Read This Before Going On...

28 January, 2020

The end is NIGH and YOU ARE FUCKED - A Dr. Bourbon Apocalyptic Missive...

We’ve all seen the movies – first it’s one guy, then ten, then a thousand, then BAM! We flash-forward five years and we’re told through various cut-scenes and flashbacks how the world ended while the hero tries to score some gas out of a dust-covered SUV in the city.

Well, fuck a lot of that! 

You want to know what truly frightens me about the news and the world lately? What keeps me up at night once the kiddos are in bed and I’m out of alcohol?

 Four words:     

The Wal-Mart Parking Lot.

Yep. That’s it. That’s why I am scared to death of Corona Virus, Ebola and/or any disease, super-flu, cold, epidemic, pandemic or any other word that the news media can throw around in sound bites to frighten people.

Why? Why does this make me quake with fear? I shall tell you, good reader.

Today it is raining. It is cold, wet and miserable outside and I needed to stop by the Wal to get some fixins for tonight’s dinner – and oh, sweet mother of fuck! I was faced with Wal-Mart’s parking lot. Carts everywhere – people parked in the walkway so they could load their groceries without getting wet – going up the down aisle - cats and dogs LIVING TOGETHER!!!! Mass hysteria!  

And that’s just because of the minor inconvenience of rain… just some water falling from the sky.

Now – imagine if you will an ACTUAL emergency! 


It would be every man for himself – I would fully expect to see old-west style shoot-outs in the parking lot over cases of water or surgical masks. People are assholes, man. And nowhere in America is that more obvious (other than Twitter that is) than Wal-Mart. 

If I cannot expect a man to walk 20 feet in the rain to maneuver a shopping cart out of the way of other would-be shoppers because it is raining – how can I even THINK about expecting him to wait patiently for a vaccine during an epidemic or nationwide crisis? Stand inline for water or rations during an emergency? FUCK NO! Thank you very much!

This is ‘Murica and I take what I want!

I do think that, for the most part, people are wonderful and will do what’s right – but then again, the mob mentality and the seriously overwhelming sense of “Mine” in this country make me very much fear any sort of disaster that lasts longer than a few weeks.

I hope I am wrong, I really do – actually, I hope that I never get the chance to find out. But, in the case that things go south in a hurry – I hope people will remember to BE people. I hope they’ll remember that we are, in fact, all in this together.

So… with that being said - Put your fucking carts in the cart corral, people. Quit being selfish dicks!

The end.

14 January, 2020

Dear Internet... WTF?

Dear Internet,



In the past year of having the Dr. BourbonSex account - I've tried to really open up and lay it all out there. Bare my soul as it were... I've tried to be 100% honest on my thoughts, opinions, and feelings about pretty much everything. I've tried to be a decent human being. I support everyone in their own activities and actions as long as they don't hurt anyone else or infringe upon others basic human rights.

In that same year - I've been monogamy-shamed for loving my wife and not wanting to have threesomes. I've been called a patriarchal sexist asshole because I didn't like the Captain Marvel movie. I've been told that I'm an ableist because I want to get healthy and be able to run a mile without dying at the age of 45 - and I'm fucking over it all.

So - someone help me out here... what the ACTUAL fuck is wrong with people?

When did we all become so vile and hateful? When did we all go from supporting everything to supporting everything, but only so much as it relates to me? Fuck that noise.

I've only blocked a few people on this account... one was a weirdo asshole who was a massive MAG-Hat wearing douchebag. (Wrote a blog post about it here) But everyone else pretty much got a pass. People are allowed, even encouraged, to have different opinions. Jesus, that's what makes the world go round.

I've muted a few accounts... but that's mostly out of a desire to NOT see giant dicks on my twitter feed while I'm at work. Timeline dick-pics are STILL dick-pics people. And that's it.

But no longer.

Going forward, my ban-hammer will be strong and swift. I'll come down on you like Thor going after Thanos' head at the start of Endgame.

I've got enough of my own insecurities and anxiety issues that I don't need to deal with yours. Unfollow me if you want - I won't care. There are maybe... 20? Yeah... about 20 people on my twitter timeline whose absence would actually bother me. Everyone else is a fucking stranger, and I can do without being judged by your strange, personal qualms with the universe.

