Chris was my old flame from college. Occasionally, he popped up in my mental file cabinet for masturbation or fucking fantasies. My husband knew about him and jokingly called him “that guy you never got over.”

Apparently, that was true because when I ran into him at a bar on girls’ night my heart trip-hammered.

We literally collided, and he reached out to steady me with his big hands on my upper arms — all before realizing who I was.

We stared at each other in shock for a moment before he enfolded me in a warm hug.

“What are you doing here?” he asked incredulously.

I was flushed from the surprise and the crowded heat of the bar, but I was also suddenly and profoundly wet between

my legs.

“I’m here with my girlfriends,” I told him.

He continued to rest his hands on my arms, and I felt like the flesh beneath his palms might burst into flames at any moment.

I’d noticed all my friends were watching us from across the bar as we talked and touched. I gave them a little finger wave to let them know I was OK.

Chris looked reluctant to end our moment.

“I don’t want to interrupt your night out,” he said. “Besides, I was just getting ready to go home. I had an after-work thing with my coworkers, but everyone just left.”

I swallowed hard and said, “Give me a minute. I’ll be right back.”

I went to the table where my friends sat.

“Who’s that?” asked Cara, the boldest of the group.

“An old friend. I haven’t seen him in ages. I’m going to go grab a coffee with him and his girlfriend and catch up.”

A total lie.

Savvy Cara cocked an eyebrow and commented wryly, “Girlfriend, huh?”

I stared her down until she looked away.

“Yep, his girlfriend,” I said, letting her know the discussion was off limits.

“Well, have fun!” said Karen, my sweetest and most naive pal.

“I will. See you guys later. I have to go call John and tell him I’ll be a while.”

And that’s exactly what I did. I called my unsuspecting husband from a tiny, almost quiet nook in the bar. He was fine with me staying out later. Me, an old friend and his girl? What was to worry about?

I went back to Chris and took his arm, telling him on our way out the door, “Take me home with you.”

He seemed startled, glanced at my wedding ring and asked, “You mean it? Aren’t you married?”

“Take me home,” I insisted.

In the shadowy darkness of the parking lot, I slid his hand beneath my summer dress and into my sopping wet panties. I wanted him to know how serious I was.

He understood and nodded.

“Follow me?” he asked, nodding toward his car.

“Yep.”

I followed his SUV on a five-minute drive to a neighborhood I knew well but never knew he lived in. I squirmed in my seat the whole fucking way.

I practically ran to his front door, and when he swung it wide for me to enter, I bolted in and turned to face him. We collided, and I kissed him, running my hands along the once familiar but now foreign landscape of his body as he did the same to me.

“You feel good,” he said.

“Ditto. I never thought I’d ever see you again.”

Chris pushed his mouth against mine and slipped his tongue past my lips. Reaching beneath my dress, he grabbed twin handfuls of my ass and squeezed. He hauled me forward so my body was mashed tight against his. I felt the hard line of his cock and moaned softly. I rubbed against him, grinding my body and feeling his bulge against my pussy.

Chris yanked my panties down, and I kicked them off. I let my sandals fall free of my feet. Without warning, he hauled me up. I wrapped my legs around his middle. We bounced off the foyer wall in a lusty haze, and then he was walking us to his bedroom.

I dropped to the mattress with my dress rucked up around my middle and my pussy exposed.

I let my legs fall open so he could see my wetness in the dim bedroom light.

“Oh, baby,” he said under his breath. He fumbled with his belt, worked it free and got totally undressed. He bunched my already mussed dress in his fists as he got between my legs, put his mouth on my pussy and ate me with wild abandon.

I was so horny, so wet and on edge, that it only took him a few minutes of licking me to get right there. He pushed his fingers inside me, moving them quickly through the slippery mess of my arousal.

I was hovering on the edge of climax. He bit the inside of my thigh gently, and I felt my cunt grip around his driving fingers. He went back to licking me, fucking me with his fingers. Then he sucked my clit, and I lost it. I came, my hands on the back of his head, holding him tight to my bucking body. He exhaled, and the heat of his breath coursed over me, making me shiver with delight.

I yanked his hair, wanting him inside me right then and there.

He rose, and I spread my legs, playing my fingers through the wetness between my thighs. I wanted him to see how plump and red and ready I was for him.

