The soft cotton of her white panties felt unbearably ecstatic against his silky cock as he stroked himself with them. The scent of her was permeating the entirety of his senses, and he could see her beautiful face and body, and feel her hair brushing his face, and her warm flesh on top of him. He could taste her sweet mouth against his, and hear the desperation in her voice as she begged him to penetrate her. The longing he felt, having been kept away from her for weeks now, culminated lusciously into the closest orgasm she'd given him in what felt like ages; even as she was miles away at the sex club getting her pussy wrecked by strangers in order to stave off the loneliness of his absence.
He didn't know that the heartache of his haunting proximity--now that he was sleeping in his broken down car outside of her house--was too much to bear for both of them. She knew if she didn't go out, she'd be overcome with desire and beg him to come inside. She couldn't do that, not after what he did. He wasn't allowed to have such a hold on her anymore after that. So, she would leave, to fulfill that craving in a safe place, leaving him alone to do the same.
Even though he made such an egregious and heinous mistake, he had always respected her consent, and deep down she knew he was being manipulated when he did it. Of course that didn't change the fact that he did it, but it didn't change how much she loved him either. She just didn't have the strength and energy to let him back into her heart and her home; however she had graciously given him access to what was once their home, once a week, so that he could shower and do his laundry, and sleep for a while in a warm bed. At least while she was gone.
Although she imagined he might cum in her panties while she was out, knowing what an impossibly insatiable pervert he was, she never believed he would actually do it. He remembered they had talked about it once before, when they were still together. She remarked that it wasn't something she was comfortable with, but he couldn't help himself at this moment. Her smell, and being this close to her, was everything, captivating him; he missed her so deeply, he had to release this urge, so that he could leave before she came home like she asked. He worried that he wouldn't be able to help himself if he didn't do this.
Stroking vigorously with the soft delicate cotton sliding along his shaft and his tip, the ecstasy built upon itself, growing like protozoa. Unfortunately confined within his cock, it was nonetheless the single greatest feeling his body could create by itself. His legs tensed, and his feet pointed down as the euphoria grew stronger. Unable to go anywhere but out, the pleasure jumped over the edge, and his dick spasmed as the thick semen pumped out, pushing through the fibers of the panties and soaking the bridge of them completely.
'Dear Gods yes. I fucking needed that. Thank you baby,' he thought to himself as his muscles relaxed, and he rested upon her pillow. His breath steadied, and his cock throbbed hard with his heartbeat, aching for more. It wasn't enough. Although he lied there satisfied, he knew deep down that he had to have her. He could lie to himself for now, having just finished, the post-ejaculate clarity making him feel like that was all he needed. Anything past this was wrong, and he shouldn't do it. No cumming in the food he cooked just for her so he could cast a love spell. No cumming in her conditioner--or her fucking panties--so that she could wear his essence all day long. 'And absolutely no fucking waiting for her to get home to ambush her, you sick fuck,' he scolded himself, rolling his eyes, and looking up at the dream catcher she still donned above her bed.
But fuck he wanted her. It was such an incredible feeling, being here again, where they slept together, cumming into her lingerie, while she's out getting fucked. Oh how he missed eating out that messy little cunt when she got back full of semen, and pumping her full of more. The jealousy didn't exist back then. He was completely content with her having other partners, and even compersed by it. He loved how lively and exuberant she was after. But now that he couldn't have her anymore, it nearly sickened him to think about other men filling her up, because he couldn't. If only he could have her, just once more; have the goodbye he was denied. He longed to take her on this bed, against the front door (and the back, so everyone who walked by could see her getting fucked through the glass), on the kitchen and bathroom counters, on the floor, everywhere. He needed it. And as his cock throbbed hard still, he took it, and allowed the lubricant from the time prior to fuel his pumping. He didn't know that after this next orgasm, he would fall asleep.
He awoke to the sound of his phone ringing. It was her. He shot up, snatching the panties off the bed, and answered with a hasty, "Yeah?" She wanted to know if he had left or not, now that she was home. He knew that he shouldn't lie to her, but it just slipped out, "I'm in my car."
"Okay, thank you for respecting my boundaries," she said sweetly, and hung up.
He waited there, in the shadows of her room, his cock still out and filled with blood, stiffening evermore with each step she took up the stairs on the other side of the wall. He tucked the panties into his boxers, right next to his balls, as she unlocked the door, and stepped over the threshold, hidden behind it, and then there she was, looking as beautiful as she had the day he left her, closing the door behind her and locking it. Blissfully unaware of his presence, thoroughly fucked, and her cunt sore from the fat cocks of the men she met at the club. He had to have it too. It was too much knowing other men were getting her when he couldn't. That was his fucking pussy, and deep down she knew it. Even though they were polyamorous, two years of being nesting partners had made them both entirely codependent.
He stepped out of the darkness, grabbing her from behind and clasping her mouth shut. She tried to scream and struggle for a few seconds, being slammed into the door by his weight, before realizing it was him. He had shushed her so gently, but the smell of him was too obvious. He was clean, his clothes were clean, and he had brushed his teeth, but the smell of tobacco still emanated from his breath, mixed with the smell of pine and patchouli and Old Spice, his favorite mixture. He was immaculate, and the energy pulsing from within his spirit was overwhelming to anyone who got to experience it like this. She was powerless to stop him now, and as her breathing slowed, he sniffed her like a wolf on a doe. She closed her eyes and let the feeling of relief and arousal wash over her as her swollen pussy heated and began to moisten even more than the cum that was dripping from it did.
"You're going to be quiet about this, aren't you, little pet?" he asked her gruffly in her ear as he held her tight to his body, his dick pressed up against the small of her back. He used that deep growling voice that she loved so much. Gods she missed this, she missed him; yet she hated him for what he did. Her heart was still racing though from shock, or anticipation, she didn't know.
"Mhmm," she muffled through his hand, and looked at him through the corner of her eyes as he peeked around her periphery.
"That's my good girl," he replied, kissing her cheek with a growl, and squishing them together as he made her look at him before gently kissing her pouty lips, and allowing his hand to wander along her body with the other one. "I missed you. I missed you so badly, and you've been such a tease being so loving to me still, but keeping me so far from you. Loving and hating me. It's been torture, do you know that?"
"I'm sorry my Lord, I know I've been unfair to keep you away from me, while loving you from a distance. It just hurt too much. You hurt me. But now that you're here, I know that it hurts more having you gone. I need you. I need to worship you, and take care of you, my God, my Master, my Father. I'm so sorry, I love you so much." Her heart poured out like a waterfall, breaking down the rocks of his heart, and that slight anger he felt so acutely.
He kissed her again, and began to move down her body, while his hands explored her as if it were the first time. "That's what your Father needs to hear, my sweet child," he whispered, spinning her to face him and pushing her back against the door as he shoved the panties into her mouth. He kissed her full mouth and kissed down her neck to her supple breasts, planting little thoughtforms with every kiss that would reach into her and inject love into her soul before dissipating. 'Did he do that intentionally?' she wondered, moaning softly with each kiss, feeling each one ignite her passion further. Now down her belly, all the way down to her feet, lifting one gloriously off the floor like it was a priceless heirloom, and kissing it gently. He was showing such adoration and praise, and loving her with such a devotion that one would think a God shouldn't give, but doing it so artfully, and with so much love, that it could only be done by a God. And He was a God. Her God. She needed to proselytize His Name and His Love, and He needed her worship and praise.
