Sweet little fuck, aka meat dildo

River has to leave tomorrow morning. She doesn’t usually leave without a little parting gift. But she’s had a hectic day and she’s totally frazzled. When I’m like that a nice fuck is just what I need. But she’s the complete opposite. It would just be piling on to her non-stop day.

She surprises me by coming over to snuggle on me in bed. “I was hoping you’d do that.” “You must have been hoping pretty loud.” But how far will it go? Is she just snuggling on me because she thinks I expect something, and that I won’t like it if she leaves for a few days without the parting gift? It would be ok. I know she’s frazzled, and I don’t want to make it worse.

“You probably just want to sleep. And I’m stinky.” “Nice come on. Does that work with most girls?” “Most girls don’t just want to sleep.” “That’s what you think.”

Then she pulls out the magic wand. “There’s time for a quickie.” Now the pressure is on. River likes to be fucked in the orgasm. But can I get a good stiffie before she orgasms? Damn ED.

She’s buzzing herself. I’m fingering myself, and touching her body for inspiration. A progress report: “I’m not there yet.” Maybe she’ll have to wait for her second orgasm. “Take your time. I can hold off. And make it even better.” “You don’t hold off very often.” “Usually it takes so long I just have to go with it when it happens.” That’s how it is for me on the antidepressant. I don’t like it.

The thought of River holding off, controlling her orgasm to make it even better, turns me on. I slip a finger into her for her g-spot. My cock stiffens nicely. “I’m ready.” It can be hard to tell when she’s coming, but when she switches the wand off it’s a sure sign. My finger slips out. My cock slips in. And we fuck.

River shudders and moans beneath me as I aim for her g-spot and pound her. It’s going to be quickie for sure because despite the antidepressant I can feel it already. It’s nice how her g-spot is so stimulating for both of us.

But it’s not a normal orgasm for me. The Citalopram is factoring in. It’s achingly slow. It’s like it doesn’t want to come. And even when it does it’s like slow motion, almost painful in a nice super-sensitive way, like I’m drained from coming four times already and there’s nothing left to squeeze out. But I work it for all it’s worth, and River’s enjoyment is infectious.

“That shall be known as the Sweet Little Fuck. I think it will help me sleep.” Interesting. For me it was more like being a meat dildo. But I don’t mind. She should use me like that more often.


Last night

Last night when River went to bed she said she’d be awake for a while. River says she doesn’t hint, but that sure sounds like a hint to me.

I come to bed. She seems friendly. I pull her leg between mine. “I’m being manhandled.” “And you like it.” But then she rolls over and we assume our usual falling asleep position. Not quite where I was hoping things would go.

So I pull out one of my brilliant sexy lines. “Would you like to feel a penis inside you?” That’s an adaptation of something she once said that I’ve co-opted because I like the irony of a bunch of nice words ending up sounding dirty. “If it’s a nice friendly penis. Not a nihilistic penis.”

At this point I have to back up to our walk earlier in the day. After almost getting run down in the crosswalk I was musing about how the importance of life is overrated, how there’s so much life, so much human life, how life as we know it depends on death as we know it, and if my life is so valuable to other people then why don’t they save it. To me, this is just normal stuff that anybody who thinks would think about. But not to her. “Did you take your antidepressant this morning?” “Yes! I remember it well. I swallowed it without water, the way I like.”

I assure her that my penis is always friendly. “My penis would like to feel itself inside you.” “Ok then. Anything in mind?” “Something face-to-face.” “Just don’t use up all my oxygen.” She’s had a low-grade cold, and some asthma. “I might have to breathe hard.” “You can do that.”

I sit atop her. My cock getting heavy already. Sadly, that’s been somewhat unusual for a few years, and I miss it. I look at River’s face, her girlish body beneath me, a slip of a girl, a woman, press my hands down on her breasts, feel my cock brush her skin and rise up. I like it. I move her hand to it proudly, want her to feel what she does to me, how much I want her, how much my body wants her body. Her hand closes around what I hope is an astonishingly hard cock, and I enjoy the heat her fingers create brushing over the ridge of my glans. I reach behind, between her parting legs, through the flaps and folds of her labia, into her wetness, up to her clit. But enough formalities. “I think we should just get to it.” Fine with her. This time I slip both knees between her legs simultaneously. She rubs my cock up and down her slit. “I like it when you do that.” She slips it in, almost before I’m ready. And we fuck.

Slow and easy and sensual, pulling out and feeling my cock slip back into her, through her lips, through the frill of her pussy opening, leaving a tinge of rhubarb taste in my mouth, sliding through her wet friction to her cervix, savoring the sensations as I slowly pull back out, my cock gliding backwards through the velvet moistness of her pussy. Feeling myself inside her, surrounded by her, held by her. Wondering what it feels like to her, to have a penis inside her. I hope it feels as good to her. I sit up, holding her legs in front of me for a good long bang, grabbing her waist, River crossing her legs in the air, pushing against the wall with her hands to fuck me back. A good long bang. But I don’t feel an orgasm on the horizon. When I stop, it’s not to hold off. “See? I told you I took my antidepressant.” She laughs. My SSRI doesn’t decrease my libido, but it sure makes it hard to come sometimes.

“I don’t have to finish.” “Whatever you want.” “I don’t want to use up all your oxygen.” It’s been a sweet bonding fuck. I don’t have to come to enjoy it. We fuck a while longer in a friendly playful way, then River rolls over, and I spoon in behind, my penis still inside her, where she can feel it. I can feel it, too. I push against her ass for maximum penetration so my cock will stay in as long as possible while it softens. In the old days it wouldn’t soften at all, but these are the new days. “Is this comfortable for you?” “Yes.” “Me too.”

We settle in to sleep together. “I really enjoyed that.” “You were meant to.” “So were you. I enjoyed that the same way I enjoy going for walks with you and holding your hand, or giving you good luck kisses, or folding laundry with you. Just don’t think that folding laundry is a substitute for sex.”