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.

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.

My yellow dress always gets me laid.

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Proof of a good night.

I couldn’t help but laugh at the man wrapped in only a white towel glaring at me in my entryway.  Apparently, Downstairs Neighbor, upon being rushed out of my apartment because I was about to get the shit fucked out of me, had hidden behind the corner and when The Neighbor had single-mindedly tried to span the 5 feet between our doors he’d leaped out and scared the shit out of him.  A cat might also have run outside in all the commotion of TN’s glares and DN’s booming laughter.

“Oh, TN!” I laughed putting my hand on his stubbly cheek, the door tightly shut and locked behind us.  “Don’t be mad!!  He had no idea you’d be naked!!”  He leveled a gaze at me that made me giggle some more as if I’d conspired with DN to humiliate him!

I laughed some more, just simply couldn’t help it, frankly.

I kissed his cheek and hugged his stiff body and to prove his “anger” he let the towel drop and his erection bobbed heavily between us.  I grabbed it and whispered against his mouth, “I swear, DN had no idea you’d be in a towel!  It was just a joke!”

He melted against me with a grin and took my hand, led me back to my candlelit room.  “Ok,” he finally said still smiling and pulled me closer.

He bent his hand and slanted his mouth across mine, long, soft and sweet surrounded by sandpaper whiskers.  I moaned a little as he removed my cardigan.

“You look so hot in this dress,” he said taking a breath.  I swelled with pride.  My yellow dress, the yellow dress.  It always does me right.

He dipped his head back down to the top of my cleavage and I closed my eyes as his scruff left red blooms on my skin.

He returned to my lips and I breathed him in, lost in my love.  Our fingers explored the dips and swells of our figures, my face nibbling on his.

He pushed the little straps off my shoulders and the top of my dress pooled around my waist.  My breasts filled his hands and mouth and we laughed when I needed help pulling the dress back up and over my double Ds.

He grabbed my white cotton panties and tore them off.  “Leave the boots on,” he said lustily and shoved me down on the bed.

I sighed as he entered me and pulled my bottom to the edge of the bed.  My knee-high brown leather riding boots framed his face and he turned into one calf and kissed it.  I could hear him smell the leather.

His cock was enormous and I was wet as fuck.  He leaned down and kissed me and I stared boldly up at him then shut my eyes as he slowly stroked my body with his.

I thought of the strict orders he’d received from his physical therapist to not do any vigorous fucking for a while and groaned.  “Don’t hurt yourself, TN,” I warned as I felt his tempo increase.  “If you do, you’ll be in big trouble.”  I panted the words in time with his thrusts.  He only smiled mischievously at me and kept at it.

I tossed my head from side to side as it all began to feel more like torture.  An exquisite, stupidly hot and wet, torture.

He seemed to sense my agony and lifted me up fully onto the bed and positioned himself between my legs. For a quick 30 seconds he pumped like horny stray dog into me and I came just as rapidly; little bursts strung together by moans, grabbed skin, and warm breath on my neck.

He stopped then, panting.  “Damn you,” I admonished.  “I’m all vibe-y.  Are you ok?”  I shook my hands like little helicopters.

“Yes, I’m ok,” he said. “And that reminds me…” he leaned over, still inside of me, and grabbed my Hitachi.  “Here you go.”  He flicked it on and lay beside me with my legs over his hips.

It took forever and a day for me to spill over, but with the struggle came the reward:  his words, his mouth; he stroked my temple and told me what a good girl I was.  And then we cuddled and loved and talked and I dozed stupidly for minutes on end.

Then he kissed me again and squeezed me, tucked me in, loved on Faisal who’s claimed him for his own, and left quietly.

The next morning I awoke naked and in a sunbeam, my body sore in all the right places.  My boots lay in a heap on the floor next to my white panties, the vibrator lay like a bone a couple of feet away and my pretty yellow dress hung draped over the foot of my bed.

My wonderful, lucky, get-laid-every-time yellow dress.  Thank you, Old Navy.

 

Pussy trumps cock or I can’t make him cum.

