I had been in London for work, a few days in the city I hadn’t walked through in years. When I texted her on a whim, she didn’t hesitate — her reply was immediate, warm, teasing. By the time I arrived at her flat, the evening had darkened into a quiet hush. I hadn’t seen her in what felt like forever, and the anticipation between us buzzed in the air before the door even closed behind me.
The moment she opened it, a small gasp caught in her throat, eyes widening just slightly as she took me in. Her fingers brushed at her lips unconsciously, a shiver running down her spine as she leaned lightly against the doorframe. Her hips shifted subtly, a flicker of desire moving through her body, and her breath hitched almost imperceptibly. Even before a word was spoken, her heat radiated toward me, a magnetic pull I could feel in my chest. She swallowed, eyes flicking down then back up at me, sparkling with mischief, recognition, and need.
The shower was exactly what I needed. The warm water ran over me, washing away the day, and I let my hands roam absentmindedly over my chest and shoulders as steam curled around the bathroom. I didn’t bother with a towel afterward. Instead, I let the cool air settle over my bare skin, walking into what used to be my room, now hers, and sitting on the edge of the bed. The sheets were cool against me, and I leaned back on my elbows, just airing myself out, enjoying the feeling of skin against air. My cock rested heavy against my thigh, foreskin still covering the head, relaxed yet pulsing with the anticipation of what was to come.
She stepped fully inside, and I saw her swallow again, a tiny hitch in her breath, shoulders brushing lightly against the doorframe as she stepped closer. Her black lace panties hugged her perfectly, the curve of her stomach smooth and inviting, breasts bare, nipples already firm. Her eyes roamed over me, lingering just long enough to send shivers racing through her, and through me. She shifted her weight, letting out a soft breath, the smallest arch of her back betraying her need. She smiled, slow, teasing, and I felt the electricity jump between us.
She didn’t speak at first. Her hands traced a path over my shoulders, down my chest, lingering on the coarse hair, circling my nipples. I arched into her touch, a low groan escaping, as she teased and explored, her breath hitching with every inch of contact. My hands found her waist, thumbs stroking the soft skin over her hips, tracing the line of her panties, feeling her tremble under my fingers. A tiny shiver ran down her spine as my thumb brushed just beneath the waistband, and she let out a soft, anticipatory moan. Her nipples pebbling slightly with the sensation, her breath catching with every subtle shift of my touch. She guided me as much as I guided her, pressing, pulling, teasing, her anticipation radiating in shivers, gasps, and whispered words.
She knelt before me, lips brushing over my chest, tongue tracing slow, teasing lines that made my skin tingle. Her hand closed around me, firm and confident, her fingers teasing my foreskin, coaxing slickness that was beginning to gather. I pressed my beard against her slick heat, tasting her fully, already lost in her. Her hips pressed up slightly, thighs trembling, letting me know she was already aching for more. Tiny gasps escaped her lips each time my tongue flicked over her clit, her fingers digging lightly into my shoulders, nails grazing in response to shivers I could feel radiating through her.
Her fingers tangled in my hair, guiding me closer, urging me to savor her fully. I licked, traced, coaxed her, alternating broad strokes and tight circles over her clit, watching her eyes flutter, hearing the sharp catch of breath, feeling her hips lift to meet me. Her hands pressed to my shoulders, nails tracing light patterns, a subtle arch of her back punctuating each moan. Her thighs quivered with each press of my tongue, a quiet whine slipping past her lips, and I felt the wet warmth respond to every deliberate touch. She was active, needing, commanding, participating with every movement, every gasp, every shiver.
Her hips pressed up, legs wrapping around me as I finally positioned myself between them. I slid my fingers over her wetness one last time, feeling the heat, the tightness, the incredible fullness she offered. I let my bare helmet rest against her slick folds, letting her feel the heat of me, the weight of my presence. I looked into her eyes, and what I saw there made my breath catch. It was trust. It was surrender. It was an invitation.
“I want you,” she whispered, her voice a husky, breathless plea. “All of you. Now.”
With agonizing slowness, I began to push forward. I felt the initial resistance, then the slow, glorious give as she opened for me. My cock sliding into her inch by inch, her breath hitched, a soft moan escaping her lips as I filled her completely. Each slow inch elicited a gasp, a shiver, a moan, her fingers digging lightly into my arms, tiny tremors running through her body. I stayed there for a moment, buried to the hilt, letting her feel me, letting her walls mold around me — a warm, wet embrace that was better than anything I’d imagined.
“God,” she gasped, head thrown back, eyes half-lidded. “You feel… incredible.” Her legs wrapped around my waist, heels digging into my lower back, pulling me closer, deeper. “Move,” she urged, nails digging into my shoulders. “Please, move.”
I began to move, strokes slow and deep, pulling out almost completely before sliding back in. Each movement was a study in control, a deliberate act of possession. My hips rolled, my helmet dragging along her sensitive walls with every retreat and return, angling to hit that special place deep inside. Her body responded with every thrust — back arching, nipples pebbling, hands clutching at the sheets, hips rising to meet me. A tiny gasp slipped past her lips each time I hit the right spot, subtle yet electrifying.
Her pleasure was tangible, building in waves. Her moans grew louder, more insistent, a mix of encouragement and pure, unadulterated need. She met my every stroke, her body a perfect, willing partner in this dance. She was wet, so wet, the slick sounds of our joining filling the room, a percussive rhythm to our symphony of pleasure.
“Harder,” she panted, eyes locked on mine. “I can take it.”
I obliged, strokes faster, more demanding, every motion sending a new jolt through her. Her body tensed, muscles coiling, inner walls fluttering and clenching around me. I reached between us, thumb circling her clit, slick and swollen from my earlier attention, matching the rhythm of my strokes. The dual sensation sent her into a frenzy. Her head fell back, long low moans escaping her lips, body trembling, muscles coiling like springs.
“That’s it,” she gasped, breathless, urgent. “Don’t stop… I’m so close… so close…”
I doubled down, pressing harder, my strokes more forceful, precise. Her body teetered on the edge, and with a final, shuddering cry, she fell. Her inner walls clamped around me, pulsing rhythmically, milking me as I went over the edge with her. The sensation of her orgasm, so intense, so tight, was my undoing. I pulsed deep inside her, helmet throbbing, spilling myself, a long, guttural groan tearing from my throat.
We stayed pressed together, slick, warm, trembling. I lingered, tasting her fully, every drop a reminder of how much she wanted me — and how much I wanted her. The mingled warmth of our climax coated my beard, and I savored it slowly, pressing my lips and tongue over her folds, tasting every pulse of her pleasure and every trace of our release. Her moans softened to a low, shuddering hum, fingers tangled in my hair, hips twitching as I traced the wet evidence of our passion.
When she finally settled, she pulled me close, pressing her forehead to mine, breath ragged but soft. “I knew it,” she whispered, voice thick with satisfaction. “I just knew it would be like this.”
I pressed a kiss to her temple, smiling down at her flushed, sated face. “Patience,” I murmured, voice low, rumbling. “The best things are always worth the wait.” She responded with a slow, teasing smile, fingers trailing over my arm, heat sparking again between us. We lay together in the quiet of her flat, the city outside a distant hum, wrapped in the warmth of each other, a perfect balance of desire, fulfillment, and intimacy.
