I remember having this peeve over his ex-girlfriends. I’d get so jealous watching him with them, or anybody who got close to him. I knew he was well experienced by the time we got together, and because I wasn’t, I used to make a point of trying hard to please him. I wanted to be better, and memorable.
I have the same thing come over me now. He hasn’t been mine in six years, and I know he’s been with countless women. I want him to think of only me when he thinks of pleasure. Nobody else, no matter what he felt for them.
I run my fingers over the length of his shaft, pump up and down, then take him into my mouth. Instantly, he grows harder and bigger in my hands and my mouth. The thickness of him on my tongue sends arousal clawing through me. The taste of him tickles my buds, and the feel of him is like nothing I can quite describe.
I start sucking, bobbing up and down as I do, and he laces his fingers through my hair, encouraging me to suck harder and take him deeper into my mouth. I do.
Fuck, do I ever, and it feels good for me too.
“Fucking hell, Jia, you’re so good at that,” he grates and starts pumping into my face. I caress his balls, and he caresses my head. His caress feels like I’m being rewarded. I love it. I love his hands on me in whatever way he chooses to touch me.
I can’t believe I’m the same woman from last week who thought she wanted nothing to do with this man, the same one who cared more for a building and was so pissed at her father. It’s me. I’m the same woman, except the difference between me now and the woman I was last week is that temptation has come to claim me and I allowed myself to be led away by the thing I wanted more than anything in this world.
Paul.
I won’t pretend. I can’t. I’ve been in love with this man forever, and while I know I’m treading dangerous paths just by being here, I’m doing it anyway.
He pumps into my mouth faster, fucking my face, and I take him deep, too deep. I feel his balls tighten in response, so I’m not surprised when he pulls out of my mouth and reaches for me to stand.
He turns me to face the wall, and I press my hands against the stony, rigid surface.
Without another word, he moves my bikini bottoms to the side and plunges deep into my pussy.
I’m wet, always wet and ready for him, so as he enters me, I take him, I welcome his hard thrusts as they begin and the warmth of his breath on my ear when he leans close against the cool water on my skin.
Paul starts pumping hard, and my knees wobble. My body tingles with the wild sensation of him rutting into me, fucking me hard like he wants to possess me.
Like…
No, it’s not like. It is. He is possessing me. The same way I wanted to make my mark in his mind as being the only woman to give him pleasure, he’s doing the identical thing to me.
He’s showing me he’s the one and only, reminding me he’s the one and only.
He’s making sure I know I belong to him by the ruthless way he fucks me.
He’s making sure I know I’m being claimed and that I know I’m his.
Pleasure in abundance courses through my body. It sizzles and scorches, it shakes my soul, it rocks my being from this reality and takes me to a place I’ve only ever been with him.
The echoes of our bodies slapping together fill the cave, the scent of us having sex fills my nose, and I cry out as pleasure grips me in its wild, vicious claws of ecstasy.
I come and come, and I come. Hard and fast. My pussy walls tighten around his cock searing into me, wrapping around his length as he drives into me like I’m milking him clean. He comes too, and we both cry out into the release.
My damn skin is hot, like fire’s been thrown on it. I can barely breathe.
He has the same problem. He’s holding me tight against the hardness of his chest as his cock pulses inside me, filling me up with his hot cum.
Against the cool water flowing over us, I enjoy his cum coating my walls. Hot and thick. Every time I feel it, it feels like he’s giving me a part of him, a piece of him, so I savor it.
He leans forward and kisses my shoulders, brushing over my skin, lingering there like he’s savoring me too.
“Jia…” he whispers my name. “How can we feel better than just this morning?”
“I don’t know, but I like it.”
“I missed you,” he says. It’s the second time he’s told me that.
I look back and brush my fingers down his cheek, holding him. “I missed you too.”