We’re cuddled together dozing, drowsily caressing each other, falling in and out of sleep. Neither of us wants to move.”You’re leaving me tomorrow,” he murmurs into my hair. His arm tightens around me. There’s a trace of incredulity in his voice. I know why. He can’t believe that his cock hasn’t enslaved me. He can’t believe that I’m not constantly blowing up his phone begging for it, willing to do anything, to put up with anything, for more of it. He respects that, but it pisses him off. He’s been showing me exactly how much.

I’m light-headed and the scent of his skin, the scent our bodies conjure together, is intoxicating me. I’m very close to saying that I made a mistake and of course I’ll be seeing him again. I mean, who doesn’t want to have sex like this for the rest of forever? But I yank myself back to reality. He is unavailable, I remind myself. He’s already caused me enough heartache.

Later, when we’re in the shower I can’t help appreciating his lean, well-muscled body and tight ass. I want to lick that muscle on his thigh, his abs, bite his ass…I’m suddenly overwhelmed by the desire to take him in my mouth.  I wait.

Back in the bedroom and in my collar and chain, he sits on the edge of the bed and says quietly: “Drop the towel. Do a full turn. I want to look at you.”

“Ok.” I slowly turn but feel embarrassed. His lips have kissed every inch of my body, but to be looked at so baldly was still uncomfortable. Go figure.

“That just does not happen,” he says, looking at me in admiration.”What?


“Those tits, that ass.” he says appreciatively. “It’s either one or the other, not both. Outstanding,” he smiles.

“Thank you,” I’m still embarrassed. “They’re real,” I add. Just in case.

“Oh, I know.” He pulls me to him and wants to get me in bed again but I resist. He looks surprised for a second. I hold his gaze and drop to my knees between his thighs.

I peel away his towel and take his cock in my mouth, and slowly suck the length of him (almost) up and down, getting him slick and wet and hard. I tease that spot, the back of the head where it meets the vein, with my tongue, before sliding his shaft into my mouth as deeply as  I can and swirling my tongue around it. I hear him moan.
He’s sitting on the edge of the the bed and I’m sucking, licking, tasting him, my hand around the base of his cock and my lips and tongue moving more and more rapidly up and down his shaft, tasting every single ridge and vein, making him throb in my mouth.

I build up speed and take him further into my mouth as I relax my throat, and finally his cock hits the back of my throat, sublime; I love that moment, when I’m in the zone and totally into it and can get him as deep as I can. I suck faster, wanting his cock to hit that spot again and again…until he starts moving his hips urgently. I don’t want him to come yet, so I hold him in my mouth for a bit, stroking him with my tongue, feeling him throb and hearing his breathing calm.

I stop sucking briefly to look at and lick his beautiful curved cock. I run my lips up and down his raging hardness before licking him in looong strokes, from base to tip, and swirl my tongue around his glistening head. That curve. That length. I smile as I lick him, recalling all the joy it’s given me. I look up at him and he’s watching me,
“You’re so beautiful,” he whispers. “and so bad.”

His cock starts to twitch and just as I take him in my mouth again I slip my and under him and slip two fingers into his ass. Not too deep, just enough to blow his mind. I feel him tighten, but I wiggle my fingers slightly and keep sucking hard and fast, hoping he won’t remove my hand. He doesn’t.

He grabs a fistful of my hair and starts shoving into me slightly, getting deeper into my throat, grunting with urgency his explosion building and building until I think I might just choke on him but I just think “open” and my throat muscles release and he’s able to fuck my mouth.

“Oh yeah, baby, suck it, take it, eat it…” he whispers.

I moan, feeling arousal in my pussy from watching his gorgeous cock batter me and I moan softly around the mouthful of cock.

His cock gives a violent twitch and he grunts, and groans as he explodes inside my mouth, his cum down my throat and running out the side of my mouth and down onto my chest.

He slips out of my mouth and back onto the bed, breathing hard, and pulls me up onto the bed next to him. He touches my face.

“Did you just deep-throat me?”


“Oh my god,” he whispers, and dozes off.

I curl up next to him, plotting how to fuck him next. Our time together is almost over and there’s not a moment to waste.


Buy Me a Coffee at

The Sigh – Terminator 3

It’s been weeks. We need to talk, but lust, as always, is heavy in the air between us. We’ve spoken briefly about the stressful week we’ve had. We’re smiling, delighted to be in the same room at last. We kiss, and as we melt into each other, we make the same noise at the same time, a musical sigh of bliss and contentment  Finally we’re I together again.

Our kisses are tender and hungry, a blend of fire-roasted sensuality and sweetness that’s almost beyond enduring. Our tongues linger as we lick, nibble, bite, and suck, loving not only each other’s mouths but eyes, noses, cheeks, ears and necks, eliciting moans and sighs and gasps of pleasure. As we fall back on the bed we’re tightly entwined in a long kiss. He breaks the kiss and moves to my neck and proceeds to lick and suck his way down to my breasts, where he lavishes attention on my nipples before moving slowly down my stomach to my pussy, which evidently is his favorite place in world. Yes, baby yes.

He moans as I push against his wicked tongue, which is both soft and relentless, caressing and insistently driving me out of my mind with pleasure. He stops and kisses that crease where my leg meet my pussy on each side, licking and sucking the full length of me before returning to torment me with licks up and down the center before returning to my clit, which is now aching for attention. His soft insistence is driving me over the edge when he inserts two fingers inside me and turns me into a moaning, panting screaming animal. Oh. My. God. Yessssss!

