It all comes back to me as I wake…
Last night, a trendy bar with amber lighting, fancy crystal glasses containing fancier cocktails laden with herbs, fruit and baubles of ice. I was there with friends celebrating my divorce. He was drinking alone, scotch maybe, or perhaps bourbon. I saw him before he saw me, but as I excused myself to go to the bathroom, I made a point of striding through the place like I owned it… and our eyes met.
All those memories came crashing back, at least for me. George was the first man I loved. The first man to make me come. The first to show me real passion. Alas, it never lasted.
Yet as we caught one another’s eye, even for just a moment, I knew it wasn’t for a lack of passion we went our separate ways. His lips parted and he blinked twice, loosened his tie and mouthed my name. My nipples instantly hardened and even though I hadn’t put on underwear that night, hoping to screw some random bloke mindlessly, I tossed that notion out of the window. Perhaps I would jump headfirst back into something deep and meaningful again.
George followed me into the corridor leading to the bathrooms and I couldn’t breathe for thinking of what it might be like to be together again. Have his hands on me, his tongue, his cock…
“Toni, is it you?” he demanded.
“It’s me, you fool.”
I turned around and wanted to hurt him, but I couldn’t. Not only did he look wounded, but he looked sad, too. We came together for another sort of violence, grasping and clawing at one another, tongues duelling.
Somehow, we found a closet to topple into. Dark, we could hardly see one another let alone what we were contending with. As he bit into my lip and shoved a hand into the top of my electric-blue dress, I almost put my foot in what seemed like a bucket.
“Toni, Toni, Toni…” he repeated.
I slid down the side zip on my dress and he devoured my breasts, his ruthless sucking and licking making me so wet I began to coat the insides of my thighs. We crashed around the room, my hands on the front of his trousers, his digging under my skirt to find I didn’t have on knickers, either. The dark really was dark but eventually we discerned a counter which he lifted me onto.
In that sanitary-smelling room, in near pitch-black, he took to his knees and lifted my dress, drinking from my pussy with the thirst of a man who’d been crossing the desert for three days without a drop. I had to slap two very determined hands across my mouth to muffle my screams as I came, rapidly, one after another after another, his tongue unrelenting… inside me, then lashing my clit, back inside me… licking the length of me. His thick fingers joined in now and again.
I lost myself as he reminded me what passion was, and when he finally had drunk enough of my nectar, he speared me open with the power of a machine until I needed his hands over my mouth too, or else I’d have surely drawn the attention of staff or other revellers… wondering if I was okay.
Sweaty, streaming with cum and dishevelled, I didn’t return to the bar. We escaped out of the back door, jumped in a cab and came here, to his hotel room. I made some excuse via text to my friends, none of whom know anything about George – nor will they ever know anything. I’m not sharing this man. This will be my hotel sex story.
I can only describe our proper reunion once we got back to the room as like two creatures who’ve lived among aliens for so long, finally reuniting with a familiar, someone recognisable. Thus, we were spurred on to be our entire, true selves, like we’d never been before.
He drank the leavings of himself from my body and didn’t let up for an hour, my body naked as his remained clothed. I was thrown around the bed so he could drink and suck and lick me from all angles, his hands urgent on my body as he plied me over and over again.
The fucking was relentless and wild. It went on forever, and like a dream, we floated for hours and hours. A delirium like no other. That scent of his, woody and salty. The firmness of his body against mine. The perfect way he’d kissed me then, still the same now.
He devoured my rosebud before filling me with lube. He plastered the front of my body to the hotel-room window while he fucked me up the bum, for anyone to see as he hammered into me like I was his perfect slut. I was constantly drenched all night, and I would sleep for a minute or two before he’d slip his fingers into me again, his lazy explorations, his lazier kisses demanding that I eventually explode and scream for him, loudly.
Having dealt with the initial frenzy last night, something different remains this morning as I wake. I find it funny how he looks so different in sleep, so much less the animal he was just a few hours ago. All I wake with are loving thoughts, not so much the carnal, irrepressible sexual yearnings that I had last night – to be broken open, eaten alive, devoured and made to feel like I didn’t even belong to myself anymore. No, this morning, things are different for some reason.
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Nearly thirteen years ago, he ended it with me and broke my heart. He thought I should go and find someone more suitable – and the notion he didn’t want me enough to overcome any hurdle was too much for me to bear.
I let him go, too.
Never again, however.
This morning I wake feeling reborn, rejuvenated and alive. I never want this feeling to end. I will do everything in my power to keep him, love him, secure him.
Starting with showing him just how much I want him, need him, have to have him.
***
The day seems to dawn all at once, but as I open my eyes slightly, I realise she’s awake and just opened the curtains. I catch sight of her silhouette and smile to myself. It wasn’t all a dream. My cock and balls ache from fucking longer and harder than I ever did before. It really happened, she’s really here, and yeah, I fucking love her.
