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- #1
We are so many things to one another now, and I love them all. We are best friends, we are business partners, and we are co-parents.
We have built a life together over decades and it’s given me more fulfilment than I ever could have imagined. There is nothing I don’t know about her. I have explored every story in her past, lived through every moment of her present and I know every minute that she has planned for the future.
It’s a level of intimacy and friendship that I know is beyond most.
But sometimes—maybe more than sometimes—it can be easy to forget we are also lovers. It can be easy to forget how we used to claw at each other, devour each other, and obsess over one another. It can be easy to forget to work on the things that never needed work in the beginning.
She used to be the unattainable Polish girl I yearned for from the back of the lecture hall. The one I stared at when I should have been taking notes when she was unaware of my existence. The first time I spoke to her I got my name wrong—somehow switching my first and middle names—and thankfully she found it endearing. When I first touched her hand I panicked that my palms would be too sweaty and it was only later I found out she worried about the same thing.
We spent most of those university years screwing. She was never close enough and I never got my fill of her. I wanted to eat her alive and thank god I couldn’t because there was only one of her and I wanted to consume her over and over and over again.
Back then we didn’t need to make space. Back then we didn’t have to make time. Now we have so little of both.
But I still want to eat her alive.
So I cleared our diaries, closed the office, shipped off the children, and brought her to this place, deep in the woods, where no one could find us. Here we will eat, drink, walk, and fuck. We have stripped the clothing of our past away. Now we’re naked and alone, together. Now we can be something new.
The temptation to overwhelm her the moment the door closes is huge, but I push past it. I want to savour this. I want to remember when we could take our time. So I lie on the bed and I pretend to read the paper as she stands at the sink washing her hands. I hide secret glances at her from around the pages. Spying on her like I’m not allowed. Like she’s not mine.
But she notices, and she glides across the room wearing a smile of entitlement. She stands at the foot of the bed and I widen my eyes. She leans forward and runs her soft hands up my thighs. I’m still wearing underwear and my dick is pushing against the fabric already—I’ve gone from comfortably cradled to stiffening sensitivity with just the warmth of her palms. I lie still and let her climb up on the bed. She folds herself against my chest and she kisses me. Fuck, how she kisses me. Her tongue pushes into my mouth and her nipples harden against my chest and my right hand strokes her back and down to her arse. She sighs and it’s like we’re kissing for the first time, back in those early years, but without any of the nervousness or worry that we might be doing it wrong. What an intoxicating mix of excitement and intimacy. Christ, I’m obsessed with her.
She kisses my chest and my stomach and runs her hands over the front of my underwear. She can’t wait, my impatient girl, so she pulls it off, tossing it to the side and immediately straddling me. She enjoys these rare moments, I know, when she’s higher than me and I have to kiss upward while she grinds against me with her cunt. My hands roam over her back, exploring and containing her while I move my mouth to her nipples. They stiffen at my breath and bead against my teeth and her whole body reacts to the attention they’re getting. I know she’s looking down, enjoying the view. I know how much she enjoys being spoiled, and I suddenly realise I can’t remember the last time I made her look at me this way.
Was it that night at her friend’s dinner party, when we had argued and she stormed out of house, making me chase her down the street before ending up in a small park with her leg hooked over my shoulder as I finger fucked her against a tree?
No, more recently when I dragged her into the bathroom of a fancy restaurant, just because when she’d arrived I could tell she’d had a bad day, and if I couldn’t make it go away, I could greedily lap at her cunt while she covered her own mouth to stay silent.
Now we’re pawing at each other in those same ways. Muscle memory from years gone by flooding back. Kneeling up in front of me, she arches her back and pushes her incredible ass against my torso, reaching to my neck and hair while I kiss below her ear, nibbling toward her throat while playing with her nipples. She occasionally turns and kisses me, her movements becoming more chaotic as she loses control over her body, my dick pushing against her from behind.
That’s when I let my hand gently sink down to her clit.
I only tease her, initially. My strong fingers apply just the right amount of pressure to bathe in the warmth of her, creating a hunger in us both. Her breathing, already short and uncontrolled, intensifies and she says “you’re making me so wet, baby”.
