It wasn’t like me to cry. I wiped the tears from my eyes and splashed water on my face. I dried and left the bathroom with the hurt still lingering inside of me.
He came to my door at just the right moment. I hadn’t even bothered to ask why he was there. I had simply grabbed him by the hand and pulled him in. When he tried to speak, I stifled his voice by kissing him passionately. Every time he opened his mouth, I would kiss him again to silence. I didn’t want words spoken that might bring us to our senses. At first his hands had remained at his sides unsure of how to handle the lustful assault. So I took his hands for him. I guided them over my hungry body. It didn’t take long for him to move them all on his own.
The attraction had been there from the beginning – from the first moment we’d met months ago. Friendly smiles and stolen glances were shared across the room. I knew it was mutual, but that didn’t make it right.
“I don’t love you.” I said
“I don’t love you.” He replied while removing his shirt.
“They can never know.” I whispered between nibbles.
He nodded in agreement before burrowing his face between my breasts. I helped him by undoing the buttons.
He had me pressed up against the entryway wall.
He pushed my shirt down my arms, unlatched my bra and dropped it to the floor.
My heart was racing as I opened his belt, unzipped his pants. He was hard and I was growing wet.
“Bed?” He queried anxiously.
“The couch” I panted. The bed was for lovers, for romance and affairs. The couch would be better suited for this one time act of carnage.
He ran his strong hands down to my thighs and lifted me. I wrapped my legs around his waist as he walked us to the living room.
He sat on the couch with me on his lap. He moved his head away from our kissing and held my back while taking in the sight of my topless form. He ran his flat palms up my back and over my shoulders. He ran them over my collarbone and down my sides. I was blushing, but he didn’t seem to notice. His breathing was shallow and I could see that he was restraining himself. His hands met at my navel and then wandered up my ribcage. Slowly he worked to the swell of my breasts. Flat palms against pointed nipples. He watched his movement on my skin as though he’d never known sight before. Instinctively, I began rocking my hips on him. I watched the way his tattoos moved in reaction to his tensing muscles – tribal patterns taking on a primitive dance over his flesh. I had become primitive over him as well. My body performing a seductive dance, causing sweat to break and our hearts to beat like shaman drums. His erection had found it’s way free and was standing out of his boxer-briefs in anticipation.
I lifted onto my knees, my breasts directly in front of his eyes. I removed my jeans without setting foot off of the sofa. He pushed his own jeans down. Before he could make any choice of his own, I had lowered myself fully, taking him into me completely. He groaned and I bit my lip. I began to bounce — feeling every inch of his cock penetrating me fully — again and again and again. Completely out, completely in.
He grabbed my hips and pressed me down. So deep. He held his grip and set my motions. He pumped as I rocked. I leaned back and gripped his knees. His hands were groping my ass, pushing me down over him. I sunk my nails in for support and he thrusted firmer. It hurt and that was exactly what I wanted – punishment for our sin: sweet delicious punishment.
Soon, I was kissing him again, my hands holding the back of his neck as our bodies matched each other. I was coming. My body was trembling even as I continued. I soaked his curly hair with my orgasm. He looked down at our joining bodies and grunted in approval. He raged into me then — so much harder than I even knew possible.
When I felt his body getting closest to release, I slowed. He whimpered beneath me – a pleading sound. I looked into his begging eyes and shook my head in warning. If he used his voice, if he tried to speed the moment, the spell would be broken. I swallowed down my own voice as my pleasured moans pushed for freedom, but I could not risk it. I could not risk sound breaking the trance and opening the door to reality. What we were doing was wrong. It was forbidden and I knew better. But I didn’t want to think. I didn’t want to invite my conscience to this moment. I needed this release — this one wicked deed.
I needed him beneath me as he was. I needed the hard pressing of my thighs. I needed the rocking and the hot breath. I wanted to make it last as long as I could. I knew that once it was over, it would be over forever. I wasn’t ready to let go. We couldn’t surrender just yet.
He tried guiding my hips again, but I took his hands and held them pinned to the wall. I watched his muscled abs as sweat ran down them in droplets. He wasn’t going to fight me. The beast was letting me take charge. I had complete control and he was offering himself to me, but it was getting difficult. My own body was betraying me. My mind was trying to suspend the moment while my body ached for us to peak. I was slowing. My breath was abandoning me. I was too close to fight it. So I did it in little pumps. One thrust. Two thrusts. Oooohh. I couldn’t silence myself anymore. I bellowed a moan like a wild creature’s mating call. My eyes hazed, my skin flushed and I exploded. I poured over him with complete release. I felt his contractions as his fluid joined my own. He emptied himself with little groans. I leaned my forehead to his and wrapped my arms around him. He stroked my hair and we wept together.
Our only time.