Crystal pursed her lips together, trying not to laugh at my stupid joke, “Oh yeah, what’s her name?” she asked with a bit of a smirk.

I pride myself on being witty and quick on my feet. I’m always the first with a smart retort or a sarcastic comment but I was already stifling giggles. The “master bullshitter” was almost humbled.

“Ming Li,” I said, “Her name is Ming Li.”

With that, we both busted out laughing and enjoyed the moment. However, little did we know that an inside joke and, worse yet, a running gag had been born.

As With Most Good Lies…

Ming Li was not pulled out of thin air, behind her, as with most good lies, is a kernel of truth. I do have a very strong attraction to Asian women and my fetish for schoolgirl skirts is well known. Ming Li, if real, would definitely be a fantasy come true for me.

However, even though she is based upon a very real fantasy (and more than a few pornos), she is a very fake person.

The Evolution of Ming Li

Ming Li started out as a schoolgirl. Over the weeks and months that followed my outburst, I began to spin an elaborate story around her.

She was, at that time, an exchange student at the college studying English. Supposedly I had met her in one of my journalism classes and we had hooked up there.

Later on, Crystal began to take her over and Ming Li was a model photo shoots for Crystal. She also, during this time, did a lot of nude posing for paintings as well.

Back and forth it has gone over the years, she’s been an editor, a scientist, a massage therapist and much more. Most recently, she’s been a secretary for me with my consulting business. The only things that have remained consistent over the years are A) Her amazing speed, able to be done with sex in just a few minutes or even seconds and B) Her inhuman skill and ability to please members of both sexes.

Yes, she’s an amazing woman, especially for someone who isn’t real. However, despite being a figment of our imaginations, she’s had a very real impact on our relationship and, unlike most mistresses, her impact has been for the better.

A Much-Needed Laugh

Ming Li’s role in our relationship has been to keep things lighthearted between us. Sex can be deadly serious at time, especially when things aren’t clicking, but it’s hard to be too upset when you’re “fighting” over an imaginary Asian schoolgirl.

For example, whenever one of us is not in the mood one night, the other simply says, “That’s fine, I’ll just call Ming Li tomorrow.” Inevitably, the fear of not being up to snuff gives way to laughter and, with laughter often comes romance.

It’s hard to feel bad about disappointing a loved one when he or she is cracking jokes. Take away the disappointment, take away the pressure and it’s easier to get in the mood.

It seems strange to think that a fake mistress can actually help us with real sex, but she does. Not only does she relax us and keep us smiling, but that laughter assures us both that there are no real mistresses waiting in the wings and that everything is on the up and up.

After all, it’s hard to joke about something you feel guilty about.

Thank You Ms. Li

Even today the tale of Ming Li grows. With every step the story gets more outrageous, more unbelievable and more fun. She’s given us much to smile about and yet another joke to call our own.

She may not be real, but she is a very special part of our relationship nonetheless. A silent partner that always keeps us smiling (and at least a little aroused).

Ming Li, I don’t know what we would do without you…

However, my search for the perfect vibrator has been very frustrating. I’ll buy something that looks like it will work, only to be let down when it’s either too bulky or not powerful enough.

As Jonathan mentioned yesterday, our air has been out and there has been somewhat of a revival in oral sex because even though I have nothing against getting hot and sweaty, I find it hard to keep going in ninety degree heat.

So, this brings me to the perfect vibrator. Every once in a while when Jonathan was going down on me, he would say something and the vibrations would travel through me. I told him at some point, we would have to try it in all seriousness and try it we did.

Last night, Jonathan surprised me. He lightly pulled my clit between his lips and started to hum. When the pitch changed, the vibrations changed. When he sped up or slowed down, it changed. It was in a word incredible.

No worrying about batteries. No fooling with inadequate equipment. No pulling the chord out of the damn egg (the fate of my first and only satisfying bullet). Just a nice and natural solution.

So guys, if you haven’t tried this on your lady, try it to night. You both might just be surprised at the reactions you get. However, I would stay to simple tone humming rather than songs, especially Manamanah.

