“You can’t look at me like that, Iris, baby. You are going to make me come before I even touch you,” he groans.
“How am I looking at you?” I rasp.
“Like you want to devour me.” He reaches down, stroking his cock once.
“I do. I have imagined having you in every way there possibly is. In my pussy. Down my throat. From behind. I have had over ten years to imagine you in every scenario. You have been the star of my fantasies for a decade,” I tell him.
His breaths come faster. “Fuck, you have been in my spank bank for as long, if not longer. Do you remember that little yellow skirt you used to wear?”
I nod, wondering what ever happened to that skirt.
“I used to jack off in my office every time you would wear it. It was both a blessing and a curse when you ripped it.”
I tilt my head, looking up at him. “I ripped it?”
He nods. “Yep. I had to drive to the closest store to grab you a replacement. It wasn’t quite the right size, but it worked until you got home. I still have that skirt in the back of my closet.”
My eyes widen. “You don’t.”
He nods, leaving me to head into his closet. He comes back with a very familiar-looking skirt with a rip down the side.
“Why did you keep it?” I ask.
“Because even though I was in denial about my feelings for you, they were there. I hated myself for beating off to images of you, but I rationalized that as long as they stayed in my head, they were okay. This was something tangible that I could keep of yours until I could have you for real.”
I wave him closer. He drops the skirt and steps up to the bed.
“I’m here now. I told you I have imagined everything with you, so why don’t you show me something you imagined with me? Let me help you live out your fantasy.”
He swallows hard before he climbs on the bed. “I don’t have a condom. I haven’t slept with anyone in years.”
“I know. Neither have I. I’m on the pill. If you are comfortable going bare, so am I,” I tell him.
“Are you sure?” he whispers, leaning over me without putting his weight on me.
I spread my thighs, wrapping them around his hip until I pull him forward. I can feel his cock at the apex of my legs. He feels so hot. I want to feel that inside of me.
“I am beyond sure. Please, Max. Stop teasing me.”
“Never, but for tonight I can go easy on you,” he promises. “Hold tight, baby.”
He notches his cock at my entrance before he slowly presses inside of me. I was right that he is a stretch, but it isn’t unbearable. I’m so well lubed up by my own release that he slips inside with little resistance. Once he is fully inside, he looks down at me, his eyes glassy.
I feel my own emotions swell up inside of me. This really was inevitable. I can still remember the day I met him in that coffee shop. I thought he would think I was crazy.
Now, a decade later, he is inside of me, making me feel things I never thought were possible.
I am so in love with this man.
He must be feeling something similar because he leans down and gives me a slow, languid kiss. I melt into it, trying to convey my feelings to him the same way I feel he is trying to do with me. When he pulls back, I look up at him.
“I love you, Max,” I whisper.
“I love you too, baby. More than I thought possible. More than you will ever know,” he whispers back to me, kissing me once more.
He pulls out slowly, thrusting back inside. I keep my thighs around his hips, meeting him thrust for thrust.
This is more than sex. This is all of our emotions wrapped up in one action. He is making love to me, and I love it.
