Without a doubt, you were the sexiest woman I had ever had the privilege of fucking. You had a real woman's body, strong with just a nice layer of softness that accentuated your glorious curves.
And how exquisitely your curves fit in my hand! Whenever I got within reach of you, I had to have your softness in my hand. I didn't always indulge myself, out of respect for you, but whenever I could, I had to have physical contact with you. It was like a drug for me, and almost an addiction. Almost...
You see, the real addiction for me was your sweet juice. Even as I write this, my tongue is doing a slow dance across the back of my teeth just thinking, again, about tasting you. About fondling you, caressing you, and getting your engines revved...
I know you remember the night in the back of my pick up truck... We were parked in front of the MH, not 12 feet from the front door, but neither one of us could wait. We were outside as the evening settled, darkness enshrouding us and giving us a sense, albeit imaginary, of privacy. No one was about, but the excitement of imminent danger inherent with discovery served only to encourage us.
You sat on the end of the truck bed, your legs dangling over. You leaned back and that shirt-shoulder fell off you shoulder, exposing warm, brown flesh to me. Revealed also was my inner animal (you never did tell me what animal you thought it was). My mouth immediately watered and my belly tightened. The low intensity vibration between my legs had begun.
Oh, we tried to hold off... but only for the sole purpose of increasing the tension, the desire, and the lust between us.
I was immediately aware, when you failed to retrieve the errant shoulder/sleeve, that you wanted this! My knees weakened and I had to make a subtle move to better brace myself. My feet shifted slightly further apart as I stepped forward to lean against the tail bed, right between your legs. Deftly spreading them as I moved in, your glance was quite obviously excited, but it was excitement tainted with fear of discovery. Or was it guilt?
I've never been vindictive in my life... well, never with YOU, anyway... but the urge has finally struck me, 2 years later.
In this place, no one knows you. No one knows who you are, so if I write about you, it won't matter. There is no need, any longer, for me to be concerned about how you feel about this. Just like your actions that ended this relationship proved the same, that you had no qualms about taking my heart, shredding it and handing it back to me.
I am about to profane the sacred. I am about to reveal to the world what it's like to fuck you.
All for the crime of making me fall in love with you.
Fuck you.
Oh wait! I did!
And it was fucking great, wasn't it? When I pulled you in to me, you came willingly. We spoke about non-important things, briefly, all the while smiling like schoolgirls, and me, looking up every once in awhile to scan the empty street, one way and the other.
Sliding my hands slowly to that spot on the sides of your ribcage, but right under your luscious breasts, all I had to do was turn my wrist upwards, and they were in my hands; as I mentioned earlier, your soft flesh fit so exquisitely in my hands.
While conversing about the non-important, we inched and switched and squirmed until we were quite close. In fact, the only thing that would have fit between us, at that point, would have been my strap-on... but that came later.
I drew your body up against mine and our lips met in perfect harmony to each other. A somewhat gentle, exploratory kiss, I swear, I thoroughly gushed in my briefs when you opened your mouth under mine. My tongue found yours quickly. Curling even tighter into your body, my awareness of anything but your lips and tongue and mouth, was non-existent. There was only you, your warmth, your heat, your lust, your desire... your need!
It was a need that fed my desire to satisfy. My hands began to slide up and down your body, eventually finding their way under your t-shirt. I didn't even realize it was the T with the built in sportsbra. That was a nice surprise. Still, before I went under it, I drew my fingers and palm over your fullness, outside the soft cotton of the bra. I could already tell your nipples were starting to bud. I grinned in spite of myself, even while kissing you, and slid my thumbs under them. The other fingers slowly joined from above, eventually encircling the almost hard nub. Gently I applied very slight pressure as the circle closed. Enough pressure for you to feel it, almost; enough to make you moan into my mouth.