Last story?

It had been 5 years since we had gotten laid in that hotel room, with my former boss and current coworker.

By now, I had abandoned that boring, routine relationship that added nothing to my life. I had resigned myself and surrendered completely to the pleasure my ardent partner gladly provided, without the remorse of society and without thinking about the consequences.

For his part, he didn't give up anything; he continued with the woman of his life and with his perfect family, although every afternoon he gave in to the sweet and ardent temptation of satisfying his sexual desire on my body.

We spent mornings, afternoons, and days devouring each other's lips; touching each other like two people sick with lust, learning about each other's most sensitive parts; reaching ecstasy every chance we got, whether alone between four walls or surrounded by friends who no longer cared about the madness we were immersed in. Touching heaven and enjoying the hell we were living in. We kissed until our lips burned, biting each other until we left marks on our bodies, leaving marks on each other without caring who could notice.

Inevitably, I became addicted to his possession. I'm stubborn and awkward in life, but submissive in intimacy. A person who detests violence against women, yet who wets her underwear when she's choked and spanked with just the right amount of force. However, nothing can be perfect. We could have lived a life of desire, but I fell in love and began to desire more than he wanted to give me. The desire to fall asleep exhausted in his arms won me over, and savoring his arousal in the mornings took over. I became addicted to the desire in his gaze to an unhealthy degree; I needed him 24/7. And what I enjoyed so much became my torment. Resigning myself to the fact that this would never happen, knowing I wouldn't be enough for him, I tried to break off all contact. I blocked him from my social media and everything else I could. I traveled with friends to the Caribbean and got as far away from his fiery existence as I could.

A month of crying; rage and unsatisfied desire had me on the verge of collapse. I spent nights smelling her perfume and touching myself with her memory, unable to match the excitement of hearing her voice.

Do I have support? Of course I do. An army of friends bearing down on me during my days of tears and encouraging me in my weakest moments, saving me from running into their arms. But an addict doesn't understand reason, and when desire has ruled you for so many years, there's no way to avoid ignoring what your body desperately craves.

Taking on all the guilt and shame I'd long since lost, and knowing full well that what he was doing was wrong and how damaged I would be, I took advantage of the fact that my friends weren't around and waited at my desk, hoping to run into him after work. I mortified myself by monitoring his connection on the business chat, making sure he realized they were still in the same building. It doesn't excuse my manipulation, but it worked because he was just as disturbed as I was. I didn't expect him to notice I was in the chat, though, and I panicked when he texted me.

Those minutes I hallucinated about finding him in the elevator when I got off and kissing him without caring who else was in it. In a moment of lucidity, I reacted and thinking that maybe I could still save myself, packed my things and left. I breathed a sigh of relief when the elevator opened and it wasn't him in it. I quickly went through the turnstile and left the building, a little calm and disappointed, on my way home. However, when I looked back to close the door, I saw him getting off the adjacent elevator. As best I could, and with all the strength or cowardice I could muster, I didn't throw myself into his arms and walked as discreetly as I could to the bus stop. I took the long way, ashamed of how childish my actions were and how manipulative I could be.

Not feeling his presence, I convinced myself I was safe and continued on my way home. But a few meters from the bus stop, I felt his presence again. I would have liked to say I was able to feign surprise or annoyance at noticing him by my side. But in truth, I only hid my big smile, which I hadn't had in a long time, and the peace that came from smelling him. I panicked at the idea that he would notice that it hadn't been a coincidence, and I acted completely irrationally. We took the bus and he sat next to me. Regretting the stupidity I had done, I tried to ignore him, but as expected, he began to ask how I had been all this time.

The mixture of his scent, the arousing deep tone of his voice, and the touch of my underwear made my groin increasingly damp. I could feel my panties getting damp at the thought of riding him right there in front of everyone, no matter the consequences. My nipples hardened like the first time and cried out to be between his teeth, for him to grab my neck to show me that only he can possess me with the roughness that ignites my entire insides.

I'll never know if he truly mistook my attempts to keep enough distance to control myself for nervousness, or if I was the one confused, and my body was truly shaking with nervousness. I only know that even though my words urged him to go with his people, my body begged him to stay.

