A Mature Woman Crossed Three Provinces for Her Young Lover

The office where I worked mornings closed down, and I was left with nothing. I looked for work for weeks in my city, then in the surrounding towns, and finally I had to expand the radius to places where I had never even considered moving. The only serious offer was far away, and since the rents in the center were impossible, I ended up renting in a cheap town half an hour from Burgos.

I was so wrapped up in the move, so busy with boxes and forms, that I barely told anyone. I made the move almost in silence, as if I wanted to start over from scratch. And starting over, without knowing it, meant leaving behind the one thing I was truly going to miss.

I discovered it on the first day, unpacking in the new apartment. I couldn’t find my phone. I looked everywhere, under the furniture, inside the bags, in the car. Nothing. I had to go to the phone company to cancel the line so they wouldn’t charge me for someone else’s usage and, while I was there, I signed up for a new number.

The problem came afterward. I had an old notebook with phone numbers written down by hand, and I transferred them one by one into the new phone’s contacts. All except his. Adrián’s wasn’t anywhere.

I’ve lost him. I’ve lost my boy and I didn’t even say goodbye.

Adrián and I had had a clear agreement from the start: just fucking, no promises, no labels. I was a few years older than him and, far from making us uncomfortable, that was part of the game. We saw each other three or four times a week, depending on how horny we were, and almost always he was the one who wanted more cock inside me. Losing him like that, because of a stupid oversight, left a strange emptiness in my chest and another, more tangible one, between my legs.

Months passed. I got used to the town, the job, the long afternoons. But some nights the memory returned with force, and I ended up with two fingers buried in my pussy, imagining his cock opening me up, remembering his voice, his hands, the way he gave me orders in a low voice while he fucked me. I masturbated thinking about how he grabbed my hair to push his cock into my mouth, the taste of his cum, the weight of his balls against my ass when he pounded me from behind. I came biting the pillow and fell asleep with sticky fingers and a mixture of pleasure and nostalgia.

***

Half a year later, while tidying another one of my notebooks, I found an old email account written down, along with its password. I had used it so little that I had nearly forgotten it. I tried my luck, more out of curiosity than hope, and it was still active.

Among dozens of old messages was one I hadn’t expected: an email from a mutual friend telling me that Adrián had been asking about me for months, that he didn’t understand my disappearance, and that if I ever read it, I should write to him. My pulse quickened. I replied that very night, my hands clumsy over the keyboard.

Two days later I heard his voice again in an audio message, and I swear my knees went weak and my panties suddenly grew wet. That deep, teasing, confident voice. It’s still him. He still wants to fuck me like before. We talked for hours, slipping back into our usual tone, and within a couple of weeks we already had a plan.

Adrián didn’t have a car, so I would be the one driving to Valladolid, where he lived. I would stay at his house for the whole weekend. Just thinking about it made my legs tremble and my pussy clench emptily. I told him one thing before hanging up:

—I want it to be like the last times. I want to feel desired. And dominated. I want you to fuck me until I can’t walk.

He chuckled softly on the other end.

—Consider it done. You’re going to finish the weekend with your pussy wrecked and your mouth full of my milk.

***

Friday dawned with me burning. From first thing in the morning I began writing to him, just as we had when we lived in the same city and counted the hours until we could see each other. I sent him pictures of my tits peeking out of my bra, the inside of my thighs, audio messages of me breathing hard, and increasingly filthy texts telling him how I planned to spread my legs the moment I entered his house. He answered with the same intensity, and when I received one of his messages describing in detail how he was going to fuck my mouth until he made my mascara run, how he would put me on my knees and cover my face with cum, I couldn’t hold out. I locked myself in the bedroom, lay down naked, spat on my fingers, and took them to my clit. I listened to that audio over and over, describing his cock inside my pussy while I bit my nipples, and came with two fingers buried to the knuckle, soaking the sheet.

At five in the afternoon I finally got in the car and set off. Halfway there I resumed messaging him, telling him where I was and how horny I was, that my panties were already sticking to my pussy because I had been wet all day. I told him I was wearing the blue strappy dress I had worn when he met me. His reply came quickly:

—I want you to arrive wearing only the dress. Nothing underneath. No panties and no bra. I want to be able to fuck you in the elevator if I feel like it.

I read that at a traffic light and felt my face burn. I told him that if that was what he wanted, that was how I would arrive. At the first rest area I stopped, got out of the car, and, hidden between two vans, began taking off my underwear. It was damp from thinking about him so much, with a dark stain marking the crotch. But just then a truck pulled in, and I hurriedly pulled it back on, mortified, not knowing whether the driver had seen anything. I started up again, this time with my panties still on and my heart pounding.

It was after seven when I reached Valladolid. I parked near his building, took out the small suitcase containing just enough for the weekend, and walked down the street on shaky legs. I pressed the intercom, and he didn’t even have to think about it.

