Diary of an Aging Pervert

Diary of an Aging Pervert

ADULT CONTENT WITHIN. People describe me as a really nice guy. Fuck that shit.

Monday, January 22, 2007

Pregnant sex

I wish I had fucked Mrs. Arkay more when she was pregnant.

It's been 19 year and that's still one of my regrets. Not a major one, but still...

Monday, November 27, 2006

Short Skirt Sunday

It was actually a month ago. October 29th. I didn't go to church that day. Actually I haven't been going to much lately. But the original Short Skirt Sunday was many years ago. Every year I remember it. And every year, the disparity that it represents shows me that I'm either one step closer, or one step more distant from God than I was.

I was watching Joyce Meyer on TV this morning while getting ready for work, and she was talking about how she wasn't interested in people's behavior in church. It's what they do at home, behind closed doors, that really matters. Church=Best Behavior. Home=The Real You. I thought she was right dead-on with that. That's what got me thinking about Short Skirt Sunday.

I realized that in the 10+ or so years that I've been going to church I've been struggling. Which is, of course, as it should be. The whole point is to identify the good parts and the bad parts of one's self, to sort them out, and then elevate one side over the other.

I realized that Church vs. Home was really an just extension of outward appearances vs. inner thoughts. "Home" is how we behave when no one's looking. "Home" is what we're thinking while we're sitting in the pew looking all spiritual and Godly.

Short Skirt Sunday.

As I started getting more deeply involved in my Church, I started serving in youth activities--teaching sunday school, leading confirmation groups, chaperoning youth events. I said that the youth are the future leaders of our church. I said that they need a spiritual education and guidance. I said they need to know God. I said I wanted to be part of that. But while I was saying all of this I was thinking something else entirely.

Sitting in the pew one Reformation Sunday I noticed one particular red haired girl who came in wearing a short black skirt. I had noticed her many times before. One of the youth I 'served.' She always stood out. As the service went on I noticed a number of other girls in short skirts. By the time the service was over I had counted nine. All middle and high school. All short skirts, most of them black.

So while I was listening quietly, reverently, singing, praying, sharing the peace and taking communion... While I was on my best Church behavior, I was thinking...

Damn, these girls are fucking hot.

And every year I remember. And every year I wonder what that says about who I really am.

Wednesday, November 08, 2006

What dreams may cum

I had one of those dreams last night.

It started out an anxiety dream. You know the ones... You're taking a final exam and you realize you haven't attended a single class all semester. Or it's closing time at the restaurant. You're not allowed to lock the doors until the last customer leaves, but as long as the doors are open you have to continue letting people in. And they just keep coming.

In this one I opened my front door to walk the dogs and before I could get the leash on them they bolted. Gone. Totally. Miles away in an instant. No clue what they were after. So I'm walking through the neighborhood looking for them. I need to get them back before they do something regrettable. Or before the neighbors complain.

Dreams are amazing in how you can be in totally familiar surroundings and suddenly they change to someplace you've never been before but you still think if it as that place you know. Or you can be interacting with some one you know, but the face and body you see belong to a stranger--it's not X, but at the same time it is.

I entered a forest and started climbing a steep hill (familiar unfamiliar surroundings) searching for the dogs. Suddenly I remember the wolves. I feared for the dogs because there were wolves. They were big dogs, but they were domestic. They wouldn't be able to defend themselves. When I reached the other side of the hill I saw the pack. In the distance at first, but ambling toward me, a pack of five grey wolves. They took no notice as they passed me, but still I was afraid.

I continued down. Past a pasture with a barbed wire fence. In it was a huge, angry bull. The bull snorted. It grunted. It charged the fence to get at me. Again, I was scared. But it couldn't get past the barbed wire. I inched slowly along until I was a safe distance away, then continued looking for the dogs.

Then I came to a thicket of heavy overgrown brush. I pushed my way through. There to my right was an old VW Beetle. It was painted baby blue, but had been neglected for many years. The brush grew in and around it. Just past it, the thicket opened up. There I stood on top of a huge boulder, looking down at a house. The wall of the house was entirely glass. The better to enjoy the view, my dear. In the clearing between the house and the bolder was a woman. Middle aged. Auburn hair. Naked. Not nude. NAKED. Big tits and a shaved pussy. Not clean shaven though. It had been a few days, at least. I could tell by the way she carried herself, by the way she fondled her tits with one hand and held her cunt with the other, that she was proud of her body. She had reason to be.

