Now before you start reading I would just like to remind yall I am not a professional…
I am an amateur, I’ve never shared anything publicly.
Depending on the outcome this could be a one and done.

So “keep in mind that I’m an artist, and I’m sensitive about my shit”.
If you don’t like it that’s fine, you just had to be there to enjoy it as much as I had, or hadn’t…
Because it’s literature.

It had been 17 years, but the moment I seen him I fell in love all over again. Walking around the corner, eyes searching for me. I couldn’t control the stupid smile forming across my face, I could feel my heart beating through my jacket, and the butterflies fluttering throughout my stomach.

That wasn’t the only thing I wanted in my stomach. 🫠

City traffic on the way was very unusual to a small-town girl like me. I almost got hit by a taxi and kept missing my exits.
That, and him on the phone rushing me to be in his presence.
I called before heading his way. Panicking. About Parking, driving in a new city, when to come, where to go. Everything was so unplanned, unorganized. I needed assurance, I needed to feel like a woman, not a strong, black, woman. Just a woman, who needed the security of a man.
And he gave me that by saying
“everything will be handled, don’t worry about anything, just get here.”
The assurance in his voice, a voice I hadn’t heard in over 17 years, his tone, his confidence, it calmed me.

I’d never heard those words put together before. I usually handle everything.

Keeping my composure
I said“I need to hear you say you want me to come to you.
He paused, I heard him smile through the phone, then he said “I want you to come to me”

and my panties moisten.

My desire to be wanted by him should be studied, I’m sure the obsession would be labeled as unrealistic. I needed him to crave my body just as much as I’ve craved his over the past 17 years.

We used to fuck like rabbits.
Raw.
Every where
Anywhere
All the time.

It was mostly me, begging for more until I was too tired to lift my eyelids. We were so young then.
I didn’t know my body well enough to cum all over him, which is why I’d have energy well into the morning.

Until we both needed to get up and get dressed for class or decide to ditch, stay in to go another round.

Immediately after I gave him my virginity I told him, he was to be on call whenever I needed him, he agreed. He taught me everything I knew about sex back then.
He was an asshole then; probably still is. But he was always so patience with me. Me being inexperienced I didn’t know a thing about sex. I thought penises were slimy. I didn’t touch his penis the first year we had sex. It slipped out once, my reflexes grabbed it and put it back in. Once I realized what I’d done, I panicked. But his dick felt so good I couldn’t contemplate on it for too long.
(He was the only one I’d been with the first 2.5 years, and til the day the biggest.)
When we’d finish I’d stare at his penis, inspect it, touch it, pick it up and watch it fall over. Squeeze the base so it’d stand upright, erect, ready, hoping to go again.
He was always so clean, so smooth, so long, thick, and hard. My mouth water as I think about it.  But that was 17 years ago, and this is now.

Now I’m ready to make new memories…

Part 1: continued

I flashed my lights so he could see me as he walked out to meet me. I needed him to come greet me like the Princess I am, open my door and sweep me off my feet. Tell me he’d been away from me for too long and how I should NEVER disappear from his life ever again. I need him to float me up to his bedroom, rip my clothes off and put me through the headboard.
I excite myself at the thought of being pleasured by him. Imagining his hand gripping my neck, stroking me deeply, passionately. Like he hates me the most and loves me with every ounce of blood in his body at the same time. Filling my insides with him, all while telling me how he can’t live without me. Tying me to the bed and threatening to keep me there for his own guilty pleasure, just to make sure I’ll never leave him again. I only want to belong to him. But we both know the reality of the situation.