If I use the wrong pronoun - it's not an attack on you. I probably just didn't know. Please see that above bit about how you're a stranger. You can't expect me to know your life story via Tweets. So if I slip, take a moment to kindly suggest corrective action before running off at the mouth about how I've negated your personhood on accident.

I try to be a good person and to love everyone. I rarely speak with malice (unless I'm talking about Debbie... FUCK Debbie) so please ask yourself, "Is Dr. B really talking shit about me?" - the answer is probably a resounding "No."

And with that - I'm off. Today has been far too much for me to keep giving a fuck.

Have a lovely Tuesday!

-Dr. B

02 December, 2019

Reviewing Books and Pushy Authors...

Today, I'd like to talk to you fine people about the dreaded book review.

Book reviews can make or break an author. They can showcase the work of someone by telling others how much they liked or disliked a book and for what reasons. But everyone (at least in some writing communities... looking at you, Twitter) seems to think that anything below a 5-Star review is some blight. Some people think a 3-star review will sound the death knell for any aspiring indie-author. And that's just ridiculous.

Writing a shitty book and publishing it is the death knell for indie-authors... Your 1st draft should NOT be your finished product.

One of my all-time favorite books ever written has 248 1-Star reviews, 277 2-Star reviews, and 271 3-Star reviews on Amazon... Shocking, right? This book also has 1,608 5-Star reviews and a movie based on it that has a similar distribution of reviews.

Because of the new "EVERYONE IS PUBLISHING!" world of writing, we all thrive to have that solid 5-Star rating. We ask our family and friends to, discretely, leave reviews that tell the world how great our books and stories are. We build up "Street Teams" or whatever they're called these days... and we try to send legions of rabid fans to Amazon to flood our work with 5-Star ratings to get us all the way to #1 in our given genres... They're all "GO, MY MINIONS! LEAVE ME GREAT REVIEWS!!!" - And, this is just me being honest here, I think that cheapens things a bit. I get it. You're trying to make money. You're trying to be a brand or get a name for yourself. We all are. But, Jesus, do it by writing quality content and letting the readers decide.

If I leave a 4-Star review, I don't hate the book, or the author, nor do I have something against the author as a human being. I will most likely re-read that book and recommend it to other people.

If I leave a 3-Star review, I don't think the author should be upset by it... I still enjoyed the work. Just not as much as some other things I've read.

I, personally, won't leave a 1 or 2 Star review on a book.

Why is this an issue? WHY am I writing about this?  Well, I recently left a 4-Star review for a book. And the author asked me, "Why not 5?" -- and he asked this not in a "I would like to understand and improve my craft" way, but in a "What the fuck, dude?" way. And that rubbed me the wrong way.

I owe you, the author, NO sort of explanation.

I am a consumer and you have released a product to the world. It is up to me to decide where this product sits in my "pantheon of reviewed items." Your book sits on my 4-Star shelf. It was good. I liked it a lot. I will re-read it at some point and I've even recommended it to people ALREADY! - but since you're being a passive aggressive shit about the number of stars in my reviews - I'll probably be recommending it a lot less now.

And this - is how I would breakdown book reviews and the "star rating" system...

1-Star should be used for books that are poorly written with typos and bad grammar. It should NOT be used because "Well, I don't like the F-Word." - THAT is personal taste. Not a review. We've all seen these reviews and these people are trolls. They can get fucked. (I will NOT leave a 1-Star review)

2-Stars should be reserved for books that were okay, but not stellar. Books that won't be re-read in the future. (I will NOT leave a 2-Star review)

3-Stars should be for books you like. And may re-read at some point. Books that you enjoyed reading and were well-written. You should say WHY you liked the book and WHAT you thought could be improved upon in your opinion.

4-Stars should be for books that you would most likely buy in two different formats. Something that you will absolutely read again and recommend to other people. You should go out of your way to explain to people WHY you liked this book so much.

5-Stars should be for the books that evoke emotions within you and make you want to be IN the book. 5-Stars should be "I want this book signed and on my bookshelf forever!" You should do your best to explain to the reader WHY they need this in their life.

So - there you have it. Dr. Bourbon's guide to reviewing books.

