Maybe I don’t need giant dick after all.

He glowed above me, slick with sweat.  The light from the hall cast a softness along the long lines of his naked body.  His dog tags swung in my face and I took them gently between my teeth and moaned as he plunged into me ruthlessly.

It all began last week when I checked into my Adult Friend Finder email.  He’d written me the last couple of weeks of August, but I had been MIA.  Friendly and humble, his note warranted a response.

“Hey!” he wrote back.  “I was about to give up on this whole site and shut it down!  I’m so glad you wrote me!”

We emailed a few times and jumped to text to exchange face pics.  Neither one of us could believe why the other was on AFF.  His dark blond hair was cropped military short, his face dusted with golden 5 o’clock shadow.  Then he sent pics in his fatigues at work, suited up for flying.  I died.

I’m used to dating engineers and programmers, men with soft hands and clear minds, not men trained for battle with memories of lost friends.  I know soldiers and they are a sensitive lot; our politics and outlook on cultural differences often clash and so we avoid those tender topics.  I am sensitive to their situations, but they typically don’t want me to be.  Must soldier on, and all that.  How would this man and I mesh?

He flirted and teased me throughout the day and I called him on a whim after drinks with a friend.  His thick, southern accent dripped through the phone and he had me in stitches.

Quick as lightening, sharp as a tack we played off one another until I reached my next destination.  I had to go.   Later, I checked my phone and he had sent me a beautiful image of his artful body replete with erection.

He asked if he met my criteria I think not really caring about my answer.

I’d asked earlier in the day if he wore Magnums to which he’d coyly replied that he wore whatever was available.  I’ve heard that answer before and was worried, but his charm and my curiosity convinced me to brush my Size Queen snobbery to the side.

I texted back that I wished I was wrapped up around him at that very moment.  God, how I wished I was.

On my way home I snapped a pic.  My hair hung shiny and blonde around my breasts; my eyes shone blue and my smile seemed to belie something.  I called him on the way home at 1 and left a message, nervous and silly.  He would tell me later that I was cute at 1 am.  The next morning we decided to meet up during the one hour we might have available.

There’s something about chemistry that can’t be underestimated.  When it’s not there it can be devastating.  When it is there, it’s equally as devastating.  It’s the roller coaster of promise, feared loss, excitement of the blitz of energy when two souls touch when moments before they were complete strangers.  Atoms touching, magic happening.

We arrived at the coffee-house simultaneously and I waited for him to get out of his truck.  He was tall, over 6’2″ with his boots on, covered in camouflage from head to foot.  My breath caught.  Holy shit, he was hotter in real life.

He smiled and stooped to hug me and we walked comfortably side by side to a table.  The next hour flew by.  I avoided those topics I imagined we might clash over and instead focused on the things we had in common: he has two kids full-time every weekday, he works full-time, he goes to school, sometimes the military gives him weekend assignments.  The man is as busy as I am, possibly busier.

There was a strength about him, an ease that I immediately gravitated to, and as we walked back to our cars I almost took his hand.  It seemed so natural.  We talked about when we could hang out again and when I felt the time pressing on my back I said, “So, are you going to kiss me, or what?”

“When I get there, I will,” he drawled back and laughed.

He closed the small gap between us and pressed his lips to mine.  I tasted his breath and breathed against him as he pulled me closer.  I gripped his belt and opened my kiss.  It felt like I’d been there before, so familiar, yet new all at once.

The kiss lasted longer than I expected and when we broke apart we smiled like idiots.  I drove off to pick up Peyton from school with a grin plastered to my face.

Throughout the next day we texted and he sent me a picture of a helicopter in the sky carrying a military vehicle.  “Those are my feet hanging out!” the text read as I sat in my cushy office chair.  I couldn’t wait to see him later.

We met at a local dive bar at 9.  I took a Lyft and was right on time.  He was at the far end of the bar and didn’t recognize me when I first walked in, but his eyes lit up as I came to him.  He wore a dark grey shirt and jeans with a belt.  His arms, wrapped in tattoos, opened to hug me.

I stood there between his knees for the better part of an hour.  He stole kisses and left his hand on my waist.  I shook my head when he wasn’t looking trying to process our easy connection; it felt like I’d known him forever.

I challenged him to pool and got my ass kicked, though I won each time he kissed me or pulled me against him in full view of anyone caring to look.  My short skirt rode up when he held me and his eyes were hot on my cleavage when we were apart.  We moved to a booth and opened up a little more about our lives, our failed marriages and relationships, our kids, bullshit, etc. until I suggested we go back to my place “to chill some more.”  I am nothing if not suave.

