I’m here for it.

My year at a glance, 2017:

I awoke in a strange bed with a beautiful creature beside me.  I made my way to his bathroom and noticed the disarray around me.  Two old, dried contact lenses were curled in the sink.

I returned to him and he held up the covers.  He was an Adonis.  He reached for my breast and I for his cock and it was large, hot, and hard.  I remembered seeing a condom on my way to the toilet and fumbled through strewn clothing looking for it.

He rolled it on and I climbed atop, sunk down, and reveled in the feeling.  His hands cupped my breasts and I watched his washboard abs flex and bend beneath my thighs.

I increased my tempo and came, my hair soft and silky on my own skin making me feel like a goddamned goddess.  I bent forward and let him suckle as he pumped furiously into me and holding me close.

“I’ve came,” he said in his British accent.  “I’ve came…”

It’s been a couple of days and I haven’t heard from him since.

::

I held the little Styrofoam container with my leftovers gingerly in my hand that wrapped around his neck, his hand slid up my skirt like a naughty boy reaching for more cookies.

He pushed my panties aside and began banging against me just like I’d showed him in the last parking lot we’d found ourselves in an hour before.  

Pleasure burst behind my eyes and swelled through my hips as he began banging again only to end up with his face buried against the wet fabric between my thighs with cars passing by.

We may have coffee today.

::

I took his hand and led him down off the trail to the river’s edge where night-runners could no longer see us.  Pushed him back a few feet behind the pylon and fumbled with his buckle.  His maple-colored eyes glinted at me.  His girlfriend never did this kind of thing.  I wondered if he’d tell her when he got home.

I spread the denim open like a book and took out his huge hard cock.  My knees grazed the river debris as I struggled to take him in and keep my slurps to a minimum.  He struggled to keep his moans to a minimum.

He pulled me to my feet and roughly spun me around, hiked up my dress, pulled my panties to the side and pushed himself in.  I braced myself on my own knees, bent like a letter P, and he gripped my hips and plunged again and again.

He ghosted the following day.

::

I woke up sprawled sideways on a strange bed naked, a small man lay next to me, also sideways.  I got up to pee and saw our clothes strewn about the floor from the doorway to the bed.  He had straightened to lay on a pillow and I crawled in next to him.  “Did I eat you out last night?”

“I don’t think so.  You can’t remember either?”

“No.”

He climbed on top of me and I fumbled for a condom to happily discover he had Magnums.  No wonder he’d been so mad at dinner that women judged him unfairly for only being barely 5’6″.  

My hangover sucked every ounce of moisture from my body and therefore that big, juicy cock had a hard time getting in there.  He asked me if I didn’t know my body [and therefore couldn’t get wet].  I scoffed and said, “I’m fucking hungover, dude.”

We gyrated on each other for a while, his eyes closed, mine open and watchful.  I grew bored and asked him to cum on me instead.  His short thighs pinned me down as his hand whipped his cock to attention and he spurted on my chest.  He drove me home and gave me a $100 to avoid a no-show fee at the gym.

He left to watch the eclipse a few days later and is currently contemplating an old relationship.

::

He convinced me to move to my apartment from the nearly empty Cuban restaurant against my better judgment.  His eyes glowed when he looked at me and I felt like what Chicken Hawk saw when he looked at Foghorn Leghorn: 🍗🍗.  We sat on my couch and he lunged at me, his stubble like sandpaper.

“Easy, tiger,” I said.  “I have a date later.”  He laughed and grabbed my breasts, tore at my clothes.  I told him again to slow it down.

His hands were everywhere, his mouth gaping and wet and still abrasive.  I was waiting to feel something, but it never came.

“Wanna see my big dick now?”  Sure, ok.

He pulled out an average sized penis and I sighed.  Maybe it’s not fully hard.

I bent to take it in my  mouth, but it never grew just my boredom.  I stopped and he pushed my head back down.  I told him I didn’t like that.  He apologized and pulled me on his lap and raised my shirt and shoved my breasts in his mouth.  I was no longer participating at this point and shoved him off and righted my clothes.  “Isn’t it time for you to go now?” I asked pointing at my watch.

“Yeah, it is.”

He continues to beg to see me.

::

I don’t usually smoke weed, but this guy lived and died by it.  I took a little puff and waited.  I felt light and giggly.  Down right silly.  We talked on his big pleather couch while his long-haired dog tried to come to between us and cuddle.  I looked at his face covered in an unkempt beard and his head draped in fuzzy hair and wondered what he had beneath his clothes.  His profile had the word “curve” in it for a reason, I’m sure.

