Like a breeze

Quando passamos como esta
É como uma brisa de verão
que carrega o perfume
de um grande amor perdido


When we pass like this
It is like a summer breeze
that carries the perfume
of a long lost love

Guest Post - 15 words and a story

I asked a friend of mine to describe the "perfect fuck" in 15 words or less.  For the past few days she has been teasing me with wonderful combinations of words.  She also surprised me with a lovely vignette and has agreed to let me post it.

She currently isn't blogging right now due to some privacy and security issues, but hopefully she'll jump back in soon.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I took a late shower this morning because I worked from home - I thought of another 15 word perfect fuck whilst in the shower:

Leaning against the cool tiles
playing the hot jets on my clit
causing stunning climax.

******

Putting the toy to one side you kneel between my legs. You lean forward and lightly lick along the inside of my thigh. Your tongue circles and dances across my skin. You do the same to the other thigh, then your tongue wanders upwards until to comes to the point where my legs and body meet and you linger there, gently teasing with the tip of your tongue. You lightly flick your tongue across my ass and lick up around my pussy lips and back down but without touching them fully, just fleeting touches. Again and again you do it. I moan in anticipation of the moment when your tongue finally touches my pussy.  You are teasing me, pushing me to the limit.

And finally the tip of your tongue licks up and down my aching pussy lips. Savouring my wetness and taste. Your tongue teases my lips apart and probes inside me, seeking out my clit and you flick it, lick it and suck it. Drawing my pussy lips into your mouth you suck on them, your tongue still flicking back and forward across my now hard and tender clit. 

You can feel me moving against you, pushing into your mouth, as my excitement grows, my breathing is fast and rasping with little gasps as I respond to your tongue on my clit. You reach for a toy and apply some lube, letting the tip circle my clit before drawing it down beyond my pussy and further until it is against my ass where you move it in little circles around, barely touching me. Parting my legs wide you push the toy into my ass, slowly but firmly. I breath small shallow breaths relaxing myself to allow you to enter me, and then the toy is inside me; your mouth is working hard on my pussy and I can feel that sensation building.  My eyes close, my mouth open as sighs and moans of building pleasure leave them.  My hips are pushing into you, urging you on, desperate for you to bring me to the point of no return.  I am close, really close and that is the point that you lean back leisurely, smile, laugh that dirty laugh, and say "I'll be right back ...."

Sunday's Athiest

This last clip is funny, but to many, extremely offensive, which, of course, is why it's so funny

Saturday Simplified

I hate this saying.

I really hate it.

Now, I know that there are some people who have gone through horrible experiences and see every day as a battle for survival.

Friends of mine have been through things that would have killed me and I applaud them for getting by.

But, for most of us, this is not the attitude to take.

"Surviving" the day implies that you are the victim every day.
"Surviving" implies that death is but moments away.
"Surviving" means that you only have power enough to hold on, but not move forward.




Perhaps there are days like that, perhaps today is one of those days, but here is what we are going to do.



Survival is getting by, staying in place, and holding on.
Thriving is forward motion, positive choices, progressive decisions toward a goal.

Write down, blog about it if you want, 5 challenges in your life.
They can be big or small, long term or short term.

Pick three.
Some are out of your control for now, others will take more effort, but most days, three of the top 5 can be improved by a few simple actions.

1 - Write down the problem, the perceived cause, and the main actor behind the problem
2 - Write down a 2 line solution, high level, and when you want to reach the solution
3 - Write down (see a theme yet) three things:

• What can I do in the next three days to change or influence the cause of the problem?
• What can I say to the person/group causing the problem to make them understand the impact?
• What can I change within myself to lessen the impact, change my approach, or better my attitude?

4 - Of course, next, you have to take action on one idea that comes out of each problem analysis.

Just by taking the simplest of actions, just completing the questions above, help you see that you are not helpless, you don't have to "survive" the day, you can take action, you can change attitudes, you can understand the problem and you can move forward.


You have power.
You can take actions
You can make changes

Now go out and do it, and if you need more, click here click here for a better way

Have a good weekend.

FFF - 2/25/11 - Flowers in the forest

Only one today, unless the mood strikes as I ride home on the bus.
A big thanks to Lexi for keeping our dwindling numbers together.
We need more players, more fun, more writing, more amazing creativity from all of you.

