[Okay, so this is a very personal post for me. It is still a work in progress and has a LOT more work needing done, as well as most of the filth to actually be covered. There is a lot of romance and emotion, which most people are not looking for in their usual sex story so I can understand that it won't meet any needs for anyone willing to read it.

I'm nervous as hell about posting it, but was encouraged by a new friend on here to get some feedback to help improve on the next chapter. I'm nervous because this story has taken me too long to tell.

Try not to be too hard on this one. I'll brace myself just in case though. Constructive criticism please ]



I have been trying to write this account for longer than I care to admit. Over a year in fact, and for many reasons, I start to write by hand or on my keyboard and the words begin to dry up. I do not think I have the vocabulary or the emotion to do my story any justice.


When I think back to my time with him, I remind myself of all the reasons why our relationship did not work out. It is kinder on my heart this way, because the chemistry has never dissipated and my need to be with him is frequently rekindled. Our lives took completely different paths. I have never had to get over him, because despite the past weighing heavy on my heart, we have always been friends. When he talks about his conquests and love interests, I'm never riled by his tales and I have never felt jealous. I believe he deserves happiness, regardless of where he may find it. However, I am also the first to voice my concerns when I think he is being taken advantage of by anyone.


So now, we are at a stage when we have been apart far longer than we were ever together. He always comes through for me. It sounds awful to describe him like this, but he is one of those people who is really good at knowing what to say when you are having a bad time of it. It is probably why he is one of those men who likes a project girlfriend. He seems to be attracted to women who are damaged and need rescued. For my own clarity, I would like to point out, that I was never a project girlfriend. I tell him all my secrets, whether they leave me feeling ashamed or proud, because I know he will not judge me for my indiscretions.


The memory I have been focused on in particular happened just over a year ago. He would be kind and say that I was having problems in my personal life. I would say that I was grieving and simply existing in my day-to-day life rather than living. He was a great support and a good friend during a very difficult point in my life when my heart was broken as I felt that God was sticking pins in my friends and family and taking them from me.


It was during this time that I was spending a few days in a city close to his home. I spent time with friends, I drank cocktails, I enjoyed shopping and good food and tried to relax after such a stressful time. So we did manage a short catch up in the evening and it was fun and friendly, as well as flirty.


Two nights later, it was different. I had arranged to take another of my friends back home with me for a few days and on this night in question, I tried to convince myself that this was the only reason for my extra night in the hotel. I could have managed the round trip in one day. I could have arranged for the tickets to be collected by her and just picked her up in my home town, but instead I arranged our travel plans together and stayed for another night in the hotel. I shouldn't say that it was for him, or for the hope of being with him, but I think subconsciously, that was my intention. I wanted to see him again - just for a drink, for an hour, for two, for the night, for always, for whatever notion that had taken over my head and heart that day.


Thankfully, the notion must have played on his mind too, as he responded positively once I let him know that I was staying for another night. I did not want it to look planned or pre-arranged but as soon as he offered to meet me, I knew that I wanted him in my bed and I set the lights low and the music in my room to softer tones. There were no doubts about what I wanted, only if I had the courage to follow through on my daydreams.


I don't remember a time when I felt as nervous, as I waited for him to make the short journey into the city. I tried to watch CSI on the television as I waited and grew increasingly antsy. I studied the hotel's cocktail menu and considered room service but I eventually put on my heels and went to the hotel bar. The short walk and change of scenery may have helped to clear my mind, but not my nerves.


The night bartender did not know how to make a Cosmopolitan so I had to talk him through the mixing of the relatively simple drink, barely more adventurous than a vodka and cranberry juice. Unfortunately, I am one of those women that started drinking Cosmopolitans after watching a lot of Sex and the City and fell in love with the drink that will never go out of style. I drank the first one of the evening quickly, easing my nerves, stopping my mind racing and then I eased myself into the second one, still sipping slowly at it when he arrived. The alcohol successfully killed the question running through my head: “What the fuck am I doing?”


I don't think I voiced my concern although I have no doubt that my nerves were showing. And as he sat opposite me, I told myself that it was just one more time. I was allowed to crave him this one time.


In the elevator, I could barely look at him. I felt the need to kiss him, to touch him and to reassure myself that I wasn't being crazy. I feared I would get lost in the kissing and find myself pressed up against him in the small space. But my nerves were too strong, my body shivered, and we maintained our distance as we exited the elevator towards my hotel room. As the door of the room closed behind us, my body seemed to sigh and I began to feel less nervous. I can't remember ever feeling that nervous before, even when I lost my virginity many years before. And there is always the fear that I am not on the same page as the man in front of me, this beautiful man who knows me from a past life. An intimate romantic past life.


