Reclaiming His Cock

The moment I stepped into the hotel bar in downtown Chicago, my eyes locked on Marcus across the room. Ten years since we’d last fucked, and the sight of his broad shoulders in that crisp white shirt still made my pussy clench with raw need. He was here for the same pharma conference I was—pure coincidence, or fate playing dirty.

“Elena,” he said, voice low and rough as he slid onto the stool beside me. His dark eyes dragged over my tight black dress like he already owned every inch. “Still looking like sin in heels. You here alone?”

“Business trip,” I replied, sipping my martini, pulse hammering. The air between us crackled, thick with old memories of his thick cock stretching me open. “You?”

“Same. Suite 1428. Funny how these things work out.” His fingers brushed mine on the bar, deliberate, sending heat straight to my core. We barely lasted two drinks.

“Fuck the small talk, Marcus,” I whispered, leaning in so my tits pressed against his arm. “I’ve been wet since I saw you. Take me upstairs. Now.”

His grin was pure hunger. In the elevator he pinned me to the wall, mouth crashing on mine, hand sliding up my thigh under my dress. “Still such a greedy little slut for me, huh?” he growled against my lips. The doors dinged open on his floor.

Inside the suite he didn’t waste time. He shoved the door shut, spun me around, and yanked my dress up over my hips. My panties hit the floor in seconds. His big hand cupped my soaked pussy from behind, two thick fingers plunging straight in.

“Jesus, you’re dripping already,” he muttered, pumping them deep while his other hand freed his cock. I glanced back and moaned at the sight—his massive dick, veiny and rock-hard, the fat purple head already leaking. That cock. God, I’d missed it. Ten inches of pure thickness that used to ruin me for other men.

“Give it to me,” I begged, bending over the edge of the bed, ass up. “Fuck my pussy with that big cock, Marcus. I need it.”

He didn’t tease. One brutal thrust and he buried every inch inside me. The stretch burned so good I cried out, fingers clawing the sheets. “Fuck yes—your cunt still grips me like a vice,” he groaned, hips slamming forward. The wet slap of his heavy balls against my clit filled the room, loud and obscene.

He fucked me hard like that for minutes, one hand fisted in my hair, the other spanking my jiggling ass until it glowed pink. Each thrust pushed me closer, my walls fluttering around his girth. I came first, screaming his name, pussy squirting down his shaft and soaking his balls.

“Turn over,” he ordered, pulling out with a wet pop. I flipped onto my back, legs spread wide. He climbed between them, cock glistening with my cream, and drove back in missionary style. This time he went slower, deeper, grinding his pelvis against my swollen clit on every stroke.

“Look at me while I fuck you,” he demanded, dark eyes locked on mine. “Tell me whose cock you’ve been craving all these years.”

“Yours,” I gasped, nails digging into his back. “Only this fat cock, Marcus. No one else fills me like you do. Harder—please, I’m gonna cum again.”

He pounded faster, sweat dripping from his chest onto my tits. The headboard slammed the wall in rhythm. My second orgasm hit like a freight train, pussy convulsing, milking him. He roared, burying himself to the hilt as hot ropes of cum flooded my depths. Thick, endless spurts that overflowed and ran down my ass.

We collapsed, breathing hard, his heavy cock still twitching inside me. After a minute he pulled out slowly, watching his creamy load leak from my stretched hole with a satisfied smirk.

“Room service in twenty?” he asked, voice husky, already stroking his half-hard dick back to life. “Because I’m nowhere near done with this pussy tonight.”

“Make it ten,” I laughed breathlessly, reaching down to squeeze his slick cock. “I want to ride that monster next. And this time I want you to cum all over my tits.”

We never made it to room service.