A Memory From My Private Journal :)
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Posted:Jul 29, 2021 10:27 am
Last Updated:Oct 14, 2021 9:09 am
9941 Views
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I have kept a private journal since I was a young . is very private, and passworded, and buried in the floor. LOL My hubby loves read when I allow him do that, and last week end he brought one of the entries me remind me of something he really enjoyed reading. He suggested I blog this one, and so... see below  // Tallie
Tallie's Private Journal
Nov. 22, 20 (four days after my 18th birthday)
cc: Sections: Life, Sexual, U of H Junior Year
This morning I am walking funny because I am sore from the last three days on the Big Island. I just got back late last night. The reason is as follows.
I graduated high school a couple of years earlier than the average student because over the first years of school they allowed me skip a couple of grades, one in junior high, and my junior year in high school. Because of that I was not quite 18 beginning my junior year of college. During the first couple of years, my freshman and sophomore years, I had lived in a dormitory with my best friend Shalayo, but beginning our junior year we were not able to live in the dorm anymore because they needed the space for new students. That forced Shalayo and I to move around to get acquainted with some other girls in order to spread the rental cost of a college age type house. Amongst four of us none of us had any transportation except for the public metro type busses, and bicycles. We had no car, and THAT was not going to work very well. In order to get a house we could afford we had to live a distance from school, and it was still a long ways even if we rode bicycles. We did it for a couple of months, bicycling, hitching, whatever we could do to get to class on time, and it just wasn't working. So....
Because my Dad was deployed for several more months, and my mother was very nervous about me driving all the way from the mountain in the horrendous traffic of Honolulu, I approached my Uncle Lander, our CEO of the family corporation had been known help family members in dire need. He had been our CEO for many years since the beginning of the corporation, and he often helped family members in dire stress, and that was the situation with me, very dire, no wheels. haha I called my Uncle Lander and told him I wanted to come into the office and talk to him about something. He asked me... "What about?" I didn't want to tip my hand and I answered saying... "Business." He said, "Very well young lady. Shine your shoes and be here first thing in the morning. I get here at six." Sheesh!!! &^%$ #
I explained my uncle that I had a little savings, not much, but it was about half of the down payment I had make on a used car. I explained the situation and how the transportation factor was making it difficult for me to get where I needed to be on time and in good order. I told him I had a little revenue stream from my allowance, and also from the other girls because they would me a little something for taking them school, etc., and that I was going ask my Uncle Andre' for a part time job at the big corporate owned department store. I told him I thought I could him back the $1500 I needed in six months, and I was willing sign an agreement that effect, interest, whatever. Uncle Lander said, "You really need a car now, don't you?" I said, "Yes sir." His final comment was, "Let me have a couple of days think about . I might have an idea." He asked, "Do you need a ride school this morning?" "Yes sir." He picked up the phone and talked Nino, the corporate van driver, and that was the first time I rode in the corporate van that runs errands and delivers things, etc. I was able talk Nino into going a certain route, and along the way we picked up the other girls and put their bicycles in the van. To our total surprise Nino was with the van in the afternoon take us home, and he was every day until the week end. My Uncle Lander was our hero.
The next Friday evening Uncle Lander called me and told me he would be picking me up on Saturday morning about . "Be ready," he said. "Yes sir." "Wear something pretty," he added. "Yes sir." Hmmm.
The next morning I saw Uncle Lander's car pull up in the drive way right on time. I bounded out the door running not keep him waiting. When I opened the door get in the car I was so surprised because my three Oahu Uncles were in the car. Uncle Lander, Uncle Andre', and Uncle Lapi. A haole American, a haole Frenchman born on Bora Bora, and a Hawaiian man, in that order. "Here , get in," Uncle Lapi instructed, and I crawled in on his lap in the front passenger seat. "What is this about? Where are we going?" I asked immediately. Uncle Lander said, "We have something we want show you," and that is all he said. I had worn a 13 inch mini, and a colorful flower print tank top with bare feet in my sandals. All the way to our destination I smiled at their continuous glances at my legs and braless breasts. I very seldom wore a bra back then because I never went anywhere where I had to be careful. I wiggled and squirmed and shifted several times trying to get Uncle Lapi's boner out of the crack of my ass, which was nothing new with him, haha, and I whispered very quietly directly into his ear, "Shame on you." He squeezed my shoulder and flexed his bone harder into my butt, and I couldn't help but laugh. I didn't know what they were up to, but I started to get suspicious when we pulled into the Ford dealership.
As soon as the Ford salesman saw us walk in the big glass door he said, "Follow me," and we trailed along behind him down a long hallway that opened into a big concrete floor room behind the offices. were a half dozen cars in the process of getting prepped for the new owners come and pick them up. were all types of cars, sedans, coupes, vans, what have you, and one very bright yellow Mustang convertible with a black top, and the top was down. "What do you think?" Uncle Lander asked. "Well, ummmm, I don't know. What are we talking about here?" The salesman stepped over to the convertible and leaned over the door and pulled the keys, and then he turned, stepped forward, and he handed the keys to me. The salesman said, "Congratulations sweetie. Have fun." I never inhaled so deeply in my life as I did at that moment. I turned to face my uncles were just standing grinning. Uncle Lander said, "'s all yours , now you have wheels." was no way I could stop the sobbing that began immediately. I went to pieces and was crying like a when I stepped forward each of my uncles in turn hug them as hard as I could with my arms around their waists. "Don't cry honey, be happy," Uncle Andre' said. "I am!" I wailed, and they all laughed including the salesman. It took about 15 minutes for me to calm down, but I was still sobbing when I opened the door and sat down in the drivers seat. The salesman quickly spoke up and said, "Ah, would you like for me to drive it out into the parking lot for you?" "Okayyyyyyyy," I cried, and everybody laughed again. haha
Out in the parking lot I pushed all the buttons, turned on the radio loud, raised and lowered the top about six times, kicked one of the tires once, "Owwwwww!" and everybody was laughing again, but now I was laughing too. After a few minutes of continuing disbelief I said, "Can we... ah... ?" Uncle Lander quickly said, "Take us for a ride sweetie," and he turned to shake the hand of the salesman and thanked him for his help, and we piled in without opening the door and with me behind the wheel. Uncle Lapi urged, "When you pull out of the drive way onto the street... give her the gun ," and I did, and we squealed onto the street with a loud screetch. "Woowee, go go!" Uncle Lapi yelped. Uncle Andre' in the back seat demanded, "Slow down for god's sakes!!!" haha I drove up the highway eastward from Waikiki over Diamond Back and then I turned around and went back. Uncle Lander sitting in the passenger seat beside me was staring at me. "What?" I asked. He replied boldly, "Your tan legs and this yellow car match perfectly." Both of my uncles in the back seat learned forward quickly see what Uncle Lander was talking about, and they agreed with him. I said, "Everything I have matches this car perfectly," and we all laughed together. All three of them were looking at me so intensely, and I didn't care. The three of them had gone together to buy me a brand new car, a convertible that I loved, and I intentionally made no attempt to pull my skirt down that had ridden up to the V patch allowing them to see the dark V of my thong between my legs. Each of them were grinning at me with such evil eyes, and I smiled back at them boldly allowing them to know that I knew how they were looking at me, and my smile allowed them to know I was inviting them to look all they wanted.
Where shall we go now? I asked as I continued driving back into Waikiki. "Lets get some lunch," Uncle Lander said quickly. "Head for the hotel honey," and my Uncle Lapi said, "Full speed ahead, I'm hungry," and Uncle Andre's said loudly, "'s a fricking stop light ahead!" haha
After pulling into the drive way of the Hilton I was very reluctant to give the key to the valet guy, but I did on Uncle Lander's urging. "'s my ," I said with a sad as best I could make one. Uncle Lander said, "'s a Ford sweetie," and I gave him the biggest frown I could. We all laughed together again. Everybody was happy and jovial, and I was on cloud nine.
At the lunch table my uncles ate their lunch fairly fast while I was picking at my salad because I was still to excited to eat. I looked up at them from my salad bowl and they almost appeared to be praying, and then I caught on and started laughing again. The lounge tables where we were having lunch was glass, and no table cloth. My uncles appeared to be looking down and praying because they were staring at my V patch through the glass of the table. When I caught on to what they were doing I crossed my legs to hide the V patch, but it didn't work because they liked the motion of my legs. I thought, oh hell what the heck, and I crossed my legs again. A couple of them looked up at my face and caught on that I was teasing them. Uncle Lapi continued staring down through the glass table. haha
"Well gentlemen, what shall we do now?" I asked. Uncle Lander looked at me very directly, and he said, "Are you ready to go upstairs now ?" I was not stupid, and I understood exactly what he was asking. "Do you have a place?" I asked him. He answered, "Yes, for this occasion... I have one of the larger suites comped." Uncle Lapi had stopped looking at my satin covered pussy and he was paying attention now. haha I said rather quietly, "You have done so much for me, and I am very, very, very appreciative, and I want to thank each one of you in the best way that I can." Without another word we each pushed back our chairs and stood up. Uncle Lander took my hand and I quite willingly allowed him to guide me out of the lounge, across the lobby, and into the elevator with my other two uncles following behind us. As the elevator rose to the highest floor I reached out and pulled each of my uncles close to me. They were so tall and I was shorter than I am now, so I urged them on each side of me to lift me up, and with my face at an equal height to theirs I kissed each of them on the mouth. They squeezed me between them, hands on my breasts, hands on my ass, hands under my skirt, and my lips on theirs. It rather felt like they were eating me alive. Before the elevator stopped someone had a long finger in my pussy, but I didn't know was, and didn't matter and I squeezed my legs together on whose ever hand was. Within ten seconds after we entered the suite my blouse suddenly went up over my head and was gone. Uncle Lapi picked me up and delivered me the little platform with the stripper pole in the middle of the room. It was pretty obvious what they wanted next. I was the talented, trained Latin dancer that was currently winning the local DanceSport contests. They just stood looking at me topless in my tiny little skirt, barefoot, I had lost my sandals, and I had to almost my fingers at them break their concentration, and I said... "Gentlemen, would someone please turn on the music, and... turn up. Turn up loud."
We spent four hours in the suite with each of them taking turns with me. Uncle Lapi and Uncle Andre' tried DP me, but at that time when I was so young I couldn't do because my ass was small, I guess. Late in the afternoon the four of us decided we were having so much fun and we were not ready stop, and Uncle Lander had an idea. He called the company pilot, and told him to go to the airport, we are leaving shortly.
is a 45 minute flight over Hilo on the Big Island. After we landed we picked up food and drink and booze from the take out places, and we drove out of Hilo the big house that Uncle Lander calls his Cabin about 30 minutes outside Hilo. Counting that day, Saturday, and Sunday and Monday, the four of us were naked, nude, bare assed, balls out with dripping wet ready pussy the entire time, and over those three days my three uncles fucked me so many times all over the cabin I couldn't even count them. They filled me with uncle cock, and also certain utensils. They creamed me so much I finally was able take the DP. They shot me full of cum in my pussy, in and on my mouth and face, my tits, my belly, my ass, and my French uncle even wrapped my hair around his cock and came in my hair. They did it me with finesse, and they did it me dirty with two of them effing me verbally in each ear with the third one's tongue in my pussy as I bucked my hips to get as much of his tongue as I could. were three of them, but the way we did , was like an uncle-niece party chain with me being for each of them over and over again during the time in whatever way they wanted me. My Uncle Andre' said more than once, "Mon Cherie, you are like six women," which in the situation I felt was a quite nice compliment.
When the three of them couldn't anymore even with a longer rest period, I showered, I swam in the pool, and I showered again, and I went back tell them I could go a little longer if they wanted too, but they were satiated, and happy enough. I told them then... I am not done paying you back for the fantastic thing you did for me. I told them that... over the next year I want to come and visit each one of you at least once a month, and if the three of you want to do something like this again we can do it at the family luaus, and the four of us can skip out and go somewhere to party. I love each one of you, and I hope you on me any time I can do something help you in some way. I told them... I have to live my own life, and I have a lot of my own things to do with school and dancing, etc., but the three of you are a bigger part of my life now, and I always want us to be close. Aloha wau ai oe. I hugged them and kissed them like a dutiful niece, and we packed up and went back to Oahu and our respective homes, and I haven't hardly been able to walk since I got back to the house last night. Shalayo has been so kind to bring me warm compresses all day, thank goodness.
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The Sexy Games We Sometimes Play
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Posted:Jul 19, 2021 3:13 pm
Last Updated:Sep 14, 2021 9:00 pm
7018 Views
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The Games We Sometimes Play
In the back and forth razzing and jazzing between my hubby and I when we are teasing each other it gets really fun sometimes, and I will give you an example below.