04 October, 2019

Anxiety and the inability of action

Let us, once again, discuss anxiety. The fun, paralysis-inducing anxiety that we often don't see and can't feel until it's too late and we end up fucking ourselves because sometimes a thing seems so fucking big that we don't know how to tackle it... so it grows and grows and we keep ignoring it... then it all comes falling down and tries to drown us in the bullshit.

Because, you know, that's fun!

In this instance - I'm talking about debt, finances, and, most importantly, student loans.

Lady Bourbon and I live comfortably. Not like SUPER comfortably, but we get to go out to eat from time to time, our bills are generally paid on time, and we have some stuff set aside for an emergency. But, like many Americans, we are one serious illness away from probably being homeless. And, for that at least, I blame the American healthcare system and insurance companies. Unless we happen to become millionaires overnight - this will probably never change.

Student loans, on the other hand... fuck me.

Lady Bourbon does not have them. But I do. I have a lot of them. My first couple of years were at a private college with $24,000/year tuition. I had a scholarship - but not for $48,000. Then, I joined the army and did all that shit and was told I'd get "student loan repayment" as part of my incentive. What they did NOT tell me, however, was that said repayment was for "pre-existing loans" and they "had to be from a State College or University."  So that $48,000 tab I ran up... still a thing.

But let us fast forward many years where I've been putting my loans on forbearance  or paying the absolute minimum possible just because I didn't want to fuck with them. Then, I get a nice "payment holiday" for a year and they are forgotten completely.

Then... I get a letter with the words "defaulted" in the title.

And I'm terrified.

I made the calls, I've got the forms, but I just keep putting it off like some magical thing is going to come down, do it for me, and life will go on. I get absolutely frozen with anxiety and fear about this shit. I don't know how to handle it. What if I send this paperwork in and they're all "Sorry, dude. Your new payment plan is $600 a month." - because that would probably fucking kill me.

The bigger problem is that this anxiety also trickles down into other things and in other ways... I focus on stupid shit and things that matter pile up. Did I pay the gas bill last month? I don't know. I haven't seen a disconnect notice. What about cable? Surely I paid the cable bill... right? They all become an "oh, fuck, am I completely screwing everything up?" pile of anxiety. Then that ball rolls and rolls and rolls until one day I declare "Okay, I will fix this shit!" And I start making progress. I double-check the bills. I set up auto-pay on some of them... but what if we have a short month and the auto-pay fucks us? Better not do that... surely you'll remember to pay it... right?

So I've got a notebook and a pen on my desk today. I'm calling Nelnet and Naviant. I've caught up the bills, I've put things in place... and I'm trying to not freak the fuck out about being poor. Or poor-er than we are...

On top of the crippling anxiety that comes with facing your failures in life - comes the "let us just drink at night and forget about our problems in hopes that we can sleep." So I drink more. I eat bad food. I smoke a LOT of cigarettes. Why? Fuck if I know. Something about dopamine and the brain... When I get super anxiety-filled... I just want to eat, smoke, drink, and fuck... Because this causes my brain to excrete some tiny chemical that pushes back at the anxiety and allows me to go one for just a little longer... to just eke-out another day of existence before accepting the shit decisions I've made and having to face the fucking music...

There you go, dear internet... Welcome to a small glimpse into my anxiety nightmare for the time being.

On the bright side - it's all being dealt with at the moment... How well and how long remains to be seen.

23 September, 2019

So let's do it like they do on the Discovery Channel...

I got this question posed to my by the lovely A.J. Bass (@AnjikoZ) on Twitter the other day and, well, by golly, let's give it the proper love and respect this subject matter deserves, shall we?

The original Tweet reads:
  • My so called best friend decided to be a judgmental bitch today. She actually told me that daddy and I should not be having sex in our home (even though kids are fast asleep when we do). All because the way we have sex is like a porn. Now that I'm writing this it's kinda funny.

Leaving aside my issues with calling your sex partner "Daddy" - let's take a look at this.

In our house sex is sometimes soft and gentle, sometimes loud and adventurous, and sometimes quick and dirty. We use sex toys, we occasionally watch porn, we come up with some strange positions so we can both see the tv and get off at the same time.

Shit - last night we did all of the above. 

