Quite a bit of time had passed since I’d last seen Jared. It had been our senior year in college, in fact. But then, out of the blue, there he was at my husband’s company holiday party.

Jared was visiting from New York City, a corporate bigwig slumming with the local peons.

The moment I saw him across the hotel ballroom, I knew I’d have to spend a night with him before he left our tiny town — again. It didn’t matter that I was married to another man.

Memories of hot sex from our college days flooded my head. That, in turn, caused a flood in my panties.

Before I even had a chance to get Jared alone, I had relived some of our most amazing sex in my mind. All the while, I clutched my white wine and tried to engage in small talk with him in front of my hubby, Paul. The whole time I attempted to pretend that Jared and I didn’t share a torrid past.

Before long, Paul slid his hand along my lower back and leaned in to say, “I have to talk to Scott and Joe for a moment. You OK here?”

I nodded, not saying a word, simply because I was beyond OK.

Paul took off, and Jared was suddenly staring at me with a predatory look in his eyes. His gaze made my nipples hard. I felt short of breath, but it was from nerves and excitement and arousal.

With my head swimming, I said to Jared in a rush, “It’s been so long.”

He reached out and touched my wrist, and my brain shut down and my words petered out. All I could feel was the place where his fingers touched my flesh. Fire and heat and a pounding thump of arousal seemed to course throughout my entire body.

I shifted my feet and quickly realized that was a big mistake. The movement made me aware that my pussy was wet and swollen. If he would have hiked up my dress, bent me over and entered me, our sex would have been as swift and hot as if we’d had an hour of insane foreplay.

“How are you, Jared?”

“I’m better now,” he told me. “I was bored out of my mind, but now I’m standing here picturing you naked.”

I blushed down to my toes and took a sip of my wine before I said, “You look good.”

“You look even better than good,” he said. “You look phenomenal.” His fingers were still on my wrist, and they tightened enough to make my pussy thump.

“Thanks.”

“Your husband is nice.”

“He is,” I agreed.

“Does he fuck you like I did?”

The question sent me into a momentary spiral.

“No one has,” I answered.

He laughed.

“It’s the truth,” I told him.

“Perhaps we can revisit that later.”

I saw Paul heading our way, and so did he.

“Visit me. Room 213,” he whispered. “Show up after midnight or before nine. Or call if you want. The front desk will be more than happy to ring my room.”

“Everything good?” Paul asked upon his return. He looked confused as to why I was still standing there with one of the company’s big guns.

Smiling, Jared told him, “Your wife and I were just discussing her love of terrible horror movies.”

I felt my body relax. Jared remembered, and he was using his inside information of all things me to cover our tracks.

Paul groaned and went off on my terrible B-movie obsession.

Meanwhile, I was imagining Jared’s head between my thighs, his tongue on my clit and his fingers exploring my pussy.

That night, I had insomnia. More than a few times in the past, I’d spent the night reading, watching movies or even going for a drive. So, leaving the house at one a.m. after Paul had fallen asleep wasn’t a big deal. He knew I was a weird night owl.

But that night was a big deal to me as I drove with my heart thundering and my mind whirling, headed to Paul’s hotel.

I knocked and the door to 213 opened before I was done with the second rap of my knuckles.

Jared scooped me up in his arms, hustled me in, pressed me to the wall inside the door and kissed me like his life depended on it. All the air rushed out of my lungs.

He slid his hand up my thigh and to my waistband. He dipped inside my leggings and found me bare beneath. He groaned as his fingers slipped along my slick folds.

“You’re wet,” he said.

“I left wet behind hours ago,” I gasped as he slipped a finger into my slick depths. “Now I’m drenched.”

He flicked his finger against my clit, and I moaned.

“Drenched. Yes. So fucking wet.”

He slid his pajama pants down, and his cock was raging hard and standing at attention. He turned me to face the wall, yanked down my leggings and entered me. The act was so hard and fast and animalistic. I was on the verge of coming in no time at all.

He pressed his upper body against me, sank his teeth into my neck and gripped my hips. He slammed into me, and his cock hit me just right with every inward plunge. I came with my face pressed against the wall.

Jared pulled free of me and wrapped his arms around my waist. He whispered hotly into my ear, “I was wondering if that position still got you off. I see the answer is yes.”

“Fuck yes,” I agreed, confirming the obvious with lusty satisfaction.