My hubby is a gadget freak, and he practically has his favorite electronics catalog memorized. Awhile back he came home with a new gadget that was sort of puzzling at first, but it didn't take long for me to catch on to what he was up to. He is always up to something, constantly, never ending, to the point that I sometimes feel like a guinea pig. (Just kidding)
He opened the box to show me… what looked like a typical headset telephone with ear phones and a little microphone/phone extension that fit right in front of his mouth. No big deal, I thought. Then he said, “This is your end of the project.” He showed me a simple earplug and a long wire with a battery pack at the end. That's when I went… hmmm.
He showed me how to put the earplug in my ear and cover the wire with my hair. He helped me to run the wire down the back of my neck and under my blouse with the battery at the bottom that he put in the pocket of my shorts that I was wearing. Hmmm.
He guided me out the front door onto the sidewalk and walked away from me a few feet, and then he turned the gadget on and he said, “Can you hear me now?” I responded nodding my head while I pointed to my mouth trying to tell him I needed a microphone because I knew he couldn't hear me. “You don't need a microphone for the task,” he said loud enough for me to hear. “What task is that?” I asked. I was getting suspicious fast. lol
The next Saturday morning he said, “Come on babe, lets go to the mall.” Instant shock. He never likes to go to the mall. “Why?” I asked. “Don't worry, you'll see,” he said, grinning like a monkey. Hmmm.
Before we got out of the car at the mall he fitted the earplug in my ear and he put on the headset. “Lets go,” he urged. Just before we arrived the big mall door he let go of my hand. “Go ahead sweetie, I'll be behind you a few feet.” Hmmm. I walked through the door looking back at him, and I stopped. He motioned at me to keep going. About 30 ft. away from the door he walked in nodding his head at me telling me to keep walking.
A moment later I heard in my ear, “Testing, testing. Can you hear me OK baby?” Without looking back I gave him a thumbs up. “OK, are you ready?” he asked. “For what!!!” I said quietly to myself. “Turn right at the next corner,” he instructed. He guided me into the main corridor of the mall where people were window shopping or just walking through the mall. “Stop, stop, stop,” he suddenly instructed. “Drop your hankie baby. Males on the radar.” I glanced back at him and he was still about 30 ft. behind me. “Go for it sweetie, they are checking you out right… now,” he said. I didn't have a hankie, so I dropped my purse. As I bent over to pick it up I aimed my ass at the four young men who were hanging out in the doorway of a store. “That's it babe! That was perfect. Well done sweetie,” he said louder in my ear. When I glanced at him again he was smiling and nodding his head at me to show his approval.
As we walked again he said, “Listen to the music sweetie. They are playing your song. Crank it up.” I knew what he meant. The mall was playing pop music, the kind a woman can move her hips to in the natural feminine flow of of her body. Years ago when I was involved in DanceSport my coaches always said before I could dance I had to learn to walk, and I practiced that walk for 1,000 hours. Now it is rather natural for me, and started walking to the beat of the sexy music. “Oh yeah,” I heard him say in my ear. “That's it honey, you are doing great. You are turning heads all the way up and down the mall.”
Walking, walking, again. “Turn left. Now stop. Sit on the bench across from that guy, and you know what to do.” There was a man roughly 45-50 years old or so reading a newspaper. He looked up at me as I sat down right across from him. The man was being polite and didn't stare at me and went back to reading his paper. In my ear I heard, “OK sweetie, you know what to do now, right?” I looked back down the corridor and Aly was standing just beyond the four young guys who were still watching me. He was smiling and nodding his head at me like it was in third gear on a bumpy road. lol I subtly pushed my purse off of my lap and it fell on the floor. As the man looked up from his paper I bent forward, and when I raised up with purse in hand I crossed my legs in the way that women know how to do. I looked at the man at that moment to see and feel his eyes on me, and I smiled at him, a friendly smile that only said,… hello there. “Oh sweetie, that was hot,” I heard in my ear. “Do it again, do it again,” he urged. When I looked at the man again he had apparently liked what he had seen because he was pretending to read his newspaper, his eyes just a half inch above the paper watching me. I sat there for a moment, and then I looked directly at the man and smiled at him again, and I moved my legs in that feminine motion again crossing them and allowing my shorts to ride up higher. The man got the message, and a second later he folded his paper and got up and stepped forward.
“Hello,” the man said in a cheerful manner. “Are you waiting for someone?” he asked. I responded to him saying, “In awhile, but not at the moment.” Hubby was practically yelling in my ear, “You go girl!” I invited the man to sit down beside me and we began chatting, only neighborly stuff, but it was a start. I learned the man was there waiting for his wife to return from a store down the corridor a ways, and he was just resting his legs and trying to be patient. The man asked, “Are you married?” I said smiling at him, “Yes I am. Does it matter?” He dropped his eyes and I could tell he didn't know what to say to my slightly bold response. He was just a nice guy, a family man with , and it was easy to tell he liked girls.
“Do you come to the mall often?” he asked, and suddenly he stood up. “I see my wife coming down the way there,” he said motioning toward the long corridor. “I understand,” I said smiling at him. “It was nice to meet you. Have a really good day.” He nodded his head and walked away.
“WTF,” my hubby asked. “What happened.”
“It's time to go bubba,” I said as I took the ear bud out of my ear. As we walked out of the mall he was very complimentary. “You were fantastic,” he said reaching for my hand. “I'm glad you think so sweetie,” I said. “Did you enjoy that?” I asked grinning at him. “Oh yeah, a lot,” he said laughing.
The car was at the outer edge of the parking lot. No one was watching so I unzipped him, but that was all I could do because the console makes it to difficult to lean over. As he drove us back home I squeezed him with my hand but I held back to not stroke him so he wouldn't cum. When we got in the house it didn't matter anymore. “Did you like that guy honey?” he asked whispering in my ear as soon as we were on the bed. “Yes, baby, he was a nice guy.” A few seconds later the gadget didn't matter anymore.
He is always thinking. Always coming up with ideas. He is always so good to me. The last time he came home from Japan, the next day after he arrived he urged me to go to the airport with him to pick up a big box that he had shipped air freight from Narita, the big Tokyo Airport with a jillion shops where he actually bought the best gadget ever. The deluxe model of a Symbian, double donged and a hundred times quieter than other models, but maybe that will be for another blog later.
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Who Are We In The Mix of So Many People?
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Posted:Jul 16, 2021 3:27 pm
Last Updated:Nov 12, 2021 3:01 pm
6919 Views
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Who are we to ourselves? Who are we to others? Who are we in the community, and the world? I think it is really difficult to ask such questions of oneself. How can we reach and agree to an objective answer when we are so close to the subject? I suspect we are probably many things, and perhaps we are different things to many people. We may even be different people inside our mind depending on whether it is day or night. Who are we at our own dinner table compared to who we are on the street, or at a party, or visiting a friend in the hospital, or all the other places we inhabit? Such is the confusing nature of how we may think about ourselves when we are among so many others.
I was reminded of something yesterday as I watched the news on television. The news feed played a clip describing our former President making a statement of how he thought “Hitler did some good things,” unfucking quote. After I recovered from the horror of the statement and the sheer stupidity of a President of the United States to actually say such a thing, I remembered something I read not long ago, and I will show it below.
Ann Frank was a girl, a , a young woman, who was a very smart, vibrant, Jewish girl with a wonderful talent for writing at her young age, and who was obviously having a hard time hiding in the Nazi gulag of Warsaw Poland near the end of the big war, WWII. In the last entry of her dairy she was obviously searching for… herself, trying to find the correct perception of herself in such terrible conditions that obviously confused her young mind.
The diary entry below was the last one Ann Frank made before she and her family were discovered in their hiding place and were made to march off to the truck or the train that took them to the gas chambers, and then to the ovens.
The first time I read this, and understanding the history of what was about to happen to her, I couldn't help it, and I cried all the way through it. See below.
Ann Frank's Last Diary Entry
Tuesday, 1 August, 1944:
Dearest Kitty,
“A bundle of contradictions” was the end of my previous letter and is the beginning of this one. Can you please tell me exactly what “a bundle of contradictions” is? What does “contradiction” mean? Like so many words, it can be interpreted in two ways: a contradiction imposed from without and one imposed from within.
The former means not accepting other people’s opinions, always knowing best, having the last word; in short, all those unpleasant traits for which I’m known. The latter, for which I’m not known, is my own secret.
As I’ve told you many times, I’m split in two. One side contains my exuberant cheerfulness, my flippancy, my joy in life and, above all, my ability to appreciate the lighter side of things. By that I mean not finding anything wrong with flirtations, a kiss, an embrace, an off-colour joke. This side of me is usually lying in wait to ambush the other one, which is much purer, deeper and finer. No one knows Anne’s better side, and that’s why most people can’t stand me….
Oh, I can be an amusing clown for an afternoon, but after that everyone’s had enough of me to last a month. Actually, I’m what a romantic movie is to a profound thinker – a mere diversion, a comic interlude, something that is soon forgotten: not bad, but not particularly good either.
I hate having to tell you this, but why shouldn’t I admit it when I know it’s true? My lighter, more superficial side will always steal a march on the deeper side and therefore always win. You can’t imagine how often I’ve tried to push away this Anne, which is only half of what is known as Anne-to beat her down, hide her. But it doesn’t work, and I know why.
I’m afraid that people who know me as I usually am will discover I have another side, a better and finer side. I’m afraid they’ll mock me, think I’m ridiculous and sentimental and not take me seriously. I’m used to not being taken seriously, but only the “light-hearted” Anne is used to it and can put up with it; the “deeper” Anne is too weak. If I force the good Anne into the spotlight for even fifteen minutes, she shuts up like a clam the moment she’s called upon to speak, and lets Anne number one do the talking. Before I realize it, she’s disappeared.
So the nice Anne is never seen in company. She’s never made a single appearance, though she almost always takes the stage when I’m alone. I know exactly how I’d like to be, how I am… on the inside. But unfortunately I’m only like that with myself. And perhaps that’s why-no, I’m sure that’s the reason why I think of myself as happy on the inside and other people think I’m happy on the outside. I’m guided by the pure Anne within, but on the outside I’m nothing but a frolicsome little goat tugging at its tether.
As I’ve told you, what I say is not what I feel, which is why I have a reputation for being boy-crazy as well as a flirt, a smart aleck and a reader of romances. The happy-go-lucky Anne laughs, gives a flippant reply, shrugs her shoulders and pretends she doesn’t give a darn. The quiet Anne reacts in just the opposite way. If I’m being completely honest, I’ll have to admit that it does matter to me, that I’m trying very hard to change myself, but that I I’m always up against a more powerful enemy.
A voice within me is sobbing, “You see, that’s what’s become of you. You’re surrounded by negative opinions, dismayed looks and mocking faces, people, who dislike you, and all because you don’t listen to the advice of your own better half.”
Believe me, I’d like to listen, but it doesn’t work, because if I’m quiet and serious, everyone thinks I’m putting on a new act and I have to save myself with a joke, and then I’m not even talking about my own family, who assume I must be sick, stuff me with aspirins and sedatives, feel my neck and forehead to see if I have a temperature, ask about my bowel movements and berate me for being in a bad mood, until I just can’t keep it up anymore, because when everybody starts hovering over me, I get cross, then sad, and finally end up turning my heart inside g out, the bad part on the outside and the good part on the inside, and keep trying to find a way to become what I’d like to be and what I could be if… if only there were no other people in the world.
Yours, Anne M. Frank
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Different Strokes For Different Folks, and Viva la Difference
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Posted:Jul 14, 2021 8:33 pm
Last Updated:Nov 26, 2021 11:04 am
7260 Views
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We feel fortunate that our primary home (Oahu) is located at a true crossroads of the world with all types and kinds visiting and passing through our beloved island. We very much enjoy our visitors (most of the time) because they stimulate our economy, they generally pass along what they know, and our island people are VERY MUCH looking forward to the end of Covid, and not just a relaxing of the needed rules ala fat cat on the take unscrupulous politicians, but a complete end to the pandemic. When that happens everybody is invited to the luau, and all you will have to do is follow the sounds of the drums.
Since we have been on this site we have noticed the genuine international flavor of sexuality that seems to be growing with Asian countries included, and Europeans of all kinds, and even Eastern Europeans and Latins. For that we offer our thanks to the folks at the international headquarters at the seat of the old British Empire. Even though down in this rabbit hole it is largely just an adult hankie pankie place, we believe the site is a great idea that brings many different types closer together, especially on a local and regional basis, and we believe in the old adage, “Make love, not war.” We do prize the “very interesting invitations” we have been receiving from all across the Pacific Rim, the UK and Ireland, and even from as far as Eastern Europe and Brazil.