At my apartment he cracked open a new beer and I poured myself some wine and we decided to play some dominoes.  The atmosphere was relaxed, but charged, and when he complained about being a little warm I told him to take off his shirt.  And so he did.

He sat on my couch, dog tags hung from his neck, shirtless with a big, black watch on his left wrist resting on his knees.  I told him to hold still and took a headless picture of him.  “Fuck, you’re hot,” I said.  “I gotta send this to my girlfriend.”  He laughed and said that was fine with him.

I lost at dominoes, too, and he asked if I wanted to save the score sheet.  I thought about the last score card I squirreled away to the box under my bed and told him I did.

And then, the games were over.

I climbed up onto his lap and we kissed, two old souls meeting once again.  His hands roamed up my shirt and found the breasts I’d freed from my bra earlier.  He directed a nipple to his mouth and I inhaled sharply as he sucked fiercely.  A delicious shot of pain went through me.  I didn’t have to ask him to suck harder.  It was just perfect.

He ripped my clothes off and I straddled him in only my black panties, I clung to his warm chest as I smashed my breasts into his face.  His lashes touched his cheeks, lost in my softness, his mouth full.

He picked me up and set me on the ground and led me around the corner to my room and roughly flung me across the bed.  I heard his belt buckle jangle and his hand searching a pocket.  The jeans fell to the floor with a rumpled thud.

He grabbed me by the backs of my knees and hauled my ass to the edge of the bed and lapped at me softly.  His hands disappeared for a moment below the edge of the bed while his mouth kissed my open pussy and when he stood up he was wearing a condom.  I told him it was an advanced and impressive move as he lifted me up and onto his jutting cock.

I had wondered if I could feel him, warned him that I got too wet and lost average sized men, that men accused me of being too intimidating, working too hard, blah blah blah.  He’d stubbornly refused to believe any of that would happen to him and he was right.

He was hard as steel as he pushed into my body and filled me to the motherfucking brim.

I blinked, confused.  He’s not a small man by any means, quite above average, but in all my experience up to that very moment he entered me, only exceptionally large men could make me shiver around them like I was at that moment.

He pumped into me less than a handful of times and I came immediately.  He growled into my ear and lifted me up and away from the edge.

We kissed, animals in the night tangled together desperate for release, and clung to one another in a complete fucking frenzy.   He bit, we laughed, I clawed, we kissed.

I cried out again and again and he moaned with pleasure as I ejaculated against our slamming bodies in as many positions as humanly imaginable.

He pulled out, grabbed his shaft and rubbed the head of his cock all over my slit and a fountain broke loose with my cries.  He growled like a beast as I writhed below him.  I began to whimper and tried to stop the sobs.  I felt shy in my abandon and my soaking wet mess.  I begged him to stop.  I begged him to fuck me.  I just begged.

Incoherently I apologized for being too wet, but miraculously I could still feel every hot, hard inch of him.  He hushed me and braced his long arms on either side of me as I gripped the foot board with one hand, hanging on for dear life, and rammed myself against him wildly desperate for more.

He glowed above me, slick with sweat.  The light from the hall cast a softness along the long lines of his naked body.  His dog tags swung in my face and I took them gently between my teeth and moaned as he plunged into me ruthlessly.

I tugged a little then released them and threaded the chains through my fingers and held them up against his collar-bone, tightened them a little and thought what a beautiful creature this man was.

His sweat dripped down onto me as I came again and cried out.  He came with a series of punishing thrusts and one long push deep inside of me and collapsed panting on top of me.

I saw stars, purple swirls, and couldn’t feel my hands.  I hauled myself up and got towels to put on top of all the wet spots.  He laid on my pillows, his arms over his head.  I crawled up to him and lay in his nook, my heart still pounding.

I traced my hand along his wet body and over the tops of his thighs.  His cock stirred and I touched it lightly.  It swelled.

I smiled against his skin and pushed myself away and straddled him briefly before sliding between his legs.  His cock was rock hard again when I kissed his upper thighs.  The scents of latex and pussy disappeared into my mouth.  I sucked and stroked and impaled my face on him refusing to gag as he went deep into my throat.

He grunted and pushed me off of him onto my back and he straddled my chest.  He grabbed my breasts and pushed them together.  I held them there as he slid in and out of my double-Ds.  I’d never been titty-fucked before.  He was surprised.  “With these gorgeous things?”  He squeezed me and his tempo increased and I lifted my head to lick the tip each time it peaked out of the tunnel of my tits.

