I didn't have to turn around to know that he had entered the room. He had this vibe...this presence...this je ne sais quoi that spoke to me beyond the things he could physically do to my body. Mentally, I tried to ignore that he was there. I tried to shut out the memories that had been riding me in my dream, refusing to let me sleep...a touch so real that when I pushed up from the lulling waves of slumber and breathed in the air of reality, I physically shuddered from the release as if he had physically removed his mass from my vaginal walls.
How we met is of no consequence. He is who he is, I was who I was and for a brief few months we enjoyed the pleasures to be gained from each others bodies before he left and I remained with a gaping hole caused by the fire that he had lit in my soul and in my cunt.
I could smell him. Soap and water combined with the scent of Perry Ellis Red...but underneath that a more masculine, virile scent that spoke of great beasts of prey sniffing at the wind until they picked up the scent of what they would devour, toying and prying and playing with their food before swallowing it whole in one magnificent gulp. I closed my eyes. God help me, I wanted him.
Four years.
It's been four years since I've seen him or spoken to him or been next to him and right here...right now...my pussy called to him in such soft, trembling mewing sounds that I clamped my legs tightly together in the event that he really could hear her.
I walked towards the bar and ordered a dirty martini, taking a quick gulp before I gathered up the courage to turn around only to find a hard muscled body pressed up against me, stopping me from fully facing my predator.
"Baby-luv", he whispered into my ear, his fingers reaching out to steady my trembling hands that were in danger of spilling the remainder of my drink onto the table. His other hand snaked up under my jacket towards the curve of my breast before softly squeezing and releasing my side as he stepped away. I turned to face him and waited for the onslaught of emotion that I would surely feel, completely surprised when none came. None of the hurt of his departure or the love that I though I'd felt. In it's place was lust. Pure, unadulterated lust. I wanted to fuck him.
Tipping the remains of my martini into my mouth, I rolled the olive around slightly with my tongue before chewing and swallowing the salty morsel. I could feel his eyes of my lips as I licked the last bit of vodka from my lips before moving past him towards the rest room. Like a dog awaiting dinner from his master, he followed. Walking out into the hallway he grabbed on to my waist and pulled me up against his cock. I could feel him hard and throbbing, ready to burst through the material of his immaculately pressed suit. It was my cocktail to celebrate my call to the bar, afterall, and as one of my referees when I made my application to become a barrister, he had accepted my invitation to the little soiree.
I pushed him into the bathroom and closed the door. As I turned, he pushed me up against the door and allowed his hands to make their way down my arms, onto my waist before curving over the roundness of my ass and gently squeezing the firm, yet plump flesh. Watching him, I unbuckled his pants and shoved my hand through the opening of the zipper, feeling his hot hardness touch the cool of my fingers. Easing my fingers into his boxers I lightly stroked my fingertips over his cock before staring him dead in the eyes.
"Tell me you want my lips on your cock", I said