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The Man That Got Away

by Melissa Lenox 22 days ago in relationships / erotic
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Reconnecting with my first love

The Man That Got Away
Photo by Kelly Sikkema on Unsplash

When getting ready to meet, you must remove everything that makes you, you. That's what I remembered. I was getting ready to meet him. We ended up working an event together. Feelings arose. Looks were exchanged. The last day we almost ended up doing it in the janitor's closet. But just before he was about to get inside me, he said " No. I can't. Not here."

" You can't?" I asked, " You can't-" I thought he meant he couldn't get it up.

" No!" He said, " I mean I don't want it to happen this way. Let's meet somewhere."

So, three weeks later I booked a room at a Holiday Inn in midtown. I was in my bathroom putting myself together. As I went to do my usual spritz of perfume, I stopped myself. I couldn't have any trace of myself on him. No perfume, no lipstick, and no jewelry. Nothing that said " Melissa" could be on him.

It was a day use room and I put it on my credit card. It was definitely an upgrade from the last place we were in. I had it from 9-4. I arrived and checked in at 9:30. He would arrive at 10:30. He needed to be somewhere at 3. I could have almost five hours with him. I missed him.

Even though I wasn't a virgin this time, I felt the same way as I felt two years ago meeting him for the first time. My stomach was in knots. My hands were shaking. My heart racing. Why? It was because now, I was also cheating on someone.

Yes, I had a new boyfriend. It had only been a couple of months but he was wonderful. Kind and thoughtful. Generous beyond belief. Worshipped me. I felt awful. I certainly didn't love him yet. But I knew he was someone I could.

The hour before he arrived felt like forever. I tried to distract myself. I put the morning news on the TV. Threw some sad love songs on. Then, I heard a knock at the door. He was here.

I stood up and walked to the door, took a deep breath, turned the handle, and opened the door.

There he was. All six feet of him. His thick head of hair wasn't done. It was wild(like him). I didn't smell his usual colonge. He was wearing a grey wool coat. And his eyes were shining.

"Hey you."

That was what he always said. It was our little thing. I stepped to the side and let him come in.

" This is nice."

I laughed, " Certainly better than the last place."

I watched him take his coat off. Then his shoes and socks. My nervousness went away.

He looked over to me, " Come here."

I walked over. Our faces were inches apart. But we were just staring at each other. His eyes were dark, but they had a fire in them. Soul. Passion. That's what I missed most. The passion. The way he made love to me wasn't like the other men I'd been with. Sure there were times where it was just sex. But there were moments when it was real love making.

He gave me the softest, most tender kiss I'd ever recieved. He put his hands on my upper back. I wrapped my arms around his neck. He did something he did the very first time he kissed me: he took both his hands and put them just underneath my collarbone. He pressed down and moved his hands out towards my shoulders.

He’s the only person I’ve known to do that. Something about it was calming. It was the pressure I think. The kissing was still soft and sweet. The heat hadn't kicked in yet.

But then, it did. He pressed his mouth to mine. His hands moved lower down my back. I grabbed a handful of his gorgeous tresses. He started to undo my belt. I began to lift his shirt off. He pulled my pants off. The moment would have been so perfect, had my pants not gotten caught on my ankles. Making the seamless "taking off of the pants" more like an " opening a jammed door".

Once they were off he said, " Take everything off."

I turned around to take off my shirt, bra, and underwear. When I turned back around, he was in the bed under the covers. I smiled. It was a sight I hadn't seen with him in a while.

I crawled in next to him. We were in an actual bed. Under covers. We had pillows. It wasn’t an office desk or a janitor’s closet. It was real.

He held me as he kissed me. His arms were still the ones I felt safest in. His naked body against mine sent chills through every inch of my being. I can’t describe the way this man makes me feel. But that’s when you know isn’t it? When you can’t find the words…

He pulled me on top of him. I began riding him. Both his hands were on my breasts. I forgot about the outside world. I let myself go. Something I rarely did.

Next thing I knew I was on my back. He was kissing my neck, moved down to my breasts, stomach, then hit that sweet spot.

He hadn’t gone down on me since our first time. Christ it was even better than the first time.

After doing it every which way and I had the best orgasm of my life, he finished. Still inside me, he looked deep into my eyes. I brush his unruly hair out of his face.

“ I missed you.” I said.

“ Me too love,” he answered, “ After we were done working together, I’d never thought I’d see you again.”

“ Why?”

“ I thought you’d be running off to another event like you always do.”

It was true. I was always hustling. Running around. Taking every plane, train, and automobile for work.

Once we cleaned up a little bit, we just laid in bed together. Sitting up. I was in the crook of him arms. Head on his shoulder. His head was on mine. We were playing with each other’s hands.

“ So, you’re seeing someone?” He asked.

“ Yeah, I am.”

“ He’s a good guy?”

“ Very good.”

“ I’m glad.”

“ But he’s not you.”

He looked down at me, “ Oh Mel…”

We started to kiss again. And it was only kissing. Then he held me for the longest time. Shit, I was never going to get over him. I knew it right there. I’ll always love him.

Before I knew it, it was time for him to leave.

I grabbed him around his waist, “ Don’t go.”

He lifted my chin up, “ Believe me, I don’t want to.”

I watched him get dressed. I was still naked tangled in the covers. I didn’t know when I was going to see him again. Or even if I was going to. Would we start it up again? A part of me wanted it to. There would be more at stake now. This time I also had someone.

Once he was dressed, he looked at me and sighed, “ I guess I’ll go.”

I stood up and let the sheet fall off of me, “ You don’t have to…”

I thought that he would throw his coat off and have me right there, but he didn’t.

“ No really, I have to.”

I picked up the sheet off the floor and wrapped it around me again, “ Ok.”

He took a step towards me and kissed me. A sweet one. Then he kissed my forehead. I always loved it when he did that.

I followed him as he made his way to the door. He opened it and turned back around to me, “ Melissa?”

I was hoping he was gonna come back in. Or say something about us.

“Yes?”

“ Be happy.”

I smiled, “ I will.”

And with that, he left. I stared at the door for the longest time. “Be happy”. That was his way of saying “goodbye”.

I didn’t cry. I wasn’t upset. I felt absolutely fine.

A little while later, I got dressed. As I grabbed my phone to leave, something possessed me to text him:

Love you. Always will.

While I was on the train, he answered:

Me too.

relationshipserotic

About the author

Melissa Lenox

Just a gal living her life to the fullest in NYC.

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