My spouse was reading the sex graffiti post, and he liked it.  “Do you think the scissor dick looks spooky?”  I asked.

“No…” he said.  He said he liked my theory of the dick being about personal pain, not to brag about, love, or fuck with.

“Halos?” he asked.

“Halos, yeah.  Like a circle on an angel.  There are halos on graffiti.”

“Oh!” he said.  He’d thought that word in my post was a typo.

The post was fun for him.  But he criticized the veins on the park picnic table penis art.  “The veins aren’t right,” he said.

“What’s wrong with them?” I asked.

“Veins don’t go like that,” he said.

“Ok!” I said.  “I guess they made a mistake.  Well, why don’t you show me?  Is your dick veiny?”

“I’ll show you,” he said.

showing me

I was lying in bed, and he was standing by the bed.  He unzipped his pants, and it felt erotic.

“Can I touch you here?” I asked.

“Yeah,” he said.

I rubbed the head of his dick, and it got big in my hand.  Bigger and bigger.  I grabbed the whole thing.  “Is this ok?” I asked, smiling.

“Yes!” he said.  He liked it.

“Can you show me?” I asked.

His dick was erect enough that I thought it might be veiny.  I started to look at the shaft for veins and couldn’t find any.

Then he showed me.  Wow, ok.  I understood.  Of course veins wouldn’t branch there and unbranch.  Veins are not like that.

“Mmm!  Pretty pretty!” I said.  “Can you hold it like this so I can take a picture?” I asked.


The picture is not super flattering, of the side / underside of my spouse’s dick.  The way it’s curving, it looks little.  Not to speak ill of little dicks–just that’s not accurate.  But you can see lots of pubic hair, the ridges of the corpus whatever, some veins slightly, the ridge of the head.

“You wanna see?” I asked and showed him the picture.  “Look!  Pretty!”

He looked at the picture of his own dick and said something about a skin tag.

“No, honey,” I said.  “That’s from where the foreskin was.  That’s from when they butchered you!”

“Oh,” he said.

“Yeah, the spots are in a line.  I’m sorry they did that to you,” I said, sad about circumcision.  “Glad you survived.  I can see it better, since your eyes are far away from your dick.  My eyes are often very close to your dick!”  I smiled.

sex part

Then we started having sex more enthusiastically.  He climbed on the bed and was on his knees, with his dick near my face.

“I was having a fantasy about you,” I said.  “Can I tell it to you?”

“Yes,” he said.

“Well you know how my lips are chapped right now?  So I was afraid they would be too rough and hurt you.  So I thought, what if you took some of that coconut oil and put it on my lips, so they would be soft, then pushed your dick against my lips, and then I sucked on it?”

“Mmm, sounds good!’ my spouse said.

“But you probably couldn’t do that, because of sensory stuff, huh?” I asked.

“No, I could do it!” he said.

“Wow!  Cool!” I said.

coconut oil

I opened the little jar of coconut oil, and he dipped his index finger into it.  I closed the jar, and he rubbed the coconut oil on my lips.  Felt sensual, pleasurable, and exciting.

Then he positioned the head of his dick against my mouth.  I held my mouth closed and round, like a little asshole he would need to push into, over the slippery coconut oil.

Yes, just what I wanted.  He was very excited and gasped.  He thrust some into my mouth, not very deeply.  I sucked happily and kept the pressure around his dick tighter than usual.

Then I lay my head back on the pillow.  He was very happy with me.

“Can you do it again?” I asked.

“Yes,” he said.

I uncapped the jar again.  “Please use more this time,” I said.

He dipped his finger in and allowed more oil to cling to it.  He rubbed the oil on my lower lip first, then the upper lip, and I quietly moaned from the pleasure of how he was touching me, and the anticipation of his dick slipping into my mouth.

Then he fucked my mouth some more.  This time he held my head with one of his hands, and I appreciated the support.  The slipperiness felt beautiful, and he pushed deeper this time, into the opening of my throat.

He held my head down on his dick with both of his hands, and I felt very close to him and happy.  I felt cared for, that he liked my fantasy and wanted to enact it.  The sex felt charged and very exciting, the thing I wanted most in the world.

altered state

I like going into an altered state.  My spouse is someone I feel safe enough with to be that vulnerable.  I’m grateful he’s kind, and I trust him enough to be that aspect of myself with another person.

By Nest

Curious, disabled Earth Goddess, telling the truth.

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