Exercise
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Posted:Sep 1, 2016 5:48 am
Last Updated:Sep 2, 2016 11:14 am
23777 Views
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I'm in no sense of the word an exercise WONK but I've always believed in exercising, and try to do as much of it as possible without hurting myself, and without traveling to a gym... I certainly don't claim to be any expert about staying buff. I believe in doing exercising around the home and in the workshop and not in a gym.
I have nothing against gyms though, and if a man or woman wants to get their body in shape for the purpose of showing it off to other people, then a gym and a personal trainer would be the way to go. Personal trainers, and the specialized weight and stretch equipment in a gym, are probably just the thing to add a little bulk to shape the buttocks, or take off a little flab under the arms. And...about showing your buff body off to others? I think that's a beautiful thing to do. The human body is a work of art and there's no reason in my belief book why public nudity should enrage so many people the way it seems to.
Getting my thoughts back to gyms, the people in show business for example, have a job where not only gyms, and weight trainers are necessary but they also require hair stylists and probably somewhere down the road, a plastic surgeon or two. A score of other people get jobs helping them to appear as glamorous or as handsome and buff as possible.
The rest of us normal people aren't going to go to all the bother and expense of spending five or six hours a day trying to keep our bodies beautiful in the eyes of beholders..Marisol and I are just normal humans. We go nude around our place all through the hot weather. It's so normal for us, that we have to remember to grab something to put on if anyone comes by--which seldom happens in the summer.
Extra weight seems to be the thing that's becoming an epidemic in the civilized world. It seems ALL of us are doing things to shed a few extra pounds, and if we're not, we probably should be, even if we don't give a rat's ass about how we look to other people.
Nutritionists are starting to come up with the thought, and are finding some scientific evidence, that the epidemic of obesity throughout the Western World is being caused by MORE than just stuffing our faces and sitting too much on our fat butts. Extra calories that we don't burn off will of course add weight to our bodies but....
SOMETHING'S going on with our food and our water. The theory--and it's only a theory right now--is that chemicals are getting into our food chain and into the water we drink causing us all to get BIGGER even though we may be taking in the same number of calories as our skinny parents and grandparents did, years ago.
I'm old enough to remember the enormous helpings of potatoes and gravy, homemade cookies, cakes and pies, home baked bread loaded with real butter, and pot roasts, turkey, ham, chickens, and the huge feasts at Thanksgiving and Christmas and big meals every common Sunday...and yet...we were all skinny! I look through my old, fading pictures with Marisol, and she comments on how we were all skinny 65 and 70 years ago!!... We were all skinny!
So scientists! WTF? What is WRONG with this picture of NOW??
My exercise regime during the winter calls for enough heavy work to get sweating and stress all my muscles, but not to injure my back or leg muscles. Sand is very heavy and 125 flat-bladed shovels full of sand weighs more than a ton. More than 2000 pounds. That's enough weight to move from one place to another for my morning routine.
During the summer months here about the only outside exercise the heat allows us to do is walking early in the morning--before the sun us fully up.
Consistency shown to be the main method of staying healthy. Our bodies seem to thrive on getting up in the morning and going to bed at night at about the same time each day. Sleep is essential for our bodies to repair the little stresses of living.
Many people have problems sleeping soundly at night, I've never had that problem so I don't know what a solution of not being able to sleep would be. I do know that for me, 400 mgs. of magnesium Oxide taken just before bed, along with about 6 mgs. of melatonin makes my body relax and get ready for sleep.
Lou, Rags, and Marisol are waiting to take our morning walk..I love you all from thousands of miles away, and as close as Palm Springs and L.A. Thank you for coming this distance to my blog and reading the thoughts of an old perverted survivor of life...luv you all!
by david stardust...Thursday morning, September 1, 2016
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THE BUS RIDE
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Posted:Aug 31, 2016 3:18 am
Last Updated:Sep 3, 2016 2:35 pm
24059 Views
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I leaned over and spoke softly in his ear. "I'd like to lick that girls cunt and make her cum all over my toothless old face."
"Which one?" the young guy sitting next to me asked, "Do you mean the one in the pink shorts?"
"Yeah, I said, catching the smell of beer on his breath that I hadn't noticed before.
"Did you see her camel toe when she started coming down the isle toward us?"
"What's a camel toe?" he asked.
"It's where her shorts rode up into the lips of her cunt looking just like the foot of a camel. It gets my cock hard just remembering how that hot cunt of hers looked as she walked toward us."
The beer on the young soldier's breath; the fact that the bus had only about 8 other people on it (and they were up toward the front of the bus), and the fact we were seated together in the back by ourselves, gave me the opportunity to start making my moves. I reached under the stretch band of the loose blue shorts I was wearing, and started stroking my dick, which was already half hard.
The young soldier watched my hand moving under the material of my shorts with a smile on his almost beardless face.
I popped out the big head of my dick from the loose elastic band of my shorts and said," Damn! I really need to cum. Do you ever get that urge real strong sometimes?"
The young guy looked at me in a wide-eyed look of wonder, "Wow, man, you're too much Dude!" As he spoke his eyes were glued on my engorged dick.
The WAS young by my standards, but I don't want you to get the idea I pick up . This soldier was in his late twenties and had been married briefly to a woman in South Carolina (he'd told me THAT in Palm Springs when we were waiting for the bus to leave the station). I wasn't going to do anything to him he hadn't had done probably a hundred times before. When he first sat down next to me, he probably already guessed I was going to suck his dick if given half a chance.
"Hey, it's Okay, just be cool and we can whip off together." I said. "No one is even noticing us!"
I'd been talking porn trash to this young guy all the way from the Springs, where we'd both boarded the bus. We were starting up the grade toward Yucca Valley now. I sensed he was hot for it. His light tan slacks were tented and he was hiding his hard dick from me by turning out toward the isle of the bus.
