through the week.  After the week before I wasn't interested in hearing anything from any of the Guys.  Of course, by Friday I was setting up a future meeting with a gentleman from AFF.  He and I will be meeting for an afternoon of fun next week, so I'll be sure to write about that encounter.  If he does even half of the stuff he's described in our chats, I will be one happy lady.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now it's time for The Guys to report for role call...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Countryboy - He and I are back to emailing and texting.  Honestly, I don't think anything physical will ever happy between us.  I'm okay with that because I'm enjoying things just the way they are between him and I.  We had made plans to meet for lunch last Friday but his wife told him she was taking half a day from work.  He stayed home waiting for here and was about ready to come meet me anyway when she called to say she was on her way home.  He was pissed when all she did was kiss him; told him she was going to take a nap and not to disturb her.  That boy has some serious marital issues!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Double D - I'm not sure what to make of D.  One minute he's all about "making this happen" and then the next it's talking about work.  Just tonight, he started in on how things have gotten cool between us, but then we haven't seen each other since early October.  Apparently, he doesn't like that we have been talking less and flirtly is almost non-existence.  Compared to others I chat with D doesn't return the flirts or encourage them, so I guess that's a big part of why I haven't made that much of an effort recently.  He's wanting to get together Friday so we'll see what happens.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mr. B - B will always be in my life.  He and I understand each other.  We may got days without talking but there's never any pressure for either of us to be together.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;s&gt;Medic J&lt;/s&gt; - I haven't heard from him in over a week.  Enough said...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;s&gt;Mr and Mrs&lt;/s&gt; - Yet another talker.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6241704089440477742-4656699813418303884?l=confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/feeds/4656699813418303884/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/2009/11/role-call.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6241704089440477742/posts/default/4656699813418303884'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6241704089440477742/posts/default/4656699813418303884'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/2009/11/role-call.html' title='Role Call!!'/><author><name>Married Lover</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07379164686571856070</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_198Iuo0-xII/S5HBGDv3OGI/AAAAAAAAAKE/yTPHcwWI8cw/S220/Sheet.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6241704089440477742.post-1092342371025036366</id><published>2009-11-14T20:01:00.012-05:00</published><updated>2009-11-30T00:56:42.265-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Medic J'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Mr. B'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Double D'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Countryboy'/><title type='text'>My Wild Ride.... the details</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;Where do I begin....  I guess the best way to describe my roller coaster week is to start at the beginning.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;Sunday&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;I signed on to MSN as usual and within minutes I get a message from Medic J.  I was shocked to hear from him since it had been two weeks.  I was about ready to cross him off my list!  He quickly asked if I was still interested, and of course I told him yes.  He said he had been looking at my pictures all day...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;!--[endif]--&gt;  &lt;div style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;  &lt;table align="left" vspace="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" hspace="0"&gt;  &lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;   &lt;td style="padding: 0in 9pt;" align="left" valign="top"&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; line-height: normal;"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:&amp;quot;;font-size:9;"  &gt;Medic:&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I want to be   inside you&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; line-height: normal;"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:&amp;quot;;font-size:9;"  &gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; line-height: normal;"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:&amp;quot;;font-size:9;"  &gt;Medic:&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I have thought   most of the day about wearing your wet hot pussy out...&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; line-height: normal;"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:&amp;quot;;font-size:9;"  &gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; line-height: normal;"&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:&amp;quot;;font-size:9;"  &gt;I&lt;span style=""&gt;    &lt;/span&gt;send him some of my newest “bare” pictures…&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:&amp;quot;;font-size:9;"  &gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; line-height: normal;"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:&amp;quot;;font-size:9;"  &gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; line-height: normal;"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:&amp;quot;;font-size:9;"  &gt;Medic: When are you going to wrap that around my hard cock&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:&amp;quot;;font-size:9;"  &gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; line-height: normal;"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:&amp;quot;;font-size:9;"  &gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; line-height: normal;"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:&amp;quot;;font-size:9;"  &gt;Me:&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Hmmmm.... I maybe   able to arrange something for Wednesday afternoon&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:&amp;quot;;font-size:9;"  &gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; line-height: normal;"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:&amp;quot;;font-size:9;"  &gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; line-height: normal;"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:&amp;quot;;font-size:9;"  &gt;Medic:&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I am rock hard   thinking about being inside you.&lt;span style=""&gt;    &lt;/span&gt;I want to feel your lips, your walls   surrounding it, your heat radiating on my hard cock....your wet juices all   over it...&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; line-height: normal;"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:&amp;quot;;font-size:9;"  &gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; line-height: normal;"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:&amp;quot;;font-size:9;"  &gt;Me:&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;just thinking about   having your hard cock inside me.... stretching my pussy lips wide&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:&amp;quot;;font-size:9;"  &gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; line-height: normal;"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:&amp;quot;;font-size:9;"  &gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; line-height: normal;"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:&amp;quot;;font-size:9;"  &gt;Medic:&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I want you now&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:&amp;quot;;font-size:9;"  &gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; line-height: normal;"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:&amp;quot;;font-size:9;"  &gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; line-height: normal;"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:&amp;quot;;font-size:9;"  &gt;Me:&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Believe me, I want   you too.... badly&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:&amp;quot;;font-size:9;"  &gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; line-height: normal;"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:&amp;quot;;font-size:9;"  &gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; line-height: normal;"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:&amp;quot;;font-size:9;"  &gt;Medic:   omg.....i want you.&lt;span style=""&gt;    &lt;/span&gt;I want to fill your pussy full of my rock hard cock.....&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; line-height: normal;"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:&amp;quot;;font-size:9;"  &gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; line-height: normal;"&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:&amp;quot;;font-size:9;"  &gt;We go back and forth exchange pics….   Him of his cock and me of my pussy&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; line-height: normal;"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:&amp;quot;;font-size:9;"  &gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; line-height: normal;"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:&amp;quot;;font-size:9;"  &gt;Medic:&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;bring your camera   tomorrow if you can come&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; line-height: normal;"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:&amp;quot;;font-size:9;"  &gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; line-height: normal;"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:&amp;quot;;font-size:9;"  &gt;Medic:&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I want to slide   my cick deep inside you, fuck your pussy soo deep.....hear you moan, feel   your pussy squeeze my cock, your hpis thrusting un to take me back inside   you...&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; line-height: normal;"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:&amp;quot;;font-size:9;"  &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; line-height: normal;"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:&amp;quot;;font-size:9;"  &gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; line-height: normal;"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:&amp;quot;;font-size:9;"  &gt;Me:&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;god.... you're   making me so horny wanting to feel you   thrusting into me&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; line-height: normal;"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:&amp;quot;;font-size:9;"  &gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; line-height: normal;"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:&amp;quot;;font-size:9;"  &gt;Medic:&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;ohhhh baby my   thick hard cock is going to make your pussy purr; the head is going to rub the inside of your pussy walls   soo good.....&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; line-height: normal;"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:&amp;quot;;font-size:9;"  &gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; line-height: normal;"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:&amp;quot;;font-size:9;"  &gt;Me:&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;mmmmmm.... just   think if we did doggie style then we'd feel that plus your balls slapping   against my clit with each hard thrust&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; line-height: normal;"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:&amp;quot;;font-size:9;"  &gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; line-height: normal;"&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:&amp;quot;;font-size:9;"  &gt;The conversation continues with   more pic swapping and a video or too….&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;/td&gt;  &lt;/tr&gt; &lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;That was my evening.  My day started with an email from Countryboy.  He sent me the farewell email on 11/2 but he began emailing me by that Friday.  Sundays email really shocked me because what I was reading was like a confession.  The way he composed his thoughts sounded like he had planned on fucking me then leaving me, but because he couldn't do that when he started having feelings for me.  Granted, I was happy by the fact he couldn't go through with it but highly pissed that that was he planned the entire time.  My reply was from the heart and completely bitchy... a complete and total shock for him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Monday&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;Monday was spent playing email tag with Countryboy over the email from Sunday.  He couldn't understand my anger until he reread what he had typed.  He apologized profusely.  That night he texted me on his way to work, and the conversation stayed strictly as friends.