Of Moose And Men
The Best Laid Plans Of Both Often Go Astray

“But I know some girls who told me
‘Ride a bike, or ride a pony.’
Honey, I’d ride a moose
if only that would please me.”

I’d Like To Come by The Wet Spots

Oh, and I’m sure it’s all Heath’s fault, but I was having really, really vivd dreams about rimming last night. And yes, that’s a good thing.

Started looking at dates for races for next year. Cherry Blossom and the Dismal Swamp look doable – CB’s about 2 weeks before DS, and a 10 miler would be a nice training run for the 13.1 miles. The Rock ‘n Roll Half is also doable, just need to decide if I want to sign up before the end of this month for the cheaper registration.

Upgraded WordPress last night, and fixed Live+Press this evening. L+P was having the same issue it did when I first installed it, so had to look up the fix. Thankfully I knew I could fix the problem, it was just a matter of finding the issue and uploading the errant file again. Yay for easy fixes. Had to upgrade not because I particularly wanted to but the comment spam was starting to become an issue again and that was something up with which I was not going to put. Leave it to security problems to force an upgrade. Thankfully someone put out an unsupported version of L+P so I can still dual post to LimeGerbil.

Along with planning the season I’ve been giving thought to the off-season. I think this year I need to hit the weights more and add some strength that’s been missing. I know I can add the cardio endurance, but I’ve neglected weights and that’s affecting the rest of performance. Plus I’m as vain as the next guy (moreso, many would say; after all that song is about me), and some pretty gym muscles would be nice to go with the other ones. I have pretty nice legs, but the arms are, well, lacking. And the swim would definitely benefit from stronger arms. Not to mention strengthening my back is going to be crucial to doing longer rides as I lengthen my triathlon distances. Nothing worse than coming off the bike with a back that’s ready to kill you (takes a couple miles to work that out, making the beginning of the run pretty painful).

MG and I went to the local BDSM club’s S&M 101 course last night, this one on restraints. Was remarkably easy to do the body harness once they showed us how to put it together. A useful skill, and one that I suspect will come in handy. Just need to get some cotton clothesline now instead of the thicker stuff I’ve got now (not long enough, and a tad too thick for this purpose). Glad we went, it was fun and informative. Looking forward to next month, impact play (smacking, hitting, flogging, etc.), even though I know I’m not terribly keen on that on the receiving end.

As MG and I were getting dressed this morning, he in a suit for a planned trip to NYC on business, and me in my bike jersey and shorts to bike to work, all I could think about was how it would make the start of a lovely pr0n scene, with the bike messenger coming to make a special delivery for the gentleman at his office.

Surprisingly, we still made it out on time.

Rawr.

I hate my digestive system. I suspect the spicy food from the other day has wreaked the havoc that is playing in there currently. Grrr. I want a do-over, with an iron digestive system the next time around, thanks. No lactose intolerance, no ickies when I eat (my favorite) spicy foods, just eat whatever I want and not get any sort of upset in the balance of the lower body. Is that so much to ask?

Did get some play in this evening, regardless. Must’ve been my 6 month mark, but I enjoyed it thoroughly. Shan’t go into more detail than that, this time.

The usual 7 miler planned for tomorrow morning, so it’s off to bed here so I can run before it gets too beastly out there. As it is it’ll easily be 80, even at the early hour. Thankfully the cold front comes through Friday to kill this thing off.

It’s as if someone made the A&F catalog as it was supposed to be. So, so not safe for work. Man and woman, woman and woman, man and man. Quite fun. And I think I can say that’s the first time I’ve ever watched lesbian pr0n (so that’s what they do…).

Link courtesy Mark

Yesterday evening just the thighs were sore, today it’s pretty much the entire lower body. Long run Saturday (7.2 miles), followed by a 2 hour bike ride Sunday (32.5 miles). Yeah, so nice and sore here today. Will stretch out shortly, but am enjoying sitting around in a bathrobe with my cereal and the web first.

