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Don't Forget To Breathe

It seemed like ages, but finally, Emma breathed.

Every now and then, sex is better than a rollercoaster ride. Not that I ride rollercoasters that much. Not anymore. But you know when something is going to be out of this world.

At this precise moment, I’m feeling fucking wonderful. My orgasm has been building for ages and right now I just want to tell him to fuck me harder. I want to come right now. But his gentle rhythm brings me to a point where I hold my breath; waiting for the next wave to push me over the edge – but it never comes.

His cock slides into me from behind. It has been for the last five minutes. His hand rests firmly on my right hip and my head has been shaking from side to side and my eyes have been opening and closing with every twist and turn. There is no urgency, by him, to fuck me hard. Maybe he’s pacing himself and relishing the same feelings that I am.

It was a rash decision. I was sitting in the pub having a glass of wine and reading my Kindle. A guy, standing at the bar and much younger than me, was looking in my direction. I know what he was looking at, or should I say, looking up. My skirt. I had draped it deliberately so that there was a considerable amount of flesh on display and the tops of my flesh-coloured hold up stockings were just peeping out. I caught his eye and threw him a wanton smile before I returned to my book.

I find myself on the edge of an abyss. I find myself holding my breath for what seems like ages. I am on the brink of my orgasm and yet it won’t crash over me. It must be the pace of his fucking, but it just builds up and up. I should have come twice by now. I probably would have with my husband.

He seemed too young for me. He must have been – what – twenty three years old, something like that. I am in my forties, by a long way, and yet – he couldn’t take his eyes off my legs. When he finished his pint I thought he would just leave, but he walked over to me. He placed his hand on my knee and leaned in to speak to me. It was a brazen move, and one that I should have slapped him for, but I was intrigued. My eyes diverted from his hand to his eyes as I listened to what he had to say. I couldn’t help but smile.

His cock fucks me like a knife through butter. I feel it reach up inside me before he removes it; tickling my extremities. At the point of full penetration, my mouth is open and I am waiting for a few hard thrusts to push me over the edge. They still don’t come, and neither do I. My mind changes gear when he gathers up my hair and pulls my head backwards. My ultimate goal creeps closer with every thrust of his sensational cock.

As he spoke his hand slipped up my thigh and onto my stocking top. He told me that he had been watching me and thought that it was about time we went back to his place so that he could make me feel better. I watched his hand slither up my thigh until I put my hand on it, stopping it from going any further. I asked him what had drawn him to that conclusion. He looked to where his hand was and raised an eyebrow and smiled. I did something wild and unforgettable. I think my husband would have been proud of me but I didn’t care. I quickly unfolded my legs and drew his hand upwards with mine. His finger nearly sank into my wet and waiting pussy. I told him we should go.

I suck in my stomach, clenching it every time his cock hits my special spot. I inhale deeply as he pulls my head upwards and penetrates me deeply. It is almost soothing. I can feel the pressure wave build up. And then he fucks into me hard. Not once, but a few times, and in quick succession. I was looking straight ahead, my mouth was open and I was panting inwards but not outwards. He swaps hands on my hair and I swear his cock penetrates me deeper.

I can feel my orgasm about to hit me. I suck in more air and I find myself on the next naughty step. More fucking and more air find me on the penultimate step. My arms are shaking as they struggle to hold me up. I can tell by the way his cock is entering me that he has changed his position slightly. But instead of putting me off my stride it actually starts to push me over the edge.

His fucking becomes more urgent. My lungs feel as full as my cunt. I can’t take in any more air and I can’t let go of what I have. My head starts to shake as my arms give way. My upper body falls onto the bed as a rush of air, in the form of a scream, leaves my lungs. Following it, were several sharp intakes of breath and outward screams. I end up panting with my face in the bedclothes. I can feel him force his own orgasm out of himself, and into me.

I had walked with him down the street and into his flat. We had approached the bedroom with his hand on the small of my back, pushing me inside. He lifted my skirt up and I turned my head to him. That was the only kiss he gave me. After he unbuttoned his trousers, he pushed me, forcefully, onto all fours and I remember smiling and giggling as his cock entered me.

The rest, as they say, is history.

 

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