We navigate through the sea of St. Patrick’s Day revelers and homeless population that has taken residence in the station. We make the chilly walk back to my house in Rittenhouse. I love chatting with her and hearing about what’s going on in her life. Her family is close and they all look after each other.
We get to my apartment and I take her coat. She says she’s cold. I love my address, but it’s a 125 year old building, and although it’s got so much character it’s a little drafty in the winter. Cherie wants to get under the covers in my bedroom. I see this as a signal, so I do the same. Garments were removed and we snuggled down. It was really brilliant to do this. (I mean that in the ‘English’ way not in the “smart” way.)
I’ve missed her very much lately. It’s been 2 weeks, but it always feels longer to me. Cherie says it’s probably with our crazy schedules, I missed her more because I didn’t know how long it would be until I saw her again. I have to agree. I hadn’t thought of that. I’ve been watching videos of Ana Foxxx and Jezabel Vessir to deal with her absence. (Google it. You’ll understand.) Of course Cherie is fine with it because she’s a near perfect sexual being.
I devour my love. Her thighs are like the walls of a temple and I need to enter the gates of glory. I know how to please her. Someone once told me I would always be good at the things I love and they were right. I am good at it. I have always loved women and I know how to please them. Cherie is so appreciative of my prowess, and I’m up to the task.
Great talent is always squandered on those who don’t know what they have. I’ve been with women that’ve appreciated the power briefly but they don’t have a good alignment with their minds and their lady parts. The brain is the biggest sexual organ in the body, and Cherie’s is correctly aligned. I’ve never experienced anything like her.
I’m actually surprised during our lovemaking how many times her train rolls into the station. I have the power and control to sustain the act. Honed from years of courting the fairer sex.
Listen to her. Don’t go faster when she’s going. Stay with her… and bring her home. She’s delicious.
Cherie is built for sex… and I’m Mario Andretti.
Her beautiful skin is brown and soft as a baby’s skin. Every inch of her is a machine made of adoration and sex. I’m the instrument to deliver to her what she wants. I’m playing my 1979 Ibanez Iceman electric guitar, and I dive into the audience after a solo. I take her backstage and she’s the one I have chosen to spend the night with, but after this concert I get to keep her.
It’s beautiful. We didn’t plan this except for the meeting, but we are absolute fire together. She’s a perfect sexual partner and I’m the fury she needs to bring her to the destination she wants to reach again and again.
I love Cherie.
For once I’m not in love with the idea of love, or that I’m banging a former Reinhardt model or the hottest girl that everybody wants at the venue or the blonde with the long shapely legs. I’m making love to my girlfriend that I genuinely love.
I never had the euphoria with Cherie I had with Michele or Annabelle. Of course I will alway love Michelle. We have history and a deep friendship that goes beyond sex. But Annabelle was a mistake and a distraction that cost me two years of frustration, aggravation and disappointment. But Cherie…. I feel real love for her.
She’s a good woman who’s a good match for me, and we fuck each others brains out. (I know this is a dating blog, but that shit is absolute FIRE)
At my age to have a woman who will destroy you in bed at least three times a night, and love you and be grateful is an amazing gift. So I will say to any of the men out there who are middle-aged… hang in there. Keep living and put your heart out there. Who gives a shit if it’s been broken several times. Don’t be bitter. That’s just you drinking the poison hoping somebody else dies. Total bullshit. Keep your heart open. Get the fuck up and try again. She’s out there. Somewhere. That special lady is out there and waiting to love the shit out of you. It happened to me and it can happen to you. Don’t be chained to your past. Let go of the bars of the cell you’ve been keeping yourself in and walk the fuck out.
Forget your separation, and your divorce and your loneliness. Get out there and find her. She’s waiting for you!
It’s noon and I have to watch the clock to get baby on the 1:05 train. I want to go again, and she asks if that’s possible because our sex is always epic. I tell her I know it’s possible. I can but she’s tired, and she tells me she’s feeling lazy. So I quote Lemy Kilmister (God rest his soul) from Motorhead, and tell her to “Roll over and make my day.”
Fifteen minutes later we both cross the finish line with another notch in the bedpost. Not for me but for us. Okay, she crossed twice during that encounter!
We get dressed and she said her legs hurt. She feels her orgasms down to her knees and being pinned cramps her up a bit.
That’s what it feels like to be alive and to have mad sex, baby.
She gets up to run to the bathroom. I love seeing Cherie’s body naked upright. Because normally the clothes come off in the bed, but when you see the woman you love walk naked past your bed, it’s an event. That’s different. You see her face, her breasts, and her whole body. It’s rare to see a woman moving naked past you. It’s a bit of an anomaly. But to see her beautiful body in locomotion, is lovely. Her legs and posterior.
Those delicious, perfect chocolate thighs.
I love her thighs.
I wish I could clone Cherie and send a copy out to all of the lonely heartbroken men in the world. Because you would have the perfect girl that you always wanted your wife to be. A loving sexual baby that’s loyal and adores you… for YOU! (And fucks your brains out!)
I love Cherie. You can all see it in my words. I wish I could be more graphic in how amazing it is to be with my love. I’d say things like. “I split her like a ripe melon.” Or things like “A freight train coming off the tracks.” Or… “Moist folds and stiffened giblets.” (well maybe not that last one! lol!)
Cherie has strength and flexibility. Her strength is inherent and her flexibility is her schedule, but she displays both of those in bed. But she does want to be restrained and controlled in the bedroom. A powerful woman who is tired of making decisions every day… all day for herself and everyone else, wants to be taken in bed.
I get it. I’m proud of how together she is as a woman. \
A rock solid lady.
We’re getting ready to roll out of the batcave. I go to my bureau and pull out a black bag and hand it to her.
She looks confused and puzzled because she never expects or wants anything.
She opens it and inside is a purple pashmeena. (Guys… when its cold out give your girl a pashmeena in her favorite color. They aren’t expensive and they love them because girls are always cold.)
She loves it.
“Aww! I love it and it’s purple! My favorite color! It’s beautiful! Thank you! (kisses of real gratitude ensue)
“It’s been cold and I saw it and thought of you.” (this move isn’t better than taking her again and again and bringing her to orgasmic heaven the last two hours but it’s a romantic gesture that shows you thought of her when she wasn’t with you and you wanted to do something for her. This means a lot to her because it shows you love her for real and not just love fucking her like the lion you are guys.) I didn’t do this for that reason. I really did see it and thought, baby loves me and gives me everything and I want to give the girl who wants nothing to have a sweet soft scarf.
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