All Good Things Must End

My dreams were so vivid that I struggled to remember if everything was real when I woke up.

My eyes adjusted to the room's brightness, and a little smile formed. I thought about the night before, then softly chewed on my lower lip. That had to have been a dream. There was no way I had that kind of night with my boss. Squirming a little, I stretched beneath the sheet; my body ached in delicious ways as I clutched the pillow, my naked flesh against the cool cotton sheets.

That was when I felt the bed shift and a muscular arm curled over my shoulders, and when my eyes caught sight of the silver watch, one I knew like the back of my hand, I felt a girly nervousness settle in my stomach. It wasn't a dream after all. I could smell the remnants of his cologne, and my mind reeled. God, last night was perfect. He laid on his side against my back. I could feel his morning wood hard against my hip, and with a slow roll, I turned and nestled up against his chest.

Feeling him nuzzle his face against my hair, I felt him breathe slowly, arms and legs tangling together; the warmth felt wonderful as I slowly ran my hand along his back.

"Mmm, good morning..." he murmured in a deep, husky voice. That tone went right to my already wet slit, and I think he knew it.

Leaning up, I kissed along his jawline; the whiskers that grew in were rough against my lips.

"Good morning," I whispered, nuzzling my face against his neck as I ran my hand down his back, then along his side, stopping near his stomach. I slid my hand between us, slowly rubbing his cock, feeling it grow to its full glory. His groan was so sensual and deep. I needed to hear more of it.

"I can't help it. I always get hard when I'm around you," he murmured as if he needed to apologize for it. I'd been missing this feeling of being wanted and needed by someone unable to keep their hands off me. My hand slowly began to stroke him. The throbbing warmth of him was enough to get me dripping wet.

"I'm not complaining at all. I love how I get you so hard," I purred. A soft moan escaped when I felt his hand reach for the plush globe of my ass, massaging and pulling at me in an almost demanding way.

"I need to get ready for day two of this spectacle," he groaned, reaching for my hand. He pulled it away, and I felt a sense of hurt in my chest almost instantly. He felt the change in my aura, a slow smile forming as he tilted my head back to look up at him.

"Don't worry, you're coming to shower with me," he murmured, gently tossing the sheet aside; he kept my hand in his as he pulled me to the edge of the bed, making me stand before kissing me and walking me backward into the wide open bathroom.

"I was almost hurt for a moment. Rejection isn't something I handle well," I said with a shy grin, running my hand through my bedhead while he watched. The shower turned on, and the steam slowly rose in more ways than one.

"There is no way I could leave today without starting the day like this," he murmured against my lips as he walked into the shower with me. The heat from the water felt amazing, soothing the ache in my shoulders and legs. We washed up, and he even washed my hair, which I enjoyed immensely. But he wasted absolutely no time after. The marble bench-type shelf was the perfect height, and even with the water spraying halfway against us, I hopped onto it, and instantly he was between my knees.

His name fell from my lips when I felt him slowly easing his rigid cock into me, sinking deeper and deeper until he was buried completely. My arms were around him, and my legs parted to give him all the access he needed. His gasps and low moans were the declaration I needed to know that I felt just as amazing as I had the night before, and so did he. That immediate sensation of being full was undeniably something I would always crave from him.

The hot water came at us from the side, and it only made the pleasure more intense. My heart was already racing. Each thrust from him was perfection. His lips kissed along my shoulder and neck, and the water drowned out his heavy moans, but not before I heard them. My hands came down to rest on the muscles of his ass, pulling him towards me in that delicious tandem. A wicked little grin formed on my lips as he continued to pound into me as steady as he could without slipping on the tile.

My hand gripped his ass harder, pulling his cheeks apart just enough for my fingertips to reach down and trace the rim of his hole, applying just the right amount of pressure. Anyone who is anyone knows there are a million nerve endings there, and while I was expecting a good reaction, I wasn't expecting this one.

"Oh-- oh my g-god...ah, fuck!" He belted out, his hand slamming down hard on the tile wall as he railed me with the most erratic and hard thrusts, and I felt his cock begin to throb violently while his tight hole rhythmically twitched against my fingertips. He was exploding, filling me deep. Clinging to me in a tight embrace, he was panting hard, and his legs trembled. It was so fucking hot, and I just learned something new about him in that moment.