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;I had another chat session with Medic J Monday night.  The conversation was similar to Sunday's.... lots of talk of how things would be on Wednesday, and pic swapping.  By the end of the conversation we made plans for me to come over to his apartment and spent a few hours together.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Tuesday&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;Tuesday was spent chatting with Countryboy off and on.  I was a good girl and didn't say anything that would be considered tempting.  As much as I chatted with Countryboy, I didn't hear a word from Medic J.  I sent a few emails and offline messages to confirm our plans.... nothing in return.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Wednesday&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;I went all morning wondering if things with Medic J were still on.  I still hadn't heard anything from him so I never changed my plans.  I was half way to his apartment when I get an email telling me his girlfriend showed up.... Tuesday afternoon!!  I was livid.  In a 24 hour period he couldn't find two minutes to send me an email so I would not in advance.  I couldn't believe it.  I couldn't go back to work so I decided to do some retail therapy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;While I was shopping, I texted Double D to see what he was up to.   He and I chat daily even though it's been two months since we've done anything.  I told him that I had a clear and free evening, and was wondering if he was "working late".  He told me that he believe he would.  I stayed in the area until 5 o'clock when I new it would take me at least thirty minutes to get to his business.  Imagine my surprise when I jokingly texted "time to go home" shortly before 5:30 and get "yep, gotta get my kids".  WTF!  If he had no intention of meeting me why didn't he say so??  Less then five minutes later I drove by his business on my way home.... the place was as dark as night.  He has never closed up shop exactly at 5:30.... never!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I get home to an empty house and I'm jumping between pissed and extremely horny.  Medic J signed onto MSN at one point to apologize for canceling.  I wasn't interested in hearing about it and didn't care to hear "it's hard to get on the computer when she's here".  What?  Does she tie him to the bed?  Follow him around the apartment like a shadow?  I also heard from Mr. B.  His wife was going out of town for the weekend and he wanted to know if I had any free time.  Of course, I found this hilarious after the day I just had.  I told him him I had some time after work on Friday, and we made plans to meet at a half way point.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;The evening ended with another friend text session with Countryboy.  He told me he would be in my area Thursday morning for a job interview.  He would be getting out just as I would get my lunch so I asked if he'd like to meet for lunch... as friends.  He agreed and we picked a local resturant.  He told me he would text me if he got out of the interview early.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Thursday&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;Shortly before 12:30 Thursday afternoon I get a text from Countryboy saying he was out of the interview and on the way to the resturant.  I arrived at the resturant shortly after he did.  We got our food and spent the next hour talking.  After Wednesday, he was a confidence booster for me and I've always enjoyed spending time with Countryboy.  We ended our time together with an extra long hug.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Friday&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;About 3 o'clock I get a text from Mr. B telling me he can't make our meeting.  He didn't much sleep the night before and was tired.  Okay, so I got a three hour notice on that which I was grateful for but after everything else that happened earlier in the week it felt like a slap in the face. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;But guess who WAS there for me Friday.... yep, Countryboy.  Even though we've agreed to be friends only, it's nice to have communication.  Don't get me wrong.  I'm would jump at the chance to be with him if it was only once.  Countryboy is the only guy I've met through AM or AFF that hasn't disappeared without a trace or string me along until the time was convient for them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;So, I guess after this week Medic J and Double Dcan be considered on thin ice.  I'm tried of having the carrot dangled in front of me without a chance of getting it.  I set out to find a lover who could also be my friend.  I'm almost to the point of wiping the slate clean and starting over again.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6241704089440477742-1092342371025036366?l=confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/feeds/1092342371025036366/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/2009/11/my-wild-ride-details.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6241704089440477742/posts/default/1092342371025036366'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6241704089440477742/posts/default/1092342371025036366'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/2009/11/my-wild-ride-details.html' title='My Wild Ride.... the details'/><author><name>Married Lover</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07379164686571856070</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_198Iuo0-xII/S5HBGDv3OGI/AAAAAAAAAKE/yTPHcwWI8cw/S220/Sheet.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6241704089440477742.post-5923349119314613172</id><published>2009-11-13T19:26:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-11-13T19:30:52.374-05:00</updated><title type='text'>My Wild Ride</title><content type='html'>I wish I could say that this week has been like a Merry-Go-Round... up and down; round and round.  Unfortunately, it's been more like a roller coaster, twist/turns/loop-d-loops.  I'm still working through all that has happened since Monday, but hopefully I can adequately relay my Wild Ride sometime this weekend.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6241704089440477742-5923349119314613172?l=confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/feeds/5923349119314613172/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/2009/11/my-wild-ride.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6241704089440477742/posts/default/5923349119314613172'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6241704089440477742/posts/default/5923349119314613172'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/2009/11/my-wild-ride.html' title='My Wild Ride'/><author><name>Married Lover</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07379164686571856070</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_198Iuo0-xII/S5HBGDv3OGI/AAAAAAAAAKE/yTPHcwWI8cw/S220/Sheet.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6241704089440477742.post-1076326988925293063</id><published>2009-11-04T21:56:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-11-04T22:40:02.509-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Countryboy'/><title type='text'>A Tender Goodbye</title><content type='html'>I got an email from Countryboy today that explains his feelings and why he decided to end things.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Where to began? I guess I should start with thank you for many reasons. First of all for being so understanding. I want you know that I was feeling the same way for you and to honest it scared the hell out of me. I was torn between being happy and being a responsible father. Monday right after ending our chat things begun to happen that made me realize that I, no matter how much I wanted to, could not take a chance on hurting my children. I spent that night looking at my  phone wanting to text you just to say hi and that I was sorry but I knew as soon as I did my feeling and desires would over take my action. I am having a hard enough  time setting here e-mailing you know you are only a message away. I want to thank you for making me feel so wonderful. In just those few weeks together you made me happier then I have been in a long time. I only hope that I made you happy too during our time together. I just read your email it and wanted you also know that I don't look down on you at for looking for a friend. You deserve it and so much more. If you ever need to drop your worries on someone else I will always be hear to listen.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I actually found myself tearing up after reading this.  In the back of my mind, I always knew that things may not work out with him because he was so shy and nervous about the whole thing.  It may have only been a few weeks, but I don't think I'll ever forget him.  And there will be a small piece of my heart that will be his...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6241704089440477742-1076326988925293063?l=confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/feeds/1076326988925293063/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/2009/11/tender-goodby.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6241704089440477742/posts/default/1076326988925293063'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6241704089440477742/posts/default/1076326988925293063'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/2009/11/tender-goodby.html' title='A Tender Goodbye'/><author><name>Married Lover</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07379164686571856070</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_198Iuo0-xII/S5HBGDv3OGI/AAAAAAAAAKE/yTPHcwWI8cw/S220/Sheet.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6241704089440477742.post-1607297472975284211</id><published>2009-11-02T20:39:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-11-04T21:56:22.124-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Countryboy'/><title type='text'>History Repeats Itself</title><content type='html'>The day was going so well.  Countryboy was opening up and sending me pictures throughout the day, and then it all came to a hault.  He called me tonight to tell me he can't string me along any longer.  He thought he could go through with an affair but he doesn't feel that he can.  He still wants to be friends which I don't have a problem with.  I'm just surprised at how I'm feeling right now.  He was the first one who I had ever felt anything beyond friendship or lust for.  I didn't realize it until he called to end things.  I'm going to miss our nightly texts and the teasing.  I'm especially going to miss our lunches.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6241704089440477742-1607297472975284211?l=confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/feeds/1607297472975284211/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/2009/11/history-repeats-itself.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6241704089440477742/posts/default/1607297472975284211'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6241704089440477742/posts/default/1607297472975284211'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/2009/11/history-repeats-itself.html' title='History Repeats Itself'/><author><name>Married Lover</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07379164686571856070</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_198Iuo0-xII/S5HBGDv3OGI/AAAAAAAAAKE/yTPHcwWI8cw/S220/Sheet.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6241704089440477742.post-3454761582583437629</id><published>2009-10-29T22:12:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2010-01-18T16:02:05.782-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='IT J'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Neighbor C'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Medic J'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Mr. B'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Mr. L'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Double D'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Fireman C'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Countryboy'/><title type='text'>Falling Off the Radar</title><content type='html'>Okay, it seems that I need to keep a weekly tally on The Guys.  In just over a week several of them of dropped off the radar.  So, let's do a Head Count...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Countryboy &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.freeclipartnow.com/d/40770-1/checkmark-Bold-Brush-Black.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 28px; height: 24px;" src="http://www.freeclipartnow.com/d/40770-1/checkmark-Bold-Brush-Black.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Double D &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.freeclipartnow.com/d/40770-1/checkmark-Bold-Brush-Black.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 28px; height: 24px;" src="http://www.freeclipartnow.com/d/40770-1/checkmark-Bold-Brush-Black.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Neighbor C &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.freeclipartnow.com/d/40770-1/checkmark-Bold-Brush-Black.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 28px; height: 24px;" src="http://www.freeclipartnow.com/d/40770-1/checkmark-Bold-Brush-Black.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Medic J &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.freeclipartnow.com/d/40770-1/checkmark-Bold-Brush-Black.