I give blowjobs in hot tubs.

“I had a really great time tonight,” he said sounding surprised and pleased.  He kissed me then walked out the door.

“Me, too,” I answered back.

My feelings about The Neighbor, as everyone knows, are complicated.  I’m not sure what the split is for me between being cool and being a mess, but there’s definitely both residing in me.  The messages he sends me are all over the map: leave me alone, come to me; I want you, I don’t want you; we’re dating, we’re not dating; you’re the hottest woman ever, I want a woman who looks nothing like you.  I’m beginning to forgive myself for my mood swings.  I’m only human, after all.

Last night we had plans.  Around 7 I texted him to ask when we were hanging out.  He said, “How about after dinner?  At 8?”  Immediately, I’m put out.  I’d turned down a dinner invitation with Roy because I figured eating would be part of my time with TN, but ok, whatever.  Again, more mixed messages, no communication.  He’s not to blame, the fact we don’t talk enough is.

I read something today that really resonated with me: There are three things typically at the root of what upsets us: 1) an unmet expectation, 2) a thwarted intention, or 3) a communication issue.  Makes sense, right?

Last night I was in a foul mood.  A mood Hyacinth rarely indulges in, actually.  I’m uncomfortable with being angry or irritable; I’m afraid that no one will allow me to feel this way and then reject me.  When TN came over I was sleeping in my robe.  We laid down together and dozed and chatted.  I told him I was in a bad way and he took my hand and put it on “my security cock”.  He immediately got hard.  I stroked him while I told him about my date with Mitchell, my ambivalence about my second date, my long week, my fairly good day.

We inspected his bumps on his belly which were fading and he pulled his cock out.  I gripped it, but couldn’t bring myself to suck it.  I wasn’t even in the mood for his dick.  “Wow.  You really are feeling bad!” he commented.

“Yep,” I threw over my shoulder as I left the bedroom.

He followed me out and caught up to me. “What can I do to make you feel better, Hycie?” he asked kneading my shoulders.

Leave me the fuck alone, is what I thought, but instead I said, “I don’t know… I just feel like shit.  I’m hungry for one, and don’t have any wine.  Let’s walk to the store.”

I got dressed and he watched me while lounging on my bed.  “So tell me more about Mitchell.  Do you guys have chemistry?”

I didn’t know how to answer.  “I can have chemistry with anyone for two hours.  I don’t know.”

“What’s our chemistry like?”

Now I really didn’t know how to answer.  “What do you think our chemistry is like?” I volleyed back.

“It’s good.  Really good.”

“Ok, then, I agree.  With Mitchell, it’s hard to tell.  It’s not like what you and I have.”

We went next door for him to put on his pants and send an email.  I laid down in his bed.  He came in and turned off the lights.  “Hycie needs to be spooned,” he said and crawled in behind me and wrapped his arm around me, his hand filled up with a breast.

I wanted to just disappear.  This push and pull on me has exhausted me.  I don’t find it remotely amusing anymore.  Either come at me or just leave me alone, but don’t be kind to me when I need kindness.  It’s not fair.  Then I felt his arousal against my bottom.

“Is that your thigh or are you hard?” I asked.

“Both.”

I wriggled back a little and he drew my skirt up over my hip and hit my flank hard.  Sparks flew through me.  “Do it again.”  His heavy hand came down again.  And again.  He traced the hot spot with his fingertips between spanks and my mood shifted.  This felt better.  This physical pain at his hand.  I arched back harder into the cradle of his hips.  “More,” I said.

He hit me some more until even the traces hurt exquisitely.

Soon, his clothes were off and my skirt was hiked up over my waist, panties flung to the floor.  He entered me slowly and plunged deeply, with care.  We rocked in slow-motion, eyes locked together in the darkness, his hand on my head to  keep it from bumping the headboard.

“Your pussy, it feels so fucking good.  Oh my God, I love fucking you.  Jesus Christ!” and he continued his slow punishment.

My cunt pulsed and vibrated around his cock, my chest grew heavy and emotion swelled into my throat.  I clung to his buttocks and wrapped my arms around him, his face was buried in my neck.  Still slow, still powerfully deep we locked together in the embrace.

He lifted up and drew my legs up to his shoulders and kept at me.  All I could feel was him inside of me, his hands firmly gripping my ankles.  Then he crossed my legs and I lost it.  My pussy cried with my face.  Finally he stopped and disengaged.

“We’ve never fucked this gently before,” he said.

“No, but I wouldn’t say it was ‘gentle’.  That was incredible.”

