Lustful Affairs (Erotica)

I watched as he buttoned the top of his trousers, momentarily disappointed thinking he was done, but I should have known better. He didn’t zip up or buckle his belt, merely stood up and held his hand out to me. I took it and he helped me to my feet. As I stood there, he put his hands on my shoulders, leaned forward and kissed me. This was a different type of kiss, where the others had the feel of unbridled lust, this one seemed to convey gentile passion. I felt like I was going to melt, my stomach was filled with butterflies, and a quivery feeling overwhelmed me. Even though I was ten years older than him, it seemed reversed. At that moment it felt like he was a man and I was a girl; odd but true. He had taken charge and I loved it.

“Why don’t we go into the other room?” he asked after the kiss. “It’ll be more comfortable.”

Breathless, all I could do was nod my head. He put his hand on the small of my back and walked me in the direction of the bedroom, like I said, I was beginning to feel like the younger of the two of us, the young woman with the older man. He opened the bedroom door and guided me in as he turned on the light. Closing the door, he stepped up behind me and wrapped his arms around my midsection. He kissed my neck before speaking softly in my ear.

“Lights on or off?”

“Off,” I answered.NôvelDrama.Org copyrighted © content.

It is the truth, when I make love I like it in the dark. There is something about unseen hands groping and feeling, impassioned lips coming out of nowhere that I find thrilling. I have always separated making love from a fast roll in the hay. Going for a quick screwing, I don’t give a damn about lighting, it’s all physical. Making love is something else, something ethereally sensual; that night I wanted to be loved.

“Could we compromise?” he asked, “The lamp on the table next to the bed has a really dim bulb. I’d like to be able to see you.”

How can you argue with logic like that? I merely nodded my head. He went over, turned on the lamp, then turned off the ceiling light. He was right, the lamp was dim plus it was tinted blue, almost a glorified night light, but the blue glow presented an erotic atmosphere. Looking around I saw his idea of making the bed was to pull the coverings up over the pillow when he got up. It didn’t matter, we were going to mess them up anyway, but a female notices these things.

He started to undress (FINALLY!) and I helped him out of his shirt and undershirt. Undoing his pants again, I saw that his prick was up, not fully erect, but I knew there wasn’t going to be any problem, we weren’t done by any means. He eased me back to the side of the bed and I sat down and kicked off my pumps. He sat down beside me and started to take off his shoes and socks. He raised himself up and pushed his pants and underwear down and I knew we were ready for business. Then he kind of swung around off the bed and onto his knees in front of me. I could guess what was about to happen next.

He put his hands on my hips and kissed my naval, the tip of his tongue tickling me exquisitely. My stomach tightened as I tried to suppress a giggle. Then he started to pull down the waistband of my panties. I leaned back on my elbows and raised my hips so he could get them off me. When they were down to my knees I settled back down and raised my legs. Once the underwear was gone, before I could lower my legs, he bent down, kissing me lightly on my bare inner thighs, then his tongue traced a path up to my waiting pussy. He kissed each outer lip before slipping his tongue into the gap between them, where it moved upwards to my clitoris. When it made contact I inhaled in a short series of shallow, sudden, jerking gasps. I came down off my elbows and laid flat on my back, my hands now grabbing the bedsheets and clutching them tightly.

I laid there on my back, my knees pulled back as far as I could, breathing irregularly, being deliciously tortured by his tongue. While his tongue swirled and stroked me, he would periodically push a finger into me, wriggling it and moving in circular motions, then withdrawing it. But all the time, either tongue or finger attended to my clitoris, driving me erotically forward. I could feel something build up inside me, something that needed a release and that release came in the form of a spine rattling, hip jerking, ass clinching, crushingly intense orgasm.

My teeth clenched, I moaned like a wounded animal, before emitting a series of gasping sob-like groans as my lower torso seemed wracked with a wave of spasms. I reached down and grabbed one of his hands, pulled it upwards, grabbing it tightly against my belly. It was almost as if I wanted him to share in this beautiful orgasm he’d created. I guess in moments like this we don’t always make sense. If the night ended right there I would have been more than happy.

