Sometimes No Means Yes

The day started like any other: The sun rose, it founds its way across the sky, and it invariably sank into the horizon; but, something in the way the wind blew, made it a day set apart.

They had known one another for a long time. He was a successful businessman, who's business it was to make other people money. She was a teacher. They hadn't spoken in almost a year; but, as with two souls whose very beings were intertwined, time mattered not.

He was attending a meeting in her home town. She was at a wedding, and the reception was at his hotel. Neither of them knew that the other was there. Both of them had thought of one another often in the past year.

He was coming back to the hotel from his meeting. His jacket was off, and he had just loosened his tie when he saw a beautiful woman. She was dressed in a fuchsia sundress, with a white cover. She had on white stockings and had a fine, full figure. Something about her was familiar though.

At first, he couldn't believe his eyes: "was it her?" When she felt that someone was watching her, and turned to see that it was him, she stopped cold. Looked around, and then slowly walked to him. Hugged him closely, and simply said: "I've missed you."

They looked into one another's eyes, and the words seemed to stop. They both looked around, and then hand in hand, they went to the elevator.

On the way up to his room, all they could do was smile at one another. The looks in their eyes spoke volumes. Nothing had changed: Only the setting and the circumstances. Nothing else.

When they got to his room. They kissed. It was a kiss full of meaning. Longing. Passion. Desire and sorrow. It had been too long for both of them.

When the kiss was ended she looked into his eyes, and said: "Freddy, I can't . . ."

The words hung like smoke. They were both obviously aroused. Passion filled the air. Not a word was spoken: The only sound was a loud unzipping of his pants.

She looked down, and his engorged cock stood at attention for her. It bobbed of it's own will, and was seeking out for her warmth. He took her hand and placed it on her cock. He hand was small; his cock was large, but not too large for her to handle. The head was about the size of a large plum, and it throbbed in her hand.

She silently shook her head: No . . .

He smiled at her and gently pushed her down to her knees. His cock throbbed in front of her face. It winked at her invitingly. He looked down and saw her staring at it. The longing that she felt was in her eyes. Her breathing was fast, and her cheeks were flush.

As if in response to her desires, but against her conscious thoughts, her hand began to slow slide up and down his cock. It felt good. Almost too good.

She looked up at him, then back down at his cock. She gave the head a quick kiss. Using her tongue to scoop up the pre-come from the slit. She smiled at him and said: "I can't . . ."

He looked down at her and said: "Suck my cock, and if you can still tell me that you don't want me to fuck you: I won't."

She paused to consider. Every nerve end in her body was pulsing. Contradictory thoughts and emotions were tugging at her brain. She wanted to leave, to stay, to laugh, to moan, and most of all she wanted to say no: She started to suck on his cock.

She started on the head. It was large, but not too large for her mouth. She sucked with desire, with longing and with the knowledge of what he licked. She bobbed slowly on his shaft and her tongue wound its way around his head and thickly veined shaft. With one hand she stroked him, the other busily played with his balls.

As she was sucking his cock, he lovingly looked down upon her. He had been waiting too long for this, and he wanted it to last for the rest of his life.

She was beautiful. She was a blonde with a body to die for. Angelic face. A musical laugh and smile. A heavenly chest and a body to die for . . . and she looked even more beautiful inhaling his cock. As he looked down, he could see that she was wearing a white lace bra and that her large, firm chest was straining against its confines.

He was lost in his thoughts, in the ecstasy of the moment, when she stopped. She stopped and he looked down. She pulled his cock from her mouth and said, softly: "No. . . "

She slowly stood up, her hand not leaving his cock. She looked him in the eyes, and kissed him. Her chest was mashed up against his, and the kiss lasted forever. Her hand never leaving his cock nor slowing down its movement.

When the kiss was over, she let go of his big dick. She turned around and walked towards the door. When she got there she paused. Then she stopped. He thought she was going to turn around; but, she didn't. A long-winded sigh escaped her lips and she grabbed the handle to the door . . .

When the door closed behind her, tears began to fall down her face. She knew what she wanted and what had happened were one and the same. She wanted to be in there with him. She wanted him to fuck her. To fuck her repeatedly. He wanted to ride him. To come all over his cock and scream out his name. She wanted him to fuck her in every conceivable way. She wanted to stay with him all night; and when morning came, she wanted to start the next day the same way the night before had ended: With his big cock inside of her. She wanted, no needed him to take her, to dominate her, to take care of her, to eat her, to suck his cock, to have him bury his cock inside of her and become one with her. To lose herself in his eyes, his arms, his cock, his smile . . . She wanted him to come inside of her. On her. All over her luscious tits. She wanted to rub his cock juice into her skin and to taste him, and feel him shooting down her throat . . . She wanted, she wanted, she wanted . . .

When the elevator arrived, she looked back at his room, and then got on the elevator. "Yes, " she said, as the elevator carried her back to her life. "Yes, this is the right thing . . ."