Join in!  It's only 200 words....

"...[A FEELING] grew in her..."
200 words, exactly

She did not know how it had started or how long she had been there, or how long it had been since she felt the first change, but she felt stronger, connected, and a feeling grew in her of  life and flow.  The skin of her back still felt the rough edges of the bark where it  melded together, but the pain was gone and the tendrils of life blended blood and sap as one along her spine.

It was dark all around her but the sounds of the forest were stirring, in the early rise of the pre-dawn mist.  She no longer knew time or clocks but she felt the flow of seasons passing through her and her eyes had changed along with every thing else and she saw things differently now.

The shade of her skin was darkening again and she knew that it was almost time. In her previous, almost forgotten, form it was "her flower" but now the protective shell , the unfolding leaves, the stamen, buds and petals were a part of her.  It was a new reality and with a few light touches on the unfolding petals, she sent shivers through the entire forest.

 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Our numbers may be a bit off lately, but please visit our gracious host to join in .Visit him at http://insatiabear.blogspot.com/ to see who's playing along.  As usual, I've added some of the links from past players below.


Advizor:                  http://advizortoall.blogspot.com/ 
Aeon's Angel:         http://afreedomtosubmit.blogspot.com/ 
B. Tickler:              http://bumtickler.wordpress.com/
Big Geek:               http://getting-a-grip.blogspot.com/
David:                     http://dsinvegas.blogspot.com/ 
Dioneo:                   http://eccespanko.blogspot.com/
Dixie:                      http://dixiedukes.blogspot.com/
Drenchxoxo:          http://thedrenchedone.blogspot.com/ 
France:                   http://theworldbegins.blogspot.com/ 
Just a Taste:          http://sexandchocolatecake.blogspot.com/ 
Lexi:                       http://lex-ploits.blogspot.com/ 
Max:                       http://mystic-satyr.blogspot.com/ 
MarQe:                   http://marqe.blogspot.com 
Nilla:                       http://vanillamom.wordpress.com/ 
Oversexed Librarian:   http://oversexedlibrarian.blogspot.com/ 
Rozewolf:                http://wordwytch.wordpress.com/  
Scarlett:                  http://msscarlettletter.blogspot.com/ 
Selene Elpis:          http://seleneelpis.blogspot.com/ 
Sephani Paige:       http://sephanipaige.wordpress.com/ 
Snow:                      http://snow9.wordpress.com/
Soren:                     http://amorousdays.blogspot.com/ 
Spring Flower:       http://agirlsgottahaveoptions.blogspot.com/ 
Vesta:                    http://vestassubmission.blogspot.com/

I had a dream last night.

Full of details, faces, sights, smells, and sounds, it was a dream of a time and place from my past., A real place, a place I lived for many months, a place, perhaps, I never should have left.

I entered the village just as I had left it 20 years ago. Mortar marks on the stone walls and the desecrated stucco were as fresh as the day the bombs hit, leaving behind their grim reminders. Grass was growing between the bricks and the cobblestones as I passed under the arch into the town square. The Baker who showed me the ropes so many years ago was still there, just as I left him, with an arm full of baguettes though we were nowhere near France.

Children ran back and forth chasing a makeshift soccer ball as underfed dogs nipped at their heels. The high walls of the town square reminded me of the claustrophobia I felt every time I went to town. On the far side was Andre, at least I think that was his name, in this dream version of my old town it was hard to remember which parts were real and which parts were not.

It all seems so real to me last night. It was this it was as if I never should have left, that these phantoms from my subconscious made me feel guilty for leaving them for so long. I felt guilty, knowing that I had clean and running water in the real world while they languished in dreamland, devoid of the creature comforts of life. The sky overhead changed from sunlight to darkened clouds every few minutes. Old women would come out of their homes with loads of laundry when the sun came out only to scurry back in as the clouds threatened more rain. It was a long dream, one that lingered Inception-like, exponentially longer than my rational mind understand dreams to be.

We walked through the town as we talked about the past and my regrets for leaving grew stronger though my guide, un-named but recognized, gave me no reason to feel remorse at my departure. As will happen in dreams, we walked through a doorway and were onto a train. I remember most the sounds and smells of the train. I remember seeing my first goat on-board, chickens were plentiful of course, and at every stop the women of the villages swarmed the windows with fruit and cheap handicrafts, as if we were tourists passing through their squalor for the first time.

