#london calling

LIVE

Part 3: Going to London

It’s been almost a month now since he walked out of my life.

But he’d been in my thoughts every day.

The dark-haired man with piercing black eyes who took capture of my mind, body, and soul.

I’ve been watching him for several weeks now sitting at the coffee shop probably knowing that I’m watching him but acting oblivious.

Looking for the right opportunity to approach him the way that he approached me however he was meticulous and everything that he did was so in control and so confident he knows his surroundings that’s why it’s hard for me to believe that he didn’t know I would be coming.

Today’s the day; I need him, I no longer just want him, he gave me a taste and I wanted more. I put on my sundress wearing nothing underneath knowing that he would want easy access if he decided to let me in, knowing that this would please him, I slid on my sandals, my nerves twisting my gut. I trusted that this is what he needed too, that he craved me as much as I did him. I had observed his every move for the last few weeks; I knew where he had his morning coffee, got his mail, ate his lunch. I didn’t feel like a stalker only because this was exactly what he did to me. I knew where he lived, but sadly he was very aware of his surroundings and cautious so every door and window locked, I knew there would be no surprise entry, my only option was through the front door which meant I would have to knock, that alone almost derailed me because he could very easily shut the door in my face. As I approached his gate I was happy to find that it was unlocked but I still knew the front door was locked. Walking up to his stoop I raised my hand to knock and the door opened before I could make contact.

We simply stared at each other knowing what the other needed, my mouth watering at the sight of him, my body reacting, flushing under his gaze. My insides tightened and contracted, feeling myself grow wet between my legs, I yearned for him and my body reacted. God he is beautiful, the mere sight of him makes me weak in the knees; it seems like hours as we stood there staring at each other neither of us saying a word.

We hadn’t talked in weeks.

We didn’t need to talk.

We just wanted each other sexually as we had not healed yet.

I knew what he wanted.

He knew what I wanted.

I knew what I needed.

He knew what he needed.

He only needed to instruct me and I would know what to do.

“Go.”

All he said was the one word, to others it would have meant, leave. And I could’ve turned and walked away but that’s not what he meant as he raised his arm for me to walk through. It was a clear instruction.

As if I’d been there before I knew exactly where to go straight to his bedroom and as I walked past him slightly sauntering so that he would see the shape of my hips through the sundress I lifted the sundress to reveal my naked body and stripped it in the hallway leaving it at the bedroom entrance, discarded in a heap. We would not need clothes. Lowering myself onto my knees, I crawled on all fours to get into his bed knowing exactly what I was showing him, knowing he would love that view of my ass, taking my time letting him watch, I turned over to see him leaning against the door jam, as I predicted, arms folded, watching my every move, it was daylight outside so I was completely exposed. I crawled to the top of the bed and roll onto my back, propped against pillows, positioning myself in the position he prefers, palms up, legs bent, slightly apart, exposing my pussy, presenting myself to him, without speaking a word, calling to him to come to me and use my body for it is his.

My breasts heaving, breathing labored in anticipation. Still no words being spoken just staring at each other knowing that we are crossing each other‘s boundaries, tossing our hard limits aside, ignoring our No’s, for the primal need of each other. It was empowering and intoxicating.

I inhaled deeply, not realizing I was holding my breath, I needed to remember to breathe. And as if to acknowledge he was suffering too, he took in a deep breath and exhaled, he had been holding his breath. I was affecting him as much as he was affecting me. And I was igniting him as he was igniting me.

We continued to stare at each other. A test of strength. He was a magnificent specimen of a man. Leaning against the door, looking effortless, unaffected. Arms folded across his chest. Eyes hungry. I scanned his body, barefoot, clad in jeans and a T-shirt. God this man is stunning, he oozed confidence and sex appeal, he was freshly showered, he must have just finished up his daily errands, come home to relax but could still feel his tension. We had our encounter a few weeks ago and had not spoken since, for good reason, but that didn’t matter right now. We needed each other, we needed an escape, the primal desire to taste each other, feed off each other. We were good, no, great at this, the other stuff was messy but it didn’t matter right now. I continue to survey his beauty and my breath catches in my throat as my gaze stops at the outline of his hard cock. Clearly, he is as turned on at the thought of me as I am of him. His cock is magnificent, some men have beautiful cocks, but his is perfect, designed for pleasure. My pleasure. It’s anything but average. Thick, long, incredibly perfect in shape and it fills me completely. Made for me, I like to think. Oh, how I have missed my cock. The one thing that he permitted me to use, call mine, that is connected to him. My mouth waters at just the thought of tasting him. I can hear my own breathing, see my chest rise and fall as I gaze at his cock, hungry, growing ravenous, I am shocked I am not drooling. He is fully erect under my gaze, it is straining against his jeans, confined, wanting to be released. As if he knew what I wanted, he unzips his jeans freeing himself so I can have a better look. My eyes return to meet his and there is a new fire. He knows I want to taste him. I instinctively licked my lips and I could tell it made him weak in the knees as he shifts his body but he is in control and I knew that I could not speak nor would I make the next move without his instruction. I glance back at his cock and bite my lower lip. It seems like an eternity before he speaks but when he does he grants me what I want with two words, two words that I needed to hear from his lips.

“Touch yourself.”

