Four days later

I had missed him. It had only been four days, but it felt like an eternity and I ached from his absence. The emptiness was now palpable.

Six o’clock – he was supposed to be here now. I gripped my phone, looking at it every few seconds, knowing full well it would make a noise if anyone tried to call or text. But still, I may have missed it, not heard it, or could have accidentally turned off the sound.
I stared through the window, no longer caring about peeping discreetly from behind the curtain. Where was he? I flicked through the TV channels, not really seeing it properly, as my mind was full of him, needing him now.

Just as I went into the kitchen to put away a couple of plates – something to do to break up the waiting – I heard a car door slam shut. His footsteps neared the front door and I dashed to open it before he had chance to knock.

“Well, hello,” he said, unnecessarily and leaned in to kiss me. I thought he was going to pull away and start a conversation, but he stepped forward to continue the kiss. I locked the door and he kissed me again, this time deeply, his tongue exploring my mouth, his hands moving down my back, over my bum. He pressed against me, so I knew he was already hard.

Then, I gasped as one hand went down my loose cotton trousers.

“There’s plenty of room here, isn’t there?” He said, cutting straight to the chase with his long fingers. No gradual, subtle sliding over my knickers, but right on to my soft, wet and eager clitoris.

I had thought this was just a hello kiss, but I was ready for him, if it was right now, or a few hours later. Four days was too long.

So, his welcome fingers made me writhe and groan and forced my hand. To his belt buckle, button, zip, bulging pants and upright, throbbing member.

His fingers and kisses became more urgent, more intense – he wanted me there and then. He tugged at my trousers and I obliged, easing them down and stepping out of them and he followed suit.

“Here?” He suggested, pointing at the stairs. I agreed and bent over the bottom three or four steps, as he trailed warm kisses down my neck, shoulders and back, before gently lowering himself into my wet vagina. It felt so welcome, so good, so delicious that I sighed loudly.

He drew back and thrust again and again, harder, faster, as I leaned on my forearms on the step, sliding back and forth. I could feel him building up to a climax and I knew this was not going to last long, but it didn’t matter – the thrill of a spur of the moment ‘quickie’ was exciting in itself and meant my lover was as eager to see me as I was to see him.

“Ah! Yes!” He exhaled, as he exploded and collapsed on to my back, nuzzling my neck. I loved to feel his warm breath on me and his sweating body pressed against me, knowing I had caused it.

As we got to our feet, pulled on our clothes and composed ourselves, he hugged me tightly.

“God, I really missed you this time,” he said.

“Yes, I could tell,” I replied.

 

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