I’ll never forget that moment, meeting him in the lobby that day, when I turned and locked eyes with his. He was exactly the way I remembered him, a tall domineering presence walking towards me. I knew instantly I was in trouble and thought to myself, oh fuck, here we go again…
Sitting next to each other in a little corner coffee shop, he was abnormally close, the sides of our bodies touching and it was hard not to notice how he was pushing his leg up tight against mine. It was freezing that day and he took my hands to warm them in his, catching me off guard with his forwardness.
I commented that it was good to see him again and he replied in kind. I couldn’t help but stare at his face in stints that were far longer than what are socially acceptable. I was reconnecting with it, my eyes tracing its contour, noticing his strong jaw line, the overnight regrowth that’d started to appear and instantly wanting to cup my hand around it and put my face next to his. He felt it, uttering something about how he could feel my eyes burning into him, jolting me out of my daydream state, somewhat embarrassed.
Shortly after, he smiled and said simply, “come here” and wrapped his big arms around me as I nuzzled in tight. My heart was racing, but it didn’t stop me noticing how completely natural it felt to be locked in that warm, reacquainting embrace, which we stayed in for more than a few minutes. It’d been eight years since we’d last seen each other, yet it quickly became clear that despite the amount of living we’d both done in that time, the different paths we’d followed, the distance that separated us – nothing much had really changed between us. It felt like a day hadn’t gone by since I was last in his hold (or his bed). Our connection was definitely still there, perhaps it’d even intensified? It was confronting, powerful and seemed uncontrollable. I was once again on this crazy ride. MB and SG reunited. It was fraught with peril and we both knew it.
Returning to his hotel, the atmosphere was charged and I was already beginning to feel the carnal vibe of his demeanour. Walking into that room, knowing we were finally alone, I wondered how this was going to play out. I wanted him, but I was scared to get close, knowing our situations were beyond complicated. Yet something was still driving me. I could’ve left, but instead I stayed, knowing that whatever was to come, it was about to get interesting.
I took my jacket off and he instantly turned and asked, “I thought you were cold?” I joked that he needn’t worry, since I wouldn’t be taking anything else off. Without thinking, I was already walking over to the bed where I sat down, kicked off my shoes and pulled a blanket over me to keep warm. Immediately, he was right there, sitting by my side.
I lifted the blanket up to invite him in, smirking cheekily. He smiled back and snuggled in underneath. All these acts – taking my jacket off, moving to the bed, welcoming him in under the blanket – they were almost out-of-body. I would mentally kick myself in the moments after thinking, what the hell are you doing?, remembering how he brings this side out in me, how the usually reserved ‘me’ was instantly showing that forward, sexually assertive behaviour around him – again. And whether it was conscious or sub-conscious, a part of me knew exactly what I was doing.
A few minutes passed by as we sat under the blanket together. Even without touching, the chemistry between us was electric. He turned towards me and I instantly recognised that puckish expression he sometimes has, beginning to creep over his face. He said those words again, “come here”, and opened his arms, inviting me to lay with him. I didn’t hesitate. I wasn’t exactly sure whether he intended for me to face away from him, so we could spoon, but I somehow found myself suddenly facing directly into him. Fully clothed, our bodies fitting together perfectly, we held each other as tightly as we could. I was hit with a striking contrast of feelings – in a way, he felt new to me, as of course he was not my usual lover – yet he was so very, very familiar. It was conflicting, but I couldn’t help but immerse myself in him – his body, his skin, his scent. I’d been aching for this and here it was. I felt alive again.
Holding me close, his hand made its way to my lower back and underneath my top, it was cold, making me wince forwards, pushing into him. He reacted by pulling me even closer, drawing my body up tight against his. His mouth hovered over my neck and I could feel his warm, moist breath on me. Then came the brush of his lips – those lips – the lips I can never take my eyes off – the first thing I ever noticed about him. Then he moved his hand up to my neck and pulled my scarf down hard and started to softly kiss the base of my neck, causing my pulse and breath to quicken.