The dream continued apace, some parts real, some parts unwordly, and then I saw her.

I did not see her from afar. I did not see her approach. She was just there, in front of me, I swear to God it was real. She was in my arms and I was weeping.

I had no idea, I said, I had no idea you would be here. I held her tight in my dreams, feeling, for some reason, a warm denim coat between us. But then I remembered that I had left her in winter. I refused to let her go when she attempted to pull back, the tears were as real as any within a dream can be and my heart was breaking. I didn't know, I said. I never would have left if I had known.

I held her and she held me, and in the dream, I hoped I was forgiven.

Thoughts at a funeral.

I've been thinking about blog topics a lot these past few days.  I had gotten a bit ahead with FFF, and a couple of weekend posts, but Monday was last minute discovery and Tuesday I actually skipped.  That's not a big deal of course, but I've been trying to discipline myself to write a little something every day, even if it's not too serious.  I try to be a little entertaining however.  Sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn't.  (and strangely enough, the thought of missing 2 days in a row bothered me.  Hmmmmm)

Monday was "President's Day" here in the US, a Federal and State holiday and a floating holiday for my company.  Next year we will get off on Martin Luther King's day.  So I can look forward to that.

On Tuesday I went to a funeral.  (Collective sigh of concern).  No, it wasn't my own, (collective sigh of disappointment).  The services were for my friend's dad.  He passed away at 85.  Died in his sleep, cause of death?  Being old.  That's it.

I had only met him a couple of times last summer when he came to visit and some of the families got together for summer BBQs and the Concert in the Park series.  he was old when i met him so I missed him at his best, when he was, by all accounts, a master craftsman, fix-it guy, Model-T restorationist, a musician, harmonica player, magician, and story teller.

The service was nice.  We met at his church, sang a song I liked, but had never heard before, had a prayer, and got started.  A friend, a son, two daughters, another son, all got up to tell tales about dad's music, laughter, his love of cars and tools and oil rigs and fixing things.  Everyone cried a bit, but laughed even more, and that was a treat tribute to a life well lived.  If people can laugh more than they cry, you died at the right time with the right memories left behind.  We should all be so lucky.

On a lighter note, and much more typical of me, I noticed several extremely hot women in the pews and wondered what the funeral-home sex etiquette would be.  Do I let her stay in her black dress?  When I bend her over the casket should I do it at the feet or at the head so he can get a good look?  And don't get me started on his Grand-daughters, my friend's kids, HOLEY MAROHNEY, they are cute. Mostly redheads, but the youngest is a deep brunette with adorable eyes and they would all make a wonderful all-nude receiving line for grieving friends of the family.  At what point during the service would it be proper to whisper over to Patty and whisper, 'Hey, this eulogy is taking forever, how 'bout you and me get all squeaky-squeaky in the viewing room?"  Don't blame me if my thoughts were wandering, I love women in black and the final speaker went on and on about life and death and sin and redemption and while it was all lovely, I kept focusing on a few very specific sins that might be worth a little fire and brimstone.  Especially if she wore the little devil outfit I had in mind.

Anyway, this long and rambling post started off with thoughts of what to write about.  I've been bored at work and that is a drag on my energy levels.  I have some wonderful friends how keep me entertained with quotes and chats and the occasional picture, but in terms of blog topics I've been very diffuse.  Nothign seems to stick when i think about it too long.

I may bore you with some weight loss and fitness posts (again) but I'll keep those to a minimum
I could write more erotica, but my last piece got 0 comments, so, you know, thanks for sending me that signal.  I also got 0 comments on a slightly political piece and even one with a smoking hot internet model.  This is not to admit that I'm a total comment whore, really, I'm not, I promise, I (stomping my foot on the ground) only check comments once a day (ok, I'm a bad liar).  I have some thoughts on the power of sound and voice during sex and my growing love of phone sex.  I've ruminated on how the Internet changes  our vision of the "ideal" woman.  I've found a few funny notes for my Sunday Sacrilege series, and I'm constantly surprised and delighted by all the wonderful writing you all do on your blogs.

