I’ve Always Craved You

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I’ve Always Craved You

My chest felt like my abdomen had dropped away and my heart had fallen to the floor. All I could do was reread that message again and again.

“I never stopped desiring you. I want you still. I always have.”

“Are you serious?” I typed back, hands trembling, heart palpitating. She had to be joking. There was no way she was going to say-

“Yes.”

My eyes went wide and my breath left my lungs. I crept to the threshold of the bedroom. My wife lie asleep, unsuspecting. I closed the door quietly and went to my study, locking the door behind me. “We should talk,” I messaged her.

“Are you alone right now?”

“Yes.”

My phone jingled as a video call request arrived. Shit…what happened to just a regular phone call? I brushed my hair with my hand as best as I could, straightened my clothes, and answered. And there she was, the same woman as ten years ago. More mature, for sure. Perhaps a line or two had appeared in her cheeks, but the same beautiful, brown, doe eyes, the same ravishing, chestnut hair, the same elfish smile. “H-hey…” I managed to choke out.

“Hey, Peter,” she answered, smooth as silk and cool as a cucumber. The phone drifted downwards an inch or two, revealing her bare, toned shoulders and her beautiful collarbones emerging from her body, elegant and strong. Not a stitch of fabric was visible. Very interesting… Just how much was she wearing?

“Are you serious, Michelle?”

“I said I was…”

“It’s been ten years.”

“I know. Believe me, I know. Feels like a lifetime.”

“And all that time, you’ve…” I couldn’t even finish the sentence. Luckily, she could.

“I’ve always craved you.”

“I don’t know what to say.”

“Tell me you feel the same way,” she said, her eyes suddenly hungry. Again, the angle lowered. The top of her chest was visible, the swell of her breasts apparent at the bottom of the screen. She was almost certainly topless. I couldn’t help but remember her perfect breasts, still the frequent object of my daydreams, round and full and breath-takingly firm.

“I’m married…” I began. She simply stared back, her eyes piercing me. I knew that was just an excuse. It wasn’t false, but I was avoiding the truth. “But I…I feel the same,” I confessed.

She beamed. “What if you had the chance to do something about it?”

I looked up at the door, confirming I was alone, before returning my gaze to her. “I’d take it.”

A cock suddenly appeared in front of her chest. No, not a cock, a dildo. She glanced down to it and back at me. “I’m going to be in town next week,” she told me, kissing its head, her lips hugging its curves. She caressed it with her lips, softly massaging its tip with her mouth. My cock throbbed to life, instantly hard and ready. I knew just how skilled she was at that particular talent. She opened her mouth wide and engulfed the shaft, inch after inch vanishing between her lips. My hand lowered to my pants. I just had to stroke myself. I needed to relieve some tension. How badly I wanted that to be me, to feel her hot, warm, tight mouth around my cock. My fingers moved deftly up and down my shaft, just enough to make my pleasure simmer.

She slid the toy out of her mouth and began to bob her head up and down, focusing on that glistening shaft. Her eyes locked onto mine as she performed. She let it come out her mouth with a wet sigh. “I’ll be staying at the Marriott on amatör porno Third. Room 216. Thursday. Arrive at nine o’clock, Peter, and I’ll make sure you won’t regret it.”

I swallowed deeply. This felt unreal. Just a few minutes ago we had been reconnecting as old friends. She had messaged me, we had talked a bit, and now? Had this been why she had reached out to me? “I want this,” she told me, resting her dildo against her lower lip. “I want yours. I want to give you the night of your life.”

“I don’t know if I can make it…” Could I do this? My feelings were a confused tempest. I had meant it. She had always been my one that got away. And suddenly I learned not only was I hers, too, but she craved me? Was this really happening?

“I’ll wait for you. And Peter?”

“Yeah?”

“Don’t cum until then. I want all of it for myself.” And before I could reply, the call ended. I quickly typed out the details of next week. I feared I already knew what I was going to do. Could I really do this? Could I live with myself if I did? Could I forgive myself if I threw away this opportunity? I rested my face in my hand and sighed.

