One More Chance

“So close. So close. So close.”

She chanted her whispers of salacious desire as her walls tightened around my cock. Sweat dripped down my brow. I crashed my lips against hers and raked my teeth across her lower lip.

“I love you. I love you, Ana. Oh, shit. I’m gonna come.”

“Come inside me, Tyler. Mark me. Make me yours.”

My eyes burst wide open.

Throwing the covers back, I surveyed the damage. My dick throbbed as threads of cum coated my naked stomach. Fuck. The dream had felt so real. I could still hear her voice echoing off the corners of my mind. I forced myself up from the pillow and placed my feet on the floor.

I needed a fucking shower.

Steam from the hot water filled the room as I stepped in. The waterfall shower head poured water down my skin as my cock hung thickly between my legs. I washed my hair and ran conditioner through it, trying to rid my mind of the dream, trying to right my mind for the day ahead.

Trying to prepare myself for this evening.

No matter what I did, however, my cock wouldn’t shrink. Ana’s moans wouldn’t go away. And if I concentrated, her smell surrounded my head. It was as if she were there in the shower with me, and suddenly my cock grew back to life. My balls hung low with the need to release.

And her body appeared next to me in the shower.

“Come here and let me take care of that.”

She whispered into my ear as my back fell against the tiled walls of my shower. I closed my eyes and conjured her memory as I wrapped my hand around my cock. In my mind’s eye, she sank to her knees, nuzzled my angry, red cock with her nose. She looked beautiful on her knees for me, looking up with those innocent, round eyes. I fisted her hair and guided her lips over the tip of my dick, feeling her tongue swirl around it.

“Fuck, Ana,” I groaned.

She bobbed her head up and down as I touched the back of her throat. She pinned me to the wall, rendering me immobile as her lips grew red. They swelled with their efforts. I stroked my cock harder, thrusting into my hand as my legs trembled and contracted. My toes curled into the wet shower floor as my head fell back against the wall.

“Ana. Oh, don’t stop. That mouth. It’s perfect.”

“You’re perfect for me,” she said.

“Don’t talk with your mouth full, sweet girl.”

She moaned around my cock, and I was ready to explode. Her curves. Her tits. They pressed into my legs as I spread myself for her. My hips rocketed forward, stuffing my cock down her throat as I squeezed my eyes shut. I wasn’t ready to give her up, even if it was just a memory, just a dream.

Just a fantasy.

“Ana! Fuck!”

My legs convulsed and my cock pulsed in the palm of my hand. Thick threads of hot cum pumped from my tip, shooting across the shower and painting the frosted glass. My eyes fluttered open as my body continued its assault, emptying my balls as I stood there, wishing Ana was really with me. I slid to the floor as my legs gave out from underneath me, and as I closed my eyes, I heard Ana’s sweet voice on the shell of my ear.

“I love you, Tyler.”

I wanted to believe her. I wanted to know it was true. My cock dwindled in my hand as euphoria rushed through my veins. Water poured on top of me, washing the conditioner out of my hair and coating my body in cleanliness.

Today was the day, and I had no idea how things were going to go.

Picking myself up off the floor, I turned off the water. I had to prepare myself for the work day ahead and for the evening to come with Ana. I was nervous about our meeting, about seeing her for the first time since she’d broken the news to me in Gianno’s.

I loved her. I loved that woman with every fiber of my being. But my confusion and my hurt overrode everything else. I had thrust myself into work, trying to knock out all sorts of things before I emerged to talk with her.

Because I really wanted to meet my son. I wanted to kneel in front of him, take in him my arms, and spend the entire week getting to know him.

All of it hinged on how things went between Ana and I tonight, though, on my ability to convince her that I could be a good father. It all also hinged on my ability to work through the pain I was experiencing. How could she have hidden something like this from me? How could she have possibly thought this was the right answer? Yes, we had fought. We’d been eighteen, and kids fought all the time. I had loved her. I still loved her. And she had loved me.