To get The Neighbor to cum I have to do an elaborate dance of tension, pressure, sensuality, and stamina. It is not for the faint of heart. My neck hurts, my arms, my mouth will feel drawn and tight. But I persevere because I love him and I love his cock.

The man may be blessed to have a large cock, but he is blocked. His vice-like grip on himself and his emotions also extends to orgasm when a woman is upon him; neither her mouth or her pussy are always the key. They’re occasional keys.

He laments his troubles, but finds great pleasure in what he gives to me and what I do for him. It’s like an almost-perfect birthday gift. Much like millions of men around the world whose women never orgasm beneath them, I trust him when he says he doesn’t need to cum to enjoy himself. I was that woman for years. I get it.

Not only is giving TN a blowjob a performance, I also have to be in the right mindset to make him cum. The sun and moon and stars are involved every time. And lately, they have been misaligned. I’ve been tired, mildly suffocated, agitated, frustrated, and most recently sad and mourning.

Our relationship is good, but it’s not great. We hover in this purgatory of “everything but…” I have everything but hand-holding in a movie theater. Everything but sweet kisses for no reason. Everything but outings with my baby and my man. Everything but having him be a part of my family.

It’s been weighing on me these past few months and I’ve struggled to stay grateful for the moment and all the “everythings.” But with that comes a fatigue which robs me of my ability to perform. I still slurp and love on him — all the time — but I hold back and don’t slip into that place where I know I can make him cum.

In addition, I become frustrated with him for jerking off before he comes over to see me — typically, his third of the day — so I let that domino topple into the rest and therefore I don’t bother, either. He wants to empty his body of seed? Ok, then I won’t try to draw something out that isn’t there to be had.

The sex continues to be hot as fuck, my love for him is stable, possibly growing, and everything is generally kosher (dare I say boring), I just haven’t felt open enough to go there lately. Until the other night.

He came into my room still warm from his shower and smelling of hibiscus this time. I pulled him down to the mattress and splayed my fingers through his chest hair and purred, hitched my leg up over his and pressed my entire body against him. I found myself in a loving and timeless place. I wanted to try this time. He gives so much to me all the time it hurt to think about how little he’s willing to take from me.

My “I Heart Dave” shirt pulled on my breasts as I crawled down between his legs and spread his knees with my body. His erection bobbed hot and heavy, his sac languished below like a bulbous root.

I cupped him gently and tugged then squeezed his shaft with my free hand. He stretched a little beneath me.

I planted my right hand next to his left hip, gripped him with my left, and gently sucked him into my mouth. Soft. Slow. Long. Deep as I could go.

He sighed and pressed into my face.

I closed my eyes then and moved into my dance. I became him as best as I could, listened to every twitch, moan, and movement he shared. His breath caught once, twice, three times. I stopped after each, caught my breath, focused on ignoring my discomfort after minutes on end of continued loving.

He was fighting himself, I knew. I could feel it swarm around me, this battle to just. let. go.

And I was losing.

I paused then and slithered up to his mouth, kissed the corner of it and offered him a breast, popped out over my neckline. He moaned and suckled and twisted my free breast with his hand and stuffed his face with my other breast.

He switched back and forth between my right and my left, mewling and grunting. I repositioned myself so I straddled him; I felt his cock push at the crotch of my black lace panties.

“No,” I said. “Cock trumps boobs.” I wanted to get back to him, to his beautiful, sad penis. I wanted to win.

He sat up suddenly then pushing me off of him and flipping me over. My knees splayed open around him.

He was resplendent in the candlelight, his naked body light and furry, all bulging muscles.

“No,” he countered. “Pussy trumps cock.” And in one smooth motion he pulled off my panties and rammed himself inside of me.

I sighed as I gave up and let him stroke me slowly, his icy blue eyes locked on my face. I couldn’t meet his gaze. I didn’t know where to look. But he knows me well.

He knows that within seconds I don’t have to worry about where I’ll be looking anymore because my eyes will be closed, my head thrown back, my face flushed and my moans uncontainable.

