A true story about one last encounter with a former flame.
J: You look really good. Even though you're with him. He would send me messages randomly and it was truly the only reason I've kept the same phone number all these years. I quickly deleted the message from my phone before my new husband could see. That’s when I saw J walking towards us. My heart sunk with each step. I motioned to the Mr. that there was going to be an awkward introduction coming. J stopped at our table. and I was silent as they greeted each other. There was no way he didn’t instantly know who he was – my Jon Hamm doppelgänger of an ex-lover.
I started getting insulted when he offered his hand to me, all dry and English slow. He read my face and extended his arms as I stood up. I was in 4-inch Louboutins and he still towered over me. I leaned into him, just enough to catch the scent of Marlboro Lights on his collar. It made my mouth water and sent me back every encounter we had. He would always show up at my door with a cigarette in his mouth which made me instantly drop to my knees for him. He loved to savor the last of it with his cock deep in my throat. Sometimes, I would finish him off before the drag burned out which made it extra delicious to kiss him with a mouth full of cum combined with his smoky breath.
I shook away the memories and in an attempt to cool myself down, I grabbed my glass and started sucking on the last of the ice. They babbled on with their small talk and the Mr. finally left to the bathroom. Now that we were alone, J pulled me in tightly. I could feel his calloused fingers through my dress.
“He doesn’t know. And just to be clear, we haven’t seen each other in years,” I pleaded with him in my best <em>please don’t fuck this up for me<em> stare. It really had been two years since he left his watch at my place during what was meant to be our last night together. He claimed to leave it as a token to always have a reason to see me. We had two more last nights together before I donated his watch, moved in with the Mr., and spent way too much money on a wedding I don’t remember quite as vividly as one night with J.
He started tracing his fingertips along the inside of my arm, dragging them down to my wrist and all the way to my ring. “Impressive,” he said mockingly. “I think it’ll be more impressive if it were covered with your cum.” The cumslut in me always manages to creep out in the boldest way possible that would make any nymphomaniac blush. He smirked and I spat out the same line he said to me years ago, “Smack your lips all you want, but I’d be lying if I said I haven’t been missing you too.”
When the Mr. returned, I shifted away from J. Even though I have picked up men for threesomes before, he would never approve of this given our history. I motioned for us to head to the patio for a smoke. Right in front of my new husband, J did his signature move, lighting two cigs in his mouth and handing me one. I shook my head and told him I don’t smoke Marlboro Lights anymore. Realizing my pack of menthols were left in another bag, I asked my poor husband to check the car. I knew he’d get to the car before realizing they’re not in there, and end up driving around town looking for my special cigarettes. That would buy enough time for a quickie, I think…
My plan was in motion and I asked J to meet me in the bathroom. Common stalls and shared sinks are now a thing in LA and thankfully there was no attendant. It was almost too easy. He recognized my red bottomed soles and barged in. Without even looking me in the face, he turned me around and groped me from behind. “You fucking little tease. You think I won’t fuck you in front of your husband?” He grabbed the back of my neck and I reached to kiss him, but he wouldn’t let me. He hiked up my dress and gave my ass a squeeze to die for.
I pushed back against him, begging for him to take me any way he wanted. He was hard, even through his jeans. He slowly unlocked each agonizing knob of his stupid button fly jeans. Finally, I felt the familiar head brush against me. I reached my left hand to grab him, rolling my ring around so he could feel it. He was throbbing in my hands as I guided him down to my pussy. He finally grabbed my chin and kissed me as he entered me for the last time. I felt myself grip on, savoring every inch. I melted into him by the time he was deep inside me. Ever come in a way that makes you feel like you’ve been turned inside out? This was it. He thrusted his tongue in my mouth harder than he did with his cock. I pushed back into him, determined to fuck him harder. He bit my lip and angrily smacked my ass before pounding me relentlessly.
I reached my left hand back again and begged for him to cover me. He was always ready to unload and this time was no different. As soon as I reached back to tug on my ass, I felt his cum oozing out and hitting the back of my hand. Short but creamy and just enough to play with. I scooped up the remaining with my other hand, shimmied my dress back into place, and played with his cum all over my diamonds, tongueing it and then licking it clean.
I left the stall first and when he came out, our eyes locked in the mirror. Without saying a word, we both knew this was it. The last last time. I’ll never be able to touch, smell, or taste him again. He left and I wandered back outside in my original position, eager to go home and return to a normal life.
Source: reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/3q2hqc/when_shes_breaking_his_heart_she_still_fucks_like
Super hot – thanks for sharing :)