bloomsday +100

Is Ulysses an academic work of genius or a long fart joke? Probably both. Some might say that academia is one long fart joke.

I can relate to Leopold Bloom's secret life - going into an masturbatory reverie when he sees a woman flash her leg and he sees all the way up to her garter, wandering around the brothels of Nighttown, trying hard not to think about Molly's rendezvous. And of course Molly's secret life - 'pulling off' her first boyfriends in Gibraltar, musing over the differences between her husband's sex habits and her lover's, refusing Leopold for ten years yet coming over and over with her lover.

Tame by today's standards, but provocative none the less.

Or maybe just a fart joke. Raise a pint anyway.

strip club trips

Nothing like going to a strip club. what a rush of shame and guilt walking up to the door with my hat pulled down, glancing around to see if anyone's looking, ducking in quickly. but inside, a feeling of dark concealment and a rush of blood to my loins. there's also that unique combination of smells that i associate with mostly naked women and hidden sex - perfume, cigarette smoke and lysol.

There's also the thumping dance music and the selective dim lighting everywhere but the pool table.

Anyway, it's a habit I need to feed every now and then. I have one or two favorite local clubs and I try to sample clubs in the cities I visit on business. Here's the short story of a trip I made a couple of weeks ago.

Fake names have been changed to protect the not-so-innocent

I went to my usual haunt, technically a bikini bar where dancers are supposed to cover the important parts, and where the contact rules are discreetly ignored. Since I had a little time this trip I sat around to see who was dancing. The first two women didn't do anything for me and while I was sitting there a couple of other dancers came to sit with me. They seemed nice enough but I could see the sales pitch coming. When I heard that Tamika was on stage next, I opted to wait for her.

Tamika is a tall black woman whom I've had dances with in the past. She recognized me and we arranged for a private dance. As usual she sat on my lap waiting for a song to finish and she pulled up her top so I could fondle her small, firm tits. She has long, pointy nipples - she told me another guy said he could hang his coat on one of them. By the time the next song started I was hard as a rock.

I probably shouldn't have worn my jeans since they were probably a little rough on her, but she straddled me and found the right groove and started grinding. She offered her nipples to my hands and mouth as she talked dirty and breathed heavily in my ear. She wanted me so slap her ass, and I obliged. She switched positions a few times and near the end she knelt down and put her wrists on either side of my cock and started rubbing, running her fingers over the head every now and then. She looked at me and made lapping motions with her tongue. When she knew I was close, she straddled me again, put her pussy in just the right place and really started pumping. I grabbed her hips and thrust myself up against her until...

another dance with Tamika, another workout. Another memory for my fantasy cache

so it begins

It's tough for a voyeur like myself to be such an exhibitionist - telling complete strangers about my secret life. But here goes. I'll chronicle how I've maintained a sexual life apart from my long-term marriage, but one that doesn't jeopardize my marriage.

I live a straight arrow life so none of my colleagues or friends knows me as a strip club junkie, a voyeur photographer or a porn consumer. Nor do they suspect the alternative narrative going on inside. I feel a need to confess.

domine domine domine