We reveled in the newness of each other for a while, and before I knew it, he was kneeling up over me, that monster of a cock pressing against my lips. I opened for him, tried to take him, gagged a few times-my god, he was so big. My jeans were undone, my hand shoved down my pants as I sucked him, rubbing furiously at my clit, delirious with lust. Not only was I having sex with my friend's ex-fiance-I was still technically married, and my friend was sleeping in the bedroom right above us and could come down at any time. The sound of a toilet flushing upstairs surprised us both, and he completely lost it, coming in a flood in my mouth. We separated quickly, and I pulled my clothes together, going upstairs and finding the bathroom empty again. I took a quick shower, feeling horribly guilty-but I couldn't help touching myself, shuddering against the tiles, remembering the feel of his cock in my mouth and wondering what it would feel like shoved up inside of me.

The next day, he and I flirted mercilessly, finding every opportunity to touch each other, rub up against each other, while my friend wasn't looking. I had planned to go back home that day while I knew my ex and his parents were out of town to get some more of my stuff. When I mentioned this, Rob offered to come with me as "protection"-

just in case my ex showed up. We both knew why he was really coming along, and I'd barely opened the door when we were on each other. There were no pretenses. We both knew exactly what we wanted, and could continue, uninterrupted-and we did.

We ended up in the bedroom, our clothes coming off quickly, both of us in a hurry, even though we didn't have to be. The experience of being with another man after so long was dizzyingly exciting. His kisses were different, he touched me differently, and the newness of it all made me incredibly wet.