He Showed Up Without Warning and We Ended Up Against the Hallway Wall

Hello again, darlings.

I know I’ve been neglecting you, I admit it. Between work and exhaustion, routine devours creativity… though never the desire to keep feeding these passions that consume us all here.

I’m telling you why I’m back just today. My partner made a request that left me thinking. He wants a photo of me, from behind, my entire ass bare, spread wide open so everything can be seen. In his exact words: he wants to look at it when I’m not around, pull out his cock, and jerk off thinking about how he fucked me the last time. And here I am, going over it in my head, wondering what you think. Should I send it to him, or make him suffer a little longer with a hard cock he can’t touch?

Because the truth is that he’s completely obsessed with that part of my body. He says my ass squeezes his cock like nothing else, that when he stuffs it in my hole he feels like he’s about to come in two minutes and has to hold back by biting down. And I, who’m more into taking it slow, have to confess that I like having him put it there too. More than I’d care to admit out loud.

And so you understand where that damn request came from, let me tell you what happened the last time. Because that last time was quick, urgent, almost without even taking our clothes off, with his cock out in the hallway and me biting my hand so I wouldn’t scream. One of those encounters that stay burned between your legs forever.

***

It was an ordinary weekday. I had just gotten home from work, melted. In this city summer shows no mercy, and the only thing you want when you walk through the door is to get rid of everything as fast as possible. Taking off my shoes, my blouse, my pants while the air conditioning starts winning against the oppressive heat is one of the few glories I’ve got left in July.

I stayed like that for a while, in my underwear and a top, sprawled on the bed, letting the cold dry the sweat off my back. I’m not talking about horniness yet, mind you. I’m talking about that pure relief of feeling your body cool down after a long day. To me, that’s one of the possible heavens.

Then I put on an old cotton T-shirt and a loose little house short, one of those with elastic at the waist that almost look like a skirt. I ate whatever standing up, in front of the fridge, and since I was carrying one of those heavy sleeps, I decided to steal half an hour from the afternoon before getting to my pending tasks.

I love sleeping. It’s never enough, never sufficient. So I take advantage of every little bit life gives me as if it were the last.

I don’t know how much time passed. What I do know is that knocks on the door yanked me out of sleep. I stayed still for a few seconds, confused. I almost never get surprise visits, and I wasn’t expecting any package. Who the fuck could it be at this hour?, I thought, still with the pillow mark on my cheek.

I got up reluctantly, adjusted my shorts, and shuffled to the entrance.

The last person I imagined was the one I found on the other side. And if I’m completely honest with you, my mouth went dry and my cunt got wet in the very same second. My God. It was exactly like those scenes in the filthy novels I love reading on the sly.

This man undoes me. Seeing him there, standing, with that brown skin, those worn jeans outlining the bulge, a white T-shirt and a cap pushed back. That half-smile he wears when he already knows he’s going to fuck me. For a moment I wondered whether I was still asleep and all of it was part of a dream too good to be real.

—Did I wake you? —he said, leaning against the doorframe.

—A little —I admitted, feeling the heat rise up my neck and go straight down between my legs—. Come in.

We greeted each other with a hug, one of those long ones where the body understands things before the mind does. I felt his hard cock against my belly through his jeans, and he squeezed my ass with both hands as if it already belonged to him. The conversation was short. Barely four scattered sentences, questions without real answers, because neither of us was there to talk.

I knew it the moment I met his gaze. He came with a crystal-clear intention, written in his eyes. He came hungry, and I was the meal.

***

I have to confess something that embarrasses me a little. I go crazy for that strength they have, the ease with which a man can handle you, turn you, bend you, and fuck you if he puts his mind to it. And I’m not exactly a feather. I’m not thin, I’ve got my curves, and even so he moves me however he wants, like it’s nothing. That, I swear, gets my panties wet in a way I can’t explain.

I’m turned on by that difference in strength, by feeling control give way without anyone forcing it. And let me be clear, because this matters: I’m talking about something between two adults who want each other and said yes. I’m not interested in anything else.

He sat down in one of the dining room chairs, legs spread and the bulge very pronounced under his jeans. I stayed standing beside him, and from down there he lifted his head to look at me. He took my hips with both hands and pulled me toward him, without hurry but without permission. He buried his face right in the vee of my thighs, against the fabric of my shorts, and breathed deeply over my cunt, as if he wanted to get my scent inside him.

—You’re already hot, aren’t you? —he murmured, and I felt the vibration of his voice straight on my clit.

I didn’t answer. There was no need. The damp patch on the cotton spoke for me.

Then he looked up into my eyes. Without taking his gaze off mine, he slid one hand down and tugged one side of my shorts lower. The elastic gave way without resistance, as if it had almost been made for that moment. And he pressed his mouth to the skin he had just uncovered, biting slowly at the curve where my ass begins.

I jerked back instinctively. I hadn’t showered yet, I had the whole day on me, the summer sweat stuck between my legs, and I told him half-heartedly, embarrassed. But today he didn’t care about any of that. Quite the opposite.

—That’s how I like you better —he murmured against my skin—. All sweaty, with your cunt already smelling like you were waiting for me.

He pulled my shorts down all the way to my ankles and left me standing in front of him in soaked panties. He ran two fingers over the fabric, pressing the slit, and felt the cotton dripping. He brought his fingers to his mouth and sucked them slowly, staring at me. Then he made me open my legs, moved my panties aside, and put his tongue right there, seated in the chair, his hands squeezing my cheeks so I couldn’t get away.

I grabbed his cap, his shoulders, whatever I could. His tongue moved over me from bottom to top, going in, pulling out, stopping on my clit with firm pressure, without rushing. He licked me like he’d been thirsty for months. I felt him groan against my cunt, and that vibration tore a shudder through my legs that almost made me collapse on top of him.

