I cum two different ways.

The tale of two orgasms: G-spot and clitoral.

Two nights ago The Neighbor came over after Peyton was in bed.  I was laying on the couch in front of a fire, he was dressed in a t-shirt and silky basketball shorts.  He stood between me and the TV and waited, smiling.  I looked more closely and could see the outline of a large, heavy cock straining against the fabric.

I reached out and stroked him and looked up smiling.

Minutes later he had pushed me down on the bed, licked his palm and rubbed the head of his cock and pushed inside of me.  He was huge and hot and brutal.  His lips nibbled my neck, his arms wrapped around me and we spun around the bed like wrestlers as we sought deeper, harder, more more more.

His hips curled into me and I wrapped my legs around him to pull him in closer. I ran my hands over his back and gripped his muscled shoulders which strained to pin us both in position.  I inched over the edge of the bed as he kept railing into me.

My pussy squelched a little and I lifted my head, curling my spine and a bloom spread hot and round through me, like a tendril, a rush.  It hit me again as he growled and kept curling into me as I ground down against him. 

Lights sparkled behind my lids and the white-hot wave rolled out of me through my fingertips, the top of my head.

I cried out and he shh’ed me.  “Hy,” he said urgently, “Peyton might hear you!” It was true.  I had been yelling like a banshee as the g-spot orgasms washed over me. 

He put a pillow over my face and we laughed as he kept fucking me and I screamed into it as another one hit me.

When we were done we cuddled and I caught my breath.  I felt stupid, heavy, happy, like I would guiltlessly give away national secrets.

::

Last night we cuddled on the couch and watched American Psycho (“I have to return some videotapes.”).  I was tired, but happy, and faded out at the end of the movie (as I typically do – so sexy).  When the movie finished we went to my room to cuddle.

I laid in his arms and we talked about a transwoman friend of mine who’s having troubles with her soon-to-be exwife.  I staunchly defended my friend who finds her ex to be rather stubborn about a certain issue and TN couldn’t understand why I, “someone who is so empathetic,” couldn’t understand the ex’s point of view.  It wasn’t an argument we needed to be having and he decided to deflect.

He turned to me, stroking my arm, and said, “You are so beautiful,” and kissed me.

I was taken aback a little.  As much as he says he finds me beautiful, it still isn’t that common.

I kissed him back and said thank you.  “No, really, you are.”  I beamed a smile at him in the dark, the one little votive candle really only casting darker shadows, not light.

“I can feel your smile right now,” he chuckled.  “It’s like radiating out at me.”  I giggled and nodded my head, our chat completely forgotten.  “Wow, was that all it takes to end an argument?” he laughed.

I told him hearing how beautiful he thinks I am will never get old.  He wondered if the power of the words would fade with time.  I scoffed just a little and said, “You might be surprised how little I’ve heard those words in my life. My mother doesn’t count.”

While we’d been talking I’d been gripping his cock.  It’d gone from chubby to quite hard once we’d kissed and he’d told me I was beautiful.  “How long has it been since you’ve masturbated?” he asked.

I couldn’t remember.

“Ok, then.  It’s time.”

I pulled out my Hitachi and we settled into position: me on my back, legs splayed, the head of the Hitachi on my underpants, him on his side, head cradled in his hand, his free hand roaming over me.

I flicked it on and the buzz took me away with the jolt of a speeding roller coaster.

TN watched intently as I tensed and shook a little, my roller coaster car twisting and turning this way and that. And then it had reached the top
of the steepest climb and I was falling, crashing. The roar of my own blood in my ears deafening, the fall so swift my breath left me.

I continued to plummet into the depths of release and my body arched and I moaned and whimpered as quietly as I could. Then finally the ride was over and I could climb out of my seat.

I lay there limp and panting only faintly aware of TN beside me. He put my hand — which had drifted away — back on his cock now a raging erection.

“Do it again,” he said softly. I could only nod as I began to stroke him.

As the buzz io the vibrator hit me it connected me to his cock through my hand; it was as if it were my cock in my hand.