He smirked at me as he witnessed my passion grow beyond my control and I tossed my head from side to side, clutched at his hips, pushed against the creaky metal bed frame.

“Please,” I gasped. “Please, please, please…” I trailed off into a whimper.

“Please, what?” he grinned devilishly, his hips moved slowly. Painfully, exquisitely.

“Fuck me. Fuck me harder. Now.”

And it was as if my words were like a starter gun. He burst out of the gate and slammed into me, his hooves pounding, flying, my body the turf and I blossomed into orgasm again and again.

My own journey to self-discovery — and opening up the the possibility of being orgasmic — was the key to unlocking my box. His cock and my brain are an unstoppable duo, but I had to be present, there.

And as I lay beneath him being jostled by his pounding into my pussy I thought wistfully that I wished I could give him this, too. This hover-over-your-body sensual, ethereal luxury.

He pinned my wrists on either side of my head and jack-hammered into me. My pussy gushed and I felt my juices trickle down between my bottom cheeks. I hung on like a rag doll jockey and hoped beyond all hope that he would cum. But my hopes were for naught.

Exhausted, he slumped over me and rested. He was done.

We lay entwined and breathed heavily next to one another. We cuddled and I played with his diminishing erection. I asked him if he was ok not cumming. He said of course he was. I don’t ask every time he doesn’t cum, but every so often I do. I suppose I should stop, but I just want him to know I care. I don’t want him to think I’m selfish or indifferent to his pleasure.

I take some comfort in knowing he’s cum more with me than he has with any other woman. I’m also the first woman to ever make him cum from a blowjob (his old Domme swung through town a few weeks after he and I met and she was able to make him cum that night — I can’t help but take credit for it, though. I broke the seal.). He also never came with 4 am girl — or even came close. I take comfort in that, too.

It’s strange to be the one who cums, but I’ll take it. And I’ll keep working on cracking his code. His goddamned riddle wrapped in an enigma inside a conundrum. I want him to feel half as good as he makes me feel and I often tell him as much. If he got even a glimpse of what I feel he’d want to return to that place time and time again. I want his key.

Friday, May 10th, is Boobday!

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A strange thing happened last night: under a balmy, cool night sky — and before the watchful eyes of our friends and a cute, young thing he’d been sitting next to — The Neighbor sat in my lap and nuzzled my neck.  He whispered how beautiful I was and pressed his heavy hand in between my jean-clad thighs.

I’d been wondering if the cute, young thing was more his type when he got up, came around the table and sat beside me, his leg draped over mine.  I guess not.

And then he took me home with the windows down and the wind in our hair and fucked me so senseless that I could only abuse my clit with my Hitachi.  My stubborn, fickle body refused to comply with my demands and I gave up whimpering, orgasm-less.  So he came to my rescue again as I lay alone beside him and curled his fingers into me and gave me one of my new orgasms with a messy, ridiculous splash and a shudder.

I slept on a towel and a smile.

Happy Boobday, y’all.

xx

Hy

Want to participate in Boobday?  Go here to check out the guidelines. 

Also, I’m going to change it up a little and say that I need to have pics no later than Wednesday.  My softball schedule makes it next to impossible for me to get this put together Thursdays. 

My tits:

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Cross my heart.

NOT my tits:

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A return participant who invites us to crawl up that lusciousness.

 

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It’s the lovely, lovely, G.

 

 

 

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The creamy and delicious LSAM.

 

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Scarlett left her funk for us to share this.

 

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Silverdrop posing for her SilverHubby.

 

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This is Shannon. She’s a long-time reader, she says, but this is her first submission. Her goal this year is to “gain more self confidence and just put myself out there, flaws and all, no matter what everyone else thinks.”

 

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She let me pick which pics to post. I chose them both.

 

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This is also PinkKitten’s first time sharing her breasts and, as she put it, she has “finally managed to muster the courage to submit my tits for Boobday, and my fiance was kind enough to make a small contribution.”

 

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An anonymous, (badass), Aussie submission.

 

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“Ginger, Daddy’s little pet,” as she says.

 

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Kayla and her ridiculously pretty jewelry.