I have gotten back in touch with you. After my current quiet spot and barely adequate shags I couldn't stop myself. Plus I kinda thought its been about six months that's probably enough time for you to get bored of trying to be a good husband. The sweet taste of smooth, accessible and non evasive pussy, has a certain allure. This I know well.
I drop you a text and invite you over for coffee. When you arrive at the door you let yourself in like you always use to, I get up and you wrap your arms around me and pull our bodies together. I breath in your smell as my mind strings together flashes of sense memory. I'm already wet.
I make you tea. We sit and sip and chat and catch up. You don't have long a you're on lunch. Before you go you say to me, I'll see you soon. You go to walk away and then turn back to me and hug me. I dip my head and I say "I would kiss you but I don't know if I'm allowed". You pause and look into me, you say "Yeah... You're allowed".
The congress of our lips is tender. Soft. I run my hands through your scrubby hair and placidly roll my tongue with yours. Your mouth is so hot. I can feel myself really starting to slick up. I want you so badly. We part. You leave. You drop me a text within the hour.
"It was all I could do to stop myself ripping your clothes off".
Trust me boy, the feeling is mutual.
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