Sunday Morning

Nothing unusual or extraordinary to post, but the regular and ordinary are special enough. I have been up for some hours. The full moon over the terrain makes its magnificence known to those who appreciate it. Almost light enough to read text by its light. The bluish white glow reflected from Earth to us is a gift that comes once a month. This time it is once a year because of the alignment of satellites, planets, and stars.

I am a voyeur, but not an expert of astronomy. I take pictures when uncommon alignments of planetary and stellar objects present a view. I appreciate grand views, and this is one.

Speaking of grand views, my sweet wife provided one. I brought coffee and we shared. But all along I had this huge erection in support of the views that she sported. Damn, she is sexy.

My cock is sort of average even when it is big. But I subscribe to the idea that “It is not what you have, but what you do with it.” Damn, I can do a lot with it, given the chance. The little guy who was not little just would not go away. Seeing my wife by my side was an enhancement that fed back on itself.

One of my favorite plans is to press my face onto her side. The piece of anatomy between her breast and her hip on one side. No tit to suck, no clit to pleasure, no feminine scent to worship. Just a place where I can put my face and not be the slut that I am. Just appreciate the female beauty of her, and reaffirm my devotion to her. God, I love it!

All right, I am the slut anyway, for she could do anything to me and I would enjoy it. But then, that is not my fault. After all, I am wired to respond to her beauty, and could not do otherwise.

Problem is that things come up. I did not shave within a few hours, my nose is too cold, my hands are too calloused. Whatever. I hold back, she gets no pleasure, I get no satisfaction. Everybody loses. There are promises. We will see. I will shave, at least getting prickly whiskers out of the way.