He groaned, and the sound slipped up my spine, burrowing beneath my hair to tingle my scalp.

I briefly pushed a finger inside my cunt as he repositioned himself.

Chris pushed my knees high before settling between them. His hard cock slid along my split. The tip of his dick briefly slipped inside me. Then he moved again, popping out and letting his shaft glide over my already sensitive clit. I shuddered, and he smiled at my reaction.

I pushed my hand down between us, grabbed his rigid cock and thrust my hips up.

“Still bold and impatient, I see.” His voice rumbled against my neck as he spoke, and goose bumps dotted my shoulder and arm.

“Always,” I said.

I bucked my hips again, and he took the hint, driving into me deep and fast. I gasped, bringing my legs up to take him as deep as I could. I moved beneath him, thrusting my body upward. My nipples were hard against his bare chest, my breath a hot rush of excitement.

I squeezed my pussy muscles and felt the first ripple and clench of my impending orgasm. I was so fucking turned on. I was drenched, and he noticed.

“Someone’s horny. You’re very, very wet, girl. You’re flowing like a river for my dick.”

I groaned. I loved when he talked dirty to me.

“A sopping mess of turned on. So slick I can slide all the way in deep and fast like this,” he said, with action accompanying his words.

I clenched my pussy tight and kissed him desperately. He slowed down his motions, fucking with me as he fucked me, rocking into me gently.

I grabbed his shoulders and squeezed, my nails biting into his skin.

But he just chuckled at my desperation.

I grabbed his ass and hauled him against me. He slammed into my pussy, his pelvic bone bumping my clit. I squeezed around him again. When he hit my thrumming nub again, I exploded.

I tilted my head back, coming with a loud shout.

His self-satisfied grin vanished, and an animalistic growl came out of him.

Chris pulled free of me and dropped to his side. He got behind me and lifted my top leg. He slid into me from behind, kissing the side of my neck as he held my leg high to get into me as deep as he could.

I reached down to strum my clit. My pleasure was fueled by the illicit nature of our encounter. Old times, lost loves, great lovers, cheating on the good hubby, all that. It was a one-time deal. It was a necessity, an urge I couldn’t control.

I pushed back to take him, angling my ass to make it work.

“Yeah, like that,” he said. He kissed the back of my neck and my goose bumps reemerged.

He grabbed my hip as my fingers worked fast over my slippery clitoris. He yanked me back against him every time he thrust forward. I felt my pussy growing tighter and tighter as he fucked me.

When he trailed his tongue up the back of my neck, it drove me crazy. When he bit me there, I felt my insides quiver.

“You’re such a dirty girl. Always were. Here you are, married, and I’m fucking you like I used to. We never did romantic and gentle well, did we?”

I shook my head as he teasingly nearly withdrew his cock, but then he pushed back in deeper than ever.

“You’re going to come again, aren’t you? Come again on my hard cock. So deep inside you. Fucking you so hard and fast. Does your husband fuck you this hard? Does he fuck you this fast? Is it this wild with you two? Is it as good and dirty as it is with us?”

I was shaking my head over and over again as his words spurred me on, and I worked my clit as his slick dick traveled in and out of my willing cunt.

“God no. No, no, no,” I said softly. I didn’t think he’d heard me, but then I thought he did.

He slammed into me, and I came — my spasming pussy working around him.

He snarled — downright snarled — and pulled free of me. He flipped me onto my belly and hiked my hips up just enough to get inside me.

Our coupling was all about raw need and urgency. Nothing more, nothing less. He knew how far he could push me, and that’s how far he pushed.

His hand pressed down on my back. His other hand tangled in my hair and tugged just enough.

He continued to drive into me as the aftershocks of my orgasm worked through me. The flickering and gripping of my pussy seemed to drive him mad. His movement became faster, jerkier. His breath was harsh on my back, his fingers gripped my hair tighter and I felt pleasure worm through me. I doubted I’d come again, but the excitement of the moment was undeniable.

“I’m coming — I’m fucking coming,” he said. His body bucked against mine once more, and then the warmth of his come slipped from me, coating my inner thighs.

He collapsed on top of me, forcing the air out of my lungs, which made me gasp.

It was quite the reunion.