Clearly I don’t know how to work my blog thing-a-ma-jiggy.

So sorry about all the notices, Internet Boyfriend! I’ve been thinking about it for months now, but I’m ready to have TN back on my blog in the way in which he originally appeared.

I deleted the TN Tuesday category, for example — it was too painful to see — and I guess there were some others I decided to take down for one reason or another, but I’m much stronger now and so far on the other side of my heart break I want those moments and feelings back in the fold.

For those new readers here, The Neighbor and I ended a year ago; those posts you’re seeing now are old ones.

Ok, now I’m going to try and write some new content before I have to make dinner for Peyton.



He watches me go.

The sun warmed my back as I climbed the three sets of stairs to The Neighbor’s door.  It was barely 8 am and the morning chill was already beginning to fade.  I slipped my key into the lock and turned the handle.  He’d left the deadbolt unlocked for me.

I stole into his quiet space, kicked his shoes out of the way of the door and crept quietly across the apartment to his bedroom doorway.  He lay tangled in his comforter, the ceiling fan whirred overhead.

I set my purse and keys down and cringed when they jingled.  He didn’t stir.  My zipper sounded like a roar as I undid my jeans; I quickly kicked off my shoes, followed by my cheap Target Harvard sweatshirt and climbed into bed with him.  He continued to slumber.

I pressed my cold skin against his back and let his round ass fill out the cradle of my pelvis.  He was a warm cloud and I clung to him and breathed him in, his entire backside pressed against me.

“Good morning, Hy,” he said to the window filling with light.

“Good morning, TN,” I whispered into his neck.

I stroked and scratched him and he stretched and purred, climbing his way out of a Lunesta haze.  I pulled him over onto his back and grabbed his giant morning wood and began to gently pump it as it pulsed and flexed in my grip.

We didn’t say much; I let the silence wrap around me as I gently lured him to greater consciousness.  I knelt between his knees and took him in my mouth.  Soft, wet pulling.  Soft, sweet moans.  I kept at him imagining my greatest morning hope of his release into my mouth, but he stopped me and roughly grabbed my shoulders and pressed me down into the mattress.

“You are the best alarm clock ever,” he said, his gaze intense.

He was wide awake now.

I spread my knees and he plunged into me.  Our eyes locked on one another like long lost lovers.  No sentiment, just hunger.

He moved in me and I closed my eyes, felt him fill me to the brink. “God I fucking love your cock,” I moaned.

He pumped and ground and rode me like the little morning whore that I was.  He curled into me and growled and I held on for dear life, then my ankles went up to his shoulders.  Orgasm burst through me and I shook my head from side to side in desperate protest.  A tear slipped out and ran down my cheek.

He stopped and I lay panting.  He looked at me for a moment then lay to my side and put my legs over his hips.  He was buried deep inside of me.  “Use the *Doxy,” he said gently with a lift of his chin to the British magic wand that lay beside me.

“We haven’t done this in a while,” he added.  It’s been almost a year since my Hitachi died.

I punched the On button and adjusted the speed to the middle setting and thought about Goldilocks and all her choices.  I pulled the comforter between me and the buzzing head and instantly blasted off, my pussy stuffed full of his rock hard cock.

He thrust, just enough, and with each penetration I climbed higher until I fell off the fucking mountain with a yell and many expletives.

“Again,” he said the instant I landed.

I felt like saying, “Ok, Coach!” but only nodded instead and started the climb.

But two wasn’t enough for him, no, he coaxed 3 more from me.  By the fifth, I was trembling, damp with sweat.  His cock was as hard as ever, his hands filled with breast.  I dropped the speed down to the gentlest and let my clit meet the challenge with less intensity.

His body nudged mine with a rhythm matching that of his alarm clock.  In the past, fucking to his alarm reduced us to giggles.  Not that morning.  I ignored it and concentrated on the pulsing in my hole, the stretch and swell, and came with a boom a fifth and final time.

I hung on his cock, limp and satiated.

I turned to look at him, the treetops in the window a bright green.  “And here I thought I was just going to give you a blowjob this morning; I had no idea I was gonna get some morning sex!”

He grinned and looked at his phone.  “I really have to get up now.  I have to be at work in 20 minutes.”

He pulled out and left the room for a minute.  I laid in his bed feeling motherfucking lucky.

He came back in and helped me up and watched me as I got dressed.  At his door, still nude, he gave me a kiss and a hug and I walked out into the bright morning light.  When I turned around he was standing in his doorway.

