Healing – By Sophia Ned-James

I have to give credit where credit is due. Royce* has proven, once again, that settling down with him was the best decision I’ve made in a long time. Ladies, don’t fall for the Okey-Doke! Your man may be puttin’ it down in the bedroom, may be fun to hang with and may even be helping you out financially. But if he isn’t capable of using his love to heal you when you need it, then he isn’t getting the whole job done!

I recently went through a devastating, life-changing experience: the sudden death of a close friend. I mean, I was knocked flat on my ass with this one. I’m talking weeks of ugly crying, regular screaming fits and random acts of violence against whatever glassware was handy. Your girl embraced grieving like it was chocolate: I consumed it and it consumed me. This came close to breaking me.

Royce not only stayed with me during my darkest moments, but by really helping me to begin my healing process. He didn’t try to subdue my grief. On the contrary, when I shattered glass after glass in anguish, he just swept up the pieces and purchased new glasses. When I screamed until my throat was raw, he gave me tea with lemon & honey. He combed my hair when I hadn’t touched it for days. He fed me even after I swore I’d never eat again. He put up with my morning breath, uncombed hair, and snotty nose and called me beautiful in a way that made me believe him. And he knew exactly when, where and how I needed to be touched.

Y’all, that man’s touch was a soothing balm! It was better than the Benadryl I used to help me fall asleep! It was better than the whiskey he’d sometimes slip into my tea!

Whether it was his hand on the small of my back at the funeral, telling me he’d never leave my side; his tight grip on my hand right before I got up to eulogize my friend, reminding me to look at him when I felt lost or afraid while I spoke; or the gentle hands that held my face as he kissed my tears; Royce’s touch got me through the worst few weeks of my life.

And he knew exactly when I needed to be touched intimately, and to allow our bodies to do what they do best. He’d been so patient during my bereavement, never making any demands on me at all. But somehow he knew when the time was right.

We were at his place. It was nighttime. He was watching the game in his den. Exhausted, I took a long shower, turned off the lights and climbed into his bed. The television was on, but muted. Pandora was playing 90s R&B softly. I was emotionally and physically drained, but restless.

I must have dozed off, because the next thing I felt was Royce’s body behind mine. Actually, the first thing I felt was his big ol’ dick poking me in my back. I expected to be irritated because sex was the last thing on my mind since losing my friend. But then I felt his soft kisses on my neck, and his warm breath made me shiver. And for the first time in weeks, my body responded with something other than sadness or anger.

You’d think that Royce would be tentative with me, a little hesitant at least. But he wasn’t. He boldly kissed and stroked my body knowingly, as if he dared me to resist. How did he know I need this, I asked myself. How could he possibly know, when I didn’t even know myself?

He was patient, but persistent. I didn’t feel rushed, but there was no stopping the inevitable. And surprisingly, I was ready.

Fully aroused, I surprised Royce when I quickly flipped him onto his back. Before he could utter a word, I kissed him even harder than he’d kissed me. And then I climbed on top of him, rubbing myself shamelessly against his muscled thigh.

He got the hint and shifted us so that I was right on top of his throbbing cock. I moaned the moment my clit made contact with it. But I didn’t let him enter me. Instead, I roughly knocked his hands away and made my way up to his face. Carefully planting my knees on either side of his head, I paused. I don’t know. I guess I wanted his permission.
I watched his eyes, which seemed to sparkle in the television light. I didn’t have to wait long for my answer. He roughly grabbed my ass and pulled me onto his face. His attack on my re-awakened pussy was so fierce, I had to hold onto the headboard for support.

He didn’t waste any time with niceties and subtleties. He ate me like a starving man. For the first time in far too long, I gave into the intense pleasure of his mouth and tongue.

It felt exquisite! It felt sublime! It felt so good that in no time at all, I had a powerful orgasm that left me breathless. I was barely coherent when I slid off of his face and onto the bed beside him. He quickly pulled me into his arms for a tight embrace.

When I could finally speak, I whispered “How did you know I needed that?”

“I know you,” he answered, stroking my back.

I quickly recovered. Pulling him on top of me, I welcomed his weight. He felt whole and real and alive. I was almost desperate to touch every inch of him. So I rubbed and squeezed and grabbed every part of him I could reach.

When he finally entered me, I felt filled in a way that’s difficult to describe. It’s almost as if every stroke rubbed away some of my sadness. He was gentle, but his strokes were powerful. He pulled me into his rhythm effortlessly. And even though I wanted it to last forever, I was anxious to make him cum.

Sex is always great with Royce. But this was something different. It was more than pleasurable, it was healing. I didn’t just feel good, I felt better.

I can’t explain it, y’all. All I can tell you is that my man’s moves that night changed something inside me. It’s like his dick was a weapon knocking out the grief that had occupied my body and spirit. I know that sounds crazy, but it’s true. Making love to Royce that night helped me begin to heal.

Now y’all know your girl Sophia is no stranger to the benefits of amazing sex. But until now, I’d never experienced healing sex. I highly recommend it, ladies. I hope that each and every one of you finds someone who will do for you what Royce did for me. Not just the sex, but all of it. Like I said, dude was my rock!

So seek ye a king who will slay your demons with his dick! But be careful. That’s the kind of shit that’ll get you sprung!

*Royce is my man’s internet name. I keep his government name between us for obvious reasons.
Photo Credits: sirsplayground.tumblr.com, 25.media.tumblr.com, haightashburyco.tumblr.com

2 responses on “Healing – By Sophia Ned-James

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *