Hyacinth feels sexy.

In about an hour I’ll be in a crowded lobby with my tits covertly pressed against The Neighbor’s arm whenever I can manage it.  He’ll look at me knowingly and lean into the softness.

Then, once in the darkened theater, he’ll spread his knees and I’ll have hot meat in my hand and a beer in the other.

I can’t fucking wait.

I have a houseboy.

He was going to vacuum my entire apartment wearing my black lace panties. I stood him in front of my dresser and laid out three pair, reached around from behind him and grasped his giant cock in my hand. “I’m going to let your cock pick which pair it wants to wear, like one of those metal detectors. It’ll let me know.”

He laughed incredulously. I was dead serious. His cock picked the middle pair.

And then he proceeded to clean my house. I took a picture and he said I had to find a way to put it on the internet. I told him I’d do my best.

The last room he cleaned was my candlelit bedroom. I’d been skipping from room to room, beaming, slightly pink from my first time in the sun this year. He’d noted I looked like a kid in a candy store. Indeed, I was.

On my bed, I languished in my tangled sheets as he moved the machine slowly back and forth. I imagined it was his cock in my sheath. Slow, steady, deep. He finished and we grabbed wine glasses and spent all of 30 seconds on the couch before he said we should go lie down for a spell.

Naturally, I acquiesced.

In my room, on his back, we laughed about what he’d just done. I stroked his bare member and pulled my dress off in one motion. I had on nothing else. I don’t remember how it came up, but I was then in my closet rummaging for my tie. “I love wearing ties,” I told him. I found it, slipped it over my head and let it dangle between my heavy breasts.

“Mmm, I like that,” he murmured.

I trailed the end along his stomach, splayed my fingers through his chest hair, licked the precum from the helmet of his cock, engulfed the rest in my hot mouth. I licked and sucked and we chatted in between his moans of pleasure. He found the tie and hauled me up and I mounted him and sank down slowly for a bounce or two before he flipped me over and pummeled my insides.

I drenched the joints of our bodies and cried out. “God, I love how your pussy feels,” he breathed into my mouth as he kissed me.

He flipped me again onto my stomach and began to rail into me, my buttocks slapped against his thighs softly. He grabbed my hair for purchase and yanked my face up out of the mattress. I gasped and cried some more. Then he grabbed the tie from behind, slipped it in my mouth and rode me like the mare in heat I was. He wailed on my flanks with one hand, held my head high with the bridle in the other. I ejaculated each time his hand met my skin.

Then he pressed my face down into the wine-colored sheets and pistoned into me some more. I rocked back and pivoted the way I know he loves. He was close, I could hear it in his pants and grunts, I clenched hard on him. Almost there, and then he slipped out and punched the bed with his cock and cried out in pain.

“Ahhhh, fuuuuck!” he lamented. “I think I half came all over your bed and broke my cock!” I lay panting on my stomach for 30 more seconds before I had a suggestion.

“Why don’t you put it back in? My pussy will make it feel better.”

He seemed to agree and he impaled me for a few minutes more.

And then we talked and laughed for two more hours. He complained about the women he kept dating. No life experience, no ambition, no direction, not intellectually interesting or stimulating. He basically was saying, “Not you, Hy,” but I’ve traversed that impasse. It was nice to hear, but my heart did not flutter like it would have days earlier. “You’re beautiful and interesting and ambitious, you’re smart as fuck and have so much life experience.” Naturally, TN, naturally. Moving on.

When he said it was time to go I helped him find his shorts and kneeled on the bed beside the candle, the tie dangled down my body. He noted how it almost reached as far as my pussy and kissed me again.

Ready for business.

We made no plans for this week deliberately. He said he hates making plans. I agreed to do it his way this time, though it’s frustrating. I also plan on fucking as much as I can this week. I don’t have any idea how often it will be with him.

Control feels good. And so do clean carpets.

I tie up my lover.

[My Tuesday night.]

He knocks at about 7:32. Nothing could have prepared me for what was going to come.

