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Throwback Thursday: Hidden attributes*

**Warning to readers:  this post is X-rated**

*This note was written before The Breakup

It’s time I asked a question that I have pondered over and over about your relationship with The Wife.

How in the name of all that is holy can she live with that cock of  yours and not be constantly riding it?

There, I said it.  It’s out there.  I know you know.  You’re hung like a horse.  Fitting for a guy who grew up on a farm.

I’m going to be graphic, so if you can’t take it, tune out now.

As you know, I can hold your manhood in both hands and still not grasp the entire length of your shaft.  Curious, I just measured my palms with a tape measure — 3 1/2 inches.  So I’m estimating about 9 inches of luscious man part for our enjoyment.

Your girth is also bigger than my wrist.  I know you’ve noticed this — I recently perceived that you were measuring my wrist by wrapping your thumb and forefinger around it.   I know you weren’t measuring for a bracelet. I’m sure you notice that when you wraps your hand around your penis that it is bigger than my wrist.  Again, my tape measure tells me that the circumference of my wrist is a little less than six inches.

For all of you people out there who think size doesn’t matter — you are men with small dicks or women who don’t know any better.  Of course, if you have the tool you should know how to use it.  You once told me that owning the tool didn’t make you a professional mechanic — your way of saying you don’t screw around.  Well, you’re one hell of an amateur mechanic.

You definitely have the skill to use the amazing endowment with which you have been blessed.  I’ve told you I want to shake the hand of the woman who taught you how to please so well.  Is it The Wife?  You say it’s me.  I think that is a pitiful line.

You are the most AMAZING lover I’ve ever had.  Hell, it’s worth keeping you around for the sex alone.  You’re also extremely handsome, and sexy.  You drive me crazy.  You have since the day I met you.  After five minutes of conversation I knew I wanted you.

The first time we went to bed you were nervous — but your skill in the woman-pleasing department was incredible.  And it keeps getting better.  The more we are together, the more mind-blowing the sex becomes.

Is The Wife fucking you to sleep every night and waking up giving it to you before she lets you out of bed?  I doubt it. You act deprived.  Of course you’re a man.  And you know your stamina and recoup time are terrific — and damn near miraculous for a guy your age.  You can go for an hour, holding back, bringing me to orgasm over and over again. You don’t get tired.  You can usually do it again within about 30 minutes.  Not a 30-year-old’s recoup time, but pretty damn good.

When we spend the night together we typically do it about five times.  Once or twice before bed, once in the middle of the night, a couple of times in the morning.  If I lived with you I would be in a state of sexual bliss constantly.

You were in rare form this evening.  You’re pretty quiet and don’t usually express what you want.  You’re not generally graphic, either.  Tonight you must have been 10 times more horny than usual because you sent me texts that I’m sure made you blush.  I dished it right back, telling you exactly what I wanted.

You replied: “It’s mutual – you turn me on like no other.  You are AWESOME.  That’s why I love you…”

Now we get to the heart of the matter, so to speak.  Do you really love me for the sex?  I’m pretty good at other stuff, too…you’ve praised me in the past for my good heart, for being loving and thoughtful, etc.  A guy you age certainly isn’t confusing a hormonal rush with love.

Or are you?

My heart is with you.  Always.

*This note was written Pre-Breakup