His Cum Is Still Inside Me

The silence on the way to the airport today wasn’t uncomfortable. It was just sad. The time leading up to the Woodsman’s visits creeps, like refrigerated syrup. And then, when as last he is here, I blink and it’s time for him to return to his home, his life, his job, his responsibilities.

“Do you want me to come on you or in you?” He asked this morning as we coupled for the last time.

“Inside, please,” I begged.

With hard deep thrusts and gentle moans he filled me, giving me every last drop.

Now, hours later, I lay here and some of those last drops are still trickling out of me. Part of him was left behind, but not enough. And I miss him so.

It is a lonely sleep I shall have tonight. One without his hands on my body, his kisses on my neck, his mouth on my breasts, his cock in my cunt. Sans his presence I don’t know how well I will sleep. But I will try. Because I hope to see him in my dreams.

28 thoughts on “His Cum Is Still Inside Me

  1. Time is sweet. The sweetest of most is molasses, which can also be bitter. But the most delicious of treats can be made with this syrup that is well known for how slow it carries on. Hugs.

  2. Ahhh bittersweet is so true, like dark chocolate, worthy of the sweetness for sure…I completely understand the apparent time distortion, oh the agony & then the ecstasy, the agony again….

  3. Hope you’re dreams exceed your expectations.

    Last night, I dreamed that my smoke detector needed it’s battery changed – it gave off those stupid half-hearted beeps. Irritating but neither scary nor pleasant. So, I hope your dreams are more exciting than mine were.

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