His mouth continued exploring, moving up towards my face, inching closer to my mouth – almost searching for it, and every time he came close, I would turn away so our lips wouldn’t meet. He was unrelenting, kissing me all over my face, everywhere except my lips, his face all over mine, his beard stubble brushing against my skin. I could feel myself beginning to shake from what was nothing other than pure, unadulterated lust.
My senses were alive with everything that was just, well, him. I was losing my fight against an uncontrollable urge to meet his mouth with mine and just let myself go. I whimpered into his ear, “don’t kiss me”, causing him to pull away from me slightly and hold my stare, giving me that stern, savage look of his – the one that makes me crumble. He took a handful of my hair and firmly pulled my head back, exposing my neck, making me feel even more vulnerable than I already did. Enjoying my defenselessness, he moved in to devour my neck, taking what we both deep down know is rightfully his. I was quite literally dying inside. Dying because I wanted him beyond belief, to allow myself to succumb to this insane attraction I have towards him, to be his again, just like I used to be and yet I just couldn’t, because, I just ‘shouldn’t’.
With absolute finesse, he gently guided me down onto my back, cradling me in his arms as I clung to him tightly, us both holding onto that closeness between our bodies. The feeling of his weight on me was so recognisable, as was the feeling of togetherness, nothing had changed. In that moment, everything was exactly the way it used to be.
He pulled all his signature moves, reminding me in every moment what it was like to be with him all those years ago (not that I’d ever really forgotten) – throwing me around on the bed; a perfect balance of rough to smooth, swiftly and easily manoeuvring me into all sorts of positions like I was nothing more than a doll – yet it was all seamless and I knew he had me controlled the whole time. That’s him, and my body knew it. It hadn’t forgotten. Each time he did something, I would catch myself with an ‘oh, yes, that’s right’ thought, taking me straight back to what it was like in our early days of uncomplicated, mind-blowing sex.
He sat upright and placed his legs either side of mine, restraining me with his weight and the grip from his thighs, and as I laid there on the bed looking up at him, we both knew who was in charge. Then, without any hesitation, he slowly lifted up my top, revealing my tummy and leant down to kiss and mouth my bare skin, making me quiver with anticipation at what he was about to do next. As he started to move lower, I placed my hands around his head, feeling his hair between my fingers. He kissed every part of me along the way and each time his mouth touched me, I would naturally push my hips up towards him, telling him how much I wanted him without saying a word. Moving further down, I watched his masculine face finally arrive in-between my legs, his mouth pushing through my micro-thin trousers, greedily biting down onto me, gently groaning into my pussy and lifting his head up to look at me through those deep set eyes, begging me to let him make me cum….fuck…!
I was beginning to lose myself, he was taking me to a place he describes as ‘elsewhere’ – that place where I’ve lost all inhibition, control and conscious thought – where I’m completely overcome by the intensity of what’s happening to my body – aware of absolutely nothing other than him taking me closer and closer towards what is bound to be an almighty, thunderous orgasm.
There’d been an intense build-up during the months prior to us meeting, despite us both trying to suppress and deny what was happening. I told myself before we met over and over again, there was no way I could let myself go there with him, as much as I suspected I might want to when I saw him again, I knew it wasn’t the right time. Yet I’d been craving him for so long, how could I stop what felt so unbelievably intrinsic to me? I wanted him and he wanted me, but I couldn’t let us take that step when our lives were still anything other than straightforward. Nevertheless, there was no doubt in my mind about how much I desired him – it was more than ever before, which astounded me. The chemistry, quite frankly, was out of this world.