That's it, i promise not to ramble any more, but some days it's just that, a bit of thoughtfulness (the funeral), a little lust (banging at the funeral) and a whole lot of nothing.  To reward you for dropping by, I found two videos that I thought were funny.

Have a great Wednesday!!!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sometimes a video is just cute and full of beautiful women, and needs to be shared.




and, while I'm not a huge fan of Ellen, she's pretty funny and quite likable, and makes Jennifer Anniston make funny noises and smile.

Foolproof ways for preventing rape.

I am not the most politically correct guy, and I've pissed of some friends over the various issues to preventing an reducing sexual assault, but I think we can all agree that these rules are terrific.

Sunday's Sacrilege

 

Saturday's Simplification

Today, when you look in the mirror, I want you to list of 10 things, OUT LOUD, that make you worth following.  You don't need no freaking role model, no athlete should tell you how to think, no actress should tell you want to wear, no minister should tell you how to feel.

YOU are your best guide. When you've finished stating the 10 things that make you most awesome, write them down, type them up, put them on the fridge and if your slacker husband or snarky wife, or bratty kids ask you what they are all about, you tell them that you ROCK!!  That today, you will rule the roost as the King of the Courtyard (and yes, that's a mixed metaphor and I don't give a damn, because I ROCK!)

Now go out and have a freaking fantastic alpha-wolf kind of day, because, as you said your self.

I ROCK!!!

(of course, I mean by that, that you rock, but I wanted you to be saying it to your self, so the third person become the first person and, well, you know what I mean.)

FFF - Feb 18 - The Edge

115-148 words. "...poised on the precipice..."x

The precipice

She stands on the precipice

Alone, Bare, Unguarded

And I watch.

And do nothing. 

“Don’t blame me,” I shrieked, “Don’t you dare blame me.”

“But I did it for you.” Caught half-way between a sob and a scream she countered with her pointed finger.  “You told me you loved me!”

“I said no such thing.” It came out cold and hard.

“I did everything you asked me to do.”  Her chest heaved and her head rolled loose on her tired neck, “Horrible, dirty things.”  She cried and covered her eyes, grinding the heel of her hand into her bones. “What to you want from me?

I pulled my wrist out of her grasp, “Nothing.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

She stands on the precipice

Edging closer

She looks over the edge

And saw relief

“Don’t stop” 

I laughed at the urgency in her voice. “Why on earth should I keep going?”

“You bastard.”  Her voice was as tightly wound as my circling fingers.

I squeezed a little tighter and sent shock waves through her tender skin.

“Like that?” I asked? 

She nodded her head and tried to breath past the spasm in her throat.

I turned the vibrations up just a touch and checked her ropes, they were fine.

She began to tremble on her 4 inch heels, knees weak, mouth gaping.

Increased pressure, a move to the side, firmer,, and I saw her eyes open wide.

A noise, a distraction, “Oh look,” I said turning away, “My TV show is on.”

“Bastard!”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

She stands on the precipice

Leaning out, testing her weight

The bottom was a far drop.

Why are we here today?  Death asked.

I am alone and it is time to go – Said fair maiden

But why here? 

He first took me here, he bared my skin and crushed my heart;

He took me as a lover, when he was only a man.

And why now soft child? – Death asked

Because he is gone, and I am lost.

I have bared my self with too many in hope of finding him again.

Will the scarf be strong enough Death? To bring me to you?

Yes my child, Death answered, but the tree is weak and the drop is long, and you will be frightened.

She took death by the hand and was led away, “I do not want to be frightened any more..

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The precipice, the edge, the ledge, the view: Are we there for the view of as or for the launching point? Haven’t we all been on that edge at least once?  Many of our blogs are the evidence of time spent on that ledge, looking out at the wider world or gazing down, wondering whose car we can aim for.

We talk about living life on the razor’s edge, being on the cusp of a new day, girls are on the verge of womanhood, and women are on the verge of a nervous breakdown. We live life on the tipping point. We are one paycheck away from poverty, one illness away from disaster, one naked picture left on the screen away from a divorce. We live there, we camp there, and we setup up shop and pretend we are not one misstep away from annihilation.

