Want - Sex Stories

Want

... move. I think about saying no, but I do not want that. What I want is to feel him deep inside of my hungry body. I had come thoroughly, but I know that it is only a little of what he gives. Also, there was the fact that he was giving me the opportunity to say no. “I want to stay with you,” he says finally. His lips crush mine as he enters me. His thickness stretches me, the pain of it causing my body to exhale in relief as he pushes his cock into me, inch by inch, torturously slow. He lifts himself slightly. I both feel him and see him bottom out. The look on his face causes my heart to ache. This is one of the moments I want to capture, to hold him close and never let go. He does not start to work himself out, only to plow back in again. He does not start the hip movement that makes me cry out for more. He just watches. “You stay the night, you be with me, take me, please me, but in the morning…” I speak without thinking of how I must sound to him. “Yes,” he encourages me, his eyes questioning. “In the morning, you leave. I’m just the girl you fucked last night. I need more. I know that was not part of the plan, not what you want or need. Somewhere my want for your unapologetically selfish ass became a need. I need more. I need more of you.” His expression is unreadable and my heart begins to sink. “What’s wrong with being the woman I fucked last night if I give you pleasure? You want me just as badly as I want you. What could be better than that? What can be better than ...

... this?” He moves just enough to make the head of his cock dance against the bridge of my cervix and create a surge that shoots through my body. “Get off me please,” I beg, on the verge of losing what little I have left. Neither of us move. “No,” he whispers. “This is where I belong, here with you and inside of you.” “I can’t think when you are inside of me.” “Then don’t think. Feel!” He starts to move, slowly withdrawing himself only to push back in. As always, his movements are so measured and certain. “You make me so weak. It’s so embarrassing.” “Be weak, embarrass yourself on me.” Pushing and pulling, his hips move. Each time, he hits my spot so perfectly and then drags himself across my sensitive clit to heighten the pleasure even more. “I don’t want to just be the girl you keep around to fuck.” His thrusts begin to quicken. “I don’t want to be the man that gets so taken by a woman that he loses control. I don’t want to miss sleep or business opportunities. I don’t want to get desperate, calling, knowing she is looking at the phone, looking at my number, listening to my pitiful messages and not answering. I don’t want to be that man that lurks in halls, or waits in the dark watching this building, hoping to see you, praying that you are alone. I’m too old for that shit.” With each sentence, his strokes become more forceful. The sound of our flesh meeting echoes through the room, along with my sharp cries and sensuous moans. He was pursuing his pleasure now, finding it within ...