Long, heady nights of pleasure, delirious and overwhelming. I took every inch of you over and over again. I came while you railed me, pulsing around your cock, trembling in your arms.
Your eyes would get so dark, cruel and determined. I made it my mission to push you over the edge as many times as I could like it was revenge.
You pushed me back. We fell into something so deep, we had no hope of ever getting out. We thought if we ignored it, it would go away. It only got deeper.
Something between us was so reactive, we’d stoke it a little and act surprised when we were consumed by the flames. Our bodies seemed designed to drive each other crazy. Your lips and tongue on my pussy, my back arching, mindless ecstasy. The only relief was to feel you inside of me, fucking me like you owned me. Slapping my ass and pulling my hair. Your name coming out of me in gasps and moans.
I’d do anything you wanted. Any fantasy you had, I was ready to make it real. We were each other’s drug of choice.
Nostalgia is a bitch, and so am I. Not much has changed.
Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/rrma8c/nostalgia_is_a_bitch_mf_nsfw