Lost In Lust

Sexual Healing

Breakups are tough. I don't care who you are, or how much you loved the person, they are never easy. You don't get over someone you love in a couple of weeks. If you are able to do that, you never loved the person, plain and simple. Sure, go right ahead and argue with me if you'd like, but everyone does feel love differently. I thought I was in love with my ex girlfriend and considering how much it hurt when she ended it, I'd say I loved her with every fiber of my being. Call me weak, immature, naive – a hopeless romantic if you must – but I know what I felt. Emotionally I felt a lot of things, but physically, well that's a different story altogether.

I always knew that sex would get me into trouble one day, I just never thought it would all happen within one relationship over the course of a year. My girlfriend at the time decided our relationship was coming to a close, one day prior to our anniversary. I had bought her a promise ring and I didn't cheap out on it either. A woman will always tell you not to buy the most expensive things throughout a relationship, but when it truly matters, all that money you've saved, you spend it. That's what I did. Then again, I thought it mattered. She didn't.

The relationship was headed in a downward spiral – including but not limited to – me being blackmailed by her roommate to either cheat on her, or lose her forever – I chose to cheat. I could have tried to get out of it, but I guess that's what happens when women have that much power over men. They use their sexual prowess against every male to get exactly what they want and at any cost. For me, that cost was my guilt-free conscious and a faithful relationship, which I took great pride in. I could no longer sleep at night as memories of another woman flashed through my mind. I was a mess and eventually the distance the guilt was putting between us was too much. I tried holding on the best I could, but I guess the promise ring was just me trying to convince myself that things would get better. I still loved her deep down, but I wasn't actively loving her. My actions were out of fear and guilt and no one should have a relationship based on that.

It's been three weeks since we had the talk. I'm still a mess and I've developed severe insomnia – go figure. I keep thinking about how she's doing, but it's consuming my life. I needed to get rid of the attachments, but I didn't know how. Her mom is – was –someone I looked up to for advice. Ever since that morning she woke me up, things have been a little awkward to say the least. Family gatherings would cause an uneasy feeling and I think my ex felt it as well. She never knew and probably didn't suspect anything either. She always thought I would cheat on her with other woman her age, or a little older, but with her own mother, never.

The day came when I couldn't take anymore and I had to call her mother. She didn't answer, so I left her a voicemail telling her my predicament. She called me later that week when I was free and we hashed things out. Agreeing to meet me the following weekend was the best she could do, but it was more than enough for me. I would finally be able to talk to someone about how I was feeling and maybe voice my concerns to her about what had happened between her daughter and I.

Saturday came a lot sooner than I thought. I had just finished showering when I heard a knock at the door. Shit, I thought. I'm trying to get through a debilitating breakup and here I am in just a towel to discuss it with my ex's mother – which whom I fucked prior to her leaving me. The reason she gave me though, was that she didn't know what she wanted. She was right. Ever since we started dating I felt like I was forcing my love on her.

Running into my room, I realized I had left my laundry downstairs and would have to pass by the door to get underwear, so I just opted to open the door anyway. Her mom was wearing a leather jacket and jeans, with her hair tied up in a ponytail. She smiled as she entered the house.

"Sorry about the towel," I apologized. She had actually arrived a bit early and apologized for it herself, which made me feel a bit better about being indecent. She insisted that I could throw on a shirt and leave the towel for the time being. I thought about it for a moment and figured it wouldn't be too awkward. We went to the living room and sat down on the couch. She took her jacket off to reveal a button-up plaid shirt, which she had rolled the sleeves. I offered her a glass of water, but she kindly declined.

After what felt like hours, combined with me telling her some shocking details about the relationship and holding back a few tears, we were done. I had rid the pressure of everything weighing heavily on my chest and I could finally breathe. Her mom sat there, digesting what had happened and came to the same conclusion as me: her daughter was too young and there was no sense in trying anymore. I had to let go, move on and if she came back, then maybe we could try again.

"Just in case you don't get to try again though." Her mom began to unbutton her shirt and the surprised look on my face didn't deter her at all. She was clearly thinking that one last hurrah was required and I very much agreed. I was hurting and I needed something – someone – familiar to get me through the pain. For her it might have been another good fuck, but for me it was closure.

She took off her shirt and then her fancy, black lace bra to allow her breasts to hang freely. I stared at them for a moment and then drove my face into them. Grabbing each breast, I licked her nipples as she then pulled my towel off. She pushed me onto my back and then began to suck my squeaky clean dick. The couch wasn't the most ideal place to fuck with the large windows facing the street, but I had nothing to lose for once.

Once she was satisfied with how slippery she had made my dick, she took off her jeans and her black panties. She rubbed her pussy briefly and then just slid my dick in her like it was the only reason for her visiting me. It was a bit narrow on the couch, but she managed to ride me without slipping off. She almost slipped off after a good ten minutes and decided she didn't want to fight it anymore. We switched to her being on her back and I put one leg down while I knelt on the other to get some footing to thrust deep into her pussy – all while she held her legs up in the air. She was tighter than I remembered from the first time, which was certainly a nice surprise for me.

It was time for one last position. I was feeling much better now, but I wanted that last perfect moment to help me push past those daunting memories of her daughter. She stood up in the same position as me with one foot on the floor and I proceeded to fuck her. Fucking her from behind allowed me to slap her ass and pull on her hair. I felt a bit of anger for my ex build up and I pulled on her mother's ponytail as hard as I could, forcing her head back so that I could kiss her neck and then nibble on her ear. At the same time I reached her clit with my free hand and then fucked her as hard as I possibly could.

She moaned loudly and begged for me not to stop – so I didn't. I continued like this until I was being forced out of her pussy from her intense orgasm and then came in her pussy as her legs began to shake uncontrollably. As I pulled out, my cum dripped out of her pussy and onto the bath towel still on the couch. She laid down on her back, exhausted, but clearly satisfied once more. I sat down on the opposite side of the couch looking over at her, sweat dripping down my entire body. After catching her breath, she spoke to me.

"If you were fucking her like you fucked me, I don't know why she left you. But I guess her loss is my gain. I'll be visiting you again real soon."