Our beloved air conditioner took a nose dive on us Wednesday. It blows air but it doesn’t cool. It probably needs a recharge or just a good servicing, but with less than two weeks to go in our rental unit, it almost seems to be a waste of time to get it fixed, especially since our landlord probably won’t get anyone out until well after we’re gone.

So now we’re suffering. It’s New Orleans in May. The air is humid, the temperature is high and we have all of our fans going full tilt. This is not the way we wanted to spend our last days in this house but it seems to be the way it’s going down.

Of course, the only real sacrifice is the one we’re taking on our sex life. Sex, in this kind of heat, is almost completely out of the question. If you spend more than a few minutes humping away in New Orleans heat, you’re reaching for a glass of water while searching for a way to unstick yourself from your partner. Doesn’t make for the most fulfilling or romantic encounters.

So we’ve had to limit our sexual activity a bit. One of the obvious moves is to focus more on oral. That involves a lot less contact and keeps us from overheating. Position-wise, cowgirl and from behind have both received an unexpected bump from the demise of our AC.

Even with those compromises though, it’s hard to feel sexy or sexual when you’re wallowing in this kind of heat. When your skin feels sticky, your hair is a mess and you’re struggling to breathe in the New Orleans humidity, you feel about as sexy as a pet rock.

Fortunately though, it’s less than two weeks until we can have all of the sex we want in our new, larger and better air conditioned house. I already can’t wait.

I first started having problems with my weight in middle school. I had abnormal periods and was put on birth control. I think that that was the start of the screwing up of my metabolism. After starting the pill I gained a little weight. I was a size 16 and was picked on by all the kids in school not only for my size, but also my anti-social nature.

Then there was a boy, isn’t that the way a lot of these stories start? I overheard him telling his friend that he wouldn’t date me because “She’s two sizes too big.” So, for the most wrong reason I can think of, I decided to try to lose weight. I was big into science and knew that bears when they hibernate live off of their body fat. Even though I wasn’t going to be sleeping through the winter, I decided that I could live off my fat and did not need to eat.

To fool mom, I did eat one piece of toast in the morning and nothing the rest of the day. I would tell her I had a big lunch at school and that I wasn’t hungry at dinner. She wasn’t fooled for long.

She started bringing home fudge and other goodies to try to entice me to eat. By this point, I had lost 30 pounds in a matter of weeks. Finally, she sat me down and told me that if I didn’t start eating she was going to put me in a hospital where they would feed me through a tube. The sad thing is that I took the threat to heart, but not for the reason she or you might think. I didn’t want someone feeding me thousands of calories and fat through a tube without me knowing what was being put in me.

So, I started eating again. However, I limited my fat gram intake to 14 grams of fat a day and made sure nothing I ate had loads of calories. I stayed on this diet and a size 12 for four years. Yes, even after starving myself for almost two months I never broke the single digit barrier. I was still teased for being big and the boy didn’t even notice.

So, that was the second step to messing up my metabolism. Previous to this stunt, I had been a size 14 and 175 pounds. My body had done a pretty good job keeping me at this weight. After I started eating again, I gained a lot of weight.

Other things to note about the downsides of not eating:

• My hair was falling out and had lost it’s luster
• I was weak and struggled even more in gym class
• I couldn’t stay awake / I was tired all the time
• My body lost muscle, not fat.

That was my lowest point in the battle with my weight. Since then, I have often tried various diet and exercise programs with moderate success. For example, I’ve lost 30 pounds since August 2006 just trying to make better choices of how much and what I eat. I also only drink diet drinks and water now.

When I graduated college, I was down to a size 16 again and under 200 pounds. However, when I moved in with Jonathan, I started birth control for the second time in my life. I quickly gained 25 pounds. Other than right after Katrina when I gained sixty pounds (thirty of which I’ve lost), I’ve pretty much stayed at 225. I would like to be 200 again, or 199. However, without giving up some things that I enjoy, I don’t see that happening any time soon.

