I will make sure he never forgets me, Part 1: Wherein I burn images into his brain

Time machine.

We had played catch for an hour in the park, his admiration at my arm and accuracy making me swell with pride.  “Any team would be lucky to have you!” he shouted from across the green expanse.  We took water breaks under a nearby tree and he’d press the canteen’s cold exterior against my braless breast and tweak the nipple before we’d head back out under the blistering sun.  I was barefoot and felt 13 again.

When I got too hot he made me stand in the shade and throw from there while he stood in the sun.

Then it was time to pack it in and head to our movie.  Snow White and the Huntsman.  We sat in the cool, dark theater and I did my level best to not talk.  We laughed about it afterwards because when those faeries were riding the bunny rabbits I nearly lost my shit entirely.  Not to mention the discovery that hot-ass Thor was the huntsman nearly made me clap.

I told him I wanted to go swimming when we got home.  He said sure.  I was still stinging from his decline to me making us dinner that night or the next because, as he put it, on Sunday he had a softball game and if there was an opportunity for him to drink with his friends (4 am girl included) that’s what he was going to do.  But, a stiff upper lip is the name of this game.  He isn’t my boyfriend.  He is a man with whom I love to spend time with; the tiny sliver of him that I know, I love; I date and fuck and kiss other men.  I knew going in this would be complicated.  I just never knew how complicated.

At the pool, there were the resident crispy brown, pot-bellied 40-70 year old men who befriend everyone who enters their water space.  They have music, a cooler filled with liquor and a lifetime of bad jokes to share.  We played catch in the pool, our balls whizzing by a football and splashing near playing children.  He’d swim over to me and clutch my pussy from behind, in plain sight, but hidden from everyone and make me climax.  His erection huge and off-limits, he would struggle for minutes to calm it down.

The old men extended an invitation to us to go to their apartment and continue to drink and smoke, though I declined the latter.  I don’t do drugs anymore and The Neighbor never has.  TN, though, whispered in my ear he really had no interest.  “What do you want to do instead?” I asked, my breasts bobbing on the surface of the water.

“Oh, we’ll figure something out.  Let’s go take a break for dinner; do our own things, then reconvene.”

“You sure you don’t want me to make dinner?”

“Yes.  And I know whatever you make will be far better than what I can make for myself, but I need a little TN time, that’s all.”

His introverted nature demands periodic breaks from constant socializing.  Though an extrovert to the core myself, I understood and was glad that he put it plainly.

“OK.  Then let’s meet back at my place in an hour.”

Front doors shut, showers were switched on.  I washed my hair and blew it dry, put on sweet-smelling lotion.  My herb-crusted lamb chops with braised kale were no less tasty eaten alone on my balcony than they would have been with company.  At the time we were supposed to meet he called me.  “Hey, I’m gonna be another thirty minutes.  I ran to the store to get you a treat.”

With my extra time I picked up my place and lit some candles.  Suddenly an orgasm was all I could think of.  I tidied my room, set out candles and decided tonight I would tie him up again.  I tucked two ties under the covers at the foot of the bed and three more at the head.  I laid down and grabbed my vibe, Interpol playing from the other room.  It was less than 3 minutes until he was due to come over and he is strangely punctual.

I stripped off my clothes and threw back my covers exposing the expanse of wine-colored sheets.  My whiteness would make a striking scene.  I put the vibe on me and began the easy climb up; eyes closed, breath caught.  I realized suddenly that this had never happened to him before.  I wanted to take it even more memorable.

I slipped my hand under my pillow and tied a silken sash across my eyes, returned the vibrator to my pussy and waited and listened.

When I heard the knock, my heart skittered.  When I didn’t answer he pushed the door open.  The puppy whined and wriggled her greeting from her crate.  I heard him croon to her and then nothing.  I held my breath.  Still total silence.

When his mouth came crushing down on my breast I arched up into him.  The rustle of his falling pants were next and then he was beside me offering me his giant cock as I continued to pleasure myself.

I was wild with desire, but didn’t want to cum yet.  I tossed the toy aside and grabbed his meat with both hands and slaved over it like a good little slut.  That lasted only seconds before he switched positions, nestled himself at my entrance and bore down into me.  I moaned and grabbed his ass, holding him as far in as I could get him.  His thrusts started out slow, then increased in tempo.  My pussy was already dripping wet, the silk on my eyes a delicate reminder of my goal tonight: to make him never forget me, to make me his gold standard for life.

He railed into me, I began to cry out.  Our bodies moved in motion, together, but against, searching for that fight between our cock and pussy that results in victory.  The blindfold was beginning to distract me.  I wanted to see him.  I released a hand from the bars of my headboard and slipped it off.  He was staring at me.  Our eyes locked in the candlelight and I didn’t want to look away first, but had to as his cock too me to a different place.

His kisses were hot, his muscles flexed under my hands.  I shook my head in helpless desire.  I couldn’t feel my hands.  We still hadn’t said one word to each other.  And then he stopped and swung to the side, still inside of me, and handed back the vibrator.  This one was going to kill me, I knew, and it did.  I sobbed for 5 minutes after it crashed down through me.  “C’mere, sweetie,” he whispered and pulled me into his arms as my whole body shook and tears streamed down to pool behind my ears.

[Part 2]

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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6 thoughts on “I will make sure he never forgets me, Part 1: Wherein I burn images into his brain
  1. We ARE on the same wavelength – I haven’t wanted to post a story because it The End. It was going to be too long so I broke in two – just like you did! I’ve been keeping that to myself. I think you’ll understand how posting releases but also removes. I’m not ready to let go yet.

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