Wicked Wednesday

One Text, One Regret – Wicked Wednesday

One Text, One Regret – Wicked Wednesday

One Text – One Regret

I’d love to say sexual time travel would be of no use to me. That I don’t regret any of the people I’ve had sex with and I didn’t miss out on any sexy opportunities. Unfortunately, neither is remotely true. But, the choices I made at that time were for a reason. And without them, I wouldn’t be the same me I am now. With lessons learnt and wisdom gained.

There is one choice I still look back on with regret sometimes. One opportunity, one moment, one text. I’d had a drunken but extremely memorable night with him the weekend before. A man I had desired for years. He texts me.

‘What are you up to? Do you want to do something?’

Yes! Yes! Yes!

‘Sorry I’m busy at the moment.’

One text. One regret. I thought he was too good for me. That a man like him could never be interested in me. It made no sense. Better not take any risks I might regret, right? Except they rightly say you only look back and regret the chances you didn’t take.

Had I taken that chance, I think it might have gone a little like this…

The black door swung open. Swinging a wave of nerves over my body. He stood before me, all smiles, tanned skin and sandy hair.

“Do you wanna come in?”


My voice was shaking. Part nerves, part body trembling desire. Click. The latch on the door locked behind us.

“So, what do you wanna do?”

The butterflies in my stomach fluttered into a smile. My eyes heavy with desire, fixated on his. They were a striking gunmetal blue, travelling over my body like lasers, heating it in their path. He stepped closer and my neck arched to hold his gaze, my smile transforming as I sunk my teeth into my bottom lip.

“We could go upstairs?”

“Yeah, okay.”

I broke our gaze as I agreed. My eyes darting down to the ground as the anticipation enveloped my chest. His arm wrapped loosely around my waist, stealing my breath as we ascended the stairs together.

I entered his bedroom first. Smiling at the mattress on the floor as I remembered our experience a few nights before. The room was sparse, with nothing but a chest of drawers and tv to accompany the bedless mattress. I knew it was all we were going to need.

The door had barely closed behind us when I felt his arms surround me from behind. His head coming down to rest upon my head, a kiss tickling my hair. My heart was a volcano in my chest. The lava exploding through my body, to my toes, my fingertips, my cunt. I brushed my hands over his arm. Just enough to encourage him.

And it was enough. He spun me around and kissed me with a passion I hadn’t expected. His lips caressing, his tongue massaging and our saliva entwined into one. I was in love with his confidence. The way it overshadowed my nerves. I knew he would take what he wanted from me. And that was all I wanted; it was what I craved.

As he pressed against my mouth, I let my fingertips slip up his top and stroke his torso. It was smooth and hard, the trail of hair causing an involuntary moan of lust to escape my lips. He smirked against me and I cursed myself as I melted over his arrogance. He knew he looked good, and his self-confidence had me wetter than any physical trait ever could.

As he lifted his top over his head, I breathed in his natural musk. Planting kisses over his chest as an excuse to inhale his thick and desirable scent. The smell had me in a spin. I needed him then. At that exact moment. I began to fumble over the buttons of his jeans, desperate to release his cock. Salivating as I remembered its taste. But he stopped me.

He pulled me away, hands clasping at my shoulders. That arrogant smile annoying me more this time, but still making my cunt clench with relucting enthusiasm. That cocky, sexy bastard.

My dress didn’t stay on much longer. He had whipped it over my shoulders and pulled me back towards him in two, pounding breaths. My gaze drifted upwards as I tiptoed in an attempt to bring my mouth closer to his. My arms stretching up and around his golden brown neck. His kiss hit me with force, causing me to stumble back until my body thudded against the wall behind me. Just as the thought of unbuttoning his jeans flashed back into my mind, his hands grazed soft and purposefully up my arms, reaching my wrists and slamming them back above my head. Pinning them in place with just one arm, his head descended down to my breasts. Scooping them out of their cups with his other hand and devouring my nipples in turn.

I was getting desperate to be filled. My mouth, my cunt. I didn’t mind. I just needed to feel him inside me. My hips arched towards him as my upper body remained firmly under his power. I was moaning. I was dripping. I was becoming dizzy with the urgent need for more of him.

He unbuttoned his jeans himself. One hand fiddling with the metal disks, while the other still held me in place. My wide eyes were fixated, my breaths a wild storm.

His thick, delicious cock sprung free and I caught just a glimpse of a smile before he pressed my head down towards it. Enough to see it wasn’t arrogant this time, but heavy with both longing and satisfaction.

My tongue trailed its length. Tasting every part before eventually sliding my mouth down the shaft. I could feel his tremor, hear his groans. My hands swept up the back of his thighs, grabbing at his ass as I attempted to thrust him deeper down my throat. Rhythmically pounding his cock into me as my mouth reciprocated the movement. My tongue dancing against the tip of his erection.

The noise he made was incomprehensible. Falling somewhere between a groan and a gasp, finishing with something resembling a ‘fuck’. I felt the tug on my hair. So clearly reluctant, but firm at the same time.

“Bend over.”

His voice was deeper, huskier. So damn sexier. I clumsily raised from my crouched position and angled my body down, pressing my hands against the cold wall, my ass vulnerable to him. The time it took him to encase his cock in rubber felt like an eternity, as my body wriggled and writhed with need. The warm drips of desire cooling as they trickled down the inside of my thighs.

His hands clung to my hips whilst I felt the tip of his thick cock brush against my cunt. Swimming over the wetness of my arousal before finding the right spot to dive in. The pounds of pleasure were deep and fleeting. As I jiggled my ass back, desperate for more, I felt his collapse. His body crumbling over my back and his cock softening inside me. I hadn’t orgasmed, but I didn’t mind. We had a long afternoon ahead of us…

Wicked Wednesday

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  1. Oooh … Sexy! Great interpretation of the prompt as well =D

  2. Oh if only this could really have happened. So sexy! Indeed, I understand why you regret this!

    Rebel xox

  3. You are right, for me most of my regrets are the things I didn’t do not the things I did.

    I hope writing this story was cathartic though


  4. “Heavy with longing and satisfaction” is a great way to describe a cock! I have a few of these, too – but there are always more opportunities to say yes to in the future!

  5. I think most of us would regret missing the opportunity of a shag like that! Loved it, the urgency and your feeling of his god-like sexiness is very evident.

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