Also, I get compliments all the time on my body from men and women. Most of my weight is in my ass and people always want to slap it or take pictures of it. Yes, they do stop me on the street to do so. Granted it’s Bourbon St. and pretty much anything goes there.

At this point, I honestly don’t think I would get as many compliments if I were to lose a lot of weight. I’m fine, just the way I am and I think more of society is beginning to realize it.

Between the new house, job issues and everything else that has been going on, we haven’t had much time left to go out, meet people and, hopefully, get introduced to our next girlfriend. Both the time and energy have been lacking to have our usual adventures.

Sure, we’ve been having a lot of fun just the two of us, but we still wish we could get out there more. Our lives, however, are kind of on hold until the new house is bought and moved in to. Until then, we’re floating around in limbo.

To counter that, we’ve been debating another idea, posting an ad on Craigslist and seeing if we can somehow fit dating back into our schedule.

Dating Sites and Personal Ads

The truth is that we’ve had a lot of bad luck with dating sites. The problem is that most dating sites that accept couples are simply swinger sites. Though there’s nothing wrong with that, but it’s not what we want. Besides, the sites we’ve been on have been crawling with fake profiles, misleading information and a lot of people who can’t take a hint (what part of “couple for woman” is unclear?)

We also took out a personal ad once in a local newspaper, with disastrous consequences. Turns out in Columbia, SC the number of couples that do what we do is very finite and, despite the lack of identifying information, it was clear to our friends who took out the ad.

Being the butt of jokes and snickers in the coffee shop is no fun. However, it certainly wasn’t the worst fate we’ve endured. It takes a lot more than a few jokes to slow us down. Still, the fact remains that we are 0-2 when it comes to personal ads. A reason we’re a bit hesitant to move forward with this.

Why Craigslist?

So all of this begs the question, why Craiglist? Here are my reasons:

1. Free: For us and those who respond.
2. Private: Disposable email addresses only.
3. Disposable ads: Post an ad, get no replies, no big deal. Just walk away.
4. Say what WE want: Be ourselves rather than having to pretend to be swingers.
5. Less spam: Free Yahoo! mail + Craiglist means not cleaning out the inbox daily for a month.

Does this make it a good idea, no, but it’s a better idea than the sites we’ve been on. Spending so much per month on a membership or making interested parties pay $2 to respond doesn’t make any sense. Craigslist, more than anywhere else, is a zero censorship environment that is free in every regard. It’s quite liberating.

The Fraud Problem

The main thing we’re worried about it is the same thing that everyone else is, fakes. Looking through the site, most of the fakes are pitifully obvious, wanting you to IM or containing obviously fake pics, but some responders might not be so obvious.

However, if we do this, we’re going to guard against fraud by insisting on meeting in a public place such as a coffee shop and not giving up pics (at least nothing we wouldn’t send to a stranger). These are sensible precautions and if they deter anyone from meeting us, that’d be too bad.

Still, we’re not convinced about doing it and we wouldn’t consider it a long term strategy if we did. It’d be something to use for the next few weeks, until things settle down. Once we get arranged and our finances/personal lives calm down, we’ll probably be back out there, beating the streets, doing what we’ve always done.

Of course, the real temptation is to just do it and for the sake of seeing what happens. We might meet someone interesting, we might not. We might meet the love of our life, we might meet some very strange people. No matter what though, it wouldn’t be dull.

We’re going to give it some thought, but we’re interested in other’s opinions on it. So what do you think? Is it worth a shot?

What if, we made him nervous and he decided to turn because of us. I posed the simple question to Jonathan “Do you ever wonder if cops get nervous when we follow them like we do when they follow us?” He thought for a moment and then his eyes lit up. “I want to try it” is all he said.

So, the rest of the ride home was devising how we would do it. First, we would need to get a very recognizable car, think traffic cone orange. Then we would need to spot a cop and just start following him around for a little while. Finally, we could record our little experiment and document the cops reactions.