I knew there was only about 40 minutes left in the trip. I needed to make my move even if this punched out my lights.
I'm a good reader of people. I reached over his leg that was against mine, and lightly stroked the bulge under the cloth of his slacks, and the jumped and let out a deep breath. "Jesus!" he said.
He didn't punch me, so I kept my hand on his dick, and gently turned the nice looking young guy toward me, while I searched for his zipper. He wasn't wearing any underwear, and when I carefully unzipped him, his dick jumped out. Hot damn! I thought, he's circumcised!
His meat was over 6 inches. He wasn't wearing any underwear, and the slacks he was wearing were of very light material. He wasn't wearing a belt, so I quickly upbuttoned the top button of his slacks and his whole dick and balls were free.
He had a gorgeous straight dick with a large head shaped like a mushroom. It was a piece of man meat similar to my own. His cock was quite thick, and it was hot to my hand as I slowly stroked up and down savoring the buttery smooth skin.
A small drop of cum bubbled out of the pee slit on the head and I bobbed by tongue down to it and licked up the drop. The salty flavor of the drop of cum made my mouth began to water. Screw that about jacking him off, I thought, I want that dick down my throat!
He wasn't offering any resistance at all, so I dropped to the floor boards and put my mouth over the head of his dick.
I'd taken out my false teeth down in Palm Springs, washed them off, and carefully put them in their plastic carrying case; then tucked them in the bag I's stashed in the carrying rack above where we were sitting.
Since I'd had all my natural teeth removed about years ago, I'd stumbled by accident on how great it was to suck hot cock with a mouth that was pure nerves, saliva, and heat. -- With no teeth to get in the way.
I gently sucked on the head of the soldier's dick, and felt it swell to rock hardness. I tasted a little of his salty cum that was ebbing out the pee slit from his excitement.]
MY excitement was giving me the shakes.
I fumbled in the pocket of my shorts and drew out a paper towel and wrapped the towel under and around the young guy's cock. Under the balls, so I wouldn't get any dribble on his slacks.
He settled back in the seat and slumped down, opening his legs wide so I could work on him real good.
If any of the passengers forward of us, or the bus driver had glanced back, I would have been hidden from them. I was on the floor boards between the young guy's legs. There was plenty of room for me to enjoy the blowjob I was giving him.
His cock was hot and tasted even better than I'd hoped it would. I breathed in the faint odor of Old Spice, and the slight tang of sweat and pee. I kept my eyes wide open so I could remember exactly how his cock looked as I went all the way down to his balls on it.
The light in the bus was dim because of the tinted glass in all the windows, and the fact the driver had turned off the lights during the drive up the grade to Yucca Valley, but I could see everything I was doing.
I went down to his balls where he had a lot of golden brown hair, and licked his nut sack, then traveled up his cock and took it all the way in my mouth to the back of my throat. My puffed out, excited lips, were pressing aginst his pelvic bone.
I closed my lips and throat around his cock... Since I had no teeth, I could bite down on his cock with my gums where my front teeth had been, and give his dick the extra sensation of being in a tight, hot cunt.
My mouth became a hot cunt for him. My entire consciousness was in my mouth now. It was all about his beautiful cock sliding in and out, and down my throat.
My tongue stretched and moved under his cock, and rocking up and down on his dick, sent ripples of pleasure all through my body. I could feel his meat expand even more, could feel it get slightly larger, and knew he was about to shoot. The feeling in my mouth, tongue and throat was exquisite. My mouth slid up and down on the smooth hot skin of his young dick. Shivers of feeling rippled through my body and into my own cock and groin. I reached for my own dick with my free hand.
I could feel the need to spurt my OWN cum mounting. I worked his living meat with my old mouth. My mouth became the center of my being and I was going to suck every drop of cum from him. The reward for my manipulation of him. The reason I'd taken the trip to Palm Springs and back. "Oh yeah, baby, give me your cum, shoot your cum to me baby!" I whispered.
I backed off so I could taste his cum. Hot cum shot out over my tongue into my mouth in its creamy, salty delight. One... Two... Three--Four. OH God Yeah. Five! Five hot spurts. At the same time my own orgasm hit me, and I let my cum splash on the floorboards..The young Marine and I both came together. I was moaning in ecstasy as my body racked with my climax.
I was shaking, as I got back up in the seat next to the soldier. I unwrapped the paper towel from the Marine's now softening cock, and he slowly zipped back up, and buttoned the top button of his slacks.
"Wow!" he said. "How OLD did you say you were?" I lied to him, "Fifty", I said. I was going to be 80 in April, but there was no need to let him know that.
A couple of minutes later, the bus stopped in Yucca Valley, and we both got off after retrieving our bags from the overhead compartment. The girl in the Pink Shorts got off too.
"I'd still like to suck her cunt," I whispered to the young guy.
"You're TOO much, Dude," he said, and we turned away from each other and went our separate ways.
We didn't even know each other's names. It was exactly the way I loved to have stranger sex, and the way I've had it many, times during my long life.
I found where I'd parked my car, and started the drive home, I relived the feeling and taste of the Marine's cock in my mouth, and my cock got hard again.
I pulled off on a dirt trail before reaching my house, and masturbated furiously. The memory was still hot in my mind of the entire bus ride up from Palm Springs to Yucca Valley. In my fantasy, I included the girl in the pink shorts, and had her blow me while I was blowing the soldier.
I came again with a racking orgasm, and this time, in my fantasy, my cum wasn't wasted on the floor of a bus, but gratefully swallowed by the girl in pink shorts!
"Thank you Spirits!" I said aloud as I started the car up and got back on the highway headed for home.
by david stardust Wednesday morning, August 31, 2016
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GETTING THE COLD SHOULDER
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Posted:Aug 30, 2016 4:50 am
Last Updated:Sep 1, 2016 4:07 am
23030 Views
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I bet most of you readers have gotten the cold shoulder from somebody at one time or another in your life. Once in awhile we'll meet somebody, or be introduced to someone who simply doesn't like us, and makes it obvious he or she doesn't want to have anything to do with us.