Surprised at this new sensation I kept my hand moving. The faster I went the closer I came to cumming and then it hit me like a blast of air in a storm and I bucked and made weird noises and spasmed out through my eyelids. I went limp again.

And then he made me do it a third time. And I died. La petite mort and all that.

I laid there and contemplated my navel, my love, the true beauty of my body, this magical thing that happens to it basically whenever I want it to, and then I considered the differences: the bloom vs. the fall.

That’s the best way I can describe the two. I would never be able to choose between them, though they are very different.

Lobster vs. truffles. There’s no bad choice.

How are they different for you?

I beat his ass.

hyacinthjones_white_shift_belt

The morning after, no underwear.

“Take off your underwear,” he said smiling and with no fanfare.

I looked at him and burst into giggles.

We’d been laying on the bed talking and it’d come out of no where, well, if “no where” was laying in bed and lavishing attention on your man and there was a rule that he wasn’t allowed to wear pants in your bed.  Then, yes, it came out of no where.

I lifted my hips and removed my panties and he kneeled between my knees.  We both still had on our shirts.

He pressed into me and watched each other as he split me open and I gave way with a soft moan.  His eyes so blue, so intensely locked on mine.

His powerful hips began to move and instantly I felt a spark and arched.  I pulled him down to me and we kissed and kissed and kissed as our bodies gyrated onto one another, our breath sweet puffs of passion between our locked mouths.

His tempo increased, I lost my shit as my pussy gushed and my temperature rose.  I tossed my head from side to side and clung to him with my limbs, desperate to feel his cock deep in my throat from below.

When we were exhausted, he stopped and handed me my vibrator and played with my breasts and nipples, told me how hot I was and how beautiful as I sprang into an orgasm from the wand that ripped a scream from me.

I went limp and giggled.  He kissed me.

He left shortly after that, saying he had only stopped by for a quickie before he vacuumed.  When he returned later it was a surprise.  I wasn’t ready for him to clean, yet.  But he wanted to cuddle again and so we did and after laughing and talking for several minutes and me absentmindedly playing with his cock he said again, “Take off your underwear.”

I held still, a smile plastered on my face and a twinkle in my eye that matched his.  And so I lifted my hips and took off my panties once more.

And again he impaled me with his magical cock and we moved together, this time fully nude, and rocked against each other with all our mights.  I gripped the iron bars of my headboard and squealed each time I felt the tip of his cock nudge my heart.  I bloomed and blossomed and lost myself in little orgasms until, once again, we were exhausted and he flopped next to me, my Hitachi wand in his outstretched hand.

I took it, I died, I wept a little, but not too much, and I saw myself in bits of confetti that rained down around me.  His hand rested on my breast, his words of encouragement lingered on my ears.

He left again and we made plans for when I needed him to come over “for real” and vacuum.

When he returned he wore his little white briefs.  The thin cotton transparent enough that I could see his shadowy Caucasian skin piled behind it as he moved the vacuum cleaner about my apartment.

He picked up chairs and moved ottomans as I scurried around the house tidying up, lighting candles, making my bed.

Vacuuming is our chore-play, our gateway activity to the head space to play Dominant and submissive and I was roundly fucked and more than capable of focus.

When he was done he coiled the cord and stowed the vacuum away, came back to my room and looked at me expectantly.

“Good boy,” I purred and pet his red-bearded face.  The tables had turned.

His eyes were round and impossibly light blue, his bowed mouth slightly parted.  I caressed his shoulders, ran my fingers down his furry chest and grabbed his hardon beneath the fabric of his underpants and peeled him out of them.

“Wait here,” I said softly and grabbed a couple of things off the bedside table.  He looked at me inquisitively then with muted horror as I showed him two tiny hair clips, the kind a woman uses at her temples to stay fly-aways.  “Relax,” I said from my throat and kissed his warm lips.

He took a breath and let his arms hang at his sides as I clipped the hungry little beasts on his itsy bitsy nipples.  He cringed and winced and made a big production of it.  I scoffed at him and told him to knock it off.  “Bend over and assume the position,” I said.

