Sinful Sunday: Hotel Bed

Another Sunday, another peek at Jill's ass.  This shot was taken at a hotel where we spent a couple nights last week.

See who else is being sinful at Molly's Daily Kiss!

Sinful Sunday: Come to Bed With Me

Another Sunday, another picture of Jill's ass, this one taken during a few moments of relaxation on a childless Friday night.

See who else is being sinful at Molly's Daily Kiss!

Sinful Sunday: Good Morning

Here's a shot I took of Jill moments before I woke her for sex.

See who else is being sinful at Molly's Daily Kiss!

The Fringe Benefits of Stay-At-Home Fatherhood

Tweeted this on Tuesday.  It didn't get much of a response, but even if it had, it bears repeating.

Just walked into the children's section at my local library, where storytime had just let out. A huge group of moms were gathered.
— Jack (and Jill) (@jackandjillcpl) March 26, 2013

One dad playing lovingly with his child amidst a sea of moms. I might as well have been the hairless werewolfboy from Twilight.
— Jack (and Jill) (@jackandjillcpl) March 26, 2013

I like the idea that I will inspire many vibrator-assisted orgasms amongst these ladies when they get home.
— Jack (and Jill) (@jackandjillcpl) March 26, 2013

Not only is stay-at-home fatherhood a great opportunity to bond with one's children, but it can also be an enormous ego boost.

- Jack

We Won an Award!

Well, we were nominated, anyway.  This time the nomination comes from Brigit Delaney at The Lustful Literate.  Given our blogging lull of the last few months, Brigit's blog is fairly new to us, but we hope to change that, as Brigit has shown herself to be a pretty prolific blogger with tons of worthwhile content.  Check her out.


We're always pleased to be recognized by our blogging peers!  However, given that we've thusfar published a mere four posts in 2013, the honor is even greater.  We hardly consider ourselves bloggers lately, much less inspiring ones.  Therefore, we are thrilled to accept this award.

And now, onto the rules:

1. Display the award logo on your blog.
2. Link back to the person who nominated you.
3. State 7 things about yourself.
4. Nominate 15 other bloggers for this award and link to them.
5. Notify those bloggers of the nomination and the award's requirements.

The first two rules have been followed.  On to number three:

7 Things About Us:

Jack's Things

1.  I don't like eggs.

2.  I'm a stay-at-home dad.

3.  I've never lived outside of Northern California.

4.  My alcohol preference is Jameson Irish whiskey, served neat.

5.  I lost my virginity at age sixteen.

6.  Monogamy is difficult for me, and has been to some extent for all of my adult life.

7.  Despite the above, I can recall only a single instance of infidelity on my part.

Jill's Things

1.  I've always wanted to own a bed and breakfast.  I even created a hypothetical menu. 

2.  I love being kissed on my neck or behind my ears.  It makes my whole body tingle.

3.  I am an elementary school teacher.

4.  I love murder mysteries and can usually solve them before the end.

5.  I love to travel by air.

6.  It's difficult for me to focus on one thing.  I have to multitask.

7.  I function best in absolute chaos.  (Editor's note:  No.  No you don't.)

Our Nominations:

Note that we are not nominating fifteen bloggers, because as far as we know, the majority of blogs we follow have already been nominated by others.  We will instead nominate as many bloggers as we can think of who provide regular inspiration for our own blog.  We do this with the understanding that some may have, unbeknownst to us, already been nominated.  If that's the case, please accept our apologies for unintentional double-dipping.  Additionally, we have undoubtedly been inspired by more blogs than these, but as our blogging has suffered of late, so has our blog-reading.  If there's anyone we've neglected to mention, please accept our apologies.

1.  Rebel's Notes 

2.  Cougar in Training 

3.  The Pleasure Principle 

4.  A Tale of Bi and Bi 

5.  Light My Fire 

6.  Sex With Rose 

7.  Erotic Adventures

8.  Between You and I 

9.  It Girl, Rag Doll 

10.  T is for TMI

So there you have it.  We'll inform all of our nominations of the honor, though we won't be offended if anyone chooses not to participate.  We know this sort of thing isn't everyone's cup of tea, and we'd hate to give any of our fellow bloggers an obligation.  It's just our way of telling them we enjoy their work.

The Night Everything Worked Out

In our last post, published way back in mid-February, we talked about an "anti-Valentine's Day party" thrown by some friends of ours.  We'd been invited to said party despite the fact that we assumed it was a singles-only event, and while I joked that we might be set upon by a crowd of bitter singles and mutilated beyond recognition, I can say for the record that we did attend the party and we are still alive.

