Not a Second Wasted [MF, oral, sensual]

I knew a comfortable existence in the bounds of my relationship until, like a surge of rushing water, it was all swept away. I had tolerated the drizzle of negligent behavior for eight years, looking forward to the days were his disposition was sunny. Not to say mine hadn’t been glum that last year or two. I should have done the right thing and left.

Barely a fledgling out of my parents house, I meant Ronni my second semester of college. There was instant compatibility, the kind forged doing something you hate. Catharsis, I think it is called. The two of us shoveling out our cars after they had been covered by mountains of snow.

He saw me at my worst, cursing, flushed red skin, smudge mascara and a runny nose. I had my pajama bottoms shoved into a pair of tube socks from my years prior playing softball. Ronni had come to my defense, flipping the snow off as it continued to flutter down from thick grey skies. I went on to learn that when he got frustrated driving that it helped if I would join in his persistent cursing of the driver in front of him.

Attached, after eight years of holidays spent at each other’s parents, apartments shared, a dog owned, two moves to drastically different cities. Enough fights and even more sleepy exchanges of adoration cuddling in sheets we bought with the money from our first office jobs. He’d reached a hand around my shoulder and grip my full breast. Attached.

When it ended it was tearing trees from the ground. It was ripping roofs off buildings. It splintered and broke my heart.

I needed it to.

Seven months later, bundled in the layers northern winds demanded, I had my gloveless hands shoved into pockets as I navigated the streets of a once familiar city. Having taken a job at the university I’d once attended, I waded through a crowd of students, trying to reach my friend at the bar.

“Forgot my fucking gloves,” I complained as I reached Juliet, beginning to unbutton my jack and hook it just under the bar, hanging my purse up, followed by my hat. I ran frozen fingers through my blonde hair before sitting. “So, interesting choice.”

“Back to our roots.”

“That would be the coffee shop across town.”

“They don’t serve these there,” she said with a flash of her pearly whites, highlighted by red lipstick. She sloshed ice around in her glass with her straw. “I order you one already. No thanks needed.”

“I’m not thanking you for bringing me to a bar where students are. Students who know me.”

“Not like you’re their professor. You’re an administrator.”

I accept the drink in front of me, a signature cocktail of the Rudy’s. It had a siren call after all these years. “Tell me, how’s the new job?”

“As good as advertising can be.”

“Not the right slipper, then,” I mused.

“Not the right foot.”

“Try the left,” I chirped, feeling better after only a few sips.

“Funny.” Juliet tugged at her high ponytail, dark hair flowing down slender shoulders and a few strands framing her tanned face. Her dark eyes clashed with mine. It was unspoken that we never brought up Ronni, not after how it ended. I was still just getting used to sleeping alone. “You met anyone funny lately?”

“Not looking for anyone funny.”

“Or anyone at all.”

“There is no rule I have to be with someone,” I defend.

She held up a hand. Around her finger was an engagement band. “I know. I’m speaking only of transition. I want you to get there.”

“To get to where you are with seating charts and bouquets. Please, Jules. I did that. I planned that. It didn’t happen. I want to be single.” I pleaded, a formidable ache spreading underneath my rib cage. Not even Rudy’s sparkling sangria could fix it.

Not even two more could hide the truth. Tonight, I’d go home alone. Lonely. There was no gradient that took you from together to single, yet somehow the transition seemed as grey as the skies Ronni and I stood under when we met.

Juliet took the train back to her fiancé. I watched it accelerate until it was a flickering light in the distance.

“Mable, Mae Holloway?” A gravelly voice provoked me to jump as it sprung from the dark of an empty platform.

A hand clutched to my chest as I spun around. The figure stood only a few inches taller than I, broad shoulders and a hat pulled low to hide a thick brow. Even with the addition of a short trimmed beard I knew the glint of those eyes. “Poetry Boy.”

“That was for one class. Hold it against me for the rest of my life, why don’t you. Good to see you, even though you don’t remember my name.” He swept me into a hug, a thing he had never done before when we were in college.

“Zachary Rose,” I ended up whispering against his neck.

“There we go.” He let me go.

We ended up walking back through the University grounds as I cut through on my way home. The air biting my cheeks and finding a way to my fingers and toes.

“Sweet of you to visit her, even if you’ve been crashing on her floor. Sweeter that she got your old room,” I console after Zach told me he was in town to visit his sister at the university. We lingered before the dormitory.

“Not sweet. Not sweet at all. You roomed on the other side of that wall. You know what I did in that bed.” He flustered, mentioning his several partners.