In the various aspects of so many places around the world, it seems to us that in our continuing experience some of them have their own more/less distinct sexual characteristics, and we think that is cool. It truly is different strokes for different folks. The following are only our opinions, everybody has one, you know, but thus far this seems to be our general experience with some of the regional or continental characteristics.
America seems to be advancing a little faster now, but the sexuality of America is still screwed up like Hogan's Goat. Millions are interested in expanding their horizons, but everybody is still looking over their shoulder for fear of being discovered… as human. We actually do regret that is still the case with my hubby and I because we have to be so careful and discreet for his professional reasons, and of course for a certain amount of community reasons. The so called moral majority are exactly... the opposite of that… and are so detrimental to the entire country in multiple ways. We are Americans so we can say that even though I (she) am 100% Polynesian on the inside even though I look haole (Caucasian) on the outside thanks to my father's genes.
Australian men are a total riot, and crazy, so hilarious in their antics, and I love them a ton. They seem to have a tendency to take over an entire club on a night out, and it's fun to sing and dance with them, and suffer/enjoy their funny hats and clownish pretensions. They also seem to naturally be quite nice in dark places around the corner from the ladies room. LOL
Just because of the types my hubby and I are, we love, love, love the older Expat men with the cute young Asian sweeties who are headquartered across the Pacific Rim. We understand why many of them are hooked up as couples (economics), and it doesn't matter to us, because to us… they are nicely hot in mind and body on both ends of the age related spectrum.
Europeans are largely sophisticated to a higher degree, and we like that too. Die machen ist sehr schoun, and merci beaucoup. LOL
When they are on the island the UK'ers are the fun type of nastys, sometimes to omigod extremes, and when it was over I was saying… omigod. LOL
South and West Africa knows what they like, and sometimes I am one of them, and partly because of that we have learned Kizomba dancing that originated in Angola, because it's fun, and the underlying tone of it is quite sexy. If you Google Kizomba dancing you will see what I mean. We have also learned Bachata dancing that comes from the Caribbean.
South Americans… tall dark and handsome with sweet Latina cuties, uh huh (licking lips, squeezing thighs together) LOL
How about… Iceland? Omigod! We met two couples not long ago on another island (offshore Belize), and since then I am a believer in Elves. LOL Did you know that the people of Iceland stopped an expensive highway project to make the contractors go out of the way to build the highway around a known elf village? It's true.
So anyway, no doubt we all have our notions of the various characteristics from our own experience, and we are curious to know what others have learned. Tell us who your international sexual, or even nonsexual, favorites are, and why you like them. It's a small world, but still large enough, and my hubby and I want to know for our own reasons. We are always thinking about where we should go on our next vacation, etc., and we are open to ideas. Tell us about your best experience, and make a suggestion to us if you wish.
Thank you.
Tallie (curtsy)
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More of My Meandering Thoughts About Hot Wifing :)
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Posted:Jul 11, 2021 6:18 pm
Last Updated:Dec 2, 2021 1:47 pm
6808 Views
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The more experience I get as a hot wife the more questions I get from special friends, and the more I think back to understand how my hubby and I got started in this crazy but always nicely fulfilling life style. These are some of my thoughts today about how Aly (my hubby's nickname) and I have evolved that I know is attributable to the way Aly and I have learned to communicate so well.
Aly and I were actually swinging with special friends, couples, even before we married, so it wasn't like he had never seen me naked with another man before. We continued swinging with sexy couples that were mainly college friends of mine, and also with some of the Navy couples that Aly knew before he got out of the Navy. After we had been married for about two years Aly came home on a Friday evening after having traveled for several days, and he was really pumped up horny, and I like it when he gets really horny like that because of the fun ideas he often comes up with that are mainly to tease me, and himself, that typically results in a fantastic, hard breathing, sexual session that leaves both of momentarily exhausted.
Late on that fresh, exciting evening on the couch after watching a really sexy movie together he began a more aggressive foreplay after he had already teased my nipples into the hard little pebbles, and his fingers were caressing my pussy inside my panties when he whispered a question to me. He asked me if I thought any of his male friends were sexy? I don't know why but something just clicked in my brain and I decided I was going to be honest with him, and I teased him back whispering yes, I thought some of his friends were hot. He wanted to know which of his friends I thought were sexy, and I told him without hesitating, Tom, Dick, and Harry. LOL He stopped fingering me and moved down to tongue my pussy and lick my clit, and as he was doing that he insisted I tell him why I thought his friends were sexy. After I described male butts, and shoulders, rough hands and nice smiles, he moved up and penetrated me really smoothly without the usual hesitation to make sure I was wet enough. His little game had me so wet I was ready to fuck him all his friends, and a moment later that is what I was doing with his insistence that I pick one of his friends to fuck right then and there as if his body was the body of his friend. Omigod! He was urging me to fuck his friend, and the next thing I knew he had me calling him by their names as he fucked me with the hardest dick I had ever known him to have.
Our little game made me feel so incredibly sexy and I just kept naming his friends and fucking each one of them as if it was real. To Aly and I… with each of us knowing and understanding what was in the mind of the other, and with both of us aggressively, willingly doing it together, it WAS real. Our feelings together, and the wonderful orgasms I was having with his friends was real, and we both loved what was happening, what we were doing with other men involved, very involved… with me. Aly's cock was like a rock inside me and it felt wonderful, and when he started cumming I closed my eyes and whispered louder, urging all of them to cum inside me, to fill me full of cum, to fuck me like I knew they wanted to, and Aly gave me the biggest load of his life. I told each one of them in Aly's ear that I knew they had always wanted to fuck me, and I opened my body and my mind and I gave them what they wanted, and I enjoyed them so very much. Aly orgasmed into me for a considerable longer time, more than his usual, and I arched my back and squirmed, and squeezed him with my legs and took everything he gave me and more. I took all of them, but the last one was my dear, sweet, wonderful hubby that I loved so much.
We had discovered a wonderful new toy, and that little role play game was so nice we did it again and again over the week end, morning sex, nooner sex, afternoon delight, and late at night, whispering to each other what it was for us as a really nice turn on for us together, and individually, for him, and for me. Before the week end was over Aly and I were constantly so close together, so loving, so romantically and sexually close. We each knew it was something special. It was like we had achieved a major milestone in our marriage relationship. It was a wonderful thing. On Sunday evening I cried in his arms because the week end was over, and I knew he had to travel again the next day.
A couple of months later one of his buddies at Pearl Harbor got orders to go to Afghanistan to join a roughneck Marine unit in a place that was not very nice. Aly came home and told me about it, and he wanted to know what I thought about inviting his buddy to come over for a week end before he left for Afghanistan? He also mentioned that his buddy was not married and had no current girl friend to give him a nice send off. I already knew the guy and liked him so I told Aly to go ahead and make the invite, but in my mind I knew exactly what was in Aly's mind. It only took me five seconds to understand that my duty to Aly was to first of all serve him, and to accept what he wanted for us, and for me. It was his idea, his choice, and his timing, etc. I was first of all there for my hubby, and that made me feel good. It made me feel sexy, and needed, and I wanted to help him to make it happen. I wanted to make him happy in a new experience he wanted for both of us.
About three months later it happened again with another of his buddies, but I didn't know the guy this time. He was a total stranger for me this time and that made me a little nervous, but the guy was really nice, he made me laugh, and that was when we discovered the little ritual that Aly likes to do. Aly likes to be the one to take off my panties, and then turn me around to face the guy as if making a presentation of me to our male friend. The guy got really excited with me, and that turned me on for him, and before it was over we nearly fucked each other's brains out right in front of Aly who enjoyed watching that as much as his friend and I enjoyed it. I believe that is the moment Aly turned into a 39th degree voyeur. LOL
I have asked Aly about 100 times why he enjoys watching me like that, and at first he didn't know how to answer, but he thought about it and then he explained that sometimes the focus of his pleasure is on seeing and understanding my pleasure, and that somehow that makes me even better for him. He says the experience that I get makes me more sexy to him all the time.
We are very committed in our marriage, and we have talked a lot, and we agree that emotional relationships are genuine, but monogamy is not natural. We also agree that if we ever detected a problem we would stop, but we communicate so fantastically I don't see that happening for a very long time. He loves watching me orgasm with another man, and I love it because he wants me to.
In the beginning he controlled. He made the man choice for me, etc., but over time that has mellowed a bit to allow me to make suggestions, who, what, when, where, etc., and with more time it evolved even more. Aly travels in his business a lot, sometimes extensively, especially when he travels Asia. His business is such that he can headquarter himself on a regional basis, and because I am such a fair weather island girl we live at our primary home on Oahu during the mainland winter, and in the spring we move to either Las Vegas or New York City depending on his business opportunities. Next year he thinks maybe we will split our time between spring and fall between LV and NYC.
I admit I am a bit of a subby to my hubby, and sometimes that can transfer to another man if the man is interesting enough to me, but usually that only happens when my hubby is present, because after all, I am doing it for him. In my mind it is like... I have to do it because he wants me too. It doesn't happen often, but sometimes in certain situations the sub part of me literally thrills with wonderful feelings that makes me want to be available to whoever the next man is that walks in the door. It is mainly in my mind, but when I have those feelings I love it because it is like he is making me fuck, and it doesn't matter who it is because I have to do it for him. I suspect that is a major psychological part of any woman who is a genuine hot wife in the strict definition.
Incidentally, we don't like the word "cuckold" because that can often imply the husband is a weak man, a sissy, the woman rules, because that is not the way it is for us. My hubby is a strong man in his own right and he simply enjoys the sharing part. We prefer the term "hot wife," but the words are only semantics and we don't care about that much anymore. We know who we are, and why we are, and what we enjoy, and that's the main thing for us. We don't apply so many labels because when the time comes... just take me there and make me fuck I love it like that. That's a part of Aly's enjoyment when he takes my panties off and turns me to face the other man.
As the pandemic dies out, hopefully sooner than later, Aly and I want to explore more. We are experienced enough now to know what we like, and he wants to raise my sexual bar higher. We initially thought it was enough when we opened our marriage for both of us to begin dating others separately, but that was only a little while before the pandemic hit. All we know at the moment is we want to experience more of whatever it is we are missing, and we are not sure what that is. We are open to ideas, but not to things that we simply are not interested in like BDSM, dom personalities, or pain, and things we consider to be disgusting. More power to whoever likes those things, but those things are not for us. Aly just wants me to fuck men and sometimes women, but we don't yet know how it is going to happen, and in what situations.
Like I said, we are open to ideas, but I repeat every day in the messages I receive… not today, not tomorrow, not next week, probably not next month, but when the pandemic is settled and society is safe enough, and I don't give a fig what the on the take politicians say. It is NOT normal times yet. Be smart, or stay the hell away from us. My mother died of Covid last year, and I am still fucking pissed at the dumbshit asshole so called leaders because her death was preventable if there had been any sort of reasonable leadership of the country.
I'm out. Readers… cut loose, say what you think, comment however you like, and I invite you to have a nice orgasmic day
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Tallie's Best Female Friend :)
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Posted:Jul 10, 2021 6:23 pm
Last Updated:Nov 11, 2021 3:22 pm
5805 Views
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My best female friend in the whole world is a girl/woman named Shalayo. She was my room mate all through college when we were at the Univ. of Hawaii on Oahu. She is almost full blood Hawaiian, but does have a little Japanese mixed in. She is the same age as me, and she is truly a beautiful girl who is the real Queen of Oahu as evidenced by the billboard posters near Waikiki advertising the best Polynesian commercial show on the island. Without making a pun she worked her butt off all during college to put herself through school as an otea dancer of the commercial shows on the hotel circuit. If you don't know the Polynesian word, otea dancing is the fast Tahitian style dancing with the dancer moving her hips and ass at 100 mph in all directions at once. Through her college years Shalayo grew to be the hottest, best, most sexually attractive otea dancer in the islands. Currently she is the choreographer and feature dancer at the best commercial show on Oahu. For all the fat cat high roller tourists that seek her attention she is still the sweetest, most unspoiled, down to earth girl that she was when I first met her at age seventeen when we first hooked up to be room mates.