So why do we stay so close to the edge?  Ahhh, the view is so pretty. We can feel the wind, our heart beats a little faster, our skin tingles a bit more, the sex is better, the sun is brighter, until our foot slips, and then……

As I wrote up this week’s vignettes, I flashed back to a relationship in the midst of its death throes. She was my first college girlfriend and she didn’t like my leaving.  The second one is pure fantasy, though a blogger friend told me that it was my responsibility to tease, so I put this in for her. And the final one deals with the final edge, the one we dare not contemplate.  Is death a friend or foe?  Do we take his hand or feel his blade?

When you live life on the precipice, you have to choose.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Panser is trying a new method of collecting writers for FFF.  Visit him at http://insatiabear.blogspot.com/ to see who's playing along.  As usual, I've added some of the links from past players below.


Advizor:                  http://advizortoall.blogspot.com/ 
Aeon's Angel:         http://afreedomtosubmit.blogspot.com/ 
B. Tickler:              http://bumtickler.wordpress.com/
Big Geek:               http://getting-a-grip.blogspot.com/
David:                     http://dsinvegas.blogspot.com/ 
Dioneo:                   http://eccespanko.blogspot.com/
Dixie:                      http://dixiedukes.blogspot.com/
Drenchxoxo:          http://thedrenchedone.blogspot.com/ 
France:                   http://theworldbegins.blogspot.com/ 
Just a Taste:          http://sexandchocolatecake.blogspot.com/ 
Lexi:                       http://lex-ploits.blogspot.com/ 
Max:                       http://mystic-satyr.blogspot.com/ 
MarQe:                   http://marqe.blogspot.com 
Nilla:                       http://vanillamom.wordpress.com/ 
Oversexed Librarian:   http://oversexedlibrarian.blogspot.com/ 
Rozewolf:                http://wordwytch.wordpress.com/  
Scarlett:                  http://msscarlettletter.blogspot.com/ 
Selene Elpis:          http://seleneelpis.blogspot.com/ 
Sephani Paige:       http://sephanipaige.wordpress.com/ 
Snow:                      http://snow9.wordpress.com/
Soren:                     http://amorousdays.blogspot.com/ 
Spring Flower:       http://agirlsgottahaveoptions.blogspot.com/ 
Vesta:                    http://vestassubmission.blogspot.com/

Cycles

I am watching less porn, and making more friends

I am running less, and lifting more

I believe in almost nothing, but have hope in almost everything

I'm on-line too much, but I'm not sure if that's going to change.

I have started enjoying the cyclical nature of life.  I am raising kids and working as my brother gets ready for retirement and is preparing for his 3rd wedding as "Father of the Bride (2)/Groom (1).  My nieces and nephews are having kids as my Father grows old and he watches the obituaries for pictures of his friends.  I do not enjoy death, or the loss of loved ones, but I fear it less than before.

With my writing I like seeing my follower numbers go up, but I know they go down too.  Attendance at my cycle class ebbs and flows, sometimes moving up for several weeks until, suddenly, I'm back down to 10 faithfuls. 

Friends come, and friends go as do their blogs and those that were once close drift off, or we leave them, and they are replaced as we are in their circle, now unseen.

Spring is coming to California as it is, slowly, to our snow-covered friends in the East.  Snow melts, lawns grown, flowers bloom, winter birds go north, replaced by their noisy summer cousins.  Winter coats move to the back of the closet while jackets and cover-ups come to the front, knowing full well that they will leave again as the summer ends.

Everything is a cycle, yet we feel so linear.  We can't go back, you can never go home, you can never put your dick in the same river twice (or something like that).  I've never had a birthday where the candle count went down.  I've never seen an old friend who is now young.  My bank account certainly knows only one direction these days.

I don't know what my point is, that's painfully obvious to anyone who's read this far.  I just felt like writing a bit, and this whole up and down thing is getting old.  I want more ups than downs.  That's all I ask. 



Image found on Suicide Blonde tumblr

What is beauty?

What is beauty?   

Is beauty a pretty face, a nice smile, flowing hair, nice skin?  Not to me, it’s not. To me beauty is living life to higher standards, stronger morals, and ethics and believing in them, whether people tell you you’re right or wrong.   

Beauty is not wasting a day.  Beauty is noticing life’s little intricacies and taking time out of your busy day to really enjoy those little intricacies.   