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 28px; height: 24px;" src="http://www.freeclipartnow.com/d/40770-1/checkmark-Bold-Brush-Black.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mr. B &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.freeclipartnow.com/d/40770-1/checkmark-Bold-Brush-Black.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 28px; height: 24px;" src="http://www.freeclipartnow.com/d/40770-1/checkmark-Bold-Brush-Black.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;s&gt;Mr. L &lt;/s&gt; - This guy has proven to be more then I can handle.  Between the endless phone calls and invitations for breakfast, lunch, and dinner, I'm putting Mr. L back in his cage.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;s&gt;IT J&lt;/s&gt; - Tomorrow will be two weeks since our lunchtime encounter.  I still have yet to hear anything from him.  Is it proper affair etiquette to call someone a "rat bastard" on AFF?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;s&gt;Mr. Gray&lt;/s&gt; The chats were cute but nothing ever came of them.  Besides, he's over an hour drive from me and it's hard to be discreet when you're having to make an excuse to be that far from home... even to meet half way.&lt;br /&gt;Mr &lt;s&gt;and Mrs.&lt;/s&gt; - The more I talk with Mr the more I believe that Mrs has no idea.  All of our conversations deal with him and I.  Mrs isn't mentioned as being part of the game. Hmmmm... that's a strike against him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;s&gt;&lt;/s&gt;&lt;s&gt;Policeman J&lt;/s&gt; - I haven't heard from J is over a week.  He's dropped off the radar completely, too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;s&gt;Tech Guy&lt;/s&gt; - He's a sweet guy but he doesn't even try to start anything when we chat.  Looks like I just made another new friend. :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6241704089440477742-3454761582583437629?l=confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/feeds/3454761582583437629/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/2009/10/falling-off-radar.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6241704089440477742/posts/default/3454761582583437629'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6241704089440477742/posts/default/3454761582583437629'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/2009/10/falling-off-radar.html' title='Falling Off the Radar'/><author><name>Married Lover</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07379164686571856070</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_198Iuo0-xII/S5HBGDv3OGI/AAAAAAAAAKE/yTPHcwWI8cw/S220/Sheet.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6241704089440477742.post-1678737090541354797</id><published>2009-10-29T21:15:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-10-29T21:43:20.303-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Double D'/><title type='text'>Pleasantly Surprised</title><content type='html'>I haven't mentioned Double D in a good while, but we still talk/chat/text every day.  Things have cooled down dramatically between us.  Between his work/family, and my own craziness there never seemed a good time for us to get together.  We have met for a few minutes after work occasionally, but that's been it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today D surprised me while we were texting.  The conversation was like what we always talk about... what's going on in our lives.  The topics ranged from an upcoming concert he'd bought tickets for, complaining about how much property taxes are in our area, and then the local government.  I told D that he should run for an office... as a joke of course.  D would make an interesting politician.  He speaks his mind and calls things like they are.  I was completely shocked when he sent this, "&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;I couldn't do office anyway bc everyone would look at my life and I would have to give you up and that's not happening&lt;/span&gt;" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I couldn't believe it!!! It's been weeks since he's said anything about our relationship being more then a simple friendship.  Honestly, I thought that's what we had journeyed into.  I guess I should have known he was going back to the way we were when he mentioned finding pics and videos on his computer Tuesday.  Apparently, he found pics/videos of him and his girlfriend that he thought he'd deleted.  I gave him hell for not being more careful since he is back with his wife now.  He admitted to being shocked they were still there, and told me he was deleting them.  Then in the next breath he said he'd need to see about making videos with someone new.  D knows I've made videos of myself solo... one per his request.  He was shocked when I admited to never making a video with a partner.  Actually, he's response was "&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;that's interesting&lt;/span&gt;".  I have no idea what that means and knowing D it can't be good.  Now I just wonder how long before something happens.  :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6241704089440477742-1678737090541354797?l=confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/feeds/1678737090541354797/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/2009/10/pleasantly-surprised.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6241704089440477742/posts/default/1678737090541354797'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6241704089440477742/posts/default/1678737090541354797'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/2009/10/pleasantly-surprised.html' title='Pleasantly Surprised'/><author><name>Married Lover</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07379164686571856070</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_198Iuo0-xII/S5HBGDv3OGI/AAAAAAAAAKE/yTPHcwWI8cw/S220/Sheet.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6241704089440477742.post-4386420299501021894</id><published>2009-10-28T23:58:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2009-10-29T21:54:25.214-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Countryboy'/><title type='text'>It pays to be patient</title><content type='html'>Today was my second lunch with &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Countryboy&lt;/span&gt;.  I was late leaving work and thought for sure I would be late.  Luckily, I made it to the cafe on time but he wasn't there.  I grabbed the same booth from last week and began my wait.  Thirty minutes later he had not shown up and there wasn't a text message explaining why.  I decided to order something to eat, and see what happened.  Fifteen minutes later the text message came in... he'd overslept!!  Since he works third shift, I figured that's what the case was and I had decided to let him  be.  Boy was I glad when he changed my mind!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He managed to surprise me when he got to the cafe.   I thought he'd sit down across from me and smile.  Far from it... he came over to my side of the booth and gave me a nice "Hello" kiss.  I was shocked! (And extremely happy!!)  After he sat down he reached for my hands and began caressing them.  We spent the next forty-five minutes talking; getting to know each other more... and are hands never separated.  Before long it was time for me to go back to work and for him to go back to his world.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Like last week, he walked me to my SUV.  However, today he didn't wait or ask for a kiss.  I'd just turned around from opening the driver's door when he reached for me to give me a kiss.  It wasn't a timid kiss.  He knew exactly what he wanted this time!  Not only that... his hands never stopped caressing me in some way.  When we weren't kissing, he would hold my hand and caress the back of my hand with his thumb.  Or he's sneak his fingers under my blouse and gently touch my side.  Now, when we were kissing those hands of his were caressing my breasts or squeezing my ass.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At one point, we were kissing and holding hands.  He took my right hand and slowly guided it to his cock which was straining against his jeans.  As I gently caressed him, he moaned into my mouth.  Hearing a man moan in pleasure from something I've done has always been a big turn on for me.  Hearing &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Countryboy&lt;/span&gt; moan in pleasure almost made me cum!  We had to stop before long because the Real World was calling.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He did ask when I'll have a Friday off from work.  I told him that I was already thinking of using a "mental health" day in the next few weeks.  That's when he looked at me with those dark brown eyes and asked me if I'd like to spend a Friday with him.  I never hesitated in telling him yes.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6241704089440477742-4386420299501021894?l=confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/feeds/4386420299501021894/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/2009/10/it-pays-to-be-patient.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6241704089440477742/posts/default/4386420299501021894'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6241704089440477742/posts/default/4386420299501021894'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/2009/10/it-pays-to-be-patient.html' title='It pays to be patient'/><author><name>Married Lover</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07379164686571856070</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_198Iuo0-xII/S5HBGDv3OGI/AAAAAAAAAKE/yTPHcwWI8cw/S220/Sheet.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6241704089440477742.post-138843582061708390</id><published>2009-10-27T09:50:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-10-27T10:43:47.694-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Countryboy'/><title type='text'>Marathon Texting</title><content type='html'>Well, I thought I would spend the weekend wondering if Countryboy would text me Sunday night.  I didn't have to wait that long!  I got a great surprise Friday afternoon when he texted me while I was out shopping.  He'd run to the store and wanted to say "Hi".  I was so happy to hear from him that I'm sure I had a goofy smile on my face.  The conversation shortly ended, and I went back to waiting for Sunday night.  He surprised me again Saturday morning with more text messages.  Since I was at work, he called and left a voice mail on my cell.  It was nice to hear his voice... how shy and timid he sounds yet excited at the same time.  Sunday night finally arrived and we spent three hours texting and flirting.  In the wee hours of the morning, he called and we talked for awhile.  I enjoy listening to him because he is shy about what he says but I can hear his excitement of what may happen. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last night, was yet another texting marathon.  The conversation started out when the usual "How was your day?" and went into the flirting and a bit more which I was very happy about.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Him: U warm enough&lt;br /&gt;Me: Not really. The house is cold tonight&lt;br /&gt;Him: Anything I can do to help u warm up wink wink&lt;br /&gt;Me: Hmmmmm. Winks work pretty good to start with smile n wink&lt;br /&gt;Him: Sometime a smile says too much&lt;br /&gt;Me: Oh? Like what?&lt;br /&gt;Him: Like the smile you kept giving me last thurs&lt;br /&gt;Me: An what did that smile say?&lt;br /&gt;Him: I was thinking that it was saying u wish u was off work n had more time to get to know me but what did it really say&lt;br /&gt;Me:Actually that's exactly what I wished for last wk.  That and I've discovered that I'm a fan of extremely dark eyes.&lt;br /&gt;Him: I had a hard time not starring at your mouth n lips&lt;br /&gt;Me: Ah so that's why you'd duck your head and concentrate eating your food&lt;br /&gt;Him: Yeah sorry I couldn't handle getting any more turned on&lt;br /&gt;Me: Lol and you didn't notice how much I was looking around the cafe?  I was afraid to look at you too long&lt;br /&gt;Him: So what fantasy do you have have not been filled?&lt;br /&gt;Me: To be honest I've never been one to have fantasies.&lt;br /&gt;Him: I have passing thoughts but no real fantasies&lt;br /&gt;Me: What kind of passing thoughts?&lt;br /&gt;Him: Do you really want to know or are u just flirting?&lt;br /&gt;Me: Both but I'd really like to know&lt;br /&gt;Him: Remember u asked I can't get the thought of your mouth and me being round one.  That has kept me more excited then I've been in years&lt;br /&gt;Me: Wow! that got the room warm and my imagination going.  I must confess that the pic you sent the other night got me thinking of my fav foreplay act&lt;br /&gt;Him: I think I know what that might be and I hat that I'm at work&lt;br /&gt;Me: Yeah I think I'll shut up for now and go to bed.  have a nice night  Smile n wink&lt;br /&gt;Him: Thank you I should have changed the subject earlier lol smile n wink sleep tight&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;We're meeting for lunch tomorrow.  We'll have at least two hours to talk, flirt, and whatever may happen. :)&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6241704089440477742-138843582061708390?l=confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/feeds/138843582061708390/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/2009/10/marathon-texting.