Just like the first time this one felt like the last, like the only time. She chided herself for being so weak in the same breath that she promised herself this one last time. Her heart was dangerously close to betraying her again. Her head was screaming warning signals that were going unnoticed. But neither her head nor her heart were involved in this decision. Her thickly rolled bun came down in tumbling gold waves despite her head and buttons came undone one by one despite her heart. He was being quite helpful as he roughly unbuttoned her shirt and cupped her soft warm breasts in his large hands, his calloused thumbs circling her taut nipples rhythmically.
It was a dance. It was a dance they had danced a hundred times before, though always different and exciting, he made sure of that. This time was very different. This was the last time and they both knew it. That fact could not stop them now; in fact it seemed to drive them harder as if one last rough fuck would bring some closure to their shattered relationship.
She couldn't remember who had started it first. Her thoughts were too fuzzy with lust to care. He had come over to get the last of his things from the apartment and she had wanted to talk to him to make him see that there was still something left worth fighting for. There was danger in his eyes, she had seen the warning sign and had deliberately ignored how dangerously close he was to exploding. She knew that he hadn't had a good fuck since he'd left two weeks ago. He needed one, now, and she knew how to give it to him.
He must have had the same thought at the same time because she had suddenly realized that she was being tossed onto her bed with her shirt half unbuttoned and her lips burning with his rough kisses. Her eyes stroked his entire body, noticing in his stance that he was not only ready for serious business but that this was a ride she'd probably be saddle sore from in the morning. The idea just made her wetter and she licked her lips in anticipation.