How we got back together. [FM]

It’s a hot summer day and I can feel his eyes on me from across the room.

I’m wearing this black dress with white roses printed all over it. The fabric is thin, and it stops way above my knees, high enough to reveal the birth mark I have on my thigh. My hair used to go all the way down to my waist, but having recently cut it short it now reaches my shoulders, but just barely. I can tell by the way he stares that he likes the change. I’ve been feeling anxious for a while now and I must admit that he does bring a smile to my lips, as always. Being desired by him sends a chill down my spine in the msot wonderful way possible. I steal a glance at him afetr a while; he’s sitting at the bar, taking a drag from his cigarette, wearing a suit and looking handsome as ever; The jacket is missing though, and the leeves of his shirt are rolled up to his elbows. His blond hair is a mess, sticking up on all sides. When his eyes meet mine he smirks and I shake my head, look down at my own drink and pretend not to care. We go way back. He was the first man I’ve ever been with.

I was 20, he was 32 back then. Despite the age difference, he treated me with utmost respect and oh god, he made me feel adored in every way possible. Stayed together for 2 years and I left him when my own problems made me grow restless. The thought going on in my head at the time was: if we both suck at relationships, this is going to end any time soon. Better end now and spare us the suffering. And because I was a moron, there was suffering anyway.

Now at 24 and 36, we met each other again a month ago. We’ve been talking and flirting ever since. Shared a kiss. He still tastes like nicotine and beer and his stubble stills scratches my skin and I still love every bit of it. Being togetehr at this bar, however, is a coincidence. I know he likes it but didn’t expect he’d be here too. Not at this hour. I don’t know what I want, but I pay my tab and as I’m heading out, I turn to look at him. He observes, still smoking, still smirking like a bastard. Outside the night is cool, the air is chill, but the residual warmth of the day lingers heavily in the air. I’m glad I’m wearing this dress. I walk ahead on the sidewalk a total of four steps and then I lean on the wall and wait for him. There’s no one else around except for a couple coming down the street. I tell myself if he doesn’t show up in 30 seconds, I’ll leave. But before I even have time to think about counting, he’s out of the bar, looking for me. When he does find me right by his side he smiles, shakes his head. He’s so tall he towers over me. He wants to know why I didn’t just go to him at the bar. I want to tell him that it’d been way too easy, but I don’t say anything. I shrug and reach out for him. The second his hand grabs mine I feel completely at his mercy. Safe, needed. We walk back to my apartment, he’s striking up conversation as we go, I’m listening.

He makes me smile every now and then and gives my hand a gentle squeeze. We reach my apartment, finally, and inside we waste no time. I lock the door and turn to him and he’s about to say something but I throw my arms around his neck, my lips crashing upon his.

I’ve missed him so much that it’s hard not to let it show. I feel him smiling into the kiss before deepening it, his arms around my waist, lifting me off the floor a little. I draw back to catch my breath, he snakes a hand up to cup my face.

“Eager, are we?” he asks me, all smug about it. I nod. Why lie? I feel him stiffining against me which suits the situaton perfectly, I’m already getting wet from just a taste of his kiss. I press harder against him, my lips on his once more, he grunts at the feeling and stumbles backwards, his back hitting the wall lightly. When he realizes how much I want him, he slides his hands down my thighs and lifts me up as if I’m made of paper.

Somewhere in the middle of the kiss he turns around, so I’ve got my back agaisnt the wall now.

I wrap my legs around his waist and slide a hand down his torso, reaching his cock. I palm him though his pants, he moans into the kiss, he’s rock hard now and I can’t deny just how proud I feel right then. But he manges to hold my wrist and as we come back for air, his eyes lock on mine. We’re both panting.

He lets go of my wrist and his hand finds its way between my legs. He returns the favor touches me through my panties, but he’s not as patient as I am and so he pushes them aside slightly to touch me, his finger cicrcling my pretty little hole, slipping inside as he grins. “So wet for me already, love.” I close my eyes at the sensation, his voice ringing in my ear, the way he calls me love. I ask him please, but he slips his finger out of me.

Before I can protest he’s got his mouth on my neck, teeth sinking in my flesh lightly and then he’s sucking at it. He drags his lips to my ear, licks the shell. “Please what?” he asks in a whisper and I don’t know where I am anymore.