Beyond that, we managed to have a pretty good time.  We were, despite my assumption to the contrary, the only couple in attendance.  The gathering consisted mainly of women, though there were a handful of single males as well.  Some people I knew, though some I did not.  Some of the attendees were members of my high school graduating class, others were people I knew from elsewhere - friends of friends and such - while others I was meeting for the first time.  No one looked down their noses at us for daring to breach their romantically-unattached inner sanctum.  Overall, we had a good time.

Especially Jill.  She tends to drink at home, though when we go out she is often the designated driver.  That night, however, we hadn't discussed which of us was going to take one for the proverbial team and stay sober.  We hadn't planned on being at the party very long; we'd only gotten the babysitter until 9:30 and figured even that was probably pushing it.  Over the course of a couple hours, one drink, or maybe two, for each of us, was probably reasonable.

I should also mention that we managed to enlist Jill's sister to watch our daughter.  She's unreliable as a sitter, often calling us home long before the agreed-upon end time.  Her general flakiness has proven frustrating on more than one occasion.  That we offered to let her babysit at our house rather than hers probably sweetened the deal, and while we told her we'd be home by 9:30, both Jill and I expected to start receiving texts shortly after we arrived at the bar.  Because there's precedent for that.

As soon as we arrived, before I could get myself a drink even, I got pulled aside to catch up with a couple friends.  By the time I looked over at Jill she had a beer in hand and was engaged in raucous conversation with M and a couple of our mutual friends.  She wasn't drunk yet, but I knew it wouldn't take long.  As the evening continued on, I looked over and saw that my wife was having a blast.  I didn't mind staying sober.

Eventually I made my way over to Jill.  By this point she was more or less drunk.  Jill gets affectionate when she drinks, and while the requisite flirting with M did occur, she also flirted with a number of the other women at the party including M's conservative best friend, who had fortunately had a couple drinks herself, flirted right back, and laughed it off.

Jill whipped out her tits so many times that the bartender named a cocktail after them.
— Jack (and Jill) (@jackandjillcpl) February 16, 2013

Other things Jill did that night include pulling out her tits ostensibly whenever she got the urge, though in a fairly surreptitious fashion; and talking quite loudly about our having had a threesome with M.  No one seemed to hear - she didn't mention it when engaged in conversation with anyone else - but that didn't stop M from playing along.  If anyone overheard, she rationalized, they'd assume it was a joke.

By nine o'clock neither of us had heard from Jill's sister, which was encouraging.  Still, we expected to start getting texts around 9:15, asking if we were going to be home on time.  We didn't.  We didn't even get a text at 9:30, or 9:35.  Around ten o'clock, after more than a half hour of avoidance on my part, I asked Jill if she'd heard from her sister.  She said she called her right around 9:30.  Our daughter was fast asleep, and her sister told us to stay out as late as we wanted.  That was unexpected.

We finally left around 11:45, stopping to pick up Taco Bell en route because my wife craves cheap pseudo-Mexican fast food when she's been drinking.  M was close behind us; we had her hang back until we verified that our daughter was still asleep and dismissed the babysitter.  When that was done, we texted her the all clear.

Jill had already poured wine by the time M got upstairs.  I took a seat on the armchair while the two ladies got comfortable on the sofa and picked up where they'd left off at the bar.  I felt my arousal build as I watched them kiss, first tentatively, teasing.  Before long, though, their play intensified, hungry mouths biting gently as tongues darted between lips and hands found thighs and breasts.  As Jill nuzzled and sucked on her soft neck, M beckoned me to the couch with a cocked head and a raised eyebrow.

I wasted no time, squeezing in behind my wife and freeing her breasts.  As I kneaded them with my hands, Jill leaned back so our guest could have a taste.  It was only a moment before I moved around to join M, stopping only long enough to cast off Jill's top.  We sucked her nipples heartily, noisily, eventually coming together on the same breast, then switching to the other.  Jill reclined on the sofa and caressed her thighs, her moans soft and steady.

It was then that I noticed that M was unbuckling Jill's belt and opening her jeans.  Her hand sunk beneath the soft fabric of her panties, and the smile on M's face when she discovered Jill's wetness betrayed her elation.  As her fingers danced within, Jill hurried to open my own jeans and withdrew my cock.  As she swallowed it whole, M stripped her from the waist, leaving jeans and panties discarded and out of sight.  Now wearing just her bra - barely, I might add - Jill licked and sucked as M got to work, caressing her wantonly before replacing her fingers with her tongue.

