Burned

I felt those twin green flames before I saw them. Looking up those eyes nailed me to the spot as she descended the stairs, red dress hugging magnificent curves I’d spent hours mapping with my mouth and tongue. Memories flooded both my mind and cock. Every feeling I spent the last year suppressing came roaring back. I felt the ache to touch her. Taste her. Make her moan my name in the sweetest way that only she could do. I knew her body almost better than she did. I knew how to tease her until she was begging for release.

That was the best part of us, the tease. Three years of fantasies left unfulfilled. Passion that was never sated. Need so strong that even when I ran I was compelled to return. She drew me back time and time again. Months of unanswered messages and questions, until I would break and come back for another taste.

Addiction. Obsession. Curse. Call it whatever you wanted, but neither one of us could be rid of it.

I would try and stay each time, be the man she thought I was. But I wasn’t. I knew I would fail her again. Then, when the realization hit I drew a curtain of silence around my world and shut her out.

Until the next time.

So many times I’d lost count.

This would be our last time though. It had to be.

I was playing with fire being here. A bonfire ready to consume my world. A world I had carefully built this past year, completely devoid of her. We had parted the last time on empty promises as always, but I never thought I would see her again. I thought the last time was the last time.

Imagine my surprise when I found out she’d be here tonight.

I hadn’t come with anyone, planning to do this solo, but somehow she was here too. When I found out I should have cancelled.

I should walk out now. I was toying with Fate and the life I had built.

But…

I could already feel those red tipped fingernails scratching my back and chest, marking me. See those red lips wrapped tightly around my cock, sucking my soul free. Hear the sounds she makes when she lets go, releasing the tightly coiled control she held inside. Smell her perfume, Skin; heady and musky. Taste the remnants of the scotch on her tongue. A drink she despised, but drank because she could nurse it all night, seeming like she was drinking more than she was. She was a divine buffet for all the senses.

I was hypnotized by the sway of her hips. A captive mesmerized by the swaying cobra, knowing full well I was about to be bitten. But, oh, how sweet her venom would taste.  

“Hello Brad, how lovely to see you,” she crooned, her voice deep, sending spears of yearning through every nerve ending. 

“Charlotte,” I choked out, “I didn’t expect to see you here.” 

“Didn’t you?” Eyes full of mischief she took a small sip from the tumbler, ice clinking, “we talked about doing something like this. I wanted to bring you here many times. Show you how much fun we could have,” she leaned in closer, the smell of her perfume and top-shelf scotch seeping into my already muddled brain, “how you could fulfill every fantasy, if you wanted. Still could.”

Entranced I watch her hand reach up, felt it cup the back of my head, pulling me down to those ruby red lips, “Tell me to stop, Brad. Tell me you don’t want this, don’t want me, and I will walk away.”

Her mouth hovered just below mine, millimetres apart, the decision to close the gap all mine. Or to reign in what little dignity I had left. Say stop. Walk away.

But who the fuck was I kidding? I was a moth, she the flame; and fuck, if it wasn’t gonna feel so good to be burned. 

I sealed our fate as surely as I sealed our lips. I heard a desperate groan and knew it was mine as her fingers dug into my scalp pulling me as close as possible, lips parting, a sweet invitation I wasn’t going to deny. I plunged my tongue in. The taste of her was heady. The amber burn of the scotch mixed with the taste of her. She was a drug I couldn’t escape, and this was but a small fix of what I needed. 

I collapsed around her. Enveloping her small frame within my larger one. Hands roaming everywhere. I needed to feel her again. One more time. Just one more time. I slide my hands down to her ass, cupping the ample bounty. Squeezing hard I couldn’t help but remember what it was like to slip my cock between those cheeks. She was the first I did anal with. I did a few firsts with. She was always a willing partner in my fantasies.

Fingers trailing over her hips I found the slit of the dress, easy access to her wonders, which I took full advantage of. My thumb found no barrier of cloth, just a warm and wet pussy, eager for me. Having but a moment to feel her, she pulled my hair, breaking the seal of our lips. 

“Tell me, Brad, tell me you want this,” she breathed into my mouth, ” Say you want me. That you consent to what is about to happen.” 

Nodding like a bobble head I move in to kiss her again, but she tugs my hair again, “Say it. You know where we are, you know what happens here. I’ve told you in explicit detail what I wanted us to do here. Tonight, we can make all that happen, but you have to consent, Brad. I need you to say it.”