Most of us have also experienced the other side of THAT coin when WE meet someone we can't stand, and want them to disappear from us sooner than later.
I'm not writing about any blog or site that I've been on during THIS summer session.
I've gotten the cold shoulder a lot of times on this site in the past, when I've prowled around and gone to a blog that was advertised on the Community page... Nine times out of ten going to a strange blog has been a waste of time, especially if it's written by a man. That is, it's a waste of time for another man to go and leave a comment. I'm a standard and can't get on profiles, so even that's a waste for me.
We all know there's some pretty seedy slum neighborhoods on this site, "Hey baby, if you wanna' fuck me, I can deliver the goods. Yada, yada, yada..."
There are also some very high class, well written blogs here. Some of them are written by men who want nothing to do with other men who happen to drop by and leave even friendly, well written comments. Years ago there was one guy who used to write a very anal, organized, never miss a day, sometimes pretty boring blog, who was a musician that I tried to befriend. I left nice comments for a couple of months and he totally ignored me...
Finally I gave up and let him have his harem without another man sticking in his nose for a little smell. lol.
One time years ago, persistence paid off for me on a blog written by an elderly woman who had exquisite taste both in the blog posts she wrote almost each day, along with the beautiful, artistic pictures she posted.
With each new post she put up, I eagerly, carefully, read the posting (along with a couple hundred other people), and wrote her a careful, respectful comment. For a couple of months she completely ignored my comments and never answered any of them. Everyone else who left a comment got a short comment from her in return. I was the odd man out. This game of musical chairs left me standing, and I probably should have had a red face, and given up.
But I continued in the same way, and then one day I received an email from her (at the time I was a Gold). "I wondered how long you'd keep leaving comments, without getting anything back from me," she wrote. "I was curious, and I was being mean to you for no reason other than my curiosity at how long you'd keep leaving me nice comments without getting anything from me in return. I'm sorry now for my behavior. Other men who've left me comments and I've acted the same way toward, have either just left my blog, or placed a mean comment to me which I had to delete, and ban them. You've been a gentleman, and you're welcome on my blog, and I'll no longer ignore you." (----this is paraphrased from memory).
She and Lola (of lola is back) were good friends. She and I also became friends, and it was gratifying to me, that my persistence paid off. She left the site after a few months, and wrote me she was very ill, and didn't think she'd return. She never did. I've missed her for years now, along with other dear, dear blogging friends I've known on this site.
During the nine years this site has generously allowed me to carry on with my blog, I've had numerous blogging friends. A lot of them were men who weren't like those guys I described above, who didn't want another man messing with the women who visited their sites-- especially a bisexual man who might put an embarrassing "make" on them. More and more straight men on this site seem to be accepting gay and bisexual men wanting to visit their blogs and be friends without trying to make out with them......
I imagine many of you reading this post are getting ready for the big Labor Day weekend coming up. M. and I are also looking forward to it. When I first moved to the desert in 1976, Labor Day always marked the end of the hot weather here.
That isn't the case any longer. The hot summers here now extends all through September and into the middle of October.
by david stardust...Tuesday morning, August 30, 2016
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MAKING LOVE AT THE OLYMPICS
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Posted:Aug 29, 2016 5:10 am
Last Updated:Aug 29, 2016 10:35 am
23456 Views
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There was a song about young love, well, more like a million songs about young love, but this one started off with "Young love, sweet love, is filled with true emotion--" It's an old, old song right out of my past.
That tune was running through my head as I used a battery powered drill to anchor paneling on the inside walls of our workshop. The workshop doesn't have any AC, but it runs along the entire West wall of our house and stays pretty cool even at this time of year, especially in the morning. I got bored with the little voice in my head singing the small part of that song I remembered, and turned the radio to a talk station.
The guys on the radio were talking about the Olympics--what else? They were covering the four swimmers who trashed that closed gas station down in Brazil. The conversation shifted to all the sexual activity that took place in the Olympic Village.
I had about as much interest in the Olympics as you have in watching me dress in the morning. Which I don't.. (dress) ha, ha.. 'matter of fact I was working in the nude in the workshop and being careful not to get a splinter in my swinging body parts.
I was using one of those two-step metal folding little stepladders to get up to the top of the wall I was working on, when the guys on the AM radio started talking about how the Olympic officials had given away over 150,000 condoms to the contestants.
The AM station I get loud and pretty clear out here in the boondocks, broadcasts from the Palm Springs area, which is a very liberal part of this world. These two guys on the radio were having a hilarious time telling of the reports they'd read of how the grass, and pavement between the Olympic village buildings was sometimes filled with young people doing the two-headed beast without even trying to hide their activities. I guess most of the athletes weren't worried much about the Zika virus and the mosquitos zooming in on their bare skin!
I was thinking THAT grass was probably pretty warm and cozy. Rio de Janeiro has a warm climate even during their winters. It just goes to prove how powerful Mother Nature is in her pursuit of trying to continue the species with the overpowering attraction of sex in the healthy person...
Most of those athletes at the Olympic Games were in their twenties and early thirties, and the ones competing were in top physical condition. Trying to stop all those extra healthy men and women from fornicating was an impossible job, so the officials just decided to turn a blind eye on what was going on all around them. Very smart if you ask me.
I clicked off the radio, when the two guys became a little ridiculous in their banter.
Of course those young guys and girls are going to be screwing like rabbits. Young love, and young emotion is something we've all, or almost all experienced. I was also happy to hear on the same station that "ye old time religion" is losing it's grip all over the Western world. More and more people are realizing the garbage scams religion has been feeding the vulnerable for generations..
by david stardust...Monday morning, August 29, 2016...