There he was bathed in candlelight, in pain, back arched, bottom impossibly full and bare.  I swelled with lust, delight, and nerves.  The white shift I wore pulled taut across my breasts as I breathed in deeply the scent of his cologne and submission.

I reached for the brown leather belt that saves my weak little palm and lashed at him.  “Beg for mercy,” I hissed gently, “Beg.  But I will not stop.  You may writhe, you may cry, and you may beg, but don’t move away from me.”

“Yes ma’am,” he said huskily and he held still, waiting.

I lashed and lashed at him then and he did cry and beg.  It was gorgeous and terrifying and infuriating all at once.

When the begging came in earnest I hit him some more and told him to stop telling me what to do.  “But you said –,” he began.

“It doesn’t matter what I said,” I told him.  “You can do this, but don’t tell me to stop, beg me to stop.”

He understood.

I picked up where I left off; I wanted to leave a mark on him.  So I hit and I hit and I panted and I writhed inside of myself as I watched him squirm and shiver and shout.

I was hurting the man I love.  This is wrong, I thought.  And then I kept on lashing and petting and reassuring.

I swayed beneath my gauzy slip, drunk on passion and power and I pressed my mound against his hip and stroked his hot back.  A welt was beginning to appear.

I told him to stand up and he was skittish, but stable.  I kissed his jaw and was careful not to bump the tiny clips clinging to his nipples.  And then I said, “Hold very, very still,” and his eyes widened as he saw me carefully remove one clip and then the other.  “Get back down,” I said.

I reared up again to my full height and concentrated on the belt cutting through the night air and landing exactly where I wanted it to.  Careful, deliberate, my nipples erect, my cunt warm, wet and buzzing, my eyes glazed with other worldly focus.

Slap!  Slap!  Slap!  Slap!

He trembled and shivered, but held himself in position.  He whimpered into the down comforter and gripped it with hands locked into fists.

The smack of leather on skin began to sound like a drum beat and I turned myself inside out, concentrated on my own voice which encouraged him to take more and praised him for his powerful, meaty, indisputable beauty.  I was him in that moment feeling my own hand on him, checking in and feeling around.

And then, I was suddenly done.

I was there, he was there.  There was nowhere else I wanted to go.  And I couldn’t take one more lick lest I burst into tears.

My hand stilled and he lay and panted in big, giant breaths splayed heavily in the middle of the bed now.  I moved closer to inspect my handiwork and gasped at the blister of color I’d caused.  It was beautiful and awful.

I kissed his ear and cheek, his face buried in the mattress, and told him to stay exactly like that while I ran and fetched some ice and a cloth.  I slipped the cool chunk over his scorched skin and blotted up the trickle with care.  He insisted he didn’t need it, the careless, needless submissive man that he is, but I ignored him feeling as though I knew better.  At the very least, I needed it after brutalizing the man I love for 20 minutes.

I cooled his cheeks, his crack and his hip and dipped my hand between the cleft of his backside and stroked his balls.  He lifted his hips for me and the arch and offer nearly made me grab my belt again, but instead I wrapped my hands around his chubby cock and played with the heavy bag behind them before returning to icing his welt.

He wasn’t able to hold a conversation and he giggled.  I swelled with pride and love and contentment.

When the ice had disappeared, he pulled me into his arms and kissed my temple.  I snuggled down into the warmest nook in the world and lazily stroked his growing erection, my lids heavy, my heart full, spent as fuck.    “Hey,” he said with a grin, “take off your underwear.”

He’s my TN.

My body opened for him, my heart pumped for him, my legs spread for him.

It had been days since we were able to connect; weekly demands, family in town, and work schedules conspired against us.  I felt an angsty itch I couldn’t swat away, but we had promised each other that last night would be the end of the itching.

“I need you deep inside of me,” I texted.  “It will make my world right.”

“I sure hope so,” The Neighbor responded.

“I’m sure it will,” I said.

He popped over later in the evening and lit a fire for Peyton and me.  They chatted for a minute and then he and I talked on the balcony while Pey watched How the Grinch Stole Christmas.

My heart was heavy and has been re-broken as I navigate a new stage of my relationship with my ex and my ex-family.  He was kind, offered words of encouragement.  “Fuck them, Hy.  Repeat after me, ‘Fuck them!'”