I love hearing it and I love how she’s now starting to rock her body, desperate for more friction from me and it’s only a few moments before she’s thrusting against my fingers with needy enthusiasm. I pick up the pace and rub her in a way I know will push her over the edge. She’s so soft and wet and I breathe in her scent guiding her movement. She moans that she’s going to come and sure enough the muscles in her body tighten and release as her cunt explodes and drizzles all over my hand, soaking the delicate, expensive sheets. She pants in satisfaction and gratitude but I am not nearly done with her. I lie back and she climbs above me, suspending her drenched cunt right above my mouth. She balances herself by pressing her palms into the headboard and I grip under her thigh while she pushes the lips of her cunt against me. I can tell she feels sexy and powerful and she controls her own pace this time. As I gaze up at her and provide all the friction she needs, I marvel at how beautiful she looks, how lucky I am, and how much I want to fuck her.
And I will. Soon.
I moan against her cunt, knowing that a welcome side effect will be the vibrations of my growling voice against her sensitive clit. My intention to be slow and deliberate is gone. This is like the beginning when we skipped lectures because we were fucking and missed shows because we were fucking, and missed parties because we were fucking. It was never enough and it’s not enough now, all these years later.
The difference is how comfortable she now is with her body. When we were both young she worried about anyone being that close between her legs. I had to put her at ease with long make-out sessions down her neck, her breasts, her tummy and her thighs. Letting her grow accustomed to extended periods of time with her skin under my tongue and her flesh in my jaws. I wanted her to get used to my face always touching her. I had to reassure her with words and with time that I absolutely loved her taste, her texture, and the very act of balancing her on my tongue.
She would nervously part her knees and blush, looking at me through the strands of hair half-covering her face. She would scan me, trying to detect any sign of hesitance or reluctance, and seeing only singular, clear-eyed hunger. And those first months, I would kiss her cunt gently and slowly, signalling that this isn’t something to be rushed—that making her orgasm is not even the main goal. And over time, the tension she held in her stomach melted away and she began to melt against my face. In time, she began to lose herself.
Things have changed. Now she adores having me luxuriate here. Now she opens herself up and smiles as I race to eat her up. I hear the moan that brings me back to the present and tells me that she’s close, so I take the pace away from her and move my head from side to side so I push her straight into another orgasm. She trembles against me, clinging to the headboard while I catch the rush of her juice on my tongue as she comes all over my fucking face.
She moans compliments that I can’t hear because she’s in my blood and I’m already moving her to the next position. I lie her flat on her back and kneel beside her. She’s spread out across me like a meal and my hands seize at her cunt again. She doesn’t want to just be spoiled this time though, and demands I move my hips closer so she can get a hold of my dick. She wastes no time in putting it in her gorgeous face but as she does, I continue to work her clit, making her moan and wriggle and now it’s my turn to feel the vibrations of her voice. My cock shudders with the stimulation and stretches to get closer to her, my pulse coursing down my shaft. I bet she can feel it in her throat. Sucking my dick somehow makes her even wetter and with her hands gripping my thighs, she tries to concentrate on the task even as we can both hear the delicious smacking sound of my hand using her. My knuckles are gripped by her pussy and with each urgent clench, I know she’s getting closer. She’s so fucking wet and my fingers slide in so smoothly—as if I’m the sexiest man in the world. Eventually, it’s too much and she removes my dick from her mouth and holds it in her hand so she can cry out and finish while hanging on to me.
My dick is still hardening and she wastes no time in putting it back into her mouth. She holds my balls and alternates between sucking me and slapping my cock onto her tongue. The sensation of that intermittent impact on the bed of her mouth drives me crazy and she knows it. I’m given a warm, wet thrill from the tip to the shaft and I’m ready to push down her throat before she bounces up and brings it back down again. And it’s not just about how it feels, it’s about the view she wants me to have. Showing me that she wants to both serve me and tease me. Showing me that I am powerful. How can she suck it with such reverence and hunger like it’s the first time? How is it that she’s still so obsessed with it? Entranced by it?
