Long Awaited Fulfillment

This description might be slightly different from what really happened – it was a wild situation and parts of it are a blur. But I’ll do my best to tell you every detail.

I had graduated from high school, then college, and I still wanted him. The first time we touched each other was in high school. We were traveling to a Jewish youth group convention. I sat next to him on the dimly lit bus that evening and our thighs and shoulders brushed. We inched closer and closer until my leg was draped over his. I couldn’t believe how thrilling that felt. Later that weekend, we kissed in an empty hallway for about two minutes before getting caught by chaperones. I remember exactly how it felt. He stroked my hair even though it was a little crunchy from gel. I wore a floral blouse with a high-waisted black pencil skirt, fishnet tights, and ankle boots. His lips were incredibly soft and plush. He grabbed my ass and pulled my body against his, and I felt how hard he was for me. His touch clearly communicated the strength of his desire. Even in that short couple of minutes I knew the fire between us was real and unlikely to die out.

The last time we touched each other before we fucked was after he got engaged. I was in college, reeling from a recent breakup and overwhelmed with finals, and he started texting me again. So when I was home for winter break he picked me up one afternoon and we made out in his car. I remember exactly what I wore that day: dark wash skinny jeans, an oversized emerald green v-neck sweater, and black chelsea boots. He pulled down the neckline of my sweater, exposing my pale tits in the bright daylight. He leaned down to kiss and suck them while we sat in his car in my quiet suburban neighborhood. I couldn’t tell if my nipples were hard because it was so cold outside or because I was so turned on. I knew it was wrong to kiss someone who was engaged. And years later, when we finally fucked, he was married. But the fact that he desired me so much that he was willing to cheat on his wife with me? I found it too difficult to resist.

On the morning of the day we fucked I took a train to the city and called a Lyft to drive me to his university’s campus. I found the right building and knocked on the door of the single occupancy bathroom to which he’d directed me. He texted to make sure it was me, and then let me in. He locked the door. We looked at each other. We exchanged a few words about how wild it was that we were there together. Two people who had desired each other for years – and now we were alone together with the intention to act on that desire instead of push it away. We gave ourselves permission to do this illicit thing.

I set my bag and coat on the gray tiled floor and turned to look up at him. It was the beginning of March, but still chilly outside. He wore jeans and a sweatshirt – a sweatshirt from high school, where we first met. His shoulder-length brown hair was pulled back in a bun and his full lips looked luscious. I stepped closer so that I stood right in front of him. We looked into each other’s eyes. We kissed. My hands began to roam over his body. His back, his shoulders, his chest. He immediately grabbed my ass and began to play with my tits. His touch was strong and aggressive. He reached under my shirt, unclasped my bra, and I felt his warm hand on my skin. He kissed my neck and it felt amazing. I took off my shirt, now naked from the waist up. He reached down into my skirt and started fingering my pussy. He stroked my clit and my lips with more pressure than I expected, but I liked it. I reached under his shirt and ran my hands over his chest and then down to his thighs, feeling his cock hardening. He pushed the rest of my clothing down and continued to rub my clit, giving me bursts of pleasure. My skirt and tights hung loosely around my ankles. I tried to keep my gasps and moans quiet. There were plenty of people in the building just going about their day who could have heard us if we were too loud. We took off his shirt. He told me to spread my legs, so I stripped down to nothing. I opened my legs wide for him and loved the feeling of his fingers teasing my wet pussy. He licked his fingers so he could taste me. At his request, I turned around and bent over so he could finger me from behind and get a good look at my ass. I was naked while he was still wearing most of his clothes. I felt thrillingly vulnerable and exposed in that position. This turned me on even more.