After using his face, his lips and even his teeth to toy with my now-aching pussy, he came back up from between my legs and put the full weight of his body on mine, sinking me into the bed. With only our clothing separating us, imagining him fucking me wasn’t hard to do, feeling his rock hard cock pushing up eagerly into my thigh. My mind was simply begging for him, yearning to feel him inside me. He was squeezing me as tightly as he could, compressing me so hard it made it close to impossible to breathe, his hands exploring every inch of me, pulling me into him whilst driving his hardness into my pussy in a way that made me feel might actually split his jeans. I could feel myself going limp as I started to give in, I was starting to pant during the short breaths I could take as he’d occasionally loosen his grip on me, I was beginning to tremble, it was all coming back to me, he was coming back to me – a reawakening, a familiarity like no other.
As we rolled around on the bed, I was falling apart. Laying beneath him, he lifted my leg up from behind my knee and pressed it back towards my hip, pushing me down hard, exposing me and thrusting into me, pinning me down with his throbbing cock. I’d catch myself making slight moans of rapture, realising after each sound that I’d let it out and would tell myself to stop. I was trying to hold them in, but I simply couldn’t – my desire for him was, to put it simply – animalistic.
Before I knew it, he’d effortlessly placed me on top of him. He was leant back against the headboard with me perched on him, straddling him, my legs out wide over his waist. Instinctively, I began thrusting into him; I was succumbing to the inevitable and let my head come down to his, our lips finally meeting, realising how much i’d missed them.
He asked me if I was wet and I of course knew the answer – as after all, I’ve never known my own wetness like I do when I’m with him, but playfully I told him I didn’t know. So, with a devilish glint in his eye he asked if he could check. This question he asked me – it suddenly took my mind back to the last time we were together all those years ago. We were walking down the street late at night, the tension had been brewing all evening as we’d enjoyed a few drinks, but we’d managed to be ‘good’, until that stage. Out of the blue, I said I felt like I was wet and his ears pricked up, wanting to know more. I invited him to find out for himself, which he did without a second guess. Standing there in the street, I turned to face him and he slid his hand inside my skirt, up my inner thigh and inside my undies. I was drenched and he couldn’t believe it, his jaw slightly dropping before we moved in close and into that long-awaited kiss. He hadn’t even touched me up until that point, he hadn’t needed to…
And here I was again, with that strong sense of déjà vu. I was so torn, no matter how much I wanted to let him touch me and let him once again discover my wetness himself, I knew it wasn’t the right thing to do and so, to my own disbelief, I said no. He reacted by telling me to check myself. I followed his command and slid my hand inside my underwear to meet my soft, shaven pussy and lightly stroked myself just a little as he watched. And just like I was on the street that night (and every-single-time with him), I was utterly soaked. As I lifted my hand out, he grabbed my wrist and pulled it towards his mouth. I tried to resist, attempting to pull back my arm, but he forced it forwards, tasting me as he stared wickedly into my eyes, giving me nowhere to hide. My heart was racing, as I was beginning to realise there was no going back.
I don’t think I’ll ever understand this spell he has over me. After eight years apart, it didn’t take longer than 10 minutes of us being alone in a room together to be dry fucking like a pair of horny teenagers. It was wild. In fact, I’m pretty sure the last time I felt such an out-of-control attraction was when we first met more than 12 years ago. This thing I have with him, it doesn’t fade with time, if anything, it only gets stronger.
I guess you could say we were saved by the bell, because just at the point of no return, his ride to the airport arrived. I was a hot mess, but I was ‘safe’, well, at least until next time, something we both knew was on the cards again soon. Even before we’d said our goodbyes, I was already wondering whether I should risk seeing him again, only I wasn’t going to have eight years to think about it this time – I had a mere two weeks before he was back in town. I was scared of what was to come, at the same time I was already longing for more. Holy fuck, something dangerous had well and truly begun.
So there was more to our story and this was a whole new chapter – one I’d thought about many times over the years, despite my best efforts to block out – to block him out. Yet there was always something that niggled away at me about him and no matter how hard I tried, I could never quite forget him.
I didn’t know where this was heading, but after what just happened – the heights he managed to take me to without even so much as taking my clothes off – I know now that I can never escape him.
This is not the end.