I decided it might be fun to start a sex blog that, for a change, isn't written by a 20-something attractive London-dwelling single girl who has sexscapades.
Instead, I'm a 30-something married man.
So, sex. Yes! Sex is good fun, but my enthusiasm for it increases rapidly the longer it's been since I last had it. This led to a burning, intense, hunger to get my cock into a girl for the first eighteen years of my life, which then underwent a few slight reductions here and there for a few years, before finally abating to bearable levels when I found my first steady sex-allowing girlfriend. I've only actually had three of these, despite having made my way through twelve different women; most of the early ones never got as far as sex (despite one of them lasting a whole seven months), and most of my relationships only really lasted a few weeks so only produced a few actual sex sessions at most.
Of course, that all depends on what you count as sex. I've fingered all but one of those twelve, got my cock into the vaginas of nine of them, the mouths of five, and the arse of one, and orgasmed inside a mere four (all four vaginas, two mouths, and one arse). Where do you draw the line, exactly? I've never had group sex, but it's come close a few times, and I hope to one day. I've never had sex with another man, and don't have any desire to, but neither does the thought particularly repulse me (so I might do it as a favour to somebody!).
But enough statistics. You came here for the lurid details, right?