We decide to play poker. He is patient and sweet, reminding me of the goings on each deal. He feels like shit, he says. Maybe it’s food poisoning, but he’s here, so I don’t dwell on it too much. He asks if I mind that he deals each time. I say, “Not at all, why?”

“Well, some people might think I was sending a message that they weren’t any good at doing it themselves.”

“Yeah, maybe fucking insecure assholes. No, I’m happy to let you be in charge.”

And when I feel sufficiently comfortable with the rhythm of the game I ask to take over. At this point he seems to be feeling much better. I occasionally heft out a breast while I deal, he pulls out his magnificent cock, we put it all away. I pull out just one another time and he comes over and dares me to deal while he suckles on me, his whiskers lost in the pillow of my white flesh.

I tell him why I feel men are so beautiful and he leaps up and removes his shirt. “You mean you like this?” and he points at his broad shoulders and his narrow waist. I laugh and answer, yes. Pretend to be exasperated.

“Put your clothes back on for Christ’s sake. We have a game to play! By the way, I found something in my closet this weekend when I was cleaning it out. I think you’ll really like it.”

“What is it?”

“I’m not going to tell you. You’re not well and I’d rather demonstrate.”

He begs for a minute or two, but I remain firm.

My pile of chips grows as we discuss strategy. Generally, much as in life, I throw caution to the wind and play nearly any hand dealt me. It usually reaps rewards, but tonight he occasionally bluffs and I lose a significant amount. I remind myself to be cautious. How fitting.

Earlier in the night I told him that sex was not expected of him. We had a good laugh over that, but really, he wasn’t feeling well and I was happy to just hang out with him, but his mood and energy levels seemed to be improving by the hand. I am cautiously optimistic this night may not end with us clothed.

I put two cold chips on my nipples then two on his ball sack. I think I’m pretty hilarious.

And then, like a clock at midnight, it wasn’t the same anymore. Something shifted. And against his miniscule protestations he was standing before me and I was rubbing his cock, then on my knees. When I heft out his cock from his underwear I sigh and grip it lovingly, gratefully, in my hands. Memories from the night before with a smaller cock that was all wrong for me vanish.

I suck and stroke and gag myself on his erection. “Goddamn, I love your cock.”

“What do you think when you first see it?”

I search for the words. “Tonight I thought, ‘Finally.’ What do you think when I first pull it out?”


Living in the moment like I’ve decided to do to, to the fullest extent I’m possible, I’m not concerned with what’s about to happen. I am only a mouth, a body, a pair of eyes filled with cock. Pleasuring him is enough, but I am also going to follow his lead.

“You know, I could fuck you if you’re not feeling up to it. But, you said we aren’t going to have sex tonight, so I have to respect that.” I slowly stand up and go back to my seat, pick up the deck and begin to shuffle.

He stands there baffled. He’s used to me being a slave to his cock, unable to resist. He puts himself back together and sits again. We play a few more rounds and then once more his cock is in my mouth and he’s removed all of his clothes. He walks back towards my room.

“Where are you going?” I ask after him.

“Oh… just going to lie down for a little bit.” I obediently follow.

He switches on my closet light, cracks the door and lays down. His cock full and proud rests heavily on his belly. I can’t see his bellybutton.

I kneel next to his legs and begin to circle my nipples over my dress, run my hand down my belly to my crotch and lightly rub. “I’m sick,” he reminds me.

“Don’t worry, I won’t fuck you. Close your eyes if you can’t handle it.” And the second that he does I rub my hungry pubis over my dress so loudly there’s no doubt about what I’m doing.

“I can hear you.”

“Oh really?? That’s just too bad.”

He opens his eyes and watches me. I pull my dress up and move my panties to the side. I am sopping wet. He can hear the squelch on my fingers. I moan.

And then he gives the green light and says I can fuck him. This is what I was waiting for, hoping for. I rip open a golden wrapper and lay it beside him, climb on top of his legs and worship his cock with my mouth. Still in my dress I remove my panties and straddle him. The second his cock impales me my pelvis tingles and heat swiftly rises up my torso and tingles crawl up my scalp, my arms burn with heaviness.

