Alone at My Parent's House

My parents were out of town. I haven’t lived in that house for more than 15 years, but when they asked me to come over while they were gone and install the new computer I knew what I wanted. Yes, I’d be glad to set up their new machine. I’d also let a special friend know when I was there. The fantasy of making love in my old bedroom with an old boyfriend was one I just couldn’t pass up.

He told me to leave the door open and be ready. I was nervous. I didn’t do what he said. When he arrived he came in, closed and locked the door behind him. He found me in sis’ room and was not happy that I didn’t do what I was told. He stood behind me, unbuttoned my jeans and pushed them, along with my panties down. He told me to bend over and grab my ankles. I knew what was coming and I was so excited. With every slap to my ass I grew more and more wet. The sting of his hand on my skin was soothed each time with a kiss and a lick. After every few kisses came a bite. Oh, how I love those bites.

He told me to get undressed and I finally convinced him to go into my room. Laying there on the bed, fully exposed he paused a minute to look at me. I love him looking at me. I love the look in his eyes when he’s filled with desire. I love the fullness of his lips and wish I felt them on me all the time. From there he told me to roll over and get up on my hands and knees. On the edge of the bed, now knowing what was next I felt his tongue. My pussy was so wet already. He knows just what I like. He does all the right things. I would soon feel the head of his cock, teasing me, making me want it more and more. I rocked, backing up more and more on him until he couldn’t wait anymore. He wanted it too. “What do you want baby?” “Fuck me,” I whispered. “What?” “Fuck Me! Fuck Me Now!” The feeling of him inside of me is unlike any other. No one feels as good. No one fits like him. The rhythm is perfect and when he starts to finger my ass in time as well I cum so hard that it leaves me breathless. Cum soaking him, running down my thighs. I fall forward on the bed in complete satisfaction. He curled up beside me, stroking my neck and my hair.

Then he told me what would happen next as he pulled my hair. He told me its time to play. I love playing. He wants to play rough. He wants me to fight. I’m more than willing to play along. Only this time, the fighting doesn’t last long. We start that way, but at some point can’t continue. I think we were both so consumed with our passion that we wanted to just make love. The roughness and resistance transitioned to steady, deliberate love making. My legs were wrapped around his ass, my arms around his back. We were rocking slowly, just enjoying every stroke. And kissing. Yes, kissing. Deep, tender, kisses that you only have with the perfect partner. I’ve never treasured kisses like I do his. They are giving and passionate and loving.

Later when we’re dressed he told me that if he had to choose between the kisses and the sex that he would take the kisses. I’m glad I don’t have to choose.

We went to lunch and parted ways. I went back to my parents to finish the job I started, but a few hours later I went to his house and we made love again. I think if we had more than a few stolen hours we would kill each other. I can’t think of a better way to go.

Why can’t I get enough of him? Why am I consumed with him? Where will this all take me?