![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
grow old with me
Aug. 27th, 2014 11:41 pmAh, the amazing love we've made in the last 24 hours.
I was so exhausted by the time I showered and came to bed around 3:30 am last night. But even though he was dozing, he was waiting for me- showered & smelling all clean and fresh, his skin warm, his fuzzy chest all silky and pleasant to lay my cheek on - and he perked up and snuggled me close, beginning to run his hands lightly over my soft clean curves... then after a few tender moments, he surprised me by deftly rearranging himself down south and burying his face into me like a starving man...and that was just the beginning.
The first orgasm sort of hurt in the process of getting there. It's hard to describe. He was doing nothing wrong but it was difficult for me, even though I wanted it, because my tissues were sore already - I chalked it up to PMS- and I felt some emotional and physical resistance to the pleasure too- again, uncertain why. As I peaked, I broke into tears, and sobbed and sobbed for a few minutes, releasing a lot of stuff...and he let me cry and cling to him, and he didn't leave me, didn't let go, merely held me and gently caressed me while I came down...the second one was even more difficult to attain- emotionally I was riding a roller coaster and physically he was trying to make or help me 'squirt' I think but I've never done that before voluntarily, so it feels like I have to pee, and it's strange and hard to relax. I think he really wants it to happen for me though. He got a towel to put under me, and worked on me for a while, very patiently- and I was able to relax and get into it. Even so, I couldn't "squirt" for him when I came, but it was so intense when it happened, I jack-knifed up in a "V" clenching everything- my toes curled into his thighs, my hands gripping his head and shoulders, and then I fell back and broke into laughter and wild giggles, and he laughed with me and it was so good... and through the laughs sometimes I felt like crying again, but it wasn't anything bad about him or anything he was doing- I felt very loved by him and not hurt, but also I felt kind of crazy or too vulnerable or scared or in a whirlwind of feelings, or something- it was all emotional or physical pressure point stuff internally in me, I suppose- And still, he stayed with me through it all, reassuring, his fingers plunged deep, working, silently enticing me to come for him again, until I realized I was just too sore and raw and begged for mercy... he gently acquiesced & withdrew, leaving me be for a few moments.
I felt so spaced out... so empty, cleansed in a way.
Floating.
He came back and carefully laid down next to me, snuggling up and putting his arms around me. I wanted to reciprocate - he certainly deserved it for all that work- but it was hard to think about him and his pleasure, or even my own pleasure. It was as if a white noise signal played in my head, and I floated above my own body for a while, staring at the ceiling in the dark...
...until I felt his need pressing against me, and came back to myself, and him. I felt him hardening, and opened myself to him again- freely this time, letting him grip me and fill me with his earth-solid body.
We fucked like animals, then: wild creatures in our own night forest, rutting like we meant to populate the world, howling with pleasure, possibly waking the neighbors. He brought me to another orgasm fully buried deep in me, and this time, I recovered quickly, repositioning myself to return the kindness he had graciously given me at the start. Hungrily I took him into my wet mouth, and worked him to the point of meltdown with my tongue... when he finally came, kneeling on the bed, I rose up to pull him close to me, so he wouldn't fall over backwards, and we just embraced each other so tight, and so sweetly, covering each other with kisses...
Dawn was peeking through the windows when we finally passed out in each others arms.
I dreamed strange dreams- where I had dreams within my dream and woke up (in the dream) to describe them to him (in the primary dream).
I finally woke up around 11AM, and I'd been sleeping on his chest so hard my ear was sore.
I blinked my eyes open and gazed up at his handsome sleeping face.
Then I gazed back down at his sleeping form, his warm silky skin reflected in soft golden light. He looked so strong and youthful and healthy and... just... beautiful.
Just beautiful. I gazed at his strong muscled thighs. He had a lovely morning erection, also beautiful in the light, which made me smile sleepily. Incorrigible bastard. As if cumming wasn't the last thing he did before falling asleep.
I gazed at the slow rise and fall of his chest as he slept, ran my hand wonderingly again over his warm skin and soft curly man-hair.
And as I gazed at him quietly, I thought of all these things about him, and how they would change as he aged- his skin will lose collagen and get papery-thin. His hair will turn grey. His muscles will lose some tone. His ability to get or keep erections may fade.
His spine will compress and he will stand less tall. His handsome face will become grooved with creases...
And a queer, keening ache rose in my chest- it just hurt to be there in his arms in that moment. I thought about how all things will happen to him, and to me too, and yet- I felt like... I wished I could be there to see it.
Ohh.
Grow old with me.
please?
I ached and felt I would still love him with his grey hair and his wrinkles and thin skin and faded prowess... even so. even then. Especially then. With a lifetime of memories behind us, and his warm chest to still lay my tired head upon... I want to hear his heart still beating when I'm 93 and he's 100... I think no matter how many nights we have, I'm going to still always be wishing for one more night of comforting sleep with that beat under my ear...
Fuck.
I'm in this too deep.
Too fucking deep.
What am I going to do with myself when he wakes up one day and just doesn't want me anymore? I mean... Men get old and "distinguished". Women get old and... ugly, and invisible.
Ohh yeah. This is gonna end well.
Then he woke up, and rolled in toward me and gathered me up in his arms spooning me close, and I just about died of happiness. I guess today, he still wants me. For today, it's okay.
I felt him poking me with that lovely morning wood, his hands sleepily caressing my curves with increasing sentience... a huge smile spread across my face, and we picked up just where we left off last night...
