I love shower sex. There is something wonderfully erotic and refreshing about sharing a shower with another person, or group of people for that matter. It doesn't even need to be about sex, though that's (obviously) a very nice extra. I love shower sex. And I also love shower intimacy. E ven if it doesn't end in sex, being close to another person and sharing the experience can be a powerful and erotic bonding experience. In our home we have specifically designed the showers to allow more than one person to shower at a time. In the master bedroom's bathroom the shower is so big it could hold three. (Even the bathtub is large enough for two...) But they so rarely have been used for more than a single person that it's a lost opportunity. Our guest bathroom - we have a section of the house set aside for guests and we frequently rent it out on AirBnB - features a dual-head shower large enough for two, and we like to think some of the people who stay

(Not me, but could've been) (My usual entries are about sexuality, my physical condition and other thoughts, but every once in a while I'm going to discuss incidents which happened in my life and changed/impacted my view of same. This is one such time, and though it may read to some people like a letter to Penthouse, it happened and was an eye opener for me in many ways.) By my third year of college I'd established a bit of a sexual reputation among my friends, though as a group we were all very active and open. Not a bad reputation. The opposite, in fact. Open to virtually all things and not shocked by much,  but also quite considerate of the people I had sex with. In the fall semester of that year a new student arrived in the dorms and was set up as a roommate for one of my regular group. At first we thought the woman - whom I shall call Mary in the time-honored tradition of naming any nun in a story "Sister Mary", although in this case "Mary&quo

(Pics, as usual, are not of me. Not quite ready for that. Maybe in a few months...) For the last few months I've been talking about how my weight loss and testosterone injections have impacted me from physiological standpoint. But as the weight comes off and my physical condition improves I'm also getting a lot more confidence and, frankly, physical coordination. (For example: As a long-ago dancer being fat impacted how I would assume my body would move. And as I'm losing the weight the damned thing is beginning to follow my instructions much more effectively. Who knew?) As my muscles respond - despite still being covered with a nasty few layers of fat - I am becoming more thoughtful about my physical appearance. By getting more fit and confident I'm caring a lot more how I look.  "Nah, I'll keep my clothes on..." It isn't that I didn't care while I was more overweight, it's that taking pride in my appearance seemed remote and unseemly. I wasn&

Had a bit of a revelation the other day and am just now getting around to putting my thoughts down in writing. All of my adult life (and a few years prior to that) I have physically been focused on sexual needs. getting off, for the most part. Fucking, sucking, jacking... On all of the 'ings' for that matter. My intent was to have an orgasm and give away as many to other people as I could. My physical conditioning was a major aspect of being seen nude. Anything to do with my body reflected in how that changed sex for me. It wasn't just about being comfortable in my body, it was related to how, sexually, it impacted it. And until very recently that was a downhill slope. But something very subtle has changed in me, and I'm not sure if it's since I restarted my metabolism or something that has simply been building for some time. I want physical contact, but, for me, getting off is now secondary to the physical touch. To being seen and appreciated nude,