Let me rewind a bit... I got a text from Lady Bourbon asking "Wanna get naked and watch hentai tonight?" - to which my response was, "like you have to ask!" 

So - once the kids were tucked in and asleep, we got our fuck on.

The television was set to a rather scandalous hentai in which a demon lady feeds on the virginal energy of people in hopes of... something something I don't watch it for the plot. All I know is that this demon lady forces some dude to fuck his friends while other robed figures watch and occasionally participate. 

But I digress... The point is - the kids were asleep and we got busy. At one point, Lady B's legs were up on the coffee table while she masturbated and I stood over her and would put my junk in her mouth repeatedly. Then she reverse-cowgirled me to climax while we both watched the big scene on this show. 

She was spent, I was spent, we were both in need of hydration, and the couch cover needed to be removed and washed... It was awesome.

But some people seem to think this approach to sex is "icky" or "too much" and you should just stick to the missionary position, lights off, and pray to Jesus when you're done. 


Sex can and SHOULD be a contact sport. And, if you and your partner so choose, it should be adventurous... and in every room of the house. Why limit yourself to the same location, same position, same EVERYTHING every time?!? If you're married, chances are good you're going to be having a lot of sex with the same person for a very long time... it can probably get boring if you do the same thing day in and day out... 

When we first got married and moved in together - we had sex in every room of our townhouse. In our second house, we again did it in every room of the house.... shit, we've done it on a boat, under a boat in the water, on the back patio, on Lady B's sister's patio furniture... We've had gentle, "hold me" sex, we've had "wow, that was different" sex, and we've had "hurry the fuck up and end this" sex... And it's always good. 

If your kids see you having sex, in any position, why does it fucking matter? Humans have sex. It's what we do to procreate. It's what we do to release stress. It's fucking NORMAL AND HEALTHY and people need to understand this. I walked in on my parents a few times as a kid. I turned out normal. My parents had/have sex toys. I think knowing this is what has given me a great respect and healthy understanding of sex. As we all should try to have. 

So have sex. Have fun sex, dirty sex, porn-star sex... and don't be ashamed about it. We have a serious LACK of sexual education in this country and that leads to problems. Raise your kids to be good, decent people with a healthy respect for sex and their sexual partners and everything will be golden. 

So - there you go, AJ. I hope I've answered your question in a round-about way. Make your house look like a Jackson Pollack painting under blacklight and explain to the kids that "well, sometimes mommy and daddy like to get their freak-on."

16 September, 2019

Rubbing One Out At The Office

Rubbing One Out At The Office

A @BourbonSex Short Story

He sat as his desk contemplating, not for the first time, just getting up and walking out. This was the kind of office environment that just sucked the very joy from life. And here he was, again, looking at a Monday of pure hell.
          The morning's meetings had all come and gone. Shitty lunch had been eaten. Now he sat, poring over bullshit emails and hating his very existence. Debbie had been in the office not once, not twice, but six fucking times to tell him of her family woes of the weekend. He didn't care. He just wanted to leave. His head ached. He was grumpy. Life sucked - pure and simple.
          As he entered another email address into his address book he sighed. Nothing would make this worthwhile.
          Or so he thought.
          His phone chimed and he looked at it. The notification said, "image." He leaned back and his chair and swiped it open with his thumb. He sat and watched as the screen changed into the smiling face of his wife. There was a pillow tucked behind her head and smirk on her face. Her bare shoulders stood out against the stark, red blankets of their bed and slowly gave way to the gentle, slope of her breasts.
          Another chime and a text message popped up. "Thought you could use some cheering up!"
          Another chime.
          Another image.
          And another.
          And another.
          Soft skin, pink nipples, and a smile. The camera moved lower with each chime until at last it revealed her hips raised and two fingers spreading herself for the camera.
          Another chime - another image.
          Two fingers inserted between her thighs in the foreground of the image, head tossed back in ecstasy in the background.
          He swiped back and forth between the images, feeling the blood rush to his face and beyond. He glanced up to look around and make sure he was alone in the office. He swiped again and watched the progression of images and text slowly revealed the body of the woman he loved in full color. He felt his pants begin to rub against him as he sat. His erection was coming on in full force.
          He got up from his desk, walked to the private restroom down the hall, and locked the door behind him. His pants were barely unbuttoned before he had himself in his hand, stroking back and forth at the picture of her spread wide for the camera.
          He finished in a muted grunt and a spray of semen.
          He stood, panting in the closed men's room. His phone in one hand, his shrinking erection in the other... and a smile on his face.

