We hadn’t seen each other in person in two weeks. For many couples this would be a minor inconvenience, a tiny roadblock to be forgotten upon reuniting. However, for Ben, you would have thought the apocalypse had come and we were the last two people on Earth, miraculously finding each other in a hopeless dystopian hellscape. The amount of passive aggressive anger that iced his words on our nightly video calls felt like a stab to the heart with each syllable. He didn’t seem to care that this trip was out of my control, or that I still wasn’t due back for another week. Every minute spent apart was a brick, building a wall between us while I sat back helplessly watching his anger grow.
By the second Friday of my trip I couldn’t take it anymore. I told him I was coming home for the weekend to visit and to have some serious conversations about our future.
—
My hands were shaking as I turned the key in the ignition to shut my car off. Why was I so nervous? It’s not like this was anything new. For the last nine months our relationship was the definition of volatile toxicity. We’d had countless “come to Jesus” talks that always resulted in his sheepish admission of guilt, layered in platitudes about passion and sacrifice. Being the all too forgiving girlfriend I am, I always stupidly believed him and we went on our way. At least until the next time. But something about this time felt different.
I tossed my keys in my purse and straightened my short black dress before climbing the 3 flights of stairs leading up to his door. I took a deep breath and closed my eyes for a moment before raising my small balled fist. Knock. Knock. Knock.
The door slowly opened to reveal Ben standing there in a dark blue shirt I’d given him for his birthday. It looked fantastic on him, and for a moment I forgot everything I was there to talk about. I smiled at him and he flashed a cocky grin back, noticing me checking him out.
I stepped forward, nudged my shoes off, and heard the door close softly behind me. Ben grabbed my purse from me and set it carefully on the end of his kitchen counter. I moved across the room and leaned against the wall awkwardly, not knowing how to begin the conversation.
Before I could even get a word out, Ben was standing inches from my face. I felt my heart rate jump in spite of myself as his intoxicating scent hit my nose. For how frustrated I was with him, I hated to admit how much his scent turned me on.
“I missed you.” Three simple words. Uttered in the sweet, soft, dark tone that always made my heart flutter in anticipation and excitement.
“Ben, we have to talk.” I put my hand out against his chest as a buffer, reality crashing back as my brain began to emit “what the fuck are you doing” panic signals. I came here to deal with his crazy possessiveness, not get all doe-eyed over his muscles and…
He laid his own much larger hand over mine, trapping it against his chest. I could feel his heart beating just as fast as mine. “Are you sure you want to talk?”
“Ben seriously.” I tried my best to hide my desire, but it was difficult to be this close to someone I knew I had an electric sexual connection with and NOT want to fuck them. I mean come on, I’m only human. Despite all our problems, sex had never been one of them. I stared into his dark brown eyes and let my gaze flick down to his soft lips, just for a second, before resuming eye contact.
“You don’t look like you want to talk. I bet you don’t feel like you want to talk either.” His eyes wandered lazily, lustfully, down my body, with all its curves hugged tightly by the thin black fabric.
“Ben, I -” But before I could get another word out, his mouth was on mine. His kiss was insistent, hot, needy. I felt my resolve melt as I pressed my body against his, feeling every hard line on his body meet each soft curve on mine. We had kissed hundreds, probably thousands of times, but this kiss was something new. A deeper level of lust, sparked by the uneasiness buried under the surface of our relationship, a passion fueled from a place of unrest. Gone was any sense of comfortable familiarity as our tongues danced with desperation and our hands explored each other roughly.
While I held his neck with one hand and pulled him closer with the other, he slid his hands down the neckline of my dress, blindly finding my plump tits and freeing them from my bra, lifting them until they hung lewdly out in the open. He broke the kiss for a moment and took a step back to stare at me, my face and chest flushed from the heat of the make out, his eyes finding my hard pink nipples. Instinctively I put my hands up to cover myself, but he grabbed my wrists and held them both above my head with one hand. My face was level with his chest as I breathed hard, feeling his free hand trace the soft crease of my breasts, slowly circling towards each nipple. Suddenly he pinched my left nipple hard and I gasped, slightly annoyed by the violation before feeling a gush of liquid in my panties. Fuck, I guess our discussion would have to wait.
