The Remains Of The Day

I stood at the mirror, washing the day off my face, telling him the mundane details of the last several hours. Went here, did that, bought this, ate lunch with her, and so on. He murmured uh huh, oh yeah, really at the right moments, but I don't think he was paying attention. Just as he was trying to pretend I wasn't spewing workaday facts about my day, I was trying to pretend that he hadn't just dropped his shorts and shoved my dress up around my waist. My panties were already MIA.

He was hard before he even stepped behind me. He had to be, given how thick and slick his cock felt as he rubbed against the skin of my ass while I rubbed the cleanser over the skin of my face. He caressed my ass cheeks and gripping my flesh, spread me open, his fingertips digging in but never touching the sensitive skin of my cleft. My dress was crushed around my hips, which pressed against the cold porcelain of the sink. I teased him about how ready he was when he stepped into the bathroom. He countered by drawing fingers through my wetness.

I wriggled from his grip and went into the bedroom, unzipping my sheath as I strode into the next room, peeling the bra from my skin. I stood naked and he pushed me over from the waist gently, my elbows and nipples grazing the slightly rough fabric of the bedclothes. Again he spread my cheeks and lips and pushed his cock into me. Quickly he began thrusting as deeply as he could, his swollen head barging against my cervix, pangs shooting through my belly. "Too much. Too deep," I huffed. And he slowed and shallowed.

"Pull out," I said. Not what he wanted. I dashed to the other room, shoved the shoes on my feet and tottered back as quickly as the 5 inch heels would carry me. Deep purple patent leather platform peep toes. The first wearing. And he bent me over at the waist again and slid in. The angle changed, he could go deeper. I watched between my legs as his cock pumped in and out. The skin of his hips smacked loudly against my ass as he held my hipbones and pulled me onto his cock again and again.

He inhaled sharply and began to whisper in my ear. He told me how much he loves fucking me from behind, how he loves the scent of my pussy wafting up to him, to see my slick, thick juices coating his cock, and to feel the wetness slip down his balls. With that, he reached around and rubbed my clit until I came, and then pushed me on for another. My knees weakened and I pressed back into the saddle of his hips, held there until I could bear my own weight again.

He continued to pummel me, still wet and slick, pushing ever deeper. My aroused cunt accepted his full thrusts, any discomfort now gone as he kept pushing into me. I pulled forward and away from him, rolled to my back and opened my legs. The fuck-me-now shoes still on my feet, my ankles found a home on his shoulders. He slid two fingers into me, probing my g-spot until I came and clenched and tightened around him. Then again he circled over my clit, one orgasm bursting forth, and then another as he fucked into me one last time, my legs wrapped around his waist, heels dangling from my toes as the last orgasm rolled over me.

When he pulled away I followed, sinking down in front of him to suck the remains from his glistening, perfectly erect cock. "Sometimes I might just keep fucking you so I could come. Not now." If not now, when?

Republished with permission from Always Each Other. Want to see your true tale of lust on Fleshbot? Contact us. Photo courtesy of Gothic Sluts.