12 September, 2019

The duality of being me...

It's been a while since I've written anything longer than a Tweet. It's been a while since I've opened up my brain and let the words pour out...

I feel like doing it today.

Something about this time of year, almost every year, really fucks with my brain. Like, in a big way. I will bounce wildly from perfectly happy to uncontrollably fucked up. And it sucks. It's also when I'm at my... uh... most Bourbonness? I should explain that.

I am very much two distinct people residing within the same body.

I am me... and I am Bourbon.

The normal, everyday me is reserved, cautious, anxiety-filled, and seemingly normal person. I try to watch what I say around others, I keep my thoughts to myself, I interact with people at work whom I despise because it's easier than finding a new job... shit like that. I am guarded on what I say... I try to calculate the best thing to say on tweets, facebook posts, etc... I'm very unassuming.

This is the face I wear in public...

But I am also Bourbon.

This may seem silly to you all, but hang on and I'll try to explain...

One night I was talking to Lady Bourbon and I mentioned a post on Twitter and she replied with, "You or Bourbon?" - and that hit me. Because Bourbon IS me. I am Bourbon. But I tend to only let Bourbon out of the bottle here on my blog or Twitter where I am unknown. So I can see why she said this thing.

The Bourbon-Me generally doesn't give a fuck. I'll say what I want. I'll write smut. I'll talk about all the things I'm not "allowed" to talk about in polite society. I take sexy photos of Lady Bourbon and we have kinky good times in the bedroom... and the living room... occasionally the kitchen... maybe a bathroom at some point... most assuredly the playroom. But I digress... The point is - I wish I could be Bourbon full time. I wish I could not give a fuck. I wish I had the confidence and "no fucks given" attitude that I have here, in the safety of internet anonymity.

But life doesn't work that way.

I have a job. I have a family. I have an obnoxious mother-in-law. I have PTA bullshit... or will have I guess when the kids are a little older. And I can't relearn 40+ years of learned behavior. I mean, I guess I COULD, but am terrified of doing it. I'm terrified of just "letting go" and "being me" out of fear of losing my job or my kids (all worst-case scenario shit - which is my anxiety dual-wield specialty).

I'm so trained in this way that I don't really talk about my anxiety, PTSD, etc on my "normal" accounts all that much. I have no problem sharing on Bourbon because, well, nobody's going to call me out at work for it or other strange shit.

Lady Bourbon and hentai.
I try to talk about Lady Bourbon about this - but she's a fucking rockstar and I don't think she can comprehend this at some levels. She is who she is and that's fucking it. I, on the other hand, was the youngest of 14 in my family (including cousins) and I was always present for the jackassery, but not allowed to participate in it... stuff like swearing, sex-jokes, etc. So I internalized it all. I still do at times. Not her, though, she blazed her own trail and still does. She says what she wants to say and does what she wants to do. I envy her for that. I tend to be overly cautious and second-guess myself all the time. Bourbon does not. Bourbon says "Hey, fuckers, this is me!" - but only because none of you know who I am.

There are two very real, very distinct personalities in me and I want to somehow merge the best of both... but I don't think that's possible. But around this time of year... the Bourbon side seems to come out a little more. I get more sexually aware. I start craving things that aren't the norm. I start having vivid sex dreams and I want Lady Bourbon to do some really sexy things to me/for me... It'll last for a month or two, then slack off... then build back up... then slack off and then it goes away for a while - You'll note that I've not written smut since fucking MARCH... Maybe it's the Winter me? Who the fuck knows. Sometimes it makes me feel like Elsa from Frozen... Trying to wear gloves and conceal that shit, yo...

The point is - I am me... but sometimes I feel MORE like me. And I wish I knew of a good way to mesh the two and become someone else...

So this has been my rambling, what-the-fuck moment for today.

Happy Thursday, fuckers!

Smile for anime butt!

28 May, 2019

Dr. Bourbon and the League of ANNOYING-ASS PEOPLE!