“You’re aching for me, aren’t you?” I nod helplessly, seeking his mouth, his touch, his everything.

He sets me down, my knees are weak, he captures my mouth, his tongue on mine, hands sneaking up under my dress, fingers twsiting the waistband of my panties and pulling them down. I raise my leg to help him and soon his own leg is between mine, spreading mine apart. He trails kisses all over my neck, my chest, cups my breasts and then he gets on his knees. He slides an arm under my right leg and prompts me to raise it so I can rest it on his shoulder. I feel his tongue on my cunt, giving it a sweet lick, and I throw my head back at the sensation. He explores every part of me, I’m so wet it’s driving me insane, and when he focuses on my clit, starts swirling his tongue around it, I bury my hand on his hair, grabbing a fistful of it.

He doesn’t stop, tastes me all over, gets me hotter and wetter, makes me scream and moan his name. He laps, sucks, teases, I start to tremble, I’m right on the edge.

And that’s when he stops.

My chest is rising and falling fast, I can’t seem to breathe, and he comes back up to me, makes me taste myself on his tongue and then tugs at my hips. I know what he wants, but I think it’s only fair I get a taste too. I get him to take off his shirt and tie, and then I start working on unzipping his pants. He watches me as I reach inside his boxers and pull his cock out; he’s big and hard and throbbing in my hands. I start stroking him slowly, he groans, places his left hand on the wall behind me for support while his right one cups my face. I look up at him, lick my botom lips, he smiles down at me, bares his teeth.

“Such a gorgeous sight,” he says and I grin before taking him in my mouth. I know exactly what he likes, what he wants, so I let him go down far enough to hit the back of my of my throat. I close my lips around his cock tightly, then I draw my head back and let my tongue slide on the underside of his cock. He hisses and throws his head back, the hand that’s cupping my face moves to the back of my head, his finegrs grabbing strands of it. He keeps me there, rolls his hips forward tentatively; I let him take control.

The rhythm is all his, and I move my head in accordance to it. He slides in and out of my mouth, and my eyes start to water as a gag around his length. That’s when he stops, slips out, lets me breathe, caresses the back of my head and then helps me up. I’m still winded, cheeks are flushed, lips are swollen. But I smile in the middle of a quick kiss, and then he’s whispering in my ear.

“Turn around, love,” he says and god, his voice. His voice makes me melt. I do as he says, can’t help but smile wide as he prompts me to raise my hips. He lifts my dress, holds his cock, grabs my hair and slides into me in one hard thrust, presses me further up against the wall and buries himself inside me to the hilt. He grunts, burying his face on my neck and I close my eyes to appreciate it better. He doesn’t move for a moment, lets me feel him completely. When he starts to move he doesn’t go slow, but he’s holding back, I know he is.

As if he wants to savor the moment.

I roll my hips back to try and match his and when I do, he lets go of my hair and wraps his hand around my neck. I can’t do much, I’m trapped and I don’t mind, I’m still riled up from his tongue, I’m still drowning in need, lost in his scent mixing up with mine, lost in the smallest sesantions: he’s pulling me back, the way he thrusts into me, the way he knows my body, knows that I’m this close to begging, but he teases me first, oh, he gives my neck a gentle squeeze, pounds into me and then stays still again. “Tell me what you want.” I don’t know how I find my voice, but I beg him, I tell him I want his cock, I want to come, I want it harder and he complies, pounds into me. He moves his hips back enough to almost slip out and come back with a jarring thrust. I feel that first wave hitting me, I start clenching all around his cock, he grunts and moans. “Come for me, love, come for me,” he says, and it’s like a trigger. I don’t even have to touch myself, I’ve been hovering just above the edge and with a few more thrusts I’m a trembling mess in his arms, squeezing tight around his cock. It doesn’t take much for him after that. He knows what I want, knows what I like. His thrusts lose any semblance of a rhythm and then he goes still, comes inside me. I lose my balance but he holds me. My face is now pressed against the wall, his torso is glued on my back, his softening cock slipping out of me. He turns me around, I can’t stop shaking, his kiss is sloppy but sweet. He places his forehead on mine. I joke that we didn’t even make it to the bed. He smiles, says we can go there later.

His comment calms my heart a bit but I only feel relief when I find myself still in his arms the next morning.

Source: reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/7v422j/how_we_got_back_together_fm