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THE TROUBLE WITH HAIR IN A HOT CLIMATE
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Posted:Aug 28, 2016 2:46 am
Last Updated:Aug 29, 2016 10:09 am
23813 Views
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I shaved my head again on Thursday. This is the third time this summer I've shaved it down to the scalp.
I don't like hair.
On me that is! My hair is the sort that is wispy and fine. It grows faster than the hedge you probably have growing in your yard.
My pubic hair will also grow fast and gets so long if I don't trim it every week, it'll get caught in the zipper of my fly when I zip. When my public hair gets caught in the zipper of my fly it hurts like heck and I have to cut the hair to get it to release. Normally now, I trim my pubic area every week to keep the hair down to a quarter inch.
Once in a public bathroom at Walmart. A couple of men walked in while I was trying to get the zipper on the green cotton shorts I was wearing free from a bunch of pubic hair that had gotten caught in the zipper. They gave me pretty weird looks. I think they thought I was jerking off even after I mentioned I'd caught some hair in the zipper. I finally went into a stall and after a painful struggle, was able to work the zipper free... You better believe when I got home from shopping I trimmed the pubic hair back to about 1/4 inch. That's about the length I like to keep it.
I don't have trouble with hair growing under my arms or on my chest, or legs, or arms, it's just the stuff growing on my head and on my private parts.
Some men have heavy black hair growing all over their bodies. I've seen men with hair growing on their backs that looks like they're wearing a welcoming mat on their backs--the kind of door mat you put in front of your door for people to wipe their feet on.
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I don't have that sort of trouble, thankfully... My hair is very fine, and at my age, most of it's white, especially the hair on my head and beard.
In the hot climate of the Mojave Desert where I live, the hair on my head during the summer gets wet with sweat and itches. My head is much more comfortable when I shave down to the scalp so it it stays cool under the baseball cap with a long visor I usually wear.
After working outside and getting sweaty, I can simply come in and hold my head under the cold water faucet to cool down, then pat my head dry with a towel.
It's interesting to see how different people look with a shaved head compared to a full crop of hair. During the winters here, the hair on my head doesn't bother me and I let it grow out... It's only when the temperature is way over 100 each day that the razor comes out and off goes my hair. Actually I don't use a razor very much anymore. I have a neat Wahl electric cutter especially made for trimming beards and public areas. It uses a Lithium Ion battery, and stays charged for long periods between shaves and has power to shave my head a number of times before it needs charging again.
With a full head of hair, I look like a gentle old man. When my head is shaved NOT. If I had tats all over, which I don't, I'd look like an escaped convict... lol.
by david stardust...Sunday.. August 28, 2016..
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APPETITES
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Posted:Aug 27, 2016 3:24 am
Last Updated:Aug 29, 2016 11:00 am
23738 Views
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Are we hardwired from birth into out appetites?
Are you someone who can't leave chocolate alone?
If you have candy somewhere that you can easily get to, will the candy disappear as fast as you can put it in your mouth?
Right from the time I found out as a preteen that I could easily bend over and take my own dick in my mouth, I was hooked on the penis. (No! I don't do that any longer!)...I also don't care much for chocolate, or anything sweet.
A lot of the stuff that psychologists dish out to the news networks about out early sexuality is pure made-up garbage. At least in my case it certainly is and was...
No one taught me anything about my sexual urges. I always had them. I was born a horn dog, and I learned everything by trial and error, with no one forcing me to do anything I didn't want to do.
Sexuality has always been MY big appetite. I suspect on this site there are a lot of other people like me..
As I get older, I still have all the same urges, and act out on them when it's appropriate and safe to do so. I've never had any guilt feelings about my bisexuality either. I think the nonsense religion puts out, to suppress our pleasure with our OWN bodies for gosh sakes, Is downright against the laws of the natural universe.
LOVE and SEX are two different things. They CAN go together, but often they don't. Sometimes pure sexual hunger has us using our bodies and the bodies of others for pleasure. I find nothing wrong with that.
Lust and pure animal sexuality is a very liberating and physically wonderful experience. Only a few people in our society
ever admit to going down that speedway !
Researcher HAVE reluctantly admitted the connection between suppressed sexual appetite and the desire for violence.
People who experience a healthy, frequent, sexual release, are people who are free from the hostility that seems to have taken over this country and other places where the sexual mores are even more out of kilter with our natural desires than in this country. Places in the Middle East are a good example of this.
These are my opinions, and since this country is still relatively free, I don't feel the need to try and hide them from the NSA or Sex Police, or anyone else. I don't openly go around flaunting my views in public, that would be completely stupid of me, but on this site; what you see of me is what I am...
by David Stardust...Saturday, August 27, 2016...
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Technology/Sociology
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Posted:Aug 26, 2016 1:35 am
Last Updated:Aug 28, 2016 3:19 am
23240 Views
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I bought my first transistor radio in the fall of 1958. It was made by the German Phillips Electronic Company. I was serving in the Army Infantry in Mannheim, Germany, at the time and bought the radio at the PX on board the Army base.
The radio measured about 3/4 of an inch thick, by 4 or 5 inches long, and was 2-3/4 inches high. It was powered by 4-- AA batteries that were the same size they are today, although they didn't last nearly as long as today's Energizer batteries do.
I paid about $30.00 for the radio. The rate of inflation since 1958 would make $30.00 in 1958 have the same buying power as $249.85 in 2016. (According to Google).
The other troops in my platoon, were crazy about the radio. Most of them were always flat broke (a private's pay at that time was $36.00 a month), and on payday most of the troops gambled away what little money they had at poker, so none of them could afford to buy a similar radio for themselves. The barracks we lived in had no amenities in those days, so even a radio playing on "off" time was a luxury for us.
