Now here I was, letting him touch me again. We weren’t in love now. Sure, the attraction was still strong, but that wasn’t love. He was in pain and wanted to get lost in someone. Would any woman have done? If that was true, I should have stopped. While I knew this wasn’t the beginning of a relationship, I didn’t want to be just a convenient fuck. And yet as he pulled my blouse off and dragged his tongue over the swells of my breasts, I knew I wouldn’t stop him. The truth was, I wanted this too.
Four years ago, Nick was vocal during sex, but tonight he was quiet. His hands kneaded my breasts, his tongue taking turns lapping at one nipple and then the other. Soon we were both naked on his couch. The room was dark, but I could see him clearly. I could see the guilt and pain on his face even though that was what this encounter was supposed to help him escape.
I wondered again at the wisdom of this encounter. Nick’s heart and mind needed soothing, but sex probably wasn’t the right balm.
“Fuck me, Mia.” His words came out soft, almost like it was a thought, and not something he meant to say out loud. Once again, I found myself powerless to stop. I’d tried to move on from Nick when we broke up four years ago. I was sure I was over him. But I couldn’t deny that I’d never met anyone who made me yearn for them the way he did. It was like my entire body remembered him and had come alive in anticipation of his touch.
I straddled his thighs, rubbing my pussy over his sheathed dick. I looked at him, but his head was down, resting against my breasts. His hands were on my hips, as I lowered down over him.
He was thick and hot, and I realized my memory of him was lacking. He filled every bit inside me and it was spectacular. I gripped his shoulders, and began to move, up and down, in a slow long ride.
He groaned, his fingers kneading my hips. It seemed impossible but he thickened inside me, the friction increasing with each delicious slide until I was bouncing on him, driving towards my orgasm. I teetered on the edge, release just a thrust away. I was sure he was close too.
Then his hands squeezed, and held me as I dropped over him, his dick filling me. He kept me from moving, his breathing was harsh as he dropped his head between my breasts again.
I started to say something, but his grip loosened. I rocked and he groaned. Then I started to ride again. Quickly I was back up, riding him hard. My pussy throbbed as each slide of him pushed me closer to the edge again.
“Oh God, Nick.” My fingers dug into his shoulders as my climax rushed toward me. I sank down, knowing next time, pleasure would fill my body. His hands squeezed again, holding me in place, preventing me from taking that one last ride. I groaned in frustration. “Nick.”
His thumb slid between my thighs and rubbed over my clit. I tried to rise, but he held me there, so all I could do was rock over him.
My breath was harsh as I sought my pleasure. “Don’t stop, don’t stop,” I chanted, worried he’d tease me again. Fortunately, he didn’t stop. I tilted my pelvis, his dick hitting that one exquisite spot, just as his thumb stroked over my clit. My orgasm roared through me reminding me how much better they were when they were given from someone else instead of alone by myself.
He growled against my chest, as my pussy convulsed in pleasure. Finally, I was done. I looked down on him, as I gulped in a breath. Why was he denying himself pleasure?
“What’s going on?” I asked. He wanted sex to help him forget someone under his care had died, and yet he wouldn’t let himself enjoy it.
He ignored my question as he also took in a couple of deep breaths, and then encouraged me to move over him again. He was hard as a rock and thicker and longer than I remembered. I rode him again, watching him as brought him up and up, only to have him stop me again when he was on the brink. His expression was pained. Was that what he was doing? Torturing himself? He was letting himself get to the edge of pleasure but not taking that final leap.
Was this how he liked sex now, or was he punishing himself?
I pressed my hands on his face. “What are you doing?”
His expression was lost and helpless. “This is wrong.”
“What the hell, Nick.” I started to pull away, feeling angry and humiliated.
“No. Not you, baby.” He held me to him, his hand moving to cup my cheek. “You’re not wrong. This is. It doesn’t seem right that I should be enjoying something so life affirming after what happened today.”
“Why? It seems like a good time to appreciate life after seeing how fleeting it can be.”
He closed his eyes. “I feel guilty.”
My heart broke for him.
“I don’t deserve this.”
This whole thing was wrong before it started, and clearly it had gone off the rails. “Then maybe I should go.” I started to move off of him again.
“Mia.” His hands held me to him. “Don’t go.”
“Then come.” I took his hands and held them so he couldn’t stop me as I started to ride. Out of the gate, I bounced up and down fast and furious, not giving him time to think. He’d wanted only to feel, so that was what I was trying to make happen. For him to stop thinking and just feel.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck …” he chanted. I could feel my own pleasure start to build again.
I pressed his hands on my breasts, and fortunately he didn’t fight his instinct. He pinched my nipples, sending white
