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Milepost 432 to the border. How depressing.
It wasn’t the first time I had made this drive, visiting Lexie. I did not often have the opportunity, though. Frequently I would find myself back in the city when not traveling coast to coast, and every now and then I would get some time off. With the break in the frigid weather and a lull in projects at work, now seemed as good a time as any.
And I won’t lie. I just got out of a long-term relationship, and Lexie has always been very easy on the eyes. The chance to ogle her guilt-free was too tempting to pass up, and the fact that she didn’t mind me doing so made it all the more exciting. Now if only we could stash that pesky husband somewhere….
Really, though, I make the drive because she’s a great friend and was a blast to hang out with. You know the type, crazy redhead out to set the world on fire. She has since mellowed; I suppose settling down and bearing some children can tame even the heartiest of women.
I spent the remainder of the drive recalling some of our previous indiscretions: wacky house parties, streaking down Jericho Road, and more recently, the exchange of suggestive pictures or tale of a particularly fulfilling sexual encounter. The memory recall was certainly more entertaining than the endless rows of corn outside of my sedan. However, that familiar swelling and subsequent tightening of my jeans had me hoping that I’d have the occasional few minutes in the bathroom to myself during the visit. Flirty talk and chats of the “good old days” were sure to be on the menu.
I arrived well into the evening. It was a whole day trip, but it fortunately did not require an overnight stay. The front lights were on, and I heard the door open as I walked up. Clearly, I was being expected.
I grinned broadly as I saw Lexie’s smiling face behind the door, her other hand resting on her waist, just above her hip tilted askew. As had always been the case with her after long absence, I was caught breathless by the sight of her. Time seemed to have no effect on this woman, and pictures never did her justice. She was a classic beauty in the girl-next-door vein, with simple but striking features. Curvy in all the right places too, and always with that well-tousled reddish auburn mane of hers.
It was such a pleasure to see her that I wasted no time in walking up and embracing her in a big hug. She giggled at my enthusiasm.
“I thought you’d never get here!” She playfully slapped my shoulder after pulling back from our embrace.
I chortled. “Oh yeah, I took my time getting up here. All that farmland is just exciting you know.”
She closed the door behind us as I attempted to survey the surroundings. She had moved into a new place since I last visited. The lights were somewhat dimmed, so I had difficulty seeing the more distant features, but I could make out a couch, an entertainment center adorned with a television, and what looked to be the entrance to the kitchen.
It was then that I noticed it was very quiet. It wasn’t so late that the kids would be in bed. I turned to Lexie and inquired, but for all I know what came out of my mouth could have been a recipe for banana bread as I took in the sight of her. I don’t know if it was the indoor lighting or my eyes had adjusted to the dusk, but I finally noticed what she was wearing.
If you were to run through a “What Turns Me On,” checklist, you could have ticked “All of the above” on this woman’s attire. From head to toe it was, multiple earrings, eyeliner, deep red lipstick to punctuate otherwise light makeup, painted nails, and a black choker adorned with a small silver charm. And that was just the accessories.
She also had on a satiny black tank with a plunging neckline (how did I not notice this right away?) exposing impressive cleavage. Once I could pull my Yalova Escort gaze away from alabaster-skinned tops of breasts–it took some effort–I noticed she was also wearing tight, stretchy, capri-length
yoga pants. Her legs were adorned further by a couple of anklets, and she was, of course, barefoot.
Lexie was pushing all of my buttons. At once. The question was, why? She patiently looked up at me with pursed, full lips and pressed the palms of her hands at her sides to the door as I finished my survey of her. The message was clear: You’re not leaving.
“The children are out,” she began to say, impassively. “With their father.”
Pieces of the puzzle began to click together in my mind. Certain things she had said before the trip, insisting I arrive on a certain night, at a certain time. I couldn’t figure it out at the time, but hell if it mattered now. And here she was, in her best seductive gear, waiting…for something.
Then I saw it for the briefest of instants–her tongue darted quickly, moistening her lips. Desperately hoping to myself silently that I was right about this, I took a step forward toward her, then another, until my face was close to hers, so close, closer than ever before.
At this point, I feel like I should explain; through all the times at crazy parties, or us caught in the rain, or sobbing on each others’ shoulder, I never got the chance to make it with Lexie. There was always someone or something in the way.
