Despite making love for nearly the entire evening in the LA apartment, I shared with my roommate, (she was out of town for the weekend), the tenderness was bittersweet knowing my beloved husband had to catch an early morning flight for the east coast.
Newly married, a spirit of sadness hung in the air knowing this was to be our first separation; our bodies and spirits would be away from one another for the next fourteen days.
We dreaded it.
My handsome man, leaving me for the first time since we married and moved in together. How I would miss him. His sweet brown eyes and handsome face. His gently receding hairline and the stubble on his face. All 6 feet three inches of him. And those big strong hands, his tight little butt and those muscular legs of his. His firm smooth penis, neatly trimmed pubic hair and hairless balls. Oh how I was going to miss this man that God gifted me with.
So what was that stranger’s problem at the restaurant after I bid farewell to my beloved?
Why are some men clueless and not able to understand No means No? Why do some men only think with their penis and not their minds?
I’m referring to the jerk, that “disco lizard” sans the Frank Costanza leisure suit, who quickly snatched the seat next to me at the breakfast bar, after I put my beloved on the plane.
On impulse, my favorite Ma and Pop neighborhood restaurant seemed like a good place to drown my sorrows over a hearty breakfast and strong black coffee–especially to replenish the energy I had expended for nearly the past 12 hours.
In a mad rush to get out of my apartment on time to make it to the airport, I did nothing more than throw on that gold and black sundress from yesterday, apply a little color to my lips, and run a brush through my hair. No makeup. No bra. That was it, nothing else.
Oh, plus the fact we frantically made love one last time on the living room carpet, not far from the sliding glass patio doors, as the sun made its glorious appearance casting a golden sheen to our naked forms–literally until the last possible minute before we had to bolt to my car.
Yes, the thought of my roommate unexpectedly walking in on us again, while we were doing the deed crossed my mind. I didn’t care. I warned her to knock from now on when she comes home. Our living situation is temporary.
The weight of my husband on top of me felt wonderful. Taking both sides of his stubbly face into my little hands; we never broke eye contact as we made love for the final time. Anticipating his every thrust; I rocked my hips forward to fuck him right back with my form.
Who was leading who? Our bodies, laden in sweat and breathing heavily, moved in perfect unison. We never closed our eyes as we fucked, and kissed, and fucked.
His hairy chest pancaked my breasts as we mated. Purposely lying close to those sliding patio doors in the dark so we could enjoy the sunrise together, we lost sight of the fact that residents in nearby apartments could now probably see us if they looked out their windows. We were oblivious. I was saying goodbye to my kindred with my body..
Taking the air out of my lungs with each thrust, I clamped my legs around him just above his hips. Digging my nails into the firm flesh of his cute little ass, I squeezed with all my might causing him to jerk in pain.
Good pain. I pulled my husband deeper inside of his woman; he cradled my head into both of his arms and continued pounding.
“Ohhhhhhhhhhh…..……….I love you so much……..I love you so much.”
“Feels……..sooo damn good………..sooooooo good.”
“Hmmmmmmmmmmmmm.”
I crave the primal sound of his balls slapping against my ass, in perfect rhythm, like a piston in action. The carpet was irritating my bare back and shoulders with the friction caused by the pounding he was giving me, but his cock get rewarding me with pleasure.
Releasing my grip upon his ass, I quickly reached over to container of organic coconut oil and worked it through the fingers of my right hand. Slowly and gently, I played with his tight little anus with the fingers of my left hand, then tenderly opened him up to work with the oil laden middle finger of my right hand.
“Girl, what are you doing…that feels wonderful. Mmmmmmmmm, don’t stop babe. Don’t stop!”
He kept pounding, as my finger slowly explored his nether region. After a few seconds, I gently began finger fucking my husband in perfect unison as he fucked me. Our strokes were identical. I wish my jeweled buttplug was in me too.
The sun was now in my eyes as we fucked ourselves into a frenzy, backlighting our living room. Our bodies basked in a golden hue from its glorious appearance. All this overwhelmed my emotions as I felt a massive climax building.