Shalayo and I have been partners in crime for ten years, and we have many secrets together. Neither one of us can blackmail the other because the dirt we have on each other would make at least a large foothill. Lol For a little while early in her college career she struggled financially, and I was happy to help her by introducing her to one of my uncles who at the time was the CEO of our family owned corporation. My uncle helped her to recover from her lack of cash, and she helped him in ways that were quite personal and confidential… at his secret loft just three blocks from the corporation's executive offices in Waikiki. Their association lasted almost two years, and it ended quite amicably with the two of them wishing each other the best. My uncle moved on to a local Japanese girl who became his sweet secret until he retired and later passed away. Shalayo moved on to multiple boy friends, and an occasional high roller who would tip the commercial show employees so well they would put pressure on her to dance extra numbers in the show to earn their considerably higher tip from the high roller, and after the show go out with the high roller (sometimes in company with me, the tag along chaperone to others, but threesome piece'm when out of sight).
After Shalayo and my uncle were no longer associated I introduced her to one of my favorite cousins who happened that same uncle's . At the time I had no idea what was going to happen, and later I almost went into rigor mortis because Shalayo and my cousin, my uncle's , fell in love and got engaged. Shalayo accepted the proposal from my uncle's , the uncle with whom she had a two year confidential relationship… with her fiancé's father. Omigod! Big drama at Black Rock! Paradise was about to get very potentially stormy. A typhoon was on the horizon. I made a beeline for my uncle to have a heart to heart talk, and then… everything suddenly got smooth and the storm went away. He told me how he and Shalayo had already had the conversation between them, and everything was cool. Whew! Calamity gone, but still warranted keeping an eye on the situation, but I am happy to say everything went perfect.
My cousin's best man was his father, my uncle, who stood beside the couple at the altar of the Goddess Laka (before the church wedding) while our Matriarch (my mother who was clueless, thank goodness) gave the Goddess blessing and presented the bride to her new aloha family, the family of her husband. In our family the ceremony is still very close to the way it was done hundreds of years ago on many of the Polynesian Islands.
Then it was wedding luau time… at which the Matriarch guides the bride away from the protection of her father and into the circle of the groom's family, her new protectors, her husband, his parents, his brothers and sisters, and others. After the groom's family welcomes the bride, she performs the first dance in the luau circle with everybody all around just as it was done in the old days, bride's dance… when the bride dances for her husband and all the males in his communal house. The traditional bride's dance symbolically represents the bride's willingness to make a baby as quickly as possible, and in the dance she presents herself to the males of her new family because… if a baby doesn't happen with the husband in relative short order she begins rotating the other males in the house. The purpose of the bride's action was because in the ancient times life was much more difficult due to disease, bad storms, war between islands, accidents, poor fishing years, and the several calamities of life that could decimate the population of an island. The babies resulting from any of the wives in the family communal house were raised by all of the adults in the house, all the fathers, all the mothers, the grandmothers, etc. No one questioned who the father was because all the adult males (except any unmarried males who still resided in the communal house) were considered to be a father of all the . In those times it was important for newly wed wives to make babies as quickly as possible, and THAT is one of the chief reasons Polynesians were swinging while the Europeans were still trying to figure out who was on first.
During the college years occasionally Shalayo and I would disappear for a week end (and still do at times, lol) to play with secret friends. One of the high rollers from Australia became a good friend, and once in awhile Shalayo and I would join him at one of the closed gate resorts on another island. One of our favorite places was a resort that had bungalows behind the boardwalk of the beach. The bungalows were fenced with waist level brick walls, and each one had a small back yard with palm trees, and a big hammock in the center of the yard. When we were there the three of us would put the hammock to its very best use, and you can probably guess what that was. Lol
One evening after our arrival at the resort the first thing we did was to go to the hammock to rest after our travel (our excuse for going there, lol). The three of us were in the hammock, nakey naked, except Shalayo and I were still wearing our stilettos because the high roller liked it that way. The high roller was on his back on the bottom. I was on top cowgirl style, and Shalayo was on his face with her thighs squeezing his head while shoving her tongue down my throat. We were like… a threesome knot of arms and legs and mouths and ass and boobs, and I was riding him hard while Shalayo was shoving her tongue everywhere, which she knows how to do very, very well. Shalayo was a little uncomfortable in the position so she shifted her weight slightly, and you can probably guess what happened. The hammock with the three of us did a complete 180, and on the way down the three of us somehow did a complete circus 360. The high roller landed on his back with me on top of him, and Shalayo's thighs were now clinching his head as if to break his neck. During the flip the high roller stayed inside of me perfectly and when we hit the ground it was like… whoaaaaaaaa, that was good. Lol Unfortunately when we landed my foot was under him, and the heel of my shoe was turned into his butt. I had sudden big pain in my ankle, but nothing compared to his pain because… my stiletto punctured a deep hole in his butt, like a three inch penetration into his butt. He screeched really loud and jumped up, standing up bleeding like a pig. Shalayo and I quickly talked him into laying back down on his stomach, and Shalayo ran for help while I grabbed a towel and tried to plug the hole to stop the bleeding. It didn't work, so I put my thumb into the hole and then wrapped the towel all around my hand and that sort of worked. Shalayo brought the medics in about 10 minutes with me not having any success in calming the guy down. A cabana boy showed up and I yelled at him to bring us a full cup of sugar fast. The medics took over but they weren't having much luck slowing the bleeding. The cabana boy came back and I edged my way back in and poured the sugar into the gaping, bleeding hole, and presto whizzo, it helped a lot. The medics wrapped him up and hauled him off to an ambulance with Shalayo and I standing there still naked with blood all over us. We immediately jumped in the pool and then put on our clothes wet, and away we went to the hospital.
The hospital kept the guy overnight for observation to make sure the bleeding wasn't going to start again. I called the airline and made arrangements while Shalayo helped the guy get dressed the next morning (with a huge bandage on his butt, lol), and then we were off to the airport. We got on the plane with me leading the way to our assigned seats and I sat down, but the high roller dude refused to sit beside me, lololololo, so I relocated so he and Shalayo could sit together. I was personna nongrata. The guy would barely speak to me. It became obvious he blamed me for his injury. I felt bad about it, but not that bad. Lol It was a genuine accident.
Shalayo and I took him to his final home bound plane, and we walked away and then looking into each other eyes… we couldn't help it. We exploded laughing, and we laughed all the way back to where we lived. Shalayo was howling with tears in her eyes, and I was trying to drive and breath at the same time. The whole scenario was so funny to us we couldn't stop laughing all the way home. Even now when we are together and reminded of that episode with the Australian guy it starts all over again and we laugh like crazy. Shame on us for that, but… you had to be there to understand the outrageous humor in it. Shalayo tells others… “When I got back with the medics Tallie had her thumb in his ass, and I thought wtf that's weird, and we laugh all over again. Shalayo heard from the guy but never dated him again. I didn't hear squat from him because I assumed I was his bad, evil huna monster. Lol
With her permission, below is my best friend in the whole world, Shalayo. Isn't she so beautiful, a statement, not a question.
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Sex vs. Love, a question
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Posted:Jul 1, 2021 3:55 pm
Last Updated:Nov 12, 2021 3:00 pm
5640 Views
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As usual, anyone is invited comment however they may wish.
The Subject: Sex vs. Love: Food for thought, a rather large question in the mind of Tallie, a modern wife.
The question: Should we have sex with the one we love or is sex a different thing entirely than having a loving relationship?
I suppose this question boggles the minds of many. A conventional wife would naturally glue physical sex with a relationship in terms of a commitment. That at least sounds convincing as well as the logical explanation on the face of it in traditional society. I believe this is because when in a relationship, it’s easy get laid, and once you possess something you start losing the value and the true potential of it.
Let’s this phenomenon from another perspective. Think of the days when you were and had discovered your sexual appetite. You were not having a relationship back then, but you were still attracted the concept of getting physical with a guy of your dreams. Why did you get wet and pleasantly titillated when your best friend was sharing her sexual encounter with you? Have you ever wondered why nature has put the element of sexual curiosity in you? Let’s try gather some answers.
The human brain is made of parts. One part of the brain controls our physical life functions, ie, the heart beating, the blood and organs pumping and working correctly. That is not the part of the brain we are concerned with here. Another part of the brain, the frontal lobe, is for logical reasoning, the mammalian brain with feelings of association and the most basic part is the strongest of . Then there is the Reptilian brain. The reason we it the Reptilian Brain is because it is the part reptiles have. This part is programmed for four functions. I it the 4F brain. Food, Fuck, Fight and Fear (or Flee). If you study the life of a reptile, you would notice that its life is revolving around the 4 Fs . In that sense humans are part reptilians as well. Sex is one of the four feelings processed by our reptilian brain. This is the part of our brain that makes us feel we want have sex when we a picture of a model. Even if you are married or in a very strong relationship, you still feel attracted sexually a model with a sexually appealing body.
Ok, enough of medical crap. Lets try translate it in simple words. Nature has made sex a necessary requirement of our body. If we don’t have sex then it’s like missing an important function of your body. But the interesting thing is that sex is like food. It comes in many flavors. It is difficult for many of us think we have stick just one flavor the time. But our society has trained our brain’s reasoning system convince us have sex with the one we are married . Basically society is fear us. The fear of being judged as a corrupt person.
Ok, lets get into this and think about this further. The reason our dominant society is this fear is because this is the way men can control women, the object of desire from the Reptilian Brain. We often see this in the animal world. Think about the way many four legged males, bulls, enter into literal battle to protect their females from other bulls. Most men are too scared to lose their power and control over women if they see her sleeping with another man. So in order to avoid that, society has been linking sex with relationships. This is where my hubby and I defied nature as it made us down through our respective family trees and various generations of our traditional oriented families in a larger society.
Fear is very powerful. The thing which is more powerful than fear is hope. Stop fearing about what if things would go in a wrong direction, and start thinking about how beautiful our life could be if both you and your partner develop a strong bonding and trust to the extent that you are willing to let go of each other from sexual exclusivity. Think about a million new possibilities of pleasure and happiness that actually could bring your life to an even stronger and strengthened bond with your partner. In such a bond no situation can ever create and maintain a misunderstanding between you.
In order to be happy and leave guilt behind, we need to learn how to unlink sex from commitment (the salesmanship of traditional norms by society). We need to accept the fact that sex is a basic need of our human body and life would be enhanced by our need to be fulfilled with all possible variations, flavors and combinations. This will nurture our personalities and will make us more of a complete human being than ever as well as a complete partner to our spouse who does the same for us in return. Speaking of the way males and females attract each other, as we observe others in society a complete human being is the most attractive to us. So we have nothing to lose and everything to gain. I mean, if having sex with another man makes your partner crave for you more, what is more interesting, more emotional, more pleasurable, more bonding, and more cooler than that?
My hubby and I talked this subject through for many hours over many days and nights, and in the intellectual depth we didn't even realize we had. The result of our discussion was so very exciting to both of us we were like waiting to hear sleigh bells on Christmas Eve. On the final evening of our discussion when our quiet little agreement and pact was made with such mutual excited enthusiasm, it was like we were standing out in the rain together with each drop falling on us enhancing our genuine recognition and love for each other. We literally thrilled with an increased love for each other in the very pleasant feelings we had for what we had accomplished to understand so much more than we had before.
It wasn't long after that when my wife title became so pleasantly official. That was about years ago. Our thinking, and our feelings for each other have not changed even one little bit since then because… because… start at the top and read it again
Just as an fyi, I allowed a friend to take the pic during our recent trip to the Caribbean (June 2021). The man took the pic my hubby's request because my hubby wanted a pic to be taken a certain moment. He snapped the pic just as I was beginning to have a really nice orgasm with another friend that felt so beautiful. Knowing that my hubby was also there watching and feeling his own pleasure by seeing mine made me want to experience the most intensive orgasm I could possibly have for him, and for myself. The freedom to just be myself and do what I really wanted to do was so wonderfully relaxing, helping me to just open my mind and body to drop every inhibition, and I fucking loved what was happening for both my hubby and for me. Although it was another man giving me the most beautiful orgasm my hubby and I were perfectly together enjoying what I was getting from the other man. The pic had to be chopped because there were two friends who were in the camera range, both married, a men and a woman, one of which was making whale sounds in my naval. LOL
Tallie
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Tallie's First Older Friend, shhhhh :)
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Posted:Jun 26, 2021 9:23 pm
Last Updated:Nov 11, 2021 3:44 pm
7424 Views
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This is something from my private journal, and event that occurred a few years ago when I was 19. Anyone is invited to comment however they wish. // Tallie
Tallie's Private Journal
February 18 20
Sections: Life, Friends, Sexual
I want to record something that I experienced last year, my junior year of college, when I was 19. (A lot of times people ask me why and how I was able to graduate from U of H at age 20. I have covered this in my journal before, but I will do it one more time. I graduated from U of H at an early age simply because my academic achievements through middle and were enough to allow the administrators to let skip my sophomore year of . The result was I was able to enter university age , and I graduated when I was 20. Simple enough.)
