My shirt is on inside-out.

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I had a brutal day today with my ex. We are on the fringes; all my hard work for us not to end up like our parents nearly destroyed.

But that wasn’t the point tonight. Tonight it was about how amazing and supportive a man could be to a woman dealing with another man, an important issue that had nothing to do with him personally.

The Neighbor listened and gave interesting, intelligent feedback. He impressed me. And when I said, “We’re fucking tonight,” he said ok, but I’d have to warm him up due to him being striken with seasonal allergies.

Ok, buddy. Challenge accepted.

I tucked him in and wrapped him up, then peeled him like my own private Idaho candy bar.

At first, he nipped and suckled my breasts through vintage cotton and I moaned and rode a rigid hardness burgeoning beneath the down comforter separating us.

Then I pulled back the covers revealing his raw, pale, nakedness.

“Ow, your stubble hurts,” he complained as I lowered my dry pussy lips to his shaft, thighs quivering.

“Oh! I’m sorry,” I said and lifted my hips. “How’s this?” I redirected the head to my dry-ish, happy hole. “I can actually feel you!” I exclaimed.

He grimaced for a split second then flipped me over and started the slow, exquisite process of entering my wanton body.

He punched and pounded my insides.
Clutched and kissed, gripped and grabbed. I held on for dear life and fucked back as hard a I could. The footboard lent purchase to my thrusts and I rammed back into him and his grunts.

I felt a pressure surge through me, electric. Time and time again. I bore down around his shaft as it struck my g-spot and I squirted like a motherfucker.

I began to sob as he split my legs and threw his head back and railed into me.

He didn’t cum; I came for both of us a thousand million times; wet and loose and weeping, was I.

He kissed me and held me and called me back to his nook.

I flopped there like a wet Sunday newspaper, heavy and unresponsive. “You ok?” He asked, stroking my arm.

I said yes, but I wanted another orgasm. He insisted I try and I obliged.

It wasn’t until he took his thick hand to his meat that I spilled over and tumbled through myself.

Something about the blurry arch of his speedy hand and the sound of fap fap fap fap fap fap that does it for me, I guess.

And then: he’s there. For real. Fuck my ex and my grief and my past. My future is my now. He loves me, I love him. He’s great with Peyton, my friends and family. He’s a crazy genius. He’s here.

And I’m happy despite the stress of an old life shackled to me forever. It just is. Just like we are.

He helped me redress in the candlelight, my shirt on inside-out, a new composition, kissed me deeply and slipped away into the shadows.

I love him.

28 thoughts on “My shirt is on inside-out.

  1. Really sorry the ex is messing you around. Sometimes people with new love do that, even making them blind to how much they damage their own children. I hope he realises enough to prevent that.
    I’m glad that TN is supporting you and that this continues to blossom. A winter-flowering for Hyacinth?

    • It’s beyond that now. He’s marrying a woman that wanted nothing to do with me for 18 mos and he thought that was A-ok. She’s over her insecurities about me now, but I’m not over my rage. It sucks and I have a lot of work to do.

  2. I’m sorry about the trouble your ex is putting you through, but sooo happy to read that your love impressed you with his support. You’re lucky you have one another.
    and as Marian says…
    xo

  3. “He helped me redress in the candlelight, my shirt on inside-out, a new composition, kissed me deeply and slipped away into the shadows.

    I love him.”

    I like this. I get it.

  4. Hang in there, holmes. Remind the ex’s new concubine that insecurity is the world’s worst cologne. Wait, or was that desperation . . . I can’t remember. Either way, I’m quite sure she sucks. And you: you’re the TOPS!!

    • Big Tex! So nice to see you back around these parts. It’s been eons, no? <3

      To address your point, I agree, but he doesn't. He just "wants to move on" with his life and it happens to be with her. Oh well, right? I have no say, sadly, so my life goes on, too. Thank god :)

      Don't be such a stranger, ok? xx Hy

  5. And I’m happy despite the stress of an old life shackled to me forever. It just is. Just like we are.
    I love these lines, and I can relate. My ex and I are forever tied, and it was hard to move on, hard to let go of old ideas, and embrace my new life.

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