I've never been interested in gambling, or cards, and early in my Army life,I became a loan shark. I'm not embarrassed to tell you that, because I'm actually proud of how little interest I charged on the money I loaned out. It was 10 percent, due on the next payday... In comparison, a couple of other guys charged double what the guy borrowed. One guy in another platoon had a gang of thugs who worked with him and if he didn't get his money at payday, fists would fly, noses would get bloodied and teeth would be knocked loose.
This was the first radio of it's small size any of us had ever seen. The radio had a great clear tone, came with a small earplug speaker, and used the marvel--then-- of transistors instead of the big, heavy vacuum tubes all radios up until that time used.
That little transistor radio was the beginning, at least in my observation, of the tremendous advancement in technology from that year-- 1958-- and continuing on through 2012.
I don't remember the exact year I took my first full year course in Sociology. I think it was 1964, but I'm too comfortably seated at my desk with my feet up and my coffee perched on a small table near me, to go hunting through drawers and files to find some of my old college records to confirm that date.
Sociology, the study of human tribes, groups, minorities, social mores and taboos... I would never have guessed the course would be so interesting and would benefit my life so much... Of course, the instructor, a Jewish man named Professor LOT, was really the reason the course was so fascinating to me and to most of his other students. Good teachers are invaluable contributors to every society.
So you may be thinking about this time, if you've even made it this far, WTF is this post about?
Okay, I know I'm long-winded once I get started, so the reason for this post is that in a nutshell, I think technology is leaving our human understandings back in the dust.
Back in the time I'm writing about in this post, the relationships between people was more gentle. I mean I had a few fights in the Army, but no one tried to knife me. Some of the guys I fought hated my guts and we never became friends like directors like to have happen in flicks, but I wasn't looking over my shoulder expecting a knife in my back .
In today's world, I think I would be. I sometimes worry about Marisol when she drives to Yucca Valley, or to Palm Springs by herself, or especially when she makes the long trip to Los Angeles. Things like Car Jacking-- back in the day-- never happened.
Police chases like the ones shown on the news practically every day, never happened.
Perhaps I've lived comfortably under a rock for 50 years and have just emerged into reality.
Tech. stuff has grown exponentially since 1958 while human relationships have sunk to new lows of anger and misunderstanding between groups. Our two major political parties are constantly at war with one another without either party willing to compromise for the good of the country to try and accomplish SOMETHING.
The DONALD, and Hillary, are currently in a race to see which one can destroy the other one first.
November 8th, election day, will be here before we know it, and it's fascinating to me which one of these two will come out to be our new president...
Incidentally, I thought I still had that old transistor radio.. but.. it no longer worked. I've dropped it too many times through the years..I wanted to take a picture of it for this post, but M. said she threw it out about a month ago.. M. gets rid of the things that I would probably hold on forever..
by david stardust... Friday morning, August 26 , 2016...
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DO YOU MASTURBATE?
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Posted:Aug 25, 2016 3:42 am
Last Updated:Aug 29, 2016 11:04 am
22779 Views
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Do you masturbate? How often? I know it's none of my business to intrude on such a private action---but I can't help myself from asking. It gets me all excited and my ancient wood quivers with the dirty thoughts that flood through my brain. I look at the pictures on this site of those people who dare place their face pictures, or body part pictures here, and sometimes daydream of running my fingers over their bodies.
Do you rub and stroke and manipulate your lovely hidden parts every day? (Ummmm, I'd like to be a fly on the wall).
If you DO these wonderful-feeling little things to yourself, do you use any dildos or vibrators? Or any TOYS?
I'll break the ice here if you're a little shy in "talking" about masturbating.
I'll break the ice by telling you I masturbate just about every day. I have the feeling I'd like to jack my dick off right now as I write this, but I'll hold off until I finish this post before satisfying the urge. I may be unusual in my high sexual needs, but I think most of the people who use this site are also highly sexed people, otherwise why would they even be on here? There are hundreds, perhaps thousands of sites on the Internet where people can meet like-minded people. Many of those sites are not oriented toward sexual satisfaction the way this one is.
There have been a lot of times when I've mutually masturbated with other people, and I like that. I like doing THAT a lot. Most men have had sessions while they were growing up of masturbating with a buddy, or even with a group of young guys.
Young women have had sleep overs with girl friends where mutual kissing and masturbation took place.
These mutual masturbation sessions don't mean that the people doing them were gay, they were just exploring their own sexuality. In our culture this sort of exploration is considered pretty normal for growing .
One of my favorite of all things, is to get people off. I look forward to watching people jerk, and moan, and see their faces contort and their eyes roll around with the great feelings they're having.
To get other people off, I'll use whatever it takes to do the job.
I'll stroke off a man at the unzip of his fly. If his dick looks appetizing, I'll put my mouth around it... But... I prefer the bodies of women. Yes, I do!
I really don't like a man's body very much--except if he has an attractive dick.
My attention on a man, unless he's one of the rare beautiful ones, is directed to his penis.
Woman's bodies appeal to me much more, and I love, love, love the erotic feeling of my fingers up hot, tight pussies.
When I masturbate women, unless it's in a car or in some place where she can't take off her clothes, I want her as fully nude as she'll get and still feel comfortable.
I so love gently arousing a woman's nipples. Beautiful hot, erect nipples are as good as a man's cock for my lips and tongue to play with.
I usually can't hold off for too long before my old hot mouth is down on her clit and my tongue is ramming into her snatch.
Yeah, masturbation heads the top of my list for things to do on a slow day...Even when I'm very busy, I'll always take a break to help get someone nice off.