I said the words and joked that at least I had his cock to make me feel better.  He agreed as I leaned across the chilly night and grabbed his warm, soft bulge.

“You ok?” he asked me.

“Yes,” I answered eyeing his lips.  I brushed them with my own and his soft beard tickled my skin.  “I am now.”

“Good.”  He stood up.  “Text me later, ok?  I’m off to get dinner.”

I thanked him again and finished my warm, cozy night with my gangly limbed little one and the second I knew that sleep had descended on my house I texted a simple, “OK!”

I changed out of my jeans into maroon scrubs and removed my bra.  My heavy breasts sagged against my white cotton shirt and I sighed.  I went and laid down on my couch to wait, excited and even a little nervous.

I heard heavy footsteps, a door open, a door shut and then my door open.  He was here.

I looked at him as he walked into my apartment wearing only black basketball shorts.  “Come on,” he said with his hand out.  “Let’s go.”  His face was serious, his bulge obvious.

I giggled and sat upright, grabbed his hand and skipped a little as he led me to my room.  He shut the door and locked it lest Peyton wake up and need Mommy for something.

I handed him a lighter and gestured toward the candle on my nightstand as I turned off the lights.

I heard the lighter and the room filled with a warm glow.  He turned to me and took my face in his hands and kissed me.  His cologne filled my nostrils and I inhaled the sweet, manly scent.  I pressed my body against his bare chest and pulled back and in one motion removed my shirt then my pants.

I stood before him in purple knee-high socks and black lace panties.  I arched my back a little as I noticed him glance at my breasts and abdomen.  He grabbed me again and pulled me in for a deeper, longer kiss.

I tugged at his shorts and shoved them off the rest of the way with my stockinged foot.  He giggled at my antics, kissed me again then shoved me down on the bed and ripped off my panties.

I could feel my wetness and grew more excited to see his reaction.  He pushed my legs apart and positioned himself between them, his cock found my hole and his eyes grew wide when he felt his cock slide in with such ease.

“Jesus Christ, Hy,” he moaned into my ear.

He began to rock into me and I clung to him.  He kissed my ear, my neck, my lips.  I grew greedy and mewled at him, kissing him back like it was my last opportunity for touch.

I grabbed at his flanks and ground down on him as his arms wrapped around me to hold me to him.  He pounded my fucking pussy like it was his last opportunity for touch.

I gushed and I came in so many bursts that left me breathless, my breasts crushed against the fur of chest grew hot from our friction.  His mouth was all over me, such a rare treat, I felt like a chocolate beneath his mouth and tongue.

He pushed himself up on his knees and bent my legs, my dark purple socks looked like boots.  My pussy was so slick I could barely feel him and I worried aloud about it.  He assured me that wasn’t the case for him.

I began to pant how much I loved his fucking cock over and over, a broken, lusty record.  I clenched, I prayed, I hoped to God he could actually feel me and then I heard a hitch in his voice and his pants began to come in earnest.

The tops of his thighs slammed into the soft undersides of mine as his body jerked and he came deep inside of me.  He paused for a minute and I wanted to cry with relief.  I felt like a rag doll.  But it lasted only a moment before he started to move again.

“No, wait,” I begged.  “Please, stop, please.  Let’s just rest!”  He laughed at me and asked if I was sure.  “I said, yes, please.  I know you’re a sex machine and you can go forever, but please, go easy on me.  I really just want to lay with you.  I’ve cum 14 times already, I swear!”

He laughed again and flopped down next to me and I curled up into his nook.  I lay there thinking how weird it is that I have to tell the man-who-never-cums-in-me to stop fucking me after he finally does.  He’s a special one, that’s for sure.

We lay in each other’s arms and I felt the ooze between my legs and smiled.  I couldn’t wait to wake up the next morning and feel its continuous drip, proof that he was there.

I stroked his shoulders and his temples, anywhere I could lay my hands on him and he melted into me before announcing his departure.

