His tongue darts in, out and around my asshole until I’m moaning, and I feel the pressure of a cock about to enter my pussy. But it’s not him. I look over my shoulder. “What are you doing?” He’s starting to fuck me with a massive dildo. He always has toys around, but we never use them.
“I haven’t seen you in so long, I’m enjoying you,” he says. His eyes never leave my pussy, as he starts to fuck me with it, slooowly. I writhe against it getting wetter, and more aroused, but it’s so big around (think beer can) that it only gets a couple of inches in at first. But then suddenly he slides it out of me, and wraps his arm around my waist and moves me further up the bed. I feel his stiff cock brush my ass. “I have to have you,” he says, bending me over.
He slides into me slowly and I moan because he feels so damn delicious. His long dark cock fits me so perfectly, and then some. He starts stroking me slowly, and as he pulls back I feel beads of sweat break out on my back. He plunges in again, and and I feel his fingers graze my spine from my neck down to my ass and he grinds into me and as he starts pumping we’re both panting and grunting and he suddenly pulls out and flips me onto my back and slams all the way into me, making me scream, and then starts pumping me mercilessly, deliciously, his cock hitting depths inside me that belong only to him.
My legs are wrapped around his waist, his hands are under my juicy ass and we’re staring into each other’s eyes with the same thought: This will never be over. We kiss, and I get all woozy — I feel the room spin around when I close my eyes — am I going to faint? From passion? “Are you o.k.,” he asks when he breaks the kiss. I don’t open my eyes or answer, just thrust my hips for him to continue. He moans and buries his face in my neck, pumping like a machine.
It’s so good, so hot, so tight, so deep, I start gushing (squirting), which drives him crazy, and he slams me harder. He’s fucking me like a piston and I’m screaming, and gushing and coming; we’re sweating, and grunting and biting until finally I come and come and come. I feel him completely loose control and pump me so hard it hurts as he comes, intensely.
We are a wet pile of limbs on the bed for a long while. I think we fell asleep.
There was so much to say, so much I wanted to know, so much I wanted to ask. But I was afraid of getting emotional and afraid of piercing his defenses. I kept it simple. “How are you?” I ask.
I am lying on my back and he is on his side next to me, his hand playing with my breasts, stroking my stomach, and idly stroking my pussy.
“I would have loved to have had a relationship with you,” he said. “But you said you didn’t want one and I just went along with it.”
“You’re so hot, so smart, we’re so…compatible, that yeah.”
“You think I’m hot?” I actually said that. What am I, seventeen? I just have a hard time (still) believing the attraction between us. I’m 15 years older, but we were built for each other.
I recall the first conversation we had about feelings. I did say that I didn’t want a relationship when I brought up the feelings. Did I cheat myself out of something good? (To be continued…)
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