As my wife drew me deeper into her mouth, M applied long, deft strokes to Jill's wetness, making eye contact with me every few licks.  I tried to concentrate on Jill's mouth and the erotic things she was doing with it, but as she neared climax it became evident that I was but an afterthought.  And rightfully so.  I slipped from her mouth and lowered my mouth onto her breast just as she began to convulse.  Her moans were loud and unrestrained.  She reached down and held M's head in place as her hips bucked.  I imagined the tightness of Jill's thighs against my face as I licked and sucked her nipple, and when her orgasm had subsided I lay against her chest, still rising and falling rapidly even as M came around to resume their makeout session.

When she could speak again, Jill expressed amusement at the fury and intensity of her orgasm, and suggested we move things into the bedroom.  On the way, she stopped in to check on our daughter, still fast asleep.  And that's how we found her later, as we walked M to the door.  Given the number of near-misses and babysitter-related drama we've experienced on the quest for another threesome with M, we couldn't have imagined that all we needed to do was let her fall asleep for the night.

On the (Lack of) Importance of Valentine's Day

Three years ago we published a post wherein we talked about how an unattached female friend of ours threw a Valentine's Day party for single people, an anti-Valentine's Day party if you will, designed for single women to network with other single women for the purposes of analyzing their failed relationships, complaining about how they'd been screwed over by men, and presumably organizing some sort of hunting party and killing and dismembering either their unfaithful and/or emotionally distant ex-boyfriends or else successful couples that have the audacity to be happy.

It appears that I may have been hasty in my assessment of the party in question.  First off, it apparently wasn't a women-only event.  Couples might even have been invited, though at the time it didn't seem that way, and I know that Jill and I certainly didn't get an invite.  But whereas I categorized it as a get-together for bitter, lonely individuals who can't get dates, much less find love, it was likely a low-key gathering of single people held for the purposes of deflecting societal pressure on that most Hallmarky of Hallmark holidays.  I can't fault any single individual for wanting to be part of something like that.  Hell, I can't fault the attached for it either.  As someone who has no problem making grand gestures of love on random days throughout the year, I'm all for ignoring Valentine's Day.

Let me rephrase that:  I would be all for ignoring Valentine's Day if my wife didn't have co-workers and friends whose envy motivates me the way revenge motivates the protagonist in a squalid 1970s grindhouse flick.  Essentially, the holiday - sorry, "holiday" - does little for me; while I enjoy hearing Jill gush and brag about the dozen roses I had delivered to her place of work, I know that she doesn't expect them just because it's Valentine's Day.  While I am comfortable being romantic on February 14 each year, I am also pretty romantic on February 13 and February 15, and for that matter August 29.  I love the fact that my wife is aware that Valentine's Day is a corporate holiday designed to sell greeting cards, chocolate, flowers, and lingerie, and for that matter I love the fact that she refuses to go out on Valentine's Day as restaurants are overcrowded and often feature a limited and expensive prix fixe menu.

That doesn't mean that, to some extent, Jill doesn't want me to pull out all the stops on Valentine's Day.  We may sidestep the issue of overcrowded and overpriced restaurants by having a nice dinner out several days beforehand - this year we celebrated Valentine's Day with a four-course dinner out more than a week in advance - but for us Valentine's Day still tends to include cards with heartfelt messages, gifts including candy, and hot sex that generally incorporates a half-dozen or more positions.  But then all of those things are fair game on any other day.  Jill just doesn't want to have to forego them on the one day a year that everyone she knows is openly talking about them.  Except for the hot sex.  Most of our friends aren't the sort to talk about that.

Getting back on topic, the friend who was responsible for that jaded anti-Valentine's Day party is throwing another one tomorrow night.  We've been invited.  Now, knowing the friend as well as we do, we are reasonably certain that we will not be tarred, feathered, and set ablaze.  In fact, we will not be the only couple in attendance.  Upon perusing the guest list, it appears that the couples-to-singles ratio is such that the couples could easily take the singles should they try anything.  And they'd have to be crazy to try anything.  We may be happy, relaxed couples and they may be on-edge, perpetually-pissed-off singles who haven't gotten laid in months (not saying they are, just that they might be), but the first sign of aggression will be met with swift and decisive action on our part.

Ahem.  I'm not expecting a battle royale tomorrow night.  Just some laughs, some dancing, and probably some magnesium hydroxide slipped into my cocktail by some single guy who wishes he was married to Jill.  We'll keep you posted.  Until then, however, we just wanted to wish you all a good day, whether you celebrate Valentine's Day, Singles Awareness Day, or some other fringe holiday or pseudo-holiday.  (Did you know that today is my half-birthday?  It is.)

-Jack