I’m not sure what’s happening at first as I continue to regain myself, but the sudden sensation of her silken hair tickling my thighs sends a bunch of signals to my brain, telling me to prepare for more of the same. Yet I find my senses completely fried the moment she hoovers my awakening dick into her mouth. How does she do this to me?
“Oh, darling, ohhhh,” I groan, as it dawns on me, she’s found her way to me under the covers and is licking me awake.
I’m filling her mouth in no time because my impulse reaction is to satisfy her. She wants me badly and I want her even more than that. The hungry way she sucks sends my pulse rocketing and the heat of her mouth devours both my body and soul, because it’s her, my love.
Even though I have a thick stem she takes me right back, stretching her hand around the girthy root of me. She appreciates everything about me and I feel the same way about her. Including the way she still seems to want me whenever, wherever. Could it be like this forever?
I hear her swallow down the precum I’m releasing before she sweeps her tongue back over my tip, wanting more. How can a man feel like this, with the same woman he’s known a thousand times before? Even with all the time that has passed?
She was right when she called me a fool last night. I was. But this was our hotel sex story.
“Oh god, you’re amazing, baby,” I say trembling, like a lovesick teenager.
As much as I’m enjoying her tongue, hand and mouth, I need more.
Throwing the covers away, I beckon her to kiss me and I get to look at her eyes and see the same desire she had all those years ago. Fuck, the same! I want to fill her up immediately but she doesn’t want that. She wants to take her time savouring my cock some more because she knows I do enjoy some good pleasure delay. I watch her worshipping me and I see her intent, her message: she doesn’t want it to be over this time. Well baby, neither do I.
When she leaps up and onto me, her kisses make me lose my mind and when she swallows me into her little pussy, it takes everything in me not to come.
In fact, I think it’s even better than before if that’s possible. She’s got a look in her eye I never saw back then. Confidence. She knows what she wants. She’s in the moment this time. Life has taken her on a journey that’s taught her a lot, I would imagine.
Fifteen years ago when we first met, Toni was just a twenty-year-old girl. It lasted two years. Twenty-four months. Barely a day went by back then that we didn’t fuck, but that was never the problem. It was me. I didn’t believe she was mine. I still don’t. I let her go, a girl. Now, she’s a woman – she’s even more incredible than I could have possibly imagined.
Between the epic fuck sessions last night, she told me she recently divorced – and has two young children. I never wanted children, but that wasn’t why we split up. She was young and I was her first love. I thought I didn’t deserve to be her last. I was saving myself the inevitable trauma (or so I thought). Our age difference was so stark then, it didn’t seem right for me to deny her life experience.
She takes her pleasure from me and I take mine from her, sucking her beautiful big titties, even more lovely than before. I love her ass and how wet she is for me, so juicy as she rocks over my big cock, riding me like the little slut she is.
Yet she has the ability to take my breath away, just the way she looks at me sometimes, with all that desire and love, the way she obviously still trusts me… since we’re fucking bareback, even last night, when I filled her teeny ass with ounces of lube and made her scream my name, over and over.
Yet all that kind of pales in comparison to this morning, now we’re sweeter, softer, reconnecting with one another, taking it slower. Making love. I grab hold of her curves and hold her as she kisses me longingly, her chest pressed to mine as we rock tenderly towards one another.
I have always loved making women come, but nobody more so than Toni, just to see her naturally beautiful breasts shiver, feel her tight pussy rhythmically clamp around me, again and again, her juices flowing continuously. I love to see her smile and cry out, say my name and beg for more.
This morning, it’s about her. It’s about her using me, showing me how she can get her rocks off without me pounding her senseless. She’s a mature woman now and so much different, so much a goddess, she knows exactly how to use my cock for her own pleasure. She feels so fucking good, her skin like pristine ivory silk, her curves so bountiful I can hardly hold on. I want to spunk over every inch of her. We’re going to break this bed the way she’s bouncing on me, and I’m going to suck her entire breast into my mouth, trying to devour the beauty of her gorgeous tits.
I know when she’s close and we kiss deeply, grinding together with so little thrusting, her clit rubbing against the base of my cock. My hands are tight around her ass to force myself as deep into her as I can go, stretching her entrance with my girthy base to the point where I’m nearly blacking out, I don’t know about her.
Sitting up with her, Toni’s first big orgasm arrives and she’s shaking like she just got zapped, clutching me nearly to orgasm – but I delay it, because that’s me. I get pleasure out of watching a woman cry out and shake her titties in my face as she rides my thick stem.
When we kiss after her orgasm, it’s loving, intimate. We stare into one another’s eyes, wanting more than just this great fucking. We want to be together. We want to be close and share everything.