I realized that it has been a solid year since I’ve been monogamous with him.  It feels weird, scary and also very right.  A year’s worth of one man’s semen in and on me, one man’s cock, one man’s eyes.  It feels possessive and free all at once.  It feels truly lovely.

I walked him to the door, gave him a good, hard smack on his ass and kissed him goodnight.  My love, my neighbor, my TN walked next door through a cold 5 feet and disappeared for one more night.

Take us or leave us.

My emotions aren’t unstable, but they do run the gamut.  One week, I feel solid, another I am shaky.  I rehearse speeches to no one and I ferret out my feelings about my non-relationship relationship with single-minded determination.  I want to make sure I am doing what I want to do for good and noble reasons, not out of desperation or habit.

The Neighbor lights me up.  And despite the trauma of our early days I love him more now than ever.  I fight to keep the darkness away, the fear of a life without him, but it’s an easier fight all the time.  When this is done, I will be ok.  I know it.  And part of how I know that is because of what I feel today with him.  I cannot regret one thing we’ve done because it has always been magic.

A few days ago, something happened that was new.

::

He kissed me softly and his new beard pricked my nose and lips like a little nibbling hedgehog.  I moaned and opened my mouth against his and breathed in the perfume of cologne and soap and love.

A candle flung fleeting light against the walls and ceiling and he moved to cover me with his naked, pale body.  His knee pushed my knees apart and he settled his weight above me and positioned his giant cock at my opening.  Our mouths remained connected with soft laps and locked lips.

He pushed at me and I lifted my knees higher and wider and hooked my ankles together behind his buttocks.  He pushed harder and I gave way.  The universe shifted as we joined and pressed our bodies as close together as humanly possible.

“Don’t move,” I whispered against his mouth.  “Stay.” And I pulled him in deeper until I felt him poke my heart.

I wriggled a little and twisted my hips until I screwed down tighter onto him.  He growled into my ear and curled his hips into me slowly.  We began to move like this, the slow motion dance of timeless lovers, on endless waves of lust and passion.

Again and again and again he curved his curved cock into my cunt.  I clung to him with all my limbs and kissed his neck as he kissed mine, a connected yin and yang.

I whimpered as my heart began to feel tender and my pussy began to bloom.  His tempo increased and I heard a squelch from where our bodies met and then another.  He went faster and faster, the curl now a thrust, the dance now a beat.

He pressed up on his arms and I grabbed his hips to pull him in faster, harder.  He hitched my ankles up to his shoulders and sat up, watching my face twist in ecstasy as I came and came in little bursts.

He didn’t cum this time, but he was smiling when he finally stopped and I fell loose into a the puddle below us.  He opened his arms to me and I rolled heavily into them, catching my breath.

“Wow, that was really good,” he said, stroking my arm

“It really was,” I answered.  “It was like you were curling into me.”

“Yeah, it really was.  It felt amazing.  You felt amazing.”

Then we chuckled at our self congratulations and fell silent.  Later, with me on an elbow facing him and him on his we talked about our day, our week, everything, nothing, our navels.  My hair was still in long, wet ropes from my shower and with one hand I pinned it as I talked.

He looked at me softly, strangely then.  “You look really pretty right now,” he said shyly.

“Aw, thank you,” I said and leaned forward to kiss him, but he ducked away and latched onto my bare breast instead.  “No,” I said pulling him up.  “Kiss me here,” and I tapped my mouth with a finger tip.  He gingerly touched his mouth to mine until I pressed in for more and as we kissed I said between them, “That is the sweetest thing you’ve said and thank you so very much.  I’m so glad to know you.”

When our lips fell apart he ducked his head again, but this time into the pillows.  “Aw, what’s the matter?” I asked, rubbing his shoulder.

“I had no idea that was all I had to do to make you feel that good,” was his muffled reply.  “And now I might be feeling bashful.”

“Yep, fuck me hard and tell me I’m pretty!  I’m easy like that,” I laughed, my heart smiling from its melted place.

He looked up at me and I read in his eyes a desire to reach out to me, to touch my face, but he held still and didn’t move.  Then the look passed and we were both back in bed smiling at each other, but the moment had been there.  It’d been there.  He had surprised himself with his sentiment and I was lucky enough to witness it.