He’s standing at the edge of the bed, looking me with this lop-sided smile and he doesn’t give me a second. He takes my leg and says “Turn over.” Who am I to argue? First he gives me a back massage that is soooo good I want to reciprocate but he refuses.

He props me up on my knees and proceeds to dive head first into my ass (guys I don’t get this but it feels heavenly) and then my pussy. His kisses move down my legs from thigh to toes. He takes each one in his mouth. Then the other leg…sweet Jesus, and then having properly turned me to jelly, he enters me from behind, where we start slowly, sweetly and build up speed and intensity until he pounds me to another amazing orgasm. I’m incoherent by this point and he he gathers me up in his arms and holds me. We’re all kissy and caress-y and I’ve never been more content in my life, but things are about to take a turn for the complicated.

So when last I heard from the Terminator, we were at a standoff of sorts. I had lied, he knew or suspected, and all communication had stopped.  I said I wouldn’t reach out until he did, and then the bad date happened. Then I  decide to do Talmud guy but he has to go to London for a week. We tried mightily to fit in a tryst before he left, but couldn’t. So there I was, frustrated, fed up, and out of viable options.

I called Terminator early on Wednesday afternoon but got no answer. I hung up and thought I’d try one more time in the morning. After that, oh well.  That evening he called me back and we talked for over an hour. We didn’t discuss the impasse at all. It was a “so glad to hear from you” conversation. We talked about family (his mom is sick and recovering), his birthday (which happened while we weren’t communicating), his five-year-plan and raising kids and food. And of course when we would see each other again.

But just like his bed, whenever I tried to end the conversation so he could tend to his family he wanted to keep going. We were both happy (I know I was thrilled). “It’s not like we get to talk a lot when we’re together,” he says. “Basically I just want to tear your clothes off the minute I see you.”  He truly sounds elated to hook up Friday, as am I. But we both know there’s the elephant in the room that must be attended to. Apparently we’re equally reluctant. Well, it would be better face to face anyway.

Post Coitus
We’ve been relaxing a little while and I say “Let me ask you a question. How do you keep from getting emotionally involved with all these women? I think I’m getting emotionally involved, and I so don’t want to be that chick that’s totally strung out on a guy who’s not interested…I don’t know what to do.”

“Usually I re-direct myself, think about other things, focus on something else, but…”
“But it hasn’t been working with you.”
“I thought I was sensing something, but I wasn’t sure, then I thought I was crazy…don’t say what you think I want to hear. I need you to be totally honest.”

“You’re not crazy. It’s amazing between us. When I try to ask you about it you change the subject. The last time was so amazing and then you couldn’t get out of here fast enough.”

“That’s not true!” I’m laughing, but really I didn’t rush out.

“You ran out of here like a bat out of hell,” he’s laughing now.
Is that true? Was I so afraid of catching feelings that I ran out of his house? I don’t think so but…

“It’s just that neither of us wants a relationship, that’s how this started, I was trying to decide what to do.”

“So what have you decided?” He sounded like he expected me to dump him. Maybe in an alternate universe.

“To deal with it, and talk to you. One of my friends said you had to be going through the same thing.”

“She was right.”

“I tried re-directing. I mean I didn’t go to Vegas, that was about creating distance, and I’m trying dating other people.”

“Yeah,” he says “I tried that too for my birthday weekend…it was soooo bad…I don’t want to talk about it.”

I laugh. I knew it was his birthday and I was so upset he didn’t tell me anything about it, I thought I had my proof that he wasn’t interested in me beyond fucking my brains out. Now this.

“But it’s been so fast,” I say. “Don’t you think?”

“I’m like ‘why am I sitting here missing her? Thinking about her?’ I’m recently divorced [3 years] and not supposed to be feeling like this about anyone.” He recently stopped skyping with his ex who is re-married and lives across the country. I think he has unresolved feelings for her, but he denies it vehemently. But he thinks three years ago is recently.

“Me too. I almost didn’t send you my playlist (some sexy jazz I put together) because I thought the titles would freak you out.”

“You cannot freak me out.”

“So from day one? I’m not crazy? it was that fast?”

“Day one. When you left I couldn’t believe it.”

“It’s so exhausting pretending this isn’t happening, I don’t want to do that anymore. I just want to enjoy this, as long as we’re on the same page.”
So I didn’t want to have a big huge discussion about what does this mean and are we going to forsake all others because I’m not ready for that, and neither is he. I told him I wanted to keep things the way they were (except more) and as long as we were honest and respectful of each other’s feelings, cool. I didn’t get into specifics because I was freaked out enough bringing up feelings in the first place. That will come later. Yeah, I’ve had therapy. What?

But I’m being naive. Feelings aren’t static; things are going to get more intense, possession is going to come into play (I’m a Leo and once I fuck you, you pretty much belong to me forever is the way it goes in my head), and because relationships are complicated.

And, after our talk (which is paraphrased and shortened here) the sex got better.  How is that even friggin’ possible? There was depth; more tenderness, more feeling, more expression…Ok, the man made me stop a blowjob because it was too intense and he started shivering? I would rate my skills as only slightly above average; those always have to come from the heart with me, and he’s never asked, which means he deserves it. And I’m more orgasmic than I’ve ever been in my life. I thought it was hormones. Maybe it’s feelings.

Image: The Lovers by Richard Young available for purchase here. I do not own the image or copyright, no infringement intended.
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