OldTymHockey - Thoughts from the Couch.
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Posted:Apr 8, 2015 3:48 pm
Last Updated:Dec 10, 2015 7:11 am
5316 Views
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I'm here for an adventure away from the rigors of everyday life and a break from the mundane. While visiting FriendFinder-x, I'm hoping to meet and interact with members that have a similar lighthearted, open agenda...clothing and inhibitions optional.
I'll also take this opportunity to address male visitors to my site. I'm very straight with zero curiosity about my sexuality. My interests lie solely with members of the fairer sex.
A quick side note regarding a sad, recent current event. The passing of Leonard Nimoy has reminded me of a reliable thought process that has often helped to guide my decision making. No, it is not WWJD?...but rather, WWSD?. And yes, I do realize that Mr. Spock would not approve of my referencing the illogical emotion "sad" earlier in this statement. I have obviously not achieved Kolinahr.
Now, sit back in a comfortable chair, take a sip of your favorite beverage and read on. Learn a little bit more about me, based on the submissions, or omissions, that follow...unless of course, you just came here for the pictures.
As for me, I'm a hopeless romantic. I cry every time George Bailey kisses Mary at the end of "It's a Wonderful Life". To be honest, my eyes begin to moisten and swell the first time George and Mary's eyes meet across the dance floor. Luckily, I can convince people it's just my allergies acting up.
I prefer the JOURNEY to the DESTINATION, especially if I'm allowed to drive.
I'm a positive person. I always see the glass as half full, except when it really is half empty.
I believe that FORM does not have to follow FUNCTION...in perfection; they exist equally, as in a beautiful, intelligent woman...or a finely tuned, sleek formula race car.
My favorite part of the DAY is the NIGHT. Let the early bird have the worm. I'll enjoy an early evening filet mignon with a glass of wine.
I believe that LISTENING is far more important than SPEAKING...unless you're talking to yourself.
I believe that the EGG came before the CHICKEN, but the ROOSTER came first.
Since I've broached the topic of ageless debates, let me end another here with a factual, unwavering, and unchallengeable conclusion. It was, is, and always will be MARY ANN, not GINGER, as the hottest castaway.
Billy Joel has it right..."I'd rather laugh with the SINNERS than cry with the SAINTS".
For you English Lit. fans (yes, both of you), John Keats was also on point with his observation that "heard melodies are sweet, those unheard, sweeter". Ah, the boundless magic of the imagination. I find Keats' line much more subtle and socially acceptable than "I wonder what she looks like naked?"
I don't care what anyone says; I enjoyed WATERWORLD and THE POSTMAN.
I believe there was a second shooter on the GRASSY KNOLL. He fled DEALEY PLAZA and has been hiding with the aliens in AREA 51.
If given the choice between WIT and BEAUTY, I'll JOKE that I prefer WIT.
The parts of a woman's physical appearance that I'm first attracted to are her EYES, followed by her LEGS, and finally her BUNS. At the beach or a pool, I usually reverse that order.
Best fantasy inducing song... "Young Girl", Gary Puckett and the Union Gap, 1968..."And though you know that it's wrong to be alone with me, THAT COME ON LOOK IS IN YOUR EYES".
...See, It always comes down to the EYES.
Ever since my time attending art school, I've wanted to share something that I learned. The work of Jackson Pollock is NOT ART! That feels much better.
When I was a , I HATED texting. Probably because back then, "TEXTING" meant being forcibly dragged away from my pile of freshly opened toys on Christmas morning to take a stationary seat at the kitchen table. With pen and blank paper dispersed before me, I was coerced into writing a thank-you letter to Aunt Gertrude for the "wonderful" present (a set of pastel turtleneck dickies) that she had sent for my enjoyment. To this day, I can't remember which was worse; the present, or the letter writing.
I enjoy tender, loving sex with my partner; taking the time to ensure she reaches orgasm before me. Yes, it's true (I see you doubting me).
For now, I'll continue to meet new people and see where this road takes me, after all, I don't know half of you half as well as I should like; and I like less than half of you half as well as you deserve.
A tip of my cap to J. R. R. Tolkien. 