I was so exhausted by the time I showered and came to bed around 3:30 am last night. But even though he was dozing, he was waiting for me- showered & smelling all clean and fresh, his skin warm, his fuzzy chest all silky and pleasant to lay my cheek on - and he perked up and snuggled me close, beginning to run his hands lightly over my soft clean curves... then after a few tender moments, he surprised me by deftly rearranging himself down south and burying his face into me like a starving man...and that was just the beginning.
The first orgasm sort of hurt in the process of getting there. It's hard to describe. He was doing nothing wrong but it was difficult for me, even though I wanted it, because my tissues were sore already - I chalked it up to PMS- and I felt some emotional and physical resistance to the pleasure too- again, uncertain why. As I peaked, I broke into tears, and sobbed and sobbed for a few minutes, releasing a lot of stuff...and he let me cry and cling to him, and he didn't leave me, didn't let go, merely held me and gently caressed me while I came down...the second one was even more difficult to attain- emotionally I was riding a roller coaster and physically he was trying to make or help me 'squirt' I think but I've never done that before voluntarily, so it feels like I have to pee, and it's strange and hard to relax. I think he really wants it to happen for me though. He got a towel to put under me, and worked on me for a while, very patiently- and I was able to relax and get into it. Even so, I couldn't "squirt" for him when I came, but it was so intense when it happened, I jack-knifed up in a "V" clenching everything- my toes curled into his thighs, my hands gripping his head and shoulders, and then I fell back and broke into laughter and wild giggles, and he laughed with me and it was so good... and through the laughs sometimes I felt like crying again, but it wasn't anything bad about him or anything he was doing- I felt very loved by him and not hurt, but also I felt kind of crazy or too vulnerable or scared or in a whirlwind of feelings, or something- it was all emotional or physical pressure point stuff internally in me, I suppose- And still, he stayed with me through it all, reassuring, his fingers plunged deep, working, silently enticing me to come for him again, until I realized I was just too sore and raw and begged for mercy... he gently acquiesced & withdrew, leaving me be for a few moments.
I felt so spaced out... so empty, cleansed in a way.
Floating.
He came back and carefully laid down next to me, snuggling up and putting his arms around me. I wanted to reciprocate - he certainly deserved it for all that work- but it was hard to think about him and his pleasure, or even my own pleasure. It was as if a white noise signal played in my head, and I floated above my own body for a while, staring at the ceiling in the dark...
...until I felt his need pressing against me, and came back to myself, and him. I felt him hardening, and opened myself to him again- freely this time, letting him grip me and fill me with his earth-solid body.
We fucked like animals, then: wild creatures in our own night forest, rutting like we meant to populate the world, howling with pleasure, possibly waking the neighbors. He brought me to another orgasm fully buried deep in me, and this time, I recovered quickly, repositioning myself to return the kindness he had graciously given me at the start. Hungrily I took him into my wet mouth, and worked him to the point of meltdown with my tongue... when he finally came, kneeling on the bed, I rose up to pull him close to me, so he wouldn't fall over backwards, and we just embraced each other so tight, and so sweetly, covering each other with kisses...
Dawn was peeking through the windows when we finally passed out in each others arms.
I dreamed strange dreams- where I had dreams within my dream and woke up (in the dream) to describe them to him (in the primary dream).
I finally woke up around 11AM, and I'd been sleeping on his chest so hard my ear was sore.
I blinked my eyes open and gazed up at his handsome sleeping face.
Then I gazed back down at his sleeping form, his warm silky skin reflected in soft golden light. He looked so strong and youthful and healthy and... just... beautiful.
Just beautiful. I gazed at his strong muscled thighs. He had a lovely morning erection, also beautiful in the light, which made me smile sleepily. Incorrigible bastard. As if cumming wasn't the last thing he did before falling asleep.
I gazed at the slow rise and fall of his chest as he slept, ran my hand wonderingly again over his warm skin and soft curly man-hair.
And as I gazed at him quietly, I thought of all these things about him, and how they would change as he aged- his skin will lose collagen and get papery-thin. His hair will turn grey. His muscles will lose some tone. His ability to get or keep erections may fade.
His spine will compress and he will stand less tall. His handsome face will become grooved with creases...
And a queer, keening ache rose in my chest- it just hurt to be there in his arms in that moment. I thought about how all things will happen to him, and to me too, and yet- I felt like... I wished I could be there to see it.
Ohh.
Grow old with me.
please?
I ached and felt I would still love him with his grey hair and his wrinkles and thin skin and faded prowess... even so. even then. Especially then. With a lifetime of memories behind us, and his warm chest to still lay my tired head upon... I want to hear his heart still beating when I'm 93 and he's 100... I think no matter how many nights we have, I'm going to still always be wishing for one more night of comforting sleep with that beat under my ear...
Fuck.
I'm in this too deep.
Too fucking deep.
What am I going to do with myself when he wakes up one day and just doesn't want me anymore? I mean... Men get old and "distinguished". Women get old and... ugly, and invisible.
Ohh yeah. This is gonna end well.
Then he woke up, and rolled in toward me and gathered me up in his arms spooning me close, and I just about died of happiness. I guess today, he still wants me. For today, it's okay.
I felt him poking me with that lovely morning wood, his hands sleepily caressing my curves with increasing sentience... a huge smile spread across my face, and we picked up just where we left off last night...