I got down on my knees, unbuttoned his jeans, and pulled them down to free his cock. I took him in my hand and stroked while he put a finger in my mouth for me to suck. I looked up at him and we made searing eye contact. I could tell how seriously he was taking this. And I could tell how intensely he enjoyed seeing me on my knees before him. I knew for a fact that he had fantasized many times about me sucking his cock. I licked the tip of his cock before slowly taking him into my mouth. I took him as deeply as I could and kept my lips tight around him. He put his hands on my head and tried to push me and shove himself down into my throat, but I pulled back and told him that I don’t like that, so he stopped, allowing me to set the pace. I stood up and we kissed. He tasted himself on my soft lips. He spread his winter coat on the floor and layed down. I positioned myself on top of him and felt his hard cock pressing against my warm pussy. He took his cock in his hand and rubbed it against my clit. It was unreal how turned on I was – I was soaking wet for him. This man I’d been fantasizing about for years was naked and hard beneath me on the bathroom floor. It was surreal. I told him that I wanted him so badly, and if I was going to rub my pussy against his cock, why shouldn’t we just fuck? I wanted to feel him inside me more than anything at that moment.

We decided to fuck. I got a condom from my bag and put it on him. I used my hand to guide his cock inside me. I felt him filling me and stretching me with his girth. I rode his cock and he grabbed my hips and it was so hot to feel his hands on me and see my tits, nipples hard, swinging as we fucked. I always enjoy feeling my sensitive nipples brushing against a lover’s chest like that. He asked me to get on my knees so he could fuck me from behind, so I did. He thrust into me fast and hard. This position didn’t feel as pleasurable for me, but it did feel good to fulfill his fantasy, and I liked the idea of him using me for his own pleasure and taking control. I was happy to serve as the object of his desire and submit to him. He spread my ass cheeks apart so he could get a good look. This made me feel self-conscious even though I knew he took great pleasure in seeing every intimate part of my body. After a little while I laid down on my back and we fucked with him on top. I wrapped my legs around him, felt him thrusting in and out of my tight cunt. It felt so good, he felt so good, I was high on desire and lost in sensation. At this point, he couldn’t hold back any longer – he came inside me. Part of me wished he had come in my mouth so I could taste him, and part of me wished I could feel him coming inside me without a condom so that I could really feel his cum in my pussy. The heat, the feeling of it dripping out slowly. The primal feeling of being a good little cum slut marked with his ownership. Now I’m glad we had the sense not to do that. It would have made our encounter even more intimate and difficult to process.

I declined when he asked if he could lick my cunt. I didn’t feel comfortable enough with him or with the situation to share such an intimate act. I propped myself up so that I was leaning back on my arms with my legs spread. He sat in front of me and I asked him to finger me. He rubbed my clit and slid one finger into my pussy. This felt delicious, but I wanted more. I asked him to add another finger, so he slid two fingers deep inside me, and it was perfect, filling me just right. I leaned back and enjoyed him fucking my pussy with his fingers. I was close to coming, and he was attentive and tried to help me finish, though I didn’t in the end. It would have been ridiculously hot to come right there, looking into each other’s eyes with the knowledge that he could feel my cunt squeezing and pulsating around his fingers. Being so pent up with desire in such an intense, overwhelming situation made it difficult for me to relax enough to have an orgasm. I mean, we were in a public bathroom! A couple people even knocked on the door while we were in there.

He put his clothes back on. I thought maybe we’d just take a break and then try again to get me to come, but we ended up just talking for a while. I eventually got dressed, too. We hugged and kissed, and I leaned into him, very reluctant to leave. He was standing with his back against the sink, and I was facing him, with my head resting against his chest. A gush of deep emotions washed over me. I felt a shivery, fragile feeling as I processed what had just happened. It felt painful to part from him. We stood in that bathroom and part of me felt like I couldn’t move, I’d just be stuck there forever. I felt nervous about how this might change our relationship, and how things might be different between us now that we had been intimate like this. We had talked about having sex for so long, and now we had really and truly fucked. It was no longer an unrequited fantasy. This was reality. It was crazy. I managed to pull myself away and walk out the door. He went to class. From there I went to meet a friend for coffee. I didn’t tell her about what just happened. After that, I had a job interview. And after that, I went home and cried. I felt so overwhelmed and conflicted about the ethical implications of fucking a married man. It took a while for me to sort out my feelings.

I don’t regret fucking him. I felt guilty about it for a long time, but ultimately he was the one cheating on his partner, and I think that’s on him. Apparently, since then he told his wife about what happened between us. It really surprised me that he told her. I know it would be healthier for both of us if we just ended all contact for good. I wish I had that kind of self-control. He clearly doesn’t.

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