Reality crashed through the haze of desire as I remembered where I was. Sins. An apt name for a sex club. Sounds of laughter, murmurs of conversation and the barely stifled the moans of pleasure broke through the barrier I had created when I saw her. All around us were people mingling, in various stages of dress. Some were chatting amicably with others; some engaged heavily in a variety of sexual acts, and some were staring in our direction with an inherent need etched into their faces. They weren’t looking at me though, they were eyeballing her. I didn’t blame them; I could barely take my eyes off her. 

I felt a sudden possessiveness take over my thoughts. MINE. She was mine. From the dark hair on the top of her head to the tips of those succulent toes, and every glorious, curvaceous inch in between. Mine to touch. To taste. To share if I wanted to, and in this moment, I didn’t want to. I had never been jealous before, but something about her, here, surrounded by others she could have, that wanted her now, made me selfish to have her to all to myself.

But she wasn’t mine. Hadn’t been since the beginning.

And it was all my fault.

“Brad.” 

The hard tone brought me back to the seriousness of the situation. To the question she asked. Do I consent? Do I want her?

Just for tonight I do. Only tonight. The last night.

“I consent, Charlotte,” my voice strong and sure, “to whatever shenanigans you want to get into. I will let you know if something makes me uncomfortable.”

The smile that broke over her face could have blinded the sun. She radiated pure joy and excitement. I swear the atmosphere of the room pulsated with her, and the vibe intensified. 

“Oh, babe, I know your limits,” she said, kissing me between the words, “We’ll push them but not break them.”

She led me to an alcove with a plush couch, pushing me down as she handed her glass off to someone passing by. They didn’t even hesitate, just took it. While I tried to figure out what that meant she straddled my lap. Her dress was carefully hiked up so not to rip the already dangerously high slit. Whatever I was trying to puzzle out was lost as my hand hit the softness of her thigh. Bare skin, smooth as silk. 

Cupping my face she forced my gaze back to her. Those goddamn eyes. An emerald inferno that burned right to the core of me. I surrendered to them. To her. Lips melting into hers I claimed her tongue with a force I didn’t know I had. Her arms wrapped around my head, while mine slipped up her thighs, thumbs parting her wet folds. I felt her smile as I slipped a thumb into her hot centre.

Like our first night together, we’ll end as a we began.

Short thrusts with my thumb hooked to her core, my other thumb working her clit I tease while devouring her mouth like a starving man at a cherry tree. When she tried to pull away from the kiss, dropping her head back she ground down on my thumb. I stopped my ministrations, holding still while she threw me a wicked grin, “asshole,” she groaned. 

“Not a complete asshole,” I responded, as I thrust my slick digit back inside her. 

I toyed with her, drawing out the command I knew was going to come soon. Along with her if I didn’t slow down. I knew what she liked. I knew her body as well as I knew my own. I had spent hours canvassing every inch to see what set her pulse racing, and left her a panting, wet mess. I could bring the orgasm quickly or prolong it for hours if I wanted. She started pushing down on my thumb harder, groans of frustration that I wasn’t giving her what she wanted. 

Not yet, my girl, not yet. 

The pad of my thumb working the shallow nerves of a very eager slit, my mouth clamps down on a nipple. The thin fabric of her dress barely a barrier between us as the nipple hardened and I felt the barbell around the wet cloth. She’d kept the piercings. Not sure what I was surprised by that.

The look on her face and soft gasp was enough for me to bring a friend to the party. Switching to two fingers I plunge as deep as I could enjoying the erotic torture I was inflicting. She started to fumble with the straps to undo the dress, but I didn’t want that. Yet. 

“Hold her hands,” I command, not knowing who was around, but confident someone would do as requested. 

Looking up, my tongue running lazy circles over the dark spot of her nipple I see her hands pinned above her head. Long, painted nails and a blindingly large diamond ring held her wrists. Good. Knowing she was secured I bit down. Hard. She pushes forward with a moan that I had no doubt the whole room heard. I would share her tonight, but I would mark her first. Teeth firmly clenched I started sucking, making sure that there would be dark bruise around that nipple for the coming days. I could feel her sweet cunt grip my fingers as the orgasm was building.

Her favourite way to come was being fingered while her nipples were being sucked, and who was I to deprive her of that. Plunging deeper into her dripping hole I murmur around her nipple, “Come for me, sunshine, let me hear how much you missed me.”

Her cries were the vocal range of an Italian Opera. I closed my eyes and let them crash into me, memorizing the musical lilt of her sounds as she collapses into my shoulder. 

“Good girl,” I murmur, kissing her cheek softly. 

I pull out my fingers, dripping with her and slip them into my mouth, savouring the taste.

Liquid cocaine.

Tonight was the last fix though. Rehab would be painful but necessary.

Otherwise my wife at home would be collateral damage to my addiction.

To be continued….