But it’s not the first time and that’s why she has so much control. The first time was hot but it was nervy for both of us and she was timid because she didn’t yet know what I liked. That first time she needed guidance, and feedback.
She’s not timid anymore. She’s sucked my dick in the back of cars, in hotel lifts, and one time under the table in a dark little bar. When we’re in public, she’s fast and dirty. She consumes me like water at the end of a drought. The thrill of being caught turns her on providing a countdown to get my cum in her throat as fast as possible.
When we’re at home, she’s more ceremonial. She sprinkles her fingers along my balls like raindrops, watching me grow before she’s even touched me. She’ll gently plant her lips on my scrotum, often leaving dark red lipstick marks—my favourite shade. When she does start sucking, it’s measured and choreographed for my gaze. She likes to put on a show. Now, she glides her face down the side of my shaft, letting her teeth graze me, and then buries my cock deep into the back of her throat. She gags slightly and the sound is so sexy, as is how she looks up, smiling, her drool leaking off her chin and the end of my cock, showing me how much she loves having me in her face.
“I want you to get you inside my tight pussy. My wet pussy,” she says, and before I know it I’m on my back and she’s lowering herself onto me.
The moment I sink into her, my cock twitches with relief but also need. She starts bouncing on me and I touch her breasts. I’m worried that she’s fucking me so deeply that I’m not going to be able to stop myself from exploding inside her. My heart is racing and I close my eyes. Maybe I can’t stop it.
As if sensing the same thing, she climbs off me and tells me she wants me to take her from behind.
I take the briefest moment to admire the view in front of me and let my body rest. She backs onto my cock, easing me into her, twisting her head to watch as I fuck her again. I can’t believe how tight she is and my balls slap against her so hard it hurts a little. This position drives me crazy and I love resting my large hands on her ass squeezing into the flesh and planting seeds for bruises that will bloom tomorrow.
I still don’t want to finish yet so I pull out and I put her onto her back. I want to see her while I fuck her. I want her legs around me. I want to kiss her more. I drive my dick inside her and she claws at my head while I stretch her. I control the rhythm and the depth, even while she tries to influence the friction, wriggling underneath me. I am so close to flooding her, so I pull out again and grab my dick with my hand. I let her watch me pump it, just to keep it hard and ready, but not to come. Not yet. I have to maintain control.
I am losing control now. I know it. The pace is all me but it’s happening without my agency or my intention. It’s like my body and her body know each other so well that eventually, they will just start to hurl themselves at each other just to get some respite from the torture.
This whole time, my dick has been riding waves of pleasure and I have been able to contain myself and manage my way through the gaps as they ebb and flow. But now it’s constant. Now every stroke electrifies it with a tingling madness that builds and builds and builds. I can sense the orgasm in the shaft, and my head is a mess as my whole body obeys the obsession to just erupt inside her. And I might have finished this way, had she not uttered the sexiest phrase to expand the spell she’s cast over me: “Now I want you to fuck my arse.”
I pull out and my dick rages at me but it’s just enough time to allow the madness to fade.
She shifts onto her side and I move behind her. She lifts her leg and invites—no, she demands—my cock in her tight little hole. I slowly push in at the perfect pace, and at the perfect angle, the practice of two people with complete trust and knowledge of one another’s bodies. She stretches and grips me at the same time. “That feels so tight,” she says as she greedily rubs her clit. She cranes her neck around to watch me watch my dick use her. She’s at her most vocal now, revelling in the filth of it, telling me how much she loves having me fuck her here.
I force her leg higher and I dig further into her. I grab her breast and squeeze it, my hips driving harder and faster. I can hear myself growling and grunting and I have no control over either. I’ve spent so much time trying not to succumb but I’m losing, she fits too well, she’s too beautiful, too filthy, and then she makes the decision for me and tells me to come—and the world disappears and my thigh muscles seize and my fingers curl and my throat growls and I ferociously release everything I have into her, filling her pretty little arsehole with cream.
She comes too, and our breathing washes over one another as my cock pushes out the last drops into her. I slowly pull out, in a daze, my eyes watering and my body aching.
We float down together and I look up at her content face.
“You’re such an animal,” she says.
I like that.
