journal: fucked, island, mentee

pictures from my first studio erotic shoot
by a talented local photographer -
JayBee, website: frisky frolic 

8:03 a.m. saturday: frottage sex with giggly honey - turned to raw aggressive energy - very satisfying

1:47 p.m. monday: gift sex - fucked by biggest cock I've probably ever taken - on my way there in the car sat on my dildo - only increased how horny I felt

11:22 a.m. thursday: islander closeted ripped guy - who was probably a gemini - hungry roll and mutual beat off

5:23 p.m. thursday: conversation with mentee-like friend visiting us for the weekend. I was so happy to hear him repeating some of the phrases I told him 3-4 years ago, like "nobody owns me," "I told my boyfriend from the start...". This from a sexy man who used to get hit by his boyfriend, told what he could and could not do, and hid his polyamorous nature. He can sure talk a blue-streak, has a heart of gold to build others up, and a sex drive like the energizer bunny.

10:11 p.m. friday: post erotic photo shoot jack off in the shower with muscled busy sweet friend with huge heart

7: 55: a.m. saturday: horny quickie with partner, pseudo-fucking. So glad to connect before a busy weekend of hosting and social fun.

mooning arches.

with friends at the arches

Browsing through my pictures I found the above image and it brought a smile to my face. I'm on the left, and the other two are a wonderful couple with about 30 years in between them.

They are both very attractive men. Interesting how the butt sometimes wears! Note to self: watch that hinny.

two transmitters, no receivers syndrome

stevewalkerartist.com - beautiful male art

He loaded the groceries into the fridge.

I quizzed him on the cheeses and how long they'd been in the fridge.
He answered about molds, softnesses, and how cheeses are made.

Impatient, I clipped his answers short.

Later, sitting in my low mini Ikea chair, I wanted to converse.

Chatted about something or other.
Not minding my words.

He excused himself to work on his laptop.

Coming back up to sit in the same room.

 

Two lovers wanting to connect.

At different times.

As another writer I read yesterday put it:
two transmitters, no receivers syndrome.

I sat perplexed at first.

What went wrong?

Remembering to speak kindly to myself.

Hearing softly what it was that I was wanting. 

Seeing past the head-speak.

 

First I'd forgotten to love myself.

To sit down and recuperate myself after the last two hours at the grocery store.

 

I'd forgotten then to love him,
and see his heart.  

Bask in his essence...

Happiness crept back in.

I could see where to go from here.

orgy in a dream

Last night I had an unusual orgy dream. Unusual because I hardly ever dream of orgies or actual penetrative sex.

I dreamed that some of my buddies were lounging around in a crowded apartment cuddling and talking. I pulled out the video camera. Tal Oregon Cutie asked me to film him. He sat in the window sill and Diminutive Smiley Flirt sat on his cock.

Interestingly soon my parents were in the room, on the floor, and my dad penetrated my mom in the same public fashion, he on his back. Mind you, I've NEVER had a dream of my parents having sex before. It's not something I think about really, or had any strong emotions about during the dream.

Next - in the dream - we were out in a wide desert and I was trying to find the orgy. I had another friend with me. I spoke to the person in charge, who assured me I'd find it. Looking around, the desert was flowing with water everywhere - mini-water-falls every few dozen meters. I settled on the ground with a group of guys waiting...

Often dreams parallel our awake-world experiences. Or dreams can appear to make no sense at all. In this case in "real life" I'd been thinking about HUMP, the local amateur porn festival and filming something with a handful of guys I know. But the parents-in-intercourse scene came completely out of nowhere. I'm amused actually because it represents something new and fresh.

I took a 12-week Jungian dreams course with four students in group format. We kept dreams journals and learned fascinating and useful strategies for the intersections of these two worlds - the awake world and dream world.

One of the concepts we learned is that recurrent nightmares with strong negative emotions can represent an area in our conscious life where we are stuck. Not until it is flowing again does the dream evolve to a new scenario, or stop being a nightmare. So the coming of new imagery and situations in dreams is often parallel with growth  - a good sign.

Dreams are often partially a mystery. We can uncover part of the meaning, but need not become too obsessed with explaining every detail. In fact, we can't. We can instead hold images or the question in our mind.

Dreams in many cultures represented great wisdom. Perhaps a portal to a very-real world of ancestors or other dimension. Perhaps if we are not addressing something in the conscious world, it makes itself manifest in the unconscious world. Thus achieving a balance and groundedness greater than our own individual wisdom. Using big words - a psychological homeostasis is achieved. Dreams unblock areas where flow is needed in our awake life.