When it all began to subside, I was lying there limply, breathing heavily, momentarily in a state of exhaustion, still clutching his hand. I felt his hand moving in my grip, raised my head, and opened my eyes. He was standing in front of me, his cock was fully erect now, sticking out and up like the bowsprit on a sailing ship. I knew the night wasn’t over, the best was yet to come (or should I say cum?). I swung myself around on the bed and slid over to the center of the mattress. I held my arms out to him.

He sat down on the edge of the bed, running his hands over my breasts and then bent over and kissed me. I could taste myself on his lips and tongue making all the more interesting. I slipped a hand over and began stroking his cock and balls. He responded by moving down to kiss my breasts. The same tongue that had so adeptly worked on my clitoris was now doing the same for my nipples, pressuring them and flicking its way back and forth across them reawakening the fading orgasmic feelings that had just begun to fade. One of his hands was rubbing my pussy; I was ripe for the taking.

He moved into position, pausing for one last kiss. Then supporting himself on one elbow, holding his cock in one had he directed towards the right spot. Feeling the head of his dick rubbing and probing my cunt sent a thrill through me. When it hit its mark, he moved his hips forward pushing his cock into me; I find penetration to be an exquisite feeling, and this one seemed even more so.

Once in, he slid his arms under my back, supporting himself on his elbows while embracing me. He began taking long, slow, easy thrusts. I raised my legs up and around him, crossing my ankles behind him. I twisted my hips from side to side, meeting his every forward move with a grinding motion of my own, putting an ever changing pressure on my pussy and stress on my swollen clitoris. My revived orgasm was resurging rapidly, building up in me, ready to break free.

As he continued drilling into me, I felt myself shiver then a kind of slithery, queasy feeling in my insides. Then there was a rush of indefinable ecstasy laced sensations as my second orgasm of the evening swept through me. My arms and legs tightened around him out of reflex as I threw my head back. I heard myself whine out something unintelligible but definitely profanity laden.

Reacting to my orgasm, he sped up his trusts, humping furiously. Even through the blissful for that was clouding my brain, I knew he was going for the grand finale, trying desperately to join me in my climax. I was too spent at this point do anything more than lay there and happily take it, totally enjoying it. His change in tempo, the vigorous thrusting, helped prolong my orgasm until the inevitable end. He gave a couple of sudden hard deep thrusts into me, each one punctuated by the feel of the pulsation of his cock, signaling he was cumming inside me.

We lay there like that, still holding onto each other, trying to catch our breath. I still had my arms and legs wrapped around him, one hand rubbing his back. He kissed my neck, then moved to my lips and we kissed each other. It was a hard, wet, sloppy kiss, deep and probing that held the promise of an encore in the future, but it was over for the moment. It was the kind of a kiss that let me know that he didn’t think of me as just another piece of ass; that he thought of me as something special. It had been an almost perfect evening for me.

When he shifted off of me, I rolled onto my side, pulling his arm around me. His front was up tight against my back, my hand clutching his. He leaned over and kissed my cheek, then settled back down.

“And to think all I wanted to do was dance with you and that led to all this,” he murmured.

“Are you disappointed?” I asked over my shoulder.

“Oh, God no,” he quickly responded, then after a pause, “I was just wondering, will we be seeing each other again?”

Awkwardly, I shifted over on my back. Still holding his hand, I raised it up to my lips and kissed it then smiled over at him.

“It’s all up to you, sweetie, but I really hope so.”

He responded by kissing me passionately once more. I had my answer. I rolled back over on my side and scrunched back against him. My mind was made up; my asshole boyfriend was out, I would officially break up with him tomorrow.

Now, I realized there was no real future for me with a guy who was ten years, almost eleven years younger than me, but for a while we could have a pretty good time together. That’s not as flip or calloused as it might seem, it’s just the simple facts; someday one or, hopefully both, of us would find someone who is age appropriate and it will be time to move on. Until then, we each found a playmate to keep us happily satisfied.

I went out that night just looking for a distraction, someone to make me feel good about myself. I assume he was there for the same reason and we found each other. It’s wonderful how life works sometimes.