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angry scowl, and a mission to find Hilary to fuck the Lana right out of my system.
Hilary was hot, yeah; her body had a way about it. Curvy but thin, big tits, and a nice untouched pussy. We were wild, fucking anywhere we could, anyway she would let me, which was every which way, but still, she couldn’t satisfy my need. A need I couldn’t figure out or understand. Hilary and all the nameless faces I fucked couldn’t get me satisfied, and the mystery ate at me until I made love to Lana. My hunger was fed but never satisfied, because I just wanted more. I was starved for Lana, and still am. She was the palate I acquired a taste for, and I know if tomorrow she and I end, I will never find a meal I’ll want to have more than once, because she is the caviar off all women, the finest wine and the sweetest champagne. She is napalm.
“Kings?”
Moving my arm, I peer up and back, pushing myself up from the couch. “Yeah?”
Staring at Lana only amplifies my guilt. My ex just sent me a nude picture, and I now hold a secret that would most likely give Lana the ammo to push me out entirely.
“Shayla called. She and Trey are coming over for dinner with the twins tomorrow. I just thought I’d let you know before bed. I’m exhausted. I’ll see you in the morning?”
I swallow, hiding the heavy guilt as best as I can from my unsteady voice. “I’m not working tomorrow. So yeah, I’ll be here when you wake up.”
“No gym?”
“No, I’m sore from this morning. I need to relax.” The small talk we’re making feels forced but still I want more of it. I crave that familiarity with Lana.
“All right, night.” Giving me a business nod, like a transaction was made, she leaves. I watch her sexy ass peek out of her nightie as she goes and my dick turns hard, tenting my pajamas.
That’s arousal. I have fucking physical and mental stimulation from the woman so far removed from my life, yet my ex is handing herself to me on a platter and it does nothing. I would never cheat on Lana, but to sit here and say I don’t miss the touch of a fucking woman would be a lie.
I’m a red-blooded man, one who needs that physical affirmation to feel desired, to feel like a king in his kingdom. Lana is dousing that in ice water lately.
I don’t crave the touch of someone else; I just crave the touch from my queen, the touch of love. Needing the ache inside my chest to be relieved or temporarily forgotten, I grab my phone again and open my pictures app. Scanning, I open my private folder. Lana has made me a deprived, desperate man, clutching me by the throat and holding all the cards. I want her.
Scrolling through the folder, I see multiple pictures that Lana and I have either taken or shared, and my favorite is her spread wide open under me. Her bare pussy clear as day, her thighs tiny, and the space between her legs and her core where they meet is stretched and strained. Up on my knees, I tower over her while my cock is nudged perfectly between her snug pussy lips, halfway in, while her hands grab her tits and her face is contorted in a breathtaking look of pain and pleasure.
I whip my cock out, and the heavy head leaks with cum. Circling the pronounced crown, I watch it smear over my angry red shaft as I spread it down, lubing myself up while I stare at the picture. Her creamy tan skin, edible and ripe for me. The memories of what it feels like to be inside her almost tangible, sifting through the air around me, close enough to grab, but impossible to grasp.
My jaw unhinges, falling open as I start to slide slowly up and down, my hand gripping tight. I smell her arousal as if her pussy is right in my face—better yet, grinding on my face—but it’s just a molten need. My balls lay heavy, filled with weeks of pent up arousal, and I imagine blowing inside her, losing all I have in her heaven. My heaven.
Losing my surroundings, the large living room becomes a pit of darkness as I clear everything but Lana out of my head. I pick up the pace as I chase the orgasm she’s having in my fantasy, when I hear a gasp.
“Oh! Oh, I’m so sorry! Shit!”
Dropping my cock and my phone, it tumbles beside me and onto the floor. I grab my sweats and shove my dying erection back in. Sitting up hastily, I place my feet on the ground and look over to Lana. Her hand is over her mouth, her eyes wide, and she stays planted in place.
“Fuck, sorry, I thought you went to bed and, ” I trail off, embarrassed that I’m twenty-six years old and still having to jerk my cock like a pubescent and fucking got caught.
“No, it’s my fault. I just...” She stops, and my flustered eyes scan her face.
“You just what?” I push for her to continue, actually believing she may want to come over to me and let me have her.
“I just wanted water.”
My hope diminishes.
“Oh.” Looking away, I run my hands over the back of my stiff neck, rubbing out the muscles.
“Your neck okay?”
I hadn’t realized I was moving my hand as fast and deep as I was until she pointed it out. “Yeah, just the gym and sleeping on Princeton’s floor hurts my neck. That’s all.”
Dropping her eyes to the hardwood floor, she nods. “I can rub it if you’d like,” She offers, making the conversation as normal as possible, as if she didn’t just catch me with my cock out.
“No, don’t worry. You don’t need to do that, ba—Lana.” I catch myself. Lana wanted me to back the fuck off, so that’s what I’m doing. Her offer further makes me question why she’s trying to negate what she asked me to do last night.
“I really don’t mind, I don’t want your neck hurting.” Pushing me more, she has me debating what to do. I could push her away and let us continue the standoff, or I could let her touch my scorching skin desperate for her affection and feed my gluttony for pain, just for a little bit. I’ll probably regret it, but for this short moment, I will bask in it.
