"Is that it?" We stared at each other. Dara and I hadn't seen each other in a year, and while the attraction was still there, our reunion-an awkward conversation over coffee, and then an even more awkward drink at her place seemed forced. I had caught her glancing down at my crotch when she thought I wasn't looking, and she had caught me quickly glancing at her ample bosom, which strained against a tight "The Clash" t-shirt. Dark-eyed, long-legged, with beautiful thick lips, Dara had always made me wild with lust. She liked nothing more than gagging on my cock, impaling herself on my shaft, and grinding her pussy all over my face. At least, that was then. Then the fights had started, and her job transferred her, and that was that.
So we stared. I was about to go. I had the start of an erection, but was thinking acting on it would be unwelcome, or a bad idea. But I noticed she looked flushed. And...were her nipples hard? We stood at her front door in the apartment I'd never lived in. I thought- "Fuck it." Suddenly I shot out my hand-directly between her thighs and rubbed the fleshy mounds under her short skirt. She reared back, moaned, and then thrust back at my hand, biting my neck, and reaching for my cock. I was hard in an instant as I felt how wet she was. She gasped.
"I wanted this," she grunted. "Why the fuck did you waste the whole evening talking about your new job? I've been wanting to fuck you all night."
"Shut up." I tore her panties down violently. They were soaking.
