Impatient, I grip your shirt and pull you back to me. My legs are spread and you fit there. If the counter was less tall this would work perfectly. Though we had tried it once at another place, it wasn’t quite right and we’d ended up like animals on the floor, a mess of sticky icing and our own natural solutions to lubricant. I pull at your shirt. Tug at the fabric like an animal, or a woman possessed. You consent and lift it over your head, along with the wifebeater you wore beneath it. I keep my lips away for a moment, licking them as I gaze at the merchandise I have paid for emotionally a hundred times over. “I have missed you. Please, please just give it to me. Take me like you know I like it.” Our eyes are locked together in the most intimate of connections, and you nod silently, lift me up like a baby, or bride. “You’ve missed my big cock, huh? Is your little pussy just drenched waiting for it?” “Babe, you’ve got no idea. I’m surprised the wetness hasn’t leaked through my pants as well because I know my panties are sopping…” I can feel your hardness jump at my words and smirk. I have always had this power of you. And now that we have a chance to be together, I cannot wait to make you shiver and have you love me like I need to be loved.

Impatient as we are, we end up in the living room. I haven’t even been here before. The walls are a dusty kind of red. The flooring is decent, wood, even. From the fluffy berber in the hall I’d kind of had a notion that the interior would match. My eyes leave their survey of the room and fall back to yours, the hazel and green mix I fell in love with making me grin. If nothing else, i had missed you. I’d missed your body. You were strong, all wiry forearms and meaty biceps. Long sinuey legs that bring you to tower over my elegant stature of 5’3. Even if you weren’t amazingly attractive, I had always come to admire the look of you. Something in it appealed to me.

The thing that makes this the most exciting is that this isn’t just your place, and that I shouldn’t even be here at all. I had ditched school after lunch and taken the transit over here, sinking out of the blue and gray building with it’s lockers and permanent smell of b.o. after I’d partaken in pizza and dr. peppers with my girlfriends. It had been spurr of the moment. We weren’t even supposed to see each other that much, if at all, what with my mother being so insistent that 28 was much too old for me with only my 17 years of life.

You set me down gently on a fuzzy brown loveseat, taking several moments to gaze at the prize you worked so hard to win.