He lifted a knee and rested a foot beside me and began to jerk off.  His hand a dark blur, his balls bounced.  I said silky, nasty things until he grabbed my head, plunged into my face and came hotly down my throat.

His cum was tart and not unpleasant, all soldier.

We laid down and wrapped our arms around each other and dozed for half an hour until the cat decided to walk all over us, particularly his flaccid, exposed member.  Fucking cat.

I got up to kick him out, but when I turned around my new friend was up and putting on his clothes.

I surprised myself and said, “You can stay.”  I had never offered that to a man, but I imagined  sex awash in the morning light and more laughing and biting and orgasms.  I wanted that very much.

“I can’t,” he said.  “I won’t be able to sleep and I feel weird with pics of your baby everywhere, like I shouldn’t be here.”  I said that was too bad, but I understood.  His sex and single-parenthood is much newer than mine.

He sat with me on the balcony as I smoked a cigarette wrapped in my robe – my attempt to prolong a magic evening with a magic man.

When I was done I sat on his lap and kissed him on his scruffy cheek. He patted my thigh and told me he had to go.  It was nearly 3 am.

We made very tentative plans to see each other the next night.

I walked him to the door and we hugged again and said goodbye.

We didn’t see each other Saturday after all despite wanting too, but hopefully it will be in the cards some time soon.

We’ve texted every day and he sends me pictures of his glorious body and of his day up in the sky and I reciprocate.  He shares kindnesses, something I’m not at all used to from a man I’ve slept with.  Saturday morning I awoke in a panic not knowing what I should say or do, but I shouldn’t have worried.  He was warm and still there.

It’s complicated from a logistical standpoint to be much more than sexual partners with him, but I’m not going to add more men to my life to fill in the gaps.  It will be just him until it isn’t.

I’m doing life differently.  Having many who care nothing about me is painful and exhausting.  I have a tendency to clamor for people’s love and attention instead of peacefully walking my path and allowing people to come to me when they want to.   It’s a new outlook on all my relationships, not just the sexual and romantic ones.  He’s the first one to get the new Hy.

Everyone, meet The Soldier.  The man who changed things as they were already changing.

 

 

 

 

A 40-something single mother who writes honestly about sex, body image, D/s, relationships, her nervous tics, and how much she loves to fucking fuck. She also likes to show you her tits.

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56 thoughts on “Maybe I don’t need giant dick after all.
    1. Cara, I am tentatively hopeful myself, but you’ve been with me every step of the way and know how things usually work out. The difference this time is me. And maybe him. Who knows?

  1. I’m doing life differently. This is where I got choked up.

    I’ve been doing some reading lately and I ran across some interesting ideas that made me think of you. As it happens, those ideas (along with other thoughts I’d had before) fit neatly with your new approach. I have a good feeling about this, Hy.
    Sex Is My New Hobby (Zoë) recently posted…Sinful Sunday: party dressMy Profile

    1. I really am. A lot happened to me this summer and I am no longer chasing people. I am walking my path with my baby, that’s all I care about and needs caring for.

      What ideas did you run across?? I’m curious! xx Hy

      1. I’ve been reading about adult attachment styles (anxious, avoidant, secure). The book I’m reading explains the attachment styles clearly, and sets out the patterns of behavior so you can identify when different styles connect or clash – e.g. anxious and avoidant are often drawn to each other even though it’s a recipe for unhappiness. The book sets out the typical mistakes in thinking that the different types typically make, and explains what to look for so you can find someone who is complementary and will provide what you need (rather than giving up on yourself as “broken”).

        The book is self-help-y, but I quite like it despite that :-) Turns out I’m not the type that I thought, and it’s helped me make sense of past and current dynamics.

        Attached, by Amir Levine & Rachel Heller. (Complete citation on the reading list page on my blog.)
        Sex Is My New Hobby (Zoë) recently posted…Sinful Sunday: party dressMy Profile

        1. Oh right! I’ve been hearing about that book from all sorts of different places lately. I’m also familiar with the attachment types because he did a lot of work with his therapist based on attachment (he bought the handbook!). TN was avoidant and I was anxious (big shock there). But you’re right, it’s helpful to know your foundation. God knows I don’t want to keep making the same mistakes over and over.

  2. Yippee!!!! My wish for you came true!!!! I wished that you would meet a sweet guy, that’s sexy, smart, caring, hot, and would rock your world!!!
    PS.. My Dom lover of 2 years now is a soldier, and yes they are a whole different breed of men.

