Then I cried when he ate me out

Note: This is part 2 of a 3 part series on one evening of sex. Read part 1 here. 

 I laid back, waiting for him to make his move. Had I changed his mind?

Yes, I had. He laid down in between my legs to see my freshly shaved pussy. He laid sideways so one of my legs was over his body. I opened my legs far for him, and one touch of his finger to my clit, so light, so gentle, had my eyes closed tight. He slowly slid his tongue over my clit and I moaned loudly. He teased me lightly, fingers from both hands wandering around my pussy.

I moaned and cried out, he flicked his tongue across me rapidly. It was like heaven touching me. My whole world became my clit, my pussy, my vagina. A finger in me, gentle, barely there, tantalizing me as his tongue wandered up, down, and circled my clitoris. His tongue wandered down me, to the spot just below my clit.

As he teased me, he would stop his tongue and not move it, just let it sit on me. My body would tremble, and I begged him to move against me. He would sometimes remove his tongue altogether and yawn, I could feel his whole body fill with air. But he didn't act tired as he played with me, he continued loving my clit. His finger wandered further into me, fucking me gently as he sucked at my clit. His wet mouth felt amazing on me.

Then another yawn. But this time, I heard something different. He wasn't exhaling air. He was inhaling.

"Are you smelling my pussy?" I ask, bewildered.

"Mmhmm," he tells me. He inhales again, and I feel his fingers pulling my lips wider apart.  I am awed. he goes back to licking my pussy, and I feel a wave of emotions hitting me. My eyes prick with tears. I am overcome. He is eating me more intensely, and I'm moaning in high pitched almost squeals of pleasure.

He smells me again, and eats, and smells more. Now that he knows I'm aware of what he's doing, he's smelling me more, nose practically touching me as he fills himself with my scent.

I am overwhelmed. I start to cry a little as he eats and sucks at my clit. I'm almost to orgasm and I'm feeling the most wonderful, compelling joy I've ever experienced. He sniffs and smells me, he inhales as deeply as he can. Finally, I start to cum and it feels good but I'm distracted by my emotions of the moment. As I'm cumming his finger takes over my clit, but I push his wrist away. I can't take it. He stops and sits up, confused.

He looks at my face and asks what's going on. I look at him, and the reality of my experience takes over. I look at him with blurry eyes, I try to tell him, to find words. But I can't. Tears start to fall down my face and he puts a hand on my face and asks me gently what's up.

I try to verbalize the whirlwind I'm in, "I'm.... I'm... just..." and then I'm in full tears, crying. "I'm so happy!" with a sob I roll to my side and curl up into a little ball. He immediately surrounds me, holding me to him. He's cradling me against him and I'm wrapped around him. I'm sobbing into him. He's letting me cry. He's not sure what to say.

"You just... you just don't know what it feels like!" I cry. "To go from being told you're so dirty and gross to be loved like this..." I can't describe what I'm feeling. All I can do is just cry into him. "I never imagined that someone could ever love my body like this."

He holds me, and chuckles, "Honey, I love you. You are so beautiful, so sexy, I love every part of you. He was a moron you smell so good baby." He holds me tight to him.

I calm down and he kisses my cheek wet from tears. He makes sure I look into his eyes and he asks if he can continue making me cum, he's not done yet. I bashfully nod my approval.

He kisses my stomach as he crawls down in between my legs again. He smells me more, pulling my lips wide. He licks and sucks at me more and more. I'm in emotional ecstasy, and he makes a show of smelling me as much as he can. Big, deep breaths. He makes me cum twice more.

I feel vulnerable, close. He moves up to kiss him and I taste sweet on his mouth. But then he shows me his very hard dick, and he tells him he needs to fuck me, the smell of my pussy has made him rock hard...

to be continued.

The look in the eyes

Every evening we are normally on our computers in the office. He is normally gaming while I am blogging, catching up on emails, or writing. (Blogging takes a lot of time!) We're always chit chatting and constantly interrupting the other with hugs, kisses, and sexy comments that turn the other on and disrupt concentration (another reason blogging takes so long).

Last night "the look" came up somehow. He feigned ignorance and I reminded him, "You know, THE LOOK. The one we have when we're having sex sometimes... that look." He couldn't play dumb for long, as the smile broke out across his face. Yes, he's aware of the look.

The look doesn't always make its appearance. Frequently his face his buried in my breasts or in my neck kissing me during sex. My eyes are typically close as I cannot keep them open while I'm orgasming or even close to an orgasm. But sometimes, with an effort... the look happens and when it does, I don't see anything but him.

It starts when we lock eyes. And then it stays. And for some breaths it says. We kiss, and our eyes are open, looking, staring. He is thrusting or I am rocking but the other is stopped, transfixed in time. The mouths are open, but there are no words. Just shallow breathing. Shared air.

The best sex either of us have had in our lives was in January. I came home from work stressed out beyond recognition.  I went straight to bed and started crying. He was there with me, holding me to him, letting me wet his shirt in my tears. He held me so very tight that day. He kissed my forehead and my cheeks. He told me he would be there for me, it would work out. It was OK. As I calmed down his kisses started moving closer to my mouth and then down my neck. What followed was the most passionate, moving, and incredible sex I'd ever imagined possible.