"Jesus Christ, I wasn't expecting that, but damn..." his voice trailed off, and I couldn't help the grin on my lips.

"That was incredibly hot," I purred, leaning in to kiss him softly, my hand tangling in his salt-and-pepper gray hair.

Without another word, he slowly pulled his cock from inside me, and soon his thick fingers were delving deep, his cum soaking his fingers. He hooked and found my G-spot and began to work it steadily. My whimpers were already high, my moans drawn out as I put my heels on the slab, giving him a full few of my pink pussy.

"Mmmm, you're so sexy," he groaned, his breath hot on my ear as he spoke, his words turning me on even more.

"You know what I want and what I'm going to get," he groaned, his fingertips quickly rubbing that spot. The apex of my thighs suddenly felt like it was being tickled from every angle.

"You're going to gush for me, just like last night," He groaned, and I felt my resolve dwindling. I softly sobbed as my head lulled back and my eyes rolled closed. My walls began to tighten, and his sudden gasp and the way his fingers shifted had sent me into oblivion. I cried and moaned out in relief as my orgasm slammed into me; his fingers fucked my tight hole as I gushed, each spasm sent my juices squirting hard, and he encouraged it the whole time.

"That's it, baby. Fuck," he cooed, kissing my forehead, my cheeks, urging me to look up at him. My eyes were hazy as he gave a half smile, leaning in to kiss me, and as I kissed him back, I knew why I was so attached, why I craved his attention.

I needed to be controlled, and I needed that safe place. He sensed it, too. Last night, he was testing the waters. Now he knew.

"Are you okay?" he asked quietly, talking me down from my post-orgasmic haze, and soon after he helped me down to my feet, my legs trembled like Jell-O.

"You make me feel things I haven't felt before--" he silenced me with a shh, then a soft kiss to my lips.

"Mmm, likewise. Trust me," He smiled, reaching to turn off the water. He helped me out of the shower, and both of us dried off, my long hair cascading down my back as I wrapped the towel around my frame.

"How long are you staying here?" he asked in a matter-of-fact tone, getting his clothing on and running a hand through his thick hair. God, he was so fucking handsome.

"Until Thursday, I decided to take Wednesday and Thursday off too since I--" he cut me off.

"Since you already have Mondays and Tuesdays off. I know. Who do you think writes your schedule?" he grinned, leaning down to kiss me as he buttoned up his shirt. Reaching to grab his wallet, he opened it, pulled a black credit card, and handed it to me.

"You have a honey-do list today. You're going to get a dress, shoes, whatever else, and you're going to get a massage down in the spa. Wait near the concierge, and we'll meet for dinner. Understood?"

I held the card, doe-eyed, looking up at him curiously.

"Oh, you don't have to do this; I have money, I--" I said with a coy smile. No one had ever done that for me, and I wasn't used to it, but I was also curious and wondering why he wasn't responding.

When I looked up again, his eyebrow rose slightly, his head tilted to the side, and his blue eyes shined as if waiting for me to say something else. Then, it made sense to me.

"Thank you.." I blushed hard, biting my lip. But his smile was all I needed to see, making me melt inside.

"Get anything you want. Money isn't in question. Happy birthday, beautiful. See you tonight." Kissing me again, he was gone from my room, leaving me to fall back on the bed, the card clutched in my hand and a stupid grin plastered. Never in my whole life had I been this excited to go shopping.

Two hours had passed, and it was 10 AM. I'd spent the time relaxing, ordering room service for breakfast, and sitting on the balcony as I scrolled through my phone, checking out which shops to visit. I decided on the Forum Shops at Caesars Palace. I was soon ready for the day. Choosing a pair of white cut-off shorts and a coral-colored tank with a sheer coverup, I slid on my flip-flops and headed out for the day. I had six hours to kill before returning to make it for my hair and nail appointment.

Shopping by myself was more fun than I'd expected. Trying on dresses at Ferragamo, shoes at Christian Louboutin, and jewelry at Tiffany's. It was too much, and I bought nothing at those stores. I wasn't used to being spoiled, but it was so much fun. But I did settle on a black-on-black clutch purse at Coach and a small pair of diamond earrings. The dress I chose was a shimmery champagne color, thigh length, and fitted with long sleeves and a plunging neckline. With a darker nude-colored set of heels, it was gorgeous. It was Vegas, and heels were not smart, but for a night out, they were needed.

