I fuck and laugh and cry.

I woke up lonely.

With a searing kiss still on my lips I feel the head of his cock push at my hole.  I spread my knees wider, grab his hips and guide him in.  The shaft stretches me wide, the length impales me.  We sigh together as I swivel my hips down harder on him.  I want to feel him in my goddamned throat.

“It’s been too long, Hy.  Too long,” he says urgently against my mouth and I nod agreement, kiss his neck, inhale his clean soap scent.

His cock feels like I’ve come home and tears cry from my happy cunt.  I bathe us with juices, my chest heavy and light with emotion and relief and desire.   He is incredulous.  He can’t believe I’ve  squirted less than 10 strokes in.  He has no idea the wave of feelings I’m experiencing while wrapped around his gloriousness.  He begins to move, we move together.

I have decided to be more affectionate with him like I am with Jason; throw caution to the wind and be more myself.  I tell him I’ve missed him, this.  He says he has missed me, too.  I’m elated and bear down on him with all my might, clench at him like a hand reaching to pull me back to safety as he rears back.  I can feel the tears in my face building now; I venture eye contact, but can’t hold it for long.  I switch to staring at his bow mouth, slightly open with a passionate plea unspoken.

My hands roam his muscled back and his warm haunches.  The flexing of his buttocks heightens my arousal.  A moan escapes his lips and I am more thrilled.

We are in a puddle now and I ask him to flip me over.  He chuckles.  He knows what I want.  I’m embarrassed I’m so transparent but beyond caring.  He pins my knees together with his and enters me from behind.  I raise my bottom high and push against my wall with one hand, grip my iron headboard with the other.

I am being taken.  I am being railed.  I am being.  I begin to sob and laugh as I cum again and again.  The flower is bursting in my chest the pleasure is immeasurable.  I trust him I trust him I trust him and I sob some more.

His pace increases and his hands rain down on my flank.  The sting so bright against the dark passion I’m drowning in.  I can think of nothing else to say but, “Fuck oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck!”  His baritone begins to fill the space over my head; he’s losing it and I buck back wildly as he pounds against my fleshy bottom and cums long and hard into me.  Safely protected by latex.  I wish so badly that I was being filled with his seed instead.

I get 2 seconds to catch my breath.  I’m racked with sobs.  He kisses the back of my neck and tells me how much my crying and laughing turns him on.  He begins to move again.  I am no longer in my body as he continues to turn me inside out.  Finally, he can’t go any more and he stops and drapes an arm across me while I try to piece myself back together.

His hand draws circles on my lower back.

“This is the most beautiful part on a woman’s body.  A man doesn’t have this,” and he presses above my buttocks with a warm, dry hand.

I roll over and lay in the nook of his arm, absentmindedly playing with this semi-hard penis.  We talk about why I laugh-cry.  I tell him the truth as I know it: I cry because I am overwhelmed with sensation and desire and for all the years of mourning I suffered through in my marriage; of never having felt that way with any kind of regularity.  He understands.  He says there’s nothing on this planet that turns him on more than when I do that.  I say we’re lucky then to have found each other.  He agrees.

He never stays the night, which I have decided to stop trying to figure out.  He gets up to go after many minutes of laying with me, perhaps as many as 30.  We’ve been together all night, hours.  I read his Tarot cards twice.  The second time because the outcome of the first wasn’t what he’d been hoping for.  I lied to him about the meaning of his outcome.  I omitted that it meant INCOMPATIBILITY.  I was too afraid that he had asked about me.  The Ten of Cups Reversed.  It would be hard, I told him, arguments and prejudice.  I didn’t mention the incompatibility.

His second reading said all the same things: he’s bright and clever, dependable; he has a decision to make concerning a woman, a woman who is proud and strong and revered among her friends.  He said, “What if that card is about you?”  I told him it would make me very uncomfortable.  He never told me his questions.

When I read my cards I thought about him.  The Lovers, two naked bodies entwined, was the catalyst according to the cards for my inquiry.  I blushed to my roots.  My outcome was Justice Reversed.  It means I feel like something is unjust in my life.  Do I disagree with his decision??

When I’d looked up from my reading he was fondling himself.  My satin black polka dot panties pulled down around his massive flesh.  He’d led me into my room then to take me a place where only he can these days.  He has officially replaced Troy in my sexual heart.  I am both elated and terrified.

Which is why, when he got up and put his clothes back on I walked over to him.  Naked and proud.  I kissed him tenderly, then with more demand.  His clothes rough against breasts and belly, his hands began to roam and I knew I had him for more when he rumbled how naughty I was and melted into me.

I fell to my knees and began to suck.  I pulled gently on his meaty sack and pried his ass apart just a little to press my fingertip against his anus.  His cock surged to a bigger bite in my mouth.

“Come to the bed,” he suddenly says and kicks off all his clothes, lies down on his back.  I fall onto his rod with gusto and each time he moans I wet myself some more.  I had told him his sounds heighten my own arousal.  He’s doing this for me.  I stroke counter-point against his asshole with my sucking.  He sucks in his breath, pleas with me to not change a thing, then whispers to deepthroat him when he comes.

I barely nod.  He’s close and my pussy is pulsing with blood.  His body is quivering with passion beneath my face, his cock diamond hard, then I feel his milk spurt into my mouth and his hands push my head down.  I can feel the bursts on the back of my throat as he empties into my velvety mouth.

He tastes goddamn delicious and I tell him so.  He drags me up his chest and kisses me hard with an open, hungry mouth.  “Fuck, I love your mouth.”

“I love your cock.”

The pride I feel at being the only woman on the planet to make him do that is the crown for my evening, but not his.  He grabs my vibe and tells me he wants to see me cum.  I oblige, and with his fingers buried deep inside of me my body explodes around us.

Not long after this he gets up for the final dressing and walk next door.  He kisses me again and I marvel at how handsome he is; wonder why I havent’ always seen it; know that I’m falling down a fucking rabbit hole of heartache.  At my door I tell him that I don’t have custody of my kid starting Monday.  He wiggles his eyebrows.  I also tell him that I want to celebrate my Anniversary for Passing a National Test on Tuesday.  He says that can be arranged.  At least I think that’s what he says… I honestly can’t remember for the cold was whipping at my bare feet and face and I was distracted by all my emotion and hope for a week filled with just him.

Just him.

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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14 thoughts on “I fuck and laugh and cry.
  1. Fuck Hy, your a dream. Give me a month and I would be nothing but skin and bone. I would match every ounce of my soul with an ounce of cum until I had nothing left to give.

    Sometimes life just isn’t fair.

    Be kind to yourself, Cruel

      1. Hyacinth, I’m not sure whether thats a compliment or you’re poking fun at my appaling spelling. Either way you’re still a dream and my prose is a little tidier than it was this morning.


    1. Thanks, but I’m confused. Why are you filled with concern? I get the happiness part. Either you’re seeing something I’m not or I misrepresented something. I’d love to hear your thoughts…

      1. As I tried to reply to the comment, I think I’m projecting. I couldn’t really articulate it why I was concerned for you.

        I personally have a very hard time letting my guard down because of the fear I have of abuse and being taken advantage of. So, what I see is that it was strictly me projecting.

        My apologies…

  2. I loved this post. As I was reading it, it wasn’t clear at the beginning who this was, but in my heart I had hoped it would be the neighbor, and was happy to have it turn out to be him.

  3. Beautiful and descriptive. I also always have to have a replacement in my “sexual heart,” even if it’s just in fantasy. I think your title could be “I am Alive,” as well. Fucking, laughing and crying seem like the aspects that make us the most human. There are too many dead people hanging around out there!

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