We kissed and his beard was too soft, too fine just like his kisses.  He took my hand and led me upstairs, pushed me down on the bed and pulled off my skirt and panties and dragged me to the edge where he knelt and dove down on me.  I told him what to do and he did it diligently, added a finger so I’d cum.

I pulled off my shirt and told him to fuck me.  He stood and undressed, put on a condom and fell on top of me.  I spread my knees and waited for the curve to curl inside of me.  He pushed in, thrust once, twice, three times and I came again.

I was a fish on his hook and his giant beard and curtain of hair couldn’t stop me from climaxing again and again from every which way until he came twice.  I’d never gotten the chance to touch him with my mouth or hands.

::

He lost his erection and slapped his errant penis.  “Fuck you!  Work!” he yelled.  I told him sex was so much more than an orgasm or penis in vagina.  “No, it’s everything,” he said.

He left 5 minutes later and I knew I’d never hear from him again.

::

We hadn’t planned on drinking two bottles of wine on a Wednesday night while his daughter slept in her room, but we did.  And when we kissed I hadn’t planned on it being so perfect.

We moved to his bedroom and peeled each other’s clothes off, reveled in the feel of each other’s skin in the dim light.  His hands molded to me as my mouth tasted him and I blew him as if judges were watching.

I asked if he had any condoms.  He said he was out.  Fuck.

And then he took his hand and gathered all the juice from my pussy he could and slathered it all over his hardon.  Well, fuck it.  No point now.

I climbed on top of him and rocked the cradle of my hips down on to him, imagining drawing a crescent from my ass to his balls and he moaned and writhed beneath me, mouth full of my breasts.  I came and came and then he began to shake and grew stiff.  He gasped for air and it never ended.  He said between gritted teeth, “I’m cumming for a minute, oh my godddddd.”

I pulled off of him and lay beside him and watched him return to his body, a gentle glow seeping back into him.  I massaged his hand until I noticed his dick was hard again.  He fucked me like a dog in heat and when he flipped me over onto my back he lasted mere seconds as I came again.

We crawled back up to the pillows and I lay in his arms.  “What are you doing Saturday night?” I asked.

We never went out again.

::

“I don’t drink, but it’s ok if you do.”

Hours and many drinks later he drove us home.  I drunkenly led him to my bedroom while he soberly participated in what I can only assume was heavy petting.

In the morning, hungover and slightly appalled at myself for trying to prove my comfort with drinking in front of an alcoholic by drinking more than usual, he began to talk.  And talk and talk and talk.  I looked for the sexy in his words but found none.  I thought maybe sex would shut him up, but it only lasted a few seconds and therefore backfired.

The next time we hung out he brought me a female condom.  We never went out again despite his assertion we’d be forever friends.

::

High with attraction and a little buzzed from the beer we kissed and fucked and rolled around.  “Do me from behind,” I said and stood up and bent over, my forearms on the bed.

He adjusted himself to my height and pushed in, fat and hard, his thumb pressed into my asshole.  I came and became wild for more, there was something about this man, this cock that I wanted to feel behind my eyes.

“Fuck me in my ass,” I said.

“I’ve never done that before.”

“Just go slow.”

He pressed and squeezed his huge girth into my backside and slowly began to fuck me as my pussy rained her pleasure down on our feet.  I couldn’t believe I was taking all of him and he was making noises I’d never heard a man make.

When he came he said it was the most intense experience of his life.

The second time we hung out we fucked awkwardly doggy style on my blue couch then moved into my room where he lost his erection.

“I’m going to run to my car to get my phone.”

He never came back.

::

“My condoms are in my car,” he said.  “Go get them.”

“No.  You go get them.”

He pressed me up against the hotel wall and said, “Call my your king.”

I laughed drunkenly.  He had no idea who he was dealing with.

::

“How long have you lived here?” I asked looking at all the boxes and children’s toys strewn everywhere.

“Three years, why?”

And when sex was done in less than 3 minutes I took my leave.

::

He reached for me in the predawn light of my room.  His hulk caused me to roll a little towards him.  I rolled onto my belly and raised my bottom for him.  He climbed atop of me, spread my cheeks and pushed in, almost perfunctorily.

The position was murder on my back, but I didn’t want to complain.  I was hoping to cum.  I didn’t, but he did.

A week later he texted to say he didn’t want to see me again.

::

I jumped up on my kitchen island and let him pull me closer to him.  We kissed and I ran my fingers through his long, Millennial hair, grabbed a handful and pulled his head back to expose his white neck.