I believe our human sexuality is a gift from the Great Spirit, and when we're ashamed of our bodies, and turn our backs on this great gift, it's a slap in the face of any God people create in their minds.
by david stardust.... Thursday morning, August 25, 2016
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OPENING A CAN OF WORMS
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Posted:Aug 24, 2016 3:41 am
Last Updated:Aug 25, 2016 5:28 pm
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Hello! Come on in! I just finished grinding some DON FRANCISCO'S 100% Colombia Supremo
coffee beans...Here, smell....Isn't that a delicious aroma ?
Sit down, make yourself comfortable while I brew this fresh coffee, I bet you'll love it!
I'm glad y'all dropped by because I've been pondering something and you're just the person to ask about it..
Do you know the expression "Opening a can of worms?"-- You know, telling a little bit of a secret that leads to a whole string of deception and lies....
Well, it's my belief that just about EVERYBODY has a secret can of worms tucked somewhere in their heart..
Do you? Do you have a secret?
Do you have a secret you're afraid to tell your husband or wife, or boyfriend-girlfriend? Are you afraid to tell it because it would lead to the opening of a whole "Pandora's Box" of lies and things you don't want to let out of your past?
Maybe it has to do with things you did as a with one of your cousins? Sexual things? (I love hearing
about that stuff).
I bet it's something like a REALLY BIG can of worms, like a whole string of shop lifting events when you were in high school, or lies you told about your sister's drug use to ruin her pristine reputation because you've always secretly disliked her. Something you did with a brother? Like breaking into neighbor's houses when you knew they were on vacation?
Come on tell me! You know I won't tell anyone. I'm good at keeping secrets.
While you're drinking your coffee, and that secret of yours is getting ready to pop out of your heart and into my ears, let me tell you about a can of worms I once stumbled on, and saw the lid ripped off the can, right in front of my eyes.
I've already told you how I traveled to California fresh from my discharge from the Army in 1959. I'd never been to the West coast, and neither had anyone I knew ever been here. Some of my relatives in Connecticut actually thought California was another country-- like part of Mexico! --Duh! (That was my Aunt Cate, my mother's older sister...Cate never graduated from high school and was a sweet pretty woman, but when you turned her flashlight on, you found the batteries were mostly dead.
The first week I was in L.A. I met the woman I would marry 6 months later. I'd just turned 23, and Romyna was 17. She was a tall, lovely Mexican national from Tampico, and it was a storybook "love at first sight" for both of us.
Romyna's mother was a PSYCHIC who actually made her living in THAT spooky manner. Maria had brought her three daughters, Romyna, Martha, and Patricia into the U. S. illegally when they were just babies.
It was love at first sight for Romyna and me. It was lust at first sight too. We were married in Las Vegas 6 months after we'd met, and Romyna was already pregnant.
I got a job in a large insurance company dealing in real estate insurance. Romyna worked in a printing company where she had "a girl friend" who worked with her, and they were very close.
Within a year of our marriage we had a home in a nice section of the San Fernando Valley, (with a huge mortgage, and a small swimming pool in the backyard that leaked like a cracked bowl and never held water. Romyna had given birth to our , who's now in his fifties.
One night as Romyna and I were eating a quiet dinner, Romyna made a slip of the tongue about the girl she worked with. I'd met the girl many times. Martha was the girl's name, and Martha had a baby -- Isabella. I liked Martha a lot, and Martha's cute baby, Isabella was only a little over a year old at that time.
To make a very long story as short as possible, Martha was ACTUALLY Romyna's younger sister, and ISABELLA was my wife's !!
WHAT A CAN OF WORMS!
When I met Romyna she was only 17 and had already given birth to a baby!
Of course I came to accept Martha, and Isabella, and a lot of things about Romyna that were opened when that first can of worms had its lid pried off. There were things about Romyna and her family that to my"White Bread" ears were astonishing.
So, what about you?
The coffee's great isn't it?
Would you like a second cup?
I can tell by the look on your face that you're gonna' tell me now, aren't you?
Come on! Confession's good for the soul!
Think of the secrets I've told YOU.
by david stardust...August 24, Wednesday morning...,
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WHEN YOU NEED A LITTLE HELP?
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Posted:Aug 23, 2016 5:20 am
Last Updated:Aug 23, 2016 6:00 pm
6550 Views
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Are you a person who believes other people are placed on this planet to give you a hand when you get in a tough spot? Or are you like most MEN, who will drive to the ends of the earth before asking anyone for directions on how to get to a particular place while driving?
With a good GPS in the car or with Siri and the I-Phone, men are now saved from THAT embarrassment of asking strangers on a road trip how to get somewhere.
There are plenty of other places where a helping hand from either someone you know or from a stranger, can go a long way in getting you out of some jam.
I get stuck in the sand all the time. Soft sand trails pass for roads all through the area where our home is.
Usually it's sand, but once or twice after a flash flood I've been stuck in what to all appearances seemed to be a sinkhole of quicksand.
Although I've been driving everywhere on this desert where we live for the past 40 years, I still end up getting the car or truck I'm driving stuck up to the floorboards once or twice a year... So far M. has never been with me when I get stuck. That's because when she's riding with me I take the trails and roads that are familiar to us both that we know are passable.
When I'm going someplace on my own in one of my old cars without a Global Positioning device, and with just the cheapest piece of crap cell phone, I like to explore the countless sand trails to find out where they go. I've been known to barrel down a sand trail I've never been on before, and even when the sand keeps getting deeper and deeper, I always tend to figure if I just step on the accelerator I can make it through to the black top road just ahead... Not!
When this happens to me, I feel it's my punishment for being such an ass. To get out of deep loose sand, the only sure way is to jack the car up and build a road under it of brush or old lumber or whatever is around the place. So far, stubborn little ole' me hasn't asked for help when I get stuck.
What about asking your friends or family members for a loan of money? A credit card debt you've watched grow to amazing amounts is a prime example of that need. Stuff you've bought even while knowing you couldn't afford it, mounts up rapidly.