The look first made its appearance there. At one point I was riding him in cowgirl and I was moving very slowly. His hands were on my back and I was bent over him. Our eyes were locked for what felt like hours. The emotional state of the room was intoxicating. I remember looking at him and thinking this was the most beautiful, joyous, ardent moment of my life. I never wanted it to end. Then he said, "I want this to last forever." 

What followed was so intimate and so beautiful I didn't tweet about it and I won't describe it here. Its ours. Forever.

Every once in a while that look resurfaces. It may be for a few moments, it may just be for a second. The longer we hold it, the more intense the sex becomes.  Sometimes he orders me to look at him, or our eyes meet by accident and we both hold it.

The look surfaced last night. It wasn't planned, even though we talked about it. We just looked. And looked. And then he breathed "I love you" to me. I almost started crying - it was so intense, and I was so freaking happy. I managed to say it back, barely. We kissed, lips just touching. Our mouths were open, lips touch, and we shared breath as he fucked me slowly, our eyes still locked. I broke into a smile, and he asked me why I was smiling. My eyes pricked with tears again. I lost my words.

He buried himself in my neck and kissed me and kissed me.

What's love got to do with it?

We've all probably heard that line sung by Whitney Houston. What's love got to do with it? That was a small topic of discussion for me on twitter earlier this week. It started as a topic of who I thought ate pussy better: men or women? Well, even though I'm bi, I've never been with a girl... so I can't weigh in on this topic.

My guess is that a woman can, because familiarity with the equipment makes for a better user of that equipment, right? The questioner then disclosed he thought guys gave better head for the same reason and he had experienced both sexes.

So I asked the boyfriend to weigh in - he's experienced both. He said its been a long time since he's had a guy give him a BJ - too long to give an honest comparison. But then he continued well beyond the theoretical situation with a dose of reality. He said, "But to really answer the question, the sex and head you get is only as good as the love you share with the person, no matter their sex.... the more in love you become with someone the more you will enjoy it. And if there is no love, its meaningless and won't feel nearly as good."

Wow... I completely and totally agree with him on this, but I haven't heard him say this before. For me, sex and love go hand in hand and I can't separate them. That's a major reason why I've only had sex with two people in my life - love has to be there for me to be intimate with someone. It's not just about physical pleasure, its about physical pleasure and an emotional connection. I can't give you access to the "goods" if you know and care nothing for my mind.

The boyfriend and I tell each other "I love you" countless times every day. It never gets old and we can never hear it enough. Sometimes we'll respond with "How much?" or "Oh really? Are you sure?" out of fun -- and to see how the other responds. This morning after a wonderful round of sex and cuddling that was full of kisses, he told me he loved me. And I asked "How much?" He paused. Then his answer, one I've never heard before, was this:

"Enough to cum in you, and never worry."

There's a lot to be said in that statement. We're secure in our physical health and we're not concerned about the possibility of a baby*. There's a lot of trust and love in this relationship. Its the best relationship either of us have had. And we tell the other person. There's no hiding what we want, what we like, what we need. Its open and honest all the time, not in specific windows.

And this blog is proof of that, I think. The sex is fucking incredible. He's had a TON more sex than I have (way more than I'd really like to ever know about, really)... but its never been more pleasurable or wonderful as its been with me. He's done the sex before love, the fuck because you want it, and the relationship only exists for sex... its all failed with a lot of hurt and misery all around. For some I'm sure that's OK and it works for you. I'm not saying anything about you - I'm talking about us.

For us, love in friendship is that ingredient that makes the whole recipe work. And we like it that way. For us, love is pretty much the whole thing. Without it, there is no us.

*I am on a birth control pill and we never use condoms. Before we even had sex we discussed the possibility of a pregnancy from sex (really if you're having sex, its always a possibility and you should always consider your options first!). We had always agreed that if it happens, it happens and we'll celebrate it. (For me it would really be a wonderful thing considering my chances are super low anyway, but that's besides the point here.)

He made me dinner

In all relationships, there needs to be some romance. How much? Well, that depends on you and your partner. To me, romance is do that extra special something that you didn't have to do. It's spoiling with a massage, cleaning out their car, buying a special gift, treating them to a night or weekend on the town... it comes so many different ways.


For me today, it came in the form of dinner. We share responsibility for dinner. This morning I was running late and forgot to think about it. Mid-afternoon I texted the BF, panicking that I had forgotten dinner and had no idea what we were going to do. He just replied back, "I got it." It may be something small, but it felt like such a relief! I asked what his plan was - and he wouldn't tell.

Fast forward two hours, and I'm walking through the door and the most wonderful garlic smell is filling the room. The oven is on, and I see garlic and mozzarella on the counter. I kiss the boyfriend hello and ask what's for dinner... "Chicken" is the only answer I get.

Chicken with garlic, tomato sauce, and mozzarella

About 10 minutes later, its done. He calls me to come grab a plate, and mentions I might want to bring the camera as it looks pretty impressive.  And yes, it certainly did. The fork in this picture is the larger dinner fork from my cutlery. These breasts are huge... and covered in garlic, garden tomato sauce, and shredded mozzarella cheese. It smelled and tasted delicious!

All he said was "I got it." But what I heard was, "Don't worry honey, I'll take care of it. You won't have to do a thing."  Its those little things of helping each other out, and there's no score to keep. There's no "You owe me for that" when its over. That, to me, is so much more than chocolate and flowers any day. Help me out when I need it even when I don't ask. Hold me when I cry even though it has nothing to do with you.