Relatively quiet weekend. I did check out the local S&M club on Saturday where I learned that: a) I don’t like to receive heavy nipple play; and b) I despise being smacked on the ass.

After the usual lesson on a fetish (in this case, water sports), I had two play sessions, one as a bottom, one as top. In the first I was tied to another bottom, supporting each other as the top circled us, playing with nips (hands, clothespins, clamps and something else that felt pretty sharp, but which I did not see due to the blindfold), some light flogging (which was not unpleasant), smacking (which was unpleasant for me). The entire time he was hitting my ass all I could think was that I had a two hour bike ride to do the next day and that if he went too much further the ride was not going to be pleasant. Ah well, live and learn. In the second I worked a bottom’s nips and punched him some at his request.

In neither scene did any of us come. That was similar to my experience at the local fisting club, though there it was easier to make the bottom come, since I literally had a hand on the trigger.

I also learned that unless I’m restrained, I don’t like to just lie there (or stand there, as the case ay be). I need to be a bit more active than that. In the first scene I was at least able to run my hands over the other bottom, but I think if I’d just had to stand there with nothing to do I’d have been more bored than anything else. At least if one is bound one can strain against the ropes and do something. I suspect I’m more on the S side of the S&M equation, though I enjoy both sides of the B&D equation. Dunno. The only other time I’ve done much in the way of S&M was when a dom top was lightly punching my chest, which I did enjoy, but in the context of the larger scene. I actually stopped the top in the first scene from Saturday at one point when he was hitting my ass because it was just not comfortable, and not something I was into at all.

Oh, and in an odd moment, someone came by when we were blindfolded and put a cold water bottle on my butt. Felt like ice, and I was thinking that (ice) actually might have been fun, but it disappeared far too quickly. Not sure if they had the top’s permission to do it or not.

Watched one guy work over a bottom with a long dowel rod (I can’t think of any other way to describe it). I could see learning that particular skill.

I’ll attend again, I think the class structure at the beginning of the evening is good and I do need additional instruction in how to do certain things, but as I learn more about my own likes and dislikes I’ll become more selective about what I do.

He was fast, in the way that young men sometimes are.

He called me from the front hall. I brought him upstairs, offered him some water. While he was still sipping from the glass he slipped a hand up under my shirt. I kissed him, tasting the water still in his mouth, feeling the coolness left from it. I took the glass, put it down, he pulled off my shirt, ran his hands over my chest in a cursory manner, immediately slid to the button on my jeans and began to pull them down as I kicked off my shoes.

“You have two pieces of metal,” he said, groping me through the jock. “Ayuh,” I replied. Off came his shirt. A quick glance at his nipple piercing, a warning that it was new, a promise to leave it be, and off came his pants and underwear. My jock quickly followed and he pulled me to him.

We made out on the couch, and he quickly established that he wanted to top. I was amenable, and after more groping and furtive, restless kisses, I had to insist that we retire to the bedroom where the supplies were.

A brief bit of wrestling, and he was behind me while I was on my knees. I wrapped him up, slicked us both up, and in he went. Arching backwards, I sought some connection of skin to skin, and he had me roll over on my back. From there I wrapped my legs around him as he hammered in and out, rabbit-like in his hurry. More kisses, a few moans, and his eyes began to roll back. As he came, I grabbed myself and jerked. Once, twice, three times and I erupted as well.

After I settled down he apologized for being so fast. “It’s been a while,” he whispered. “I’m not complaining,” I replied, smiling and gesturing at the evidence of my satisfaction that now lay upon my stomach.

“Can I use your shower?”

“Certainly, let me get you a towel.”

As the water ran I slipped back into underwear and my jeans. My socks had never made it off my feet, there was simply no time for it.

As he dressed, he mused about dinner and that we lived pretty close, a mere 20 blocks or so. “A quick bike ride, then,” I said. “Yeah.”

And with that, he was out the door, wandering back to his car. Time elapsed from when he called me to let him into the building: 25 minutes.

I think I’m developing a fetish for jock straps.