* * * * *

It was Thursday. I stood outside of Room 216. It was only 8:47 but I couldn’t wait any longer. I knocked on the door. Already, my cock stiffened against my pants, simply from the cavalcade of fantasies passing through my mind. The wait felt interminable. Yet blessedly, it ended as the door swung inwards.

There she stood, her legs clad in sleek, black stockings, a vibrant, lilac robe covering the rest of her, loosely-tied and open wide enough to make it obvious she wore no bra. Her chestnut hair was tied up in a bun, but a few loose strands hung in front of her face. Her pink lips smiled at the sight of me. “You’re early, Peter,” she observed, her eyes unhurriedly looking me up and down.

“I couldn’t wait, Michelle.”

“Come in,” she beckoned, opening the door all the way. I stepped in. My heart raced. I couldn’t tear my eyes away from her long legs, striding in front of me. She reached the bed and turned around. “Did you do as I asked?” she questioned, nodding towards my crotch with a mischievous smirk. I nodded. “Good. I’m famished.” A shudder went through me as she said it. She held out a hand and beckoned me towards her. I gladly obliged.

She grabbed my shirt and pulled me in close, her soft lips meeting mine. I closed my eyes and let myself fall on top of her as she lay back onto the bed, my hardness pressing between her legs. She moaned in delight and wrapped her legs around me. She took my wrist in her hand and guided me to her full, firm breast. I squeezed hard, passionately, her nipple pressing eagerly against my palm. I caressed and rubbed her breast as we kissed, my cock throbbing against her, already threatening to explode after a week of denial and frustration.

Her hand pushed against my chest, breaking our contact. But her coy smile assured me that nothing was wrong. Her robe had been totally opened by our movements. She wore nothing beneath it above the waist. Only a lacey pair of black panties, accompanied by matching garters and stockings, all decorated with tiny roses along the hems, hid her body from my sight. I groaned at the sight, and my hands lowered to her waist of their own accord, gripping her hips, my fingertips on her fabric, ready to tear her delicates off in an instant.

“Wait,” she gasped, her breasts heaving as she panted, anal porno catching her breath. “Tonight’s about you. Just trust me.” I nodded. Whatever she asked of me at this moment, I couldn’t imagine denying her request. She gently pushed me off of her until I was standing between her legs. She stood up, her body gliding up mine, her bare breasts grazing against my shirt before she spun aside and away from me. Her soft, delicate hand took mine and led me to the wall. “Stand here,” she requested.

She lifted my hands above my head, pressing her lips against mine, her tongue exploring my mouth and lips. I barely noticed a quiet click from above, but the sudden resistance against my wrists was impossible to miss. I looked up at my hands in handcuffs, wrapped around a lamp. I returned my gaze to her, but not for long. She pulled out a dark blue sleep mask from her robe’s pocket and slipped it over my head. It felt stupid to ask what she was doing. I knew I’d find out soon, but until then, everything went dark.

I felt her fingers at my shirt, slipping my buttons out of their holes, my shirt slowly parting. Her hands rubbed against my chest, her fingertips circling around my nipples, then going lower, to my abdomen, and lower, to the waist of my pants, and lower…

I gasped. She squeezed and giggled.

“Mmm, just as big and hard as I remember it,” she cooed, stroking my cock through my pants. I bucked my hips towards her, desperate for more friction, more pleasure. “You have no idea how many times I’ve thought about your perfect cock, Peter. Every time I slip my vibrator inside me, every time another man enters me, every time, it’s yours I’m imagining, wishing I could have this moment again.”

Her hands went to my waist. I could feel the gentle tug and mechanical whine of her unzipping me. Another pull, and my pants were down. Her fingers walked up my thighs, going up my boxers. A hissed curse escaped past clenched teeth. Her nails brushed against my loins, through my pubic hair, assiduously avoiding my manhood as her fingertips danced around me.

How long could I resist her teasing? My cock buzzed and tingled. I feared that a single stroke would be all it would take to push me over the edge, and yet I wanted nothing more for her to grip my cock in both hands and stroke me slowly to an explosive orgasm all over her gorgeous chest.