His hands started moving up my body, slow, taking in everything. When they reached my breasts and he discovered I wasn’t wearing absolutely anything under the T-shirt, I saw his eyes light up. As if he’d just found a half-wrapped gift and couldn’t wait to open it.

He yanked my shirt up in one motion until my tits were bare. He smiled. Took one nipple in his mouth, sucked hard, bit it lightly, and with the other hand he squeezed my other breast until I was moaning out loud. Feeling his tongue there, and at the same time two of his fingers sliding slowly into my soaked cunt, completely undid me. I felt myself dripping more down below, that warm wetness between my legs that always gives me away, no matter how hard I try to hide it.

—You’re a filthy little whore —he whispered against my nipple, his fingers going in and out, making wet sounds—. Look at you, soaking my hand.

I could only nod, biting my lip, my hips moving on their own over his fingers.

***

He stood up without letting go of me, his jeans already unbuttoned and his cock coming out thick, the tip red, glistening from all the leaking. He guided me toward the hallway, that narrow stretch between the living room and the bedrooms. I tried to slow things down a little, I confess. We were supposed to avoid fucking from the front on those days, for my own reasons, and I tried to let him know between kisses.

—Wait, we can’t… not the usual way —I managed to say, my hand closed around his cock over his underwear.

But he and I had already explored other paths. He turned me gently but firmly, with my back to him, and came close to my ear. I felt his breath before his words, and the tip of his bare cock pressed right at the crack of my ass.

—What about your ass? —he whispered—. Let me put it in there. I’m going to slide it in slow, all the way to the bottom.

The hair on the back of my neck stood on end. I closed my eyes for a second, thought about it for half a second longer than I should have, and said yes. I said it with a hoarse voice, pushing my ass back so he could feel I wanted it.

He ripped my panties off in one pull. He spat twice into his hand and coated his whole cock with it, then he spit on me, right on my hole, and spread the saliva with his thumb, pressing it against the opening. I was trembling all over. He slid one finger in first, all the way to the knuckle, and moved it in circles to loosen me up. Then two. He pulled them out and pushed them back in while his other hand pinched one nipple and he whispered filthy things in my ear.

—What a tight ass you’ve got, my love. Your cunt’s going to be dripping when I put my cock in you.

There, holding on to the corner of the wall, with desire taking over both of us, we spent the most delicious minutes I remember in a long time. Between kisses on the nape of my neck, quick caresses, and my ragged breathing, he started going in little by little. I was soaked, my cunt was literally dripping down my thighs, but even so it was hard at first. My body resisted and surrendered at the same time, my ass ring tightening around the head of his cock as if it had a life of its own.

He kept working it in patiently, first just the tip, sinking in and pulling back only slightly, gaining ground millimeter by millimeter. I felt that strange, exquisite tingling that only appears when someone fucks you in the ass. A mix of pressure, modesty, warm burning, and pure pleasure that feels like nothing else. Every time he pushed a little deeper, a sharper moan escaped me, and he covered my mouth with his hand and told me in my ear to hold on, that he was getting in, that it was almost there.

I adjusted my hips, found the angle, arched my back and offered him my ass spread open, and let him move forward. When he finally got all the way in, when I felt his balls slap against my cunt, I couldn’t hold back the moans anymore. I leaned forward, pressed my forehead and palms against the wall, lifted my ass toward him, silently asking him not to hold back. And he didn’t.

He fucked me hard, each thrust deeper, each one faster. I pressed my palm against the wall so I wouldn’t lose my balance, and with my other hand I slipped two fingers into my cunt to rub my clit to the rhythm of his thrusts. I was so wet it made noise, an obscene slapping sound mixed with the dull удар of his hips against my ass. My moans mixed with his, rough, against my back.

—Like that, like that, harder —I begged, not recognizing my own voice—. Rip my ass open, fuck me hard.

—You’re such a whore —he gasped, grabbing my hair with one hand and my hip with the other—. Look at you squeezing my cock with that little ass.

There was no bed, no romance, no long prelude. Just the two of us standing in a hallway, desperate, fucking like animals, unable to wait. He drove into me without restraint and I rubbed my cunt with three fingers, feeling everything gather low in my belly, ready to explode.

I came first. A long, filthy orgasm that made me squeeze his cock with my ass so hard he let out a strangled groan and sank his teeth into my shoulder. I felt my own cunt gush over my fingers, soaking my hand and thighs. And then he lost control. Two, three more thrusts, deep ones, and he came inside. I love feeling him come, that moment when he tightens all over, and I felt every lash of his cock emptying his hot load deep in my ass.

We stayed like that for a while, him still inside, holding me around the waist, his fingers idly playing with my hard nipples, the two of us trying to catch our breath against the wall. When he finally pulled his cock out, I felt a warm thread slide down my thigh, his cum escaping from me, and I didn’t know whether I was embarrassed or even hotter for it.

***

When we finally separated and went to clean up, we realized there had been a little blood mixed in with his load. And here comes the strange part: at no point did I feel like he hurt me. No pain, no discomfort, nothing. I don’t know if it was the arousal, the urgency, or both together, but I swear it didn’t hurt at all. Just pleasure, the good kind, the kind that leaves your legs shaking half an hour later.

I’d gladly repeat a meeting like that, without thinking twice. In fact, just remembering it while I write this, with my hand inside my pants, I can feel that treacherous little tingle in my clit again.

And from there, from that afternoon exactly, came the damn photo request. He wants to take with him a souvenir of the ass that squeezed his cock so deliciously in that hallway, something to look at and jerk off to when I’m not there.

So there I leave it, darlings. The question is still hanging in the air. Do I send him the ass photo, or make him wait a little longer with a hard cock?

You tell me. A huge kiss and we’ll read each other soon.