They provide such easy access to all the right things, concealing the dangly bits, constricting them slightly (depending on the style), forcing a constrained push against the outer fabric. They can be left in place, or simply pushed to the side while remaining on, used to move, or control, or pull or tug. They accentuate the crotch and ass, providing a contrast with the surrounding skin that pleases the eye and heightens the awareness of how bare a lot of that area really is even with them on.

In other words, they’re quite fun.

I mention this because I’ve played recently with a gentleman who asked if I’d wear a jock, and I was happy to oblige. He also wore one, and I was surprised at how much more aroused I was with both of us wearing them. It was so easy, after a lot of heavy petting, to lift up his ass (he was on his back), while he was still wrapped, and rim him thoroughly. His focus, as well as mine, was on how his ass felt under that assault. After a good bit of that, with lots of spit on my part, and lots of moaning on his, a condom was grabbed. I pulled my jock to the side, slipping my cock out beside the fabric, slipped on the condom, and slipped the wrapped PA inside.

His eyes got even larger than they’d been under my tongue’s assault as the metal, harder than the surrounding flesh, slid slowly into his hole. I eased all the way in, feeling the jock up against the side of my crotch as I pressed tight up against him. Looking down I could see the white fabric under his nuts separate into the two side straps, curving to either side of the ass I had just split open.

The sides of his jock made for a nice handle as I thrust in and out. Eventually, in the normal course of play, I came into the rubber. Held him for a bit like that, letting the sensation wash over me, feeling the intensity that the PA brings to the experience. When I came back down, I groped his crotch through his jock, feeling how he strained against the cloth. Slipped out of him and righted the fabric of my own jock, reconnected my crotch to his ass and pulled his jock out of the way. My hands made quick work of him after that while my jock ground into his ass, with an explosion I later discovered was his 2nd of our session (seems his nips were rather more sensitive then I’d imagined while the heavy petting was occurring). After that, jocks went back into the usual position for nice, calming rubbing and reassurances.

This was not always the case, that I’d like jock straps. The wide waist bands on most of them tend to irritate me, and the thinner swimmer’s jocks are okay, but still not the most comfortable to wear. The fabric of the waists is also pretty annoying, being a tad rougher than I prefer on sensitive areas like the waist. The rubber ones from Nasty Pig are quite fun, and I like to wear those on occasion, but what really did it was finding a pair of low-rise ones from 2(x)ist with a much more comfortable waistband. Once the waist issue was solved, it was pure heaven.

Yup, definitely developing a fetish here.

I was out running this morning, about 20 minutes or so in, was rounding one of the three corners around Hains Point, running on the grass, when I passed under some of the many cherry trees there. It was misting lightly, and some last few hardy blossoms were coming down in the rain, falling nicely across the path. Very pretty, very zen, very cool. And then one of the petals found its way into my mouth.

Nothing like spitting out cherry blossom to ruin a mood.

The good run (an hour, no calf pain!) was had despite sleeping in late, having been out late last night tricking. Tried water sports successfully for the first time (had an abortive attempt once before) and I have to say it did absolutely nothing for me. One set of initials checked off the list and in the ‘nah, don’t need to do that any more’ column. Along with that I also fisted the guy, and again I don’t think it does much for me. Is interesting in an itellectual sense (anatomy, displacement, etc.), and a sensual sense (control, texture, etc.), but it’s just not a very sexual act to me, in the sense of turning me on, because it just doesn’t. I won’t rule it out if a partner’s really into it, but I just need to realize that it’s silly to seek it out because it’s just ‘blah’ on the continuum of turn-ons for me.

Other than that I shopped, a lot (Homo Depot, Target, Pearson’s liquors), got a lot of things for the house, and generally got my money’s worth out of the rental car I had for the weekend. Have a fresh case of wine, replenished the liquor cabinet, got the aforementioned kitchen sink aerator, and got rid of 99% of the stuff that was left at the old place. Still have to haul off the old Kirby vacuum cleaner, and get my flour and stuff, but the big stuff that was being donated is now gone, which I’m sure Richard is glad of.