Sorry that it has been such a long time between stories. I have enjoyed reading thoughts about my first two stories and getting to know some of my "fans". This particular story happens as the summer months die down and the autumn winds arrive turning all that is green into oranges and brown. I had recently returned to Knoxville to pick up some more of my things from my husband's house (I say husband because at this point we are only separated, not fully divorced). A phone call to John and a brief car ride to Cherokee, NC finds me in his presence again. We met mid morning and had some fun walking around what I guess could be considered Cherokee's main street. A table hockey game or two, followed by Go Carts, and a chance to ride a mechanical bull was just a chance to laugh and have some fun. We shared an ice cream cone before we got in our cars and I followed him to Hot Springs, NC where we rented a cabin for the weekend. After he brought out luggage in, we decided to go for a walk on a nearby trail. It was gloriously peaceful and utterly romantic. He held my hand and walked behind me whenever possible, whispering sweet nothings into my ear which drove more insistently crazy with each syllable.
The afternoon began to wain as we came near a small creek. We stood in silence, listening to the chirping of birds until they seemed to die away. I honestly can not remember how long we stood there, his arms wrapped around me while I snuggled into him. There came a moment when I happened to turn my head and saw him looking down at me. I could have sworn that there was nothing there but pure contentment, mingled with desire there. Qualities that my soon-to-be-ex husband had lacked for many years and I had only found ever so recently during this past summer, with John. I smiled and turned into him so that I could better face him. He smiled and lowered his head, pulling me closer to him. Our lips parted and touched, tenderly and soft.
"Angel, I have missed you." He murmured against my lips.
I told him that I had missed him too and that I was glad that he agreed to meet me this weekend.
"I am glad that you called." was his reply as his warm lips brushed mine again.
I pulled myself away from his lips and took his hand, leading him to a large rock which was much bigger than either of us. I wrapped his arms around me and whispered into his ears to make love to me there. There was a smile on his face as my arms rose from his waist, drawing up the hem of his polo so that my hands could massage his chest and stomach before dipping lower and unbuttoning his shorts. When they fell free of his waist towards the ground, I found his already hardened cock and freed it from his boxers. I stroked it slowly, enjoying the torturous look on his face. Despite his moment of weakness, he was still able to find the button and zipper to my own shorts and he hurriedly pushed them down my legs. I sensed his urgency, for it equaled mine and added to the delicious feeling of illicitness which was warming my body. Our sexual relationship, born out of frustration and anger months ago was definitely more open than most, but this... this was something torn out of the scenes of some tawdry romance novel. I felt myself becoming slick and wet at the sight of his cock. Timid because of the sheer size of it, he was much larger than my husband and most men I had seen -- even on the television up to that point and even now, that I think about. A thought which makes me rub my legs together as I write this story. I was also becoming hungry for it. To have it inside me and fill me to the point of bursting.
John lifted me by my waist and set my back against the hard rock behind me. I remember whispering something in french, but it escapes me as I write this, because all I remember is his cock sliding inside me. It was slow and very deliberate and I felt every centimeter of his heat as it entered. I clung to his shoulders as I experienced the overwhelming sense of both pain and joy, both of which were extremely intoxicating. I rose into his down stroke, wanting more from him.
John's grip tightened on my hips as he gave me what I had silently requested. One month away from him, and by extension sex with him, had been almost too much to bear. I had grown so frustrated in my daily routine that I had begun to masturbate in the tub and in bed when I thought of having sex with him. What I had now I tried to find elsewhere, the proof was with the two men I had sex with in between my time with John. Neither could provide me with what I was receiving now.
My head swirled, higher and higher, my body grew hotter with each pulsating thrust of his magical hips. I was free of the shackles of my past and I cried out his name and various pleasures as the storm built within me. It was the exilerating bliss of flux and flow which had me caught in the moment. I looked into John's eyes and saw him watching me. I saw him watching what he was doing to me. I smiled deliriously and drew in my bottom lip, clenching it hard as our gazes met and locked. I remember that gaze to this very day, a carnal bewitchment that still has hold of my soul and sends my libido rising up in either revolt of what I have now or exultation of what I experienced. I don't know which.
My belly filled with nervous excitement that soon began to spread to the rest of my body. I felt the sudden rush of warmth fill my being and John's gritted teeth and more insistent thrusting took my own pleasure to another level. I felt like I was going up on a roller coaster, the constant pressure and thrill of the great drop was eluding me. It got to be so much that I began to cry, tears streaming down my cheeks. John continued to thrust into me, his cock seemingly harder now than before and every thrust seemed to be a tease that served as a reminder of what was eluding me.