Here we were on the floor of my living room, chest to chest as my breasts cushioned him. Face to face, eye to eye. My hairy pussy being stretched as he had his way with me. Our bodies in perfect motion. His weight somewhat crushing me, deep kissing as our tongues danced. I licked his sexy mouth and chin before burying my tongue back as far as I could down his throat. We both somewhat gagged and kept on fucking. Together, as one, as our dear Creator intended. I panted my husband’s name.
“Oh! Oh! Don’t stop……….Mmmmmmmmmmmmmm. Mmmmmmmmmmmm. Hmmmmmm,” I panted between breaths.
“I am really going to miss……….aghhhhhhhhhhh! Aghhhhhhhhhhh.! Oooooooooooooh!”
Oh yea, Oh yea, mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm. Hmmmmmmmm.”
He said, as I bucked like a wild bronco with this final orgasm. For the duration of this entire climax, we never took our eyes off one another. I must not have been paying attention while cumming and absently drove my finger further up his ass, which triggered a massive orgasm on his part.
My husband loudly grunted, “hmmmmmmmmmmmmmm, hmmmmmmmmmm, hmmmmmmm,” Oh…….oh……..oh……..aggggghhhhhh,” his body in spasms as his penis jackhammered my pussy, unloading all the semen and sperm he had available into me.
He collapsed onto me, spent and drained.
Good thing he was all packed and ready to go before this sacred farewell fuck, because we literally raced out the door grabbing his stuff without looking back. Now I was packed too. Full of my husband’s cum.
I mean, as quickly as he collapsed on top of me, I told him we had to go. No time for a last cuddle, and no time to clean up.
Which is why getting back to the little restaurant…
Mr. Lizard made me more irritated by the minute. Softly crying to myself, hunched over the menu in the busy little establishment; he kept coming on to me. I mean, no goofy attempts at small talk, nothing about the weather; he wanted me to go home with him right after breakfast.
Did I mention in our haste to make it out the door I forgot to put on any panties?
That’s right, sitting right there on the end breakfast bar stool, eyes moist from softly crying in my strong black coffee, my dear husband was still with me. Literally, he was still with me. He remained inside me. Every now and then I would feel remnants of his precious seed, that sexy semen I had earlier swallowed, that he sprayed over my breasts, deposited all over my big ass, and a few short moments ago, shot deeply into my now very lonely and empty pussy. It seemed so long ago now. Yet I was still wearing my husband. We are bonded.
Think of it; the physical evidence of beloved’s masculine love, his sperm; at a snail’s pace, slowly seeping down the inside of my bare thighs. He and I would have gladly lapped it up and shared it earlier, but we ran out of time. My dear husband must have been saving up his last load to make it special for me, I mean when he ejaculated inside me that last time, the sheer volume of his cum was quite remarkable as it jolted its way deep into my sacred lady garden. Must have been my finger working his anus. The look in his eyes as he inseminated me was magically tender and innocent. Even today, looking back nearly two decades, that particular visual remains deeply etched in my mind.
Yet Mr. Lizard, seated on the stool next to me, would not stop in his misguided efforts to get me back to his place. That’s LA for you.
No, I didn’t want his business card or contact information. No, I was not about to tell him where I lived or where I worked. Yes, several times I told him I was married; a newlywed for that matter; even showed him my ring, yet to no avail. I kept saying I was not interested, he kept trying to talk me into following him to his place.
He was relentless, worse than any obnoxious used-car dealer or insurance salesman.
Ugh. To this day I don’t know why I did it. What possessed me to do what I did next?
Again, on impulse, without thinking, it seemed the right thing to do.
“Come on baby, your husband isn’t here; let’s go to my place, smoke some weed, and I will show you how a husband is really supposed to treat his lady.”
And then it hit me, I knew what to do.
Letting his words hang in the air for a few moments, I smiled at him for the first time during our encounter.
Leaning slightly towards him and saying nothing, my left hand worked its way down between my legs and into my messy pussy. As my heart raced while still looking him full in the eyes, I brought up a glob of my husband’s jizz, and slowly licked it from my fingers, mere inches from Mr. Lizard’s astonished face.
“Yes he is, as a matter of fact, he is right here,” I said, before standing up and walking over to the front counter to settle my bill.
And that was the last I ever saw of Mr. Lizard…