Today in Bad Advice with Dr. Bourbon our question comes from Twitter user, @HeartOfAutumn

She asks:

Dear Doctor Bourbon,

How do you deal with annoying people? Which, to be honest is a vast majority...

06 May, 2019

The Endgame SPOILER POST!!


So - I finally saw Endgame. I was not emotionally prepared to see Endgame... but, that's because I avoided spoilers. For which I am SUPER happy about. 

But the movie has been out for over a week now and I'm just itching to talk about it... so here we go. 

FIRST - I loved the movie. That's not to say I love every second of it... but in the end, the FanService paid off and I was an emotional wreck.

So I'll start by getting the things I didn't like off my chest... 

The first half of the movie bored the shit out of me. Well, okay, not the first half... I loved the first 20-30 minutes. But then all of the time traveling to the other Marvel movies so that everyone could see where they came from and get closure by talking to their lost loved ones kind of dragged on a bit. Yes, it was nice, especially given the end... but still... a little much. 

Then there is Thor. 
Thor at the beginning of Endgame was perfect. He was fighting with real emotion at what had happened and was clearly walking the edge of the darkness that comes with PTSD and tragedy... but, instead of using that... they decided to make him a drunken frat-boy with a beer gut. This bothered me more than anything else in the entire Marvel Cinematic Universe. 

Later, back in the battle - he became his old self again, but I am so very disappointed in how he was handled overall. Couple that with the dual-wielding of Mjolnir and Stormbreaker at the same time... whoo, man... that was pretty great. 

My only other complaint was this one scene... 
And it's not so much a scene as a snippet. And, while I LOVED what they were going for... It felt REALLY heavy-handed. For one thing - Hope is supposed to be in the van helping Scott fix the quantum generator or whatever... and suddenly she's here? With literally EVERY other woman in the MCU?  What are the odds??!!  Why couldn't Captain Marvel get the Gauntlet and make her way THROUGH the field, with each of these characters jumping in along the way to make it more fluid and less "HEY WE HAVE ALL THESE WOMEN BACKING UP OUR ONELY FEMALE LEAD!" I understand that Carol is new to the MCU and could've beaten the shit out of Thanos and they needed to keep her busy... which they did just fine... but this scene felt so forced that I almost rolled my eyes. 

Other than that... I'm golden. Because - let's face it - they took the characters and stories from 22 movies and piled them all into one, 3-hour-long story that gave us closure, changed things up for the future, and possibly re-wrote part of the MCU's history giving us more options... such as Loki escaping at the end of Avengers 1 with a Tesseract. BOOM! Hello, Loki-themed TV show. 

I mean - I even like Gwyneth Paltrow... despite all her Goop-ness. Her armor and fight scene alongside Iron-Man was SWEET. She even felt like a much more solid character with her small roll in the overall film. She was a loving spouse and mother and Tony CLEARLY loves Pepper. And that's pretty amazing to see. 

And speaking of AMAZING... Steve Rogers becoming aware that he is, in fact, worthy. And then laying the fucking smackdown on Thanos with Mjolnir and lighting. I honestly got so excited at that I MAY have peed a little.

Other than that I found several overall character arc and stories to come home nicely. I LOVED Professor Hulk. His talk with "The Ancient One" was great. What could've been a needless foght scene actually worked out because people were able and willing to talk it out. I think it was just great. I also like Gamora switching sides when she finds that, in the future, she and Nabula are sisters simply because they left their "father". That was nicely done... and don't think I didn't notice that Tony's snap took away that Gamora. Tough break, Quill... 

Let's talk about that snap, shall we? - What an excellent way to end the tale of Tony Stark. He has had an amazing character arc over the last 10 years. He finally got to save everyone like he'd been wanting to do since the beginning. And, yes, I sobbed like a small child who just wants a cookie when that scene ended. And to have the kid from Iron-man 3 at the funeral - was a very nice touch. Especially since Iron-Man 3 is one of my favorite movies. 

Oh - and the Cheeseburger scene with Happy... JESUS... Just... too much.

My only questions are - now that Thanos died before Thanos actually killed everyone - did it actually happen? Doesn't that wipe out the timeline? What happened to all the people who, over the last 5 years moved on? Now they're faced with the lost ones coming back into their life all "Oh, shit... dad's back from the void... uh... meet new dad!" And who did Cap marry? Was it Peggy? Does that mean he just sort of disappeared when she got old and senile? Does he have kids?  WHAT THE HELL, man?!?!

