Instead of hitting the gym, he did me instead.

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Warm and cozy.

Outside the wind whipped freezing weather through us all, the trees, our streets, our flimsy coats, but inside I was warm and toasty.  A log glowed with its dying embers and my heater spewed warm air into the apartment like a never-ending breath.  I sat at the computer, my desktop, searching for apartments or duplexes, anything that would fit me and Peyton when I heard a quick knock at my door and the handle turn.

The Neighbor wasn’t due to come over until 9, after the gym and after dinner.  It was only 6.

I looked up and he filled the doorway with his black pea coat and rosy cheeks.  “Fuck, it’s cold out there!  And I don’t want to go to the gym.”  He looked at me meaningfully.

“Are you saying you’d like to do a horizontal workout?”  I was half joking, but hopeful.

“Yes, that’s exactly what I mean,” he answered with a smile.

I stood up and closed the gap between us and wrapped my arms around his cold exterior while giving him a soft kiss, dropping everything I’d been doing.  “You’re so cold!” I exclaimed and then screamed when two ice cold hands wrapped around my breasts.  “What the fuck!” and I yelled again laughing.

“You’re so hot!!” he laughed and squeezed his handfuls with gusto.

I stood there patiently while his hands warmed up and he wiggled his eyebrows at me.  I stepped back and his hands dropped to the bulge in his jeans.  A ridge larger than a banana had appeared where none had been only moments before.  I hmmm’d my approval and rubbed it and sat back down at the computer.  He walked around to lay by the dying fire and play with the cat.

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One warm breast.

I wondered at my accessibility, how open and willing I am to drop whatever it is I’m doing to play with him: is that real?  Is that sustainable?  I pushed the thoughts out of my head and went to kneel beside him. 

I kissed his soft lips buried in whiskers and felt his cool hands reach for my breasts again.  I lifted my shirt and shifted one into his mouth.

His warm, wet mouth pulled at me and I was reminded of all those months of nursing my baby.  The tug, the pull, the stinging surge of milk as it came to a head and spilled out.  I wished I could feel that again.  I switched breasts and he continued to suckle.  Eyes closed, hands stroking the backs of my jean-clad thighs and where they joined. I moaned a little and pulled away.

His bulge was even bigger.

He stood up and I raised up on my knees.  “I’m wondering if I should leave without fucking you.  I told myself I would,” he said, always the game player.

“Do whatever you want,” I replied looking up at him and undoing his belt.  “You probably should leave.”  I peeled away his jeans and pulled out the head of his giant cock, stiff and full of itself.  He helped maneuver his underpants and his balls while I licked the big head and slowly, yet softly, drove it into my mouth.

His moans encouraged me and I pushed my gag reflex away as I took as much of him as I could, still 2 inches short of all of it.  My saliva began a trail down my wrist as I sucked and pulled, completely lost on my knees.  He was now stark naked.

“Fuck, that feels good,” he said.  “I’ve missed that so much!”  I felt a pang of guilt and quickly squashed it.  I do what I can.

“Let’s go to your bed,” he said, hand out to me.  I took it and got to my feet and quickly followed him into my room.  He lit a candle and it danced for us in the winter dusk.  His naked body gleamed as he came to me and took my face in his hands.

We kissed and kissed and he whipped my clothes off of me and pressed himself against me.  I wanted to say “I love you,” but kept it to myself.  He pushed me roughly onto the bed instead and climbed on top, growling.

His cock pushed its way beyond my folds and spread me wide open.  I wriggled and grabbed at his flanks to pull him in closer.  He kissed my ear and my neck.  I wanted to say “I love you,” again, but kept silent.

When he began to move I mewled and thrust and ground back.  He slammed into me 1000 times and I rocked back into the mattress like a ragdoll.  I came again and again and he split my legs and ground on my clit with his abdomen.  I went wild with painful pleasure and wondered if I would cum this way, like scissor sisters.

“I love your cock, I fucking love your cock,” I whispered over and over, though really I wanted to say only “I love you.”

