Temptation is ever strongest in solitude, and so it was now. There was no one with her but the thoughts of him. These thoughts were like wild horses whom neither bridle nor spur could keep within their proper meadows, and she had seen how lost she could be when she thought of riding him hard. Something about the thought of him invited her into some delicious place of enchantment where pleasure reigned unchecked.
She remembered their first time together as if he'd been a sorcerer who turned her will to his purpose. The power of lust had taken her up in its arms. It swept away every resistance until all that remained was this incredible moment of surrender, even though she knew it would have hurt to let go, hurt worse than any pain or pleasure they might cause each other. That knowing made it sweeter still; then the memory began fading...
It took three tries before she found what she sought among those old memories. She recognized the same taste on her tongue again: sweet as honey, thick as cream, warm as blood, cool as water, fresh as morning dew, strong as wine. It flooded through her body just as surely as when he thrust his cock into her, spurting forth his cum. He was waiting for her here inside these walls, giving her more by way of remembrance than she could ever give back. Even without thinking about it consciously, she felt the welling up of tears at the sense of loss. How utterly unfair that she couldn't feel quite as profoundly toward him because he belonged to another meant she didn't dare look upon this as anything but self-indulgence. If only she dared do more...But what? The thoughts swirled around like snowflakes in an eddy of wind and whirled off somewhere else entirely as her fingers worked her wet cunt, thrusting in and out, then circling her swollen clit.
"What are you doing?" asked a deep voice behind her.
She spun about, startled. Her fingers came away sticky with her nectar from her masturbatory revelry.
"I'm sorry," she gasped, looking down at them. "I...um...how embarrassing."
Then she looked up into his eyes and blushed hotly all over. He laughed. She snatched the sheets and dropped a hand across her chest to cover herself, mortified by her behavior and so aroused that it hurt. She tried hard not to show it, though it must have shone out of her eyes like sparks. His smile widened.
"You were thinking of me. That's very flattering," he said, "but perhaps you should stop before either of us gets carried away."
Then he reached for her hands and drew them gently away from her body, brushing kisses on both palms as if memorizing their texture before letting go again. As soon as he released one of them, she brought it back between her thighs, where she continued rubbing until she could bear the heat no longer.
He stepped closer until they almost touched. "You can't stop yourself," He said, surprised. She knew his surprise was real because she'd seen that same surprise in his eyes when they first met. That was something else to hold close to heart; that memory alone would last a lifetime, even without the taste that had come after.
She turned aside in embarrassment.