She was looking up at me. She said something about what I was wearing. Something complementary. That's when I noticed what I had on. A wife-beater and boyshort panties. (Check the archive for more on the panties. I don't know why I like 'em. I just do.) I responded something unintelligible. She came closer to the boulder opening up to me as she approached. I stepped off the edge and slid down to where she was.

Then she was lying on the ground, her legs were spread, and I was kneeling beside her rubbing her pussy. She was very wet. She said something about her husband, George, and I look up at the house. There through the window I could see a man, scruffy and unshaven, sitting in a chair, also wearing a wife-beater, and khaki pants, watching TV.

"That's George?" I asked.

"Don't worry about him," she responded.

So I didn't. I continued fingering her. Rubbing her clit with my fingertips, fast and hard. I wanted to do more. I wanted to eat her out. I wanted to fuck her.

Instead I woke up. Looked at the clock. 5:30! Time to hit the treadmill.

Thursday, November 02, 2006

White with blue stripes

There's so much more that I don't remember about that day than I do. But what I do remember remains one of those precious little vignettes, there in the back of my mind for me to pull out every once in a while and ponder... and savor.

All in all, there were somewhere between 10 and 15 kids ranging in age from seven to 17 running around the house that day. My siblings, my cousins who were visiting for the day, a couple neighborhood kids, and her. She was a friend of one of the cousins. If you're familiar with large families, you understand the chaos. A lot of talking. Even more shouting and yelling. A lot of running around. Very short attention spans. My first notice of her was fleeting.

I had just come home for work. I walked into the back yard, into the middle of the family gathering. There was everybody. Adults drinking and talking. Kids running and screaming. And there she was. The two things that struck me were, one, she was a stranger. I had never seen her before. And two, she was wearing a top that belonged to my little sister. White with blue stripes, zip front, little hood that was purely for style. I noticed it because I always noticed when my sister wore it. It was a very cute top, and even then I had a thing for the 'zip-front, nothing underneath' look. The third thing I noticed was that she herself was very cute.

The afternoon went on. I couldn't begin to relate the interactions she and I had, but I'm sure you're very familiar with childhood flirting. The awkwardness. The uncertainty. The offhand remarks that are supposed to sound like innocuous conversation, but are actually screaming "please notice me."

By the time the sun went down and most every one had moved inside, she and I were looking for an excuse to be alone. "I'm going for a walk." "I'll go with you." A silent prayer that no one else wants to come along.

When we got back, we found a quiet place in the side yard. There were no chairs, so we sat on the grass. Several moments later, we were lying down. Her on her back, me beside her, on my side with one hand across her stomach.

The kisses were soft. We were still very unsure of the situation. We talked. Finally I worked up the courage. I moved my hand to the zipper and just sort of fingered it for a moment. She didn't say anything. I slowly lowered it. Still she didn't say anything. I kissed her, and as I did I reached in and placed my hand on her small breast.

Now she spoke. I don't remember the exact words but I do remember their meaning. "Please, no." I smiled. I know it was a disappointed smile. I said ok. I returned the zipper to it's original position. I kissed her again. She kissed me back. And then she said something else. She said the words that have stuck with me all these years. The words that are probably what's kept this memory alive for me and prevented it from becoming one of those lost moments of youth - gone and completely forgotten. She complemented me. She told me how 'really nice' I was. I asked what she meant and she said...

"Most boys don't stop the first time I ask them."

Monday, October 30, 2006

Middle of the night sex

Ever have it? It's been a long time for me. Many, many years in fact. Mrs. A and I keep odd hours, and seldom get a full and simultaneous eight plus hours of uninterrupted sleep.

In the old days though, when we'd both go to bed at a reasonable hour and when we had a little more stamina...

Guys, ever wake up in the middle of the night with a hard-on? Ever wake up in to find yourself fondling the person next to you? Girls, ever wake up, or get woken up, like that?

I used to love going down on Mrs. A while she was asleep. I didn't do it often, but every once in a while, I'd drift out of whatever dream I was having and there she'd be, lying next to me. My hand would already be between her legs--must have been a nice dream I was having. I'd start stroking softly. Sometimes she would roll over and that would be the end of it. But sometimes she wouldn't. Instead, she would spread her legs a little. So I would continue. Stroking softly, then reaching inside. Then I would slide my entire body down the bed, and move gently between her legs. I would snuggle. I would nuzzle. I would begin gently kissing.