Oh, trust me, I wished countless times for this. From the start, Lexie always had that smile for me, furtive glances, carefully chosen flirty words. Yet it was later, much later, that we discovered a downright magical connection linking us. You see, we had a brief moment of indiscretion after she got married. Once prior on a visit, there was this energy in the air between us. You could cut the sexual tension in the air with a knife and it escalated for just a moment when we were alone. Lexie and I crossed a line that shouldn’t have been crossed for just a few seconds (a few blissful seconds) until cooler heads prevailed, but the discovery had been made. And buried.
Back to the dark room. After I made my approach, she took in a deep breath and looked into my eyes with what I thought was a bit of uncertainty. I was close enough to smell her faintly, freshly showered skin and washed, dried hair. Overcome with keening desire for this woman I had lusted over for years, I had a moment of clarity, and uttered words I was terrified I would regret for the rest of my life: “Lexie, you’re married.”
I wasn’t expecting her reaction. She laughed, a hearty laugh, long enough to make me take a step back, leaving me uncomfortable and unsure of what I just said.
“Yes, I’m married,” Lexie explained. “You see,” she began to explain as she ran her hands over my shoulders and across my chest, likely assessing her prey as yet trapped unawares, “We met someone recently.”
“At a friendly house party one night a while back. She’s a friend of a friend. We had drinks, well, I should say they did. My husband made no attempt to hide his attraction toward her. Pathetic really. The man practically was drooling on the floor.” Lexie was clearly disturbed by recalling the evening, and even looked a little hurt as she began to explain further.
“I saw them talking with each other, the way he looked at her, the way she looked at him. It’s been a while since he looked at me that way. The way you are now,” she whispered with a faint smile.
“And, as you know, things haven’t exactly been wonderful between him and I lately. So, we got to talking, and struck a bargain.”
The lust returned in her eyes with a fiery look that pierced me to the core. “Tonight, he’s holding up his end of it. Now kiss me before I go crazy, damn you.”
I Yalova Escort Bayan did as commanded, never the type to turn down a woman in need. Fireworks practically went off in my head. My lips pressed to Lexie’s, my tongue dancing with hers, my hands started to roam her body. Again, I felt the incredible energy between us, unlike with any other woman I had been with before. Layered on top of that, I was drunk with the sensation of intimate contact with this woman I had known so long, and with giddy anticipation of extinguishing years of wanton lust.
At the same time, all those thoughts crept up in my head uninvited. In the back of my mind I concocted a scenario where the husband would drive up unawares, come in the door with primal fury, the swing of a fist, and a swift end to our tryst. More to the point I wondered how this would change things with Lexie. She had been my rock, the shoulder to cry on for all my adult life and more.
I was just starting to lean on the side of “fuck it” when I felt surprisingly strong arms crisscross my upper back and neck. Breasts, impossibly soft cushions, pressed into my chest, even softer than the lips I had been devouring for god knows how long. That was it, there was no turning back.
I took in the sensations–damned if I was going to forget a second of this as long as I lived. I breathed her scent as I mouthed her neck time and again, felt a shock as she suddenly ran her hands underneath my top and up my back. She cried out a moan as I squeezed a clothed breast, hard. I had hoped she didn’t mind because I’d no intention of being patient, or gentle. She responded by turning me around and pressing me into the door as we continued to make out like a couple of high school kids.
Pinned up against the door, she began her attack, biting my ear, nibbling my neck, pressing her soft body into me time and again. I couldn’t go anywhere and there was nowhere else I would have rather been. Her hand moved down, down, down, at a maddening pace. Finally resting on the now-pronounced bulge in my jeans, she let out a satisfied sigh and felt me up.
I just about fainted with her gentle manipulation, only imagining how could it could be when I finally discarded the jeans I’d been sitting in for hours.
“Lexie,” I sighed. I began to speak, but she silenced me with a look.
She then spoke in the softest voice I’d ever heard. “Shh. Don’t say anything. This is all a dream. A wonderful dream. It’s not time to wake up yet.”
Regaining control of my senses, I moved away from the door and pulled her over to the couch I saw earlier, hoping that I wouldn’t smash myself into some coffee table I hadn’t seen in the dim light. We sat down, and I resumed my exploration of her body. Like a child with a new toy, I greedily dug my fingers into her bra, sought out a pert nipple and squeezed it with urgency. The feeling of the
hard nub between my fingers ran up my arm and straight into my groin.