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6241704089440477742/posts/default/138843582061708390'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6241704089440477742/posts/default/138843582061708390'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/2009/10/marathon-texting.html' title='Marathon Texting'/><author><name>Married Lover</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07379164686571856070</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_198Iuo0-xII/S5HBGDv3OGI/AAAAAAAAAKE/yTPHcwWI8cw/S220/Sheet.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6241704089440477742.post-6680874378845152035</id><published>2009-10-22T23:02:00.005-04:00</published><updated>2009-10-23T21:48:26.397-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Medic J'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Countryboy'/><title type='text'>Twice in one day</title><content type='html'>Yesterday was a wonderful day for me!  I was able to meet Countryboy AND Medic J...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Countryboy and  I met for lunch at a local cafe.  I had a great time because we actually talked.  Of course, the first few minutes were fun as hell.  I arrived at the cafe a few minutes early and got a booth for us.  Somehow, we missed each other when he came in the door.  A few minutes later I got "Are you here" on my phone.  I replied back with a yes.  What makes the exchange of text messages is the fact that there was a guy at the bar also texting on his phone at the same time.  Both Countryboy and I thought the guy was each other.  I thought the guy was Countryboy and Countryboy thought he'd been set up.  Well, Countryboy found me finally and was happy to realize that I was real. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We spent over an hour talking and getting to know each other.  I tried not to stare at him but he has the most amazing chocolate brown eyes.  I've always been attracted to men with light-colored eyes but not this time.  Even now... a day later I keep picturing those dark eyes.  *sigh*  Of course, he was extremely nervous and shy.  But he made a tremendous effort to ask me questions about me as a person rather then what type of sex I like.  I could have stayed there talking with him for the entire afternoon but I needed to get back to work.  He walked me to my car where we talked for a few minutes more. Just when I thought nothing would happen he asked for a hug.  His arms felt so good around me, and we fit together very well.  When we pulled back from each other, he kissed me softly on the my lips.  He is a very good kisser!!!  After the kiss ended, we just looked at each other and smiled.  I turned to get into my car when he pulled me back for another kiss.  We had to stop or we wouldn't stop.  As he walked away it took all my will power not to call him back.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After work, I met with Medic J as he was getting off work.  He was late getting to our meeting and I had almost given up on him.  I'm glad I didn't.  He stayed in his SUV and I stayed in my car.... and we talked.  The conversation wasn't as in depth as it had been with Countryboy.  But then I've shared videos and pictures with Medic J that Countryboy doesn't know about.  Most of the time was spent saying "Whatcha thinking?" to each other.  By the end, I was standing next to the driver's window of his SUV.  He was whispering the question to me and I finally answered with "I'm thinking about a kiss".  I leaned through the window and gave him a kiss.  Medic J gets two thumbs up for his kisses!!  I'm not sure when he and I will be able to get together again but I'm keeping my fingers crossed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Late last night...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got a text from Countryboy.  He had the night off but was pretending to be at work.  Actually, he had taken the night off in the hopes we could meet.  I so wanted to go to him but there was no way.  So, we spent three hours texting each other.  We even exchanged some pictures which was extremely fun.  I hate that I have to wait until Sunday night before I can talk with him again.  Be sure he'll be on my mind over the next two days... especially his eyes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_198Iuo0-xII/SuJcg4r0x8I/AAAAAAAAAE8/O2QCPFm1J1I/s1600-h/KeanuReeves.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 134px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_198Iuo0-xII/SuJcg4r0x8I/AAAAAAAAAE8/O2QCPFm1J1I/s320/KeanuReeves.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5395977023585044418" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Obviously, these aren't his eyes but you can believe that they're this dark and intense.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6241704089440477742-6680874378845152035?l=confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/feeds/6680874378845152035/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/2009/10/twice-in-one-day.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6241704089440477742/posts/default/6680874378845152035'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6241704089440477742/posts/default/6680874378845152035'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/2009/10/twice-in-one-day.html' title='Twice in one day'/><author><name>Married Lover</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07379164686571856070</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_198Iuo0-xII/S5HBGDv3OGI/AAAAAAAAAKE/yTPHcwWI8cw/S220/Sheet.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_198Iuo0-xII/SuJcg4r0x8I/AAAAAAAAAE8/O2QCPFm1J1I/s72-c/KeanuReeves.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6241704089440477742.post-6978245489079922595</id><published>2009-10-21T13:18:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-10-21T23:32:03.132-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Countryboy'/><title type='text'>Countryboy = Shy</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Countryboy&lt;/span&gt; and I have been &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;texting&lt;/span&gt; each other for the last three days.  He only asked that I not text him first, which is a no &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;brainer&lt;/span&gt; for me.  I cannot believe how sweet and innocent this guy comes across.  He's just so cute sometimes!!  We have plans to meet for lunch tomorrow... and only lunch.  He admitted in a text that he's nervous about meeting and I told him I was nervous as well.  I'm amazed that I am because this will be my 7&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt; "meet-n-greet".  He described it as a "blind date n cloak n dagger all in 1".  &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;LOL&lt;/span&gt;... he's right!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He works third shift so we mostly text while he's at work.  Last night part of our conversation went like this:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Me: Staying warm tonight?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Him: Yea its warm in here 2night y us looking 2 heat things up&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Me: &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Bc&lt;/span&gt; I'm a southern bell... I like heating things up&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Him: U still on 4 lunch&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Me: Sure am. U?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Him: Yea a bit nervous&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Me: So am I&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Him: So how u gonna know it me&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Me: Good question. How will you know me too&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Him: &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;Hmm&lt;/span&gt; just go in topless&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Me: Yeah sure no... I don't think so! You must really be warming up&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Him: The phone is on vibrate&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Me: &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;Lol&lt;/span&gt; and which pocket do you have it in?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Him: Left front&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Me: That's a good place to help stay awake and warm up&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Him: N other things&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Him: Wish u could stay up all night w me&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;Countryboy&lt;/span&gt; and Mr. S share the same name.  Actually, they share more then a first name... both bring a smile to my face just from a simple hello text.  Not many others have managed to do that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Until tomorrow...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6241704089440477742-6978245489079922595?l=confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/feeds/6978245489079922595/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/2009/10/countryboy-shy.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6241704089440477742/posts/default/6978245489079922595'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6241704089440477742/posts/default/6978245489079922595'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/2009/10/countryboy-shy.html' title='Countryboy = Shy'/><author><name>Married Lover</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07379164686571856070</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_198Iuo0-xII/S5HBGDv3OGI/AAAAAAAAAKE/yTPHcwWI8cw/S220/Sheet.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6241704089440477742.post-908433986928801086</id><published>2009-10-19T23:28:00.005-04:00</published><updated>2009-10-21T07:49:37.531-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='IT J'/><title type='text'>Lunch Date</title><content type='html'>As I mentioned in my previous IT J is the only man from AFF that I've met in person.  Last Monday, we met in a public place to say hello and get a better idea about each other.  Things went well.  He's funny, handsome, and does not look like he he would ever have an affair.  Of course, that's a big appeal for me. ;-)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We made plans to meet Wednesday afternoon after work.  I thought it was strange that I never heard from him on IM during the day.  But, I went to our destination and I waited.  J never showed.  I didn't hear from him until Thursday.  He told me he was in the state capital and could not contact me the day before.  I took it all with a grain of salt.  We made plans to meet on Friday during lunch.  Of course, we had no intention of eating food.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Noon on Friday arrives, and I headed to our meeting place.  J sent me text messages on his progress, lol.  Well, I was waiting for him in the back of my suv without my panties and my skirt up.  Lunch started out with me giving him a nice long blow job.  He said that he hadn't had one in 3-4 months.  I don't doubt it with the way he reacted as I took him into my mouth.  Either that or he's extremely sensitive.  After some time, we got around to fucking.  It was nice but I wouldn't call it the best I've ever had.  The rest of the time went from blow job to fucking to blow job.  I will say this for J... he has strong will power.  I never thought that man would cum!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When he finally did, we both only had five minutes to get back to our jobs.  He, of course, couldn't wait to jump out the door and drive off.  I on the other hand was so sweety that I almost didn't go back to work.  Thank goodness, I had removed my clothes and there was a towel in the back of the suv!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That all happened on Friday... I haven't heard a word from him since.  I've noticed that he has logged into AFF so he's not without a computer.  I'll see if I have any contact with him tomorrow.  If not, then there goes another one.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6241704089440477742-908433986928801086?l=confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/feeds/908433986928801086/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/2009/10/lunch-date.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6241704089440477742/posts/default/908433986928801086'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6241704089440477742/posts/default/908433986928801086'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/2009/10/lunch-date.html' title='Lunch Date'/><author><name>Married Lover</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07379164686571856070</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_198Iuo0-xII/S5HBGDv3OGI/AAAAAAAAAKE/yTPHcwWI8cw/S220/Sheet.JPG'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6241704089440477742.post-3761044723263624666</id><published>2009-10-19T13:50:00.005-04:00</published><updated>2010-01-18T15:46:28.179-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='IT J'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Mr. Gray'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Neighbor C'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Medic J'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='AFF'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Mr and Mrs'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Tech Guy'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Mr. L'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Policeman J'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Fireman C'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Countryboy'/><title type='text'>So Many Men... So Little Time</title><content type='html'>Shortly after my last posting, I started using AFF.  