During my junior year in college I was not at U of H because… my father had recently retired from the Navy at age 57, and for the next few years until he turned 65 he worked at various civilian jobs as a consultant to the Navy in different parts of the world. During the summer after my sophomore year at U of H was working Galveston, TX, and that's when he had his first heart attack. We tried to get him to come home to Oahu to recover when he got of the hospital Houston, but he refused and was intent on completing the project job Galveston so he wouldn't get negative marks for not completing his contract with the Navy. He was also worried that both my older brother and I were in college at the time, my brother was in post grad , and was worried about our expenses. My and the rest of us talked to him until we were blue in the but he was determined to stay on the job Galveston. The result of our subsequent family meeting was my election to transfer to the U of Houston because I had good credits to do that, I was the one flexible enough to do it, and I wanted to do it because the family felt like somebody should be there close to in case he got sick again. So a few days later I packed my knap sack and hauled my buttowski to Houston to complete my enrollment for my junior year. At first I was determined not to like it, but I was wrong about that, and I did like Houston. I wanted to be there for if he needed , and it didn't take long and I learned that Houston is a party town. Lol
During the time I was going to U of Houston the year I was there I didn't live with my Dad who lived at Clear Lake City south of Houston on the coast of the Gulf of Mexico. I lived with three other college girls in a condo over on Galveston Island just west of the City of Galveston. I was not at all impressed with the Gulf of Mexico because the ocean was a dirty green color that generally made me uneasy because you can't see anything in the water and that made me nervous. I knew there were small sharks not to far out that generally wouldn't bother anybody but there was always the possibility of mistakes because I knew they would frequently chase little fish up close to the beach. My brother, a chamion Hawaiian surfer, had always told me if a shark was going to bite me I should bite them first. Yeah right! In Hawaiian waters you can generally see them, but in the Gulf you can't see them and have no idea they are even there. I didn't like the Gulf, except for the smaller surf that I could lay down in on the beach and enjoy the water rushing over my body that felt good.
After I got to Houston I realized how different it was to live on the mainland. The Galvestonians it an island but as far as I was concerned it was still the mainland that was separated by a big bridge. One of the ways I kept myself from getting homesick was by walking on the beach whenever I could. Because I went to five days a week during the day I could walk on the beach night during the major part of the week, which was discouraged by the local authorities, they didn't want people on the beach night unless they were fishing, but I did it anyway by being careful to stay of sight of others.
The other girls and I lived in a condo complex, and after I finished my homework it would usually be late at night. I would walk the side door, drop my clothes on the steps, and walk down the little narrow greenway between the condos and down around and through the big culvert the road and onto the beach. All I wore was my tennis shoes, and I would take my shoes off when I got to the beach and I would put them in some salt grass where nobody would see them. Naked and barefoot after dark I walked down the beach on the surf line unless or until I could see the night fishermen on the beach ahead of me who usually had a light on, and if they didn't have a light on I could usually see them anyway. When I saw someone fishing I would turn and walk back into the dunes, and walk around the fishermen and then I would walk back to the surf line and continue on my way. I did that 2-3 times a week. I would walk for about a mile or so and then turn around and go back, and by the time I got back into the condo I was relaxed, and sleepy, and I would go to bed and sleep like a rock. Walking on the beach there late at night was sort of my thinking and dreaming time. It was also sort of a turn on to walk nude right out in the open even though it was dark and no one could see me or know that I was there. I had done that for years already where I grew up on Sunset Beach on Oahu and that was the way I overcame being homesick.
One night I was walking when it was really extra dark. There was no moon, and the was overcast but not raining, and with no street lights down on that part of the highway. I was walking in the sand just above the surf, and I almost walked right into a fisherman. By accident I walked right up on the guy. The man and I did not see each other until we were about ft. apart, and we saw each other the same time, and it startled both of us. The man was in a squatting position fooling with a fishing pole, and he jumped up quickly and loudly exclaimed, "Omigod! A mermaid!" The way he just blurted it made it funny, thank goodness, because it lightened the moment of my sudden fear, and I laughed loud his loud remark, and then he laughed, and we stood there for a moment laughing together. The way it happened was actually funny to both us.
The moment of humor made me feel like I was safe enough because I knew I could outrun the guy if I had to, and we just stood there looking each other for another moment. I was not trying to hide myself like a squeamish prude and I didn't know what to say so I just stuck my hand and said, ", Tallie." The man took off his old hat, stepped forward, and stuck his hand and said, "Howdy, my name is Denver, Denver Collins. ... ah, pleased to meet you." I apologized to him for walking up on him in the dark and startling him, and he asked me if I drank coffee and he offered me a cup from his thermos bottle in the back of his truck a few feet away. He got an old denim jacket of the front of the truck and gave it to , and I put it on and we sat on the tailgate of his old truck and we drank the coffee together and chatted lightly. He asked if I lived in one of the condos across the road, and I guess he could tell I was uneasy with his question so he added, "Don't worry, I am 76 years old, and my passion of yesteryear is over and my passion now is fishing." He was just a nice old man and I decided I would like him. When I finished my cup of coffee I gave back his jacket and bid him good night, and then I went on my way back to the condo. Walking back I felt good about meeting the old guy. I made a friend tonight, I remember thinking to myself, and after my shower I went to bed happy and slept good. When I woke up in the morning I remembered it, and I thought about the funny way we met again, and I laughed again. It was kind of cool. I liked his name, Denver.
Over the next month I saw him 4-5 times in various places up and down the beach fishing late at night. He wasn't there every night, but he was there every week it seemed. I would walk close enough to him so he could see I was there and he would wave and motion at me to tell me he had coffee ready. If he looked like he was busy with his fishing I didn't bother him and I walked on by.
In the month after that we got to be pretty good friends. I would sit with him for an hour or even longer, and he would tell me the stories of his life. He had been in the Korean Conflict as a man and he told all about that. I told him about the effects of the Pearl Harbor bombing on the island people. He told about his wife who had passed some years before. He told me about his , two sons and a , and his many grandchildren, and I could tell that he was sad that they all lived far away in other states, to far away to visit often. He had a couple of friends where he lived at Missouri City, average neighbor types, but for the most part he was alone. I could tell he pretty much kept to himself, nobody hardly ever came to see him, and I felt sorry for him. I told him that my family was one of the largest in all the Pacific Islands both north and south, and the reason it was so large, and I told him how my was in the royal line of the old Kings of Tahiti. That was when he started calling Princess. LOL We talked together as friends. The age difference didn't matter at all, and he talked to like an equal, and he even understood why I enjoyed walking naked on the beach night, and that is when I told him something that was rather sexy.
One night he asked me, "What do you think about when you walk, and dream your dreams?" I was feeling kind of... nice, because I had not been wearing his old jacket for the last month, and when I sat and talked with him in the dark I remained naked, and he would straight in the eye as we talked, and he never made any sort of undue motion to take advantage of in any way. I guess I was feeling mischievous because I told him something that was true, but I didn't have to go as far as I did in the telling. He didn't stop me when I was talking, and he didn't ask me any questions, he just let me talk until I finished.
I told him that sometimes when I walk on the beach at night I think about all the people, all the men and boys around the world who are touching the water in their part of the world at the same moment I am walking in the light surf of the Gulf. I told him how I often sat down in the light surf to let the little waves wash up over me as I thought about all those males around the world touching their oceans with their hands, and their bodies. I told them how my feelings would elevate quite nicely thinking about those men touching the water... and how their masculine feelings would come to me through the water all the way around the world, and I would open my legs to invite their feelings and enjoy the little waves as they would slap against me, washing over me, washing over my thighs and belly, and over my breasts, and up to my where I would open my mouth and taste them... the salt of their bodies they would send .
He told that he understood my little dream, and he complimented me for being brave enough to tell him about it. I said, "You are my friend, and I told you because you asked me." After that there was nothing we couldn't talk about. Sex, religion, politics, whatever. Sometimes we would laugh together so much I would practically have tears coming out of my eyes, like when he told me how he was able to stop wearing short pants to church that his insisted he wear when he was four years old. "How did you manage that at such a age?" I asked. He told that one of his little friends in Sunday , another little had been making fun of him because he was wearing short pants (like Bermuda shorts with a matching jacket and tie), and the other little told him he looked like a . That was the last straw. He told in a very comical way how he got up and walked of the Sunday door, down the hall, and before he walked the door he unbuttoned, unzipped, and left the shorts laying in the hallway, and went the door and took off for home three blocks away. He said his father caught up with him when he was half way home. When his father questioned him he told him "I am not wearing those short pants to church again, and if somebody tries to make me do it not going to church." He told how his father suddenly got a big smile on his , and his father said, "Stop walking for minute I need to do something." When he told me his father stood there in the middle of the street a block from home, and took off his pants, and then took his little 's hand and they walked the rest of the way home, both of them pantless in their drawers... and I was howling with laughter because of the funny way he was telling it. He continued telling me the rest of the story of how his and two siblings, and his grand parents, all of them lived together in the same house... came home, with the two mothers fit to be tied because of the way the men had walked down their holy roller Southern Baptist Street in their skivvies like it was nobody's business. He told me that when the women came into the house protesting and yelling, his grandfather then took off his pants also, and the three of them, the four year old , the father, and the grandfather sat down at the kitchen table waiting for the women to serve lunch. He told me how the three of them sat there eating lunch grinning, winking at each other while the two women sat there red faced and fuming but more/less obeying the instructions of their men to serve lunch, sit down, eat, and everything will be fine DEAR. He told me how the last straw for the women came when lunch was over and he did what he was always supposed to do. He got of his chair and stood there before the women, and he said, "Thank you , thank you grandmother, for such a wonderful lunch." When he said that the two men couldn't hold it and they burst laughing loudly, and a moment later the women were laughing too. He told me that thanks to his father and grandfather understanding his feelings, that was the last time he wore short pants to church. LOL
In May, just before the college year was over, I walked up to him one night, but he wasn't fishing. He was just sitting there on the tailgate of his truck waiting for . It was very unusual that he wasn't fishing. I sat down beside him and he said, "I would like to ask you for a favor." He had never asked for anything before, very unusual. Then he explained, " 1: a.m. this morning, a little while from now, it will be my birthday. It has been a very long time since I celebrated my birthday with anyone. I would like to ask you if you might be interested in going up the road to the all night diner and having a birthday breakfast with me?" I instantly thought, how sad it would be if I refused him when he had no one else to help him celebrate his birthday. How could I refuse? "May I borrow your jacket?" I asked, and we got in the truck and away we went to the all night diner.
When we got there, there were three other people in the diner that late, and it was a good thing because his old jacket barely covered my ass. Bending over was not an option. LOL I sat on the inside of the booth and he sat beside to help hide my bottom parts. The waitress had a very amused on her with her eyebrows going up and down, but she took our breakfast order and brought us a pot of coffee, and we sat there for three hours talking and laughing, and we drank that whole pot of coffee and half of another one. Finally we had to get of the place because I had to so bad and I didn't want to walk by the 350 lb cook sitting the end of the counter eyeballing us. LOL I had to so bad he had to stop on the highway so I could jump and run over into the dunes. LOL
He drove directly to the condo and parked the truck in a dark spot so I could run quickly from the truck and around the corner to the side condo door with hopefully no one seeing . We sat there in the truck talking for a few minutes, and then it was 4 o'clock in the morning, and then I noticed he was looking at . He was REALLY looking . It was the very first time he had ever looked the way he was, and the longer I sat there, the more he looked, and I realized he wanted to see... more of ... because I was still wearing the jacket, and his eyes were all over , my , my breasts my legs, and his eyes began to feel... nice. I told him, "I didn't know it was your birthday, and I didn't have a chance to get you a present." That's when I took off the jacket and folded it and laid it down on the seat between us. He continued looking at quite boldly, and I didn't care. It didn't matter that I was completely naked and barefoot, and sitting right beside him. He said, ", you have already given this old man more presents than you know." It was the first time he had ever called me . I reached forward and I took his hand and placed it on my thigh, and I said, "I do have something I can give you... if you would like to have it." To my momentary surprise he instantly pulled his hand back, and then he started the truck without me even having a chance to get out, and he drove down the highway a little way and turned into the little road going down to the beach, and then I understood what he was doing, and why.
He drove down the beach a little way to make sure there were no other fishermen in the vicinity, and then he pulled over parking close to the dunes, turned off the lights, opened the doors, I got out of the truck, and then he was there and took my hand and I followed him back into the dunes with a big blanket under his other arm. I sucked him for a long time, like 30 minutes, and I was scared it wasn't going to happen for him, so I started whispering to him and calling him , and then all of a sudden he came UP like a flag on the 4th of July, and then there were no problems between then and sun up about an hour later. He got very excited with me, and he made up for a lot of time in that last hour fucking me about four different ways before finally cumming in my mouth. I knew he was safe so I drank him down. He made me cum twice, the first time he was giving it to me missionary, which was really nice because I wanted to be that close to him, I wanted to feel his breath on me. The second time my orgasm was even better with his fingers behind me as I was sucking him off. When he came in my mouth his fingers were like... spider legs on my pussy with his thumb in my ass.