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The Cam Less Viewed
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Posted:Apr 20, 2015 10:52 am
Last Updated:May 18, 2015 1:05 pm
4201 Views
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The Cam Less Viewed
By OldTymHockey
(with sincerest apologies to the immortal Robert Frost)
Many cams diverged exposing naked wood,
And sorry you could not peep them all
And be one viewer, long you stood
And glanced as many as you could
Barren of undergrowth, straight and tall;
Then opened one cam, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because he wore bright casual wear;
Though as for that, the viewing there
Had made it seem anything but the same,
And all that morning many equally lay
In chairs and beds showing front and back.
So, you kept the many for another day!
Yet knowing how cams do not long stay,
Returning later would show screens of black.
You shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Many cams diverged exposing wood, and I-
I offered the one less viewed by,
And that has always made the difference.
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WWSD?
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Posted:Nov 5, 2015 5:55 pm
Last Updated:Nov 8, 2015 1:11 pm
2768 Views
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In my first blog post, "OldTymHockey - Thoughts from the Couch", I mentioned the passing of Leonard Nimoy who portrayed Mr. Spock in the original Star Trek television series. Spock has always been one of my favorite fictional characters, and in my blog, I pointed out that I often think 'What Would Spock Do?" as a method for straight forward, logical problem solving.
So, on Thursday, November 5, 2015, I'm sitting in my favorite recliner watching CBS's The Big Bang Theory, enjoying the geeky nerd banter. To my surprise, the character Sheldon Cooper explains how he had replaced "What Would Jesus Do?" with "What Would Spock Do?" when faced with difficult decisions.
My blog entry from April 9, 2015:
"The passing of Leonard Nimoy has reminded me of a reliable thought process that has often helped to guide my decision making. No, it is not WWJD?...but rather, WWSD?.
Sheldon Cooper's explanation of WWSD from November 5, 2015:
"As a , when faced with a dilemma, my mother encouraged me to ask, “What would Jesus do?”
The answer to that was always, “Love thy neighbor".
But my neighbor had a dead tooth, so...
that wasn't going to happen.
But...that's why I changed it to, “What would Spock do?”
When I was eight years old, Billy Sparks cornered me in the playground.
I asked myself, “What would Spock do?”
Then I grabbed Billy on his shoulder and performed my first Vulcan nerve pinch.
Did it work?
Oh, no-- he broke my collarbone. I can still hear it click.
That must have been very upsetting for you.
Oh, not at all. As I said, the entire point of emulating Spock was to rise above human emotion,
which I've spent a lifetime mastering."
I'm not alone!
If TBBT T-Shirts come out with the meme WWSD?...I want a cut!
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The Mirror Cracked
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Posted:Jun 29, 2015 11:55 am
Last Updated:Aug 5, 2015 6:30 am
4085 Views
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According to the definition offered by Merriam-Webster, a blog is "a web site that contains online personal reflections..."
In the spirit of offering up a few personal reflections to be gazed within a mirror held up by an adult "hook up" site, allow me to proceed.
While searching the internet for various routine topics, I do occasionally, and accidentally (yeah, right...) stumble upon a mature video site or two. During these visits, a couple of "activities" between a man and a woman have caught my attention and piqued my interest.
In one arrangement, a man is stripped naked and laid prone on his back on top of a bed. His legs are spread wide and his arms are outstretched behind his head. His ankles and wrists have been securely tied to the ends of the bed to ensure he remains in this position.
The woman, either clothed or nude (both scenarios have their own individual merits) is also on the bed, lying on her side next to the naked, bound man. She is stroking and fondling and sucking and tickling and kissing his exposed, growing erection; much to his delight. She is performing a sensual, multifaceted hand job, and her work ethic is astonishing. The bound man can only fidget with excitement. His hips and cock lurching up and down from the mattress in rhythm to each stroke of her hand, or caress of her lips.
After awhile, she looks up from her work to meet his eyes. The increasingly strained expression on his face and the quickening of his breath confirm to her that he is very close to offering up an explosive release.
He is struggling and pulling at his bounds, but he is helpless and caught. His chest rises and falls with each exhaustive breath he takes as the final moments approach. He pushes the back of his head into the soft mattress and slightly arches his back while intensifying the steady thrusting of his hips. She continues to stroke him at a quickening pace. "Oh yes, oh yes, like that" he whispers and moans, rolling his eyes upwards with intense concentration. "Oh, yes...oh, oh, oh", he continues, as his entire body stiffens. His arms and legs pull the binding ropes taught as his body coils with glorious anticipation. And that is her cue.
