The fear in me had grown since the last time I had seen Chris. My mind flashed back to the last time we were together. I could feel his breath on my neck and I was melting at the way he whispered in my ear all the words I had always longed to hear.
"I love you," he had whispered and my entire body had gone limp in his arms. He was holding me up, pulling me to him. I didn't know if I deserved to be loved by someone like him. I wasn't perfect. Far from it.
"Thank you," I had said softly, unable to utter the words that I felt in my heart. I was afraid, scared to love and be loved. It had been too long since I'd opened my heart to someone and that hadn't ended well. I was scared for the future, unsure if my heart would ever be okay enough to love again.
Chris and I had gone our separate ways, him back to his wife and me back to my husband. Now, things were different. We were finally both single again, waiting for our divorces to be final. He had been a support system to me, listening to me bitch about my situation via text. He didn't say much about his own situation and I often wondered why he was so silent about his personal life while I was dumping every detail about mine on him.
He never complained about it but after enough time had passed he asked me if I wanted to meet. I knew that this was inevitable. I knew I couldn't stay away from him forever. I knew that I couldn't put off meeting with the man that I had truly loved for all of this time. I didn't want to admit it to myself, but Chris was the reason I hadn't fought so hard when my ex had asked for a divorce. He was the thought that kept me going as I did my best to get through the pain of my family falling apart.
"Meet with me," Chris was being forceful now. Why was I so afraid? What was I so afraid of?
"Okay..." I typed, texting him back. "When? Where?"
"Come to my place. I'm in Brighton now, not far from you," his text came in and I could already feel the trembling beginning deep inside of me as if my heart was trembling so hard that it made my entire body shake.
"Okay, I can do that," I texted back. He gave me the details and I agreed to a date and time.
The days leading up to our meeting were scary for me. I went through my closet looking for the perfect outfit and contemplating what would happen. Was I really ready for love again so soon? Was I really ready to give myself to Chris again after everything that we had been through as friends? I didn't want to lose him as my friend and more than anything I just wanted to know where things would lead with him. In my heart, I knew there was something between us. I was terrified to find out if it was real. My biggest fear was that it was not.
I drove to his apartment, terrified of what might happen and what might not. I replayed every interaction we had ever had in my mind as I drove, listening to the song that had been on the last time he had kissed me on repeat. I would never admit to anyone that I was a true romantic. On the surface, everyone saw me as a slut who liked to fuck lots of dicks. Chris had me feeling differently, in ways that a woman searches her whole life to find. I knew that I was in deep trouble as I parked on the street in downtown Brighton.
"I'm here," I texted him.
"I'm coming to the door to let you in," he texted back and I got out of my car, my legs shaking in my platform heels. I had worn a simple sweater and a skirt that showcased my legs. I knew he was a leg man. I walked shakily across the street and to the door of his apartment complex. I could see him through the window, holding his phone waiting to see if I was going to text him again. He looked so eager and it eased my fears a bit. He looked up, our eyes locking in a meaningful moment. The love and fear passed between us and he smiled quickly, opening the door for me.
"Baby!" he exclaimed, opening his arms for me. I ran to him, clasping my arms around him and burying my face into his shirt. I had been with him ten seconds and my guard was already down. He had his way of completely disarming me. Maybe that was why I was so terrified. He said nothing, holding me tightly and rocking me back and forth right there in the lobby. He waited until I went completely limp before he let me go. "Shall we go upstairs?"
"Sure. Sorry, I'm just so happy to see you," I admitted.
"I'm happy to see you too, Jen. It's been too long."
"It has," I agreed. The elevator opened and we walked inside. We had it all to ourselves. Chris moved to me after pressing the button for the 3rd floor. His mouth found mine and there I was losing my breath, feeling dizzy. I let my body fall against the elevator wall as my mouth opened to let his tongue inside. He tasted like love and it was an irresistible taste. I felt myself weakening. All of the rules were erased. All of the ways I was used to taking control and manipulating the situation were off of the table. Chris had me. He had my heart and I was completely helpless and lost. I was a slut. Love wasn't supposed to happen to me.
"Here we are," he pulled away as the elevator door opened. He let me go first but then took me by the hand and led me to his apartment. I was shocked at how small it was! He was such a big man and he was living in a studio apartment that would have been too small for most people.
"Wow, this is tiny!" I exclaimed.
"Yeah, sorry. The ex-wife is on the warpath. I need to be a minimalist for a while. Is that okay, Jenni?"
"Yeah, of course. Whatever you need to do for you," I reassured him. We both knew I wasn't a gold digger or looking for a man to take care of me. I was here for sex mostly, or at least that was what I had led him to believe. I had kept our conversations away from the topic of love and instead centered them around sex. It was my default defense mechanism. Whenever I felt something that resembled love, I pushed the feelings away and focused on the cock. I was trying to do that now but failing miserably.