  3. I think this is my favorite post of yours! No matter what happens with the Soldier, that was a night to remember. And a night to remind you that you never know what (or who) might be coming around the corner to brighten your life.

    1. Wow, really, Holly?? Thanks! That’s so nice of you to say!

      Re: The Soldier, yes, it was a wonderful night I’ll never forget. He’s been a breath of fresh air this past week. :)

  4. I can’t even begin to tell you how happy I was reading this. I couldn’t put it down!

    It’s wonderful that you found someone with whom you had such good chemistry, such good times, such good… everything!

    It’s impressive, that feeling of never having enough, isn’t it?
    I hope time keeps telling a good tale.

    But, like Zoë, I particularly like this new approach to life :-)

    Sending hugs because between you andAnn, I feel like jumping up and down, and at least I hope hugs would help keep me grounded!
    Dawn D recently posted…IntensityMy Profile

    1. Thanks, Dawn! And it was a long one! I worried I might bore everyone to sleep! lol

      And yes, he’s a nice fella. Time will tell. Can’t get ahead of myself, of course. He could disappear next week or I could need to go back into my cave and lick my wounds. One never knows!

      I’ll take all the hugs and give some right back. xx Hy

  5. For the longest time I’ve wanted to challenge you on your opinions around pleasure and penis size. I certain agree that anatomically people must be able to “fit” as it makes a sexual engagement easier or fun, but it is my belief that pleasure is 100% derived from chemistry.
    I think we have been “trained” by modern society to vibrator, thrust, stretch, pound our way to pleasure when really we should be exchanhing energy, having conscious touch and tenderly sharing intimacy. This is not to say you can’t be intimate and have a sweaty hard fuck… But I think too easily modern society over looks the importance of chemistry for our perceived notion of the ideal physical shape.

        1. Haha there is… Sorry – typing on my phone (pontificating on my phone?)… I meant to say “I’d also like to follow this up..”

          1. I’d love to be able to show him to you! But that’s a long shot. He’d have to give his consent, first, and there are a lot of hurdles that must happen before that! :)

    1. I find this interesting because I was very clear about why I like really big penises. My whole point was that it had little to do with chemistry. I could have all the buzz in the world with a man, but if we don’t fit right physically, then it doesn’t do anything for me emotionally and possibly even physically.

      My night with this wonderful fella didn’t prove that wrong, it just showed me that there is some wiggle room for my personal excitement. He’s not small, or even average. He’s big, just not massive like TN was.

      Remember when I wrote about me being a shitty lover?? That man was slightly longer than average, but more slender than I need, but I came lots anyway because he was a skilled lover and I appreciated his attention. I don’t at all equate penis size with skill or enjoyment, but I do equate it with what titillates me and it’s the big ones that get me the most excited.

      1. Yeah, look I totally understand – and agree with your point about the “physical fit”… I guess there are two things I would like to pick apart here..

        1) what would you say is the female equivalent? And how would that perspective change your mindset? For example, a guy saying he is only ever able to be satisfied with a woman with really large breasts. Over a certain size or nothing at all? That he can’t cum with a woman unless she has large breasts.

        2) how much did TNs penis protract you moving towards a space that you knew was the inevitable? How deeply did your lust or his appendage effect you facing the truth and ultimately moving on? ( I’m not trying to minimize your entire relationship to his penis, but I’m trying to draw on a point here so please excuse me if it seems like I am)…

        I guess what I am trying to argue is that this notion that penis size leads to pleasure, emotion and physician connection, satisfaction etc etc, is not only somewhat restrictive but also in so many ways undermines your standing as an intelligent, capable and worldly woman. Sure, you are liberated and strong and independent and know what you want and aren’t afraid to ask for it… But just be careful that in the process of demanding that you not be objectified you don’t end up doing it to others.

        PS, I say all this with the deepest low and respect. I have followed your writing for many years now and truly adore your writing!

        1. I meant to respond last week, but time got away from me. I’ve addressed this in my I love big dicks and I cannot lie post, but I’ll say it again about #1: we are all allowed to have our physical preferences. I am not hurt because a man doesn’t like the way I look or what my attributes are (or are not). I am not petite, for example, nor am I tall. My tits are big and they hang low, maybe some guy prefers really pert ones or fake ones. I’m ok with that. Does he prefer a thigh gap? Ok, then, have it. It’s not me and I don’t care if I’m not selected based on physical features because he gets to seek his jam, just like I do. The way I look isn’t connected to my character, so it isn’t a personal blow.

