Plan B

The first time around the block, I made sure to check all the boxes, and thirteen years and a divorce later, I gambled on what I never knew I wanted and got more than I could handle. I was perfectly content on my own after an amicable divorce, and honestly, I had performed even that by myself. That all changed when I met a guy who was also in a similar boat, and let’s just say we rocked it.

I did my due diligence on this guy when he caught my eye. He was “dreamy” with big blue eyes and in the shape you’d expect from someone who recently got beat up in a divorce he never saw coming. He had three beautiful daughters and, from all perspectives, was a diligent doting father and an unbelievably decent man. I, of course, was skeptical and dug deeper and was even more suspicious when after turning over every rock, all I could find was better T. Everyone LOVED him and spoke about him in the highest regards, and I mean everyone. They spoke about him as if he was a myth, and in hindsight, they were all right. He is just a man, an unremarkable man by most standards, but a man of pure heart and impeccable character. Sadly, he is judged by what he is not or could be and quite often for what others perceive instead of the man he just is. Some call him Johnny B, and he lends that connotation to just being present.

Don’t get me wrong, his reputation far exceeded him, and oddly enough, we are both good with that, too. He turned out to be more introverted and humble than his reputation preceded, and to this day, I’m still not sure what I got myself into. Sure, he was destitute because his ex took him for literally everything, and the catch twenty-two with that is that he was comfortable with nothing. So he “lacked ambition” and was broke, but the ambitious are rarely ever present, and money isn’t what makes you rich. He is rich beyond what most can comprehend, and I think most people that met him, unbeknownst to even themselves, are attracted to him because of the innate contentedness his aura oozes. He, like me, is single and okay with that, and he saves all his time and attention for his beautiful girls. Seems like a match too good to be true, because I too had my children of similar ages who are my world, I’m very successful in my own right, and don’t need a man, but little did I know how much of a man I never knew I wanted and would find in him.

Get this: he likes to do laundry, I never have to wash a dish, he is too affectionate and tones it down for me. He can cook, works hard and doesn’t know his worth, or just accepts that nobody will appreciate it, and I’m working on that. And what a father he is, and I gave it plenty of time to see if any of this would wear off or show a different reality, but it just continues to get better. So he’s not everyone’s cup of tea, obviously not, because his first wife left him and he’ll contest that most women would find him boring, not driven for success, and too effeminate for their taste, and only in the way of being sensitive, compassionate and just a good guy, and certainly not in any other way. He is tall, outwardly masculine, and intimidating to most, and I contribute that to his Aries rising because the guy I know has a soft gooey center, and he cries more than I. So you ask, what makes him so perfect for me?

Buckle up because I can’t believe people have caught and released him. In the romance department, he’d say that he isn’t, but when you are finally with a man that does those little things that you never had help with before, like laundry, dishes, still holds doors and treats you like you are the only person he sees, I find that romantic. And don’t get me started in the bedroom. I’ve never been with a man who could have multiple orgasms and who would manage or forgo them just to continue pleasing me. I can admit that he is often too much for me, and I now know better to keep that governor on his motor because I literally would find myself kicking him away and begging for mercy otherwise. So it all sounds too good to be true, right? Let me just give you a taste of what I’m dealing with.

We’re in our fifties now. I often feel as if I’m literally over sex because of menopause, age, and again, I’m over fifty, so I thought. We tend to go long periods without intimacy between the sheets, and maybe that is the trick: to allow yourself to forget so that each time we get back on that horse, it feels like the first time? I don’t mean horse in that way either, because there isn’t any one thing that stands out as exceptional about this man, but more of the combination of all his parts. And there might be one thing puts him above the rest, he loves and needs to eat me. Nothing gets him more hard than performing oral and as he describes it, eating my pussy is like putting on a virtual reality suit that allows him to experience the ride that is him as if he were me.

He plays me like an instrument that he was born with in his mouth and who has had lifetimes of practice. He knows what buttons or nub to push or avoid, how hard or soft and when, and his gift, I guess, is learning what I want and when, even when I never know. Oh and even better, he knows intuitively, when to ‘“ ’Do not pass ‘“ ’Go”, and not to collect his own.” I can’t tell you how many times I’ve gotten mine and left him high and dry. I’m not boasting about that, and I always feel bad, but he knows what he does to me and often pushes me to the point of no return, so I can’t feel too bad about what he knows he’s doing: sorry/not sorry.

