That Loving Feeling

I feel like I’m a teenager in love. Can you hear my heart beating? I swear that the thunder of my heartbeat sounds like the base in my high school boyfriend’s hoopty. How old am I, and how can he not hear it as we’re making out on his couch? Who even necks anymore? I do, apparently. I’m legit wet already for him, and I wasn’t even sure that could still happen anymore, and that was from just our necking. We’ve been making out for an hour, and I feel it is something that I can do forever if for no other reason than I don’t want it to end. I’m forty(ish), not fourteen, mind you, and my panties are soaked through. I feel like I’m having heart palpitations, I’m sweaty, and my lips are swollen, and it’s obvious that he, too, is excited. We’ve been dry humping through our sweats for, no lie, about thirty minutes and I’m not the slightest bit embarrassed that we both now look like we peed ourselves from him making me so wet. I almost want to go home so we could do it again tomorrow and every day after, but that would only be cruel. I finally had to reach into his sweats and briefs to adjust his marble cock because it looked so uncomfortable; that’s my story and I’m sticking to it, and I literally haven’t felt a cock that strong since my twenties. I asked him if he took something performance-enhancing, and he responded shaking his head in the negative, and that is just what I do to him, and that he was genuinely equally impressed and eager to test it, he stated that it was so hard that it hurt; but I digress.

We met through work; he is a colleague, and we share so much in common. Both divorced for years, have grown children, and we’ve always just clicked; even our Zodiac signs say we’re perfect for each other. I’m Scorpio, and he’s Pieces and I thought I was a handful, but with this mother fucker, all norms are out the window. Nobody vetted us, and we met organically through work or fate, our loins, and hearts. I’m embarrassed to admit I’m in love and probably have been before we even started dating. I’m scared because it might be the kind of love that you’d blame yourself for if they cheated on you. It’s that love where you know the names of the children you’d hypothetically have. It is safe to say that we both want to wait longer than the five months we’ve already, but like I stated, that would just be cruel. We’ve been in the zone where there is no egoic mind involved, no planning or negative what ifs, it is just unadulterated love straight from the heart and soul that no logic or fear to screw it up.

Everyone should separate the ego from the soul and love again, and the world would be a much better place. It’s the love you don’t ask for and where the fantasy is the reality if you let it and before any ego introduces the ick. The ick is all those things we nitpick about each other when we feel threatened. It’s the kind of blind love that is also deaf to anyone with anything negative to say. The one you’d make excuses for even when none can be made. I fear this is that love that hurts long after it’s gone, but I’m grateful I know this now because I’m terrified of what this kind of love would make me do or how many vessels I’d use and abuse to forget him. It’s the love that steals your heart and stops your brain, and that, if lost, would leave a gaping hole where that love used to live. It’s the kind of love you cultivate instead of test because there are some things the heart knows long before the ego sabotages it. Barf, I know, but I’m lost in love, and nobody can ever prepare you for that, and to think, we haven’t even consummated it yet.

“I should go.” He says as if a question. This is a rodeo we’ve been milking for months, and Momma is ready for the next chapter. I laugh because we’re in his house, and I’m relieved I’m not the only one lost in love. I pull him off the wet spot on the couch and walk him to his room. We’re a sloppy, disheveled, and beautiful mess, not to mention I’m nervous and eager to please and more eager to be pleased by the promising and threatening tent he’s pitching. I think that has to hurt and smile, hoping it is wishful thinking. I’m so silly that I turn the light off when entering his bedroom, and he flicks it back on, saying he wants to see me. That is normally a hard no, but I was flattered because he was adamant and stated his desire with genuine affection. He turns me at the foot of the bed, kisses my red, swollen lips, and tells me to raise my arms. I do, and he lifts my shirt over my head but stops to stare while my arms are trapped in my shirt above my head. He pushes me back onto the bed and kisses me from below my elbows down to my waiting breasts. One hand held my arms in my shirt above my head, his other molding my breast into his hungry mouth as my receptive nipples tickled his tongue. My heart is pumping so hard it sounds like thunder in my ears as he continues to kiss each rib going south. He releases my arms but tells me not to move them as he peels my sweats off. He’s on bended knee between my legs, and he places them on his broad shoulders as he pushes his nose into the damp fabric of my now useless panties. He inhales me like he is huffing paint, and his happy moans only quicken as he gently bites into my mound. He mouths my pussy over my panties before he pulls them to the side to eat and drink. I couldn’t obey him any longer and freed my arms to rub his head like a genie’s lamp as he bit into my forbidden fruit. I quickly came just enough to wet his whistle, and you know, some things do get better with age. I haven’t involuntarily locked a guy’s head between my thighs in ages as he pops his head free and stands between them.

I can’t remember the last time I came that quickly, it must have been in my teens. He peels his shirt off and drops his sweats and briefs, and I was flattered to see him still hard enough to cut diamonds. I grab his cock to pull myself up and it into my wanting mouth. It’s my turn to shine, and I’ve always been proud of my oral skills. I took my time and didn’t want to show all my cards just yet. I cupped his balls to guide him to the back of my throat with my other hand on his strong flexing and bulbous ass. I got so turned on when he flexed his ass to get deeper and I couldn’t help but look up into his face to watch his appreciation build. He’s got a great build, ripped abs, and a manly chest. His head was thrown back as his hands held my head, and when I gagged on my dessert, he looked down to meet my gaze. His face conceded his cool as his jaw dropped open, and his brows frowned before he bit into his bottom lips to test my reflexes further. I think we both got lost in the moment and Momma was ready and willing to take one for the team but just as I felt he was about to cum, he withdraws, shakes his head in disbelief before pulling me to my feet for a delicious kiss. He then turns me around and bends me at the waist and pulls my now useless panties to the floor and off before spreading my legs like a dirty cop, goes to his knees, and pushing his face into my ass to eat to pay homage.

“Oh fuck!” I didn’t know it was a contest as he spread me to root at my bean with his nose inside me as if he had a snorkel. He fucked me with his face until my legs began to shake and then he stood, lifted my knees onto the bed in doggy and painted up and down my wet holes to lube his cock before teasing me at my back door to see if it was locked, and it was not. I wanted him there, too, but he was feeling me out before he lowered his mast into my wading pool. Like a Venus Flytrap, I locked onto him with a death grip as he slowly filled me like a glove. With his hands free, he grabbed my hip with one and strummed me with the other. I was already hanging by the skin of my teeth before and it wasn’t long before I came hard enough to see actual fucking stars, but Momma was on a roll. I came so hard that I face dived into the mattress and bit into the bedding like a dog and might have even growled as I felt my climax push out around his cock, and splash between my thighs as he continued to drive. My asshole was flexing and blowing him inviting kisses because he massaged and slowly pressed his thumb inside me there like a bull rider holding onto the braided rope as to not be thrown. “Fuck me,” I volunteered involuntarily before biting into the bedding again with white knuckled fists full of it to post for my penance. Older men should know how to drive vintage, and he did not disappoint. He fucked my ass, strummed my clit and confessed all his darkest secrets. I thought for sure that the fire department would be kicking in the bedroom door with all the screaming and howling that fueled us on. His strokes promised to hurt me, and I was surprised how dexterous he proved, juggling all that he was until I felt him grow thicker inside of me as I reached down between my legs to strum my own strings and massage his tightening balls until we both unloaded on each other. Well, he in my trunk, and I like a waterfall between my shaking legs. We fell like dominos onto the bed where we spooned, wiped each other’s sweat, and panted “I love you”.

Happy Hump Day!