Best friend, co-parent, business partner.
Animal.
The End
We have built a life together over decades and it’s given me more fulfilment than I ever could have imagined. There is nothing I don’t know about her. I have explored every story in her past, lived through every moment of her present and I know every minute that she has planned for the future.
It’s a level of intimacy and friendship that I know is beyond most.
But sometimes—maybe more than sometimes—it can be easy to forget we are also lovers. It can be easy to forget how we used to claw at each other, devour each other, and obsess over one another. It can be easy to forget to work on the things that never needed work in the beginning.
She used to be the unattainable Polish girl I yearned for from the back of the lecture hall. The one I stared at when I should have been taking notes when she was unaware of my existence. The first time I spoke to her I got my name wrong—somehow switching my first and middle names—and thankfully she found it endearing. When I first touched her hand I panicked that my palms would be too sweaty and it was only later I found out she worried about the same thing.
We spent most of those university years screwing. She was never close enough and I never got my fill of her. I wanted to eat her alive and thank god I couldn’t because there was only one of her and I wanted to consume her over and over and over again.
Back then we didn’t need to make space. Back then we didn’t have to make time. Now we have so little of both.
But I still want to eat her alive.
So I cleared our diaries, closed the office, shipped off the children, and brought her to this place, deep in the woods, where no one could find us. Here we will eat, drink, walk, and fuck. We have stripped the clothing of our past away. Now we’re naked and alone, together. Now we can be something new.
The temptation to overwhelm her the moment the door closes is huge, but I push past it. I want to savour this. I want to remember when we could take our time. So I lie on the bed and I pretend to read the paper as she stands at the sink washing her hands. I hide secret glances at her from around the pages. Spying on her like I’m not allowed. Like she’s not mine.
But she notices, and she glides across the room wearing a smile of entitlement. She stands at the foot of the bed and I widen my eyes. She leans forward and runs her soft hands up my thighs. I’m still wearing underwear and my dick is pushing against the fabric already—I’ve gone from comfortably cradled to stiffening sensitivity with just the warmth of her palms. I lie still and let her climb up on the bed. She folds herself against my chest and she kisses me. Fuck, how she kisses me. Her tongue pushes into my mouth and her nipples harden against my chest and my right hand strokes her back and down to her arse. She sighs and it’s like we’re kissing for the first time, back in those early years, but without any of the nervousness or worry that we might be doing it wrong. What an intoxicating mix of excitement and intimacy. Christ, I’m obsessed with her.
She kisses my chest and my stomach and runs her hands over the front of my underwear. She can’t wait, my impatient girl, so she pulls it off, tossing it to the side and immediately straddling me. She enjoys these rare moments, I know, when she’s higher than me and I have to kiss upward while she grinds against me with her cunt. My hands roam over her back, exploring and containing her while I move my mouth to her nipples. They stiffen at my breath and bead against my teeth and her whole body reacts to the attention they’re getting. I know she’s looking down, enjoying the view. I know how much she enjoys being spoiled, and I suddenly realise I can’t remember the last time I made her look at me this way.
Was it that night at her friend’s dinner party, when we had argued and she stormed out of house, making me chase her down the street before ending up in a small park with her leg hooked over my shoulder as I finger fucked her against a tree?
No, more recently when I dragged her into the bathroom of a fancy restaurant, just because when she’d arrived I could tell she’d had a bad day, and if I couldn’t make it go away, I could greedily lap at her cunt while she covered her own mouth to stay silent.
Now we’re pawing at each other in those same ways. Muscle memory from years gone by flooding back. Kneeling up in front of me, she arches her back and pushes her incredible ass against my torso, reaching to my neck and hair while I kiss below her ear, nibbling toward her throat while playing with her nipples. She occasionally turns and kisses me, her movements becoming more chaotic as she loses control over her body, my dick pushing against her from behind.
That’s when I let my hand gently sink down to her clit.
I only tease her, initially. My strong fingers apply just the right amount of pressure to bathe in the warmth of her, creating a hunger in us both. Her breathing, already short and uncontrolled, intensifies and she says “you’re making me so wet, baby”.