The sun was coming up and we had to get out of there because cars would begin going by on the highway soon and they could see us parked at the edge of the dunes. It was broad light when we pulled back into the parking lot the condos. I actually walked into the condo with a less than clean very green ft. tarp wrapped around like a gown and over my head like a hoodie... after pounding on the door for somebody to let me in because I was locked without a key. LOL I never did live that one down with the other girls. LOL
I saw him 3-4 times after that, but we never repeated his birthday night. My Dad finished the project he was working on and he went back to the islands while I stayed another month saying my good byes to friends and professors, and partying with the girls, etc. The last two weeks I was there I looked for him every night, but he wasn't there, and I became very puzzled. I knew his name, but not his , and his was unlisted. I didn't know what to do. What I finally did do was take that big dirty tarp that I hadn't returned yet, and I dragged it down to the dunes to the same spot where I had fucked his eye teeth , and I set up the tarp like a tent, like a little house. I told a couple of the girls who were going to stay there during the summer to email me and let me know when the tent disappears. I left a letter in the tent with my mailing , and that's all I knew to do because I knew he wasn't computer literate. That was the last thing that happened, and I never saw him again, or heard from him. I worried about him for awhile because I was afraid he got sick or something, but there was no point in dwelling on it. He was just a nice old man, a good friend for a little while. Once in awhile something will remind me of the beach at Galveston, and it is just a fond old memory, something I will remember for a very long time.
end of entry
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The Down & Dirty, Tallie's Continuing Education
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Posted:Jun 6, 2021 10:21 am
Last Updated:Nov 13, 2021 8:23 am
9184 Views
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Yesterday evening I found myself in discussion with a girl friend who was asking me questions about interracial things, things of mixed nationalities and ethnic groups, etc. She is a curious girl and we had an interesting conversation, and I told her a little of my own experience, and afterward it made me remember something I put in my private journal a couple of years ago. Since I was years old I have kept a personal journal, although not always faithfully, that I keep locked, passworded, and buried in the floor. LOL In lieu of a new blog entry this morning I will insert an entry from my journal below.
Any reader is invited to make any comments, suggestions, offer ideas, tell us a fantasy, or whatever you may like to say. // Tallie
Tallie's Journal, November 5, 2019
Sections: Life, Sexual
I think what happens in the many mixtures of people behind closed doors is so interestingly sexy. When I was younger and involved with various boy friends in New York my friends and I would cruise the New York dance clubs after our earlier dates were over, and I learned a LOT about what happens in the racial salt and pepper mixtures late at night behind closed doors, and it was... Fun. <------ note the capital F. LOL
Occasionally Aly gets in that Fun mood with me, and there is a certain bar that he will take me to nearby to Pearl Harbor... where a lot of little white sweeties are afraid to go I don't want to go there by myself, but if Aly or another male friend takes me there... I get comfortable there quite quickly, and the little dance floor at the back of the bar is so dark that no one sitting in the front of the bar can see much of what is happening on that dance floor. Aly likes to take me there because he knows I turn on to it on the dance floor, the kissing, and the touching and fondling with big rough hands on my ass, and dancing the way I know how to in the sexy beat of the music, my arms wrapped around a strong man's neck, and my belly, my breasts, and my hips grinding and moving into the man the way it feels the nicest to both me and the man that is pulling me into him, the hard body of a working man that I am pressing myself against to the rhythm and beat of the sexy music. I generally allow the man to set the pace so to speak of how he wants to dance with me and I don't hold anything back, and they usually catch on to that quickly and the next thing I know I am practically getting humped in a standing position. LOL
When we occasionally go to that quiet little bar Aly has a tactic that he uses that helps me… to help him… enjoy what he likes to watch from the perspective of his own voyeuristic feelings that allows him to really turn on… to the very nice feelings his tactic also gives to me … because I have come over time to understand the feelings he enjoys so much, and the exhibitionist feelings that he prompts in me really turns me on quite nicely. I have asked him probably 0 times why he likes to watch me with other men, and after thinking about it for a time I understand it. He explains that sometimes the focus of his pleasure is to be able to see and understand the pleasure that I have with the other men. He says that somehow seeing my pleasure makes me even better for him. When he explains it that way I understand it, and when I understand it, it makes me want to please him even more in the way he enjoys seeing me equally as much as being with me himself. So anyway, when we go to that bar his tactic is to guide me to the center of the bar and sit me on a bar stool, and he turns my bar stool to aim my legs at the room that is usually at least half full of men. It usually doesn't take long for the more experienced men to instinctively catch on, and that's when Aly and I are able to make new friends with the men who approach us.
Although Aly can't see much of what is happening when I am on the dance floor at the rear of the building with the men who ask me to dance, it literally thrills Aly UP with the erotic male voyeur feelings it gives him, especially when I return from the dance floor with a man attached to my hip, the man's arm around me, and my hair disheveled about my face, my lipstick smeared around my mouth like a who has been in a heavy kissing session, and my blouse or shirt askew after having it unbuttoned and my breasts and nipples caressed so nicely on the dance floor. Aly takes me there to tease me, to warm me up, to get my skirt up higher where others can see the V patch of my panties, and then we may leave and go somewhere else to check out other possibilities at the tourist lounges. Half the time when we start out at that little out of the way bar we will go back there again later in the evening, and when we walk in the door again when it is later at night, the men I danced with before know exactly why we came back, and the invitations to dance again begin quickly, and more seriously because they understand the little game that Aly and I play at that bar is very possibly becoming… more real for them.
Sweet discreet little journal with pretty pink electronic borders around my secret pages… shall I say it out loud? Aly knows me so well, and he understands why sometimes I want the experience of the racial mixtures to enjoy it for what it is for me, for the way I enjoy the contrast with my own haole white skin body. I am pleased that Hawaii is a quite diversified crossroads of the world, especially Oahu, and we have it all among the local male species with the many backgrounds, the different ethnic groups, the varied stripes and colors of the male society. Men who are haole white like Americans or many Europeans, British, Australian, and also Black, Polynesian, Hispanic, Asian of the various kinds, Indian, and sometimes even a few Arabs. In all of the Hawaiian Islands now the Asian population actually outnumbers the haole, and those of pure Hawaiian or other Polynesian extract are third on the population list. I don't consort with all of them continuously, but when I do feel the want of such interesting physical contrast Aly has sort of a knack to know it and he will urge me to dress like the whores on Kalakaua Drive that runs the length of Waikiki Beach in their super short shorts, booty shorts, the uniform of a Honolulu whose legs curve quite nicely in their four inch plus stilettos. Aly will often whisper to me to ask me if I am ready to go slutfucking, and we laugh together when I pretend to be shocked at his suggestion.
I know Aly as well as he knows me, and I understand why he sometimes has his own cravings to take me someplace that is overtly down and dirty, the little bar where the working girls go to drink and relax before the next trick. You wouldn't believe some of the questions and suggestions that I get from the different types of men who go there, and I quietly repeat everything to Aly that those men say to me because I know he thrills to their words directed at me, and he gets off on it over and over again when I remind him of what they said to me when they wrapped me in their arms on the dance floor, and what they whisper to me again later if we go somewhere to fuck after the dancing.
At such times, on such down and dirty nights, sitting at the bar with Aly in that little bar with men all around us at the various tables looking at me, Aly will ask me, “What do you want baby?” It pleases him immensely when I quietly whisper to him, "This is what I want sweetie. Make me your babyslut girl tonight honey, make me do it. I want to do it for you, and also… for me. Make me do it please." When I say things like that to him he will get that certain expression of his lust on his face because my words nearly make him cum in his pants sitting right there at the bar with his hand on my thigh with my skirt up high so others can see my legs quite plainly. At such moments my own exhibitionist feelings thrills me inside so nicely, mentally and physically, and that causes me to enjoy the little tingles and buzzing in my nipples with his hand touching me, caressing my thighs, because I love it when all those other men are looking, especially when I can tell what they are thinking. Sometimes it turns me on so much it feels like my nipples are going to melt.
We hardly ever buy a drink at that little bar because when we are there the drinks just sort of magically arrive from the cutie little light skinned mulotto waitress who delivers them from the benefactors around the room, and I will say to Aly, "This drink is my payment in advance. Are you sure you would like for me to drink it?" He knows full well what the question means, that if I accept the drink from whoever the man was that sent it to me, that I become unofficially obligated to the man that sent it to us to dance with him, and perhaps more, and perhaps later when I am on the dance floor with the man to whisper in his ear to invite the man to go with us when we leave the bar. In Aly's mind the drink I hold in my hand is rather symbolic for the money that the working girls insist on getting before she does anything. In Aly's mind it is like the payment I receive in advance before I accept an invitation to dance with the man who sent it to me. Without even talking about it, if I continue accepting drinks from the same man, it is a signal to Aly, and perhaps to the man, that I may be fuckable.
When in that little bar I purposely won't drink the harder alcohol because I don't really like it, or its effects, so I will drink something softer that allows me to last through the evening. I have to be careful with gin, because gin makes me want to fuck quickly, and then it makes me feel terrible the next morning. When I am ready to get more serious and am feeling sexy with the man watching me closely whoever the man may be, and I will give Aly that “I'm ready now smile” that he recognizes, and I will lean forward and kiss him warmly. After I kiss him I will turn to nod my head and smile at the man who sent me the drink, and I will raise the glass to thank the black man, or Asian man, or the grizzled older retired sailor who drinks there, whoever it was who sent the drink to me. The experienced men catch on quickly, and after I do that it will generally only be moments when the man arrives our table to ask politely, and I will offer him my hand and follow him to the dance floor to pay what I owe to our liquid benefactor. In Aly's mind it is like I have been paid, and now it is my duty to reciprocate with something of value to the man. The men at the bar are smart enough to respect Aly and send him a drink as well, and their recognition of Aly helps him to maintain his own self esteem. The men are not stupid, and they know it helps them to get their foot in my door in a friendly way to both of us. Most of them are smart enough to know that if I came in with Aly, I will be leaving with him. Sometimes someone may misunderstand and think that I will leave with them while Aly waits for me as if he is my , but that doesn't happen often.
On such nights I always have my party bag with me, and if the situation develops further like it sometimes does I always have the mandatory condoms, nothing ever happens without condoms, and I have my own soap that works on the inside as well as the outside in the hotel shower, or wherever it may be, and the Listerine and strong biochem toothpaste with my battery driven toothbrush that neutralizes the cum that a man may deliver to my mouth. I never drink the cum unless I know someone really, really well, like perhaps some of the males that are qualified to cum in my mouth that I can consume by the rules of the Culture of Aloha. We don't actually go there to get me fucked nice every time because sometimes the men in that particular bar are of no interest with crappy personalities, or physical characteristics that genuinely make them unattractive sexually, but when there are men there who may be interesting, the later it gets Aly will begin urging me to select a man, and I will do that through the process of dancing with them, but sometimes if Aly has been an especially good boy I will give him a present and I will let him choose the man for me. He loves doing that, but he is worse than I am at making up his mind. LOL Sometimes things are so spontaneously irresistible to me we can barely get out to the parking lot when a new friend gets so excited he backs me up against the car door, and I confess I get very excited myself and I lip lock the guy when he is pushing my top up to get his hands on my breasts, and if I let them they may go for my panties. It sometimes takes minutes or more just to drive out of the parking lot. LOL Sometimes I am so turned on they will make me cum with their fingers right there with me backed up against the car door, and Aly has to practically drag me into the car because I get so excited I am ready to fuck right there in the parking lot. It has happened.
Oh my gosh sweet journal!!! If I don't stop this I may have to go downstairs from the office here and flirt with the doorman, a man I have known for a long time. (I am here at the office after hours by myself playing catch up while Aly is out of town.) The doorman used to work in hotel security, but he is old now and works as the doorman calling the taxi's in. He has been teasing me for years like only an older man can get away with. In these recent years he has called my car for me probably a thousand times, and I give him a dollar every time. He actually makes more money in a year than the general manager of the hotel, one dollar at a time. Most of the gold diggers that go in and out of the doors have no idea of his substance, the manners and courtesy of an ultimate gentleman who can buy and sell many others who pass through the big revolving door. He is a cool older man, and I like him. He seems to understand that I enjoy giving him glimpses of my legs and ass, or cleavage, and he always smiles back at me with an understanding expression. One of these days I may go winkie blinkie at him and see what happens. LOL Because of Aly's business we only live here on Oahu part of the year, and when we move back to the mainland after our Hawaii time is over I give him a $0 bill because I know he shares it with the younger bell men who are always so helpful to me when they carry my packages and things upstairs to the office.