If you're still single and just out of school and you find even with your fresh Bachelor of Arts diploma, you can't find a job, are you tempted to ask your parents if you can move back home-- just until the brass ring on life's Merry Go Round presents itself to you?
Have you ever asked your friend to fix you up with the guy or girl they're buddies with because you just like the person so much, but are afraid to ask them yourself?
The world we live in is filled with places where a helping hand can help to put our feet back on the ground. Don't be like me--a stubborn old geezer who has to do everything for himself.
M. knows me so well. When I get in predicaments needing help, she's there for me. I do the same for her. She and I seem to be cut from the same stubborn cloth.
by david stardust... August 23, 2016 ...Tuesday morning
The pictures below are of my old Dodge Colt stuck on a sand trail that got hit by a flash flood. The water washed tons of sand over the trail.. The temperature on that particular day was 105. I had to jack the car up and lay old planks that I ripped from an abandoned cabin, down on the trail for a makeshift road. After a lot of work, I finally got the car out of the deep sand and on firmer ground. Fortunately, I had a gallon of water with me, and I always carry a shovel and a hydraulic jack in the trunk.. just in case! These pictures of my car that I took that day, are about ten years old, but the trails here haven't changed much in those ten years.
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IS FOLLOWING A LOVE WHO'S LEFT YOU TO LIVE ELSEWHERE A SMART THING TO DO?
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Posted:Aug 22, 2016 2:30 am
Last Updated:Aug 23, 2016 6:42 am
7031 Views
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The man in the picture below this post is not me. I don't know where this picture of the bacon-like rock was taken. The rock looks like a big strip of Canadian bacon. I like to think this guy found the rock somewhere up in Canada. I'd like to know this guy. He looks to me to be a friendly, intelligent man, and I've always thought the world needs more of those.
Love, found and then lost, is really the subject of this piece of ridiculousness. I have an old friend whom I've know for years. He comes to visit us, driving in from the L.A. area. His name is not at all imaginative, it's just plain--
...Jim, his name is Jim. He drives way out here into no-man's-idea-of-a-place-to-live land, and visits with us for a couple days of rapid fire talk where we three solve all the problems of the world. This time a lot of the conversation was about Hillary and the Donald..
It's pretty darned nice when three adults can sit quietly together and discuss ideas of making the world function better.
Marisol, Jim, and I were at Jessica's coffee shop early yesterday--Sunday-- morning. M. and Jim went with me when I took the old truck to the automatic water station to buy fresh drinking water.
Jim, lives in his family home in Whittier, without the family. Whittier is a suburb of Los Angeles on the East side of L.A.
Jim never married. He's been in love with a woman he used to work with in L.A. who retired about the same time Jim did. The woman then moved to Canada, leaving Jim high and dry. Well, she--Carol-- IS Canadian and has her string of relatives there. Maybe Jim's Carol knows where the bacon rock is located!?
So, Jim is torn between staying where he's spent most of his life, or moving up to Niagara Falls on the State's side, to be close to his true love.
Jim is an only and both his parents are dead, so the place in Whittier (worth about a quarter mil), belongs to him and he can do what he wants with it. The house is all paid off.
It's very obvious to me that Jim's love, Carol, doesn't love J. the way J. does Carol.
Jim's 69 and in good health, but he hasn't had many affairs in his life. In my mind, selling his house here, and moving to Niagara Falls would be a huge mistake.
At Jim's age THAT kind of an abrupt change for him would be disastrous. Both Jim and Carol are asexual people, and Jim has a full life here. He dabbles in the stock market now, and does well in it. He also belongs to a number of political groups in Whittier and I could see him running for some minor office in that city and probably winning the seat on some board or council, which would suit his personality fine.
Marisol has enough sense to keep her opinion about Jim's moving or not moving to herself. Of course I've told Jim exactly what I think. I've met Carol, and she's a nice, attractive woman, but I feel she has other interests besides her "friendship" with Jim.
Besides, I'd hate for Jim to leave this area and not be able to visit us in our desert home three or four times a year.
What do you think? Is following a love who's left you high and dry worth it? Do you think splitting from an area where you're comfortably situated at the age of 69 to go follow a person who was once close to you is a smart move?
Jessica and her father, Joseph were delighted that I'd brought Marisol and Jim to their coffee shop for breakfast. The way I normally just had black coffee and ran off, was starting to make Joseph think I didn't trust his cooking..
When Jim went in the restroom, Jessica, beautiful as ever, leaned in to our table where her father wouldn't notice, and told M. and me. My Dad is driving me crazy, I'm so horny-- and I can't do anything with the guys who always come here... My dad watches me like a hawk...!"
by david stardust...Monday, August 22, 2016..
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SPANKING THE MONKEY
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Posted:Aug 21, 2016 5:22 am
Last Updated:Aug 29, 2016 11:07 am
6984 Views
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I have spanked the heck out of my monkey for as long as I can remember.
When both that monkey and I were younger, the monkey needed to be spanked three or four times a day, and sometimes even then he'd act up and need more spanking... That darn monkey-- especially at night-- that darned monkey needed a special long-time spanking under the blankets... He always needed a good spanking before he'd let me fall asleep.
What's even worse is that the monkey got me to kiss him! Yes! That monkey got me to kiss him. It's hard for me to even think about how I somehow got to kissing that darn monkey! And, the kisses were not just short little pecks on the cheek either. That monkey got me to French kiss him and when I was a little older he even spit in my mouth and got me to swallow! It got so bad that I was French kissing that darned old monkey every chance I could get the monkey alone-- and I was letting him spit in my mouth.
That monkey got me to twist my body in all sorts of configurations, and before I knew what was going on I could twist around almost as much as the monkey could, while licking his own ass.
When I was in Georgia, my monkey and I made good friends with Tommy Knight.
Tommy was from a real Indian tribe down in Decatur, Georgia. I don't know if Tommy ever told me what tribe he was from, he probably did, and I've forgotten.
