Is There a Lover You Can Never Resist? (I Shouldn’t Be Here)

WORDS BY TIANA

I shouldn't be here.

I know better.

I should’ve been on the 4:05 Delta flight back to Atlanta, the place where I ran to after running away from “him.” I could’ve been halfway back to my life there with my good job, my decent love life, and my new, almost furnished townhouse in the Cascades.

But I hadn't untangled myself from my life in D.C.

Ten years here; grad school, working on the Hill, and loving—but never giving in to—one stubborn man.

He thought I was gone.

After last night, where we fell asleep fully clothed in the bed we once shared in the same apartment where I grow my African violets… After we lingered over cups of coffee and hot chocolate at Plato's Diner in College Park… After he kissed me goodbye tenderly and softly as I hustled to catch the Metro to Reagan.

I should be boarding a plane that would take me thousands of miles above the clouds, instead of the Metro headed to L'Enfant Plaza. I should be settling into my aisle seat not strolling the few blocks to his office.

I enter his building and press the button in the elevator for his floor. I’ve visited a million times before when we dated, so the receptionist lets me in without announcing me. I strut down the hall towards his office, which is closed, and knock.

He answers.

A look of surprise registers on his face as I walk into his office, close the door behind me, and slide the lock into place.

Friends don't do this.

“This,” this is what we talked about doing when we were lovers. Fucking each other exclusively. Trying to build a life together.

It's close to quitting time at his association, so everyone’s gone for the day except him. He was always alone in his office after quitting time. In bed, at the house, at work… My former honey was always the busy worker bee.

"Your flight left an hour ago," he finally uttered, shocked and surprised by the bold woman before of him. Me, the chick who adored him, the one who left him to follow a stubborn dream, the one who still considered love weak and her pride strong.

I was here for real, wearing heels, a trench coat, pearls and nothing else. I had long ignored his wish for the black frilly nothings he loved taking off my soft frame.

Panties and a bra were timewasters.

"My flight left without me,” I replied, nonchalantly. “The last shuttle leaves at 10pm. If I get finished with you in enough time, I can make that shuttle...”

"But… You shouldn't be here,” he began. “You're…"

My kiss cut off his words. Nipping and teasing his lips, I explored his mouth deeply.

Completely under my spell, his lips leave mine and travel to the nape of my neck, then to my cheek before nibbling on my ear. His fingers and tongue work in tandem, hitting my spots—the area behind my earlobe and the back of my neck causing a domino effect of sensations, a 1-2 punch that sends me whirling to the edge, shivering.

I'm down for the count. I'm his for the taking.

I guide his strong hand up my thighs and under my skirt.

I’m wet.

Wetter than I had been with the lovers before and after him.

He grins as his fingers slide between my lips and bask in my familiar stickiness, the result of my arousal. He strokes my clit, filling me with the desire I had missed since our last time together.

The beautiful thing is he knows me, knows what I like—one, two, three fingers in and out of my warm pussy in an alternating rhythm that sways from stroking my clit to pushing deeper inside of me.

My exploring hands are full as well, stroking the stiff 8-inches underneath his trousers. It was wrong to make him stop, but I pulled away and dropped to my knees to get what I wanted.

I unbuckled and unzipped his pants to free his dick from his boxers. I ran a hand over him, feather-light touches from the tip, which was slick with pre-cum, all the way down to the root.

I had fallen in love with this man three months into the relationship, but I fell into a deep lust with him and his magnificent dick the first time I gave him head. I kissed and licked his dick, intimately, like we had never parted. I took all of him in to my mouth, reveling in the contrasts of hard and wet in my mouth. He was almost there, and I wanted… No, I needed to get him to climax, to spill his warmth into my waiting mouth.

He resisted.

Well, he tried.

I knew he wanted to cum inside me, but I wanted to taste him all. Finally, he could take no more and took matters into his own hands.

I willingly followed his lead.

He flipped me around and bent me over one of the chairs in front of his desk. As one hand massaged my pussy, the other fumbled for that pack of special gold packages he stashed in his drawer for times like these.

Then, he entered me.

I exhaled deeply, releasing a soft stream of sighs over my lips. I forgot how much I enjoyed his fullness inside of me. He knows this and waits…

Unmoving, he stands firmly planted behind me. He refuses to stroke me, but I can feel his heart beating through the veins in his dick. The subtle vibrations alone are enough to make me cum.

That’s all I want…

That’s all I need…

Still, I stand there, bent over with back arched, counting down to the moment he starts stroking.

And the strokes come, quick and easy…

Fast and incredible…

Slow and methodical…

The extended process is all torture, sweet comforting torture, as it’s exactly what I wanted and everything I needed.

He pulls my hair, forcing my face closer to his, and I see his smile, the delight and intensity mirrored in his eyes. He likes what he sees, me unraveled and unglued, biting my lip, alternating between sighing and cursing.

Then, as I break into pieces, cumming and squirting all over him as he reaches his climax, he says it: "I've missed you."

My breathing and heart ease back to a normal, unfrenzied pace. I wish I could tell him that I missed him too, that I want to come back home, but those words won't form.

My pride is still strong, still intact and one amazing orgasm won't break it down. But, as I guide him back to his desk chair and straddle his lap, his dick stiffening beneath me, I reconsider. Maybe another one or five times cumming with him will change my mind.

Fin!

Have you ever had sex at the office? If not, would you if you had the opportunity? Would the idea of getting caught turn you on even more? Is there someone from your past that could always get it whenever they wanted? Have you ever continued to sleep with someone you knew you should leave alone because the sex was amazing? Do you enjoy teasing your lover with pleasure? What did you think of N.T. Girl’s first attempt at a Wet Wednesdays?

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