I ride him sitting tall, leaning over and then like a jockey, my feet at his hips. I start to cry. I can’t keep going, it’s too much. I lean down and kiss his lips, his jaw, his ear and rise up off of him.

“What did you find in your closet? Tell me.”

“NO. You aren’t well enough for that and I’m not going to tell you, I want to show you.”

“Ok, then you can’t suck my cock unless you show me.” My hand, which had been fondling his mostly still erect penis, freezes.

“Oh really? Well, let me suck it while I deliberate.” And, despite what he’d have me think about being a slave to his cock, he’s as much a slave to my mouth. His hands fall to his sides and he lets me fill my mouth with him. I am trying to get him to forget about my treat, but he is tenacious.

“Now. I want to know now. Are you done deliberating?” I decide I am.

Without a word I get up and kneel at the wicker basket beside my bed and start pulling out silk scarves. One, 2, 3, 4 — where is? — ah, yes, 5.

“What are those?” he asks from the bed.

“I don’t recall you getting to ask me any questions.” I don’t know if I’ve turned into the pumpkin or Cinderella, but I’m going with it.

I secure his arms spread wide to my headboard and his feet neatly together to the footboard. As I trail the 5th bright red scarf along his body I ask him what I should do with it. He stammers a little, but comes up with some suggestions. I drag it across his face and it catches on his stubble. I growl my appreciation and let it lay over the top half of his face, nip his ears, jaw, and throat.

It suddenly occurs to me how much power I have and I bite his nipple. He exclaims and bucks up. I continue to nip down his torso to his left hip. His cock is pressed against my left cheek. I fondle and suck and grip and lick his meat. I dip down and lap his perineum. He groans and stiffens.

“You like this, TN? You like not being able to move?”

“Yes, yes. I think you can fuck me again now.”

I crawl back up to his ear and whisper, “I think I can do anything I want to you now.” I straddle his bare cock making sure it’s pressed against my belly, not my cunt.

“Yes, you could,” he answers.

“I could fuck you just like this,” and I grab his cock emphasizing the lack of protection between us. He’d told me once we’d never, ever have unprotected sex.

“Yes, that’s right.” His compliance to what I am half jokingly inferring makes my chest swell.

I begin to rub my lips on his shaft. I wait to see what his reaction will be. He moans and thrusts. I slide along more of his length reveling in the feel. I’ve never felt him this way before. I can tell he’s trying to enter me. I keep him at bay for a moment longer then guide him in.

I slowly sit back in awe. His skin against mine, inside of me, is otherworldly. We both are at a loss for words. I begin to move again. Filled with emotion and love and pride and glory. My pussy weeps on his belly and my clit sings. Down a dark corridor I can sense an orgasm waving at me. I increase my tempo but my g-spot fights for dominance and the gushing and the tingling and the heat overwhelms me and I have to stop.

I have clawed and gripped at his chest for purchase throughout this ride and so when he suggests I free his hands I do so quickly, then we free his feet. CLICK. Shit changes again and he roughly grabs my shoulders and slams me down on my back and plunges into me.

He fucks me till Tuesday and until I can barely feel him for I am so wet. I cry out every filthy word I can think of, scream his name, beg him to cum inside of me. Even his balls feel better slapping against my ass without a condom.

He flips me over onto my belly and continues to rail me. I am drenched in sweat and tears. He won’t stop. The slamming, the slapping, the sucking noises, the grunts, moans, and whimpers. My headboard creaks immodestly, occasionally my hand makes pounding noises on the wall. I don’t care about anything anymore.

He stops for a minute and asks if I could cum with him inside of me if I lay on my vibrator. I tell him I’d give it a shot. The vibrations pressed against me with the rhythm of his thrusts kick me high, so high I beg him to let me raise up on my knees. He obliges.

