Wanting her
Is it true that we can't resist the people that we are attracted to? I've always heard that from my friends. Granted I'm twenty-three and barely out of college and engaged to someone who is cheating on me. Oddly enough, it doesn't hurt me anymore. Maybe it's because I find myself wanting someone else.
But can you blame me? Mrs. Erickson is so stunning; it's not even funny. I'm fucked up, though, and wish she would just break up with her unappreciative husband. Just like how I should break up with my cheating fiancé.
Right now, I'm at my friend's birthday party and I can't help but gaze at Paula as I sip from my amaretto. What would my friend say if she peeked into my brain and saw the hedonistic, explicit images of her mom and me? Would she be disgusted? Or would she be surprised?
She looks so beautiful tonight. She's wearing a black cocktail dress with a pair of simple yet sexy heels that elongate her sensual legs. With her hair tied up in a tight bun, she looks like a model. But I can see the sadness and worry entrenched in her eyes. She keeps attending to guests like a damn maid and making sure that everyone's drink is replenished. I don't even have to ask Cassandra if Paula did this all by herself; I know that she did. What did her husband do? Probably fuck another woman behind her back.
She doesn't see me as I silently watch her from behind. I wish I could take a picture of her because she looks like a model. I also wish I could walk up behind her, wrap my arms around her waist, and tenderly kiss the back of her neck. But I'm just a girl with a dream...
She must sense that someone is behind her because she turns around with a weary expression that makes my chest tighten with recognition. I know that look very well. I sport it all the time. She's sick of this charade of pretending to be happy with a life that is slowly drowning her with each passing second...
But when she sees that it's me, she immediately smiles and completely turns around.
"Hey," she exuberantly says. "Are you enjoying the party?"
She's doing that thing again, focusing on everyone else except for herself. It seems to be an innate trait that society drills into women. I'm trying my best to change it, but it's hard. I'm silent as I walk toward her and hurriedly drink the remainder of my liquor. I feel myself sway as the alcohol buzzes around my body, making me highly aware of her gorgeous blue eyes and soft pale skin.
"Your eyes remind me of the ocean," I softly say. "I'm sure everyone tells you that."
I can't believe I just said that. Dread encapsulates me, broils within my stomach until I feel myself sway. The wind picks up and flows through her hair, making her look more like a model. She looks at me as she drinks more of the clear liquid in her tumbler.
"Thank you, dear," she whispers. "That's the sweetest thing I've heard in a long time."
We stare at each other and my heart's racing so fast, making me tremble and sweat. I've never had this reaction around anyone, man or woman. She is just a beautiful person, inside and out. I've seen her when she thinks that no one is looking at her, reading a novel or working on her garden. The way she cares and loves for her daughter just shows that she always puts her first. Meanwhile, the rest of the world is the complete opposite: selfish, self-centered, and egotistical. Like my future husband.
When she reaches out her hand to touch my bare arm, I almost can't believe it. Her fingers skim over my tan skin, sending arousal straight to my core. I bite my inner cheek as my nipples tighten and my gaze wanders down to her beautiful, curvy body.
"I can't remember the last time I was selfish," she whispers. "Can you believe that?"
"Yes. Because I can't, either."
She steps even closer to me and even though I'm panicking inside, I'm calm and collected on the outside. I may look like utter shit compared to her, but I can't deny the sultry gaze that she's giving me.
"Meet me in the guest room in five minutes," she says as her gaze lingers on my face. "I'll be there, waiting."
I'm too shocked to say anything. Should I feel guilty that I want to ravage her with my mouth and hands? I've never been with a woman, but I've seen my fair share of videos. I'm painfully aware of the arousal seeping through my underwear. Can anyone notice the lust brimming in my eyes as I pour myself more amaretto in the kitchen? Cassandra is too busy talking to a new guy, so I don't want to ruin anything for her. Paula's husband? He's probably in a dark corner, sweet-talking another woman.
I wish I could check my reflection before I go upstairs. I feel like I'm going to explode from pure want. The music is not even on that loud but it's overwhelming me, sending me upstairs before I dare to change my mind. Everyone is too busy talking and drinking to notice me slip away into the guest room.
