Hips That Haunt: A Hot Afternoon of Surrender

“Jake, this is wrong. You know that. What if I’d been… you know…” she said, trailing off.
“Touching yourself?” I blurted, instantly wishing I could take it back.

She paused, then nodded. “Exactly. A single mom with two daughters has to be careful, set a good example.”

I could barely mumble responses, my nerves fried. She softened, saying she trusted me. As I sat, she noticed me adjust myself – I was painfully hard. “Jake, what’s with you?” she asked, her eyes wide but glinting with something else.

I spilled everything: “I’m so sorry, Vanessa, but I’ve been obsessed with your hips since we met. Your ex was a fool to leave you. I know Mia’s going to be just like you, and I’ll never leave her.”

Her expression melted into warmth. “That’s sweet, Jake. Mia’s lucky.” She opened her arms, and I leaned into the hug, my face buried in her chest, her scent overwhelming. I didn’t want to let go. Her breathing quickened, mirroring mine.

“Jake, we shouldn’t…” she whispered. “Please, Vanessa, I want you so bad,” I said, desperate. I kissed her neck, soft and slow, and – unbelievably – she pulled me closer.

“Jake, let’s make a deal,” she said. “It’s been years since I’ve been with anyone, and, well, my… needs build up sometimes.” I nodded, barely breathing. “You can do what I allow, and I won’t tell Mia or kick you out. Deal?”

I thought it’d be minor, but I’d take anything. “Deal,” I said.

“Kiss my neck again,” she said, her voice low. I did, brushing my lips gently along her skin, feeling her pulse race. “Oh, that’s good,” she sighed. Emboldened, I kissed her breast through the nightgown, mimicking the slow, teasing rhythm.

“Jake, I’m getting too worked up,” she gasped, her voice trembling.

“I’ve got you,” I said, steady but burning inside.

“Keep going… kiss it… suck it… oh, it’s incredible,” she moaned, her body arching slightly.

“What’s it feel like?” I asked, my voice husky.

“Like sparks shooting straight to my core,” she whispered.

“Can I touch your hips?” I asked, desperate.

“Yes, but don’t stop kissing,” she said.

I turned her onto her stomach, my hands trembling as I lifted her nightgown. Those hips – the ones I’d dreamed about – came into view, full and perfect, her skin like silk. Her calves were toned, her thighs thick and inviting, and between them, the faint outline of her swollen lips. I wanted to savor every second, so I kissed her neck, trailing my lips down her spine, her skin so soft it felt unreal. My tongue grazed the small of her back, and as I reached the curve just below her hips, I parted her thighs with my knees. She glanced back, surprised but yielding, her eyes heavy with desire.

I paused, staring at her, the sight of her glistening lips between those lush thighs making my head spin. I thought, “This is where Mia came from.” I leaned in, my tongue brushing her slowly, teasing her outer folds. She gasped, “Oh, I forgot how good this is… don’t stop!” Her hips rocked slightly, urging me on.

She rolled onto her back, spreading her legs wide. “Does it gross you out?” she asked, vulnerable.
“Not even close,” I said, diving back in. My tongue explored her, circling her clit with deliberate, slow strokes, then quickening as she moaned louder, her hands gripping the sheets. “Jake, keep going!” she cried, her body trembling, her hips grinding against my face. I alternated between soft licks and firm pressure, tasting her sweetness, feeling her thighs tense around me. “I’m… I’m close!” she gasped. I focused on her clit, sucking gently, and within seconds, she arched hard, a shudder ripping through her as she cried out, her body pulsing, her breath ragged.

I couldn’t hold back. I lifted her thighs, positioning her at the bed’s edge, her legs draped over my shoulders. I teased her entrance with the tip, her warmth pulling me in. As I slid inside, her tightness gripped me, her hips rocking to meet each slow thrust. My hands roamed, cupping her breasts, my fingers circling her hard nipples. Each movement was deliberate, my hips grinding against hers, the sound of our bodies meeting filling the room. Her moans grew louder, her nails digging into my arms as I picked up the pace, her curves bouncing beneath me. “Harder, Jake,” she begged, and I obliged, driving deeper, her thighs trembling in my grip.

We lost ourselves in it, switching positions – her on top, her hips rolling in slow, torturous circles, then me behind her, gripping those perfect hips as she pushed back against me. Each round was more intense, her gasps and my groans blending into a haze of sweat and heat. By 11 p.m., we were spent, our bodies sore after what must’ve been our fifth or sixth climax. For the last one, we lay side by side, touching ourselves, her fingers moving in rhythm with mine, both of us chasing one final, aching release. It was raw, overwhelming, and left us trembling.

We collapsed into each other’s arms.

“I should head out,” I said, my voice hoarse.

“Lock the door, yeah?” she murmured, exhausted.

“Got it.”

She kissed me softly, then, with a playful smirk, kissed lower. As I dressed and headed for the door, she called, “Jake.”