Found

His voice echoed in my brain. We weren't strangers but we weren't lovers. Yet we had a connection neither of us could explain, at least not so that it would make sense to anyone but us. We'd gotten to the point that simply thinking of the other gave us such a sense of peace and understanding... of belonging... that the inevitable passion sparked the moment we even made the other smile, or laugh or think. And those were all things we felt, without having laid eyes on each other for over 15 years.

Walking to the door, knowing when I walked outside, that I could easily see him, my heart pounded. My adrenaline filled blood rushed through my veins. The thought of him. Just the thought of him was enough to make my nipples tighten and my pussy coat my panties.

I was nervous. I was terrified, but I was also determined I wouldn't let either of those things ruin what I wanted so badly. And what I wanted was to know what it was like in his arms. To kiss him. To feel him fill me completely. I craved that knowledge. That tactile reality. I needed to know if what we felt was real. I needed him.

Walking into the parking lot I saw him. My face couldn't help but melt into an incredibly relaxed smile. I was still nervous, but it was most certainly him. Just seeing him there, I could tell, he really was the man I thought he was.

I walked to him. Hesitant. I wasn't sure of the boundaries and the surroundings. I wanted so much to touch him. But more than that, I wanted things to go well for us. My concern was silenced by his touch. His hands. His mouth. His kiss. The way he made me melt and moan. Feeling my body against his.

I said something. I have no idea what. He smiled at me. I walked to my car and he got in his truck. And then it was a two minute drive to his front door. Walking to, walking in. And then more kissing and touching. Touching him. Feeling him. It felt so right. He felt so right. There is no other way to explain it. It felt like I had come home and it was nice to be back.

So much of that night was a blur. He made a point of making us take breathers. I could have easily devoured him and he could have let me if my whimpering became more insistent.

His hands on my ass... sliding up my skirt into my panties. His hands on my breasts, tugging and twisting. His tongue in my mouth. So incredibly hot. Everything about us. Completely in sync. Every breath. Every glance. Every moment taken to regain composure, it was all there. There was nothing unmatched.

I found myself in his dark bedroom, feeling completely safe and very accepted. Every ounce of panic I have replaced with his reassurance. Every movement matched. I whimpered as he took my panties down. I moaned out loud when he removed my bra. When he touched my bare skin, my knees buckled.

When he licked my nipple, my pussy spasmed and as he sucked, my body shook in orgasm. His hands, fingers, touching, feeling, exploring me. My hands feeling him. Oh God. I can't explain what that was like for me. To feel him. His bare skin. My hands caressing, cupping, searching, stroking. The kissing, licking sucking. Felt so good to feel him slide into my mouth. The moan that escaped my lips was that of gratitude.

And then he was inside me and the whole world stopped. Just a little at first. I knew he wanted me to really want it. Little did he know I couldn't want him anymore if I tried. And he gave me more and I moaned. And he gave me more and I whimpered. I wrapped my arms around him and pulled him to me begging him for more and he finally gave me what felt so very much like mine. Suddenly inside of me and I was screaming. Brutally crying out. Needing him. Needing to be taken, fucked, owned. Needing to be his.

He rolled me over, pushing my face into the pillow. Sliding into me from behind. Giving me all that he had to give. Letting me cry out when it was too overwhelming. Feeling his cock punish my cervix, feeling my pussy clench around his cock. Hearing the primal guttural scream as it left my mouth, my face returning to the pillow, feeling every ounce of energy he poured into my soul.

I came time and time again, my body rocking against his. My moaning turning to whimpering and my breathing ragged and then softer and then quiet panting.

There was no question and there was no doubt. It was real and it was very much alive. The part of myself I gave to him, I will never get back. My body, my soul, will forever feel the mark he left on it. No matter how little time we actually had in each others arms, it will always come back to that feeling of forever. What we had began years before we ever touched and the will end years after we let each other go.

His hands. His smile. His touch. His kiss. Our kiss. I love you, I whispered. He looked in my eyes, smiled and said it back to me. I love you baby. And that would be enough. It had to be.