Once I step inside, I quickly lock the door and settle my gaze on her still figure on the bed. To my horror, she's crying. Her sobs are steady and filled with repressed sadness. I quickly walk over to her and wrap my arms around her.
"I'm sorry," I say as she collapses against me. "I'm so sorry."
She rests her head against my flat chest and I feel the warm tears seep through my collared shirt. Maybe it's silly to run my fingers through her long, downy hair, but I do. And when I close my eyes and breathe her in, I find myself overwhelmed with the need to comfort her, to distract her.
"Please," she says through sobs that rattle her small body. "Make me forget. Just for a few minutes."
"I will," I defiantly say as I frame her beautiful face with my free hand. "I got you."
I still can't believe this is happening. I'm scared that I won't be able to satisfy her. But when I close my eyes again and kiss her succulent mouth, I hear her moan and then she roughly grabs my hand and rests it on her full breast. I take my time kissing her, though, loving her soft lips against mine and savoring her unique taste. I don't care that her lipstick is staining my mouth or that her hand is tousling my hair. I gently squeeze her breast and she moans into my mouth again, making my clit ache. I break the kiss when I graze my lips over her neck, where I carefully kiss and lick every inch of her skin. My hand slowly trails down to her body until she grabs it and leads it underneath her skirt with a sense of urgency.
"Please," she whispers with a shaky voice. "Touch me there. I need it."
I fight the urge to bite down on her neck. I can't give her hickeys. I can't bruise her. She'd probably let me, though. And it's hard to remain in control when my fingers reach her drenched pussy.
"You're so wet," I whisper against her sensitive neck.
She moans as I flicker my middle finger against her wetness. She is silky soft and slippery, I just want to touch her all night until she's naked and writhing on the mattress. I can smell her arousal and it forces me to circle her clit. Her hand clutches my knee as I lower the strap to her dress and kiss her erect nipple through the black lacy bra that she is wearing.
"Suck it," she says breathlessly. "Please."
I love when she tells me what to do. It's so sexy, having her tell me what she likes. I wrap my mouth around her nipple and slowly suck as I finger her. She trembles next to me as her arousal drenches my finger, making me start to shake, too.
"I'm gonna come," she says as she grinds against my hand.
I've barely even touched her. Could she be serious? But she can't be lying because my hand is making the sexiest sounds on her wet cunt. I lift up her bra, exposing her full breasts, and I greedily suck on her taut nipple as her back stiffens and she covers her mouth with her hand.
"Don't stop, please don't stop," she hisses as more arousal drenches my hand. "I'm going to come so fucking hard."
The sound of my finger on her drenched sex echoes throughout the room as I gently bite down on her nipple and lather it with my tongue. She crumbles next to me, and it's the sexiest thing I've ever seen, I swear. She can't even moan as she opens her mouth and convulses against me while her cunt drenches my hand in her cum. Her hand is squeezing my knee and the look of pure ecstasy on her face is enough to almost make me growl. But I find myself wanting more of her, so I continue fucking her and add another finger to her slippery cunt. I suckle on her nipple and relish in the sound of her muffled scream as she comes yet again, shaking violently against me and flooding my fingers with more of her liquid warmth. I take my mouth away and bring it to her ear.
"Come again," I whisper before I suck on her neck.
"Fuck!" she screams as she digs her nails into my pants. "Faster, please!"
I'm so turned on by her sexy, ragged moans and the way she moves her hips, thrusting herself against my fingers. More of her cum floods my fingers and I feel some of it drip down my hand. A smile spreads on my face as I kiss her, taking my hand away from her wet, tight pussy.
"Thank you," I say once I pull away. "You are amazing."
"Wait!" she says in concern as she watches me stand up. "What about you?"
"I'm good." I smirk. "We gotta go back to the party."
She blinks as she seems to remember about it. She is just too perfect. Too cute, too sexy, too overpowering. I find myself wanting to make her come again. But I know that it will have to wait for now.
I leave the guestroom first. And I literally run to the bathroom, silently praying that there's no one in there. Once I finally lock myself in, I look at the large mirror and am surprised to see that I have the most genuine smile that I've seen on me in a very long time. Maybe I should feel ashamed and guilty over what I just did, but all I feel is excitement and exhilaration. I bring my right hand to my mouth and I can smell her before I taste her delicious cum, sucking on my finger as I moan in desire. She tastes so sweet and good. When will I get to make her come again?