He scooped me up again and carried me to the bed. I felt boneless and hot and ready for more.

We dropped to the bed, and he urged me to take his cock in my mouth. On my knees, I did. As I worked on him, he maneuvered me so my thighs straddled his face. And then his tongue was on my slit, and I had to focus to keep my rhythm as he licked and sucked my clit. His fingers slid into my pussy, and his tongue lapped at my swollen clit.

Jared’s free hand gripped my thigh hard. That proprietary gesture only amped up my arousal.

My pussy hugged him tightly. Lingering spasms from my first orgasm continued to flicker. But as he fingered me and suckled that tender knot of flesh, my cunt grew tighter and tighter until I came again.

He gently moved me off of him. His fingers were coated in my juices, and he painted them on my lips before kissing me passionately.

“You still taste sweet,” he said.

I groaned and thought I might die from pleasure.

Jared laid me down and pushed my thighs wide apart. He settled his muscular body over mine with his hard cock poking at my wet slit.

He kissed me as he slid his dick into me slowly. He gave me all the time in the world to relish the feeling of him stretching and filling me.

Then he started to move rhythmically.

I lifted my hips to take every inch of him as deeply as I could. Every time he plunged into me, he brushed my G-spot. I clutched at his biceps as we moved together.

“I remember this,” I said.

“Me, too,” he replied.

He rocked into me gently. He was always gentle at first. But I knew it was simply a buildup. A teaser.

Suddenly, his body began smashing against mine. I could barely breathe from the intensity of his thrusts, but I didn’t care as I tilted my pelvis up to meet his every motion.

My pussy trembled with the stimulation. I was still experiencing after-effects of my last orgasm, and the feeling of his thick cock sliding in and out of me had me hurtling toward another.

Jared kissed my cheek and my neck, then he bit my earlobe hard enough to make me gasp.

“Still as tight as ever,” he murmured in my ear.

Pleasure, warm and syrupy, coursed through me.

“Does the mister appreciate how tight you are? How good your pussy feels?”

Every word was accented by a thrust. Every motion pushed me higher and higher until I was dizzy with the need to come.

“I don’t know,” I said. I was breathless; I could hear it. “I’ve never asked him.”

“You should. I’d love to know the answer.”

I reached for Jared, but he playfully caught my hands and pinned them above my head against the mattress. Every time he thrust, a wave of pleasure engulfed me and his pubic bone hit my clit.

Finally, my body caved to the escalating pleasure.

I came with a muffled cry because he covered my mouth with his and swallowed the ecstatic sound.

“Roll over,” he said, moving off me.

I rolled to my belly, but he pulled me back to my side. He lifted my leg and held it, his strong arm never wavering from the effort. He slid into me from behind and started to rock his hips.

His warm chest pressed against my back, and his hips bumped against mine. Goose bumps broke out along my neck and shoulders as he placed soft kisses there. Jared’s touch was exquisite.

My pussy was ridiculously slick from my orgasms. I was such a sloppy mess, and I felt the wetness coating my thighs.

He pushed into me forcefully, and I groaned with abandon, feeling the glimmer of another climax flickering in the distance. The longer he moved within me, the more I became aware of it.

“Play with your clit,” he said. “So I can see.”

As Jared looked over my shoulder, I moved my fingers through my own juices and caressed the hard knot of my clit. I stroked myself in time to his thrusts.

Jared sighed, apparently pleased with my actions. He raked his teeth across the back of my neck and my nipples instantly grew erect.

“I’m very close, sweetheart. I’m about a second away from popping,” he told me.

I nodded, words lost to me then. The excitement of being with him again, of fucking like animals, was nearly unbearable in its sweetness.

He banged into me, moving our bodies across the mattress with every motion.

“I’m going to come. I’m coming,” he groaned, sending a giddiness swirling through me.

One final thrust, and I managed to come with him. It was a soft, rolling orgasm that complemented his nearly violent climax.

He let my leg go, and we lay there, still joined, for a moment.

His hand swept my hip — up and down, up and down — mesmerizing and hypnotic.

“Can you stay for a few hours? Surely the night’s not over yet. I leave in the morning.”

I rolled over to face him — thinking of my husband and wondering if I’d ever tell him about my wicked ways — and said, “I think I can spare a few more hours before the sun comes up.”

Jared sighed and took me his arms before saying, “Just like old times.”