The bright sun reflecting off the building nearly blinded me and I could only make out the dusky pink cock that hung like ripe fruit between his muscular thighs,  his white body glowed from the shadows behind him.

I’m lucky.

I could tell he was smiling at me, watching me watch him.

“You’re beautiful,” I called as I started walking down out of sight.  “And you can do that every time I leave in the morning!”

And he has.


[Ed. note: TN Tuesdays is a semi weekly meme which will share more of The Neighbor with my Internet Boyfriend.  All photos have his approval before I post them.  As always, he’s eager to see what you guys think and has requested that I share any comments.]



 *Doxy post coming soon!

My houseboy does the dishes for me.

We laid in the dark, my birthday-Hitachi switched off beside me, Faisal purred on his chest.  “Thank you, Hy, for dinner tonight.  It was absolutely delicious.”

I rolled over, still in my orgasm hug, and kissed him full on his bearded mouth. “Thank you for letting me cook for you.”  We smiled at each other in the dark and I rest in his nook and played with his feather-soft chest hair.

I could have added many other Thank Yous:

  • Thank you for interrupting my blogging with your big, giant hardon and reminding me what’s most important.
  • Thank you for letting me push you down on my bed in my dark room and slipping you out of your underwear.
  • Thank you for letting me suck your big, fat cock.
  • Thank you for telling me how much you’ve missed my magical mouth and thank you for letting me sit silhouetted at your side and cradle your balls in my hand.
  • Thank you for flipping me on my back and shoving yourself inside of me, of rocking into me until I panted and cried out.
  • Thank you for sucking on my nipples, telling me to twist and grab them.
  • Thank you for getting my wand and growling deep in your throat as I writhed and moaned and cussed for lack of actual words.
  • Thank you for being a part of orgasm after orgasm.
  • Thank you for stroking my brow and kissing me like I’m someone special.
  • Thank you for being my muse.
  • And thank you for doing the dishes.
And for letting me take this amazing picture.
And for letting me take this amazing picture.

[Ed. note: TN Tuesdays is a semi weekly meme which will share more of The Neighbor with my Internet BoyfriendAll photos have his approval before I post them.  As always, he’s eager to see what you guys think and has requested that I share any comments.]


I take a pic of him in the shower.

TN showering his hot bod
The Neighbor.

The Neighbor is a bold man, brave, loyal, and fierce.  He’s protective of my person and my people and he has a near zero-tolerance policy when it comes to betrayal.  He’s tough as nails.  A complete hard ass.  The toughest nut to crack I’ve ever known.  A true Cancer with his impervious outer shell and painfully soft insides.

And he’s beautiful, so beautiful.

The lines of his body are artful, yet utilitarian.  He doesn’t look like Michelangelo’s David, but if I had the skill I would carve marble of him for all to see what I see.  His symmetry, his densely muscled limbs, his compact virility, his cock, his bow-shaped mouth and pale blue eyes.

His male beauty is a departure from that image that leaps to our minds — cut, hairless, tall, thick-maned — but it is irrefutable nonetheless.  He walks with a slight bounce, his round ass pert beneath his denim, and his arms swing easily as though he were all alone.

I’d like to take all the credit, for having a good eye, but we are all only as magical as our muse.

TN looked surprised when I showed him this image I’d captured of him in the shower.  I’m certain he never saw himself this way, but it’s still him.  It’s still real.  It’s still beautiful and no matter what he sees, I see a David.


[Ed. note: TN Tuesdays is a semi weekly meme which will share more of The Neighbor with my Internet BoyfriendAll photos have his approval before I post them.  As always, he’s eager to see what you guys think and has requested that I share any comments.]



He’s funny and he’s hot.

The Neighbor and I have been on twinkle toes of late; the weight is gone and the heart is wide open.  I can only assume TN feels it, too.  I surely hope he does.

The other night as we cuddled and I lay on his soft belly we had the following exchange about something being ridiculous:

Me: That is ridick.

Him (in all seriousness): You should change your name to Ridick so that I can say I put the DICK in ridick.

I can’t tell you how his mind tickles me, his weirdness elates me.  I love his fucking dry sense of humor.

And then there’s his body.  His delicious, meaty, fruity-scented, hairy body.

In our conversations about vulnerability and trust he told me he was having a bad day when I asked him if I could share a certain photo of him and he said, No.  The image, to my eyes, was incandescent, luminescent.  His milky white body thick and stout like a farmboy is like the froth on someones lip from a cappuccino: I want to lick it right the fuck off.

