Down The Memory Lane

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There is something about sitting alone in Green Gardens late evening during the winters. I ran my hands on the grass and pulled out a fistful. The smell of wet soil with colorful roses everywhere was adding a different positive feeling. I chuckled. I remember how my friend had once mentioned,”everyone has different versions of homesick. Some get sick with the very idea of going home.”

A part of me was missing him a lot. I thought of calling him up, talking to him and letting him know that it is hard to live without him. Waking up in his arms was something every inch of my body missed, him kissing me every morning, asking me where his clothes are and always mentioning that I’m an important part of his life.

I sat on a swing, reminiscing.  I remember waking up in my guy’s arms. I was planning to get off the bed to look for clothes… but then again, Sundays are for sleeping naked in your man’s arms. I looked at his innocent face. As usual, he was snoring loudly and sleeping with his mouth open. I smiled to myself, closed it and kissed him. A small smile came on his face. That’s the beauty of being in love; one small smile makes everything right.

I started running my hands all over his body. Lazily wandering, coming to a stop over his bulge. I began caressing it. The Smile on his face kept getting broader; he was enjoying it. I ran my hands inside his pants to hold his penis tight and  started stroking it. I wrapped a bedsheet around my body and went a little down. I lowered his pants and started stroking him more vigorously.

His dick was hard, looking for little action. I got off the bed and sat facing his tool. I spit on it and started licking it from top to bottom. I turned around and started sucking him off while looking at him. He looked all confused; probably trapped in a dilemma whether he is in a dream or it is happening in real life. I started sucking him even harder and more violently. I knew he was about to ejaculate, so I started stroking his tool harder, positioning it near my boobs. He came.  And also, he was up, looking at me licking his juices off my breasts.

“This is the hottest sight I’ve ever woken up to,” he said. I got up to clean myself; I was standing in front of the bathroom mirror when he suddenly came from the back and blindfolded me. He asked me to bend down and used something to tie my hands. A wicked smile crossed my face. Men with naughty fantasies are a turn on.

Many thoughts passed through my head; I was wondering what all he could do to me and before I could conclude a slap landed on my ass. He held my butt cheeks tight and then smacked me again and continued doing that for a while and then whispered in my ears, “They are red baby, you want me to stay.” I was running out of breath, and somehow I managed to say no.

He lifted one leg up on to the washroom slab, slapped my vagina tight and started rubbing it vigorously. I was moaning loudly. He grabbed his handkerchief and stuffed it into my mouth. And I was able to feel more fingers making their way in, after a long struggle, I came. I thought everything was over, but he bent me over the cold slab and I was able to feel his penis make way inside my vagina.  Because of my already flowing juices, the tool made its way inside with no struggle.

He started slowly, trying to make me feel every move and suddenly picked up speed. I groaned in pain and pleasure simultaneously. I knew that because of endless tears my makeup was all ruined and I had already distorted my lipstick while blowing him. I was too scared to look at myself, and he did the honors by removing my the blindfold “I want you to watch yourself when I do you. I want you to see your helpless face, and I want to you go on your knees” he kept saying nasty things in my ears and suddenly pulled my hair and went even faster. He took the handkerchief out of my mouth and asked me to scream his name.

He told me to sit on the bathroom slab and spread my legs. Without much argument, I did. He went inside me and started fucking me harder than before.  I wrapped my legs around him and kept whispering “I will come any second. I ..will..come…any…fucking….second..” I kept saying these things, and when I was about to come, he went harder than ever and came with me.

We took a cozy shower together and crawled back to bed to sleep.

Suddenly, drops hit my face. It was raining again. I got off and the swing and started making my way back home. I looked at my wrist, the marks of the rope were still there. Scars are like tattoos which last temporarily on the body and permanently on the mind.

7 thoughts on “Down The Memory Lane

  1. I have been following your writings from a long time. Honest feedback is that you are getting monotonous with your writings. We expect new spice from you as you have raised the expectations so high with your excellent writing skills. Hope to see more from you.

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