Case in point. We both are empty nesters now, and often, what we find as the ideal way to end a hard week is to plan on ordering in and performing some form of today’s Netflix and chill. I kind of tipped my hat when I showered and told him I ordered pizza and that he should follow. I had never seen him move with the quickness, and it was cute to see that light in his eyes again. He gave me that questioning look and smirk as if probing, and I only replied that we should also take a couple of gummies. I imagine him now, jumping in the air and clicking his heels before racing to our nightstand and distributing the goods. I would normally only take half, and give him my other, but I took one and he downed two, and I knew then that we were either in for one hell of a ride or just figuratively melting into the mattress, and I was okay with either, but the look in his eyes was telling me of a whole other story. He showered, and by the time he had come out, the pizza was hot, and all bets were off.

What did we watch, you ask? I could not tell you because by the time he came out the shower, the gummies were in full effect, and we chowed like a couple of fat kids eating cake, and I think part of the reason for that was the dessert we had planned. So we brushed our teeth, dropped our linens, and continued our grinnin as we crawled in between the sheets. I think I did put on a show we were streaming, but he never saw any of it, and I only put on something to help keep me distracted. When I saw him crawl into bed and that his chub was already thick and threatening, I too got excited as both my mouths started to water. I started to panther crawl towards my dessert until he derailed me by pushing me over and saying “me first”.

All I could do was pout, and even that was short-lived as his hungry kiss took my protruding lip. It seemed like forever since we kissed like that, too. It wasn’t a formality or rushed, even though I know how much we wanted him to go down on me. He sucked my lip and stole my breath with his gifted tongue, or maybe it was his thick hard battering ram threatening to break an entering that kept us distracted. I couldn’t help but jostle for a better position, hoping that it found its way in. I rolled my hips, matching the dance of our tongues until the beautiful heat of it breaking inside me caused both of us to squeal and growl in pleasure. I wasn’t quite wet enough, but that made it that much more delicious as he pushed past the resistance until he fell deeper and deeper. When he hit bottom and just sat there like the ever-persistent bratt that he is, I rolled my hips harder and told him to stop teasing me. He answered by sitting back on his heels and telling me to suffer with an evil little smirk. I couldn’t help myself and rolled and jockeyed my hips harder and faster as I dug my nails into the back of his thighs for more leverage. He allowed just enough laps before nearly and completely withdrawing, to just to again plunge deep and hard, and we repeated this whole dance until the friction stopped completely, and my pussy and ass constricted and tried to strangle his bratty cock. To which he responded, “oh no, you don’t,” and withdrew cruelly, leaving me like a gulping fish and flopping on the dock.

I was so pissed and wasn’t going to be denied, and as he was going south for his real dessert, I said “oh no you don’t” and literally had to kick him onto his back so that I could straddle his face in sixty-nine. He laughed, and all I heard was a muffled something about having his cake and eating it too. I took out my frustration on his obnoxiously hard cock which challenged my limited gag reflexes, but I gagged nonetheless, and he seemed to enjoy that because his happy sound reverberated around my raging clit and through my entire body before I tried to drown his ass with my first climax. He paused to see if I could hang for more, and once my holes stopped flexing, I lowered myself back down onto his gifted face. That is how I knew for sure that I was high af, and if that didn’t give it away, it was surely clear when his thumb played at my backdoor, and I just pushed back onto it as his mouth sang into my clit. I came again, and normally that would have been more than I could handle, but apparently we both demanded more.

When I saw his undercarriage shrink and withdrawal into his body, and the delicious taste of his precum, it triggered me to suck harder and deeper and I latched onto his ass and took his cock to the hilt like a remora on a shark. He bucked under me like a bull trying to throw a rider until he used that thumb to push me forward and onto my face in the mattress. “I see how you want to play,” he says as I feel him slam into me deeper than I could imagine from behind. I was cumming again and shaking like an epileptic when he grabbed me hard by the waist and fucked me toward redemption. Surprisingly, I wasn’t ready for redemption, wanted more penance, and demanded more and harder. To which he responded by going flat-footed and showing me just how much deeper he could go.

Thank god we were empty nesters because it must have sounded like a couple of feral cats to anyone within fifty feet. I love that deep guttural sound he makes that builds into a roar when he cums like that, and I didn’t even feel the death grip that left fuck bruises on my haunches. Not to mention that I let it all out myself along with those embarrassing queefs that accompany the face down ass up position and I don’t think he even heard over his own earth shattering climax. He fell off me and pulled me into the small spoon where we panted our I love yous and he asked me, “what you watchin”?

Happy Hump Day!!