She tips her head back savouring every moment of this little intermission, our bodies still joined, but only slowly moving together. I focus on the expression on her face rather than the ache in my thighs and butt, the electricity in my balls waiting to be unleashed. I can ride that for her. I can hold on just to see her come again and again.
We try doggy next because she told me last night her husband wasn’t sexual and never did her doggy, though she believes being filled excessively to be one of life’s simplest joys. She’d had to buy herself a dildo with a sucker on it and attach it to the tiled wall in the shower cubicle to be able to replicate it… and even then, it wasn’t the same. That’s why I’m fucking her like this again even though we’re both exhausted and I’m getting sore. I need her to know I’m never going to deny her, no matter what. She clings to me, reaching back for kisses, because she knows just what it is I’m trying to communicate. Getting carried away, I reach around for her clit and feel as she tightens a little, juicing even more.
“Your pussy will never not be wet now,” I mutter in her ear, and she grins, her eyes shining.
I fuck her in long strokes, digging in deep until she comes, her slick even wetter. It’s too good to miss so I withdraw and lean down, licking through her crack, the taste of her so sweet. I remind her of last night by kissing her tight rosebud, licking too, then easing my tongue in just a little. She groans with feral delight and I decide here and now, this is the only woman I want to fuck from this day forward.
She lies flat on her stomach and I fuck her a little more from behind, not so deeply as before, but because she’s so hypersensitive, she takes me so beautifully and it’s so good, I so very nearly come and have to withdraw.
We switch positions because if we don’t, I am going to come, but even missionary, it seems,is making it very hard for me to deny myself. She’s so very wet and trembling around me, we’re kissing so deeply and her soft, supple tits have me wild with desire, pressed so tight to my chest. The way she’s looking at me begs me to come. Eventually I have to withdraw again or I will fucking come and I just want to keep making her scream until she can’t handle it anymore.
Licking her pussy is hardly a hardship but she also said that was something her husband did maybe once or twice a year. What is it with some men? She deserves to be licked at least twice a day.
The taste of her is like peaches and cream, she’s so fucking sweet! I can’t get enough, stabbing my tongue into her entrance, then wildly licking her clit again.
The sight of her naked and splayed for me, playing with her tits, her feminine form sprawled and at my mercy… who wouldn’t sacrifice themselves every single fucking day for this?
The way she lifts herself off the bed to offer her body to me sends me wild with desire, nearly coming as I press my cock into the mattress. I have one finger swirling inside her and my mouth is fastened around her clitoral area, tongue flicking, mouth sucking… until she floods my mouth with her pussy juice, shaking all over.
Legs spread wide for me, even after she’s come, I kiss her cunt like I kiss her mouth and she wriggles her hips, the signal she’s ready for her finale and wants mine, too.
But I still want more. More of this fucking hotel sex story.
We touch each other’s bodies as I fuck her with one of her legs tossed over my shoulder. I flick her clit occasionally, grasp her big titties and kiss her throat. She enjoys one small orgasm after another, her body having reached peak arousal, so she’d keep coming all day if I wanted her to, because she’s got to the point where she’s so sensitive, it’s unstoppable.
“George,” she gasps, and it’s said in such a way, I know she’s ready.
She used to love it when I’d lie nearly all my weight on her and bone her deeply, so that’s what I start doing, forcing all of myself into her tight little pussy, making sure I graze her clit with my public bone at the same time. I also do that thing she used to love – having her neck French kissed – and she begs for me to keep going, panting because she’s ready.
It’s so fucking sweet to hear her release a high-pitched cry as she begins to shake, shudder and clutch around me with multiple fucking rhythmic pulses. Even with my weight on her, she shakes violently as she releases with one, long scream, her body finally finding utter ecstasy, her legs wrapped around me so tight to hold me deep inside her.
I’m concentrating so much throughout I don’t have time for my own delight – but that’s more than okay.
It’s coming.
“Do you wanna see what you do to me, baby?”
She nods, even as she’s still recovering herself.
I fuck her with no thought for her now, just myself, using her slippery wet, hot channel for my engorged, desperate dick to find comfort, riding her with no encumbrance whatsoever.
She begs me with her eyes to come and I withdraw just before I do, so she can see, just how much I still have for her, even after all this time. Just how much an old fool like me can still find just for her. My explosion is so desperate. The relief I find is extraordinary, the release of all the tension in my body coming out through my one tiny hole, spewing like lava.
I give her a kiss of appreciation and she kisses me back, needing me just as much as I need her. She lies languidly as I stroke her body, kiss her nipples and her chest.
She’s mine again.
The End
Read all about the wonderful author: Sarah Michelle Lynch
Very Well Done!!! Delicious!!!
Hot Hot Hot !
Great Story. Please Anna can you invite George Uhl to shoot more scenes like this. His romantic Boy/Girl scene are so good