There was some silliness about if they tried to pull us, following them and telling them that we were following them first. Think, Bugs Bunny and Elmer Fudd running in circles around a tree. We had a good laugh and continued home.

At Burger King for lunch, we talked about the very pretty and curvy girl who came in. Things were kept light throughout most of the day.

Then towards evening, things took a more serious tone. We started talking about infidelity in relation to that might be the only reason we would have a messy split if it ever came to that. However, we started discussing what we would and would not be comfortable with in different situations.

Jonathan gave me the green light to sleep with whomever I want years ago. I’ve never taken him up on that. I don’t think he would have said it if he thought that I would have jumped at the chance to sleep with another guy/girl without him. I could be wrong, but that’s the conclusion I reached.

So, since his point on the issue was well known, we discussed how and when it would be okay for him to be with someone else without me. I came to the conclusion that I could understand if we were going to be apart for a while on business and what not allowing each of us to do our own thing.

However, I also realized that I wouldn’t want that thing to be with any pre-meditation. Meaning, I wouldn’t want him to meet someone who he had gotten to know on the internet/phone or wherever without me. I would be much more willing to accept a possible infidelity if it were a “spur of the moment just sex” sort of thing instead of a “I’m sleeping with someone that I have feelings for and you’re not here” sort of thing.

He doesn’t understand this viewpoint, but I’m sure someone out there will be able to see my side of it. This discussion led to one about polyamory and what it means for us and other couples.

Jonathan pointed out that many polyamorous couples enjoy relationships outside of their own. While this is great for them, it’s not what I want for myself. I don’t expect our girlfriends to develop feelings for us at the same rate, nor do I doubt that there has and will be favoritism on their part towards one of us.

However the thought of either of us falling in love with someone else and having that relationship on the side scares and intrigues me. I would be afraid that that sort of relationship would deter from my current one with Jonathan. I would be afraid that he would choose the other woman over me especially if she decides to be monogamous with him.

In those types of relationships, I wonder if the extra partners are monogamous to the couple or if they have other partners outside of the relationship with the person in the couple.

We both know that these kinds of discussions are loosing battles. When it comes down to it there is no way to predict how we will react in different situations. There is also no way to tell what the future holds for our relationship.

I’m just glad that we have open communication where we can talk about anything and everything in a calm and rational manner most of the time. That ability to have conversations about absolutely anything is probably the things I cherish most about our relationship. Whether it’s making cops feel awkward, or the future of our relationship, I know that we’ll always be there for each other to discuss whatever arises. In the end, that’s what makes us such a great couple.

It travels through some of the loneliest parts of the state and, especially at night. It’s primarily used by truckers, who need to get their goods from the port in New Orleans up to Dallas or other points north. This means that, on weekends, it can be especially dull.

The most barren stretch is between Opelousas and Alexandria, a seventy-mile stretch with no towns, just woods, farms and marsh.

It was there that Crystal and I found ourselves late Friday night. We were heading north toward her parents’ house and we were bored. Crystal was driving, as she usually does the second leg of the trip, and we were both tired, the conversation had slowed and the music was uninspiring.

I looked over to her after checking my mail on my cell phone, “What do you want to do to pass the time?” I asked.

“I don’t know,” she said, “But you could always masturbate.”

Shocked and Intrigued

“Are you serious?” I asked.

“Of course I am, why not?” she replied.

It was a bit of role reversal for us. I’m usually the one pushing her to be more wild but here she was pushing me to whip out my cock and beat off in a car traveling down the interstate.

I took a deep breath and thought about it. Why not indeed. It was the dead of night. There were no cars around. The windows in our car are very tinted and I wasn’t going to be able to do anything when we got to her parents for the weekend. It was, in a way, my last chance for a while.

“What are you going to do?” I said curiously, trying not to grin.

“Nothing, I have to watch the road,” she said with a smirk across her face.

We debated it back and forth for a bit, but as we talked about it I noticed that my cock grew rock hard, poking through my pants. Crystal slid a hand off of the while and brushed up against me, “He’s a big boy today isn’t he?”