This particular dreams teacher, in response to a question I had about sex in dreams, said that often people with a full or satisfactory sex life don't hardly dream of sex. Just like a functional partnership or relationship. But sex appears more frequently in dreams when it is missing or needing resolution on some front. Interesting trends.

you get me high, I give you sex

You get me high. I give you sex.

At least that's what the arrangement looked like. Hairy middle-aged bearded man asked if it was okay if they got high. Sure I said. Thank you for being polite to ask.

He lit up and inhaled. Then blew some smoke into bubble butt writhing moaning guy's mouth. Like CPR. Hot.

I'd spied them lying naked together, resting, and asked if they wanted some company. Soon we were fondling each other. Within a few minutes I had my condom on and was in bubble butt. He's one wiggly-worm cutie. Then bearded man put on his condom and got inside of me... all at the same time. How did I get so lucky?

I held off cumming. Things evolved, and it ended almost as quickly as it began.

Lying there after touching and chatting a bit, come to find out they've been friends for three years. They both seemed pretty happy and egalitarian, despite a few years' difference. They both seemed to enjoy the arrangement, friendship really.

I thought that in other realms someone might consider an exchange of this kind prostitution. The offering of sex for reward. But really, if this was the case, which was purely observational conjecture on my part, they both seemed more like chaps enjoying each other's company. The lines which some elements of society try to make so solid really seemed irrelevant here.

bathhouses

ancient roman bath houses

I love bathhouses. And bathhouses are weird. At least the ones I've been to.

On the one hand I get to go whenever I feel like sex. I don't have to organize it. In my last city I organized a few orgies, and each of them took several hours of planning - from 20 to 40 hours - no kidding.

Would you rather do 20 hours of organizing or just drive downtown in 15 minutes?

A gay bathhouse - at least here - is a place where guys go looking for a sex directly. There are long dimly-lit hallways with scores of rooms that are rented, each with mirrors and streaming porn. There are also more common play areas, from simple couches, to shower areas, steam rooms, saunas, and rooms with equipment like slings and benches, or holes and cubbies.

Mostly its an impersonal place. For those of us who can see passed that, there are incredible moments of closeness to be had.

Sometimes I feel like a jerk in a bathhouse.

The rules of engagement are so different from the outside. In the outside world, if someone says hi, you say hello back, maybe smile and chit-chat. Here most communication is done non-verbally, at least at first.

erotic fountain in Pompeii

There are so many guys, and attraction only goes both ways with a certain percentage, that you communicate with your eyes one of two things: interest or disinterest. Admittedly snap-judgment. People get it generally. Occasionally there is that pushy guy who keeps trying to grab your junk, or whatever, and you have to tell him no directly. But the vast majority are gentlemen and respectful non-verbally.

The last time I went a new younger guy, possibly 70 lbs (32 kg) overweight, walked past me and started making conversation. On the outside world I'd have paused and conversed. Here, he was one of dozens of potential encounters, all sending out feelers, so I kept the answer short and kept walking. And I felt like a jerk.

Large numbers of people. Quick assessments. Uber-practical environments devoid of elegance.

I went on to find a friend I've met there before a handful of times before, passionate bisexual guy that loves to top, and we had a fucking amazing time.

I've heard that gay bathhouses in other countries, like some in Europe, have more social components. Some have a clothed café area, lockers for guests to stay overnight, well-lit and beautiful saunas and steam rooms, lobbies, and then the more directly sexual areas. I look forward to experiencing the variety and a fuller range of energies welcome.

I love gay bathhouses on the one hand. And at the same time they are social anomalies.

to scruffy star trek masturbator

Hi scruffy star trek masturbator,

I'm writing knowing that you're looking for this post :). Do you approve of the playful name above?

I'm also writing this like an open letter, because I haven't done it in this format yet. And because it's slightly taboo to do it like this. For various reasons.

We met online over a year ago, and just finally met yesterday. I enjoyed meeting you for coffee. Finding out what big city you were from originally, hearing about your friends, your path from shyness through a very cool degree (running towards your fears), and the pendulum swing - as you put it - between personal sexual attitudes, was all really cool and rewarding. I'm happy for your life path.

The fact that we were able to play physically a few hours later was hot icing on the cake.