I have never been as cliché to describe him as the one that got away. I like to believe that he is the person that made me believe in 'the one' though. Something about us was kindred, especially the way we used to fuck.


We sat on the couch in my hotel room talking and within moments, I felt his lips on my neck and heard the gasp leave me as my body melted against his whilst he worked his way along my collarbone. It was all too easy to find my lips pressed against his and my hands lightly running up and down his arms.


He took to his knees between my open thighs and tasted me through my panties. Our clothes became discarded as my dress and bra hit the bedroom floor and we were soon both naked on the hotel bed. I straddled him, kissing him deeply, feeling my mind get foggy as alcohol and sex took over. He manhandled me until my pussy was right above his mouth. He teased me with a finger at first, being very gentle with me and then replaced his finger with his tongue. I felt my hips rock back and forth with his tongue inside me as I sat on his face. This was what I wanted, needed in fact. I needed him, to want me, like this. Fucking me with his tongue, tasting me, indulging me. He began to suck on my clit as my hips continued to rock. I could feel how wet I was getting, juices dripping onto his face. My body rising and falling against his willing mouth underneath me. I held onto the headboard in front of me as my orgasm hit. My body responded with my legs shaking over him and my clit sent a surge through my body as all my muscles tensed. I writhed over him, unable to hold my own weight and rolled off him. I lay there in my orgasm afterglow, feeling my thighs wet and all my frustration leaving my body.


I was only granted a moment of respite as he moved to give me breathless kisses and he held me close as he leaned over my body. I could still feel my orgasm tingling through every inch of me as he slid his cock deep inside me. It almost hurt as my pussy felt raw and tight around his cock. I wanted to hurt and feel stretched out by him. I felt filled by him and we were soon moving together, with his hands running over my hips as he pounded into me. As he filled me with each thrust, I arched my back to meet him. I wanted to get lost in fucking him. I wanted his cock to stay buried inside me for as long as I could take it. He took my nipple between his teeth to make me groan. My legs were still shaking as my pussy massaged his length as he started to fuck me harder. I moaned into this neck because the sensation was so intense. My clit was so sensitive and rubbing against him with every thrust. Our fucking became frantic, our bodies sweaty against each other as we moved in sync, grinding against each other. His cock slammed into me one last time as his load filled me. His cock erupted inside me and I kept circling my hips, holding him inside my pussy. I could feel his cum and mine leak from my pussy, coating my thighs and ass as he lay buried inside me.


I trembled as he slid his cock out of me. I immediately wanted him back inside me, filling me again. He lay on the bed beside me and I moved to kiss him softly, reminding him that we were so good in bed together. He really did not need the reminder – he could feel it, just as I did. I kissed at his neck and along his collarbone, working my way down his chest. I ran my hands over his chest and replaced each caress with kisses. I worked my way down his body, aware that he would need very little persuading for another round. I took his cock in my mouth, soaked in our juices and started by kissing gently over the head, shaft and balls, trailing my fingers over him. I gripped the base of his cock as I licked the length of him, only stopping to tell him how amazing we tasted. I sucked half his length into my mouth, enjoying feeling him get harder with every movement and flick of my tongue. The taste of us on his cock was enough to send me over the edge as I slid my lips up and down. I moved on top of him, kissing him deeply, letting him taste us.







[More to follow, if I find the courage to post any more of it]

 

HuH?

 

This story, as posted, is FAR better than average. I think you have a very good style and pace to your writing and I hope you continue with this. It genuinely sounds like a hot, sexual encounter described from the female perspective.

 

Thank you for the encouragement and kind words

 

Mmmm! I love the thought of being him :rose:

 

Hopefully you'll work more on it with someone other than me eager to see it through to its conclusion

 

This is incredible. You have such an erotic soul and writing skills! Can't wait to play with you on Skype xoxo

 

Thank you sunshine. I am still working on the next section of this, x

 

very nice

 

Quite an incredible read, my dear lady. You have a lovely writing style; great pacing, excellent vocabulary, and glorious detail. This is a lovely story. It's clear that there were moments of great passion, and you conveyed that beautifully.

We can all only hope to have such wonderful sex with someone :rose: I'm sorry if he's gotten away, but you don't need someone to treat you like a project, just someone to appreciate you for you, please you magnificently in the bedroom, and compliment your every notion

 

Continued...