But can you blame me? Mrs. Erickson is so stunning; it's not even funny. I'm fucked up, though, and wish she would just break up with her unappreciative husband. Just like how I should break up with my cheating fiancé.
Right now, I'm at my friend's birthday party and I can't help but gaze at Paula as I sip from my amaretto. What would my friend say if she peeked into my brain and saw the hedonistic, explicit images of her mom and me? Would she be disgusted? Or would she be surprised?
She looks so beautiful tonight. She's wearing a black cocktail dress with a pair of simple yet sexy heels that elongate her sensual legs. With her hair tied up in a tight bun, she looks like a model. But I can see the sadness and worry entrenched in her eyes. She keeps attending to guests like a damn maid and making sure that everyone's drink is replenished. I don't even have to ask Cassandra if Paula did this all by herself; I know that she did. What did her husband do? Probably fuck another woman behind her back.
She doesn't see me as I silently watch her from behind. I wish I could take a picture of her because she looks like a model. I also wish I could walk up behind her, wrap my arms around her waist, and tenderly kiss the back of her neck. But I'm just a girl with a dream...
She must sense that someone is behind her because she turns around with a weary expression that makes my chest tighten with recognition. I know that look very well. I sport it all the time. She's sick of this charade of pretending to be happy with a life that is slowly drowning her with each passing second...
But when she sees that it's me, she immediately smiles and completely turns around.
"Hey," she exuberantly says. "Are you enjoying the party?"
She's doing that thing again, focusing on everyone else except for herself. It seems to be an innate trait that society drills into women. I'm trying my best to change it, but it's hard. I'm silent as I walk toward her and hurriedly drink the remainder of my liquor. I feel myself sway as the alcohol buzzes around my body, making me highly aware of her gorgeous blue eyes and soft pale skin.
"Your eyes remind me of the ocean," I softly say. "I'm sure everyone tells you that."
I can't believe I just said that. Dread encapsulates me, broils within my stomach until I feel myself sway. The wind picks up and flows through her hair, making her look more like a model. She looks at me as she drinks more of the clear liquid in her tumbler.
"Thank you, dear," she whispers. "That's the sweetest thing I've heard in a long time."
We stare at each other and my heart's racing so fast, making me tremble and sweat. I've never had this reaction around anyone, man or woman. She is just a beautiful person, inside and out. I've seen her when she thinks that no one is looking at her, reading a novel or working on her garden. The way she cares and loves for her daughter just shows that she always puts her first. Meanwhile, the rest of the world is the complete opposite: selfish, self-centered, and egotistical. Like my future husband.
When she reaches out her hand to touch my bare arm, I almost can't believe it. Her fingers skim over my tan skin, sending arousal straight to my core. I bite my inner cheek as my nipples tighten and my gaze wanders down to her beautiful, curvy body.
"I can't remember the last time I was selfish," she whispers. "Can you believe that?"
"Yes. Because I can't, either."
She steps even closer to me and even though I'm panicking inside, I'm calm and collected on the outside. I may look like utter shit compared to her, but I can't deny the sultry gaze that she's giving me.
"Meet me in the guest room in five minutes," she says as her gaze lingers on my face. "I'll be there, waiting."
I'm too shocked to say anything. Should I feel guilty that I want to ravage her with my mouth and hands? I've never been with a woman, but I've seen my fair share of videos. I'm painfully aware of the arousal seeping through my underwear. Can anyone notice the lust brimming in my eyes as I pour myself more amaretto in the kitchen? Cassandra is too busy talking to a new guy, so I don't want to ruin anything for her. Paula's husband? He's probably in a dark corner, sweet-talking another woman.
I wish I could check my reflection before I go upstairs. I feel like I'm going to explode from pure want. The music is not even on that loud but it's overwhelming me, sending me upstairs before I dare to change my mind. Everyone is too busy talking and drinking to notice me slip away into the guest room.
Once I step inside, I quickly lock the door and settle my gaze on her still figure on the bed. To my horror, she's crying. Her sobs are steady and filled with repressed sadness. I quickly walk over to her and wrap my arms around her.