—Yes? —he said only that, but his voice went straight through me.

—Hi, my boy. I’m here.

He buzzed me in without another word.

***

I took the elevator up to the second floor, and when the doors opened, the apartment door was ajar. I couldn’t see him, but I could make out his silhouette behind it. I went in, dragging my suitcase, and when I turned to close the door, I found him leaning against the wall, completely naked, his cock already half-hard, hanging between his thighs.

I brought my free hand to my mouth.

—My God, what a blessing —I blurted out, unable to take my eyes off his cock—. I’d forgotten how big you are.

He closed the door, came toward me slowly, and wrapped his arms around me.

—I’ve been dying to shove it all the way inside you again —he murmured against my hair.

—And I’ve been dying to have it inside me —I managed to say before his mouth closed over mine.

He kissed me as if he wanted to make up for the six lost months in a single kiss, thrusting his tongue down my throat. One hand moved over my back; the other took my suitcase and dropped it to the side. He pulled away for barely a second and took my hand, guiding it directly to his cock, now completely erect and throbbing.

—Look what you’ve done to me already —he said, closing my fingers around the hot shaft.

—It’s hard as a rock —I answered in a thread of a voice, squeezing my fist and feeling it pulse.

I began stroking him slowly, moving my hand up and down until a drop of pre-cum wet my thumb. Without thinking, I brought it to my mouth, looking him in the eyes, and he growled something under his breath. He grabbed me hard and lifted me a few inches off the floor while kissing me again. Before I knew it, my back was against the wall in the entryway. He lowered me again, held my chin, and looked me in the eyes.

—Are you ready for what’s coming? Because you’re not going to get any rest this weekend.

I could only answer with a muffled moan. His hands slid beneath my dress, traveled up my thighs, and suddenly stopped when they encountered the elastic of my panties. He smiled crookedly.

—You’ve been a bad girl. You came here wearing your panties. That’s unforgivable.

I turned red with embarrassment and arousal at the same time. He pulled the dress over my head in one motion and left me standing against the wall wearing only the underwear he had forbidden and with my nipples already hard, standing out in the air. He looked me up and down without hurrying, enjoying my discomfort. He crouched and tore my panties off my ankles, brought them to his face, and inhaled deeply.

—You’re soaked, you slut. Thinking about my cock the whole trip, weren’t you?

—Yes —I whispered.

—Yes, what?

—Yes, my boy. Thinking about your cock the whole trip.

Then he turned me to face the wall and placed my open hands against the cold plaster. He spread my legs with his knee and pushed my ass back.

The first slap made me jump. The second drew a moan. The third left my cheek burning and my pussy dripping. He pressed against my back, his hard cock wedged between my buttocks, put his mouth to my ear, and whispered:

—Let’s begin. And I hope you’re still my hot little whore.

He began kissing my neck, exactly where he knows I melt. One hand rose to my breast and pinched my nipple between two fingers, twisting it until a cry escaped me. The other traveled down my belly and plunged directly between my already-soaked lips. He thrust two fingers in at once and pulled them out glistening.

—Look at you, fuck. You’re leaking.

He brought them to my mouth, and I opened without thinking, sucking them clean while he moved his cock up and down between my buttocks. All I could do was rest my forehead against the wall and breathe unevenly, letting him do as he pleased, my ass pushed back and begging for more.

***

What came next was a whirlwind. Without letting go of me, he dragged me to the bedroom, laid me on my back on the bed, and yanked my legs apart. Before climbing on top, he crouched between my thighs and plunged his tongue into my pussy without warning. I screamed with pleasure as I felt that hot tongue running up and down me, licking my lips, moving up to my clitoris to suck it while two fingers thrust in and out of me with a wet, filthy sound that filled the room.

—You taste exactly the same as six months ago —he said, his mouth still pressed to me—. Like my slut.

He ate my pussy until my legs were trembling on their own and I was about to come. Then he stopped, looked at me with a wicked smile, and climbed up my body, licking my navel and belly, biting one nipple until I arched my back. He positioned himself over me and took his cock in his hand, sliding the head up and down my lips, coating himself in my juices without actually putting it inside me.

—Ask me for it.

—Put it in me, please —I panted—. Put it in me now, I can’t take any more.

—Put what in you?

—Your cock. Put it all the way in, Adrián, I’m begging you.

He entered slowly, looking into my eyes, and I still remember the long, hoarse sigh that escaped me when I felt him inside me completely, inch by inch, until his balls struck my ass. I had missed him so much that I almost wanted to cry from sheer relief. I felt full, open, complete for the first time in half a year.

He began at a slow, almost cruel pace, pulling out until only the tip remained and then sinking back in millimeter by millimeter, making me feel every vein before withdrawing. I dug my nails into his back, begged for more with my hips, arching so he would go deeper, and he laughed at my desperation.

