The best sex I've ever had.....

Wow. You really are a pervert aren’t you? You sicko you… Hehe… Don’t blameya, I’da looked too…

So is this kiss and tell? Well… Mebbe… I mean shit, I’m much closer to dementia than virgin hood…. They’ll never know!

This was all brought about… yes… in the middlea computerized bowling not too long ago… Mikki… the GD barkeep… generally very PG… nice… complimentary… not daring at all… said.. “somea the best sex I ever had was when I was pregnant.”

One of the more disgusting chaps in our group (sorry) said “well, that’s because it was a threesome.”

When pushed, she backed off…. “I didn’t say THE BEST sex I’ve ever had.. I said SOMEA the best sex I’ve ever had.”

So, your mind is wondering… you’re thinking back… was it…. Were we… could it have been… oh I’ll never forget… I can’t believe that one time in… I’m so embarrassed to think about this, but yes it was when we…

Hey. It’s Ok. We’ve all been there. We all think back. No, we don’t dissect everything like the Fox analysts on an NFL football Sunday… but we do remember… we do recall.. We do.. Yeah we do - cherish what stands out…

Without naming names… sure… the first…. I was so in 16-love… and I will go to my grave loving her… When my ex rode off on the Harley, it was to reunite with her first… so I guess I understand…

Same chicky… Baccalaureate.. Outdoor party… In the country… abandoned house… (Cops came.. Shined lights… people pitched, threw, tossed 6-packs as far as an 18 yr old could pitch-throw-toss 6-packs… and the next day we collected 137 beers to tide us over for the remainder of the summer.. Hehe.) It was quite crowded… Like a SW Airline commercial.. “Wanna get away?” Uh huh… so we did… on the roof… please don’t tell no one…

Bed and Breakfast… I think it was Rocheport, Missouri, or somewhere thereabouts… It was onea the most fabulous weekends I’ve ever spent. We were “new” to that… We’d walked the Katy Trail… we’d drank wine at the winery overlooking the Muddy Mo (you forgot you were in Missouri it was so GD scenic)… we retired to the fanciest room of this fancy Bed and Breakfast… No details.. (frequent blog readers might remember) but, let’s just say it was a Jacuzzi with a blue light. The weekend, the relaxation, the place, and at that point in the relationship - the person. Twas heavenly.

I’d be remiss if I didn’t mention the good ole’ waterbed. I’ve slept in that puppy for 30 years now… It’s the SAME waterbed, when whatshername was Prego.. I usedta tease her in the morning when she wanted help getting out.. And I’d make her beg for like 3-8 minutes… hehe..

Let’s just say… old people should use waterbeds.. HEY, I’M OLD.. Yeah, but you ain’t gotta woman.. Oh yeah.. Sorry.. let’s just say, the rails, the baffles, the “for every action there’s an opposite and equal reaction” ß the waves.. Uh huh… Goodness if only that bed could talk it’d say “you didn’t get it very often did you old man?”… hehe… No, matter a fact I didn’t - but when I did… heavenly…

I’ve had stupid sex. I’ve had “it’s too GD early in our relationship sex.” I’ve had “mutually beneficial sex.” I’ve had sex alone. Oops, scratch that one.

All of the above instances… it wasn’t about the “oh baby oh baby”… the moves… the “My GOD I can’t believe you”… the way she twitched… the way she made me twitch.. The reverb of the waves… the firmness of a 20-something body… the looks… the dress… how long it’d been since…

It was all about feel. In all of the above instances, I remember great feel. Sure, there are more instances where I’ve experienced feel - but these came to mind first - and I’ve probably already bored you back to Chuck Shepherd’s News of the Weird (If I haven’t, you should check it out sometime.)

Sex isn’t about gymnastics. It’s not about the finest ass. The longest dong. The general public opine of the hierarchy of the one you’re with… It ain’t about ‘the Quest’… the conquer..

To me… it’s when the sex is secondary to the feel. Swear to goodness I can get just as turned on (if not more) by a wonderful makeout session as I can the act.

To me, it’s just as erotic to affix eyeballs as it is to affix them other parts. Honest. IF the feel is there.

Passion is very very close to feel. Not exactly there, but damn close. Feel is like being on the dance floor and not giving one thought to what people are seeing as you dance. Feel is intimate. Feel is private, dedicated to one. Feel is reciprocal… Feel rocks…

Ok… close your ears… one last instance of feel… I was on call at work.. We moved small items for the National Weather Service after hours… could be a problem with a weather station in Slidell, LA and we hadta get a 12 pound part there like yesterday to fix the problem.

I gotta call from “Que”.. the dispatcher of our local “hurry-up-and-go-get-this-crap” cartage company… He was returning my call on the specifics of a shipment I’d called him on 30 minutes earlier. In the meantime, “I-rode-off-on-a-Harley” got amorous… like all pigs.. I initiated everything mosta the time… but this time she had… Que called me as we were… u know… still kinda-sorta united… I was writing on the pad on the nightstand next to the bed.. We’d kinda-sorta ‘twitch’ every so often… as I hung up the phone with ‘Que’.. I said “love you.” Victor, you really didn’t did you? Sorry, I did.

May you have feel. My you one day go to a bed and breakfast with a blue light Jacuzzi, may you someday do it on a roof, may you remember back to your first time with great fondness..

I’m not real sure why sex, intercourse, feel, all that is so secretive, hush-hush, protective, private, et. al. I hope, as you read, you thought back to your “best sex I ever had.” Bet a nickel it involved feel. I feelya… Love, Victurd.