Nothing Lie Rainy Weeend Sex

There was a different smell in the room. It was something that you hadn't smelled in such a long time. It was a heady mix of salt air, sex and breakfast? How did breakfast get into your house? The last thing you remembered was.....oh boy.

Darren had called you. It wasn't a dream! The throbbing sensation that can only come from a steady pelvic pounding was Exhibit A. The wet spot in the bed was Exhibit B. Exhibit C was in the other section of the suite, preparing a mimosa for you. Dang, he looked good! His robe flowed across his body like a warrior's cloak. There was no mistaking that it was not a dream. You had been pounded mercilessly and drilled well by your ex-boyfriend, Darren.

Your favorite breakfast was waiting for you. It was very tempting to grab him and re-enact some of the steamier scenes from the night before, but you needed food. Looking on the floor, you slipped into his shirt from the night before, letting his signature smell envelop you. He was reading the paper and called you. As you reached him, you pinched your nipples ever so slightly to get them erect. Similar to last night, your answer was physical, not verbal.

You managed to approach him ever so silently and hug him from behind. As you eased your hands across his chest, your nipples protruded from the cotton dress shirt. His head lay back and rested in the valley of your bosom. You placed a tender peck on his forehead and darted away before it led to other things.

The breakfast was exactly what you needed. Two eggs, fried hard with bacon and grits. It tasted even better when someone else made it. A pitcher of mimosa and you were perfectly fine. But you still had to know, so here goes.

"Darren, how do I fit into your life now? ", you asked. "What if I can't get a job near you and I have to move?"

Darren put his paper down and replied calmly, "I plan on telling my supervisor that I am going to need to have some leeway in that regard. The company is very big on family, so they appreciate having management with families. They have a track record of supporting younger executives. It doesn't look good at first, but it pays off in happy employees later."

As he spoke, you ate your food. It seemed too good to be true. Part of you said that he only came back to lock in the management slot. But the sensible side of you remembered what Mrs. Ferguson had said. He was miserable without you. You were miserable without him. He looked to your face for some type of answer or response.

There was no sound as you finished your plate. His face seemed confused as you smiled and placed the plates on the return cart and slid it into the hallway. When you turned around, your body yearned to have him. Actions speak louder than words, so you decided you yell your response.

The white dress shirt slid off and you walked toward your man. He was yours, no one else's and if he was willing to make a go of it, so were you. "Darren, I am willing to go where you go and make this work." As you whispered these words, your manicured hands disappeared between your legs. Standing just mere inches away, you gave him a show. Your acrylic nails slid in and out of your creamy pussy. He tried to get up, but you told him no. This was your show and present to him. The room seemed eerily quiet as you played with your clit. Somewhere in your memory banks you recalled hearing that writing the alphabet on the clit was a great way to achieve orgasm. As your left hand held the lips open, your right darted into the folds, making your pussy talk. That squishing sound seemed like a waterfall in the quiet room. Every now and then, you would write a letter on the clit. As you reached the letter E, your knees got weak. After H, Darren began stoking his cock. No sooner had you gotten to O when you felt fluids running down your leg. It was warm and flowed freely. A less-experienced woman might think she was peeing.

But you knew better. That was the tell-tale sign that you were about to come. Darren seized the moment and stripped his robe completely off. That big-assed cock stood in the air like an old Cold War era missile. You decided to show him how much of a freak you could be. As he stroked his eight inch long dick his head leaned back. He loved to see you play with yourself, but this would be something new. You moved forward, lining your steaming pussy up with the thick cock. Before Darren knew what was happening, you had slid the head into your opening. With one downward motion, you impaled yourself. Your insides were on fire and tears welled from your eyes. As the back of your pussy was being battered, you started to quiver. Your sugar walls were trembling in anticipation. Darren tried to stand up, but you pushed him down. Slamming your hips down like a jackhammer caused him to look at you funny. Darren didn't know that exercise sessions had taken the place of sex. Last night was all him, but now you were going to show him.

Your hands pressed down on his chest and you used him to lift yourself up. He tried to feel your breasts but it wasn't that kind of party. When you pulled him out, you brought your lips just to the crown of his cock and slid back down with force and speed. Your orgasm was building and would not be denied. It was a different kind of stimulation now. The clit was an afterthought. The walls were slick and pulsating. Darren came first and he exploded into you. His cum was mixing with your juices and settling at the base of his cock. You lasted three more bone-jarring impalements before you flooded him and his thighs with your cum...