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Sometimes I simply want to enjoy life and I think it’s not that hard if you start counting all those little blessings.

And I realized there are ways to make K come to church with me, next Saturday I gotta do a little shopping!

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Note:1. My blog is one year old now so to celebrate this big and wonderful occasion I thought I could write something different and 18+
2. This post is edited by K and therefore it looks like so much his own posts!

I’m not sure it’s me feeling the summer is trying to leave us to welcome winter or it is just taking a little break, whatever it is the temperature dropped a bit to 50 or sometimes even lower to make K walks around the house fully clothed.
It was a nice sunny morning as early as 6 am with the sun shining brightly and fresh air pouring through the open window, birds singing cheerfully making it one wonderful morning to start a good day. I stretched a bit looking for my human blanket but there was no sign of him, I listened carefully and no sound of water so obviously he wasn’t in the bathroom, so I grabbed my t-shirt to wear it on my way downstairs b/c unlike K I still think it’s too hot to sleep with my clothes on.
I passed A’s room and she was sleeping soundly making me smile and it turned to a bigger smile when I saw K bending down in the kitchen to look for his morning snacks, his t-shirt clenching to his sweaty body and his shorts hanging really low I could see his crack glistening with sweat and making it more inviting. So he went running on his own and now this gorgeous guy was peeping inside my kitchen looking for more chocolates. He is my beautiful chocolate monster that no matter how hard I try he won’t look fat.
I tiptoed to the kitchen so I could approach him from behind without giving him enough time to get to some new positions. In a few seconds I was standing right behind him, putting my hands on his hips and lowering my head to whisper morning greetings to his ear but by my first touch he jumped like a spring.
“Ouch” K said as he hit his head against the sink and stood up to rub his head making his curly hair messier than what it was then.
I put my arms round his torso and pulled him so close his ass touched my morning wood, I circled my fingers round his nipples and made him squirm.
“Please” he said grinding his ass to my groin.
“Please what?” I put one hand in his shorts, no underwear as usual, while my other hand squeezed and pinched his nipple.
Another moan skipped his lips as he put his head on my shoulder, balancing himself by grabbing the sink. I spread his pre-cum on his head and then brought my finger to his lips, he licked the tip of my finger then started sucking it hard as if it was the cock he needed in his mouth. I pulled my finger out of his hungry mouth and dug deeper in his shorts, stroking him as slowly as possible.
A big “Ohhhh” came out of his mouth before he realized it was too early in the morning and he didn’t want to wake anyone up. He bent slightly pressing his ass to my groin hard before adding his up and down motion, I still had my hands in his shorts and was playing with his cock.
He moaned and groaned quietly as he was trying his best to find hi release but with my slow strokes he was going nowhere.
“I beg you” he sounded breathless and desperate, and I was pretty satisfied making my beautiful husband beg for his release.
“Not yet” I grinned evilly but he couldn’t see.
“I’ll do whatever you say, Please, give it to me.” He was writhing in need.
“Whatever I say?” I thought loudly.
“Yes, please, I need to get ready for work.” He was begging in oblivion.
” No underwear to work.”
“Ok, I wasnt going to wear any anyway.” he said matter of factly.
“And you’re wearing your suit for lunch.” I licked my lips pleased with my own words.
“Shit, I hate suits and I hate you.” he freed himself from my grip and stood face to face.
I love him more when he looks so miserable and desperate I couldn’t help myself but kiss him hard on his luscious lips and dammed his a good kisser, responding in a way that can straighten all the hair on your body and well stiffen that special muscle.
We spent a while fighting with our tongues till we had to break before dying of breathlessness.
K turned his head to look at the clock, hitting me on the face with his braid.
“Holy shit, it’s almost 7 and I haven’t showered yet, let alone having my breakfast, I so much hate you cos we have no time to get rid of this.” He lowered his waist band, holding his hard cock in his hand and frowning at me making him look so fucking cute I had to kiss him one more time.
“Quick, to the bathroom, I make you breakfast and then suck you dry as you shave.” I hit his lovely ass and pushed him out of the kitchen.
“I still hate you cos I don’t want to cut my face.” He ran upstairs undressing as he jumped and hopped to get to the next floor.”Come quick, I dont have all morning, hun.” I heard him shut the door as he got into the bathroom.

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annual Customer Appreciation Barbecue at Northern Air Cargo