“Are you sorry for being an idiot?”

“Yes, ma’am,” he said. “Very sorry.”

We kissed deeply and he was very good for being almost 20 years my junior.

I led him to my bedroom and once naked I admired his chiseled body, the long lines, the swells and shadows.  Wrapped up and safe, he plunged into me and I clung to his hardness like a little girl on a monkey gym.

His stamina was breathtaking and I came like a banshee until he came in a bright cry.

And then his mother called and he had to go.  He did not return as promised.

::

I let the hot tub bubbles skitter all over my body as he lifted my rear end out of the water and finger fucked the living shit out of me.  I suppose I squirted as much as the fancy fountains off the side, but it’s hard to say for sure.

Pruny and spent we moved inside where he bent me over lifted my hips to his and jammed his bare cock in me.  My feet dangled and my hands pressed against the seat of the couch.  I came a little.  He came not at all.  And then he told me he was interested in someone else.

He FedExed me my boots two days later.

 

 

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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26 thoughts on “I’m here for it.
  1. I am so sorry all these jerks have treated you so appallingly . It makes me so sad that you have been unable to find one good one out of them .I have to apologized for my fellow male kind .There are still some good men left . I hope you find one soon . Love from England 😺

    1. These were the endings of every attempted connection so they would sound bad taken altogether, but it’s just part of dating isn’t it? Failure after failure until you find the right person??

  2. I read this with ‘wow’ muttered a number of times. I haven’t replied to you for some time, but I’m a long-time reader. I’m a well experienced, highly sensuous, sexy and kinky older man.

    I can’t help but think it’s the age of these men you are with. They just can’t handle it with you, not emotionally into it, or even just sexually into it with you.
    I don’t get it.

    The way you write, the way you engage with men: I’d be all over you, all the time.
    I’ve seen your body here, read your trysts, listened to your heartaches.
    I wish I had a tenth of the action you posted here.

    You talk about the sex you engage in, your passions, your actions, and it drives me up a wall.
    I wish I had a woman like you. You hit all my marks…
    I’d keep you satiated and cumming in pure bliss, mornings, evenings, hours at a time.
    It would please me immensely.

    Those boys don’t know what they threw away.
    Those boys you played with here are complete idiots.

    1. These men ranged in age from 23 to 51, the majority in their 30s. I’m not certain it’s an age thing rather than a capacity thing and I’m not faultless. I’m a tough but to crack, I suspect. I engage warmly, but I’m intensely private. It’s why sex is so important to me: it’s how I open up. And thank you for all your kind words, truly. I’m glad to know I sound appealing to *someone*. xx Hy

  3. My experience, our society as a whole is terrified of real intimacy. My belief is that we long for it. Maybe that’s projection. There are worse things to project. Favorite scene: The Secretary- James Spader says, We can’t keep doing this. Maggie Gyllenhaal says, Why not?! I think it’s possible to have lots of yummy kinky sex with more than one partner and also have intimacy. But I guess the question is, is that what’s desired.

    1. I think you are right about the intimacy part-its more than just between the sheets. You can be intimate with a partner without being in love. I think that’s a barrier for ‘younger men’ as they can’t delineate the difference.
      I am very intimate with my women and they appreciate it.
      Yeah, it is possible to be sexy, sensuous and kinky with more than one partner and be intimate.

  4. (as gently as possible)
    As I read your review, almost the only substantive thing you mention about any of the men is their sexual performance during one or two liasons. I expect they are thinking of you in the same way, and they are certainly behaving in that manner. This might be hot if it is what you are wanting, but your blog (to me) reads sad, and longing for something else. If what you are getting is not what you want, I’d respectfully suggest requiring attributes of your men beyond just a huge, hard dick.

    1. Steve, I appreciate your note, but understand I framed this review in this way for impact. Some of these were just a tryst, the others had more going on beyond what I’ve shared. The point of this post was to illustrate my feelings in a snapshot. Most of them I invested a lot of time and effort, a couple of them I had feelings for, but this is how they all ended. And before you tell me I have done something wrong or brought this upon myself, just don’t. You don’t know the details because I haven’t shared them. I’d prefer that you trust me when I say I’ve had a sad, rough year despite my best efforts to connect with someone because that’s the truth. These men were all more than just our one (or two or three) sexual liaisons, but things stopped moving forward with all of them after we were intimate for whatever reason. Trust me, I require that men honor me and are kind above their penis which is why most of these men are no longer in my life.

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