A tiny smile slides over her mouth. “I’m very happy here, with you.”
She unlocks her thighs and slowly spreads her legs, exposing her cunt, slick and swollen from our rough lovemaking, the bud of her clit still engorged. I nearly fall to my knees at the sight, but I don’t move.
“I want you to worship me,” she says, her voice all sensual allure as she trails her fingers down her stomach, through theneat strip of hair at the apex of her thighs, and through her slick lips. “Come here,” she says, beckoning me.
I take slow steps towards her, knowing I’ll replay this scene in my head until the day I die.
“You don’t tell me what to do,” I mutter, knowing I’d do whatever the fuck she asked of me.
Her pretty pink lips pucker as she restrains a smile, and her fingers dip into her entrance. “God, I’m so wet. You make me so—”
I drop to my knees with an unrestrained growl, taking position at the end of the bed, grabbing her thighs and pulling her towards me. With a squeal, she loses her balance as her legs lock over my shoulders, and I find myself face-to-face with her pussy.
I bury my face in it, my tongue slipping deep into her wet cunt, savouring the taste of her. Her mewls and moans are an erotic chorus I’ll never get enough of. I plant one hand on her stomach to stop her wriggling as she thrashes on the sheets, and the other, I slide under her arse to angle her pussy into my mouth.
I don’t know about worship, but I am fucking feasting on this woman. I never want to stop. I tease her clit with the tip of my tongue, feeling it swell and harden.
“Oh, God, Oh, oh, shit… don’t stop,” she calls out, and I suck her clit and slide two fingers into her cunt, which pulls me in and pulses around my knuckles. Fuck, she isripe.
“I’m close, I’m—”
I stop, and before she has a chance to question me, I flip her over, yanking her up to her knees. I spread her cheeks, running my thumb over that puckered hole, relishing the tiny gasp she makes as I do. “You like that?”
She nods, her face buried in the sheets.
“If you’re good, I’ll give it to you,” I say, grabbing another condom from my pocket before pushing down my pants and boxers. I tear it open and sheath myself, then grip her hips andhaul her back towards me. Taking her from behind, I thrust up into her, holding her in place so my dick is bottoming out inside her, hitting deep.
She lets out a helpless whimper that undoes me, and we both let loose, her fisting her hands in the sheets and moaning like a fucking porn star, and me sinking in and withdrawing like an animal, pounding into her like her sweet cunt could save me from myself.
I reach around and tease her clit, and it’s only seconds before she’s making those noises I remember from that first night together.She’s close.
I fuck her like the world is ending, our bodies slamming together.
Sweat breaks out all over me, and I rut into her wet cunt, as if the ferocity of my fucking can fend off the thoughts of my daughter’s best friend. But this position is worse because the woman in front of me could be anyone.
I yank her back over my cock. Her body shunts up the bed, her fingers in the sheets, and I rail her until my orgasm is inevitable.
“Rafe, Rafe. Fuck… oh… fuck, fuck, fuck,” she calls, and the sound of her coming tips me over the edge.
“Diana. Fuck, Diana,” I roar as the climax breaks through, my back arching and my body stiffening, my dick filling the condom with more cum than I’ve ever released in one go.
My breaths come ragged and hard, and after I finish, she doesn’t move, our bodies still joined as my dick slowly softens inside her.
She’s limp on the sheets when her soft voice breaks the silence in the room. “Diana?”
I let out a low moan, hanging my head. “Shit.”
She says nothing, but curls up on the sheets after I pull out and make myself decent.
I need to get the fuck out of here. This wasn’t supposed to end this way, although, now I think of it, I’m not sure it was going to end any other way.
I didn’t really come here for this woman at all, regardless of the impact she made on me when we first met and how wonderful it felt to have her in my arms again.
“She wears your perfume,” I explain, as if calling out someone else’s name makes it better if you share a scent.
She doesn’t look at me, and self-loathing rises like thick, dark tar, choking me. Clearing my throat, I make my apologies, excusing myself, telling her I had a great time.
Still, she doesn’t look at me.
