Today I had to stop myself from going to him. I saw him through a storefront window and my heart skipped a beat.
I know he's bad for me in every possible way, but that thought doesn't stop the way my body reacts to the sight of him. My body tightened, my pulse raced and I froze in place, my eyes locked onto his muscular frame.
He was looking at a suit, something he always wore to work. His black hair was cut short, leaving just enough length to show he had some curl to his silky locks. I knew from memory that his eyes were a deep brown, almost black that seemed to peer into your very soul when he looked at you. His mouth was moving, talking to the salesman, a mouth with sensual lips that housed his talented tongue...
A car horn woke me from my stupor and made me move again but I couldn't take my eyes from his body, a body that caused me so much pleasure that I writhe every time I think about it.
The voice of reason inside my head kept reminding me how bad he was for me, how much he could hurt me if I gave him the chance. I shook my head, finished walking to my car, got in and drove away.
He was my favorite mistake. A dream of liquid pleasure poured into a hard frame. I sighed to myself as I pulled into my parking space. It was here, in the parking lot outside my building where it all started.
It had been a wonderful evening of dinner and dancing that ended in front of my building...
I growled in frustration as I got out of my car, locked it and headed up to my loft. I climbed up the steps and memory took me again.
His hands on my body, hot lips covering mine, the growing need between us ignited the summer air...
I bumped into the main door to my building, my memory shattered. Silently cursing to myself, I got into my building, hurried up the two flights to my loft and quickly got inside.
Once in, I looked around at the familiar sight of my coat rack by the door, the unopened mail on the floor, the full-length mirror in the hall.
I wasn't bad looking I guess. I was 5'6, rich brown hair that fell in curls down my back, deep brown eyes, full lips and a trim hour-glass figure. I knew I turned a few heads walking down my street, but nothing could compare to him...
He's been to my Starbucks at the corner from time to time, but I never thought he would even notice me until I picked up his caramel macchiato by mistake thinking it was mine. I laughed, gave him his drink along with my unlisted phone number.
An hour later, my cell rang and he asked me to drinks after work. I thought my heart was going to pound out of my chest. I agreed and we met that evening.
I shake my head now, thinking back to that fateful night. He was so charming, so handsome, and I was so naïve to think that he was going to be the one.
Looking at the bed now...damn these bad memories that feel so good!
Once we were inside my loft, there was no need for words. We tore each other's clothes off, ripping buttons and pulling down zippers, landing in a naked pile on the bed.
In between kisses he told me how beautiful I was, how sexy I looked naked...that bastard...his mouth left mine to travel down my body to my wet entrance. His skilled tongue teased my outer lips, causing me to gasp and moan my pleasure to the big room, not caring what my neighbors thought...oh God his tongue!
My eyes snap open, back to reality for a second. I was leaning on a support column, crossing my legs tightly together, but nothing could relieve the ache between my thighs like his tongue had...I growled in frustration and dove for the bed, allowing the memory to take me.
He pushed one finger in, followed by his flicking tongue, lapping up my juices as my lips gripped his invading finger. My hands were clawed into the red silk sheets, I saw the whites of my knuckles as I turned my head from side to side. I sat up enough to tell him if he kept that up I was going to come all over his face.
"Is that a promise?" he asked, licking the outside of my pussy. God he was bad!
I collapsed back onto the bed and gave in.