          To speak to #2, I’m sure you’ve heard the phrase, “Good dick will ruin you.” Well, it’s true and you might be right to some degree. I was certainly hooked on our chemistry (not just his giant cock).

          I disagree with you that my penis size preference undermines my standing as an intelligent person. I never said I wouldn’t fuck a man with a normal sized penis, what I’m saying is men with huge cocks really turn me on AND feel exceptionally good to me. And in my experience, men with average sized, to smaller penises, elicit a different physical and emotional response from me. I never purport that they could never bring me pleasure, just that large dicks really, really do it for me. I’ve cum lots with men who aren’t hung like donkeys lol.

          Lastly, I’ve never demanded to not be objectified. I put myself out there to be objectified nearly every day via IG and this blog. In real life, I am a whole person, not just parts, and my partners treat me as such within the context of whatever our relationship might be (sometimes, I’m objectified then, too, but so are they; it’s mutual!).

          I have taken all your recent notes in the vein of respect and love and I hope my responses have been received in kind! I love that you’ve come out of the Sea of Lurkers to talk to me!

  6. As much as I enjoyed reading this post, the best part was seeing in your words that you ARE changing! No longer being what another wants you to be, and being who you have come to be has to be SO satisfying! I hope one day soon The Soldier will really appreciate the Brand New Hy!

    1. The Soldier may or may not, who knows? But is it all that important? Real change is about how I feel about me, not how some man reacts to me, right? Though, of course it’d be awesome if he was different from all the rest. I’m sure tired as fuck of all that nonsense.

  7. Congrats on the new approach! I loved this post. I can’t wait to read more about the Soldier. He sounds yummy. I think when you relax and let things come to you, life will flow more smoothly. Sometimes you have to grab the bull by the horns, but, for you, I think you are raking the right approach.
    MaggieMayat50 recently posted…Wildfire – Part 2My Profile

  8. Hey, Hy, this one made me smile — I’m truly happy for you,
    the first Great Adventure of The New Hy! Sticking with one to
    see where it goes, instead of stuffing yourself with multiple randoms
    for the sake of satisfying a hunger… I feel this bodes well for a much
    more “rounded” heart-experience, even if some pain is part of the
    overall package — much as breakups are inevitable, a greater focus on
    the Positives of a “more-involved relationship” with some legs to it
    should, hopefully, bring your net happiness back out of the red and
    into the black once more.
    Soldier reads like a decent bloke — respectful, yet adventurous, at the
    right moments; I wish you much happiness in the “for now” of it,
    and that it lasts as long as you’re (both) happy for it to do so.

    A definite upswing in the graph of The Life of Hy! :D
    Cx..

    1. Well, “sticking with one to see where it goes” is overstating it a little. I’m just not going to complicate my life with another phone number in my cell. lol I am serious when I say he and I seem to have little future together; our logistics are a nightmare to navigate. But, perhaps we will be able to forge a decent friendship! xx

      1. Thank you, Hy, for your reply. :)
        Fully understand – logistical nightmare is inconvenient / unfortunate, though, as you say, there’s good potential for a new friendship.

        Who knows.. Maybe he knows someone who might suit you AND lives closer..? :D
        Maybe similarly built, even..?!?
        :p

        Wishing you all the very best in your ongoing search for Love, dear Hy. Just remember:
        Sometimes ya gotta “stop searching” long enough to “just be you” and allow yourself to “be found”! ;)
        Blessings xx

  9. Welcome Soldier! You’re ‘doing life differently’ now Hy & it makes perfect sense, right now. You’ve had to get through the pain of before to get to ‘doing life differently’. This is the corner that’s been on the map the whole time to turn. Hy & I wish you all the best, sweet sexy Hy & The Soldier, smokin’! All the best Hy. 😍

  10. This: “The man who changed things as they were already changing.”

    In light of the new paradigm shift, perhaps it is more apt to say: The man who affirmed the changes that I was/ am making.

    After all, it’s you, Hy, not him; he just enters into whatever permissions you grant. It’s so hard to shift allegiances from outside yourself to inside yourself… they happen in small but vital ways. Your journey inspires mine, thank you.

    What a way to begin anew… just, lovely.

    Lola xo

  11. Hy…. I loved this so much! I could feel you every step of the way and he sounds glorious and a good stable man… and one hell of a lover! Gold girl! I’m hoping for a good outcome with this…but in the mean time… enjoy the ride… he’s worth investing the time!

    ~ Vista
    vicvista recently posted…Marked – Claimed – OwnedMy Profile

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