CV Rick

The Stripper Sex Chronicles - Part Three

Warning:  This story series will contain scenes of a sexual nature. If this offends you, please don't continue reading it.

Misty walked into the Math Lab on a Saturday afternoon, unannounced, unexpected. She stepped into the room and I was captivated. She had sparkling green eyes and straight brown hair that flowed across her face, down past her shoulders. She wore a white sun dress that contrasted her tanned skin. Her legs were muscular like a gymnast and she stepped gracefully in precipitously high heels.

Usually very smooth, Dylan was visibly shaken. He jumped up from the staff desk, spilling papers and pencils across the floor. Then he slipped on one of the pencils as he rushed around the desk catching himself before falling. He ran to her and hugged her desperately.

After several minutes of excited catching up he walked her over to the staff desk. He couldn't speak correctly when he motioned toward me.

“Misty, I'd guess,” I said holding out my hand. She nodded and took it, her bracelets tinkled musically as she squeezed. Her hands was soft and small; fragile even. “I'm Rick.”

“Nice to meet you.” Her voice was very soft, nearly inaudible.

“Visiting?” I asked.

Dylan found his voice and jumped in. “She's moving back here. She's enrolling in school again.”

“Which program?” I asked.

She looked at me and smiled. At least I think it was a smile because her mouth was framed by cute upturned corners favored in models and actresses.

“I'm not sure what I want to study. I'll start here at the Community College and get some general requirements out of the way.”

“Isn't that great?” Dylan asked.

“Yes, it's great.”

The Stripper Sex Chronicles - Part Two

Warning:  This story series will contain scenes of a sexual nature. If this offends you, please don't continue reading it.

She did wear a bikini while mowing her lawn; a yellow one.  Her name was Debbie. She had long, dark brown hair and she was addicted to working out. It showed.  Debbie was married to Bob, a local high school football coach.  He was a six-foot four-inch muscle with a gruff voice and a crushing handshake. 

Debbie and Bob came right over and introduced themselves with a tray of cookies and an invitation to a barbecue.  We got to know the neighbors all right away.  There were cookouts and beers in the front yards daily. Everyone was most interested in Dylan right from the outset because every time he'd ride up on his Harley there was a different girl riding behind him on the seat.  He wasn't discriminatory:  blonds, brunettes, redheads were all seen riding that motorcycle. 

“Doesn't Dylan getting tired of all these different girls,” Gretchen from down the street asked me one day.  She had a little catering business and her husband drove a tool truck. 

“He doesn't seem to.” 

“I think he should find a nice girl and settle down,” she said with a nod. 

“He's in love with this girl named Misty.  At least that's what he claims,” I said. 

“What's she like?”

“To tell you the truth, Gretchen, I've never met her.  But he talks about her all the time, even when these other girls are around.”

“That sounds like an excuse to me.  He's imagined a relationship to block any others from starting.” 

Gretchen might've been on to something.

An Infidelity Kit - Test For Cheating

My ex-wife accused me of cheating on her.  I denied it.  Conventional wisdom holds that if he denies it, it must be true.  What do you do if it's not true, and the accusations fly?  She was convinced, or she wanted it to be true so badly that she had to make herself believe it. 

The woman I was accused of having an affair with was in my graduate program and we were working on a project together.  She was exotic, Venezuelan. She was beautiful and intelligent.  I didn't find out till later that she was receptive to having an affair with me.  By that time I didn't want anything to do with either of them. 

My ex-wife called this woman at home several times.  She called this woman's husband at his work and "exposed" our affair.  She screamed at me and threw knives and dishes.  She kicked me and hit me to keep me from sleeping.  At this time I was working full-time, carrying a full education load, teaching part-time, and just barely keeping everything together.  I had little time to sleep as it was.  She slept during the day.  She was ready to go when I stumbled in the door at nine.  She kept it up till I left for work at five. 

I found out years later one of us had been having an affair.  It wasn't me. 

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Growing Up Mormon - Sex on a Temple Trip - Part Two

The Bishop drove a large black Cadillac.  It had plush tan leather seats that embraced you in warmth when you sat in them.  The car was spotless and whispered down the road with a smoothness that swayed where my car bumped.  We packed his car with teenagers for the temple trip.  Shane and Julie sat in the front with Bishop Hare.  Blaine, Randy, and I sat in the back.  I was right behind the Bishop, Randy sat beside me. 

The Bishop guides the spiritual health of his congregation.  He hears confessions, but not like Catholic Priests.  Face to face he questions, interrogates, and draws out those confessions and then renders judgment.

Randy and I started the Temple Trip holding hands.  We liked each other well enough, but neither of us were in love.  I'd have called it holding our place until someone better happened by.  We were each other's past time.

Holding hands on a long, boring drive wasn't enough entertainment, especially with the Mormon Tabernacle Choir playing on the car stereo.  I leaned over to kiss her on the cheek, but she turned right as I leaned up and the kiss was on the mouth.  It was brief, innocent, but there it was, we'd kissed in the Bishop's car.  I was embarrassed.  I looked at Bishop Hare's rear view mirror.  No eye contact.

The Mormon Temples are where the most secret, or sacred, ceremonies happen.  Endowments are the most common, but since I never received my endowments it's a bit mysterious to me.  I know you get a pretend name and stand in a Holy circle while worthy actors recreate the circumstances of the war in heaven.  Interestingly, Brian David Mitchell the man who kidnapped 14-year-old Elizabeth Smart, raped her and declared her his additional polygamist wife was the guy who played Lucifer in this ritual at the Salt Lake City Temple. 

Other ceremonies are marriages and baptisms for the dead.  Yes, Baptizing the Dead.  Mormons baptize people who are already deceased and they do it by proxy from long lists of dead people culled from government or religious records, funerals, obituaries, and postings from all over the world.  This is the rite that young men and women go to the temple to perform. 

Science Friday - Sex in Space

James Bond did it in Moonraker with Dr. Holly Goodhead.  It was part of the sci-fi horror Supernova.  But has zero-g space sex been tried by our astronauts? Or by Russia's Cosmonauts?

A new report by The Guardian reports that both NASA and Mission Control in Moscow have authorized "studies" into space sex.

Pierre Kohler, a respected French scientific writer, says in The Final Mission: Mir, The Human Adventure that the subject is taboo both at Nasa and at mission control in Moscow, but that cosmic couplings have taken place.

"The issue of sex in space is a serious one," he says. "The experiments carried out so far relate to missions planned for married couples on the future International Space Station, the successor to Mir. Scientists need to know how far sexual relations are possible without gravity."

 

So these sessions are so hush-hush that the agencies will not go on the record and confirm the reports or admit to the claim made in the article that the sessions were filmed . . . sounds like a natural for YouTube, doesn't it?  What positions would succeed in a zero-G coupling, not missionary, it seems.  No Fundamentalist Christians in space, thank you very much.

Twenty positions were tested by computer simulation to obtain the best 10, he says. "Two guinea pigs then tested them in real zero-gravity conditions. The results were videotaped but are considered so sensitive that even Nasa was only given a censored version."

Only four positions were found possible without "mechanical assistance". The other six needed a special elastic belt and inflatable tunnel, like an open-ended sleeping bag.

Mr Kohler says: "One of the principal findings was that the classic so-called missionary position, which is so easy on earth when gravity pushes one downwards, is simply not possible."

Now that's the best use of tax dollars since the invention of the Fischer Space Pen.

- rick, ready to join the 211 miles high club