AM was the same guys over and over again, so a change was in order.  I cannot believe how many emails, flirts, and times my profile has been added to someone elses hotlist!!  And I don't even have a picture up on my profile!!!  I'll go into more detail about each of the guys who are still around from AFF later on, but for now here's a list of the men I have chatted, texted, emailed, and met from AFF.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Fireman C&lt;/strong&gt; - We've texted and emailed each other...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Mr. L&lt;/strong&gt; - He has been forward since the very beginning.  He gave me his number in nothing flat, and invited me to his house for lunch the day after we started chatting.  I didn't go but we still talk occassionally.  He's on vacation right now so we'll see what happens when he comes back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Policeman J&lt;/strong&gt; - Same thing as Fireman C... nothing really there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Medic J&lt;/strong&gt; - J and I had plans to meet today but those had to be canceled.  Hopefully, he and I can get together Thursday for a quick hello as he's getting off work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Neighbor C&lt;/strong&gt; - There is only one way to describe C... he's a horn dog!!  I love chatting with him because he's as sexaul as I am.  We've yet to met but that's just because of timing.  The man only lives 1/2 a mile from me!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;IT J&lt;/strong&gt; - IT J is so far the only man from AFF that I have actually met.  There was the first met for hellos and then a lunch date which lasted 45 minutes.  More to come on that one...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Countryboy&lt;/strong&gt; - This guy is so sweet and kind.  He's never done anything like AFF or talking with other women, and I can tell.  He's not trying to get me in bed... he's actually wanting to take me to a haunted trail for a good scare.  :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Mr. Gray&lt;/strong&gt; - He and I only started chatting last night.  So far, we're two peas in a pod.  Maybe it's a good thing he's not local.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Tech Guy&lt;/strong&gt; - Tech Guy is younger and single.  He's admitted that he's just looking for someone who isn't going to be planning a wedding after one date.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Mr and Mrs&lt;/strong&gt; - Yes, I've met a couple on AFF.  So far I've only chatted with the husband.  I'm cautious about whether the wife is actually involved.  We'll have to see how things go.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6241704089440477742-3761044723263624666?l=confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/feeds/3761044723263624666/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/2009/10/so-many-men-so-little-time.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6241704089440477742/posts/default/3761044723263624666'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6241704089440477742/posts/default/3761044723263624666'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/2009/10/so-many-men-so-little-time.html' title='So Many Men... So Little Time'/><author><name>Married Lover</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07379164686571856070</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_198Iuo0-xII/S5HBGDv3OGI/AAAAAAAAAKE/yTPHcwWI8cw/S220/Sheet.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6241704089440477742.post-7761187567389939951</id><published>2009-09-25T20:55:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-09-25T21:46:03.853-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Mr. B'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Double D'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Ashley Madison'/><title type='text'>Nice Surprise</title><content type='html'>It's amazing what can happen in a weeks time...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;D is still D.  We talk every day and have met a few times over the past week.  Things have not gone any further then last week.  I truly like talking with D and cannot image how my day would be without his smart ass remarks.  I stopped by work yesterday to pick something up.  We stood out in the parking lot for thirty minutes and talked.  There we were out for any of my coworkers to see us (and some did!), and I had the strongest urge to kiss him.  I'm finding myself caring for D more and more.  I can tell that sex isn't want he needs right now, so I'm happy just being a friend he can depend on.  I know his potential as a fuck buddy so I'm just waiting for that part of the relationship to get back into full swing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had to attend a meeting in the state capital today, and was able to meet with B.  It's funny actually.  We do live in separate counties (40 minutes from each other), and we had to drive an hour and half away to meet for an hour.  In truth, B is very paranoid about meetings with his lady friends.  We went over to one of his friends' house (she's out of town), and had a nice meeting.  I've never been nervous with B like I have been with D, so it was actually cute to see B nervous.  I thought we would actually get a chance to fuck but all he had time for was a blow job.  He did return the favor, but it wasn't what I was wanting or needing.    I hate to admit this but I haven't been fuck since Teacher J and that was a month ago. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have made a few new friends on Ashley Madison.  Chatting and emails is as far as things have gone with these guys.  We'll see what happens...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6241704089440477742-7761187567389939951?l=confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/feeds/7761187567389939951/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/2009/09/nice-surprise.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6241704089440477742/posts/default/7761187567389939951'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6241704089440477742/posts/default/7761187567389939951'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/2009/09/nice-surprise.html' title='Nice Surprise'/><author><name>Married Lover</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07379164686571856070</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_198Iuo0-xII/S5HBGDv3OGI/AAAAAAAAAKE/yTPHcwWI8cw/S220/Sheet.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6241704089440477742.post-1699621049311624665</id><published>2009-09-16T23:36:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-09-16T23:59:43.296-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Mr. J'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Mr. B'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Double D'/><title type='text'>Time Flies By!</title><content type='html'>I cannot believe that it's been two weeks since my last post.  Things have been extremely hectic between work, home, and my guys.  Yes, I said guys.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Things with D have been a roller coaster.  We've met a few times but things go no farther then foreplay.  He has admitted that there are a lot of issues he's dealing with at the moment.  Frankly, I don't think he knows exactly what he wants.  He's never had an affair before... maybe he's dealing with a guilty conscious.  He's a good friend so I'll stick with him for awhile to see where things go.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;B is busting to get together for more then just lunch.  Hopefully, things can be arranged for next week.  Of all of the guys I've talked with, fooled around with, and fucked... B is the only one who has a place in my heart.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;J contacted me today after three weeks of silence.  It didn't take us long to make arrangements to meet tomorrow for "lunch".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At this point, I'm saying to hell with D's "only one" policy.  Until he can commit to whatever we have going I'm going to have some fun.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6241704089440477742-1699621049311624665?l=confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/feeds/1699621049311624665/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/2009/09/time-flies-by.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6241704089440477742/posts/default/1699621049311624665'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6241704089440477742/posts/default/1699621049311624665'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/2009/09/time-flies-by.html' title='Time Flies By!'/><author><name>Married Lover</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07379164686571856070</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_198Iuo0-xII/S5HBGDv3OGI/AAAAAAAAAKE/yTPHcwWI8cw/S220/Sheet.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6241704089440477742.post-5088212133471400968</id><published>2009-09-02T00:13:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-09-02T00:30:12.061-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Double D'/><title type='text'>Still Going Steady</title><content type='html'>D and I are still going strong...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Friday evening was pretty interesting.  Just as I was leaving to meet him at his shop, he sent me a message about having an appointment at 5:45.  I was disappointed and started to wonder if I was having deja vue.  Rather then turn around and go home I went on to wait on husband.  Shortly after 6pm D sent me a text saying he was done with his appointment.  He wanted to know if I could still meet him.  I said sure and drove back to his shop.  That was the longest short drive in my life!  By the time I got there I had thirty minutes before husband got off work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We didn't immediately make any moves towards each other.  We just stood in the lobby talking.  He laughed at one point and explained he had his arms crossed so he didn't reach for anything.  I laughed in turn and told him that was why my hands were in my back pockets.  Before I could blink, he was standing in front of me and whispered "where do you want to put them".  I put my arms around his neck and we started kissing.  We moved into his office where I gave him some special attention.  He returned the favor like a true gentleman.  I will say one thing about D... his fingers are related to the Energizer Bunny!  I have never felt anything like that from human hands before.  By the time we finished, it was 7pm and I was late picking up Husband.  I didn't give a damn!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Since Friday, D and I have emailed/texted each other every day.  Monday and Tuesday.... for the entire day.  We have plans to meet this afternoon.  Hopefully, we can have some real fun.  I so much want to be fucked by this man.  Just thinking about him and what it'll be like makes me wet in my panties.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6241704089440477742-5088212133471400968?l=confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/feeds/5088212133471400968/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/2009/09/still-going-steady.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6241704089440477742/posts/default/5088212133471400968'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6241704089440477742/posts/default/5088212133471400968'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/2009/09/still-going-steady.html' title='Still Going Steady'/><author><name>Married Lover</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07379164686571856070</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_198Iuo0-xII/S5HBGDv3OGI/AAAAAAAAAKE/yTPHcwWI8cw/S220/Sheet.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6241704089440477742.post-8441035060738046543</id><published>2009-08-28T15:14:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-08-28T15:45:55.369-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Double D'/><title type='text'>Double D</title><content type='html'>I finally got to meet the new B (aka Double D).  We met in a very public place and ended up talking for two hours.  Of course, the last thirty minutes was spending giving each other pleasure.  D was so funny.  He didn't stop for protection because he knew that I was still upset about last week with Teacher J.  It's a good think we didn't have protection because we could have easily gotten into that back seat today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I thought D was being cocky when he told me that I wouldn't look for other guys because no one could fill his shoes.  After meeting him today I don't think he's being cocky at all.  We actually talked this afternoon rather then jump into the whole "we don't have much time; let's get this going" deal I've had in the past.  