“I’m sorry I never told you how special you were to me,” he whispered. “you are to me,” he amended.
He drew a map of kisses and soft bites all over me, making me moan, laugh, and groan from his tenderness and passion. He turned me over on my stomach and kissed the nape of my neck from ear to ear, and down my spine, softly licking me, making me swoony with desire and anticipation.
When he slid into me, it was sooo good we both let out a moan of agonized pleasure. He pushed it deep inside me, and I raised my ass to meet him, feeling my pussy tighten around him like she does when she gets hit deeply. We stayed like that a few seconds, suspended in bliss. I felt his breath on the back of my neck, pure fire. I start trembling (this is new). “Are you o.k.?” he asks.
“Fuck me,” I whisper.
He pulled back and and started thrusting slowly, eliciting groans of pleasure from us both, it was so good, so juicy, so tight, so damned delicious I couldn’t get enough. I tilted my ass up to meet his thrusts to get him in deeper. He had one arm around my neck and his other hand slid under me so he could finger my clit as he was thrusting. Holy mother and the little angels, don’t ever stop…
He starts thrusting harder, I’m grinding against him and we’re both covered in sweat. It’s so intense I hear my own grunts and moans as if from a distance, and then I realize that he’s talking to me (this is new), whispering in my ear: “I missed you so much,” “you belong to me,” and “you can’t walk away,” are what I can hear. I didn’t really care what he was saying at that point because I started coming. “Yes, yes baby, yes!” he said and he started fucking me harder. Much harder.
Slamming so hard and so deep, His cock was hitting places inside me I’d never felt him in before, and the deeper he hit me, the more I wanted it. I was meeting his thrusts, and it hurt, but it was so good…I was grunting, screaming and then he eased up and we got on soft slower rhythm, sweet and hot, until I started coming again, riding his beautiful cock to nirvana. He was still hard inside me when I finished. He tightened his grip on me and I knew. “Oh no,” I joked, trying to move. “Oh yes,” he said, squeezing me still with his legs.
I was like a wet rag on the bed when he was done with me. I could barely talk or move. “It’s been so long, I missed you,” he said, trying to explain himself. Add to that the small fact that we would never see each other again. I felt him moving, taking off the condom, throwing it away. He got a warm washcloth and was cleaning me, but I really couldn’t move. “I don’t know how you’re going to get home if you can’t walk,” he said, laughing. Then I moved. I gave him the finger. We both laughed.
I leave the room to clean up and get dressed. When I come back, he’s dressed, sitting in a chair next to the bed, looking…intense. I go to him. “Are you okay?” I touch his face. He looks upset.
“I’m ok,” he says. He is so hard to read, his face still and serious.
He walks me downstairs and we kiss good-bye. Lightly. He never likes saying good-bye. “Can I say ‘I love you’ now without it being a big thing?” I ask, smiling.
“I love you too,” he says, hugging me.
“Take care,” I say. I look up at him. The lazy smile.
Outside, I feel resolved, like I’ve made the right decision. To end it. I’m not sad or tearful or upset, just content. I go home with no regrets.
But it wasn’t over.