That he was. Not all erections are created equal, some do not get the full length while others seem ready to explode on contact. This was definitely the latter. “Do it,” she said in a more demanding tone.

I glanced at the road ahead of us, I didn’t see a single tail light all the way to the horizon. I unzipped my pants and pulled out my rock hard cock and began to tease the head.

Seeking Stimuli

As I touched the head of my cock I noticed it was very sensitive, desperate for a release. I closed my eyes and started to stroke it lightly. In our relationship, we often talk about our “flipbook” our collection of erotic images or memories we use during masturbation or sex to keep us going when we need a boost.

I envisioned her pulling over and wrapping her mouth around the head of my cock and sucking lightly. I grew even harder and stroked faster, falling into a rhythm.

I opened my eyes for a second and caught her glancing down at me. I felt oddly awkward for a second. We affectionately call masturbation “alone time” because it’s something we do alone. Usually, if we’re in each other’s presence, we’re doing things to each other, not ourselves.

“You don’t know how wet this is making me,” she said in a teasing voice, “only being able to watch you out of the corner of my eyes, it’s really turning me on.”

My hand, almost out of reflex, found its way to my shaft again and I began stroking.

“You have no idea how bad I want to take you right now, to push your cock into my tight wet cunt,” she continued, “I want you to pound me, to cum deep inside of me. Fill me up Jonathan.”

I began stroking faster and faster, almost unable to control myself.

Achieving Release

Crystal continued to tease me, talking dirty to me and I stroked myself harder and harder. My cock, neatly contrasted by my black pants and the dark interior of the car stood out in the night air. Even without the lights on and only the moonlight to guide us, everything was perfectly visible.

I began to breathe deeply, the tension building up inside of me. Crystal, sensing this pulled down her shirt and exposed her breasts, letting me see her hard nipples poking out over the top. I reached over a brushed them lightly, watching her moan at my touch, and felt my cock grow against as I caressed her skin.

“Cum for me Jonathan,” Crystal begged me, “Let me see you blow your load.”

I felt myself building up, the ecstasy increasing with every stroke. I was on the verge of filling her wish. My body began to stiffen up, my feet pressed against the floorboard and I leaned back in the seat, arching up.

I started moaning uncontrollably. Crystal slid her hand off of the wheel and rubbed my crotch through my pants as I continued to stroke. “Oh God,” I began to mutter, my body already shivering at her touch, “I’m going to cum for you.”

“Do it,” she said, “explode for me.”

I let out a loud cry, what Crystal often describes as my “leo roar” and exploded with all of my might, shaking and writhing in the seat.

After a few moments it was over and I was left panting in the chair trying in vain to catch my breath. I had only had a second to ready a towel to catch at least some of my load and worked to finish cleaning up as I tried to regain my equilibrium.

Crystal started giggling softly to herself, “That was very naughty,” she said trying not to let me hear. When I finally calmed down I started laughing out of disbelief.

“It was VERY naughty,” I replied, still chuckling and coming down from the high.

I’ve done many crazy things. I’ve sucked nipples on Bourbon Street, had threesomes in swimming pools and appeared in more than a few risque photographs, but I’ve never had an orgasm at seventy miles an hour.

It was quite an experience to say the lest…

When we left the house, we headed to one of our favorite local restaurants, Cafe Rendezvous. It’s a great place to go and relax, not to mention we have become fairly good friends with the daytime manager, J.

Tonight, J came and sat at our table and asked her to come up with some drinks to put on the sign out front. We came up with quite a few and laughed and acted shocked at some of the names. She joked about asking a male bartender for a “screaming orgasm” and a few other names.

She then told us about an incident with the sign. Now, you have to understand that J is Spanish and though she speaks English very well, she doesn’t always spell it very well nor does she understand every word of American slang. The cafe is on a very busy intersection and she has mentioned many times people stopping in to let them know of a misspelling.