Regarding that quiet little bar, I agree with Aly that it is sometimes ok to get down and dirty, and you just have to do it safely, and in a smart way, Sometimes when a new friend has me backed up against the car door in that parking lot Aly who is usually already in the car behind the wheel likes to reach through the open passenger window to tightly clasp my hands behind me. He especially likes to do that if the man gets his hand inside my panties because Aly knows I will likely push the man away so I can get in the car before he fingers me, and the reason Aly grabs my hands and holds them tightly is because he knows that I like it and I will cum right there against the car door with the man's fingers inside me. Aly is very audible sensitive you could say. He loves to hear me chirping through my orgasm right there in the parking lot where it is possible others can also hear me. If there are others nearby, maybe sitting there in their cars doing the same thing, or if they are just loitering having a smoke outside the bar, Aly wants them to know how excited I am, that I have succumbed to the hands of a man who nearly fucked me on the dance floor to later walk out of the club with us to go somewhere private. Aly wants them to know I am having a really nice orgasm and cumming only several feet away from the door of the bar, and there is not a fucking thing I can do about it with Aly holding my hands behind me. I admit that I am a subby to my hubby, and in my mind its like I have to do it because he wants me too. When I get in the car and perch myself on the man's lap I will often lean over and kiss Aly and ask him... "Are you having fun baby? Do you like this?" Because he is driving he will often put his hand high up inside my thighs with his free hand... while I am smooching the other man, and then feeding my nipples to the other guy's mouth while enroute to wherever we are going where they are both going to fuck me silly… with a new black friend, Asian friend, Indian friend, or maybe even a white friend with them usually getting me first as our guest, and as Aly's invited guest to have me, and Aly getting me after, and both of them usually more than once. I do literally love being with two men, and I know what Aly is often thinking when both of them fuck me more than once because… to him… it is like the small, gentle gangbang of the moment that he wants me to enjoy. I do know what he is thinking when it happens, and I do enjoy the pleasure of his thoughts, and I let him know it when I may ask the other man if he is ready to fuck me again, and then I wink at Aly to let him know I know what he is thinking and that it is cool, that I like what he is thinking. When that happens Aly is ready to go again even if the other man is not.
Aly and I are both very mental, and we communicate intimately so well I sometimes can't believe how good it gets for both of us, how easy it is for us because we know each other so well. On the nights when we start out at that little bar it is always Aly's intention to get me stuffed, pumped, and fucked nice, and I am always so happy to be his wife. Like other men often say to him, I consider myself to be a lucky girl.
Once when a black friend was about to leave the hotel afterward he put money on the end table beside the bed. Aly picked up the money and handed it back to him, and the man refused to take it saying he had a really great time. So Aly handed the money to me, and I tore up the money into many pieces right in front of the man. Then... the man caught on, and he apologized profusely. He actually was a basic nice person and just didn't understand because of the place where we had met him. He apologized big time and actually went down to one knee and kissed my hand asking for me to forgive him, and I did, and that was when Aly went out to get his camera from the car, and it started all over again. The man stripped off his clothes quickly and was between my legs already fucking me when Aly came back in the door. The man got so excited he went down on me again and it was another two hours before we finally left the motel about the time the sun was coming up.
When Aly first started taking me to that little down and dirty bar occasionally I thought it was interesting that fully half of the men in that bar were young guys, like 18 and up, the young sailors from the Base, and of course there were the men in their 30s, 40s, 50s, and even up to 70s. The young guys, barely more than boys are there because they are curious about the prostitutes. I like the young guys because they are the best dancers, but Aly explained to me the young one's are there because for them it is like a rite of passage, and if I fucked them for free it would actually spoil the rite for them. Aly said, "They will fuck you, no prob, but you don't actually fit the profile that gives them their bragging rights for having participated in the rite." I asked him how he knew about that, and all he said was... "I grew up in Nashville." LOL
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Life in the Vegas Lane #3
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Posted:May 28, 2021 1:32 pm
Last Updated:Nov 11, 2021 11:12 am
5090 Views
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Life in the Vegas Lane #3 5/28/21
(Spontaneous Happenings Are Often The Best)
In the experience of my hubby and I, spontaneous events that happen occasionally are often quite nice, and very sexy. We are interested in knowing whether others think the same about such unplanned events, if they have them, and if they are nice? Those who have had spontaneous fun, don't hesitate to chime in, and we will tell you about one of ours below.
Shortly before the pandemic hit, late Dec. 2019, my hubby and I were returning to Vegas from our Christmas vacation at NYC, and my hubby's business meetings in Washington D.C. We had a lot of fun catching up with some special friends at the Kizomba and Bachata Clubs in New York, and in general enjoyed a selective swing vacation with friends who lived in the D.C. burbs. When we got on the return plane at JFK we didn't know that something quite nice and very sexy was about to happen.
We were sitting up front at the bulkhead in the window and center seats with one of the nicely attractive young flight attendants sitting in the aisle seat. When the plane was almost finished loading the gate counter started sending the soldiers aboard who were flying on stand by. The soldiers load last because they are paying half price for any seat available. As the first soldier appeared in the coach class doorway a flight attendant made a brief announcement to everyone on the plane to say how happy the airline was to transport the walking wounded soldiers who had just been released from Walter Reed Hospital and were returning to their homes all across the country after serving a Middle East deployment in places that were not very nice. The entire plane erupted in loud applause as nearly a dozen soldiers filed down the aisle looking for open seats, each of them using some kind of support to help them walk, ie, crutches, canes, etc. As they passed by us my hubby stood up to shake their hand and ask each one of them where they were going. The last soldier aboard responded to my hubby saying, “I'm going to Bullhead City, AZ by way of Las Vegas,” and then he passed by us stumping along the aisle with a heavy cast on his foot heading to the back of the plane. Later we learned he had suffered multiple shrapnel wounds to his foot.
My hubby sat back down next to me and he gave me a funny little grin. “What?” I asked. My hubby said, “He was your type, wasn't he?” I looked back over the seat to see the soldier sitting down way in the back of the plane. “Well now that you mention it… “ I replied smiling at my hubby.
“Well, what do you think?' my hubby asked. I sort of knew what he was thinking because he had done what he was thinking of before with traveling soldiers, but there had never been an opportunity to do it with me there on the plane beside him. “If you want, go for it,” and that's all I said. My hubby got up to approach the nearest flight attendant to offer his idea. I saw the flight attendant nod her head and smile, and then she took off for the back to approach the soldier.
My hubby was watching the back of the plane to see what was happening, and then he said, “They are coming.” My hubby kissed me on the lips and told me to have a nice flight, and then he whispered in my ear, “Baby if you like him, give him some nice leg.” My hubby and I both understand how it works. I am the bait for my hubby's hook. LOL
The soldier settled in beside me as the flight attendant led my hubby to the back of the plane to sit in the open seat that the soldier had just vacated. My hubby travels a lot in his business, and he has offered this a few times, offered a seat improvement to a traveling soldier. My hubby remembers what it was like as a young Navy sailor traveling on stand by.
I introduced myself to the soldier and thanked him for his service, and I sympathized with his injured foot. His name was Andrew, and he told me how his injury happened in a skirmish with the Tabliban in Afghanistan. I told him that I had a couple of other friends currently in Afghanistan but he didn't know them. We chatted the whole way to Vegas, including during the three hour plane change at Atlanta where we helped him with his carry on and bought his dinner. As we made our way through the Atlanta terminal I held his arm and squeezed his hand to keep him from being bumped in the corridor by others rushing past.
On the flight from Atlanta we got into a quieter, more uninhibited conversation about past boy friends and girl friends, etc., and I allowed him to know just enough for him to understand that I was potentially fuckable with my hubby's approval. At that point his gentlemanly expressions turned into staring at my legs, and at my blouse that had become partially unbuttoned when he wasn't looking. During the flight the flight attendant sat down with us on her occasional breaks to chat with us, and to my own surprise she did not hesitate to play a subtly challenging flirt skirt with me with legs revealed in a quite nice feminine way on both sides of Andrew who was obviously a little confused but grinning like a monkey. LOL
It was during this time on the plane that hubby was making some of his own progress because… the flight attendant understood exactly what we were doing, and she kept my hubby informed of what was going on in the bulkhead seats far to the front of my hubby. An example is when she leaned down to whisper to him telling him, “She is four buttons down on the blouse, but don't worry, no one can see but me.” That's when hubby found out that she lived in Vegas and was at the end of her last flight for the week. We wouldn't be landing until 11:30 p.m., and he asked her if she would join us for an early breakfast and she accepted. It was after that when she came back to the front to lean over close to Andrew and I to whisper to us that the lavatories were empty now if we wanted to visit them. I think the flight attendant and I both were disappointed when Andrew told us that… he just couldn't put that much weight on his foot… as if he was trying to understand the mechanics of the mile high club. LOL
After landing at Vegas Andrew and I stumbled through the crowd to get his duffle bag, which surprised me that the terminal was literally packed so late in the evening… while hubby waited for the flight attendant to catch up. The four of us piled into a cab and away we went to our favorite hotel (because hubby and I had not yet had a chance to lease a place to live). My hubby sat in the front passenger seat with an envious look on his face with Andrew in the middle and Kathy (flight attendant) and me in the back seat… with skirts that had a mind of their own with Andrew's roaming hands on each side of him caressing thighs that he obviously liked.
Kathy left the hotel a few hours later after fucking both my hubby and me, and Andrew. It turned out she was engaged to be married the following week and we were her last fling so to speak. After Kathy left, over the next few hours my hubby and Andrew took turns with me, and the last was a really nice pounding from my hubby with Andrew spurt jerking with my hair wrapped around his cock. I had cum from my hair practically down to my knees and I was quite nicely satisfied (until hubby and I role played it all again later. LOL
After a hot shower and lunch we took Andrew to the bus station, and it was honestly like saying good by to an old friend, and a new special friend. Andrew is out of the Army now and every so often he drives up from Bullhead City to spend time with us, and sometimes he brings his girl friend. We haven't seen Kathy again, but we know she is on the HA site, and we know she appreciates the way we changed her name slightly to protect her.
We have had other spontaneous things happen over time that were a lot of fun, and maybe those will be for a future blog.
So… tell us how you feel about ad hoc spontaneous things compared to the planned events. We really enjoy spontaneity because it is always so exciting when it happens.
Whoever you are, and whichever plane you happen to be on, watch for us. You never can tell when a spontaneous moment can occur
Tallie
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Life of a Young Woman, College Age
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Posted:Jun 4, 2021 6:10 pm
Last Updated:Nov 11, 2021 11:06 am
7910 Views
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This turned out to be longer than I thought it would. Sorry. I will put an asterisk line across the page below where certain activity in the subject actually starts so you can skip the first part that you may not be interested in. If you are short on time, etc. read the next paragraph below to get the subject, and then scroll down until you see the asterisk line and begin reading at that point. Just trying to be helpful to friends who are short on time like I always am. // Tallie
Sometimes I think it is only natural for many of us to get new ideas from the better experiences of others, and that's OK with me because I do pay attention to things my friends like to do, or not. Sometimes in the earliest, silly games of finding our sexuality, or enhancing our sexuality, it is fun to “offer information” about ourselves and what we enjoyed, what we did, what we may still think about or want to do again. One of the games is called “Have you ever…?” which each of us in the game must answer truthfully, yes or no. In such games there always seems to be the typical question… “What is the most outrageous thing you have ever done?” A lot of people are pretty shy about answering that, but I suspect those who do answer truthfully find themselves gaining better, cool, sexier, personal friendships that can turn into special friendships. So here I go again being curious about the experiences of others to see if I am missing something. In such blog country as this it is naturally always give and take, so I will tell you one of my most outrageous things, and I hope others will chime in to tell me about their most outrageous sexual experience. So here goes, and don't worry out there, I always change the name(s) of the guilty. LOL
One of my most outrageous sexual experiences was when I was 20 years old during the summer before my senior year at the Univ. of Hawaii. It was right about the time I was beginning to pay more attention to the teasing of older men, the way they teased me in such a manner that only older men can get away with. At the end of my junior year I had already developed a “closer friendship” with one of my professors who had recently been divorced, a lightly bearded handsome man in his late 40s, (Well he was almost 30 years older than me, but it is OK if you older guys need to laugh. lol) I had actually known him for a long time as a friend of my family, since I was a monster , and I had always liked him as a cool guy. He told good jokes. He would turn around suddenly and wink at me when he knew I was looking at his butt. lol He would pick up the check half the time when our families would get together on outings. He always spoke to me as an equal, and I liked that. He was a cool guy. After I started to college where he taught science courses he would whistle at me when he saw me on the side walk. His joke was to walk in a covy of male students, and whistle at me loudly, and then shrug his shoulders like “I didn't do it” when the male students whistled after he did. He was a good guy, and I liked him.