For that stimulating experience, can I name a few things that turned me on? I super-enjoyed your scruffy musky beard man-scent; so erotic smelling your light beard, the natural human oil. I enjoyed running my hands on your inner thighs, hairy yumminess. Beauty looks so many different ways. And that cock. You're so cute. A delicious cuddler.

I look forward to meeting up with you again in whatever capacity on the friendship spectrum.

Others read this and perhaps have different feelings and judgments come up for them. I write this from a place of esteem being in infinite amounts, not scarce and needing to be hoarded, protectively owned only between a few relations. Sincerity towards one does not diminish sincerity to others.

A book I read this year suggested an exercise - to write a letter to a person you feel an attraction to - noting the specific attractions, and expressing affection for them. Sending it was optional. This on the idea that encounters are not just about the physical, but also really about love. (Omg, I did it again and said a taboo word here.)

I feel happy to have met you.  
temporary goatee volunteer masturbator

solosexual?

Hairy sensual friendly yogi came over socially. I enjoyed meeting him for several reasons. Frankly he's quite unique - as many people are, and I liked finding out a bit about his life journey.

First off it intrigued me that he considered himself a solosexual at some point. The urban dictionary online defines this as someone who likes to masturbate a lot, but has no desire to have sex with others. It's interesting that many of us experience sexuality across a spectrum. Our sexual tastes often change with time.

It seems that this was the case with our yogi solosexual. Now he's interested in some play with other guys. Despite his intense sexual presence and experience with himself, he's had limited mutual experience with others.

So I felt it quite a privilege to be a part of this unfolding. I enjoyed how he lightly kissed, his hairy legs and tummy, his perpetual hard cock, kind words, and him cumming repeatedly. Masturbating mutually. I'd love to see him again, whether sensually or not.

We also talked about a possible future HUMP video. Hump is a local amateur porn festival. I've attended the last two years and been amused by the wide variety and creativity of the selected participating short clips.



from an solo masturbator blog
called masturbation and cum denial,
another variation
- on excitement and non-ejaculation

blowin'

Every one seems to have their favorite sexual acts. Whether it's blow jobs giving, receiving, making out, mutual masturbation, getting topped, or the more niche - pressure to the throat, harnesses, furry-wear, leashes, or sexy feet.

There are many other factors too, like general age preferences, body types, hair, general racial preferences, etc. I do have my preferences and favorites, but I try to branch out regularly and experience new dimensions. At least on principle, I also try not to judge each person by a category or label. I try to sense our mutual attraction, how I'm feeling, and so on, individual by individual. I find myself being attracted to some really cool people, case by case.

Wouldn't you prefer to be seen for who you are as a person rather than some category?

Recently I hooked up with a beautiful guy that comes racially from a group that I have less sexual experience with. In a new place. He seemed to be really into giving blow jobs. Long smooth and splendid.

Most people tire after a few minutes, but he kept enjoying his virtuosity. A professional. Having had a conversation recently with another friend who loves giving too, I consciously let go of my usual dance - more reciprocal play - and surrendered to the sensations. Wow it was amazing. Extended. And we got into all sorts of hot grabs.

He also had mixed a little bit of olive oil with the silicone lube we used later. I only registered the light smell after. Kinky and new.

Why do they call it a blow job, when there's actually more bobbing than either blowing or sucking?

Randomly, I find that in my new state of Washington there is a slight preference for hairier men. In my previous state - Utah - there seemed to be a general preference for smoother men. It is interesting to experiences the "discrimination" on both sides of the fence, in different locales. I'm naturally not very hairy, and it doesn't matter that much to me.

It's a complex thing, this attraction thing, and the many things we do with it. I revel in its many facets and opportunities. What a privilege to connect.



northwest U.S. island coast sunny moments on a hike

kansas city

It's nice to meet someone local. Soul-patch friendly kansas cat and I walked around overlooking the city. Then went to his place for some one on one. Love the inside of his thighs.

men who've killed

coming out of the water

Life provides the opportunity to meet some interesting people - including guys who have killed other people, usually in connection to being in the military.

This blog post might be too "taboo" for some readers. Or just too heavy. But it's something I've thought about, and something that faces many of our excellent men called upon to do this as part of their job. Not that I agree with all the wars. This is something that most of the people they encounter are unprepared to talk about or even listen to. So many ex-soldiers end up doing one of the worst things for their well-being: never talking to anyone about a subject that is HUGE to them.