However, this wasn’t her usual tale of misspellings. Here’s what happened: J had asked one of the girls to go and change the sign because she couldn’t be pulled away from work at that moment. Four hours later, J had to go to her car for something. On the way back, a couple leaving the restaurant were giggling.

The man said “Honey, if I knew they were serving that, I might have ordered it for you.” Then they both started laughing.

Curious, J went over to check the sign. Instead of reading “steak and cocktails” it read “steak and cock.” Unfortunately, the tale doesn’t end there.

J never hearing the term cock before (I couldn’t believe it either) went inside and started asking customers what the strange word meant.

Finally, one of the waitresses told J that she just couldn’t go around asking people about that word.

J responded “Why not it’s on the sign.”

After it was explained to her J couldn’t believe that the other girl would put that on the sign.

The waitresses excuse? “I couldn’t make cocktail fit.”

So, after a long hard day, hanging out with a cute Spanish woman (who always hugs and makes physical contact with me) and hearing a funny story at the end of the day made the evening a little brighter. It was the perfect choice for dinner tonight.

We were all exhausted. Orgasms had been traded back and forth for hours on end and, though it was only mid-afternoon, we felt like we needed a good night’s rest. After we cleaned up we all jumped back into the bed, still nude, and began to cuddle, softly and affectionately.

It was, and still is, one of my favorite memories.

At first we just looked at each other, exchanged soft kisses and caresses, we held each other and looked longingly into each other’s eyes. Between the three of us, Crystal, G and myself, there was so much love and affection in the room.

When we finally settled down, we started spooning close. I found myself in the middle, with G in front of me and Crystal behind me, we all held each other. The feeling of being sandwiched between the two of them is almost indescribable. Their soft skin, their heartbeats, their breaths, it was like being surrounded by warm satin.

Without a word the three of us drifted off into a very peaceful sleep. All of us were smiling and we just knew that good dreams were on the way.

However, an hour later I woke up suddenly. I was feeling sick. I stirred from the bed trying not to disturb either of them and I quickly realized the problem, I had become overheated. The combination of the body heat, the hot summer air and the blanket had just overwhelmed me. I slid out of the bed and paced a few moments under the air conditioning trying to cool off.

Crystal, half stirred by my exit, immediately took my place behind G. I finished getting my act together and slid back underneath the covers, this time behind Crystal.

I’d learned my lesson and from then on have been mindful of how much heat three people can produce in a bed together. From that stemmed the cardinal rule of threesome cuddling: Get a fan.

Simply put, turning up the A/C is not only a waste of electricity, but also too much for those on the end. A thinner blanket is a good idea, but it’s important to keep dissipating the heat, especially if you just had sex. A fan works nicely for that.

If that fails, don’t take the middle or at the very least don’t snuggle too close together. Give yourself at least a little room to breathe.

The exception is, of course, if it’s a very cold day out, the closer the better and the more the merrier!

Sadly though, here in New Orleans, we don’t get too many of those days.

I’ve gotten many compliments on my posterior before. It wasn’t anything new. However, it did take me by surprise that a girl would so brazenly yell out her appreciation. Unfortunately, she was driving too fast. By the time the her cat call reached my ears and registered in my brain, she was gone.

I walked back to the edge of the street and looked after the car, but to no avail.

I have to wonder what would have happened if she had slowed down to see if I would stop and turn around. I have to wonder had she somehow known that Jonathan and I date girls, if she would have gotten out of the car to compliment me. I have to wonder, who she was and if she thought about my ass while masturbating that night.

I wish that she would have stopped. I wish that women would have the courage to come up to me and be so direct. And, I wish that I could be just as direct back.

I think that, as women, we’re taught to be sensitive to other women’s feelings. We’re taught to not talk like guys to other women. We’re taught to play games and not to be straight forward about how we feel or what we want. Even though this woman in the car was blunt, she was still playing a game because if she had truly not cared about what I would think, she would have stopped the car. She would have gotten out and she would have told me to my face/ass what she thought of me.

I wish she had. We might have made a new friend from the experience, and she? Well, she would have had a great time I’m sure.