One. Smooth. Stroke.

Size matters but not how you think.

Yesterday when I was sucking Monsieur (funny how I call him that now, even to myself, in real life) I kind of wanted to measure it. I’ve mentioned he’s big, but I didn’t have dimensions. And, of course, I can’t just say, “stay right there! I need measuring tape,” so I used my fingers, thinking I’ll measure them later. He’s two of my hands plus three finger widths long, and three full fingers thick across just behind the head. He’s maybe another half finger thick at the base. I remembered that measurement so I could measure my hands later. (You wonder why I don’t just ask him if I can measure him? If you knew him, and knew his demeanor, well, you wouldn’t wonder. He just is so proper, and so correct all the time, that it’s not really something I can broach.)

Well, so he’s at least eight and a half inches long, probably more like nine when he’s fully engorged. I’d say he’s almost a full three inches across at the base.

Damn, no wonder I’m sore.

Now, dear blog of mine, unless you think I’m a size slut, I’m not. There are some problems to having to deal with a cock like that. For one thing, good old fashioned deep-throating is really impossible. For me. Right now, that is. Maybe I’ll work up to it.

I’ve seen a tool that big before, I think, but I wouldn’t let it in me then. I think, no, I know I was afraid it would hurt. I didn’t want it in me. I used my mouth and hands on that guy, way back when, then let him ask out my friend Angelica who was into the big ones. He was a nice enough guy – thicker in more places than in his package, though. Not my type.

With another guy, I would have said no. With Monsieur, I’m just so in love that I want to be possessed by it. I want him inside of me. I am totally owned by him whether he knows it or not.

So I guess the point is with anyone else, I would have given up. It’s really too big to be comfortable. With Monsieur, I don’t want to be comfortable. I want it to hurt at first then feel good; that warmth of surrender is what I crave.

When I first saw it, when sex reared its head a few weeks after “Maggie” died, I was scared of it. I didn’t think I could do anything with it. Monsieur’s hands, fingers, tongue, voice, all made me surrender to it. And even then I couldn’t take all of it. So, you remember, I purchased “the Monster.” Mostly to get used to the size of something so huge, and also for my own relief since Monsieur did not consider me his ‘girlfriend’ or whatever and I couldn’t count on him to give me regular sex.. (I still don’t think he think of me that way.) Well, the Monster helped me with it, after a few times. I can now take him all. My next task, which I have chosen for myself, is to be able to take him all at once, the first time. No pausing, no crying, no “Ahh! Easy there!” or pain I can’t handle. One. Smooth. Stroke. To the base.

“Maggie” told me she could take Monsieur all the way, into her throat. I wish I could have seen that. She was so beautiful. Her eyes, her lips. Her voice.

She had a Korean father and a Chinese mother, and her hair was so black it had like blue highlights. Her eyes sparkled with intelligence – with fire when she was angry, and with bubbles when she laughed.

It’s no secret to readers that I loved her too. My first girl crush. I miss her so badly.

Will the Yearning Heart be able to do achieve her goal of taking it in One Smooth Stroke without Monsieur fucking her every other night?

Will Monsieur find a way to let the Yearning Heart approach him without him consumed with shame, guilt or remorse?

Will Emma Lou be able to save the farm before the bank forecloses?

Tune in again for the next heart-rending episode of [Cue Music: the Yearning Heart Theme]
♥ ♥ ♥ The Heart Approaches What It Yearns