—You wanted it, huh? Tell me how much you wanted it.

—So much —I panted—. You don’t know how much. Fuck me hard, please.

—Like this? —he said, giving me a thrust that tore a cry from me—. Or harder?

—Harder. Harder. Break me.

Then he stopped playing. He pounded me hard, pinning my wrists to the mattress above my head, and the room filled with the sound of our bodies colliding, the headboard striking the wall, and my moans growing higher and higher. He drove his cock all the way in with every thrust, lifting my hips from the mattress and making me slide up it inch by inch until the crown of my head nearly touched the headboard. He released my wrists to grab one leg and place it over his shoulder, opening me wider, and from that angle every thrust hit a spot that made me see white. I came like that, with him inside me, his thumb rubbing my clitoris in time with his thrusts, trembling from head to toe and squeezing my pussy around his cock, unable to contain a cry that was probably heard throughout the entire landing. He lasted a little longer, changing my position, turning me onto my side and grabbing my hair, until with his final thrusts he emptied himself inside me with a long groan and went still, his forehead resting on my shoulder, still inside me, feeling my pussy continue to squeeze his cock in spasms.

When he pulled out, a thread of semen ran down the back of my thigh onto the sheet. We stayed wrapped in each other’s arms, catching our breath and laughing like a couple of kids.

***

Later we decided to have something light for dinner and put on a movie. None of them appealed to us, so Adrián picked a random one and we stretched out on the sofa, my head resting on his chest. We stayed still until roughly halfway through. Then his hand began to play with my breast over the dress I had put back on, searching for my nipple and slowly pinching it until it hardened.

—Hold still and don’t do what you always do —I protested, without much conviction.

He stopped for a while. Ten minutes later his hand returned, this time moving down my belly and slipping between my legs beneath the dress. He stroked my pussy lips, already wet again, while pretending to watch the screen. He inserted one finger, then two, and began moving them calmly, searching for my inner spot. All my heat came rushing back. I didn’t last long. I sat up and faced him.

—Is this what you want? Then get ready.

I slid to the floor between his knees, yanked down his shorts and underwear, and found him already hard, the head swollen with a clear drop emerging from the tip. I collected it with my tongue without taking my eyes off his.

I gripped him firmly at the base and began licking him slowly, running my tongue over his entire length, from his balls to the tip, wetting him with saliva. I ran the flat of my tongue along the underside, sucked one of his balls into my mouth, and went back up to swallow him. I took him in until he hit the back of my throat, then had to pull away coughing, strings of saliva hanging from my mouth. He threw his head back.

—What a mouth you have, fuck —he murmured, tangling his fingers in my hair—. Swallow it all.

He guided my head, setting the pace, thrusting deep, fucking my mouth without care until my eyes watered and I had to pull away to breathe. He looked at my face, dirty with saliva, and smiled.

—You filthy thing. That’s how I like you.

I stood up, took off the dress myself, and straddled him. I grasped his cock, wet with my saliva, and positioned it at my entrance. I lowered myself slowly, feeling it open me inch by inch, and remained still for a few seconds with his entire cock inside me, kissing him while he held me tightly by the hips and squeezed my buttocks.

He was the one who began moving me, lifting me just enough to let me drop back down onto his cock. He sucked my nipples as I moved up and down, bit my neck, and whispered filthy things in my ear. I rode him until I set the pace myself, faster and faster, my hands braced on his chest and my tits bouncing in front of his face, not wanting it ever to end. He put a finger in my mouth for me to suck, then lowered that same hand and found my asshole, gently pressing the tip of his wet finger against it while I continued riding him. The double sensation made me lose my mind. A second orgasm shook my whole body and left me trembling against his chest, my pussy squeezing his cock in waves.

***

Without leaving me, he sat up with me in his arms, showing off the strength that has always undone me, and continued pounding me while standing in the middle of the living room, holding me beneath the ass and letting gravity drop me onto his cock as he sank in until he met resistance. I clung to his neck with my legs wrapped around his waist, feeling him split me open every time he let me fall. Then he carried me to the bedroom and laid me down carefully, resuming the rocking motion on top of me. He fucked me so hard that the bed slammed against the wall, and I felt like a doll at his mercy, my legs spread as wide as possible and my hands gripping the sheet. He put my ankles over his shoulders and drove into me so deeply from there that I screamed, until with one final thrust he spilled inside me for the second time that night and collapsed beside me, his cock still dripping semen mixed with my fluids onto my thigh.

I went out to clean myself for a moment. When I sat on the bidet, his cum ran hot and thick down inside me. When I returned, he was still awake, waiting for me again, ready, his cock once more half-erect over his belly. I didn’t make him wait: I went straight down to prepare him with my mouth before climbing on top of him again. I brought him fully hard with my licks, spat on the head, and rubbed it with my hand until it was stiff as a stick.