Over the first three years of college our friendship grew closer, and once in awhile he would invite me to happy hour, just the two of us, and because I knew him well, I trusted him, he was a friend of the family, he was handsome as hell with half the girls on campus trying to catch his eye, and that boosted my self esteem because I was the one he paid attention to, he made me feel pretty, so I would jazz him along jumping on his back piggyback style and he would carry me to his jeep, and we would go to his favorite little bar on the other side of the island near the Pearl Harbor gate. As we walked into the bar I would usually think something like “I'm a big girl now, walking into a bar with a handsome older man who will treat me like a lady, his equal.” When that happened my brain would start fizzing with a lot of other thoughts that sort of confused me, but it was fun. In the bar he would introduce me to the bartender and others as his , and THAT really made my brain fizz. The first time he did that he whispered his reason to me, “That's to keep the wolves at bay sweetie. There are a lot of working girls that come in here later and some of these guys are here to wait for them to arrive. It just saves some potential misunderstandings.” I thought that was very thoughtful of him, but then he had me wondering what is a “?” lol When I found out what a is it made me wonder if he went to that bar for certain other reasons, but… nah, he was an upstanding married guy and he wouldn't do THAT.
About the third or fourth time we went to that bar I asked him, “If I wasn't your would the other men in here think I might be a ? He laughed, and assured me I was way far above being mistaken for a , and that the men would be confused by my presence if I was in the bar alone. Then he told me a joke that I can't remember. It was about spring time when I stopped riding him piggyback, because he seemed to want to hold my hand as we walked. That was cool too, and I liked it. A little while before school was out we walked with our arms around each other, but never on campus or anyplace where our associates might see us. Over the bar table we started looking into each others eyes, and we talked in a quieter tone of voice, whispering our thoughts. The week before school was out he parked the jeep at Manhattan Beach, and we went for a walk in the sand. When we returned from our walk he caught my arm as I was about to get in the jeep, and the next thing I knew we were kissing, softly at first, and then more passionately, and then it became more aggressive, more hungry, more wanting by both of us. Then he took me home, and I was more confused than ever.
The very next morning on campus he whistled at me from a distance away, and he pointed to the jeep and held up four fingers. I knew it meant four o'clock, and I gave him thumbs up and nodded my head. All day long, through all of my classes, my mind was fizzing like crazy, and my nipples were tingling, and my panties were getting wetter with each class. I almost ran out of my last class, and down the steps, and across the grass, and when I got to the jeep he was already there. He spoiled my scheming little plan to perch myself on the jeep in a hopefully sexy pose that would cause him to look at me the way I wanted him too. That day we didn't go to the bar. He drove right on past the bar and down the way westward where there was a no tell motel. I am not sure how he did it but he already had the room key. As we climbed the steps to the second floor walkway he held my left hand with his left hand, and his right arm and hand was around me pulling me close to him. We climbed the stairs hip to hip, and it felt nice. It was a lot of the small things he did that always made me feel nice. In the room I responded to his question, “No, I am not a virgin, and I haven't been for awhile.” We enjoyed each other a number of times over four hours. After he would cum we would rest, and then I would suck him up again. The last time I rode his cock as hard as I could take it, and then he flipped me over and rammed me even harder. When I came the last time he had me squirming and squealing and pushing up as he was taking me deeper than I had ever had. After we showered we continued to rest on the bed naked, and that was when he told me about he and his wife's plans to divorce. The paperwork of their mutual agreement had already been filed, and he asked me if I would help him celebrate. Celebrate how?
We delayed the celebration because he had an idea that coincided with plans that I had to attend a week long thesis seminar on the mainland at UCLA. In the meantime, to stay on the down low I continued to date other guys just as he did with a couple of other women of his acquaintance. He and my Dad were drinking buddies, and THAT was not something to fool around with if you know what I mean. As the typical starving student I still lived at home, and Thursday night was Ladies Night at the clubs downtown, and to keep my parents from being to nosy I pretended to go out with my girl friends on Thursdays, and I saved Saturday nights with my best fuck buddy (supposedly spent with college friends) at the no tell motel. My parents never caught on to my schlepping around. I felt like such a grown up woman, lol, to know I had been successful in hiding my activities with the actually second older secret male friend, an actual friend of the family, after first meeting discreetly with a man who had ultimately moved back to the mainland after I had been fucking him for six months when I was 17.
******************************************************************
When the time came in August for my professor friend and I to get on the plane we did it separately in case anyone who knew us was watching, but with seats adjacent to each other as he had arranged. I had told my family the seminar would last for two weeks at UCLA, and the second week was an outside lab, don't call me I'll call you, yada yada yada. After we landed we went to a large motorcycle shop, and we rented a huge Harley Davidson bike, a 1200 cc Dual Glide, monster whatchacall it. We rented helmets with built in short wave radios that allowed us to talk to each other easily while going down the highway, and we took off for the big motorcycle rally at Sturgis, South Dakota that was scheduled for the following week. (I forgot to mention he owned a big bike back on the island and was a pretty good rider, and I felt safe with him.) He had it all planned out to take the scenic route on the smaller less traveled state highways, and we never got on the interstate. For part of the way he was shirtless, both of us laughing like crazy from the more/less admiring looks we got from people along the way with me topless in a thong bikini and hugging up against his back closely when people were to close. I kept a tank top stuffed in his back pocket in case I needed to grab it to cover up but that was never actually required in an emergency situation. I was 98% naked for a good part of the way and only covered up when I was concerned that my industrial strength sun lotion was maybe not working well enough. When we would stop for lunch or in the evening to check into a motel he would drive us around behind a big truck or building so I could get dressed before checking in, which was never more than cut offs and a tank top, but always barefoot.
We arrived Sturgis, SD on the second day of the rally. It had already begun, and the place was already packed with bikers, biker babes, with literally hundreds of smaller and larger machines making more noise than a flight of Strategic Air Command Bombers. It was loud, and boisterous to say the least, and the empty beer cans were nearing knee deep. We met up with three other couples, his friends that he already knew and had made arrangements with to share the cost of a cabin over in the Black Hills with sufficient capacity to sleep eight people. That night and continuing through the course of the week there was more sexual activity going on in that cabin than at the Bunny Ranch. lol The night it was just he and I together, but the second night we had a quick and quiet conversation about our boundaries, and we found out we didn't have any to speak of. lol The second night one of the other couples climbed the ladder to our loft and just crawled in with us, and he nor I hesitated for a second. That was the real beginning of one of the craziest weeks of my life. I had sex with a guy named “somebody” every day, lol and at night it was our cabin mates wanting to play with us, and mostly with me. During that crazy week I drank more beer and took more dick than I ever have in that short time span than any other time in my life to date. In the early evenings I won the wet T-shirt contest with the smallest boobs on stage, twice. lol
During a good part of the day I wore my brand new string bikinis that I had won in the Wet T-shirt contests, and most of that time I was topless. But… I quickly learned being topless you had to stay on the move, not stay in one place very long, because there were way to many drunk bikers. If to many men were beginning to come in the door we would go out the back and get on the bike, and away we would go to the other end of the street. We always went in/out the back doors because walking in the front doors actually was rather dangerous for me. As long as we were on the bike moving it was cool, and we always left town for the cabin in the Black Hills before it got very late, and that was fine with us because the couples at the cabin, and especially the girls, were knock down, lovely tits in our face, heart attack class, with two out of the other three being nicey spicey, bisexually scrumptious. From both men and women I had more sex in that cabin than anyplace else on earth at that time of my life, and I very much enjoyed being the young toy every night of both men and women. My family friend professor couldn't get his eyes full enough of what he brought to the party, but during the whole time he made sure I was safe and comfortable enough. I fucked almost anybody he wanted me to, his friends, their women, and a couple of times their friends. I enjoyed every bit of it, and have never regretted any of it. Except… for the short time it took to get back to the island. At the end of the week there was no way I could ride that bike all the way back to LA. I was sore, and walking funny. I had to take a plane back to LA and wait for the professor to catch up. By the time I was back on the island I was OK with no continuing soreness. The main difference was… my mind was FULL of three dimensional, colorful, scenic images flooding the nerve endings of my body, which caused my pussy to practically soak my panties every day. I honestly couldn't think of anything else I wanted to do sexually… and then I met a young sailor, a young Navy officer named Aly. A sailor? So what else is new in the islands? lol
Ok everybody, now it is your turn to chime in. What was something you did that was outrageous? You can supply your own definition of the word
(curtsy)
Tallie
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Life in the Vegas Lane #2
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Posted:May 3, 2021 11:45 am
Last Updated:Nov 11, 2021 11:05 am
5189 Views
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Hi again This is Tallie, and this is my second blog post.
I am always curious about the different perspectives of different people on many subjects, but especially on sexuality. I have a question that I would like to ask those who might know the answer(s) from their own perspective. Read on as your time permits, and at your own risk and expense. LOL
When I was a little younger before I became a semi-professional entertainer I worked in various clubs, which was mostly when I was in college as a typical starving student. They were mostly clubs of the T&A kind. For a little while I was a T&A waitress, which only means a 13 inch shorty short skirt with a braless, really tight tank top (visualize pointy points and lots of side boob). After that I went live on stage for awhile doing the full meal deal, and after that I discovered I was talented enough to get a job entertaining on the cruise line circuit as a hostess and announcer/entertainer. After that I made a connection and became a semi-pro entertainer with a male partner (after the girl group I was in failed). My partner and I were a singing duo that had some success for awhile, and then I met Mr. Right who became my Mr. Wonderful, and still is five years later.
During the early part of my T&A club time I made probably more than my share of the total club money girls were making giving lap dances to men, and in my case also to women. I didn't mind doing that at all. I am a people person, I generally like people, both men and women, and I am always so curious about what people are thinking about their own sexuality, and how they may relate to my sexuality.
Lets be honest, and lets face it, being a topless dancer, or a full meal deal stripper… is a job. It is a job that makes money that hopefully pays the bills, and for many of the girls that I knew in the business that is all it was to them. They felt no interest or excitement about the job that usually paid quite well if they were talented enough to make the money, and they did not care about the customer they entertained. That is not the way it was for me. I enjoyed making the money, that's why I was there, but I also enjoyed the personalities of the customers, if they had one. Some of them were just blah blah blah, but that is no different than the way it is out in society anywhere. I very much enjoyed meeting the customers who had a personality for whatever type they were, and some of them were good, and some of them were not. Some of them were genuine bad boys, like outright criminals, white collar thieves in their business, and some were total creeps like drug dealers, and some of them were just James Dean style bad boys… that turned me on more than I should admit. There were also the good guys, the nice guys who would never hurt a fly, and I liked them too. Sometimes, not all the time, but sometimes I met men in the VIP areas who were willing to talk, to make friends, and those were the guys I liked the most, and sometimes those were the guys I would go out with later in a much more private way… to pick up where we left off in the VIP area.
So I am curious, and I have always wanted to know… the male version of the general club experience that men have at the T&A clubs, the jiggle joints, the girlie bars where T&A is on the menu for a $20 bill for a three minute song, or at the classier clubs with the VIP areas that can be QUITE expensive. Bear in mind most places do not allow an exchange of bodily fluids, so the sex is not exactly complete, but a lot of guys do get off in VIP… just like I did with them many times although I didn't always allow them to know that even though I wanted to be honest with them, and sometimes was. (Visualize the most sensitive nipples on the planet, and not kidding either. LO
So if you would (please) respond to this blog, and tell me… on a scale of 1 – 10, or any other way you would wish to make a statement… what is your general impression of the club girls of your experience?
Do you feel that most of them were honest with you?
Did they allow themselves to get off with you?
Were they in general good people? Or were they only actresses trying to make money? What was the BEST experience?
What was the WORST experience?
Did they ever go out with you?
What was the most you ever paid them in a VIP area?
Are you a frequent club flier or one of the club Groupees?
Did or do you have a favorite, or two?
If you can say so… where was the best club you have ever been in?
Tell me, tell me, tell me This former T&A dancer wants to know because I still love to visit the clubs whenever I can
Thank you
xoxoxo
Tallie
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To link to this blog (AlyTal) use [blog AlyTal] in your messages.
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