As I walked back to my car I attempted to block the thoughts and images out of my head. What did I just do? I cheated on my husband with a woman! One that lives above a leather sex shop! What the hell has come over me?
As I drove home I looked at the clock. It read two-thirty. I had left this morning at nine. How long had I been in Eleanor's' loft? How long did I worship every inch of her gorgeous inked skin? Hours.
I pulled into my drive way with climactic memories in my head. My pussy began to dampen with the thoughts that came. How delicious her pussy had tasted. How soft the lips of her sweet little pussy were. How warm the metal of her labia piercings had felt against my tongue.
I felt a hand rubbing my pussy through the slacks I was wearing. How mortified I was when I realized it was my own! That was exactly what I needed right now. Someone mentioning to my husband that I was fucking myself parked in our drive way.
Lingering thoughts of her drifted through my mind like the smell of her earthy, sagey loft wafting off my clothes.
As I entered the bedroom I began to strip on my way to the shower. A trail of clothes followed me; a path of sage smelling cloth. As I stepped into the steamy shower I caught a whiff of her skin. Our sweat had mingled as we rubbed our bodies against each other. I wonder if she would pause as I had when she smelled me on her skin.
Would she even remember my smell?
I didn't have the emotional energy to analyze why I was so worried that Eleanor would remember my damn smell. As the hot water hit my body I was glad for its powerful stream. My muscles had been stretched and contorted into positions I hadn't even tried when I was a young, limber teen.
Then again, no one had ever stretched me and warmed me up like Eleanor had. Not only did she build my orgasms until I thought I would be ripped apart when I finally came; she stretched my legs, my arms, my body. Slowly contorting me into positions that displayed my pussy wide open for whatever she wanted to do.
My mind went back to those climactic moments. This time I was more conscious of moving my hand down my wet soapy body. I gasped and sputtered water as my fingers reached my clit. I was so sensitive! I wished I was sore.
I wanted Eleanor to pound me so hard that I couldn't take anymore. She had remained methodical and gentle with her fucking. At the time I was so relieved and glad. Being out of my comfort zone had shaken me up and left me confused and fragile. Now I wanted to ache. I wanted her to beat me, fuck me until I cried for her to stop.
My fingers were positioned on either side of my engorged clit. I squeezed it between my fingers and felt it pulse beneath my touch. I moaned as I took my other hand and began to pluck my finger across the tip of my nipple. The hot water ran down my face, dripped down my neck, and slide across my breasts. It felt so heavenly. Close to the sensation of Eleanor's warm mouth when it encircled my hard little nipple.