I had forgotten what being in his presence was like. He was tall, dark, and handsome and every movement he made turned me on like nothing else. I could feel my pussy getting wetter and juicier. I could feel the wetness dripping down my legs for him and I didn't know if I could get through any more talking. I needed him.
"You look lovely, sexy lady," he said and I liked the way he called me a lady. No one ever called me that.
"I want you," I moved to him, grabbing at his loose shorts until I found his hardening cock. I rubbed it slowly and deliberately, looking up at him until he could see the need in my eyes.
"I want you," he returned the sentiment, grabbing me and pulling me toward the bed. He grabbed my sweater and pulled it up and over my shoulders. "I love this bra," he looked it over before unhooking it. I had chosen it carefully just for him and I was pleased he had noticed.
"I wore it just for you."
"Jenni..."
"Chris..." We kissed again and from there it was a free for all. I pulled his shorts down and was working on his boxer briefs as he unzipped my skirt.
"Still no panties, Jennifer? Do you ever wear them at all?"
"Never. I told you. Panties suck. I'm a slut. They just get in the way."
"Do you think you'll always be a slut?"
"Probably."
"What if you met the right guy?" he asked with a confident smile. His smile was my fucking weakness.
"Where on Earth would I find the right guy?"
"Right here, baby. Look at me." He smiled again, sensing that it had some power over me. I melted, so weak that I almost collapsed. He held me up and kissed me, then tipped my chin up with his hand until I was looking into his eyes. "I'm right here, baby."
"Fuck..." was all that came out of my mouth. He kissed me deeply and then paused to take off his own shirt. He pulled me back to him and I let myself fall into him, my face buried in his chest. I felt at home with him, like I was supposed to be there. The feelings of love consumed me. I could feel myself filling with the feelings I had been so afraid of, consumed by them. He held me tightly, kissing the top of my head so I could feel every bit of his love. I had never felt this way, not with my ex, not with anyone.
"Lay back, Jenni. I want to show you something," he wasn't too demanding. It was more of a request than a demand. I laid back on his bed and he took off each of my platform sandals with care and placed them at the foot of the bed. He parted my legs and I knew he was about to eat my pussy.
"Wait!" I cried.
"What is it, Jennifer?" he asked. "You don't like your pussy eaten?"
"I just have a very sensitive pussy. Very sensitive. I don't trust just anyone to eat it. You have to be very gentle."
"I can do that. Just let me know if I'm going too hard. I can learn, promise."
"Okay," I opened my legs and watched as he gently placed his tongue near my clit and pressed down. He used slow, light strokes and to my shock and delight, he ate my pussy the way that I needed it eaten. It was crazy how he was able to listen to my request and then give it to me! So many people had failed to eat me out properly but now I was losing it. He was making me cum and I watched as my body began to shake and I could feel my eyes rolling back into my head. How was this man so perfect? How did he know exactly what to do to me?
"How was that, Jenni?" he asked.
"That was beautiful."
"I'm not done."
"You're not?"
"No, I want to watch you cum some more." He chuckled to himself then went back to working my pussy with his tongue. He wasn't just good. He was the best I'd ever had and I wondered how he was better than some of the lesbians I'd fucked that had made pussy eating their life's work. He was making me his life's work and I was cumming again, screaming with shock and amazement at his abilities with his tongue. I grabbed onto his head but he pushed against my hands until they were useless. I couldn't stop him from making me cum again. I was in shock, drained already from the orgasms.
"No more. I can't take anymore!' I begged him.
"You ready for sex baby?" he asked and I liked the way he called me baby. It made me weaker than I already was. I wasn't ready for sex. I needed to stall.
"Please let me suck your dick for you, Chris. I want to taste you," I begged him and he didn't seem to have a problem with this. He presented his thick cock to me and I looked at it, marveling at how perfect it was. I had never loved a cock as much as I loved his.
"This is going to be delicious," I told him as I gripped his cock in my hand and popped it into my mouth. I love sucking cock and this was one of those moments where I let my love for cock sucking shine. I couldn't believe how easy it was to love his cock. I took it as deep down my throat as I could and I wondered if I was better than the other girls who had sucked his cock. I tried my best to give him the best blowjob of his life. I wanted him to know how I felt for him. I wondered if he could feel it as my mouth worked his cock. I wondered if he knew that I thought about him all the time and that this was the moment I had been waiting for the most.
I had thought about sucking his cock a million times in the time we'd spent apart. I thought about it when I was fucking myself, knowing that I might not ever get to suck it again. Now I was really doing it and it was even better than in my fantasies.
