o experience such tragic things at the young age of 24, losing pets and family members loved dearly are pretty much, well, normal. And I know this to be a bleak start to my day, but when you've lost someone who you've known for a short while and yet felt like you've known them your whole life, it cuts even deeper. I feel like I will be licking my wounds for a long time after this… Many will offer their condolences and hugs, signs of affection, support and tell me that everything will be alright. But I don't want that. The rare standout will tell me to keep moving on, with a straight face. The face that knows what I'm going through, the one to give me that extra push. I don't need that either. But what I do need…
I awoke this morning first from a cool breeze through my window from the previous night's thunderstorm. Spring was here in the nation's capital, robins were chirping outdoors and it was decent weather for the neighbourhood kids to get up early and play around, hop scotch and whatnot. A few screamed in joy, laughed and giggled. So innocent – just little things that didn't know what would round the corner in adulthood. A pity.
Then I felt the rough tongue flicker on my chin, cleaning something that wasn't even there. Or perhaps he already knew what news was to come and found it his duty to comfort me in advance. My cat, Hades, always managed to find his way onto my chest at some point in the nights. I am, indeed, his bed. Owning a cat with separation anxiety can have perks, as well as downfalls. The moment he wakes up, he finds it a routine to knead me, let me make that clear – not 'NEED'. The claws in a repetitive on, off, in, out, on my skin. I am bare. Of course, I always slept like this, freedom and enjoyment in lacking garments wrapped around, getting in the way, making you too warm, so very unpleasant. I stretch my arms to my side, tensing my muscles, curling in my wrists and sharply exhaling. I shake my hands through my hair, trying to feel more awake, less sluggish, getting my energy cranked. Hades just blinks at me, slowly, his big electric green eyes…
'Hey… you have your routine and I have mine…', I say to him.
My phone vibrates violently on my bedside table, the tune of ACDC's Shoot to Thrill blares out. 'Man, I need to change that ringtone', I thought, as I pick it up and look at the caller ID, then answer, to hear the sound of an old colleague's boyfriend. Of all people to call me, this early in the morning (granted, 8am to me and the shifts I do at work… this must have counted as sleeping in). His familiar voice brings back memories of a time when I was struggling hard and he and Annie were always there for me, to help me with a place to stay, a friend to count on, help with class room assignments. College isn't easy you know. And… he's strained, as if holding back. I coax him a little, to find out what's wrong and a long silence follows. I can hear sniffles and sobs, and I admit to thinking the worse. It's true though…
His girlfriend, my best friend of those wonderful years, was killed. Hit by a drunk driver. I start to sob too as the reality hits me quickly, the memories flowing, flashbacks of a happy time together. We say nothing on the phone for a while, and I tell him that I will send a text his way once I'm more composed. As soon as I hang up my phone, my alarm to get up and get ready for work sounds. Damn it, this morning is an awfully noisy one. I immediately dial my store and when I'm on hold, listening to the automated voice tell me my options for which department to be directed to, I start to choke. My words drown and the tears start pouring again. My boss answers, and I must start to sound like the boyfriend when we talked just moments before. I try my best to say I won't be coming in. Ironically, I work at a liquor store. The smell, the atmosphere, the products themselves would just haunt me…
I take Hades into my arms and hug him like a child does their favourite teddy bear. He lets me. After purring gently in my embrace (they're supposed to be therapeutic), I put on jammies and we make our way downstairs to the kitchen to make my breakfast smoothie and green tea. A warm beverage always warms the soul. I grab a pill bottle and take out a capsule of venlafaxine. If there was ever a time when I desperately thought I would need an antidepressant medication, it would be today. My parents' divorce when I was little, failed relationships of my own, failing school, living paycheque to paycheque, in debt to the bank and the government, being the only one of your friends to not have made something of yourself in life (yet). This news was the cherry on top. I sit at the table quietly and stare outside my dining room window while I sip, sip, sip…
I guess at some point I'd managed to curl up on my couch for a nap, because I awoke once again, only this time, it was dark outside. I had some missed calls and texts when I checked my phone. I honestly did not feel like answering any of them. Keep strong. Stiffen that quivering lip and move on. At times like this, I figured all I'd want to do was be alone, deal with this change, my own thoughts and demons. I scroll through my contacts list and find your name…
Instantly I want nothing more than to hear the sound of your voice, deep, gentle, charming… hypnotize me into another state… and before I know it, I've already pressed the call button. You answered, oh God, you sound like an angel. I tell you that something bad has happened, no details, and this time around my voice is more steady and emotions are controlled. And half an hour passes.