We talked about his work; my work... our likes and dislikes. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It finally got to the point when it was either we continue talking, go back to what we were doing, or have a little fun.  He asked me if I was going to go home wet from our meeting.  I told him yes and he replied with "how will I know?".  I told him that I would send him a picture when I got home.  That didn't seem to satisfy him and he continued to makes jokes in order to loosen me up.  I finally just unsnapped my jeans right there in the front seat of my car.  He leaned across the console to place his hand into my panties.  As he fingered my clit, we kissed.  I'll give him kudos for his kisses.  They were just right... not too aggressive nor weak.  I knew I wouldn't last long since I had been wet from the excitement of meeting him.  I so wanted to return the favor and he just sat in the passenger seat to allow me access.  I wasn't able to give him the full treatment I wanted to but I stroked him for a good amount of time, and occasionally took him into my mouth.  He told me how he would love from me to sit on him and take his cock deep into my pussy.  He's very detailed orientated so he was descriptive in how it would be. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We ended up having to say good bye.  He's going to try to get his business partner to leave work early today.  If that's the case then he and I can have another hour together this afternoon before I have to pick up the husband from work.  Here's to hoping!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6241704089440477742-8441035060738046543?l=confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/feeds/8441035060738046543/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/2009/08/double-d.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6241704089440477742/posts/default/8441035060738046543'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6241704089440477742/posts/default/8441035060738046543'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/2009/08/double-d.html' title='Double D'/><author><name>Married Lover</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07379164686571856070</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_198Iuo0-xII/S5HBGDv3OGI/AAAAAAAAAKE/yTPHcwWI8cw/S220/Sheet.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6241704089440477742.post-468388668919685118</id><published>2009-08-27T22:47:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2009-08-28T00:17:05.546-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Teacher J'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Mr. J'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Mr. B'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Double D'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Ashley Madison'/><title type='text'>A Sweet Talker</title><content type='html'>Well, I was not a happy camper yesterday afternoon. J canceled on me at the last minute... Teacher J sends a vague email, which I've yet to hear any more. Even my morning with B was placed on hold (and has since been canceled). Things could not have gotten worse!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And they didn't... I was eating lunch when I got an AM email on my phone. It was from a local guy wanting to talk. Rather then playing email tag I gave him my IM handle. He immediately signed in and we started talking. In fact we chatting for the rest of the day until we got off work. His name starts with a B but I think about his business' name... Double D.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First thing this morning there was an email from D, and I couldn't help but smile. In fact we chatted for over nine hours today alone! I've never talked with someone that long before, and I enjoyed every minute of it. He wants exclusivity and even after 24 hours I'm thinking of giving it to him. He and I are planning to meet tomorrow at some time. Even though I've meet other men without being nervous, I'm nervous about meeting D. We'll have to see how things go tomorrow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will say one thing for D... he's got a great imagination and writing skill. We started a storyline today and I had to stop because his details were getting me so wet!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I slide my hand up while moving my mouth down your stomach and I find a wet spot on the outside of your white panties, I touch you through them and you quiver then I grab the top edge with my teeth and the back with my other hand and pull them down exposing you comepletly I touch your wet spot with my right hand then move my mouth back up to your soft wet palette to touch you with my tongue. I slide my tongue over your smoth shaven wet spot and you feel me shake with anticipation, I start stroking you softly in time with fingers and tongue until I feel you tense up and I pull my tongue deep into you and feel you clamp down on it and come for the first time on my face&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6241704089440477742-468388668919685118?l=confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/feeds/468388668919685118/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/2009/08/sweet-talker.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6241704089440477742/posts/default/468388668919685118'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6241704089440477742/posts/default/468388668919685118'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/2009/08/sweet-talker.html' title='A Sweet Talker'/><author><name>Married Lover</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07379164686571856070</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_198Iuo0-xII/S5HBGDv3OGI/AAAAAAAAAKE/yTPHcwWI8cw/S220/Sheet.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6241704089440477742.post-6329108599874317591</id><published>2009-08-26T11:13:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-08-26T11:23:08.256-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Teacher J'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Mr. J'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Mr. B'/><title type='text'>Just my luck</title><content type='html'>I should have known that things were happening too easily for me. It doesn't look like I'll be meeting up with B on Friday. His meeting is to early in the afternoon to allow any time for pleasure fun. I got an email from J this morning canceling our "lunch".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Very upset and can't share details just yet, but things aren't going to work out for lunch today. I'll talk to you in a bit and fill you in. I'm so sorry.... I'm really freakin' horny!!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Two hours later and I'm still waiting for an explanation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I sent a short email to Teacher J this morning asking him how the first day of school was yesterday.  I got this reply...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;My life has changed considerably. I went from having time to reflect to no time to breath. I'll try to write more later.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Can this day not get any worse???  I'm pretty sure that Teacher J will tell me he's had a change in heart, or he may just be completely embarassed by what happened on Friday.  If he's going to feel that way then he shouldn't have put an ad up on AM or contacted me.  I may be adding the label "one-nighter" to my post about that meeting.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why is it so hard to find a man who is willing to take a chance and have a stable relationship outside his marriage?  It seems all men are looking for that they just don't want to commit to it.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6241704089440477742-6329108599874317591?l=confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/feeds/6329108599874317591/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/2009/08/just-my-luck.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6241704089440477742/posts/default/6329108599874317591'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6241704089440477742/posts/default/6329108599874317591'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/2009/08/just-my-luck.html' title='Just my luck'/><author><name>Married Lover</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07379164686571856070</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_198Iuo0-xII/S5HBGDv3OGI/AAAAAAAAAKE/yTPHcwWI8cw/S220/Sheet.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6241704089440477742.post-6580868248124584834</id><published>2009-08-24T19:07:00.008-04:00</published><updated>2009-08-24T19:31:18.100-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Teacher J'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Mr. J'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Mr. B'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Mr. S'/><title type='text'>A Full Plate</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;It's only Monday and already I may have full plate for this week.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After J's email on Saturday I decided to see if he was serious. I told him when I was available this week. I was actually shocked to learn he's trying to rearrange his schedule so we can meet Wednesday afternoon. I should know for sure by tomorrow. I'll be keeping my fingers crossed that I can cross my toes in a see of climaxes come Wednesday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I told B about my adventure with Teacher J last night. To be honest, I felt some guilt after that encounter. Don't get me wrong... the guilt had nothing to do with meeting and fucking Teacher J. But I did feel a bit guilty because I've known B since early May, and we've yet to make arrangements for our own encounter. To my immense joy, B is going to see if he can't meet me Friday morning before he heads out of town for a meeting. After three months, it looks like we may actually get a chance to be together. Here's our conversation from last night. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;"&gt;B: it is wrong for me to feel this way but&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;"&gt;B: I am slightly jealous &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;"&gt;Me: jealous?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;"&gt;Me: I honestly thought you'd be mad at me or something similar&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;"&gt;B: do you want me to be mad?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;"&gt;Me: no, not at all&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;"&gt;B: lol&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;"&gt;Me: I felt no guilt in yesterday except for the fact you and I have been trying to figure something out for weeks, and here I ran up to C. on a moments notice&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;"&gt;B: that is how it happens sometimes.....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;"&gt;B: tell me this....did it bother you when I told you I got my cock sucked that night? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;"&gt;Me: no, not at all&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;"&gt;B: I felt a little guilt about that too...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;After months, I got an email from S this afternoon.  Like always he asked what I'm currently reading.  That's how it always starts before he calls... and when he calls phone sex is soon to follow.  I doubt anything will happen.  S is too scarred.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;I haven't heard from Teacher J since Saturday.  I found his grocery list in the back seat of the car and almost died laughing.  When I emailed him and jokingly asked him if he was missing something, all I got back was "Funny.  Classic mistake."  I'll give him the benefit of the doubt.  He's a teacher and classes start this week.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;So, if things work out for this week I'll get to see J on Wednesday and B on Friday.  Here's to things working out!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6241704089440477742-6580868248124584834?l=confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/feeds/6580868248124584834/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/2009/08/full-plate.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6241704089440477742/posts/default/6580868248124584834'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6241704089440477742/posts/default/6580868248124584834'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/2009/08/full-plate.html' title='A Full Plate'/><author><name>Married Lover</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07379164686571856070</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_198Iuo0-xII/S5HBGDv3OGI/AAAAAAAAAKE/yTPHcwWI8cw/S220/Sheet.