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His voice, it was so powerful. I had forgotten how the sound of his voice excited me. I adored this man. He was the love of my life. Was he playing with me? I could hear him moving toward me. I put my hands up in front of me so that I could feel him coming. As he got closer, I could smell him, then I finally felt him. He grabbed my hands.
“Don’t be afraid. You’re safe. The drink the woman gave you was spiked, but it was harmless.” I tried to move away. “Wait! I know that was harsh, but it’s no mistake that we’re both here tonight after all these years.”
He stroked my face. I was crying. He kissed away the tears. I couldn’t resist him, though I wanted to slap the shit out of him and tell him that if he wanted to fuck, all he had to do was ask. This little game was unnecessary.
My hands began to roam his body and I began to unbutton and remove his clothing. I needed him inside me. After all the sorry bastards I had fucked over the years, trying to recapture what we once had, I figured that I could at least have it again, if only for one night. He owed me that much. I felt like this was a game he was playing, one that I didn’t deserve. He and I had shared something special, or so I thought, and this in-the-dark bullshit was just plain weird. Yet and still, I wanted him ten years strong.
“I knew you would be here. I set this up so that you and I could be together. I watched you come in. I’ve been excited all night, thinking about making love to you.”
He was stroking me now. I spread my legs to allow him to go as far as my body would allow him. I didn’t have any panties on. He let out an evil chuckle. He always liked when I didn’t wear panties. He was still talking, but I wasn’t listening.
“Talk to me, Lela. I want to hear your voice.”
“I love you,” I told him as I kissed his lips. It wasn’t a lie and it was all I felt I should say.
“I love you, too.”
Those were the last words. Now it was all about our bodies communicating.
He was foreign, yet familiar at the same time. His skin was so soft. I wanted to eat him alive, but I decided I should go at his pace. He was being soft and melodic, grabbing my face in the darkness and placing romantic kisses all over me. I held on tight. I had already removed his jacket and unbuttoned his shirt. Damn, he smelled so good. He took the fingers that were in my pussy moments ago and placed them in his mouth and then in mine. I sucked his fingers as if they were four little dicks. I could feel his big dick against me. I missed him so much. Was I still unconscious? I had dreamed of this. Was I dreaming again?
His rough push against the wall made my nervous thoughts disappear. He wanted to get rough. Now that’s what I’m talking about! Our tongues danced in a rough rhythm as I ran my fingers through his curly ringlets, and he roughly grabbed my ass.
“Damn, baby, did you lose some of your thickness?” he asked playfully.
I was embarrassed. “Sorry, I’m not a ten,” I sassed back, thinking about his new girlfriend.
“You’re a twenty, baby.”
He pulled my dress up. I removed his shirt and unbuckled his pants and slid them and his drawers down. I was planning to give him head when he eagerly picked me up and smoothly slid his dick in my wet, tight pussy. No one ever got me as wet and excited as Sanad did. Try as they might, they simply didn’t have what he had, and I never loved any of them. We had passion.
He fucked and made love to me—something he was skilled at—against the wall as if my pussy were feeding life force into his dick. Maybe it was the other way around. Lord knows I was in need of life force from any source right then. He slid the top of my dress down and removed my bra with his mouth and hungrily sucked, licked, and bit at my breasts. In this position all I could do was smell the sweet scent of his hair and take every inch of his thick manhood. His rock-hard dick felt so good moving in and out. His hands, God, how I loved his hands; they were so big and so perfect.
I removed his hand from my right breast and began to suck his four little dicks again. I could hear him moan in pleasure. I loved to hear how good my pussy was, translated in his moans and groans. I was tired of being fucked on a wall. I wanted to enjoy his entire body. I pushed him off me.
“What are you doing, baby?” he gasped.
I didn’t have anything to say. It was all about action.
I grabbed his hand and guided him to the bed. I turned so my pussy was toward his face and I began to suck his dick. I got it all in my mouth against my gag reflex. I needed it all to fit because I knew this would be the last time. He became lost in my mouth. All I could hear was heavy breathing and gasps for air. I was pleased with myself, as I smiled with his dick in my mouth. I started to use one hand to stroke him as I sucked the head. He began to spank me. I liked that shit. I was dripping wet on his chest and face. He began to finger me, and the sound of his fingers mixed with my juices was more than I could handle. I began to lick his balls and I left no pubic hair untouched as I munched at them while smelling my sweet scent in his hair. He put his face in my wet pussy and I worked it against him with a smack. He came in my mouth for the first time. Ten years ago I would have been cautious, but tonight was the last night for me to show out and try things I’d never done before.
His dick was still hard and I was far from being done with him.
“You swallow now, huh?” he asked as he kissed my sloppy mouth.
In between licks, I managed to let escape, “For you.”
“Let’s see what else you’ll do for me.” At that moment a piano began to play a familiar song in the darkness. I jumped, but he held me close. “Don’t worry, they can’t see us.”
“I don’t care if they can.”
I had assumed someone was in the room besides us, but I didn’t really give a damn. After a few moments of the piano, a woman’s voice began to sing. I knew it was 10, so I didn’t bother to ask.
“This is our song, remember?” he asked.
I did. It was the love theme from Romeo + Juliet, “Kissing You” by Des’ree, sung in the key of 10. Over the years I would pop in the CD, listen to that song, and cry like a baby. It was indeed our song, and as I listened to it in the dark with Sanad in my arms, I began to cry again and so did he. He gently laid me down and began to make love to me as we cried and caressed each other tenderly. Homegirl knew the extended mix because it went on for what seemed like an hour; Sanad and I made up for ten years of life without each other.
We lay there together sticky, sweaty, and stinky with each other’s juices all over us, tired as hell, but holding on to each other for dear life as 10 continued to play the melody of our song.