SO - that's my thoughts. What do you think of Endgame??  Comment below and let me know.

30 April, 2019

Trouble With The Tradesman's Entrance

Saturday night found Lady Bourbon and me SANS CHILDREN!!

We sat and debated what to do for some time. We could go see Avengers and sit there for three hours - not a bad idea. We could go out to eat, have some drinks, and pretend to be regular adults for a while - also not a bad idea. OR we could get naked, watch some porn, and get a little freaky on the living room floor before going out for drinks and pretending we're adults... WINNER!!!!

Once the kids were safely gone and out of the house I retired to the shower, cleaned myself all over, and put on my sexy underwear - a black lace thing that makes my junk look HUGE... and my favorite skirt.

Then we moved some furniture, poured some drinks, and set back to get things going.

I'd already been sporting a pretty serious hard-on at the thought of not having kids... but now, as Lady Bourbon applied a nice, dark application of eyeliner on me, I was at "already ready to burst" levels. Me wearing eyeliner and black, lace panties has a rather curious effect on Lady Bourbon - and that is she gets SUPER wet. Like... Aquaman levels of wet.

And that shit is hot as FUCK.

As the show started we sat there, sipping or drinks and just "getting in the mood" as it were. Before long, her hand was slowly stroking me through the soft fabric of my skirt and silk... This had 2 results - 1: SO hot. 2: My panties no longer fit.... so they had to go.

She continued.

She wrapped my cock in the fabric of the skirt - it's soft, t-shirt material - and continued to gently stroke me up and down. Then I started rubbing her through her panties and stroking her nipples gently with my tongue from time to time. Our eyes both darting back and forth to the very lewd, very sexual animated porn on our television...

Lady Bourbon stood up, removed her skirt and panties, and returned to the couch next to me. She began rubbing her clit with her vibrator while still stroking me softly. It was amazing. After several minutes of this we moved to the floor, she flipped my loose skirt up, and climbed on top of me. She rode me and used her magic wand until she trembled with her first orgasm... I could feel her dripping down my balls when she finished. Which just made me want more...

There was head. There was rubbing, licking and touching... all the while moans of pleasure emanated from the television behind us.

Lady Bourbon took out the new toy... the blue, strapless-strap-on. She turned it on and a small gasp escaped her lips as the large, bulbous end disappeared between her legs. She stood, gloriously naked in front of me with a semi-realistic, vibrating cock... and I took her into my mouth and played with her lower half until she orgasmed for a second time.

Then it was my turn... and this is also where things got a little... hinky? Not kinky... hinky.

Turning me over, Lady Bourbon got behind me. Large quantities of lube were used... and her first attempt at "being on top."

Now, not being a life-long penis haver... the mechanics of what came next were a little awkward. Alignment, angle, positioning... She's not used to being an "outie" as it were. So there were some difficulties.

Not to mention the size of the thing - I was having some difficulties.

We decided to downsize things and go for Pinkie - the old standby toy... and after a few attempts and repositioning... she succeeded.

Let me just say this... There is something VERY intimate about this. About having your wife, your best friend, your lover, your everything... penetrate you and be in charge. There is something so... I'm not sure WHAT the word is exactly... but it was awesome. There is a difference in Fucking someone and letting someone FUCK you.... and that's what she did. It was awkward being everyone's first time and all - but oh so very sexy.

When that was done, she went down on me... then she rode me again... and in the end I came so hard I didn't want to move.

We kissed. We held each other.... we got a fucking towel and cleaned up the mess and we laughed.

After - we went to the bar and drank bourbon and Long Islands. We ate wings and chips and salsa. We went home and watched a shitty movie... and then we both slept with reckless abandon.

I love her. I love that she loves me. I love that we can try new things without fear or shame. I love that she gets turned on by me after 10 years, 2 kids, and a whole lot of life's bullshit. I love that she'll go out of her comfort zone to try new things with. I love that when she gets off, she gushes... I love that she loves making eye-contact when she gets and gives head. I love my best friend... and I love the way she loves me back.

It's my first day