Clothes flew off at that point, hastily removed and arrayed upon the living room floor in a mess. I explored her body like a hungry man who hadn’t felt the touch of a woman in years, nibbling on her ears, her lips, her neck, her chest. She moaned and shuddered in delight, letting me continue my ministrations uninterrupted.
I wasted no time in removing her bra and watched beautiful breasts tumble out, capped by reddened, erect nipples. Pushing her down onto the couch, I bit, I sucked, I licked, I pinched them between my fingers, I felt the heft of her breasts in my hands, I lost myself in the pure joy of what I finally had the chance to do.
Lexie moaned and writhed underneath me, and requested, “Please take my panties off. I’m sopping wet.”
I grinned up at her and released my hold on her breasts, heaving with the effort of Escort Yalova deep, rapid breathing. I descended to her legs and pulled the ends of black, skimpy, lacy panties down and off of her. Coming back up, I caught the scent of her sex and simply could not resist it. I looked down at her folds, glistening with moisture and throwing off pheromones that pulled me in like the song of a siren.
I spread Lexie’s legs and dove in, determined to bring her to orgasm with my lips, my tongue, and my fingers. I made contact with her again and again, elicting screams and back arching and everything else that made me sure I was going to have a hell of a grin on my face for days. I looked up at the ruby-tressed goddess this mere mortal had no business pleasuring and shuddered at thought of the delights to come.
I lapped, I pressed, I dug in and curled my fingers inside of her. She cried out, whimpered, and shook with my efforts and it was not long before she shook as climax overtook her. I lay there with my face pressed up against her, kissing gently as she recovered.
Minutes passed, the sounds of our heavy breathing filled the cool, air-conditioned air. Lexie began to pull me up, and I got up and leaned forward as she reached between us and began to stroke me lightly. I looked down at her hand, and sighed in delight at the sight of seeing her lightly painted nails running up and down the length of me. As she ran her hand up and down the length of me, I recalled the gentle bite of those nails on me as she lost control moments ago. Her grip became tighter and more urgent now, and she guided me on top of her.
I desperately wanted to press into her then and there, as I had countless times before in years past, but a bit of reason won through as I paused. I made eye contact with her, seeing big green, dilated eyes. There was lust in them, but they also told me what I suspected—this would probably never happen again. I took in the length of her, from hair splayed out on a sofa cushion down, down to my ultimate destination. I burned that image in my memory, truly one of the most beautiful sights I had seen.
Baser lust took over and I gasped as I pressed into Lexie, and I feet her velvety slick walls grasp me once my full length was inside of her. The intense sensations of the evening had been growing in intensity, but the feeling of being inside of her was overwhelming. I cried out in shock at the intense pleasure. Instinct and muscle memory began to take over as I started to slide in and out of her, but the exquisite feeling was too much and after a few minutes I struggled to establish a good rhythm for both of us.
Without a word, Lexie gently pressed her hands against my chest and I sat back. She motioned for me to turn against the couch and straddled me, placing her knees to either side of my legs as she sat down, facing me. She reached down and guided me into her once more.
She was in control now, dictating the pace, the pressure, the sensation. She rode me at a quick clip, grinding her hips into me and rocking back and forth. Hair, so much hair was above me and I heard her ragged breathing at my ear along with whispers and whimpers of pleasure. Then she found an excellent pace. I threw my head back and my jaw dropped, my mouth agape in silent agony. She must have read me well, as she kept up the pace. A minute later she presented her bouncing breasts to me, and dropped a pointed, rigid nipple into my mouth.
The combination of feeling Lexie’s nipple between my lips and her riding me expertly was too much to bear. Our rhythm must have been good for her too, because she cried out in orgasm as I began to tense up and in no time at all I emptied myself into her depths.
We lay there, spent, for what seemed like hours. Lexie was pressed up against me as she stroked my hair softly. I held her in a warm embrace and began to chuckle to myself.
She pulled back with a slight scowl and asked, “What’s so funny?”
“I was thinking I should have asked for more time off,” I said with a smile.
Lexie shook her head at me with a smile and began to kiss me again.
Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
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