“Are you enjoying this?” Michelle whispered.

“God, yes,” I replied. “More than anything.”

“Good…” Her hands stopped and pulled my boxers down from the inside. My cock swung free, suddenly unleashed. She gasped. “Oh my goodness, how I’ve missed this,” she purred, placing her hands onto my thighs. Her mouth was so close to me I could feel her breath on my cock. My whole body stiffened. She was so achingly near… If she just lowered her head a few inches, I would be between her lips…

I tried to peer through the bottom of the mask covering my eyes, but couldn’t make out more than the thinnest sliver of light. What was she doing down there? I knew what I wanted her to do, but would she really do it? Would she really take my most intimate organ and wrap her lips around it?

I felt her back away. Her hands departed from my body. I exhaled deeply, testing my restraints. I needed relief…

Light suddenly poured into my eyes. The mask was off. Her round, chocolate eyes were just inches from my own as she embraced me tightly, my hardness trapped between us, anal breakers porno throbbing against her stomach. She gyrated against me, forcing my cock up. “I really want to make you happy tonight, Peter,” she said, kissing my neck between every few words. “Tell me you’ll let me. I want this so bad…”

“Of course.”

She placed her hands on my shoulders and slowly slid to the floor, kissing my collarbone, my chest, my stomach, until she was on her knees. Her hands grazed down my legs until they were on the floor, and she looked up at me, her mouth open, her eyes wide and hungry, her reddish-brown hair messily cascading around her face, her hard nipples poking out from her spectacular body. She placed her arms behind her back and arched, serpentine. Her long tongue made contact with the base of my shaft, and she slowly licked the entire length of my manhood as I squirmed, her touch electric, her hot, wet tongue going all the way to the tip of my head.

She sighed and, almost to herself, confessed, “I can’t wait any longer…” Her lips parted, and my cock vanished between them. Her warm mouth tightened around me, her tongue squirming and swirling and writhing around my shaft magically, as she voraciously sucked and bobbed her head. I had never seen her, I had never seen anyone, perform so enthusiastically, like she was suffocating and my cock gave air, like she was poisoned and my cum was the only antidote, like she needed it, needed me.

I wanted to reach down and stroke her face, pet her cheek, and call her a good girl, but my hands were trapped. I could only surrender to her hungry mouth. Her breasts jiggled as her body undulated back and forth. I thrust my hips towards her, desperate for more. She grinned.

Her nostrils flared and she closed her eyes as she took me deeper and deeper inside of her. Her muffled moans accompanied every gulp she took until her lips rested against my balls, until every inch of my cock was inside her tight, wet mouth. She opened her eyes and looked up at me with adoration.

“You’re incredible,” I gushed. She smiled as much as she could, and moaned. I couldn’t believe my ex, the one who got away, was deepthroating my cock, was devouring my manhood, unable to resist it. My pleasure rose dangerously. I knew soon I would be overwhelmed by it. “I’m going to cum…” She grabbed my ass with both hands and pulled me against her.

I groaned as my orgasm exploded. My cock spasmed and pulsated in its perfect prison, throbbing against her mouth and tongue, as my cum gushed out of me, pouring down Michelle’s throat. Without hesitation, she swallowed every last drop. My whole body shook, my legs buckling, my body weak. Her nails dug into my behind as her eyes closed and she quivered, her mouth still impaled on me, moaning loudly, her face flushed and nipples hard. She trembled on my shaft, yet never once let go of her prize. It wasn’t until my own ecstasy had subsided, that every last drop had been drained out of me, that she released my wet, satiated cock, looked up at me, and said, “I just came.”

“Just from that?”

She nodded and rested her cheek against my shaft, nuzzling against it. “You really don’t know how badly I needed to make you happy, Peter. I still feel like I’m going to wake up. This is too perfect. I don’t deserve this.” She looked up at me, “But you do. Just let me be your pleasure, Peter. Let me make you as happy as you make me.”

“Of course.”

“Promise?”

“I promise.”

* * * * *

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