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6241704089440477742.post-1164275657653552333</id><published>2009-08-22T16:29:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2009-08-22T22:07:07.765-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Teacher J'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Mr. J'/><title type='text'>Saw an Old Friend</title><content type='html'>I saw J today at a local festival. It was nice to see him in person again. We talked for a few minutes, and then he had to go back to work. I don't know if it was because of what happened yesterday with Teacher J, but I did not feel that spark with J. He's told me in emails about what he wants to do the next time we arrange a meeting, but he has never actually asked me if there are any good days for me to meet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think J just wants a lover for when his wife isn't in the mood. I do not want to be a standby for anyone. I have never thought of these men as a standby for when my husband isn't in the mood. Each one of them has been different from my husband, and different from each other. I'm attracted to each one for different reasons, and none of the reason include "good for a quick fuck".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*Update:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just got an email from J. This doesn't change what I wrote earlier in this post, but I must admit I that I enjoy the few times I've been with J.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;It was REALLY nice getting to see you today! I seriously wanted to take the time to sweep you away to some back alley and fuck you! I mean fuck you hard!!! I hope we can see each other soon!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;I just wish what Teacher J thinks of yesterdays event. It's probably the newness of being with him, but I would love to start a regular relationship with Teacher J. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6241704089440477742-1164275657653552333?l=confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/feeds/1164275657653552333/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/2009/08/saw-old-friend.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6241704089440477742/posts/default/1164275657653552333'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6241704089440477742/posts/default/1164275657653552333'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/2009/08/saw-old-friend.html' title='Saw an Old Friend'/><author><name>Married Lover</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07379164686571856070</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_198Iuo0-xII/S5HBGDv3OGI/AAAAAAAAAKE/yTPHcwWI8cw/S220/Sheet.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6241704089440477742.post-2180195167775976282</id><published>2009-08-22T15:39:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2009-08-22T16:28:08.593-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Teacher J'/><title type='text'>A first for me thanks to a teacher</title><content type='html'>Yesterday, I got "sick" at work and came home early. As we had been doing all week, Teacher J and I were emailing each other several times an hour. The emails were getting more suggestive as the day progressed. When I emailed him to tell him I was heading home, he replied with an invitation to meet. In his typical way, Teacher J did not pressure but he was so "cute" in how he worded the email that I just could not say no. We made plans to meet at a park ten minutes from his school. I'll admit that it was an hour drive for me, but I wanted to meet him so badly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wasn't familiar with the area so I did not know that there were two sections of the park, and he never told me which one to meet him at. I thought for sure I'd miss him. Just after having to make a U-turn to go back to the park entrances, I saw his car coming out of one of the entrances. He followed me to the second entrance and parked next to my car. I did even have my door open before he was there opening it for me. He said he would greet me with a hug and a kiss, but I didn't believe him. He surprised me by reaching for me and giving me a warm hug. He asked if we could sit in my car and I said sure.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We sat and talked for a few minutes. He apologized for not looking too clean. He had been fixing his class room and moving boxes for some other teachers. I was nervous in the beginning but then he took my hand and started to caress it. It felt like a first date almost. He then told me that he really wanted to kiss me. I asked him if he was sure, and his response was to reach across the console and kiss me long and hard. There we were in the front seat of my car; at a park, and we didn't care who was looking at us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Teacher J finally asked me to drive to the other entrance where there was a more secluded lot. Once we got the second lot, we moved into the back seat where there was a little more privacy. We were like two horny teenagers! In no time at all, he had his cock out and was fucking my hand. Then he had my jeans off and was eating me right then and there. I have never been eaten like that before in my life! S has nothing on Teacher J!!! He made me cum two good long times, and then he was fucking me with his cock.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The fucking was so intense that I thought the world had tilted on its axis. Everything outside the car ceased to exsist for me and him. By the time we were done, we were drenched in sweat and laughing about the whole experience. Neither one of use had planned on fucking... just meeting. I had not fully recovered when he noticed some park employees driving around the lot. He jumped into the front seat to move the car. We were still laughing as he was trying to drive; put his shirt on, and I was trying to get dressed in the backseat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We were still laughing when he parked next to his car. I was finally able to move into the front seat with him. We talked some more and just could not get over what we had just done. Unlike S, Teacher J wasn't looking for a quick exit. Teacher J, again, caressed my hand and then started kissing me again. We both knew that we had to end things or we'd back in the back seat again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Teacher J seems like a sincere gentleman to me. He has always been honest about his home situation, and we do have a lot in common. I would not mind meeting him on a regular basis. I just hope the next time is in a bed instead of the back seat of my car.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6241704089440477742-2180195167775976282?l=confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/feeds/2180195167775976282/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/2009/08/first-for-me-thanks-to-teacher.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6241704089440477742/posts/default/2180195167775976282'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6241704089440477742/posts/default/2180195167775976282'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/2009/08/first-for-me-thanks-to-teacher.html' title='A first for me thanks to a teacher'/><author><name>Married Lover</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07379164686571856070</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_198Iuo0-xII/S5HBGDv3OGI/AAAAAAAAAKE/yTPHcwWI8cw/S220/Sheet.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6241704089440477742.post-8728973398842554699</id><published>2009-08-22T15:32:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2009-08-22T15:38:57.890-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Teacher J'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Ashley Madison'/><title type='text'>Ashley Madison</title><content type='html'>I had never heard of Ashley Madison until I saw an ad for the website while I was visiting an adult site. The whole concept intrigued me, and sound just like the sight I needed to look into.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;J wasn't making any effort to meet again after our second session. B was just as busy, and hardly had time to talk with me. I was getting damn lonely for some kind of communication.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I created a profile on AM and within hours I had winks and request for pictures. Frankly, some of the guys made me uncomfortable just from reading their profiles. I responded to a few that caught my attention. Many of those initial contacts never went anywhere. Some of the guys kept the conversation going for awhile, but none seem to want to really get to know me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That all changed when I got a wink from Teacher J. He was very honest in his profile and gave me a key to look at his pictures without asking for my key. I responded to his wink and returned the favor and gave him a key. It took him a few days to respond, but when he did I was hooked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Hi, I just received your pictures. Quite sexy. I read your profile before and you seem to be a sane, safe, stable and like minded person. I am in the process of getting separated but I looking for the same as you. I am a teacher and start back to school this week (oy ve) but ____ is not a prohibitive drive. I would like to learn more about you and see if we connect. Please ask whatever you like! We both need passion, adventure, and excitement.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Teacher J was the first guy on AM who not only gave me an outside email but gave any clue as to what he did for a job. I immediately emailed Teacher J off site. In the first day, we emailed each other twenty times. The second day it was over thirty times. Not only did we email each other all day long, we exchanged phone numbers. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;That all started at the beginning of this week. By yesterday, Friday, Teacher J and I were meeting and surprising the hell out of each other.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6241704089440477742-8728973398842554699?l=confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/feeds/8728973398842554699/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/2009/08/ashley-madison.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6241704089440477742/posts/default/8728973398842554699'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6241704089440477742/posts/default/8728973398842554699'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/2009/08/ashley-madison.html' title='Ashley Madison'/><author><name>Married Lover</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07379164686571856070</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_198Iuo0-xII/S5HBGDv3OGI/AAAAAAAAAKE/yTPHcwWI8cw/S220/Sheet.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6241704089440477742.post-3428235062332147991</id><published>2009-08-22T15:11:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2009-08-22T15:16:52.456-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Mr. B'/><title type='text'>Two Peas in a Pod</title><content type='html'>Around the time I answered J's ad, I meet B in a chat room. He lives an hour away but knows my area very well. We hit it off immediately. Because of how things &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;ended&lt;/span&gt; with S, I asked B if he had ever had an affair. That simple question opened up a whole can of worms.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;B is nine years old then I am and had been married for fifteen years. He admitted to having several affairs during the years of his marriage. He even told me that he has several ladies he was seeing currently. It felt so good to be able to talk to someone openly about what happened with S.  B was very understanding, and we discovered that we have the same opinions when it comes to affairs and lovers. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;B and I have no been chatting/emailing/meeting for over three months now.  He has been the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;consistent&lt;/span&gt; element in all of my adventures.  He does not care when I talk about my time with another man.  He shares his affairs with me, and it does not bother either one of us.  We've not been able to schedule an afternoon to have our own fun just yet.  However, I think that day will soon come.  It may be the only time we do fuck, but both of us would really like to add each other to our list of lovers.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6241704089440477742-3428235062332147991?l=confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/feeds/3428235062332147991/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/2009/08/two-peas-in-pod.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6241704089440477742/posts/default/3428235062332147991'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6241704089440477742/posts/default/3428235062332147991'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/2009/08/two-peas-in-pod.html' title='Two Peas in a Pod'/><author><name>Married Lover</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07379164686571856070</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_198Iuo0-xII/S5HBGDv3OGI/AAAAAAAAAKE/yTPHcwWI8cw/S220/Sheet.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6241704089440477742.post-1132119650130581065</id><published>2009-08-22T13:20:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2009-08-22T15:05:06.511-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Mr. J'/><title type='text'>The man on the radio</title><content type='html'>Within a week of my one night with S, I began talking with J.  I answered an ad he had posted on a forum in which he was seeking someone for discreet encounters.  I took a chance and responded.  We  exchanged emails for a few days, and then exchanged phone numbers.  