I love hearing it and I love how she’s now starting to rock her body, desperate for more friction from me and it’s only a few moments before she’s thrusting against my fingers with needy enthusiasm. I pick up the pace and rub her in a way I know will push her over the edge. She’s so soft and wet and I breathe in her scent guiding her movement. She moans that she’s going to come and sure enough the muscles in her body tighten and release as her cunt explodes and drizzles all over my hand, soaking the delicate, expensive sheets. She pants in satisfaction and gratitude but I am not nearly done with her. I lie back and she climbs above me, suspending her drenched cunt right above my mouth. She balances herself by pressing her palms into the headboard and I grip under her thigh while she pushes the lips of her cunt against me. I can tell she feels sexy and powerful and she controls her own pace this time. As I gaze up at her and provide all the friction she needs, I marvel at how beautiful she looks, how lucky I am, and how much I want to fuck her.
And I will. Soon.
I moan against her cunt, knowing that a welcome side effect will be the vibrations of my growling voice against her sensitive clit. My intention to be slow and deliberate is gone. This is like the beginning when we skipped lectures because we were fucking and missed shows because we were fucking, and missed parties because we were fucking. It was never enough and it’s not enough now, all these years later.
The difference is how comfortable she now is with her body. When we were both young she worried about anyone being that close between her legs. I had to put her at ease with long make-out sessions down her neck, her breasts, her tummy and her thighs. Letting her grow accustomed to extended periods of time with her skin under my tongue and her flesh in my jaws. I wanted her to get used to my face always touching her. I had to reassure her with words and with time that I absolutely loved her taste, her texture, and the very act of balancing her on my tongue.
She would nervously part her knees and blush, looking at me through the strands of hair half-covering her face. She would scan me, trying to detect any sign of hesitance or reluctance, and seeing only singular, clear-eyed hunger. And those first months, I would kiss her cunt gently and slowly, signalling that this isn’t something to be rushed—that making her orgasm is not even the main goal. And over time, the tension she held in her stomach melted away and she began to melt against my face. In time, she began to lose herself.
Things have changed. Now she adores having me luxuriate here. Now she opens herself up and smiles as I race to eat her up. I hear the moan that brings me back to the present and tells me that she’s close, so I take the pace away from her and move my head from side to side so I push her straight into another orgasm. She trembles against me, clinging to the headboard while I catch the rush of her juice on my tongue as she comes all over my fucking face.
She moans compliments that I can’t hear because she’s in my blood and I’m already moving her to the next position. I lie her flat on her back and kneel beside her. She’s spread out across me like a meal and my hands seize at her cunt again. She doesn’t want to just be spoiled this time though, and demands I move my hips closer so she can get a hold of my dick. She wastes no time in putting it in her gorgeous face but as she does, I continue to work her clit, making her moan and wriggle and now it’s my turn to feel the vibrations of her voice. My cock shudders with the stimulation and stretches to get closer to her, my pulse coursing down my shaft. I bet she can feel it in her throat. Sucking my dick somehow makes her even wetter and with her hands gripping my thighs, she tries to concentrate on the task even as we can both hear the delicious smacking sound of my hand using her. My knuckles are gripped by her pussy and with each urgent clench, I know she’s getting closer. She’s so fucking wet and my fingers slide in so smoothly—as if I’m the sexiest man in the world. Eventually, it’s too much and she removes my dick from her mouth and holds it in her hand so she can cry out and finish while hanging on to me.
My dick is still hardening and she wastes no time in putting it back into her mouth. She holds my balls and alternates between sucking me and slapping my cock onto her tongue. The sensation of that intermittent impact on the bed of her mouth drives me crazy and she knows it. I’m given a warm, wet thrill from the tip to the shaft and I’m ready to push down her throat before she bounces up and brings it back down again. And it’s not just about how it feels, it’s about the view she wants me to have. Showing me that she wants to both serve me and tease me. Showing me that I am powerful. How can she suck it with such reverence and hunger like it’s the first time? How is it that she’s still so obsessed with it? Entranced by it?
But it’s not the first time and that’s why she has so much control. The first time was hot but it was nervy for both of us and she was timid because she didn’t yet know what I liked. That first time she needed guidance, and feedback.