Sweat began to slick between us and I was spurred to buck harder and faster.  He. will. never. forget. me. I thought.  I am more than everything.  The pounding, the beating I took filled my head and my arms like sand and my eyes saw only stars.  We were these humping, thumping animals rutting the fuck out of each other.  And then we stopped, exhausted.  I felt my heart battering against its cage and I put my hand on his and felt the same fluttering.  I couldn’t move.

“I really do love your cock,” I said between heavy breaths.  “And I love you,” I added bravely. “I love you, too.” We laughed at my silliness, but he didn’t reply.  There was only silence.

I felt tears well up inside overwhelmed by his lack of response, by him being so TN, so android-like, like the code for /reciprocate “I love you” got broken.

Slowly he pulled out and lay beside me.  “I hate it when you go,” I pouted.

“But I can’t lay next to you if I don’t; I’m too far away.”  I closed my eyes and let the tears come.  Disappointment and satisfaction nearly equal parts of each.

He stroked my hair a few times then seemed to remember that that’s too intimate and stopped.  “You get a good enough workout in?” I asked, forcing my sadness away.

“Indeed I did!  Thank you!” He leaned over and kissed me deeply.  We lay together for a few more minutes before he got up to leave and I decided to join him for a store-run for dinner.  When we got home we said we’d see each other later, but we wouldn’t.

At 9:15 he called to say he’d decided to go to bed while the mood was hot.  He was worried I’d feel rejected.  I didn’t, but it made me wonder again at my availability and openness.  When he’d come over I was in the middle of doing work that was important to me, but I dropped it all instantly, not to mention I would never cancel a cuddle with him just because I was tired.  But that’s on me — bad boundaries and everything. I never get full. Ever. I’m a bucket with holes.

At least I get fucked. There’s always that. And I love him. Even if he isn’t entirely comfortable with his love for me. Maybe this move will be for the best.

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Two warm breasts.

I feel a little empty.

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I look robust.

Stress about money has reached another fever pitch. The move, solvency in general — I feel so fucked. Add allergies, my exhusband, my fear of what my life will be like not living next door to The Neighbor anymore, and the stinging, always there guilt I feel about my secret sex blog and you get a raisin of a woman, not a plump and glistening grape.

I’m also tired. Tired and empty.

TN fucked me to tears on Friday. He was a fiend. I’d spent some time with a girlfriend and come home early. He was ready and waiting for me as I climbed the 40 steps up.

It was different this time, though, only the third coupling since our I LOVE YOUs. We didn’t mean to fuck, it just happened.

I pet his soft pile of flesh absentmindedly while we cuddled. It grew long, hot and hard, and suddenly a switch was flipped. He was going to have me.

And so I let him.

He kissed and nipped and I grabbed and moaned. Ankles on shoulders, one leg up, one down. Orgasms streamed through me and poured out of my face in the hot tears and sobs that burst forth.

No Hitachi made me cry like that. Just him.

We lay and cuddled and talked about our fears, going in circles. “If it sucks, then we’ll stop, because if it sucks, we’ll stop.” In my defense, I was barely coherent.

Can’t stop the world turning or sands through the hourglass and all that.

As for money, I need to find the old lady strip joint and grab a shift. Seriously. I’ve worked hard over the last year and made massive strides in getting my career going, but it’s like slogging through knee-high mud.

TN is always reminding me that a year ago I was making basically $0 and today I make a lot more than that, but it’s still not good enough. And I’m back to feeling like a raisin.

I wish I felt as good as I look in these pics.

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Plump.

 

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.

 

 

He surprised me.

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The morning after.

Last Thursday night I ended up subbing for a friend’s softball team. The night was crisp the mosquitoes insatiable and then I got to sub for a second game. A double-header! I ran, I hit, I caught, I laughed, I sipped on an impossibly cold light beer.

I texted The Neighbor that I’d be subbing for a second game and he texted back his signature smiley face with a nose.

After the game and a cigarette with old teammates I walked smiling to my car. It felt like it’d been years since I had the kind of freedom to say Yes to something like subbing for a game, let alone a second, spur of the moment game.

I turned my radio on; NPR and Ira Glass’ twangy voice came on loud and clear. It was This American Life and they were 10 minutes into the first act about real life superheros.