He may be too scared to admit it, but I know he’s curled up around my heart as much as I am around his.  We are a tangled, dirty, mess of love and fear.  Take us or leave us.  I choose to take us.

 

 

I had a great nooner once.

Go here to read a little about Geoff. He proved himself to be an agile, robust lover.  If it weren’t for his incessant talking I might have enjoyed myself a lot more than I did.  We were lovers in March and maybe April of 2011.

This post is from old writings from that time. I hadn’t met The Neighbor, yet; I was on a mission to fuck anyone and everyone if only my heart would stop breaking.

Also, amazing what a couple of years of writing will do to the quality of my work. I cringed when I reread it, so I’ve made some changes so I’m not so embarrassed to share.

My sex drive is off the charts.  Being fucked once does nothing except make sure I don’t combust; it whets my appetite for more.  It’s the Sisyphus aspect of this whole thing. 

So I made a date for Geoff to come and fuck me midday, then leave.

I ran out to the top of my stairs to meet him and hoped he could see my white panties up my skirt as he climbed the stairs. 

He smiled all the way up the steps. Fun times were ahead! A little naked party just for me and him!

I flung myself at him as he climbed the last steps and he caught me in his arms and kissed me passionately at the top of the stairs.

Laughing, kissing, and walking backwards I led him to my front door.  His cologne filled my nostrils as his mouth devoured mine and we fell into the apartment. 

Pearl snaps popped open and his shirt fell in a heap on the floor as we continued towards my bed.  He threw me down and stripped off the rest of his clothes.

“I love being fully clothed with a naked man,” I purred as I looked him over.

He was hairless and freckled mostly everywhere and his big, meaty erection hung down and to my left like a wayward banana. He’d ignored my questions about the direction of his erection the one time I’d brought it up, so I figured a man was allowed his secrets. 

I peeled my dress off and he grabbed my panties, then a condom.  Suddenly he was on top of me pile driving into me.  I could feel the tip of his cock on the left side of my canal, brushing my cervix and making me twist beneath him.

For minutes on end he slammed into me and I pushed against the wall and bore down, pushing hard with my velvety muscles with every thrust. 

He grabbed my feet and put them together before his face and fucked me like a rabid dog.  I could barely move when he cussed and stopped, gathering himself, “Oh my God, I’m gonna fucking cum.  I gotta wait a second.”

I laughed and grabbed his ass as he pulled out and dove onto my pussy with his mouth.  His goatee tickled my thighs as his broad, warm tongue lapped at me like a scoop of ice cream.

I panted that I wanted him inside of me again, but he said no.  He lifted his face and kissed me deeply, my own scent a delicious cloud about me.  His other hand worked my clit and I squirted fiercely into his hand as I cried out.  His eyes lit up and he stroked harder; I squirted more, writhing beneath his hand and begged him to fuck me.

He flipped me over and drove into me, his hands gripping my hips tightly.  I swung back down onto him with all my strength, curving a little at the end.  I reached back beneath me and cupped his balls. 

I heard him moan and then begin to speak about how he loved my body and how I was such a good fuck and so good at it. Little sexy kindnesses every woman loves to hear.

My insides were filled and my arms and shoulders were going numb with delight.  I felt tears and laughter pricking my face, giddy with desire and sensation.

Our bodies were slick with sweat when he finally came, his control pinpoint.  We flopped onto my pillows and I quickly grabbed my vibe, asked him to hold my throat tightly and came fast and hard, even squirting some while doing so.

Finally I relaxed and we chatted amiably.  He didn’t talk as much this time and for that I was grateful.  Again he asked if I wanted him to stay or if he should go.  I fibbed and told him a friend was coming over soon and he’d have to leave in 30 minutes.  “Besides, I need to freshen up after the two-hour fuckfest I just had,” I said.

I lazed with my leg slung over him and he held my hand as we laughed and shared stories watching the clock tick 30 minutes.  Then he patted my ass and got up and dressed.  We hugged and kissed and he pressed me up against the wall by the door and promised to call me later.

It was the best nooner I’ve ever had.