We got dressed and ran to the store.  He decided to make me a snack since my mood seemed to prevent me from making any decisions.  We bought what we needed and headed back to my place.

Crossing the dark parking lot with our bags he mentioned he didn’t think he could ever date someone who smoked.  Ok, yet another tick against me seeing as I currently smoke.  “Smoking is just something I do.  It’s not who I am.  I haven’t smoked for years.  It’s just a phase.”  He’s never criticized me before for my indulgence; this was the first I’d ever heard of it.  I felt defeated and my mood tanked some more.

Back in my kitchen he mentions that we’re dating.  I’m in no mood for these games and so I said, “We’re not dating, remember?? We’re just fucking and hanging out.”

“We’re not?”

“No.”

“But I’ve taken you on dates to redacted and redacted!”

“Yeah, so?”

“Ok, then we can start splitting the bill in the future.”

He had me there.  “Ok,” I laughed, “we’re dating!”

But really, we’re not.  Because remember, TN? I’m too old, I have a kid, and [now] I smoke.  I’m not your number 1, like you are mine.  Or maybe I am?  I have no fucking clue.  You’d just told me on our way to the store that I made you feel amazing and you were so grateful to me for that; that you hoped you made me feel as special as I did you.

I give up.  I bloody give up.  You give me so much and this must be the toll, this constant confusion.  If having a loving, warm, sweet, kind, sensual, endowed, smart, funny man in my life means I have to put up with his indecision and cat-like introverted qualities, then so be it.  You’re mine, I’m yours.  Let’s just call a spade a fucking spade and move on.  I’m doing my best to do just that.

We played poker, ate his guacamole, watched some SVU.  He sucked my tits when I lost, then he suggested we go swimming.  I said, “Sure.”

The pool deck was dark and empty and we headed straight for the hot tub.  Steam rose off its surface and the bugs chirped merrily behind the stone walls.  I slid into the heat, my back sighed, and soon I had closed the distance between us where I discovered he was wearing gym shorts.  No mesh, free cock and balls.

I slid my hand up his leg and he was hard as a rock.  I slipped it out and sucked quietly.  He threw his head back and said how much he loved it.  He grabbed my head and increased my tempo.  “You’re such a dirty little slut, aren’t you?” he said.  My answer was a whimper and a suck.  “Such a dirty, exposed little slut.  You love this.  You want to be caught.”  Again, my answer was a whimper and a suck.

I stopped and looked over my shoulder.  “There’s a nook right here,” I pointed to a hidden spot from eyes, “we could fuck, you know.”  He leaned forward off the edge and then pulled back.

“I want to, but I think I’ll have to be drunk for that!” he seemed embarrassed at his own inhibitions.  I went back to him and stood up.  He pulled my bikini top aside and let my breasts glisten under the moon- and pool light.

“They’re so beautiful,” he remarked and dipped his mouth to each in turn.  “Your skin is so hot,” he murmured against me and pulled me closer.  My belly touched his, his arm wrapped around my waist.

And then, just like that, I was done.  “You wanna go up?” he asked.

“Yeah.”

We climbed the stairs and he walked me into my foyer dripping.

“I had a really great time tonight,” he said sounding surprised and pleased.  He kissed me then walked out the door.

“Me, too,” I answered back.

17 thoughts on “I give blowjobs in hot tubs.

  1. This made me wonder about relationships and how you/we judge what our limits are? Because physical pleasure seems to saturate my reasoning abilities and thereby puts a rosy hue on everything. Physical pleasure is everything and it is nothing. … just pondering myself in the reflection of your post and your thoughts on it

    • It’s a great question. The truth is, if you can find physical satisfaction with one person, you most certainly can find it with another. Making decisions from a place of fear (of loss, of regret, of whatever) will always put us in a position of powerlessness. We have to be willing to lose something in order to gain something else.

      I’m not at the point, yet, that I need to lose TN. I’m [mostly] quite satisfied with what we have despite my confusion and occasional irritation. I don’t know if I could give more to anyone else, so this is actually highly functional for me at this point. But I broke up with someone once who said he could never fall in love with me because I knew I was ready for that. I’m not sure I’m ready for that today.

      We all have to determine our own limits and they’re different for everybody. I’m very candid about my current situation and its shortcomings, but I’m also willing to pay the price. For now.

  2. If I was an editor and this was a book, I’d tell you that you have mixed up your female characters. Hyacinth wants a relationship with TN and in this chapter instead of advancing the character’s relationships, you, the author, wrote her out of the relationship. 