The sound of the engine to your car turns off outside and I'm already at the door. You let yourself in, not even with a hello, and look at me. My eyes are still red and stinging from the previous efforts of trying to hold everything in and I sigh. You furrow your brow and can tell that I am exhausted; emotionally, mentally, and I just stand there letting you decipher how rough a day it's been for me. Without words still, I take a small step closer and wrap my arms around you. I let them just hold in place and until I get that moment of accepting what I am doing to you, I squeeze tighter and you hug back. My face is buried in your sweater and I explain what my morning was like. I rant on about everything and mention something about how lonely it feels, but you can't understand much with the muffle. Your hands find my chin and lift it slightly so that our eyes are locked.
'I won't let you be alone tonight…', you said, as you pull me in as close as we can get.
And that's it. I break down. Harder, than I did this morning. My foundation that I'd built for a tough exterior crumbles and I am vulnerable, like the Jenga piece pulled from the wrong spot. I can feel a hand on my head now, petting me, calming me, '…shhhhhhh…'. I'll guess roughly 10 minutes passes as we just stood there, and it felt like forever…
'I'm so tired…', I mumble lazily.
I look up at you with eyes half open, puffy and wipe my nose. Gross, I know, but you once said I looked cute when I looked like this after crying. You said I looked more… human… One more tight hug, you step back and manoeuvre my arms to go around your neck. Bending slightly and hooking your arms under my knees, you lift my body and carry me to my bedroom. I don't need to show you which hallway to turn down or where the light switch is, after all, you've been in here many times, and good times they were. I sniffle as you lay me down on my bed, my head lolls to the side and I feel a slight tickle just below my stomach and your fingers reach just on the inside of the waistband. I twitch and half giggle. Slowly the string to my bottoms is being loosened and your big hands reach under me for the back and pull them down and off my feet.
'Let's get you more comfortable…'
You had always treated me like a queen. I giggle a bit louder this time and smile for the first time today. Interesting, how I can feel one thing and flip to another in such a short range of time. Only you would know how to make me do that. I feel your hands slide from my ankles and up my calf, slowly and teasingly, caressing circles at the top of my knee. While making your way up, you're landing small, soft, wet kisses on the inside of my legs.
My breathing picks up, deep and ragged, and the fire inside me ignites. Your kisses stop at the top of my thighs and I know what you're doing, you've done it every time and it never gets old. Feeling the heat, taking in my musk, teasing me even more, waiting for my permission. My pussy pulses with anticipation, wanting… NO; craving you. I moan quietly as you spread me a little bit wider and the tip of your tongue traces its way to my lips, and as far as you could go inside. I've surrendered. For something to feel as good as this, giving me exactly what I've needed all day to cheer me up. A different type of comforting, moments to let go and try to forget. My hips leaning up a bit, wanting more, so your hand reaches and reveals my pink swollen clit and lick it as if it were a peppermint swirl, your other hand introducing two large fingers inside me.
'Oh fuck…', I breathed.
I'm gasping now, sharply, faster and faster with your rhythms, gripping my pillow around my head to conceal my moans, my squeals.
I'm aching now, dripping with cum from that ecstasy, from enjoying the sounds of hearing you suck, slurp, and slowly your mouth makes its way up to my breasts (you can't leave them out), and up past my collarbone and to my neck. Your hot breath, so close, raising goosebumps upon my skin. You kiss my ear, my cheek, and mouth, and I smile bigger, with a hint of dopeyness.
'Amazing…', I think, '…that didn't take very long…'
'Thank you…', I say, then curl in to your embrace again, deeply breathing in your scent, counting the times you're stroking my hair again, gently, reassuringly, resting in the skin to skin contact, and drift away into sleep…
Source: reddit.com/r/sexystories/comments/364mgt/sad_tuesday_str8f4moral