A man spends the night.

He was my date to a wedding last night. We spent the afternoon Friday shopping. He laid down almost $1500 in new dapper clothes. He looks so grown up now. It nearly made me cry.

Things happened, I did the best I could. She was interested. I stepped aside. He followed me. Sat next to me, whispered that he wanted to fuck me. I was beautiful.

Then we went out, played bar games with a friend and his girlfriend — someone I hadn’t seen in years. He cut the night short because he was done waiting. He wanted to be inside of me now.

His cock was huge in my mouth; car windows down. My lips caught repeatedly on the rim of the head. A delicious and well deserved treat on a warm summer night.

Home, we took care of the puppy, then each other. I hurt him as he impaled me. I was wild with desire, I wanted to pull him through me, to me.  He crooned his oks, I stammered my apologies.

When we were done, he was going to leave, but this time I asked him to stay. “Please, TN, please stay with me,” I said softly, stroking his face.

“Ok,” he answered.

I snuggled close and wrapped my hand around his shaft. Fell asleep holding him. Something I haven’t been able to do in years, one of my favorite things.

I woke up a few hours later, draped my arm across his stomach and my wrist bumped into something hot and hard near his belly button. I pushed the covers back to see a raging erection resting innocently on his belly.

I bent to take him in my mouth. He didn’t stir. I gripped and stroked, moved to kneel between his legs. Still, his eyes remained heavily shut.

I sucked harder, tugged on his pillowy sac, moaned a little. He jerked slightly, stretched beneath me like a cat in a sunbeam and pushed his hips towards my face. He smiled now as I climbed up on top of him and slid down the length of his cock.

I split myself in two, whimpered as I rocked on him. His warm hands gripped my waist, my tits. The bed creaked shamelessly. His pelvis became slick with my wetness as my body released itself on him.

I rolled off and over. I told him thank you. He thanked me, moved closer, slipped his cock inside of me from behind: my security cock, his security pussy. We drifted off to sleep connected, but not.

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.

You Might Also Like

28 thoughts on “A man spends the night.
    1. Last night/this morning was a dream come true. I love waking up, rolling over, and having my lover there. Being single and in my situation robs me of the opportunity. It’s something I truly love.

      1. Amazing how, given all the debauchery, lust, perversions, etc all of us “cellar bloggers” share that its something as morning light and something warm, squirmy and stretching off the rigor of sleep that makes us all swoon.

        Its moments like this that inspired my “Morning Hues” erotic poem to Leigh

        1. You’re so right, Scot. For me it’s more than the sex, it’s what it means to me to have invited someone to stay. I never do that — I want them to leave immediately usually — and TN always leaves, though I don’t want him to. Last night was special.

  1. This makes me sweetly sad, Hy. I’m happy for you <3 i mentioned to you before that I have a similar situation with my neighbor.Iit's felt different lately, and I don't want it to go away. I also know if it was often though, it would become routine and I don't want t hat either. Ahhhh, for the thrill of the security cock. Muah!! Have a great day.

    1. It makes me sweetly sad, too. I wish he loved me back.

      Hang in there with your neighbor! And frequent doesn’t equal routine!! Get after it if you can! Hehe

  2. This is a great post. When the relationship is over, this will be one of my favorite “memories.” Another enduring favorite is when you slipped bacon in his mouth and gave oral cock worship. It is a gift you have given us, that you have shared what you have, and I appreciate it very much. Such small words, they can’t incompass what I feel. Thank you, Hyacinth.

      1. Humbled? You have also been tumbled, pummeled, and tunneled. I’m wistful for me, and so happy for you.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

CommentLuv badge

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.