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I've said it before, so long-time readers will remember that when Master and I first fell in love, and when we all began to think about creating a life together, He told me that He was unable to engage in "normal" sexual activity that involved vaginal penetration. He assumed, and I believed Him, that it was a result of His diabetes, and so we made up our minds that we'd find ways to be intimate with one another -- without that element.

In those early days, He was usually only able to achieve orgasm by humping away for hours on end on an old down blanket that we came to refer to, affectionately, as "the fluffy. Eventually, He and I found our way to something resembling regular penis-in-vagina sex, but it still was a marathon endeavor. Most often He and I would finish one of those Herculean fucking sessions drenched in sweat and gasping for breath -- with every muscle screaming from shear exertion.

That was our reality, and it is important to understand that history so that today's story can be really appreciated.

Because. This morning. Awakening at about 7:15. Feeling horny. He and I made love, not once, but twice. Then. We got up. Had breakfast. Spanked. And then made love again. He, aged 61 -- and me, aged 55.

This man, who once was bereft of normal sexual responses, would likely put most 16 year olds to shame. It surprises and delights us both, especially when it becomes so undeniably remarkable -- like today.

swan