Beauty is being real, being genuine, being pure with no façade – what you see is what you get.  Beauty is expanding your mind, always seeking knowledge, not being content, always going after something and challenging yourself. 

Quarterback Jake Plummer as quoted in Sports Illustrated - February 14, 2011
about his friend, Pat Tillman

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Yes, what is beauty?   The Internet is full of examples of physically beautiful women.  With a few clicks you can find an endless supply, but what does that get you?  Well, for some it gets them off and that is all they need. 

But I've been blessed with many friends who posses a beauty of a different kind.  I have friends who are strong.  They have remained happy while in bad marriages, they have stayed positive in face of a world of negativity, they have found joy and gladness in the midst of loss and sorry.  I have friends who inspire me with their words of confidence and accomplishment.  They arouse and entertain me with words of love and lust and play and fun.  They are good parents when going it alone and they are good friends when I need a friendly face, a voice, an e-mail or text.

Physically my friends, my beautiful friends, vary widely.  From tall and rail thin to full-figured and sensual, they run the board and I will tell you, they are all very beautiful.  They have cute, happy, funny and sad smiles.  They have the bodies of real women, and they have done much, seen much, and can tell tales.  My friends are smart, artistic, loving, talented, hard-working, athletic, dedicated, and amazing.  

What is beauty?  I know, because I have seen it, and it blesses my life each day.

Pixie

.

She likes to feel small

She likes that I am taller than her

Not too skinny

A fan of the weight room and the dinner table.

She likes my weight upon her

Pressing her back

Deep into the sofa cushions.

I like her size,

it matches her voice,

cute, slim, light, airy, a pixie

who has discovered

what pixie dust can do.

.

Valentine's Day Bucket List.

I found this list on "The Stir" and thought it was good for Valentine's day...

Wishing you a long and interesting bucket list of your own...
 

Kiss a girl	Girl Yes, Boy, No
Have anal	Yes
Have a threesome	Kissing only
Engage in group sex	No
Have phone sex	Yes
Masturbate	Of Course
Use a vibrator	Yes
Use a sex toy on someone else	Yes
Be tied up	No
Tie someone up	No
Have sex in a public space	Yes
Be a voyeur and watch others having sex (live, porn does not count)	Not live, not yet
Sex in a car	Yes
Sex at a drive-in	No
Mile-high club	Only as a solo flier
Sex with a stranger	Kind of, she got off, I got off
One-night stand	Yes
Married sex (the best kind, in my opinion)	Yes
Sex on a boat	See “Sex with Stranger”  But dad was waiting for the boat
Sex in a body of water	Yes
Light spanking	No
Read erotica	Yes
Play strip poker/Monopoly/card game	Yes
Sex in the shower	Yes
Sex standing up against a wall	Yes
Sex with no kissing	Yes – cold sores anyone?
Sex in the pitch black	Yes
Sex in the broad daylight	I love my trampoline
Making out with no sex long after you're no longer a virgin	I with this would happen more
Sex in a tent in the wilderness	Tent in my backyard?
Watch porn together	No – She’d kill me for asking
Watch porn alone	Yes
Learn to give yourself multiple orgasms	Yes, but I get sore quickly
Sex on the beach	No – sand gets everywhere
Blindfolds	Not yet, but I have an unused one ready
Using ice sexually	No
Sexual role play	No
Whipped cream	Yes
La Perla lingerie sex	I wish I had the money
Frederick's of Hollywood lingerie sex	Yes, but that stuff is cheap
Sex with someone much older	I as 16, she was 24
Sex with someone younger (legal!)	I was 26, she was 18
Sex in a foreign country, possibly with a foreigner	Not yet, but I really want to go to Europe
A quickie in a skirt	She was wearing the skirt, not me.
A longie in the rain	We were under an awning, does that count?
Sex in the ocean while people swim all around you	Are you kidding?  Ever hear of shrinkage?
Feather ticklers	Nope
Sex while "altered" whether by alcohol or something else	I was in love, is that altered enough?
Learn to orgasm in less than five minutes from intercourse alone	YES, but I’m a guy, so that’s pretty easy.
Silent sex in a full house	YES!!!  The night before our honeymoon flight in my Mother-in-Law’s squeaky hide-away bed

How many have you done? And what's on your bucket list?

Just to prove that romance isn't dead...click here