I moved on top of him, straddling his torso and kissing him deeply, letting him taste us. As I kissed him, his cock pressed against my pussy once more, with our cum dripping over his cock. He sat up as we continued to kiss, his cock parting my lips feeling the tip slide inside me as we kissed with more intensity. I moaned into his mouth as I moved down on his cock, taking him into me again. My lips never left his whilst my hips rocked back and forth, his cock buried inside me again. My eyes flickered open as we kissed. I wanted to soak it all in, the sight of him, his skin warm and flushed as he thrust his hips up to meet mine. My fingers grazed his neck, along his collarbone as I kissed him, and then my fingers teased the hair along the nape of his neck. I felt filled by him, my pussy stretched open for him, my soul bare to him whilst my body ached for his touch. His hands cupped my ass, leading his fingertip to press against my tight hole. As he pushed his finger deeper, I felt the need to grind my clit against him. Our subtle movements against each other began to rise in tempo and as we fucked, I started to lose my breath. Our bodies grew slick with sweat as he thrust harder. He blessed my neck with kisses, making me moan. He knew just where to kiss, which buttons to press. His lips moved lower, taking my nipple into his mouth before biting down gently. My hips bucked against him. I moaned louder, telling him that I wanted to feel him cum inside me, that I needed to feel him fill me. I felt smug as he answered my request because within moments, his cock exploded inside me. I could feel him trying to catch his breath as his cock shot cum into me. My body shook against him, my pussy shuddered with the force of his orgasm.

His orgasm had sent a surge through me and as his body seemed to relax in the aftermath, I lifted my pussy off him, his cock easing out of me, covered in cum. Less than gracefully, I faceplanted into the pillow next to him, breathless and in need of recovery. He ran his fingertips up and down my spine whilst my pussy leaked cum onto my thighs. I was only granted a temporary reprieve. He moved on top of me, straddling my legs with my body still face down in the mattress. His cock was still hard and pressed between the curves of my ass. His cock slid inside me easily, my pussy still soaking wet from our orgasms. My body shook underneath him again. We had been disentangled for mere moments but his cock filling me still managed to make me gasp. I was still shocked by how hard he felt. He worked his cock in and out of my pussy, slowly at first. He planted kisses along my shoulders and neck, whispering in my ear as he fucked me slowly. In the moment, I wondered if I was having an outer body experience as I could hear the moans and feel our bodies against each other and yet, I could barely recognise my own voice and our movement felt so connected, raw and corporeal. Time ceased to matter and the world outside seemed to be far away from us rather than just outside the window of our hotel room. He whispered all the things I wanted to hear – how it felt to fuck me, how incredible we are together, and I got lost in his words and the sensation of his breath on my ear and neck as he whispered dirty things to me. His words made me moan more and I reached my hand underneath us, reaching down to tease my clit as he continued to fuck me. My body felt so highly sexed, I did not anticipate his orgasm this time, but as he started to cum, I tensed the muscles in my pussy to hold his cock tightly, holding him inside me. His third orgasm of the night moved through us as hard as his first one did, and he stayed buried deep inside me for timeless moments of ecstasy.


Once he slid out of me, I rolled onto my side whilst he lay next to me. We spent an undetermined amount of time talking, kissing, being with one another. I rolled away from him and he curled in behind me holding me as I floated into sleep. I slept deeply for a short time and when I woke, his arms were still around me, holding me close, occasionally pressing his lips against the nape of my neck when I stirred. I felt his cock against my ass, and I longed to rest up enough to fuck him again. Just once more...


We rested for a few hours until his alarm woke us and burst the affectionate bubble we were existing in. I couldn't move as he slipped out of the bed to gather his clothes. I felt numb – still glowing from an amazing night and also unable to breathe, wondering if this was it, the end of our last night together.




Crouching at the side of the bed, he kissed me sweetly for the last time and I shut my eyes again as he picked up his keys and closed the door behind him. Closing my eyes only blocked out reality for a few moments. I rolled onto my other side, moving into the warm space in the bed, where he had been lying next to me. He left me with the thought that this could be our final chapter. But I do not want to look back on this night as merely a great story in our history. Our hours together mean more to my life than that.



I may be guilty of romanticising the event but as he kissed me before he left, I reached out to tell him to stay, to never leave me. But I held back all the things that I wanted to say, knowing that we had our chance already, almost a decade ago and it didn't work out. All I would have is the memory of a past relationship and this night in time, which would live eternally, buried inside my soul. We return to our lives knowing that our time together is always stolen and becomes our own creation. We don't delude ourselves that it is more than this night. I don't want him to leave me and hold onto the impression that I'm always looking backwards, to a time when I was his. In some ways, I would be his for always, even if he walked out of that hotel room and never looked back.


That night had forever changed me and yet, it would remain a treasured memory in the form of my darkest secret. Our time was precious and fleeting and I returned to my life feeling more whole, remembering his touch on my body and heart. In the weeks, months and years to come, I would question all the repercussions from that night, but I would never regret that time – I would cling to it, keep those feelings alive forever, and know that my greatest achievements had stemmed from a night of losing myself and finding myself.




With hope...

 

still incredibly glad you finally finished this