"I'm sorry," I say as she collapses against me. "I'm so sorry."
She rests her head against my flat chest and I feel the warm tears seep through my collared shirt. Maybe it's silly to run my fingers through her long, downy hair, but I do. And when I close my eyes and breathe her in, I find myself overwhelmed with the need to comfort her, to distract her.
"Please," she says through sobs that rattle her small body. "Make me forget. Just for a few minutes."
"I will," I defiantly say as I frame her beautiful face with my free hand. "I got you."
I still can't believe this is happening. I'm scared that I won't be able to satisfy her. But when I close my eyes again and kiss her succulent mouth, I hear her moan and then she roughly grabs my hand and rests it on her full breast. I take my time kissing her, though, loving her soft lips against mine and savoring her unique taste. I don't care that her lipstick is staining my mouth or that her hand is tousling my hair. I gently squeeze her breast and she moans into my mouth again, making my clit ache. I break the kiss when I graze my lips over her neck, where I carefully kiss and lick every inch of her skin. My hand slowly trails down to her body until she grabs it and leads it underneath her skirt with a sense of urgency.
"Please," she whispers with a shaky voice. "Touch me there. I need it."
I fight the urge to bite down on her neck. I can't give her hickeys. I can't bruise her. She'd probably let me, though. And it's hard to remain in control when my fingers reach her drenched pussy.
"You're so wet," I whisper against her sensitive neck.
She moans as I flicker my middle finger against her wetness. She is silky soft and slippery, I just want to touch her all night until she's naked and writhing on the mattress. I can smell her arousal and it forces me to circle her clit. Her hand clutches my knee as I lower the strap to her dress and kiss her erect nipple through the black lacy bra that she is wearing.
"Suck it," she says breathlessly. "Please."
I love when she tells me what to do. It's so sexy, having her tell me what she likes. I wrap my mouth around her nipple and slowly suck as I finger her. She trembles next to me as her arousal drenches my finger, making me start to shake, too.
"I'm gonna come," she says as she grinds against my hand.
I've barely even touched her. Could she be serious? But she can't be lying because my hand is making the sexiest sounds on her wet cunt. I lift up her bra, exposing her full breasts, and I greedily suck on her taut nipple as her back stiffens and she covers her mouth with her hand.
"Don't stop, please don't stop," she hisses as more arousal drenches my hand. "I'm going to come so fucking hard."
The sound of my finger on her drenched sex echoes throughout the room as I gently bite down on her nipple and lather it with my tongue. She crumbles next to me, and it's the sexiest thing I've ever seen, I swear. She can't even moan as she opens her mouth and convulses against me while her cunt drenches my hand in her cum. Her hand is squeezing my knee and the look of pure ecstasy on her face is enough to almost make me growl. But I find myself wanting more of her, so I continue fucking her and add another finger to her slippery cunt. I suckle on her nipple and relish in the sound of her muffled scream as she comes yet again, shaking violently against me and flooding my fingers with more of her liquid warmth. I take my mouth away and bring it to her ear.
"Come again," I whisper before I suck on her neck.
"Fuck!" she screams as she digs her nails into my pants. "Faster, please!"
I'm so turned on by her sexy, ragged moans and the way she moves her hips, thrusting herself against my fingers. More of her cum floods my fingers and I feel some of it drip down my hand. A smile spreads on my face as I kiss her, taking my hand away from her wet, tight pussy.
"Thank you," I say once I pull away. "You are amazing."
"Wait!" she says in concern as she watches me stand up. "What about you?"
"I'm good." I smirk. "We gotta go back to the party."
She blinks as she seems to remember about it. She is just too perfect. Too cute, too sexy, too overpowering. I find myself wanting to make her come again. But I know that it will have to wait for now.
I leave the guestroom first. And I literally run to the bathroom, silently praying that there's no one in there. Once I finally lock myself in, I look at the large mirror and am surprised to see that I have the most genuine smile that I've seen on me in a very long time. Maybe I should feel ashamed and guilty over what I just did, but all I feel is excitement and exhilaration. I bring my right hand to my mouth and I can smell her before I taste her delicious cum, sucking on my finger as I moan in desire. She tastes so sweet and good. When will I get to make her come again?
10 years ago