In desperation, she called Jason Jayden, her best looking and worst acting boyfriend.
Jason was, as the saying goes, “a mistake,” and an obvious one, but he was an excellent lover and well-built for it, too. Whenever she was desperate the two of them fell into bed, and he would bury his very attractive face between her legs until she begged him to fuck her.
Which he didn’t always do, the smug Prick.
“I’ve missed you,” he said. She was glad she couldn’t see the look on his face.
“I need you,” she said, trying not to give in to his games.
“I know,” he said. “Ten minutes,” and hung up.
She sat on the edge of her bed and waited.
Jason still had a key. He never knocked, or asked permission. He took his shirt off before he got to the bedroom.
“You look good,” he said, nodding. She was naked except for her panties and shoes, perched on the edge of the bed with her hands folded.
He unbuckled his pants. His cock, semi-hard, still impressed her. She stared at it. It stirred.
“I haven’t eaten today,” he said.
She spread her legs.
Unlike most men, Jason really did enjoy the taste of a woman, and he could—and would—spend hours carefully teasing and licking the juices from her pussy. The longest being the afternoon when they broke up—when he spent close to nine hours bringing her to orgasm after orgasm.
She’d never told him that she was, that evening, only a single scream from taking him back when he gave up.
Jason tugged her panties down to her ankles.
“Can I keep these?” he asked, seriously.
He masturbated with them wrapped around his cock, she knew.
“I want to touch it,” she said, nodding toward his cock. Immediately, it stiffened. The tip smeared a clear, precum kiss on her cheek.
“Good,” he said. He shoved her onto her back without letting her touch him, and dropped to his knees. She spread her legs like a dancer, as wide as they would go.
He bent and, before starting, licked her pussy from bottom to top as if he were eating and ice cream cone. His tongue slipped inside her.
She was very wet, she knew.
“God, I missed you,” he said.
She wound her fingers into his hair.
And slowly, methodically, he began to eat her pussy while she relaxed.
Two hours later they were fucking. Vigorously. Her voice was a painful, steel wool sound. Her chest was already slick with his cum.
They’d discarded the condom within minutes.
His cockhead was pressed up against her cervix so hard that she wanted to scream, but it was exactly what she needed.
“Harder,” she panted.
He stared at her, pausing. “You’re really horny today, aren’t you?”
She bit his shoulder.
“Harder,” she screamed.
He laughed, grabbed her shoulders, and pushed so hard with his cock that she almost passed out. The depression started, weirdly, to lift.
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