This story was automatically created with AI assistance. All persons are of legal age. 18+.
I stood at the window of my penthouse in Mitte, the warm evening breeze stroking my bare skin under the thin silk dress. The setting sun bathed Berlin in golden light, but I felt none of the peace this view usually brought me. Instead, a craving throbbed between my legs, a wet, urgent feeling that hadn’t left me all day. I pressed my thighs together and felt my pussy already pressing against the thin fabric of my panties, wet and ready. My publishing house was running better than ever, the books were selling like hotcakes, and I had money to burn. But that wasn’t what I needed. I needed something that would push me to my limits, that would let me feel what it was like to lose control and just let go. I needed a hard, thick cock inside me, deep inside, until I couldn’t think anymore.
I thought about the yoga retreat a few months ago. It had triggered something in me, a longing for deeper connection, for a merging of body and mind. But at this moment, it wasn’t spiritual enlightenment driving me. It was the image of him that appeared in my head, of his hard body and the hands that had known me so well back then. Suddenly I heard a knock at the door. My heartbeat stopped for a moment. I knew who it was. I had called him an hour ago, without really knowing what I would say. But when I heard his voice, I knew I wanted him here, in my penthouse, in my bed. He was in his mid-thirties now, still that author with the piercing eyes and the smile that made me weak every time. I was in my mid-forties, but the chemistry between us had never faded. I went to the door, opened it, and saw him standing there. His eyes lit up, and his smile was as seductive as ever. He wore a simple shirt that stretched over his broad shoulders, and I could sense the muscles underneath.
“Come in,” I said, and my voice sounded hoarse with desire. He stepped inside, and I closed the door behind him. We stood facing each other in the living room, the setting sun casting long shadows. He started talking about his new book, a novel about love and loss, but I barely listened. I only saw his lips, how they moved, and I felt the desire growing stronger inside me. My nipples hardened under the thin fabric of my dress, and I felt my pussy getting even wetter. I couldn’t wait any longer. I stood up, walked slowly towards him, and looked him straight in the eye. “Stop talking,” I whispered. “I want you. Now.”
I took his hand and pulled him to me. He came towards me, and our lips met in a kiss that made everything else disappear. It wasn’t a gentle kiss. It was a hungry, demanding kiss, full of unfulfilled lust. His tongue entered my mouth, and I felt my whole body react. My breasts lifted under my dress, and I pressed my belly against his. I felt his hard cock pressing against his pants. I reached down and ran my hand over the bulge. He groaned softly into my mouth, and the sound made me even hornier. “I want to feel it,” I murmured against his lips. “I want your thick cock inside me.”
I pulled him to the bed, a huge, white bed that stood in the middle of the room. The sheets were fresh and soft. I let myself fall backwards onto it, and he came over me. His body covered me, his weight was just right. I felt his heat through the fabric. He kissed me again, deeper this time, while his hands wandered over my body. He grabbed the hem of my dress and slowly pulled it up. I lifted my ass to help him. The dress flew to the side, and I lay there only in my thin, black panties and a bra that barely hid anything. My tits were firm and round, my nipples hard and erect. He bent down and took one of them in his mouth. I moaned loudly and arched my back. His tongue played around my hard tip, licking and sucking on it until I thought I would explode. I buried my fingers in his hair and pressed his head tighter against my chest. “Yes, just like that,” I panted. “Suck my tits, make me horny.”
He switched to the other breast and gave it the same treatment, while his hand wandered down over my belly. He pushed his fingers under the edge of my panties and stroked over my wet labia. I flinched as he touched them. “You’re already so wet,” he whispered hoarsely. “You want it, don’t you?” I nodded, unable to speak. His fingers glided over my slit, dipped into my wet pussy, and collected my juices. Then he pushed a finger inside. I moaned loudly and clawed at the sheets. He fingered me slowly, deeply, and I felt everything inside me tighten. “Yes, fuck me with your fingers,” I moaned. “Get me ready for your thick cock.”
He laughed softly and pulled his fingers out. Then he grabbed my panties and pulled them off me in one smooth motion. I lay naked before him, my legs slightly open, my pussy glistening with wetness. He looked at me, and I saw the greed in his eyes. He stood up and pulled off his shirt. His chest was broad and muscular, with a fine line of hair trailing down his belly. Then he opened his belt and let his pants fall. His cock sprang out, long and thick, the head red and shiny with excitement. He was just as I remembered him. I licked my lips. “Come here,” I said softly. “I want to taste it.”
He stepped closer, and I sat on the edge of the bed. I took his cock in my hand and guided the head to my lips. I licked the tip, and he hissed softly. The taste was salty and male, and I felt my pussy get even wetter. I opened my mouth and took him deep inside. I felt him press against my palate, and I began to suck, slowly and deeply. He moaned loudly and grabbed my hair. “Yes, make me horny with your mouth,” he panted. “Lick my cock, you horny slut.”
I took him deeper and deeper, until he was at the back of my throat. I felt my throat adjust, how I gagged on him and still kept going. Tears welled up in my eyes, but I didn’t stop. I wanted to feel him, every inch of him. He groaned and thrust
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