After our hushed conversations online, all I can think about is that first time we stole away in secret to acquaint ourselves. We met openly in a park and walked hand in hand along one of its sparsely traversed trails. You kissed me on the mouth straight away, and for the next hour we couldn't keep our hands off each other. Though we railed against taking each other right there, out in the open, we parted with plans to meet again, more privately, and I arrived home mesmerized. I remember our kisses with such vivid clarity that I have clung to those memories this whole week waiting to be with you again. It is the first thing I think about when I wake up in the morning and the last thing I think about before I sleep. I try to remember your warmth, your scent, your taste: the feel of your warm lips upon my breasts. Though I try to recreate it in my mind, all I am left with is an insatiable want that my trembling fingers cannot satiate alone. A want of nothing else but you...
The day has finally arrived. I drive to the hotel, a woman, in aching desperation for your touch. I feel no guilt with what I am about to do: My body does not have the strength or the want to deny you will. You text me the room number and I knock on the door. You answer and take me in your arms as strongly as you did when we first met: your strength further arousing my achingly wet pussy as the soft flesh of my breasts is pressed up against your chest firmly. All the while your stiffening cock pushes against my trembling stomach. I have painstakingly planned out what I am wearing -- a black cocktail dress with a plunging neckline and a black thong. As you start to rub my back, you kiss me hard and deeply and I feel that pointed tongue of yours jut in and out of my mouth. I feel the moistness of as it is intermingling and I struggle against myself not to lose control of my desires as your hand finds its way up my dress rubbing my ass seductively.