And with my shoulders driven into the mattress and his cock in me from behind I press the vibrator against me. I climb and climb and climb some more, that ever elusive orgasm always down that dark corridor. He knows I’m close and so stops and replaces his cock with his fingers. I respond immediately. My orgasm is closer, the hall not so dark.

I am unabashadly splayed open to him. My asshole winking at him, my cunt dripping and hot under his hand. I feel free.

I flip back onto my back and his fingers curl up inside of me. I begin to tremble violently and then the universe splits and I yell out an orgasm so big, so blinding that afterwards my teeth chatter.

He pulls me into his arms and pets my wet temple. I pant and whimper some more. And through my euphoria I am heartbroken he didn’t cum. He assures me he couldn’t care less, that it was because he wasn’t feeling well.

He kisses me and gets up, starts to put his clothes back on. I am a helpless 1000lbs on top of tangled sheets. My left knee up, my right leg down. He makes a “picture” motion with his fingers and clicks his tongue.

“Could you fall asleep right now?” he asks me.

“Um, yes. Oh my god. I can’t – I mean – um, yeah…”

I follow his lead and pull my dress back down over my head. When I stand up I am dizzy and must sit back down then I stumble drunkenly after him to the living room. I am expecting him to leave immediately but he doesn’t. He stays for a strangely long time.

As I struggle to think coherently he opens up to me. He says I’m a very genuine person. I swell at the compliment. His whole demeanor is different than ever before as we talk. He seems reluctant to leave, which is not him at all. He’s usually all too eager to take off. I sit patiently and wait.

“I don’t think you’d notice if I faded to black,” he tells me. “If you did, I’d notice, but I don’t think you’d notice at all.”

“What are you talking about?? Of course I’d notice!” I feel like I have accidentally found a treasure box of sorts. Is he saying he thinks I don’t care about him? Is this what all of this is about?? “I would definitely notice, TN. First of all, I’m trained to notice people and their behaviors, secondly, I am always reaching out to you. I would know if you were pulling away.”

“No, I don’t think so. It’d be more obvious with you. You talk a lot more,” and there is a twinkle in his eye. I’m actually flabbergasted. We’ve spent hours and hours talking and certainly not just me.

A laugh bursts out of me as I lay example after example at his talkativeness. I exclaim, “Look at you with all my friends! You’re all jibberjibberjibber!” I make a yapping hand signal and he stands up and mockingly yells at me “I’m a recluse, goddamnit! A recluse! I don’t talk!! I don’t like people!” as I shout, “You’re fucking gregarious, outgoing, charming, and a great conversationalist!” The puppy bites his ankle and our debate ends in giggles.

Finally, he’s ready to go home. I am mostly back together, but still reeling from the night. He stands expectantly in the middle of the floor and I walk over to him. I put my arms around his neck and kiss him deeply, thank him for coming over. He kisses me back and holds me close. I walk him to the door and we say goodnight.

We never discuss what just happened to us.

Hyacinth bends over.

Give it to me.

I love the freedom of not facing my partner, of being able to be as secretly expressive as I want. It releases me.

Hyacinth wakes up horny.


Nothing sexier than early morning light. I hope The Neighbor appreciates my appreciation. I sent him a couple of these just now for his morning wank.

Like a good neighbor, Hyacinth is there.

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.

Hyacinth wears jeans.


This is one of a series. Jason was the lucky recipient. I like the bright afternoon light, my curves, and the implied slide of my jeans over my hips. I believe that sexy isn’t always nude.

When I’m bored I bust out my camera.

I’m horny as fuck. The Neighbor and I had a misfire tonight and I’m left spinning my wheels and sending pics to potential new lovers instead.

And watching The Real Housewives of Atlanta. Kim sure has chilled out with that kid with a stupid name.





Hyacinth pulls up her skirt.

A quick pit stop in my mother’s bathroom

It was a lazy Sunday afternoon at my mother’s and a lover (I can’t even remember who) challenged me to show him my ass. I can never turn down a challenge…

Hyacinth lays down

Fuck this shirt.

So, I guess it’s the last HNT ever.  I’m sad to have missed all the fun.  Oh well.