Tommy probably did tell me what tribe he was from, and I've forgotten about it because Tommy told me everything about everything. And I told Tommy everything about things too. It wasn't long after meeting Tommy in school, before I told Tommy of the monkey, and how I let the monkey spit in my mouth.
At that time I owned a used Cushman Motor Scooter. It--the scooter--had a big luggage compartment in the rear, under the padded seat, and a tall Plexiglas windshield. It was very easy to drive because the scooter had a centrifugal clutch and when you drove the scooter you didn't need to shift any gears. I went a lot of places on that scooter, and mostly I went over to Tommy Knight's house. He lived deep in the woods only a few miles from where my family and I lived.
I was a little shy the first time I went to Tommy's house. He was there alone because his mom worked in a diner in Decatur and she didn't get home until late at night. Well, Tommy wasn't completely alone, because Tommy also had a sister who was a year older than Tommy, but she was very studious and wanted to become a doctor, so she was usually in her room upstairs studying when I was over at Tommy's. Tommy's sister didn't want anything to do with me. She was very pretty, and I would have liked to have shown her my monkey, but it was something that never happened.
Tommy and I had already secretly made the agreement that I would come over to his house and we would spank our monkey's together.
Tommy was very attractive. He was about my height and build, but he had a red complexion just like in the books I'd read describing Indians as the Red Men. Tommy really was red. And Tommy was hairless too. I mean, Tommy had hair on his head, jet black hair, but his body was as smooth and hairless as glass. Tommy had beautifully shaped lips, and he had very dark brown eyes. I guess I was a little in love with him, and I think he felt that way about me too.
Tommy and I sat naked on his bed and it was very quiet in his room. My eyes were all over Tommy's body, and I had the strange desire to feel him pressed up against me and to even kiss him on the lips. Tommy's monkey was hard and throbbing and when his monkey began to spurt, I dived for it and damn if his monkey didn't spit in my mouth just like my monkey had been doing to me.
On later visits to Tommy's bedroom, my monkey spit in Tommy's mouth too, but mostly as my trips over to Tommy's house grew to almost every afternoon, Tommy liked me to grease my monkey from a large jar of Petroleum Jelly Tommy kept in his room, and then to slowly slide my monkey up in Tommy's smooth beautiful ass. We kissed each other with our tongues darting in and out of each other's mouth, and we'd slowly rock back and forth with my monkey sliding in and out of Tommy's hot beautiful ass, until my monkey spit there, right in Tommy's ass the way he seemed to love it.
by david stardust...Sunday morning---August 21, 2016....
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DO YOU FEEL GOOD ABOUT YOUR LIFE ?
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Posted:Aug 20, 2016 1:44 am
Last Updated:Aug 22, 2016 2:20 am
7662 Views
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How's you life going? Are you a happy person? Are you a HEALTHY person?
I suppose if you're happy with your life, you're probably healthy too.
Are you where you thought you'd be when you were younger? The phrase "where you'd thought you'd be," has a lot of connotations.
The best way to break some of those many individual meanings down is to concentrate on your happiness quotient. I can use my own life as an example of what I'm getting at.
When I was a , I wanted to live an exciting, adventure filled life. I never wanted a lot of money, I wanted always, from the first I can remember, to always be in good health. My father was a follower of Bernard Mcfaddin, an early health nut. Wherever we lived, we had a vegetable garden and raised chickens and sometimes rabbits for food. Most of my preteen youth was spent in areas North of New York City in a country setting. During my summer vacations from school, I worked on farms in the neighborhood picking strawberries, raspberries, tomatoes, and other work on commercial farms.
I can honestly say that at 79, I'm still healthy, and actually can't quite believe that I really have gotten this old. I don't feel old. I don't have aches and pains or any health problems. I haven't been to a doctor in over 50 years.
Because I've been retired for years now, I get Social Security. The officials in the S.S. office keep writing me notices that I need to pick a doctor from a list they send me and go to a clinic and have a full physical exam done. I write them back each time I get such a notice that I have no intention of having a physical or of seeing any doctor in the forseeable future. I use "religious preferences" as my excuse not to go to one of the listed doctors and clinics. So far that's worked..
What about you? Do you feel good? I believe MD's in this country aren't trained to CURE any disease. Instead they're trained to treat the symptoms of disease and have the patient take expensive Big Pharma chemicals with sometimes horrible side effects for the rest of their lives. I feel I know my own body better than any healthy professional could ever know it.
One of the main factors that's made me happy in my old age is owning my own house free and clear of any mortgage. This concept was banged into my young mind when my father lost our home during the depression for failure to be able to pay the property taxes. The home he lost was a prime 40 acre farm only 50 miles North of New York City. That particular 40 acres now is a gated condo settlement near Hyde Park, N. Y.
The first thing I did after I'd stumbled into a little business when I was much younger, and made quite a bit of cash, was to go hunting for a place where I could settle down and live in peace and quiet to be as old as I am now.
I lived in a 1956 VW Van for two years while I traveled from Los Angeles, to Sacramento, to Monterey, to San Francisco, to Las Vegas, and all the small places in between, looking for a place to buy on the West Coast. I wanted a place where I could settle down in comparative comfort, with things to keep me occupied physically. I finally found and bought this place, where I'm writing this post. I've lived here now for over 40 years, and have enjoyed every minute of my time spent here.
I believe a lot of being happy is knowing oneself, and accepting what your strengths and failures are. Nothing in life is perfect. All your friends and lovers are going to have some things you dislike about them, as you have things they dislike about you.
I don't know if you're happy or not. I hope you are, and if you're not, I hope you're using the honest knowledge of yourself to make yourself as happy as possible.
by david stardust... Saturday morning, August 20, 2016...
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To link to this blog (stardust81937) use [blog stardust81937] in your messages.
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