2. Running into the Ex

Transcript

I hear from Ray on Christmas Day. He sends me a text message saying Merry Christmas with a kiss at the end. I reply with three Christmas tree emojis and a kiss.

He knows how the day works at my family's house, so in the period between eating dinner and late night snacking he phones me. When his name comes up on my screen I get such a jolt of excitement. All I've been able to think about is last night.

His kiss. His noises. His dick.

We talk for about an hour and a half. He tells me how turned on he gets whenever he remembers what we did. He tells me that thinking about my mouth around his dick is making him hard.

I tell him how much I want him to fuck me. How I can't wait for him to fill me up. His breathing gets laboured.

He's jerking off. I lie back on my bed and touch myself, rubbing my clit and listening to him pant until I come quickly and hard, muffling my moans. He finishes soon after, grunting with each spurt and swearing under his breath when he does.

Come round tomorrow? I agree. He has his own place here.

A small house near the street where he grew up. He bought it after we split up and moved out of the flat we shared. I'm glad he's moved on from the dingy old apartment.

This is a bright new place. Ideal for making bright new memories. He says something about fixing a curry as I wander around his place.

His tree is up in the window with multi-coloured lights twinkling and there are snowmen and Santa ornaments I know he's had since childhood taking pride of place on the mantelpiece. It smells warm and comforting, like cinnamon, oranges and red wine. He nips to the kitchen, returning with a cold bottle of champagne.

It's a tradition for me. My family always drink champagne on Boxing Day. It's the one piece of Christmas extravaganza I actually enjoy.

When he pops the cork, the bubbles spill over the end and he holds the bottle to my mouth. I lap the rim, well aware of how sexual this is, and make eye contact with him as I lick seductively up the side of the bottleneck. He chews his lip and I wonder if he's a little bit hard.

When he goes to grab some glasses, I follow him, but meet him in the doorway coming back through. He looks up and, confused, I follow his gaze. There's some mistletoe hanging just above our heads.

Hooray! This is so cheesy. Suddenly he's kissing me.

His free hand is in my hair and I grasp his broad shoulders, marvelling at how he can still make me weak with just a kiss. My stomach is fizzing and my pussy is throbbing already. Still kissing, he leads me to the sofa, then pulls away and pours us both glasses.

He holds his up, instead of drinking from his own glass, he interlinks his arm with mine, then bends toward me to sip from my glass. I do the same to him, but the champagne trickles down my neck and splashes onto my cleavage. He looks at me, then down at my tits.

He nuzzles his face in my chest, licking the bubbles away. It makes me squirm and laugh, but it's the kind of intimacy that used to be an everyday occurrence with us, and it really, really turns me on. We sit and sip and catch up on the previous day.

He tells me the usual stories about his curmudgeously grandfather, and we talk about watching the same films at the same time, just in different places. The curry is cooking in the kitchen, the smell of cloves and cumin drifting through gives the room a lovely domestic feel. You remember last Christmas? How could I forget? We'd spent it at his parents' house, just a ten minute walk from here.

In his childhood bedroom, we'd squeezed into a single bed and messed around. My view was a poster of the Athena tennis girl. As Ray went down on me with a passion and vigour I knew came from the fact we were mere feet from his parents.

He'd bought us a partner vibrator that sat between us and pulsed us to long, loud but muffled orgasms. We spent the rest of the night giggling and kissing. The next morning, his brother smirked at us and said, you know we all heard you, right? Well, nobody will hear us this year, at least.

That's not the spirit. I hope we wake up your neighbours. Oh, game on.

He growls, setting his glass down and rounding on me, nuzzling my neck and pinning me along the sofa. I'm gonna make you scream. He promises, as his hands undo buttons and zips until I'm out of my dress.

I'm wearing my favourite lingerie, a red lace basque connected to stockings with a tiny red thong. I feel like a goddess, and he looks at me accordingly with pure lust in his eyes. Jesus Christ, Alicia.

His hoarse tone has always turned me on, and my pussy responds. I'm already wet and slide my fingers between my thighs to touch myself through the lace fabric. He watches and nods, letting me swirl my fingers and thumbs over my lips before leaning into me and burrowing his head between my breasts.

He exhales with pleasure and kisses me along the curve of each breast, then moves each cup of basque away to lick and suck each nipple in turn, coaxing them into hard little nubs. As he does this, he is grinding against me. I can feel his erection taut in his jeans, so I run my hand up and along his thigh.

I find the bulge and stroke it through the denim, making him moan. He lifts his hips and I unbutton and unzip and take his long, hard dick in my hand. I stroke him as he continues to kiss my breasts, then up to my neck where he sucks, bites, and murmurs into my skin.

His hands skim my body, pausing to rest on my hips, then my thighs, then they trail back up to play with the edge of my thong. He catches my eye and smirks, then moves down my body until he's face level with my pussy. He grabs a small string of fabric at each side with his teeth and tears it from me, pulls it down my thighs, and then burrows his head between my legs.

He plays with my pussy lips with his tongue, gently sucking and nuzzling, then slides a couple of fingers inside me. As he moves in and out, his lips suction around my clit. If I wasn't wet already, I am now.

He keeps a steady, breathtaking rhythm on my clit, and I can feel myself dripping, mixing with his saliva as it runs down my thigh. He pulls away to circle the hood with his mouth, taking the intensity off for a second. I can only lie back and moan as the pressure starts to build.

I feel myself anticipating each circle of his tongue, and my pussy pulses with the need to be touched. He's making me ache deep inside, and I want him to hurry up and fuck me. It's as though he can read my mind, because at this precise moment he pulls away and roughly flips me over.

When I'm steady on my hands and knees, he spits on his cock and slides into the hilt. We exhale simultaneous moans as he pauses there for a second, him throbbing, me convulsing around him, feeling stretched and full. He grabs my shoulder and starts thrusting, taking it very slow at first so I can feel every inch of him.

I squeeze around him each time he fills me back up. Soon, his strokes are faster and I'm panting with each one, because he hits my G spot spot on every single time. It's as though his dick was moulded for my body.

I've forgotten how good this could be. Each time he drives into me, the heat of impending orgasm mounts and mounts and mounts. My legs are shaking and my back arches uncontrollably.

Ray's hand lands at my pussy, his fingers wet with spit, and he matches rubbing my clit to the rhythm of his fucking. I feel almost nothing but static and pleasure, and I'm going to lose it soon. The combination of his thick cock hitting the spot again and again with his fingers building up a wave of tension makes me want to laugh with how amazing it feels.

But when I open my mouth, it's nothing but a series of horse arse arse. Then he hits the absolute peak. I am on fire, just sparks flying from my pussy.

He pauses and the heat grows and grows. He strokes once more and I nearly scream. It's a raw, nearly painful movement that passes suddenly when his hands and dick come together once again to push me over the edge.

Then I'm coming, dissolving into a mess of power and pleasure, convulsing around his dick and writhing against his body. He gives a strangled cry, and I feel him buck once and twice, and he feels my pussy hard and fast. I feel it leaking out before his orgasm is over.

Sweat falls on my back before he collapses onto me, and my cunt continues to twitch around him. When he catches his breath, he murmurs, I think the curry's burned. It's fine, we'll order pizza.