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Honestly I was very shocked how easy he found his brother a friend, I’m not saying his brother isn’t sexy enough to attract other guys, he’s too young and sometimes unsure of what he really wants.
The boy was what I call cute with dirty blond hair and brown eyes and very romantic if not too effeminate.
Personally I don’t like the guys who look stereotypically gay with all that feminine look and horrible clothings added with stupid make-up and very gay behavior. I know I’m not like this even K is not much like this, he’s more fragile and skinny than effeminate, I have to admit there are times he enjoys wearing shirts in girlie colors yet they are always simple and plain, not really too gay, even his make-up is more Gothic than anything else and when he switches to his very responsible dad, he’s one hell of a macho guy.
Back to the boy, let me give him a name…. poet boy looks fine b/c he enjoys reading and writing poems, he enjoys painting in oils too and he’s pretty good at it so no wonder he studies fine arts.
Basically poet boy is very nice and sincere but he’s not that good when reading the signs that is sarcasm doesn’t exist in his world and whatever people say are gospel truth and come from the bottom of their heart. I can say he’s lucky Z is not sarcastic, his other brothers are full of sarcasm, K being the worse and it really took me a while to understand what he’s saying and surely there are times he doesn’t know what he really means :-p
I haven’t known Z for a long time but what I realized about him is the astronomical differences between the two brothers, in simple gay words K is a bottom and Z is an aggressive top and very proud of himself so he acts the way he likes without thinking about the consequences of his behavior and this really pisses K off.
So what I know about Z is that all he wants right now is a fuck buddy at most, someone to explore and experience new horizons and that would be all b/c he doesn’t like any obligation and responsibility that come with relationships, on the other hand poet boy is a little more experienced and what he wants is a long-term relationship and a boyfriend committed to him.
Sometimes I feel sorry for the boy b/c he doesn’t want to see the truth to the relationship he has with Z. I can see the emotions and desires in his eyes whenever he sees me and K together, probably thinking brothers are pretty the same, they are not.
The thing I really hate is how hard K tries to show the boys the reality of life and protect them against hurting one another, what he is really doing is hurting himself (this hurts me a lot!).
Thinking about how shocked poet boy looked the time Z brushed his lips against his or how embarrassed he looked when I caught them having sex or how happy he looked when he introduced Z to his family, I feel so many mixed feelings with one obvious thought, I want this friendship works for them but more than that I want the boys out of my house and out of my life, me and K really need some privacy!

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I have decided to post a picture once a week.

I’m trying to show it’s fun living in Alaska

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Some words are simple yet pages can be written to describe the facts and emotions hidden behind those simple words, one of them is “daddy”.
What I can remember from my childhood is that I called my father “father” and unfortunately there isn’t much feeling linked to that word. I know I have forgiven him for what he did yet I don’t want him anywhere in my life.
Biologically I have a daughter that I met twice only talked once in her 16 years of life, there is nothing between us than the DNA. Then my ex-wife had a boy who I loved like my own son and he called me dad, we didn’t do much together, each minding our own business.
When I met K I realized a new thing, there was this little girl with obvious wings who worshiped her daddy, then and there I saw what was missing in my life. K is a good dad, it’s hard to be a good dad and harder when you know about his creepy depressive moods and A’s twisted mom.
A is a fine girl, not even 3 years old and sometimes she’s more mature than anyone else I know yet she is a kid with all the troubles they give not written in any manual and that makes her special. There is this strange bond between her and her dad, so strong and so invisible, sometimes you cant see it but it’s there and you cant do anything to break it. When K told me about his own father, I really felt jealous b/c he had something I never had and I think not many people have such things, those strong bonds with their parents that even death cant break it. There is something very wonderful about it when you see a parent trying so hard to wrap his/her emotions in a package and share it with their loved kids. K has that love and he does a great job showing it; I can fall in love with him again and again every time I see how A pisses him off and he thinks of a way to make her do things without hurting her, he is not perfect and he makes lots of mistakes yet he never gives up.
When me and K married we decided to combine our last names, it was sweet and meant a lot, sometimes people think we are brothers or cousins so we have to explain and that makes it more fun.
When K was awarded A’s full custody, I could say he was the happiest man on earth, when he told me he wanted to change A’s last name too, I was the happiest man. A name won’t mean much when you dont try to earn it yet what he did meant a lot to me, he was sharing all he had, even the most precious thing in his entire life so I had no other choice than loving A like my own child and thanks God she liked me enough.
A called me by my name like her dad, that’s what kids do, imitating their parents, to some extent this pissed K off but when I ensured him I was fine with whatever she called me as long as we get on well, he surrendered.

Then one day it happened, I was making coffee when the little sleepy angel came to the kitchen, she looked like a mess just like her dad as if someone keeps messing their hair all night and makes them look very cute the next day.
All she said was a simple order that you can expect from K’s baby (father and daughter are so much like one another sometimes you can easily imagine how K looked like as a kid), “daddy A want ice-cream”.
I looked around and there was no sign of K so I told her she could find her dad in the bedroom and see if he could give her ice-cream. she turned around and climbed a few steps before changing her mind. “daddy , ice-cream.” she had a grip on my pants. I gave her some chocolates and she disappeared to share it with K. I thought she was too sleepy and wanted the ice-cream really bad that she didn’t care much who gave it to her.
Since then every once in a while A calls me daddy and K convinced me it had nothing to do with him. Apparently she likes the idea of having two dads and it wont confuse her calling both of us “daddy”. The funny thing is she has realized one weak point, she calls K “K” and that drives K mad and he gives her whatever she wants so she will call her daddy again.
Now I understand why K turns his head whenever a little girl calls her daddy and I’m more than thankful to K for letting me enjoy something he enjoys most.
“daddy” is a simple word many kids can pronounce at an early age yet it is so complicated you can write books about it.

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Better late than never so I thought I could post a picture (for the first time!)