His words snap my head up, to meet his hungry gaze, it’s almost as if he was punishing me with that sharp tone, but I can see the desire in his eyes, he’s breathing is labored too. Lowering my gaze in a bow, I slowly move my hand between my legs, two fingers softly outlining my pussy lips, I can feel my moisture and slide my fingers just between my lips to moisten them. Moving my fingers back and forth encircling my clit. My hips react and begin to move in a circular motion in sync with my fingers. My breathing deepens, my gaze moves back to his cock and he is stroking himself watching me. My cheeks flush when I meet his gaze, he is so hungry for me but restraining his needs while I pleasure myself. Doesn’t he know I want him more than to pleasure myself? Eyes locked I continue to tease my clit, I can feel how wet I am getting, I can see his stroking quicken, as I quicken my pace, he’s matching my pace. Never breaking eye contact, almost as if we can’t break apart or we will lose our connection. Our breathing is matched, our hands pleasuring our own bodies. I need him to come to me but he needs to stay across the room.

I mouth one word.

“Please.”

And it’s all he needs, in one movement he is out of his jeans and shirt and on top of me. Spreading my legs apart, entering me quickly. Fiercely. Not being gentle. I don’t want gentle. I want him. I need him. We both let out a huge sigh of relief. Oh my god, do we fit together. He fills me completely. He sets the pace, slow and steady, savoring each thrust, our bodies quivering, I am so close already. God, we needed each other I can feel him holding back. I wrap my legs around his hips and draw him in deeper, I hear him growl “FUCK” and my nails dig into his back. His pace quickens. My body matches his. I mumble “Fuck me, Master.” And he sits back on his knees, grasping my hips yanking me to him, watching my breasts bounce as he fucks me, holding my legs behind my knees, to gain deeper access, locking eyes with me, watching my body react to him, chest flushed, breathing labored, hungry eyes, I need his release. I need him to fill me with his seed. I want to explode around him but this feels so incredible. I can barely hold my eyes open. The pleasure is overtaking my body. My hands move to his chest and I grip with my fingers, nails digging into him. Trying to pull him towards me as I push him away. I need to release but don’t want this pleasure to stop. He is fucking me hard and fast, animalistic, primal. Our bodies are drenched with sweat as we hold back our orgasms to enjoy the pleasure of fucking. It’s overwhelming, intoxicating, I can not, will not cum without his permission. He knows this. He is my Master and he controls my orgasms.

As if he knew I could take no more.

“Cum for me.”

He didn’t need to say anything else, for my orgasms, are his. I explode all around his cock, my body bucks, and waves of pleasure crash over me. Grasping whatever I can hold onto as my body is overcome with pleasure. Moaning loudly I hear and feel him release inside me and another wave of pleasure washes over me.

He collapses forward, our bodies sweaty, our breathing labored, tingling from our release, he reaches behind my back and rolls me with him as he moves to the bed. Never releasing my body, tucked close to his chest, his cock still deep inside me, the most pleasurable aftercare. Tucking me nicely under his chin, our breathing is in unison, breath for breath, inhale…exhale, no longer panting but still labored, the scent of him and our sex intoxicating, savoring the scent, entering my nostrils with every inhale. His arms wrapped tightly around me he is not letting go and I was in no hurry to leave but we still spoke no words. I knew that words would just wake us up and put us back in reality and I was in no hurry. I wanted to enjoy this moment for I had no idea when our next encounter would be.

Seconds turned into minutes, minutes seem to turn into hours, we just laid there holding each other, breathing. I had no desire to leave the comfort of his embrace. I needed him and he needed me, as we lay there I could feel his body relax and drift off to sleep. Eventually, his tight grip on me went limp, as did his cock inside me, I smiled that it still completely filled me. Our legs intertwined, it felt like he didn’t want to ever let go and it was the most beautiful embrace I’ve ever felt; feeling needed, wanted, and desired all in one. I didn’t wanna get up and leave but I knew that I was not ready yet. I wanted to come to him completely, a new woman, a woman he deserved. And sadly I had not healed yet, I still had more work to do. Healing would be forever but the tools I am learning is how to cope and function and be the best possible me I could be for myself. For him. And he is a distraction and I would just waste more days if I stayed. He deserved the best version of me. I deserve the best version of me. The magical version, not the broken woman he came to in the beginning. He said he would wait, and June is right around the corner. I needed to honour him and go. Leaning in, I kissed his chest and whispered against his skin. “Please wait.”

As if on cue, he started snoring and I knew it was safe for me to leave. Slowly removing my legs from his, letting his cock slide out of me, his embrace loosened, he was in a deep sleep now. Getting up off the bed I walked to the doorway and gathered my sundress sliding it over my shoulders, letting it fall and cover on my body. The moisture between my legs reminding me of what just happened, I turn and glance back to see him watching me. I smile softly and turn and walk myself to the door gripping the handle, I pause. Resisting the urge to run back into his arms and tell him everything that I have learned and all the healing that I’ve done so far but I know that I’m not done and he wants a Goddess and he deserves fun, laughter, and orgasms. Not a hydra of mental chaos. He does not want the stress or the emotions and I have to trust that he’s working on his own healing and then we will come back together in the future. Hoping it is not the last time I would be in this house; trusting that we will come together again in the future, I step outside into the darkness, it’s nighttime now; I have no idea how long we were together. It does not matter, walking briskly back to my flat marveling at the beauty of the man I just left, saying a silent prayer that he will come to me once we have both healed.

{Read Part 2 Here}

{Part 1 is not for me to post.}