Act 2 came on and was still going as I pulled into my parking lot. I set the car in park and sat listening and laughing, in awe of the talent and wonder I was listening to. As it finished I sighed and gathered my things and, still smiling, climbed my stairs. I couldn’t wait to ask TN if he’d rather be invisible or have the ability to fly.

As I climbed the final set of stairs my phone chimed. I knew it was him so didn’t look until I reached my door, passing a cloud of cologne as I did so. I thought of Vanilla Ice for a second then looked at my phone. “You home yet?” it read. I knocked on his door instead of answering. No answer. But the cologne lingered. Had he spritzed the air between our doors or just come home? Was he lingering just inside his door teasing me? I turned my key and disappeared into my apartment.

Faisal greeted me with meow in the dark and I tossed my keys with a clank into their metal bowl. I walked a few more silent feet in the dark until I reached the kitchen and switched on a light. I stopped at the bar and reviewed my schedule for the following day taking careful note to see when I needed to go to work.

I finally texted TN back, “I knocked. Where are you?”

The cat was sitting in front of my bedroom door expectantly. “What do you want, little stinky butt?” I said as I pushed the door open ready to start folding the mountain of clothes on my bed.

I gasped when the light went on.

There on my bed, naked as a jay bird, lay The Neighbor. All creamy white and pink with dark chest hair spread like fairy dust, his hands casually cradling his head.

We laughed at me as I realized I had clutched my pearls. I dropped my hands and jumped on the bed. “TN!” I exclaimed, “You bastard!” and I fell on him with my arms wrapped around his warm waist, sat up and kissed his stomach and trailed up to his mouth. “But what a lovely surprise!”

He chuckled at his stealth. He’d seen me sitting in my car and then get out and start the climb up.

I was overwhelmed. How many nights had I dreamed that he’d do something like this? Uncountable, really, and here he was.

I gripped his cock in my hand and squeezed. It was deliciously chubby and quickly getting harder. I kissed his jaw and moaned when he flipped me over and ripped off my workout capris. “Get these fucking things off of you,” he growled as he peeled off my socks, too.

Roughly he shoved my knees apart and as I looked at him his head was framed by the whirling fan. It looked like a giant spray of gold, a ridiculous, but fitting crowning glow my lover.

He licked his hand and swept it quickly over the head of his cock, now huge and bobbing. I scowled at him. He knew I hated it when he did that; I’m wet enough. Always. He chuckled and pressed himself into me, long and slow.

I made him stop as I tore off my t-shirt and bra then let him finish filling me up, that moment when the world stops ticking and there is nothing but this man between my legs and in my heart.

He pumped once and my eyes rolled back in my head. He pumped again and I clutched his shoulders. And then he increased the tempo. Slowly, surely, intently. He watched every twitch and shudder I had gauging my presence. A little faster and the words, “I’m cumming!” flew out of my mouth as I swelled and burst around him.

Then he made me tell him all about the game as he kept fucked me. I laughed and did my best, but he was getting more serious. I could feel it as he tensed.

I peeked up at him and he was ferocious looking. My breasts jiggled and I grabbed his flanks to pull him into me. I came again and my pussy squelched her pleasure just as he groaned. We’d noticed the wetness at the same moment.

Faster, harder, more, more, more. He drove me to the brink and pushed me over one more time then collapsed exhausted on top of me. He laid down beside me, still buried deep inside and curled up around me.

I pressed my bottom back into him and he pushed back. His cock felt like a lance, harder than before, more present. I rocked back again and he slid against me. It felt velveteen and abrasive, there.

Slowly, steadily we pushed, rocked, and slid. His free hand gripped my hip and his grunts grew more intense, his pushes deeper and then in a flurry of thrusts he came inside of me, his hot, sweet breath on my neck.

The bedroom lights were still on and the cat sat at the end of the bed blinking at us.

We talked for a few more minutes and then he tucked me in. I fell asleep with my cunt filled with cum and a smile on my face.

Best surprise ever and I never did get around to asking him which super power he’d choose.

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.