I think I have this ability to allow people to open up. And I'm inquisitive and ask non-standard questions.

Let me put the most outrageous experience first. A while back ago I hooked up with someone on grindr while at the Grand Canyon. He had recently been in the military. Yummy crew haircut. We met late at night and he drove me to a beautiful look-out point. Yeah, kinda sounds like the start to a horror movie, but it was cool. We went to a bench, and under the stars had a pretty fleshy experience. We talked a bunch before and after. He opened up about he having had to kill people while in the service. Including running over children who would not step out of the way of their tanks - children put there by their parents, some of them with explosives. He wouldn't say how many he'd killed, but he did say that it was a lot. Men of the opposing army shooting at him mostly.

He talked about his job later as security for a store. And how he'd apprehended a young thief and brought him down to the ground, accidentally breaking his nose and creating a frightful bloody scene for the other shoppers. He explained that he'd been trained to kill, and had killed before, so scaling back his automatic techniques to just apprehending a person was taking some adaptive consciousness. Wow. I felt for him. And awed at the variety of our human experience.

Next is an international man I met at work. I first noticed him scoping me out in the break room. Smiley. Built. Always a little bit of attraction tension, but never did anything. Over months I got to know him and we'd google things about his country. Come to find out he'd served in his country's army and had also shot and killed invading soldiers. I asked him how he felt then, and now. He said that it was a part of his job, that all men his age were required to enlist, and that if he wouldn't have shot them, they would have shot him. (Notice he didn't say how he felt.) He seemed to have adapted, and had calming social skill and manner. I too felt safe around him.

I've met others too, and had the initmate experience of talking about this phenomena. Two other men I met through work. Conversed quietly and in confidence. How it's impacted their life. They've done remarkably well I marvel.

In another life as a missionary (another story for another time), I met with thousands of people in their homes. I can remember chills going up my spine as a woman talked of stabbing to death her abusive husband. The energy of that night came back into her eyes, the anger and single-mindedness, and while I was not afraid for my safety, I was creeped out, and wanted out.

A central-american gangster who had killed a few on the streets of L.A., and who loved talking to us. Another immigrant refugee who'd escaped with his life after taking many others. Mothers who had traveled to the U.S. illegally, been raped by their coyotes (name for their transporters) enroute, and witnessed crimes involving death.


The subject of death is one that I work with frequently. Whether it's a young man who's tried to kill himself, or a middle or older-aged person who's just been given a few more weeks to live with a terminal diagnosis, or the new man ordered to pull the trigger or keep driving, these magnificent people touch me. I think about them. There has to be a certain ability, among some, to speak about the unspeakable.

crazy weekend

Friday night, we go to bed.

Saturday night, I decide early, I'm going to have some fun. Head to the bathhouse late.

Find friend with the serpent tongue and play. See long eye-lashed sweetie and talk a bit. Come upon insatiable twink with the stunning nerdy glasses and have a sweaty good time. All three of these guys I've met before, two been more social with. Interesting encounter with gorgeous young/old tall couple in sauna.

Got home, but turned around for young business couple in high-rise. They were among the most asleep people I've met about their own wants, very sweet to each other, enjoyed being in between them for a bit, and meeting them.

Exhausted, came home to sleep. I haven't pulled an all-nighter like that since two years ago at Burning Man. Great heartfelt talk with my man who I felt connected with again. Wonderful dinner with friends, old and new.

Monday to work early. Day from hell. Busy and emergent. But hey, smile on my face. Full life.

no sugar day 193

 

So it's been 193 days since I've not had any processed sugar. That equals about six and a half months. This means no candy, desserts, or foods with sugar or sugar cane in the ingredients list. This does not mean no fruits or carbs. Lately my partner's reading about carbs has influenced the both of us to eat less carbs, with good results for the both of us. Processed carbs in large amounts increase the inflammatory response of the body. We've also been influenced by some of the Paleo diet, which includes more meats and protein throughout the day.

Now the disclaimer: On a few days I've had sweets, whether because a host made it and gifts it, or because my inner sugar monster could not be kept caged. But I've subtracted those days from the total. Otherwise it would be a little over seven months total, something like 212 days. So technically the 193 days are not all-the-way consecutive. Still this heralds a significant shift for me.

