(f)un reunion with (m)y ex | 2016

I stopped by my ex’s house last night.

I had just come from hanging out with the girls I used to work with when I was an escort. We’d spent two hours drinking vodka and reminiscing on some of our more exciting calls – the good-looking clients, the ones that were strong and confident and fucked us good and hard so we didn’t have to fake it. We told stories of waiting nervously in hotel lobbies until our clients picked us up but not caring what anyone thought by the time we were done, strutting out to the car with full purses and hearts beating giddy. Not everything was golden, of course, but sitting with my beautiful friends, eating good food, smoking and laughing until our faces hurt made me miss the life.

With all of those memories spinning in my head, I texted my ex to see if he was home. We’d broken up about a year ago, but we still stayed in touch and sometimes got a little flirty over text. I hadn’t seen him in a couple of months and I couldn’t get him out of my head. His cock, specifically. He wasn’t a huge guy but he was blessed with a long, thick member that I would ride until I forgot everything except for the feeling of him stretching me so wide, hollowing me out. He answered, saying I should drop by and say hello, so after a last round of shots with the girls I grabbed a half a bottle of wine and made a quick exit. He only lived about a ten minute walk away.

I had pictures on my phone from when we were together, of him pulling his cock out of his underwear to take a snapshot for me, the head shiny with precum. I couldn’t wait to see him, and as I walked I scrolled through the shots on my phone. I was getting so excited that I started to jog, and as I ran down the familiar streets, I felt heat settle between my legs. When I got to his door, I can’t imagine what he thought when he saw me. I was a mess, breathing heavy and face shining from running to him. I’m sure I looked crazy, my jacket hanging off one shoulder and one of my thigh highs slipping down past the hem of my skirt. He smiled and said hello, and I smoothed a hand over my hair before leaning in for a hug, making sure to press my torso into his, hoping he could feel my short breaths, the thudding of my heart.

When he lead me up to his apartment, I rustled in my bag for the bottle of wine. His eyes lit up and he poured himself a huge glass, just stopping short and asking me if I wanted some before he got to the dregs. He was drunk too, by himself, and I remembered when he used to call me begging for phone sex in the months after we broke up. He was kind of pathetic, but something about the way he eyed me up and down before downing most of his wine made me realize I didn’t care. We sat down on the couch, and he gestured to the show he had been watching and asked me if I wanted to watch with him. I nodded, and he leaned forward to start his laptop.

The show was excruciatingly long. He pulled out a joint halfway through and offered me a drag. Soon after I passed it back, I felt my body start to heat up, and suddenly I couldn’t get comfortable. I was getting wet, and I was suddenly paranoid that he’d smell me from his place across the couch. Once, he found a pair of my underwear mashed between his mattress and boxspring and the smell made him so horny that he walked over to my place and interrupted a dinner with my roommates to pull me into my bedroom and fuck me. He said it was an emergency, and we fucked standing up, him gripping my hair and pushing the side of my face into the doorframe. I squirmed around until he asked me if I wanted to stretch out and put my feet in his lap. I did, and when my foot touched his dick, hard in his pants, I rubbed it back and forth, just slowly enough to pretend it was an accident. He pressed his legs inward, forcing my foot to touch the line of his cock again, and I breathed in sharply. Without taking his eyes off the screen, he put his hands on my thigh, ran his thumb under the top of my socks. I couldn’t take it any more at that point and rocked up and into his touch. Finally, he looked at me, and I cracked up and covered my face. He shifted over to me and grabbed my hands, before coming down to kiss me.

Kissing him was the part I’d forgotten. Our faces fit together and I straddled his lap and fell into it, the weed and wine slowing down time and making me unaware of everything except for the feeling of his lips on mine. His tongue in my mouth, his hands slipping down the back of my pants and kneading over my ass. We kissed for what felt like forever, I slid my fingers through his hair and rolled my body onto his, feeling that pleasant vertigo that felt like I was continuously falling into him.

He was so hard and I was so wet and suddenly I needed to taste him. I pulled away from him and he hoisted his hands under my legs and carried me to the bed. Throwing me down, he stood in front of me and unzipped his pants, staring down lazily as his cock sprung out in front of my face, teasing me. He came closer, nudging himself against my mouth until I couldn’t hold back and I took him in. I licked down the side of his long cock and up the other side, swirled my tongue around the head before taking him into my mouth. I started with a few teasing strokes before really sinking down on it, feeling it’s width lie flat along my tongue as it slid deeper, blocking my windpipe. I came up for air quickly before sinking my head down again, until he pushed at the opening of my throat. He was about an inch too long to fit without throatfucking me, but feeling him invade my windpipe was what I craved. With him wholly in my mouth, I tried to relax and push him a little deeper, past the ring of muscle trying to keep him out. He felt me trying and grabbed the back of my head, pushing gently until I opened up to him. Tears instantly filled my eyes and I felt that sweet intensity, that place where you’re so overwhelmed that you start to feel hollow and whole and like you’re ready to float out of your body completely. This was a feeling I craved, and it was often at the end of a really long cock.

As he forced himself deeper into my mouth, I closed my eyes and felt my throat working around him. I had to pull off for a second, and when I did he pulled me up roughly and kissed me again. The sharp salt of my tears mingled with the taste of his mouth and his cock, and he pushed me back onto the bed until I was lying flat underneath him. I could feel his cock against my stomach, leaving a wet mark from my spit, and I arched my back up until he slipped between my legs, rubbing his length along the thin cotton of my panties. He thrusted against me once, twice before reaching down between my legs and pushing my panties aside. We both sighed as he sunk into me, my pussy stretching for him, and he lay still inside of me as we kissed for a few moments longer.

When I was used to his girth, I thrusted my hips up again and he propped himself up on his elbow, looking down at me as he drove his cock deep inside me again and again. I couldn’t stand it, couldn’t stay still, I wanted to stretch out and cling to him at the same time, but most of all I didn’t want him to stop. Suddenly he pulled out and flipped me over so my sizeable ass was in the hair, and he roughly pulled my skirt up above my waist. He pulled me up by my hair and put his face by my ear, and whispered the hottest sentence I’d heard in a long time.

“I’ve had enough of you teasing me. I’m going to wear you out.”

I moaned so loud for him, he pushed my face into his pillow and fucked me so hard and fast. He gripped my hair and pushed me, driving his cock deeper and deeper inside of me until I all I felt was heat, all I saw were stars. I rode it out, ecstatic, until he pulled out, flipped me around and came all over my shirt. He collapsed on top of me, spreading the mess all over our clothes, breathing over my shoulder. After a few minutes, we kissed again for awhile, and when he finally rolled over, we burst out laughing, surveying the mess he’d made.

I took off my shirt and he lent me a new one, after I changed I looked back to see him lying on his back, staring up at the ceiling.

“Well, I’m gonna go,” I said. I was so tired and blissed out and wanted nothing but to fall asleep among my own duvet and nest of pillows.

He sat up and put his hands on his knees. “It’s too bad we didn’t work out.”

I looked at him, and looked around at his messy room, empty wine bottle by the bed, crumpled up shirts in the corner. I bent down to kiss his cheek. “Yeah, too bad,” I said.

As I walked home, I couldn’t wipe the grin off my face. I was happy to have gotten what I wanted that night.