This second round was slower, more intimate, full of kisses on the neck and his words in my ear telling me how incredible I was, how tightly I squeezed him, how much he had missed this pussy. He fucked me missionary-style without hurrying, with long, deep thrusts, while I crossed my legs behind him to keep him pressed closer. He finished by putting me on all fours, spreading my buttocks with both hands so he could watch himself enter, and drove into me with a single thrust that drew the moan he always loved from me. In the bedroom, the only sounds were his hips striking my ass, his balls hitting my pussy with every thrust, and my panting.

—Fuck, that feels so good, keep going —I begged—. Don’t stop. Fuck me, fuck me like that.

—You like me fucking you like a bitch?

—Yes, I love it. Wreck my pussy.

He slapped my right cheek hard, then the left, until they were marked and burning. He grabbed my hair and pulled my head back to arch me farther, increasing the pace until his thrusts were no longer distinguishable. I reached an orgasm that left me collapsing onto the mattress, my face buried in the pillow and my ass still in the air. He lasted a few seconds longer, holding me by the hips to keep me in position, until he emptied himself again with a long groan. He pulled out slowly, and I watched a thick stream of semen run from my open pussy onto the sheet. Exhausted, we embraced and fell asleep without realizing it. I was worn out from the trip and the workweek, but happier than I had felt in months.

***

I woke at dawn to close the bedroom door so I could keep sleeping. Before returning to bed, I watched him for a moment, the sheet tangled around his legs, and couldn’t help lowering my gaze.

My God, he’s still hard even while asleep. I don’t know how I’m going to survive this weekend.

I laughed to myself and snuggled against him, pressing my naked ass against his hard cock.

We woke after eleven. Adrián, still half-asleep, asked me what I wanted for breakfast. I answered by taking him in my hand beneath the sheet and squeezing his morning cock.

—This. This is going to be my breakfast.

I went down without further preliminaries, pushed aside the sheet, and put him straight into my mouth without using my hands. I began sucking him slowly, closing my lips tightly around his shaft and moving my head up and down calmly to wake him completely. At first he stroked my back and hair absently. I licked his balls one at a time, sucked them into my mouth, went back up along the vein underneath, and swallowed him whole again, feeling him swell inside my mouth until he brushed my uvula. As his breathing quickened, he stopped caressing me and held my head with both hands, setting the pace himself and thrusting his hips upward to fuck my mouth, until I was no longer the one in control. Tears sprang to my eyes again, saliva ran down my chin and fell onto his balls, and he continued pounding my throat without mercy. He finished like that with a hoarse groan, holding my head against his groin while he ejaculated deep in my throat, and I didn’t pull away until I had swallowed every last drop. Then I licked his head clean, savoring what remained.

That, far from calming him, only aroused him further. He lay over me, ran his mouth across my breasts, sucking one nipple while pinching the other, then moved down my belly and buried his face between my legs, returning the favor by eating my pussy until I was soaked. When he felt me ready, he put me on all fours again in front of the headboard. I gripped the wooden bars with both hands as he entered slowly, with the difficulty of the first time that day, feeling him stretch me open again, and as soon as he was inside he gave me a loud slap that echoed throughout the room.

—That’s how you start the morning right —he said, gripping my hips—. Your pussy squeezing my cock the moment I wake up.

We had barely been awake a few minutes and I was already receiving pleasure again. Without having eaten breakfast, I drew strength from wherever I could to keep up a steady, hard pace, holding my hips with both hands and driving his cock into me until his balls bounced against my clitoris. He leaned over my back, grabbed one breast with one hand, and with the other found my clitoris and rubbed it while continuing to pound me. All I could manage was to repeat that he shouldn’t stop, my face against the pillow and my ass raised. He pushed his saliva-wet thumb into my asshole very slowly, and the double penetration made me scream. I reached the first orgasm of the day with my whole body trembling, unable to hold myself up properly, but he held me firmly by the hips and continued until he emptied himself inside me with his final thrusts, slower and deeper, groaning against my ear. I felt him spilling hotly deep inside, felt the last thrust rise through my belly.

At last we got up to wash. In the shower, beneath the water, he couldn’t resist pressing me against the tiles and taking me from behind again, this time more slowly, almost lazily, until he came for the fourth time in less than twenty-four hours, his cum mixing with the hot water running down my legs. We ate a hearty breakfast, because we were going to need it, and went out for a walk to buy what we needed for the rest of the weekend. Walking hand in hand through his neighborhood, my legs still weak, my pussy deliciously sore, and a silly smile on my face, I thought I had done the right thing crossing three provinces for him. And that this was only the beginning of a weekend I had no intention of ever forgetting.