Once admitting his human frailty, he said I could post it after all.  I was surprised, pleased, even a dash of proud.

I love this body.

TN milky white
Who wants to sip this tall glass of milk with me?

[Ed. note: TN Tuesdays is a semi weekly meme which will share more of The Neighbor with my Internet Boyfriend.  All photos have his approval before I post them.  As always, he’s eager to see what you guys think and has requested that I share any comments.]



All day I dream about sex.

The Neighbor has been adorable lately.  While I’ve swung from left to right with my emotions — do I stay or do I go? — he’s crowded in to cuddle me and be cuter than a pile of puppies on a carpet of kittens.

Tonight he brought us dinner, two bottles of wine, and encouraged me to do a “TN Tuesday” post with the pics I’d taken a few days ago.

“What do you want to do tonight?” he asked, standing in my kitchen with my little green shorts on, his cock nearly hanging out the pant leg.  He ate while standing at my kitchen island.

“I dunno…” I was tired and non-committal; it’d been a long, rough day of not making money and wallowing in my rage for my ex.  You know, the usual.

But it was as if a gun had gun off.  He flung his arms out in a clearing motion and said that I could do whatever I needed so long as I wrote [about him].  Did I need my laptop?  My desktop?  Should the TV be on in the background? What did I need to be creative?

I told him laptop, Long Island Medium, glass of wine.

He made it all happen then took a quick nap on the other couch.  His mouth hung open like a little bat cave while I downloaded pics and thought about what I’d share about him this week.

So, here it is:

He loves wearing giant underwear.   Like, biker shorts/long-johns underpants.  Personally, I hate them (mostly), but then every so often he’ll bust out with a pair of these and I can’t help but allow it.


TN in his ADIDAS.

I mean, wouldn’t any woman in her right mind??


TN in his ADIDAS.

[Ed. note: TN Tuesdays is a semi weekly meme which will share more of The Neighbor with my Internet Boyfriend.  All photos will have his approval before I post them.  As always, he’s eager to see what you guys think and has requested that I share any comments.]


His love language is different from mine.

TN lounging in an apron
My sous chef.

If I had to guess, The Neighbor’s “love language” might be acts of service.  It’s not mine — mine is somewhere between words of love and getting loads of gifts — so it’s been a real exercise over the past couple of years to sort out how he feels about me.  He’d say all these stupid, mean things, but then vacuum my apartment or take out my trash, he’d keep my stash of Topo Chico full.  Eventually, I heard from his own lips what I’d suspected from the very beginning based on his actions: he loved me.

The relief I felt over finally being allowed to trust my gut was immense; I no longer had to pit his words against his actions.  They finally matched up!

The last couple of weeks have been tumultuous for me.  I’ve fought my demons and it feels as though I’m winning.  I trust him suddenly and completely.  The time we spend together is fun and light and his attentiveness is off the charts.  Sometimes I’m even overwhelmed by it.  I remind myself to breathe and relax and let his love swirl around me and think, “This is how it’s supposed to feel.” I’m so used to rejection from those I love his acceptance and presence feels like a stranger has come to dinner.

Good thing I’m a decent conversationalist.

TN lounging in an apron
A quick break before we had to get serious with risotto.


[Ed. note: TN Tuesdays is a semi weekly meme which will share more of The Neighbor with my Internet Boyfriend.  All photos will have his approval before I post them.  He is eager to see what you guys think and has requested that I share any comments.]



He’s a lot like Spock.

The Neighbor is a serious kind of guy.  Not the kind by whom you feel scrutinized, he’s just very straight-laced and totally literal.  His brain is a finely tuned machine which often misses nuance and inflection.  Think Data or Spock, any kind of Artificial Intelligence where the machine grapples with human inference and ambiguity.  TN and I have found ourselves entangled in more than one clumsy Who’s On First? dance.

For example, last night I asked him about the photos I wanted to post today.  We took them Sunday morning as we lay sleepily in my bed and the cat wound his way between us with an elevator butt.  TN checked in with Reddit, his go-to internet hangout.  I snapped pics of half his face, his profile, his lovely furry chest.  No more of his face was visible than the ones he had already approved, in fact, a little less was shown.

“So, are you cool with the pics I took the other day for TN Tuesday?” I asked as we walked the long uphill street to my apartment.

“Sure, whatever you‘d be comfortable sharing.”

“You mean me-me or what I’d be comfortable sharing of you?”

“Whatever you‘d be comfortable sharing,” he repeated slower.

Laughter bubbled up in me as I realized he didn’t see his own double subject and I attempted to rephrase my question.