When I heard his voice on the phone, I immediately became wet in my panties.  It was no wonder either.  J is a radio personality, and his voice is perfect for radio. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By the next week, I agreed to meet J at an event he was having to make an appearance at.  Seeing as my husband was still out of town I so no harm in going out and making a new friend.  Seeing as we had exchanged pictures, and J told me in what area he would be I was able to watch him before making myself known.  I must admit that I was a bit shocked when I saw him.  Yes, I knew what he looked like... in the face.  I was surprised at how the rest of him looked.  He was tall, over six feet, but he could have easily played Santa Claus with the belly he was sporting.  I almost turned around to leave when I noticed he was actually checking the crowd.  I continued to watch him for a few more minutes.  He was still checking the crowd, and also checking his phone.  That's when I realized he was looking for me, and wondering if I was going to call to cancel.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I decided to make myself visible to him because he was starting to look worried.  As much as I was shocked at his physical appearance, when I heard his voice I had that same reaction.  We talked right there in front of God and everyone about why we were looking for lovers.  It was exciting and frightening at the same time.  He wasn't afraid of anyone seeing him with another woman.  I did not know how to react with that.  I had always thought that lovers go someplace where no one will know them, and here he was introducing me as a "friend" to his coworkers.  It was a bit strange for me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hung around with him as he worked the event, and then he walked me to my car when he was free of the evening.  We talked some more and that is when I learned that he was the father of five, soon to be six, children.  Yet something else I was not expecting.  Although, him seeing my pause at this bit of information did not stop him.  Right after making that statement he looked me straight in the eyes and told me he wanted to kiss me.  The man has the bluest eyes I have ever seen, and I was still able to tell him no.  It's not that I did not want to kiss him but we were still in a very public place where he is well known.  He instead settled for a hug... a very long hug.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I did not hear from J again until the following week.  He told me he enjoyed meeting me and wanted to give that kiss from me.  After thinking about that night for days, I quickly agreed.  He made arrangements to get a room at a local hotel for later in the week.  The day finally arrived and I made arrangements to get off work early without any family members knowing.  I got the shock of my life when I got to the hotel and no J.  I waited ten minutes before calling him on his cell.  He was late getting out of the house, but he promised that he was on his way.  So, I waited for him to arrive. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As soon as we got into the room, J claimed his kiss.  On man, can he kiss!! All thoughts left my mind when he started kissing me.  Our clothes were quickly gone and we were rolling around on the bed.   J went from kissing my lips to kissing my nipples.  I swear he made me cum twice just from playing/kissing with my nipples.  I could not take it any more and told him to either fuck me or forget it.  He laughed and proceeded to slowly fuck me.  He could tell it was driving me crazy, but he kept his focus.  After wards we laid in bed with my head on his shoulder as he caressed my back.  It felt so good because that has never happened with my husband. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To my surprise, J started getting hard again.  Yet another first for me.  In those two hours we fucked three times.  It finally got to the point that we had to leave or family members would start calling us.  Leaving J was very hard that first time.  We managed to meet again a month later for another marathon session. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That second meeting was almost three months ago.  I have no idea what the future holds for J and I.  I do know that I enjoy talking with him, and he has never pressured me to meet on his terms.  I just cannot get him to meet on a more regular basis.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6241704089440477742-1132119650130581065?l=confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/feeds/1132119650130581065/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/2009/08/man-on-radio.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6241704089440477742/posts/default/1132119650130581065'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6241704089440477742/posts/default/1132119650130581065'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/2009/08/man-on-radio.html' title='The man on the radio'/><author><name>Married Lover</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07379164686571856070</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_198Iuo0-xII/S5HBGDv3OGI/AAAAAAAAAKE/yTPHcwWI8cw/S220/Sheet.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6241704089440477742.post-8667390616885146686</id><published>2009-08-21T21:26:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2009-08-21T22:06:14.474-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Mr. S'/><title type='text'>The One who started it all</title><content type='html'>I meet S in a chat room late one night while I was home alone.  The conversation was the typical first time chat.  He traveled for his job, and came to my area about once a month.  Within a few weeks, we had exchanged phone numbers.  He would call me the mornings my husband was already at work and I was still at home.  In all honesty, I never thought about phone sex when we exchanged numbers.  However, from the first phone call that is how we began each conversation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This was our routine for several months.  Until my husband went out of town that is.  I received an email from S one morning asking me how I was.  I told him I did not enjoy sleeping in an empty bed.  He mentioned that he was going to be in the southern part of the state, but could make an excuse to come up my way if I wanted him to.  I never told him to come up, but within hours I received a text from him.  By this time he knew who I worked for, and stopped by one of the branches to see me.  Unfortunate for him he picked the wrong branch.  In less then thirty minutes he was walking through the doors and zoned right in on me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I could not do what I wanted to do seeing him the first time.  I wanted to hold his hand; look into his eyes and smile.  Instead, I had to pretend that he was a complete stranger and I felt terrible treating him that way.  He did no stay long.  Shortly after he left I got another text message with his hotel name and room number.  I spent the next few hours before getting off work debating if I should go to his hotel to see him.  I did not make up my mind until 10 p.m. that night when I said good night to my husband via the phone, and then jumped into my car.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I never hesitated making the drive, or going up to his room.  When I got to his door I never knocked but instead just stood beside it.  In less then a minute he opened the door with a big smile.  We hugged each other, and settled on the bed to... talk.  We must have talked and watched t.v. for an hour before he suddenly told me he needed to kiss me.  His kiss was full of hunger and yet gentle at the same time.  We were both moaning in pleasure, and soon had to come up for air.  That was the beginning of the longest foreplay I have ever experienced.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We wasted no time removing our clothes.  S is most definitely a breast man.  He sucked and nipped at my nipples until the point that I had two orgasms.  This was before he even made an attempt to touch my pussy, which was soaking wet.  Once he tongue touched my aching pussy it was like someone threw a switch in me.  I came instantly and continued for what felt like forever.  S did not just suck on my clit; he devoured it.  I had never been treated that way before in my life, and I love it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By the time he came up over me, to place his cock at the entrance of my pussy I was a mindless fool.  All I wanted was to feel his cock inside me.  I was not disappointed in the least.  We fucked for what seemed like hours.  After wards, it took us both a good amount of time before we could move.  I immediately could tell when he got out of bed the something was not right.  He dressed to quickly, and it was his room.  That is when I realized that he was already regretting the entire evening.  I did not regret one moment of it, and had no plans to feel bad about what we experienced together.  I got dressed; gathered my bag; kissed him goodnight and left.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That was the last time I saw S in person.  He called me a few times after wards, and has emailed as well.  I will never regret the time I spent with S.  His guilt is not mine.  He was just the beginning of my journey into infidelity.  He was the one who started it all...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6241704089440477742-8667390616885146686?l=confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/feeds/8667390616885146686/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/2009/08/one-who-started-it-all.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6241704089440477742/posts/default/8667390616885146686'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6241704089440477742/posts/default/8667390616885146686'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/2009/08/one-who-started-it-all.html' title='The One who started it all'/><author><name>Married Lover</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07379164686571856070</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_198Iuo0-xII/S5HBGDv3OGI/AAAAAAAAAKE/yTPHcwWI8cw/S220/Sheet.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6241704089440477742.post-2517763072038836218</id><published>2009-08-21T20:30:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2009-08-21T21:26:04.485-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='bio'/><title type='text'>I'm only human</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;I was a faithful wife for six years, and then everything changed.  It all began with harmless emails and chats using various messengers and a few websites.  Then things changed when one friend gave me his cell number, and I called him one night while I was home alone.  The phone calls continued for a few months practicually on a weekly basis.  It must have been fate that he was in town the during the first week my husband was out of town for a six week period.  That night was the first night I slept with a man that was not my husband, and I enjoyed.  I felt no guilt, remorse, or shame. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Unfortunately, my friend did not feel the same way.  So, that was the beginning and end of that affair on a physical level.  That did not stop me from looking for a new lover to fill me with the excitement I felt from being with someone completely different from my husband.  In less then a week I was talking with a new friend, and shortly after that we meet at a public event.  There was some interesting chemistry between us, and by the next week we made plans to meet at a local hotel. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While I have taken two lovers, I have one friend who is my male counterpart.  He has more lovers then I do and enjoys telling me about his encounters.  I in turn tell him about my encounters, all of them.  In between our talks and lunches we offer each other some release in different ways.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Even with a lover, whom I see only once a few months, and a friend whom is generous in all ways, I still was not getting the excitement I craved.  That's when I signed up with a website to find one or more lovers.  I was amazed at the responses I got within just a few days.  Some seemed promising and I decided to keep a journal of my encounters with them.  No matter if it turns out to be a one time event or an on-going relationship they all deserve a mention.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6241704089440477742-2517763072038836218?l=confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/feeds/2517763072038836218/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/2009/08/im-only-human.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6241704089440477742/posts/default/2517763072038836218'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6241704089440477742/posts/default/2517763072038836218'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://confessionsofamarriedlover.blogspot.com/2009/08/im-only-human.html' title='I&apos;m only human'/><author><name>Married Lover</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07379164686571856070</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_198Iuo0-xII/S5HBGDv3OGI/AAAAAAAAAKE/yTPHcwWI8cw/S220/Sheet.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry></feed>