As if he could read my mind, Ben’s fingers traced down my body, pulling my dress down with ease as he continued to hold my wrists hostage above my head. Next he unhooked my bra, letting it hang loosely off my shoulders, effectively covering nothing but a small strip of skin under my swollen tits. Finally he slipped my panties down my toned thighs, leaving them to rest at my ankles as his mouth met mine once more. This kiss was even needier than the first, and I felt his fingers explore my naked skin with a renewed boldness, before finally tracing a path from my hips to my inner thighs.
There he hesitated, as if his fingers were asking a question, but with his mouth on mine, the question became rhetorical. His soft fingertips slid smoothly over the last inch of my thigh until the slightest touch against my soaked pussy made me jolt. He broke the kiss again at that moment just to smirk at me before plunging two thick fingers deep inside me. I moaned with a deep primal lust that surprised both of us, feeling my needy pussy flex against the thick intrusion.
He slowly moved his fingers in and out, letting my pussy adjust to his bigger fingers again. Two weeks of being on my own was nothing but a reminder that my small hands couldn’t even come close to the sensation of his. I continued to moan into his chest, feeling my knees weaken. Noticing my body slip half an inch down the wall, he lets go of my wrists and wraps a hand around my waist, guiding me backwards through the threshold of his bedroom before setting me down gently on the end of his bed, his fingers buried deep in my swollen, soaked pussy as we moved. He sank down on his knees in front of me, nudging my legs open wider before angling his hand down, allowing space for – ahhhh.
The sensation of his tongue flicking across my clit as his fingers pumped in and out of my wet slit was an indescribable bliss. I felt my legs start to shake and flushed with embarrassment and how quickly my orgasm was building. Right as he took me to the edge, he pulled back, leaving a sudden rush of cool air over my searingly hot clit and an intense emptiness in my pussy.
“Not yet.” He smirked, before standing, taking his shirt and jeans off in a fluid motion. My eyes widened as he took a step forward, the thin fabric of his boxers the only remaining barrier between my lips and the massive bulge of his cock. Ben knew I didn’t usually enjoy giving blowjobs but my throbbing pussy was screaming at me to move things along so he’d bury his hard dick deep inside me.
I hesitantly tugged at the hem of his boxers, freeing the thick, weighty cock and letting it bounce half an inch from my nose. It had a strong musky smell that somehow turned me on even more. I took a deep breath before taking the bulbous purple head into my mouth, earning a gasp from Ben as I began to lick the sensitive spot where the head meets the shaft. I slowly take him in a few more inches, my mouth already overproducing saliva as my throat prepares to fight the intrusion. Once I reached my limit I began to suck and lick across the portion of the shaft encased in my wet, hot mouth. My efforts were rewarded with twitches and moans from Ben as he subtly tried to push himself deeper into my throat.
I resisted, not wanting him to trigger my sensitive gag reflex, and he growled “Touch yourself while you suck my dick.”
I blushed at the vulgar words. Dirty talk was something Ben had been asking me to try for a while. I was resistant only because I found it awkward to say everything out loud, but I had to (hypocritically) admit, it turned me on just as much as it turned Ben on.
Following his instruction, I slipped a hand down in between my legs and felt my finger tip slicken with my own wetness. I rubbed lazy circles over my sensitive clit, moaning against the hard cock in my mouth as the sensation of pleasure began to override my cock-sucking apprehension. Before I even noticed Ben had pushed himself deeper, until his heavy balls smacked against my chin. Saliva began to run down my chin and onto my tits as my mouth worked overtime against the large intrusion. My tongue and his thrusts worked in harmony, causing Ben to pull out roughly and suddenly, right on the edge of his own orgasm.
His face was just as red and flushed as mine and I noticed how sore my jaw and throat were. Before I could say anything he grabbed my wrists again and pushed me back onto the bed, before climbing on top of me. I stared into his eyes and felt the hot, lubed head of his cock brush against my clit and vulva, a mix of both of our saliva, my pussy juices and his precum providing a slick and smooth entrance for him to tease.