“I don’t share any part of my face [so that’s moot], but you already have, so I don’t know what you’re saying.  Can I share the pics of you with part of your face?”

He sighed in exasperation and said again, “Whatever you want so long as you can’t recognize me.”  Now we’re getting somewhere.

“Ok, except I can recognize you because I know you.  I have no way of being really subjective about it.”  I covered half my face with my hands.  “This works for Batman, though!”  He just rolled his eyes at me and smiled.

I sighed.

“I wish I could write you some program to download to go from Super TN at Work to just TN with Hy.”

He laughed loudly.  “Hy, I don’t think there’s any program that will ever make me understand you.”

I laughed, too.

And that brings me to what I really want to share with you: I can make him laugh.

This serious, data-minded man finds me to be hilarious.  I tickle him, I tease him, I poke fun at his robotic nature and he melts in my hand as he realizes he’s applied genius brain-power to a Tommy Boy-type situation.

What can I say?  I guess I can bring anyone down to my level.  Even a sexy, furry Spock.

TN giggles
Giggles galore. ♥♥♥

[Ed. note: TN Tuesdays is a semi-weekly meme which will share more of The Neighbor with my Internet Boyfriend (aka, readers).  All photos will have his approval before I post them.  He is eager to see what you guys think and has requested that I share any comments.]




He does favors for me.

[SPOILER ALERT!] This is a little teaser for a post later this week involving my pal, Fireman Sam.


TN Tuesday - Fireman Sam
I wish I was Fireman Sam.

The Neighbor is a real sport don’t you think?

I truly love this dude.

I miss him…


[Ed. note: This is the 3rd installment of TN Tuesdays, a semi-weekly meme which will share more of The Neighbor with my Internet Boyfriend.  All photos will have his approval before I post them.  He is eager to see what you guys think and has requested that I share any comments.]


TN is my houseboy.

The Neighbor vacuums for Hy
In the beginning.

Six weeks after giving birth, my baby was round as a seal pup on my fat-laden breastmilk and the result was a massive, roll-covered infant.  Adorable, yes?  Convenient, no.

Silly, naive me didn’t think twice about my body and what it’d been through pushing a baby out of it, so when I bent over the middle backseat of a sedan (the safest place in a car, natch) while holding a 20lb baby in its 15lb carseat I wasn’t prepared for the pop and ting I felt from my lower back.  But there it was.  I was fucked.

Months of chiropractic work, physical therapy, X-rays and MRI’s later, it was determined that I had two bulging discs — not the worst diagnosis ever, but certainly not great.  It was a relief to be told there really was something wrong with me, though my exhusband never seemed to really believe me and, I suspect, suspected I claimed constant back pain just to get out of certain chores.

Anything that required lower back strength threatened my back (mowing the lawn, lifting a heavy trash bag, emptying the dishwasher) I would ask him to help with about every 9th time lest he feel overwhelmed by my injuries (I wouldn’t want to put him out, after all).  And the #1 chore that I needed help with the most was vacuuming.  Pushing that stupid, heavy, upright thing would send me in spasms in about a minute without fail.

The sad thing about that was that I actually loved to vacuum.  I loved to see the bits of debris disappear beneath the roar of the engine and the clean tracks left behind.  Far more rewarding that cleaning toilets, to be sure.  It was work accomplished!

By the time I moved out 2 and a half years after my diagnosis and near constant pain, I had just resigned myself to the pain and the obligatory chores that caused them, so imagine my surprise when my young lover first offered to vacuum for me when I told him of my cleaning troubles.

First he did it in his shorts, then just his underwear, then I required nudity.  Eventually, there was a dress code — which still stands today — of my panties.  I pick them out according to my mood.  Sometimes they’re lacy, sometimes they’re not.  It’s whatever I want to see him in.  Like big, fat stripes.

It’s worth mentioning that since I met TN in November of 2012, I have only vacuumed for myself maybe three times (to truck loads of regret, I might add).  He has never complained and always done it cheerfully.  For being so young, he is extremely grown up in ways I’ve never experienced (my ex is 14 years his senior).

Other things he does without complaint include taking out my trash, reaching high things, helping me make the bed, moving furniture, and being my financial adviser.  I’ve never been with anyone so generous in my life, so stalwartly devoted to taking care of me.  It’s kind of incredible.  Almost as incredible as TN in my panties with a vacuum handle in his hand.

I’ve totally hit the Houseboy Jackpot.

The Neighbor vacuuming for Hy in red and pink panties
See what I mean??