It's confidence-building to go to work, see the boxes of krispy creme donuts, bins of chocolate and candy on the counters, sugary pastries at the coffee shop, and not have any. Of course food preparation - bringing nutritional and filling stuff from home - is an essential to successfully meeting the goal (365 days sugar free).

amusingly so



 

Eyes exchange

at the showers

flesh enticing

smiles

 

pinkies linked

walking

I knew

with that  

he wasn't

from here

 

kiss and fondle

quirk

eager exploring

 

shadowed rumping

new consciousness

state

gentle cock

 

hairy ass groove

arms around my shoulders
brotherly
comradely
but with all the homo

and ejaculations  

 

later talk

discover

that I'm partnered

and he's married

 

open up

about his country

wife

father, boys

 

cell phone pictures

of his young sons

he adores

face lights up

 

tells me

about his father

who said,

if you don't marry her

you are dead to me

 

surprising intimacy

 

gentleman

walks me to my locker

younger than me

like warm friends

of my upbringing

abroad

 

unpretentious sweetness

accent mystery

 

 

We meet a second time

sparkling eyes

porn star like

 

both so turned on

 

I wonder

about his life

struggle... ?

what

I want to know

 

but this moment

is for passion

we surrender

 

not hard to do

full lips

gorgeous shaft

haircut

in the mirrors

 

I writhe

he moans

 

he surrenders

quite easily

delighting

thrusting horizontal bounce

enveloped

 

I wonder

about how

he does this

with her

 

aahhhh

oh my ggodddd

fuck!

his ecstasy

brings me back

 

you are so hot

he says

a few too many times

while I'm thinking it

about him

 

he calls my name

you are

the world to me

effusive

lava flow

 

I'm worried

but not too much

that all around us

people

will know

by the calling out

just exactly

who and how is fucking

loudly

amorously

 

I smile

at my exotic

fortune

and decide

not to care

 

we never

actually fuck

but pseudo

in a dozen ways

 

until the frenzy

carries us over

gushing

spazzing

 

smiling

at eachother

breathing deeper now

 

embrace

naked and wet

glistening

 

I cannot help

but think

the world's a better place

that two men

 

joined for a feast

of kindness

embrace

kissing and flesh

 

I'm still enjoying

amusingly so

fuck fest mix

This last time was perhaps the most racially mixed I've experienced there. I normally don't like to describe people racially, I think it's over-done in our society. (Along with dick size, age, etc.) Here I'll stray from that a bit.

On a bed two young Black bucks fucked three Caucasian studs. Around the bed stood Asian, Philipino, Arabic, and Hispanics. I started next to the mirror, in between an Eastern European guy and a hung Asian guy. Tall, hung, young, and ripped, I reached out... and to my delight he reached out back.

A forward sexy bottom eased over and sucked our cocks. Soon I was in him on the bed, doggy style, then he curled up under me, kissing. I'm going to be real here. He'd just been topped by a verrrrry hung muscled hottie, so the sensation for me was quite less. It was pretty hot, but after a few minutes of passionate energy my erection diminished.

I went to the living room and chatted in Spanish naked with two professional studly guys, beautiful bodies but skittish personalities. Mixed signals: flirtly and close, but often looking away and walking away. That's part of the game I guess.

Later in another room with a sling I lay with two other friendly guys, easier to interact with. A mixed bunch of body heights and muscle builds. A muscled ginger bloke with scruff and soccer socks topped another in the sling. Then switched and took it. Amazingly hot. White socks in the air, manly groaning of desire.

I did my acrobatics too and got off with a shaven head beautiful guy, smiley, solid booty. I'm grateful to the host for his gift to our community and myself. Rich experience. Everyone I saw used condoms - provided by the host. Cool connections.

gay men's weekend

I was away for a few days to a gay men’s weekend training in Arizona. Visions of group sex? No. But magical. Do gay men need any training? Not for some things. But yes for others, I’d contend. The weekend was put on by a men’s organization called Mankind Project – a specific gateway weekend for gay, bi, and trans men. Imagine that, coming to a group of men where it’s a safe place to look introspectively at yourself as a gay man. Cradled by men who understand.

About 35 staff men and 21 new men participated. We bunked in cabins on a mountain top, pine trees whispering quietly with the wind. I got to connect with men that I’d met a few years ago, as well as meet many new awake men, and spend time with my partner. Admittedly I had mini-crushes on four of the fellow staff, and three of the new guys. Not unusual for me. I was put in charge of 4 of the processes on the weekend, and I thoroughly enjoyed them. I marvel at the extent of my emotions. These weekends challenge me in a good way. My thighs are sore from one of the activities, and I have a slight sunburn!