It was 6:30 PM, and my massage was completed, and my hair, makeup, and nails were done. I'd been pampered just like he wanted. I went with having my hair straightened and left in long layers, and my makeup was classy but also Vegas-ready. Dark, smoky eyes and a shade of lipstick a couple of tones darker than my lip color.

I was nervous, and I didn't know why. I was waiting patiently, and I suspected I was being watched. It could be anyone, but I felt in my gut that it was him until it wasn't. He hadn't texted me all day, not even when it was getting close to the meeting time. As I waited near the concierge, a man walked up to me, valet, I suspected, gently stating my name. Giving a nod, he ushered me out to the valet area, where a sleek black sedan was waiting.

Was he inside? I hoped so. But as I slid in, I realized I was alone. But that schoolgirl nervousness was back, and I couldn't keep the smile off my face. This was so reckless and so out of my normal. I was sheltered and stayed in my lane. Now, here I was, getting in a car, going off to places unknown, hoping that he was waiting for me.

He was.

As we pulled up to the Paris Hotel, I saw him waiting, and a hoard of butterflies set flight in my stomach. Dressed in a charcoal grey shirt, black blazer, and black slacks, I felt my breath leave my lungs. He was glancing at the cars arriving, and when he saw me, I watched his eyes light up in the neon above him. He opened the door for me before the driver could, reaching for my hand to help me out. The warmth of his palm in mine was one of the most comforting things I'd ever felt.

"You look stunning," he said quietly, ushering me away, urging me to curl my arm over his.

"Thank you. I saw you standing there, and I kinda forgot to breathe," I laughed a little, the pink hue settling into my cheeks.

Chuckling a bit, he smiled and walked with me into the casino, his eyes surveying the area and occasionally looking down at me. I had hoped that I pleased him with my shopping choices, and with the looks he gave, it was apparent that I did.

"I appreciate the birthday spoiling. I had a wonderful day," I said as we took the elevator up to the Eiffel Tower Restaurant. He gave me a thoughtful smile as he entered. We were immediately given a table with an exceptional view of the Bellagio and its fountains.

"I'm glad you did. You deserve it." He said once we were seated, his gaze on me as I looked out over the gorgeous sunset we witnessed. He ordered drinks for us. His low, smooth voice was something I could listen to for hours.

My dark eyes watched him scan the menu, nodding as he asked if I liked crab cakes or lobster rolls. Then, a jovial laugh escaped him when I turned my nose up at clams in the shell.

"I'll pass on that," I added. The thought of it grossed me out. He did say they weren't for everyone.

"So, I'm going to assume day two went well?" I wasn't prodding, but I was also curious and wanted to make a conversation.

"Better than yesterday. I'm just glad it's over. It's the same thing every year, just with updates. But I won't complain; everything is paid for." He grinned and then began to order for us. I caught on to what he had been doing in questioning my likes. He was ordering for me and had it narrowed down to things he knew I'd like, and he was right.

Dinner was perfection: steaks, salad, appetizers, and wine. The setting was beautiful, and the fountain show was delightful as usual. I gazed out over the setting before us, floating on cloud nine.

The night was wonderful... until it wasn't. As I peered over at him, admiring his handsome features, I saw a look of concern, maybe even guilt etch into his brow.

"I.. I'm not sure if we should continue.. this, once we're back." He said quietly, his eyes not meeting my own just yet, not wanting to see the reflection of confusion and hurt. I felt like the air had been sucked out of my lungs, like someone was sitting on my chest, not letting me breathe. But I also understood why he would be overthinking everything. It took everything in my power not to walk out, not wanting him to see my tears. But instead, I swallowed back the emotion with a long sip of wine.

I too had felt a sense of guilt, sadness, and selfishness, but not regret. I didn't regret a single minute that we had together, even at that moment.

"Is it me? Like.. did I say something, or..?" I asked quietly, it was eating away at me, but I felt a small sense of relief when he took my hand, gently running his thumb over my knuckles.

"Not in the slightest. These past few months have been something I think we've both needed. I just hate that it can't last forever," he added, and he, sadly, was right.

"Yeah, me too." Feigning the prettiest smile I could, I linked my fingers with his, always being the one to comfort others, even when I was breaking down on the inside.