A rosy red swell of heat burned inside me, however. I knew what he had been doing, and safely, secretly, on the other side of the wall I would rocking my fingers against my clit until I came from the sounds of Zach primally fucking. Ronni didn’t have to know.

Neither did Zach. Three drinks said otherwise. “Trust me, you were better than porn some nights.”

“Oh, really. Little miss barely made a sound with what’s his face – Ron, right?”

“Ronni. And if I barely made a sound, how did you know we were doing anything,” I countered.

“You made enough sound when you were by yourself. He actually making you scream these days?” His grin reached his pale green eyes. Had he been stroking his cock, listening to me on nights I thought I was all alone? It was devilish to think we had done the same thing.

Strangers weren’t allowed to bring Ronni up either, but with only decent intentions, Zach spoke of him and, oddly, it didn’t hurt to answer. “No, we’ve split. What about you?”

Zach groaned, “Not in the cards for me, least not now. Dated a girl for two years about a year back. Stings still.”

His confession was a remedy.

“I get it. Seven months for me. It’s messy.” And my frozen hands were the final say, wanting to escape the cold. “My place is a little messy, but I have a couch.”

“And a bed.”

“Yeah, and I’ve not made any real noises in it for a while.” I’m biting the bottom of my lip, but by the time we’re crashing through my front door, Zach was nibbling on it.

Hot, exaggerated breaths tangled between us as we continued to kiss through my dark apartment. We hit a wall and he grabbed my ass, pulling me into him. Next, a kitchen chair, and he lifted me easily, setting me on the table as our fingers thawed and worked furiously to undress from the layers. Even after the effort of expending coats and boots, his hands were cold when they slid over my hips.

“Sorry,” he muttered.

“Don’t be. Or else I’ll have to be,” I replied as I slipped my hands under his shirt, feeling the texture of his chest hair, flowing down and under the hem of his pants.

“You don’t have to…never be sorry for touching me.” He kissed me again until it was time to pull my shirt over my head. Bra sheer, pale pink and hard nipples showing through. He cupped a heavy breast, sending zings of arousal between my thighs – it had been too long . “I wanted you to all senior year.”

“I wanted you too,” I admitted fluidly, the barrier of hesitation dismantled by our similar desires. “Couldn’t have you.”

That would have been cheating. And I only almost did that once.

I moved my lips past his beard, down his neck as I worked to undo the belt that held his jeans up, hand grazing the hard cock waiting for me. It took him a minute to realize there was no hook for my bra, and I pull away with a smirk before lifting it over my head. Shadows play against my pale skin, and a now heated hand meets my breast. Follow by a hotter mouth as I lean back against my table.

“Oh god. Oh god…” I moan, my hand running through his dark hair, giving it a little tug as he braves giving me a concentrated suck directly around the nipple, causing it to turn red and puffy as he pulled away. He moved to the other and made them matching.

His beard prickled along my skin, moving between my breasts and toward my navel. I’d never known I wanted to be kissed there, the action a prelude to an act I never received. My back arched as I leaned back on my arms. I felt his fingers undo the button of my jeans and I lifted my hips so he could slide the material down my legs.

He left my panties on, the blue cotton soaked between the thighs I kept spread. His thumb pressed into the material, rubbing the length of my pussy. The touch sparked excitement, causing me to ache as he pulled the material to the side. I felt his breath against my thigh.

“You don’t have to.”

“I want to,” he rumbled, tongue lapping along my slick lips.

He pulled the first true cry from my lips, and subsequent others as his tongue flicked and sucked. It shouldn’t have been such a new sensation. I couldn’t believe he was doing this. Couldn’t believe he had his face buried between my folds, tongue sinking into me. Vibrations rolled through me as he hummed his delight and I showed mine by the drenching of his jaw with my wetness. His hand seized around my supple hip, pulling me forward to continue this vibrant exploration until I was gasping and clutching my chest.

The shuddering feeling stopped short of completion. Zach appeared with a glint in his eyes as he lifted his head, licking his lips and his hands smoothing up my bare back. “You taste better than I imagined. Not that I’ve actually imagined you *recently*.”

“Lower expectations. I like it.” I smile up at him, missing the attention between my legs. “You should really take your shirt off, and your pants, and your socks.”

“And my socks?”

“Problem?”

Zach was shaking his handsome head, lips dipping down to catch mine in soft kiss. “Not at all,” he whispered before peeling his shirt over his head and disrobing as he maneuvered to the bedroom with some direction. I watched his tight ass, enjoying the build of his body as he strode in front of me. There was some confidence there, and it was shared as I walked in completely naked after him, leaving my panties in the hallway and my unshaven sex fully exposed.