She stops. Stops cold and quick.
He moans and lets out a deep gasp. "No...Don't stop!" he utters with a panicked breath. She pulls slightly away from him and watches the growing agony of the denied orgasm displayed over every inch of his restrained, naked body. He moans louder. He grits his teeth as he twists and turns and squirms on the mattress, fighting to loosen the restraining ropes. His entire body is in a tight knot waiting to be loosened. His hips elevate and drop as he tries to push his erection toward her for the final stimulation he requires; no, that he deserves. He begs her to continue. She ignores his pleas and only responds with a gently curling devilish smile.
After awhile, or an eternity to the bound man, she touches his inner thigh and softly caresses his chest. Her touch causes him to quickly raise his hips from the bed. His cock stands at full attention waving in the air; a rock hard peg protruding from between his legs. Her fingernails scratch softly down the side of his exposed ribs. Her tongue gently circles his tiny and erect nipples. She nibbles his ear lobe while she softly breathes into his ear. Her hands wander his body, avoiding the area he is most wanting her to touch. He continues to twist in his ropes. His hips thrust towards her, hoping for the soft touch of a finger, lips or tongue to bring closure to the event. But the torture continues.
Finally, the time has come to grant his much delayed wish. She returns the focus of her attention to delivering the wonderful physical interaction that his engorged cock is craving. "Oh...oh...oh...damn girl....yes!" he exclaims as his cock slides up and down within her tightly wrapped fingers. Her tongue softly tickles the tip as it peeks out from her hand with each of his upward thrusts. She slides her other hand between his spread legs and under his balls. Her fingers slide between his ass cheeks where she softly circles and fondles his hole. While still stroking his cock at a furious pace, she ups the ante by sliding a finger knuckle deep into him. He clenches his ass tight around her finger and continues to pump his hips up and down. Sensing the approach of his imminent climax, she withdraws her finger from him. She slides her hand up the tender skin between his legs from his ass to his balls, which she cradles in her palm. With both hands in place, she gives a firm squeeze to his contracting sack and throbbing cock.
He explodes. A thick, wet and warm stream fountains out from inside her clenched hand. Arcing through the air, it lands with a splash on her chin. She slides her tongue across the pink skin at the tip of his cock. His hips quickly withdraw into the mattress in preparation for the next launch of ejaculate into the air. His body quivers with each fierce thrust of his hips as he serves up the overdue load in halting, powerful bursts. The viscous, salty fluid from his final, weaker releases leaks thickly from her hand. It streams down his bouncing balls to drip into a growing pool on the bed. "Oh, oh yeah! That's it, yes, yes!" he screams as his bound body finally relaxes and a wide grin appears on his face.
Act I ends, and Act II begins.
The man is still restrained and exposed, his penis now ready to recover from the satisfying delivery of his hot cum. Still semi-erect; the blood which it had collected within its girth to stiffen it for use is now heading elsewhere in his body. The area around and under the tip of his cock is a bundle of fiery raw nerve endings, sensitive to the slightest touch.
And the devil woman knows this.
She continues stroking and fondling and sucking and tickling and kissing his exposed, shrinking erection. He fights even stronger to escape the ropes that bind him; to no avail. The sensations produced by her cock manipulation are multiplied ten-fold in every area she touches. His now delicate penis was not ready for, or expecting, this extra activity. After all, it was usually time for a cigarette and a quick nap after the job had been done.
The man endures the sensation which is quickly expanding beyond the threshold of pleasure to the edge of sweet pain. A feeling similar to when a susceptible area of your body is endlessly and overly tickled. He tries to sink his ass and hips deep into the mattress in a failed attempt to pull his cock away from her hands and lips. Relentlessly, she continues to torture the raw skin piston after his orgasm is a distant, splendid memory. He squirms back and forth, up and down as she handles his over stimulated cock. The agony and ecstasy of the situation is plainly visible on his face.
And to his astonishment, from the base of his balls, he senses his cock beginning to harden once again.
So, two of my bucket list entries are...bound orgasm denial and bound post orgasm torture.
Wow... who knew blogging could be so hot. LOL.
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