I always pictured myself stopping there and going back to sleep. Cuddling her pussy like a teddy bear. And waking in the morning, still cuddling. But that never happened. My gentle cuddling would turn into licking. My fingers would join my tongue, and the 'gentle' would become less so. At some point, I could never tell exactly when, she would wake up and we'd be engaged in full blown sex. Kissing, licking, sucking and fucking.

One or two orgasms later we'd both drift back to sleep.

Wednesday, October 25, 2006

Haven't heard this one before.

One Sunday a gentleman sitting in church notices that he's sitting directly behind a fine looking young Sunday School teacher. I had long harbored a secret attraction to her so, while they were taking up the collection, he screwed up his courage, leaned forward and said, "Would you like to have dinner with me on Tuesday?"

"Why yes, that would be nice," the lady responded.

Well, the gentleman couldn't believe his luck. On Tuesday he picked the lady up and took her to the finest restaurant in town. When they sat down, the gentleman looked over at her and suggested, "Would you like a cocktail before dinner?"

"Oh, no," the woman replied "Whatever would I tell my Sunday School class?"

Well, the gentleman was taken aback slightly, so he didn't say much until after dinner, when he pulled out a pack of cigarettes and offered her one.

"Oh my goodness no," said the woman. "I couldn't face my Sunday School class if I did?"

So now, having been rebuffed twice, the man felt pretty discouraged. They left the restaurant, got in his car headed home. After a short distance they passed a local Holiday Inn. He figured he had nothing to lose so he ventured, "Ahhh... mmmm... how would you like to stop at this motel?"

"Sure, that would be very nice," she said.

The gentleman couldn't believe his ears, and did a fast u-turn right then and there, drove back to the motel and got a room.

The next morning, after a night of wild, passionate and the most incredible and perverse sex imaginable, the gentleman awoke. He looked at the beautiful young woman lying in bed next to him and said, "I've got to ask you one thing, whatever are you going to tell your Sunday School class?"

The lady said, "The same thing I always tell them. You don't have to smoke and drink to have a good time."

Friday, October 20, 2006

My new hobby

Apparently my new hobby is arguing in chat rooms.

Litning Jill: wonder why men hang out here when obvious any women aint talking?----lol
Red496: 16 f hi
Litning Jill: if u wanna be taken seriously RED----get a profile
Litning Jill: she too fast for me---lol
SumOne6246: We get lucky occasionally, Jill.
Litning Jill: well-----not here---ur profile is alot of words that sats nothing
Litning Jill: says*
SumOne6246: Is that why your here? to judge profiles?
Litning Jill: I always read them --------& only speak to those that interest me--------What a shame men dont do the same
SumOne6246: Do you consider yours interesting?
SumOne6246: Cuz you basically used an awful lot of words to say just one thing... no men.
Litning Jill: it says the basics-----interests those with similar interests-----URS SAY NOTHING
SumOne6246: at least mine isn't condescending.
SumOne6246: Mine doesn't make me sound stuck up and narrow minded.
Litning Jill: URS says its a talking point-----but says nothing to talk about
SumOne6246: and yours says "no men" eight different times
SumOne6246: and that you're 47.
Rmclaug1960: dad here for phone
SumOne6246: twice
Litning Jill: I'm not narrow minded----guess ur refer5ring to AOL men bit?------welll most ARE scum------I select my male friends but not from ill mannered AOL 1's with no manners
Litning Jill: COS aol men have pea brains in their dicks---------and have NO MANNERS
SumOne6246: and women on aol are all dykes.
Litning Jill: they im & say HI---or ASL-----what imagination
SumOne6246: I guess life sucks that way.
SumOne6246: oh yeah, it's only men that do that. right
Litning Jill: if thats what u think------why do u bother? can assure u I aint
SumOne6246: and I can assure you I don't have a pea brain in my dick. so where does that leave us?
Litning Jill: u ermptied the room altogether now
SumOne6246: I did?
Litning Jill: nite

Yeah, yeah, I know it's childish. But don't you like to break out the coloring books and crayons every once in a while?