The kissing started again, only this time I had plenty of chest to explore, even gripping his strong thigh at one point when he lowered me onto my half-made bed. My other hand inevitably found its way to his cock, curious to find him uncut. It made little difference in my approach, fingers warm now and working up and down his length.

His own hand explored, a single finger running the length of my wet, pink lips before pushing just past to find my clit. We made contented noises at the same time, both on our sides, face one another.

“I haven’t done this in a while,” He whispered. It was the first glimmer of nerves I noticed in him.

“Me neither, not since…”

“Yeah, not since.” He was gentle with my nub, rubbing circles around it as his lips found mine and our foreheads touched. Gradually, he rolled on top of me, an unspoken request between us to save our initial reawakening into pleasure for when his throbbing cock stretched me for the first time in months.

The weight of him covering me, I missed it, finding comfort in the closeness. Arousal, in the brush of his hard cock along my wet lips. Fullness, when he angled the fat head past my entrance and closed all space between us.

My back arched, pressing full breasts into his chest as we bypassed foreplay. He took this opportunity to wrap his arm around my back, cradling me close as he used his full length to pull out and push back in.

“You feel good.”

“So do you,” he grunted, pushing to his deepest and feeling my sex grip him tightly.

I spread my legs wider for him, hooking my them over his once a rhythm had been set. He rocked forward, and with a hand on my hip, guided me into each thrust. It made my toes curl. Zach used the power of his hips to keep building the swelling feeling between my legs, the bed squeaking as his knees pummeled into the springs.

My voice rose and hands clasped along his back. I found myself whispering his name against his neck again, “Zach…Zach….Zach…”

“Yeah, gonna cum….I really wanna make you cum,” he panted, hot breaths against my shoulder. Kisses left against my skin.

The approach of our climaxes was paired with an increase in his speed, taking me that much more urgently as my pussy contracted around his thick cock.

“You’re going to make me…,” I assured him just as he pushed me over the edge and my hips, which had been grinding upwards, seized off the bed. The freedom of cumming overtook me with a series of nearly soundless cries and heavy breathing.

He was quick to follow, his arms straining as he kept himself buried deep, filling me with rope after rope of his seed. The relief on his face was immediate, though it was soon buried in my neck – and followed by a worried groan. “Should have worn a condom. You good?”

“All covered,” I told him, stroking the back of his neck and over his shoulder blades with gentle sweeps of my fingers.

“Good.”

“It was good.”

“Wasn’t it?” He asked, lifting himself up, his manhood slipping from my sex as he rolled onto his side. “Even if it wasn’t very long. Sorry.”

“Stop being sorry.” I reached a hand between my legs and felt the smear of my release and his, fingers coming away slick after stroking my swollen, used slit a few times. I wiped them on my side, turning into Zach who rest his hand over my hip, not minding that it was a little soft. “I needed it.”

“Me too. I just wasn’t ready.”

“Until I was, well, until we were,” I finished for him. “You know, ready. I guess.”

“You were still quiet,” he said gently.

“Maybe that’s just who I am. Quiet. I don’t, uh, I don’t really know. I’ve never figured it out. I wasted eight years-”

“Wasted? That seems harsh. Just cause it ended badly doesn’t mean it was wasted. Beth ripped my heart out but those two years, don’t regret a thing.”

“I do. I feel like I’ve missed everything.”

“Funny, I feel like I didn’t have enough time. Didn’t appreciate the seconds. Won’t do that again, if I get it,” he mused and ran his hand up my spine to pull me a bit closer as he enjoyed the aftermath.

She found she enjoyed it too, the stringless, unattached closeness. “I think I’m going to take advantage of the ones I missed.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“Like this. You and me, we could have had these seconds.”

“There are a lot of would have, could have, should haves in life.”

“And I’m going to find them,” I decide. “All the would haves and could haves, yet didn’ts. I’m going back for all my seconds.”

“All of them, that’s quite the declaration.” He gave me a smirk, not judging what I was suggesting.

“You just said the same thing.”

“I’m a hard worker.”

“And I’m not? I can work very, very hard.” I proved my point by straddling Zach’s wide frame. Between my legs was tender, but, I wanted more. After a bit of grinding, Zach was ready again. He helped guide himself back inside me, moving to grip my ass.

“Fuck, you get me hard…always have,” he stated with a pleased grin.

An actual light chuckled rose up from inside me as I looked down on his rather handsome face. “That’s a very, very good thing,” I leveled, then I showed him just how much I enjoyed every last inch of him. I was going to enjoy these seconds and every single one I took back.

Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/bc1p3z/not_a_second_wasted_mf_oral_sensual