It is considered an initiation – called the New Warriors Training Adventure. Pretty cool stuff.

Finally, it was a boost to my ego, to still be found sexy and desirable. Will that want ever go away? To be mutually attracted to other men, glorious men of high accomplishment, beautiful curves, sweet connection. Happily I’ll be seeing some of them again at Burning Man in a few months.

I was touched to meet more intimately four trans men, what an honor… a man with two canes, a gaw guy, a few San Francisco hotties and intellectuals, a man who had just come out of a threesome, two other couples, doctors, curators, techies, students, construction men, airline stewards, a fireman, and a rich array of our rainbow kind.

campfire

chillin by the campfire - can't wait till summer's here again!

keeps us together

Two things have kept my partner and I together so far, among many other things. They are: 1. Giving each other's bodies and time to eachother, and 2. Blessing each other. Recently we've had several friends, male-male couples, break up or go through some difficult times. While there are many factors, including basic need-fulfillment and compatibility, these are among the top two learnable traits that I see as being helpful in sustaining a long-term relationship.

1. Give each other's bodies to each other. Maybe I don't feel like it, but if he does, I humor him. And funny thing is, energies can shift pretty quickly. Sex is at the root of many couple's problems. We know couples that love eachother dearly, but haven't had sex more than a couple of times a year. For some it really bothers them. Or couples that are sad not to be getting more from their partner. Or in a certain way. (I haven't heard of one couple yet complain that there's too much sex between them, though I imagine they exist somewhere.)

My body is my own. It doesn't belong to my partner. His body does not belong to me. But we give it freely to eachother, within the bounds of respect, love, and primal urge. We have this spoken agreement. If he's tired, and I want to be sexual with him, then the burden of the sexual activity is mine. And vice versa. Oh darn. We generally don't say no to each other. I'm flattered and find that most often my mood changes to match his desire and enter this magical realm if I didn't feel it initially.

Giving the body is also a start to giving time, interest, going jogging if he wants to go jogging, or giving other non-sexual and non-physical things freely. Just because I value him, and know that I'm building one of the things that are most important to me: us.

2. Bless each other. This looks like one of us being the "big boy" or the calm and collected one for the other, especially when he needs it. We take turns taking this role for each other. Maybe he's stressed before a big dinner that we're about to host, and I take a moment to gather him in my arms, look him in the eyes, and see him. And thank him, and remember why we're both doing this. Or maybe I'm feeling insecure about something, and he holds me and whispers sweet reassurances. It also looks like one of us doing more listening, suspending reaction till another time, just supporting. All focus on the other person for a few minutes.

When a person feels heard, seen, appreciated, they can continue in a much better space.

This hit home to me in listening to two good friends, a couple in trouble. One would express his sexual insecurities (a very vulnerable spot). The other would react flatly that what was communicated was not his intention. I wished instead that he had not reacted, at least for a time, and simply supported his partner for a bit. Put on some grandfather or wise sage energy, set his own issues aside for a bit, a be there for his man. His turn would come later. But one at a time. Listen, hear, encourage the other partner to say what they're wanting to say. Or comfort when they're down for no apparent reason. Not fixing so much as supporting.


These two things help in the pursuit past a medicre or average relationship to an excellent one.

sweet nothings

When we first got together I was incredulous. He'd say sweet things to me as we lay in bed at night going to sleep. He tired and sleepy. It happened several nights. The comments were so direct and exactly what I - or any man - would love to hear. So perfect that I doubted them. Like "I'm so happy to be with you. You're so special to me. I'm so attracted to you." Or I discounted them somewhat because he was tired and going to sleep - in that semi-conscious state.

 

He'd doze off. Then awake with another sweet nothing. Then doze off again, then stir to say something incredibly sweet again. Waking me gently.

 

Two years later, these moments are some of my most cherished. These moments don't come always in the day. There can be a few days in between when we are stressed, or working separate shifts. But 90% of the time, I can count on this bedtime ritual. And always a goodnight kiss.

I accept them. Let them in. Count myself very fortunate that my love's last words while he's sleepy are not cross or cranky words, but by default praises and word gifts.
 

These sweet nothings...

are more appropriately named to me...

sweet everythings. 

hot springs II

A few more pictures of our trip a few days ago, taken by friend photographer Mark Henley.