It took us hours to advance a block. In the meantime, we cried; we fought; and, as often happens lately, I had an anxiety attack I never imagined I'd ever have. We said goodbye more times than I could admit, but neither of us wanted to leave. At that point, the only thing that mattered was that our lips wanted to devour each other with kisses and we longed to possess each other. Almost naturally, my lips claimed his or his claimed mine; the truth no longer matters. Our tongues joined and our breathing increased; our legs didn't respond, and leaving everything aside, he cornered me against the wall, took my breasts with both hands and squeezed them, claiming what was his. I reached down to feel his hard member under his pants. He nibbled on my neck, leaving a mark of his passion, and the temperature rose through the roof. I continued kissing him, but from one second to the next he came back to his senses and moving away his lips he told me that this was the last kiss, but I took his head and kissed him again emphasizing that it couldn't be the last. As we could we walked the short way to my house and when we were in the elevator I couldn't hold back any longer, I lowered his pants and put his thick, hard cock in my mouth, I didn't care that there were only seconds left until we were alone, I needed to feel his flavor and I needed it NOW, I needed to hear his divine moans. I didn't really care about the possibility that when the elevator opened there would be a neighbor and as we could we opened the door to my apartment. As soon as we were inside I continued savoring his member; I sucked as much as I could; I ran my tongue all over his thick penis and put it back in my mouth going as deep as possible, I wanted and needed to have him inside me and absorb all his fluids, I needed to taste him again. But that wasn't what he had planned. With one hand, he grabbed my neck, applying just the right amount of pressure to turn me on even more. Brutally, he pressed my hands up in the air, my breasts against the front door. His deep voice whispered in my ear that he would penetrate me so brutally that I'd remember it for days. Letting go of my neck, he spanked me so hard that my moans reflected the pleasure only he could give me. That was the only pain I wanted at that moment. He continued spanking me until I felt the burning sensation beneath my clothes, making me drip with desire. Between moans and exaggeratedly labored breathing, I begged him to rip my clothes off and make me his. He let go of my hands, but I didn't let them go. With his left hand, he applied just the right amount of force, wrapping his arm around my neck again, pressing my cheek against the door. He opened my legs, and with his other hand, he unbuttoned and pulled down my pants. He moved even closer, exposing his hard erection against my ass.

I gave myself completely to the ardent path his right hand took as he made small but firm circles on my clitoris, the moans soon turned into screams and when two of his divine fingers entered me the first orgasm was captured in the palm of his hand; Even when my legs weakened and closed by inertia, he did not abandon my crotch and intensifying the rhythm he managed to make my screams continue and with my body shivering in ecstasy itself, with my eyes full of tears of pleasure I began to feel how my excitement dripped down my thighs.

Our excitement was such that, in a split second, he had slicked my underwear under his shirt and thrust into my ass without hesitation, completely surrendering to the passion of the moment. One of the most arousing pains of my life. In my constant need to feel him inside me, I arched my back and, with the palms of my hands, applied pressure to intensify his thrusts even more. I could feel his moans every time his penis pressed fully inside me.

Without knowing when it happened, I found myself without a bra and with his fingers pinching my nipples while he continued with the infernal rhythm that allowed me to feel how he dripped all his juices on my buttocks, confusing his fluids with mine.

Between kisses and hugs, we made our way to bed. We didn't dare say a single word. We knew that even though we had enjoyed ourselves—as always!—nothing had changed between him and me.

After minutes of calm and caresses, my breathing began to flare again, my nipples hardened again, and I could feel the fire his caresses caused on my body, his member regaining its divine hardness. Knowing that perhaps this would be the last time I had him in my bed, I climbed astride him and positioned myself so that when my hips moved, our sexes felt the heat and need we had for each other. As best I could, I brought his face close to my breasts and let his moans melt into them. Slowly, I introduced his thick cock inside me, straightened my back to feel him completely, and little by little, I intensified the rhythm of my hips, feeling myself full, complete, and like a fucking Goddess riding his purebred. He placed his hands on my buttocks, demanding more from me, the sound of our juices mingling with our moans and our exaggeratedly hot breathing. I rode him enjoying every second, intensifying the rubbing and making small jumps that allowed me to feel him completely inside me with the unbridled desire for more. He knocked me down and got off the bed, grabbed my feet and pulled me to the edge, penetrating me again with a desperate rhythm and with divine precision he continued thrust after thrust, every so often he loosened his grip on my neck and took my hips to reach the deepest part of me. I could see him bite his lip, throw his head back and moan at having me completely ready. I screamed with pleasure when he hit and bit my nipples, I knew I was his, that he could possess me in every way possible at that moment and I would still scream with pleasure. I could only smile when I felt his excitement inside me with a brutal cumshot.

Knowing that everything we had done was a step backward in my process of moving on from him, I got out of bed and took a hot shower hoping it would wash away my guilt.

Evidently, he left after achieving the one thing he adores and needs from me. He went back to the woman he chose for himself. I, on the other hand, was left alone with the remorse of still being trapped by desire, with his memory of the best sex of my life vivid in my body. Still determined to forget him and willing to give up the love of my life to regain my mental stability.