She’s not timid anymore. She’s sucked my dick in the back of cars, in hotel lifts, and one time under the table in a dark little bar. When we’re in public, she’s fast and dirty. She consumes me like water at the end of a drought. The thrill of being caught turns her on providing a countdown to get my cum in her throat as fast as possible.
When we’re at home, she’s more ceremonial. She sprinkles her fingers along my balls like raindrops, watching me grow before she’s even touched me. She’ll gently plant her lips on my scrotum, often leaving dark red lipstick marks—my favourite shade. When she does start sucking, it’s measured and choreographed for my gaze. She likes to put on a show. Now, she glides her face down the side of my shaft, letting her teeth graze me, and then buries my cock deep into the back of her throat. She gags slightly and the sound is so sexy, as is how she looks up, smiling, her drool leaking off her chin and the end of my cock, showing me how much she loves having me in her face.
“I want you to get you inside my tight pussy. My wet pussy,” she says, and before I know it I’m on my back and she’s lowering herself onto me.
The moment I sink into her, my cock twitches with relief but also need. She starts bouncing on me and I touch her breasts. I’m worried that she’s fucking me so deeply that I’m not going to be able to stop myself from exploding inside her. My heart is racing and I close my eyes. Maybe I can’t stop it.
As if sensing the same thing, she climbs off me and tells me she wants me to take her from behind.
I take the briefest moment to admire the view in front of me and let my body rest. She backs onto my cock, easing me into her, twisting her head to watch as I fuck her again. I can’t believe how tight she is and my balls slap against her so hard it hurts a little. This position drives me crazy and I love resting my large hands on her ass squeezing into the flesh and planting seeds for bruises that will bloom tomorrow.
I still don’t want to finish yet so I pull out and I put her onto her back. I want to see her while I fuck her. I want her legs around me. I want to kiss her more. I drive my dick inside her and she claws at my head while I stretch her. I control the rhythm and the depth, even while she tries to influence the friction, wriggling underneath me. I am so close to flooding her, so I pull out again and grab my dick with my hand. I let her watch me pump it, just to keep it hard and ready, but not to come. Not yet. I have to maintain control.
I am losing control now. I know it. The pace is all me but it’s happening without my agency or my intention. It’s like my body and her body know each other so well that eventually, they will just start to hurl themselves at each other just to get some respite from the torture.
This whole time, my dick has been riding waves of pleasure and I have been able to contain myself and manage my way through the gaps as they ebb and flow. But now it’s constant. Now every stroke electrifies it with a tingling madness that builds and builds and builds. I can sense the orgasm in the shaft, and my head is a mess as my whole body obeys the obsession to just erupt inside her. And I might have finished this way, had she not uttered the sexiest phrase to expand the spell she’s cast over me: “Now I want you to fuck my arse.”
I pull out and my dick rages at me but it’s just enough time to allow the madness to fade.
She shifts onto her side and I move behind her. She lifts her leg and invites—no, she demands—my cock in her tight little hole. I slowly push in at the perfect pace, and at the perfect angle, the practice of two people with complete trust and knowledge of one another’s bodies. She stretches and grips me at the same time. “That feels so tight,” she says as she greedily rubs her clit. She cranes her neck around to watch me watch my dick use her. She’s at her most vocal now, revelling in the filth of it, telling me how much she loves having me fuck her here.
I force her leg higher and I dig further into her. I grab her breast and squeeze it, my hips driving harder and faster. I can hear myself growling and grunting and I have no control over either. I’ve spent so much time trying not to succumb but I’m losing, she fits too well, she’s too beautiful, too filthy, and then she makes the decision for me and tells me to come—and the world disappears and my thigh muscles seize and my fingers curl and my throat growls and I ferociously release everything I have into her, filling her pretty little arsehole with cream.
She comes too, and our breathing washes over one another as my cock pushes out the last drops into her. I slowly pull out, in a daze, my eyes watering and my body aching.
We float down together and I look up at her content face.
“You’re such an animal,” she says.
I like that.
Best friend, co-parent, business partner.
Animal.
The End
