She raised her hips to show she wanted me. I slipped in easily. It was an incredible sensation. I thought about how long it must have taken him to work in that monster dick. Whereas, I just plunged in to the hilt in one stroke. “Fuck meee! Fuck me hard! Fuck your whore wife. Don't stop! Keep going!”I seemed empowered to hammer her like I had something to prove. Our bodies were colliding with a ferocity previously unknown. Our skin was slapping, and I could feel her vagina constricting around my erection. We worked in unison, both reaching for the same goal. The bed was squeaking and the headboard was hammering on the wall.Questions flooded my mind. Was I so energized now because I was trying to claim back what I was so willing to surrender? Was she thinking about him while I made love to her?“Ohhh my god! I'm coming. Fuck me!” she cried out, in a demanding voice, like I had never heard before. Her orgasms were intense, and pulling me over the top. It was at that moment that I. I looked down at the ivory sheets that covered my naked body and suddenly, like a sack of bricks to the face, I rememberd where I was. The feel of last night's escapades still lingered in my mouth....Five years. Five years down the drain. All the 'what-ifs' and the 'could'ves and shoud'ves' still on my mind. It had been two weeks since Brandon and I broke up and I was no lesser heartbroken. My friends, who fel I had enough time mourning the loss of my relationship, decided that I needed to get out for the night. They were right. Everything in the apartment reminded me of him. The kitchen counter where he would scoop his hands under my curvy ass with no issue to lift me up. How he would pull my legs apart so he could lick my already wet pussy until I begged him to stop. I could still feel his tongue as he found every corner of my womanhood, how I would moan loudly whenever he would focus his talents on my clit. The shower in the bathroom where we would fuck endlessly, especially after.
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