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Written by Carly Cox / Pictures by Jack Boyer
Biting down on my lower lip hard, tearing it from my teeth, I sat looking as seductive as I possibly could, while he moved around the bedroom snapping pictures with his camera. On my knees I sat watching the man I was once head over heels for, as he moved at different angles and distances trying to capture the perfect shot of my bare breasts on film, all while thinking about what could have been, had we both made different choices. He came closer, grabbing my thighs and spreading my legs wide to show off the tiny colorful g-string barely covering my pussy that he made me wear for the shoot. Constantly giving me directions on how to pose, how to look. It took me some time, but I finally built up the courage to simply state how much I had desired to be his wife back then, instead of the one he had wrongfully chosen, that later destroyed his life and took his kids away from him.
Surprisingly, we spoke at length on how our lives could have turned out had we ended up together, while he directed me in remove my panties for a close up. Spreading my thighs once more, exposing myself to him and his camera, as the sexual tension thickened when the talk fell upon our fantasy sex life. The thought ‘We’re sexually compatible’ haunted my mind in that moment, driving me nuts and it was first when he came over and put down his camera on the bed, that I realized I was finally going to have sex with him, after two long years of regrets.
With no consideration to my boyfriend, or the child we are having, I willingly let him drag me into position by my ankles on the edge of the bed. The sound of a zipper tearing down its ragged teeth and a pair of jeans being kicked off, filled me with needy anticipation. Feeling the pressure of masculine hands latching its fingers around my hips, pinning my naked body to the sheets of the bed at his temporary room at the Airbnb, I let out a soft gasp. An even bigger one followed as he entered me, filling up my lustful void with the stiffness of his cock.
“Oh Jack” I heard myself moan out, as my breasts started bouncing up and down my chest in the same rhythm as his thrusts. Bit by bit, thrust by thrust, we ended up in the classic position of a married couple, the missionary, feeling the weight of his fit masculine body mounting me like a prized mare. Pulling my hair, slapping my ass and choking me, Jack did everything right, treated me in bed like I had always wanted from him. I came fast, and so did he, and we succumbed on the bed together. No words needed to be said, we both knew it, we fucked up our chances of a life together, and only got a taste of what it could have been, for a few intense moments in bed together.
I left him sleeping, knowing he would soon have to catch his flight back to Jersey, and I couldn’t bring myself stay to say goodbye. ‘Big girls don’t cry’ as Fergie said… fuck I hate that song.