    Do you realize that essentially you told him that you are only having sex with him because he is available? That with ample choice you wouldn’t choose him? That he doesn’t make the grade to date you? That you can orgasm with anyone, it doesn’t matter who it is?

    If I was TN, I’d be hurting right now, whether I showed it or not. 

    If this was a book, and the last chapter had already been published, I’d say that your female character needs to go back the next day and repair things a little. 

    Like: “Hi, I felt awful and my words came out weird, I could have hurt your feelings yesterday. 

    I’d love for us to date, but you’ve said things that eliminated me: too old, have a kid, and then yesterday, smoking. 

    I’d really like to date. I would really, really like to do more boyfriend-y things together.”

    Hyacinth, if I offended, I understand, and please administer your choice of demerit.   

    Hugs, and take care ~

    • Wow. First off, not offended at all. Second, I didn’t know that was the impression I gave. He knows I prefer him over everyone else, that I go on dates reeking of him, leave dates early to be with him. He knows that I think he’s amazing and wonderful and that he’s blindsided me with his kindess. He also knows that no one makes me orgasm (because the don’t) and they certainly don’t make me feel as good as he does.

      TN doesn’t care what I do. He’s made that abundantly clear. I can do whatever I want. He wants me to find someone else to be with, who will want me like I want him because, he says, he’s not that person.

      However, I’ll take to heart your take on things and I’ll chew on them. Certainly the last thing I want to do is misrepresent myself with him. I try to be as open and honest as possible. But I think he knows my feelings. I really do.

      Thanks for your words, Dawn 🙂

      • No one asked my opinion, but from earlier posts, I don’t think this neighbor guy is mature enough for anything beyond sex. (Nothing like backseat-driving someone else’s reltaiionship, but you seem to be okay with input from th peanut gallery.)

        • Theo, opinions are always welcome. What is it about my portrayal of him that leads you to this conclusion, I wonder? And I ask because I haven’t made such a decision consciously and therefore it’s intriguing if it’s found its way into my writing some how.

      • Whew. Good. I wouldn’t hurt you for the world. Every time I say something, I feel I am endangering that. I’m not a yes-man, so my thoughts easily run contrary to what is in vogue.

        I went back and reread it, and what you said is helpful, I got a much different understanding of your night.

        When you said chemistry, I read it as sexual chemistry = orgasms, I think you are saying you meant social chemistry.

        And this sentence: “We’re not dating, remember?? We’re just fucking and hanging out.” Reads differently this time.

        Your response to my comment reorients me. Thank you for responding and not just getting upset.

        Oh! I never commented on what you read. Unmet expectations, etc., criteria is exactly what is in my head when I read your posts. That is why I asked you all those questions the other week. When a person knows their expectations they can communicate them. I also wrote that all sorts of unconventional relationships are possible. I noticed yesterday that Pervocracy is in your reading list, so I’ll point to her last post on mono/polygamy as to the sorts of things I was thinking of. Actually, in view of your response to my comment, it sounds like TN is wanting a poly arrangement and you are also wanting that framework as well. What are your thoughts?

  3. Hy, I think maybe I should keep my thoughts to myself. it just seems throughout the blogs that the guy is putting you off, making you guess as to what he wants other than sex. This is one of the few where he seems to “act nice”, but even here, you’re thinking, “I’m too old, I have a kid, and [now] I smoke. I’m not your number 1, like you are mine. Or maybe I am? I have no fucking clue.” I know blogs can only give a piece of everything that’s going on in both of you, so maybe I’m reading too much into it.

  4. Hy. You don’t know me at all. I know a little about you. Since I’ve been following you, roughly a month, you have been writing about this neighbor. In the mid-60s, I dated at as many as 3 women at once. I eventually came to see this was grossly unfair to them. I got tired of feeling like an A**hole. Your neighbor seems to carry the playing-the-field camp too far. I think you are conflicted totally. I would not presume to understand your feelings You seem to be the giver in this one-way relationship. Does this guy ever call you and say “can I see you tonight. I’ll bring Chinese and the new Harry Potter”. .

  5. I cannot say I dislike TN because at the end of the day he does make you feel good- at least sometimes. Any person that can make a blogger friend feel better is worth something themselves. This situation however, frustrates me because I can hear the pain in your words. You say you’re going to try to move away from him, but how are you going to get over him if you keep seeing him?

    • I don’t know how to respond to this because you’re obviously catching up 🙂 I think you’ll be proud of me once you read my post from today.

      I truly appreciate your support, Mr. M.

      xx Hy

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