"Thank you for dinner," I said quietly, taking in a slow breath, my chest tightening as I reached into the clutch purse and pulled out his credit card, gently sliding it across the table to him. You would have thought I was handing in my resignation the way he looked down at it. I could see the realization of the conversation hitting him like a ton of bricks. Standing carefully, he was watching my every move, though he was still.

"I'll see you at work," I reassured him, my hand on the back of his neck as he looked up, and I bent down to kiss him softly; a long, slow kiss, knowing I'd never forget the taste of the red wine on his lips and praying silently that it wouldn't be the last. I heard him say my name, raspy and deep as I walked to the exit.

As the elevator doors opened, I felt the hot tears brimming and falling, and the last image I saw was him stopping in the doorway, where I gave a faint smile as the elevator doors gently closed. His eyes locked on mine with an expression of pain, and regret shadowing that ordinarily handsome face.

By the time I got to the casino floor, I was a mess. My makeup was ruined, and I couldn't get to the valet parking fast enough. Not waiting for the car to drive me back, I got in the first cab I saw and returned to my hotel. My phone was buzzing with his calls: seven, eight, nine. I finally turned my phone off. We had already messed things up for the night, there was no reason to keep it going.

Once inside my room, I was in my safe place to have a good, proper crying meltdown. What was the purpose of spoiling me? Fucking my brains out, opening up to me, letting me be vulnerable, taking me to the most fantastic dinner I had ever had in my life, just to tell me that we couldn't see one another like this anymore?

He's married.

I'm married.

He loves his wife.

I love my husband.

But I love his man, too. And that was why I was crying, it felt like my heart was shattering. He made me feel things I hadn't felt, ever. I didn't want to lose that.

I was in the middle of washing my face, taking breaks from crying, and wiping my face when I heard the knocks on my door. It wasn't a loud knock, but one that was rushed. My heart lurched in my chest, and I patted my face dry before looking through the peep hole, and surely enough it was him.

But seeing him stung, he looked just as much of a wreck as I did. I couldn't turn him away, and truthfully, I didn't want to. Opening the door slowly, his dark blue eyes met mine, and I could see he was just as conflicted. If I didn't know any better, he had done his share of crying too.

He didn't ask to come in, instead, he pushed me gently back inside, and closed the door, locking it. My heart raced, and I couldn't hear my thoughts. He looked distraught, and raw, and probably had too many drinks. But as he reached for my hand to pull me into the bedroom, I could feel the tension in the air shift. He was so quiet, the air was heavy, and I knew what he needed.

Me.

Just like I needed him.

With his free hand, he unbuttoned his shirt, pulling it over his head, then his t-shirt. The sounds of his belt coming undone made my pussy suddenly throb, but seeing him push his slacks down, and his boxers kicked to the side, we both quietly understand what we needed. As he pulled the sheet back and climbed into my bed, I pulled my oversized nightshirt off and crawled up to straddle him, my soft palms gently roaming his chest. The warmth of his palm against my cheek made my eyes drift closed, a fresh baby wave of tears spilling over.

"I'm falling for you," he said in a hoarse, shaky tone, his eyes gazing up at me as my dark brown hues looked down into his, my hand coming to rest over his. I made a slow roll of my hips, my already-soaked lips gently massaging the underside of his cock, feeling him harden quickly beneath me.

I knew he was waiting for a reply, but I waited until I wrapped my hand around his throbbing shaft, holding him still as I lowered myself onto the thick mass, inch by inch. His name was whimpered aloud, my thighs trembling until I felt myself bottom out, my clit pressed against his pubic bone. We really did fit together perfectly.

"I know it's easy to get scared. But I feel the same, and.. I don't know how to not need you," I rolled my eyes back slowly, feeling the thick head of his cock gently nestled against my cervix. His groan was music to my ears, and so was that sudden gasp as I rode him slow and easy.

"I don't want to give this up, you, us." I whimpered softly, my velvet hands trailing his neck, and his chest, the little hairs gently moving between my fingertips. His palms found my breasts, kneading them gently, tweaking my nipples into hardened nubs. His name was purred as my head leaned back, my hair tickling my lower back.

He spoke softly, encouraging me as I slowly made love to him, telling me what he loved about me, about us, how I made him feel like a teenager, and how he craved how I paid attention to him. He told me about his marriage as I slowly rocked against him, the way he had to beg for sex, for attention. I told him how I felt invisible in my marriage like I was a roommate, but I stayed for my kids.