I've told this story before on another site, but it bears repeating here. 100% true, only names changed. This is going to be a bit long, so bear with me. First some background.

So, this is concerning a close female friend of mine, someone I know from work. We'll call her Alicia, which is a litter similar to her name in a certain way, but not her name. We've never been romantically involved or anything, but we're intimate in other ways. She's a tough girl. Has a reputation as a tough girl. She's the one other people usually hang onto when things get rough and they need a rock. I'm one of the few people in her life that she's comfortable showing vulnerability around, and probably the only man, since she hasn't been in a relationship for several years. As such I'm very privileged, and as such I also feel a bit awkward recounting this tale, because she has no knowledge of my proclivities regarding this subject. She's as vanilla as vanilla gets, and she has no awareness of my general dacryphilia. In a way, it makes it a purer experience when she shares her tears with me, since she can do so unencumbered by any thoughts of what it might be stirring in my deepest places.

Alicia sent me a text message one day. I had worked a graveyard shift and was napping in the morning, when I received her message. A close friend of hers had met an untimely end. She was in need of support and summoning her inner circle to come provide it. This wasn't the first time that she's leaned on me, and definitely not the last, but it was probably the most significant. 

I drove over to her place, and met her at the door. A group of three or four other friend, mostly female were gathered around the dining table. Alicia pulled me aside into the kitchen for a hug. One of her curious attributes is the way that her emotions leak out of her as soon as she feels safe and enveloped. She met me in the doorway with wet eyes and a look of barely restrained pain on her face. As soon as we embraced, like pushing an "on" button, she fell into hard, but silent sobs against me. Hugging her when she has pain in her heart has always had that effect on her; like turning on a tap, the waterworks instantly start flowing. 

She pulled away from me after a few seconds, saying "Don't hug me, or I'll cry. We have too much to talk about still."

We gathered at the dining table, and everyone went around, discussing the circumstances, the freakish suddenness of it, trying to keep a bright atmosphere by recalling their good memories and hoping that no more bad would come of it. Alicia has a warm, loving heart, which, by some happy chance, does not at all clash with her frequently tough, alpha female demeanor. She's the sort of woman whom a lot of men would consider a lady bro. As such, her friends are closer to her than anything, and she's given to keeping her own emotions locked up, sometimes to a fault, when she feels that they need her to be steady for them. That night, however, she was perpetually at the breaking point. 

One by one, the others filed out with bittersweet goodbyes. Sometime around midnight, it was only the two of us left. I opened my arms up and pulled her close to me, and she immediately fell apart, clinging hard to me and crying her eyes out. As I have mentioned elsewhere, she wound up clinging so hard onto me that I found later that she had left fingernail marks in the back of my neck and shoulders. 

She has a very deep, hard cry. Her face tightens with pain, her eyes forced shut and her teeth gritted together as her lips pull back into a sneer of anguish. Her copious tears come warm out of her eyes and drip down the side of my neck and into my shoulder, leaving my shirt collar cool and wet with her vented sadness. Her sobs come from far down within her and wrack her entire body, and the sound of her sobbing is low pitched and throaty, a sort of harsh, forceful "uh huh huh huh huh" sound that continues until she's completely spent of air, at which point her sobs become silent and then are broken by deep gasps, sometimes coming in sets of three in quick succession, like "gaspgaspgasp" or sometimes coming as a long, fluttering, labored breath, like "ga-a-a-a-a-asp." She had very powerful abdominal muscles, and her fit but soft belly feels incredibly good against mine as it clenches and heaves with her sobs, and flutters and inflates with every gasps.

I've never understood exactly why I like that so much, but something about feels a woman's quivering, shaking belly as she sobs turns me on like nothing else. I think it may have to do with the force of her emotions being transmuted into an actual, physical force. I once described to a friend an instance in which I was having sex with a former girlfriend who tended to cry when she had an orgasm, and how good it felt when her muscles tighten around me in rhythm with her sobs. My friend replied that it was a case of what she called "poetry in flesh." That I was experiencing her inner feelings as the potential energy of her emotions were changed into hard, powerful kinetic energy by her flesh. That may very well be the case, but in any situation, I'm probably as much of a connoisseur of a woman's sob-induced muscle convulsions as TorNorth is of lips curled by sadness.  

Back to the situation at hand, I do not know for how long Alicia was crying on me. Her grip on me felt ever tighter and I knew she needed my body to be her shelter in those long moments, as she melted into my embrace. Eventually her sobs became near-silent breathy whispers washing over my ear like waves breaking on a shore in the dark of night, just beyond the eyes' compass but not escaping the senses. I heard only the slightest hint of them, but felt her whole body continue to heave against me, shaking us both, and at regular intervals her sudden, loud gasp would ring in my ear and her belly would kiss and caress mine with the force of her intake of air. She was draining herself of everything that was in her, and I was blessed to be washed in it.

At length, I noticed that my eyes were beginning to feel wet as well. I felt as though a little bit of her sorrow had dissolved and reformed in my own heart, though I did not know the person whom she had lost. I tightened my hug around her, feeling glad that I was able to know a little bit of her sadness at a time like this, because it came from a very deep and true place within her, and, as such, in the rolling of a single tear down my cheek, we were experiencing an intimacy of souls. 

Eventually, her sorrow has spent itself and we released from our embrace. The day had been long and hard on her, and she was very much in need of rest. We parted on her front porch with a friendly kiss. She thanked me for being there for her. I thanked her for allowing me to be there for her. 

 

Last edited by NeedHerSobs (March 20, 2016 6:04 am)