tagRomanceMakeup Sex

Makeup Sex


The Breakup

"You know what, Vanessa?" I said with anger, "You have the worst attitude and the nastiest disposition of any person in the history of mankind. I don't need this bullshit in my life. There are countless women out there that would love to go out with me."

She laughed, sarcastically, and said, "Yeah I know. Even when we go out to the club or the movies, you can't help yourself from coming on to them. Maybe one of those skanks is willing to be your trophy girlfriend, but not me. I have this arcane object inside my head called a brain, and that seems to intimidate you."

Man, she knew how to push my buttons. "Coming on to them? More bullshit. It keeps on coming, doesn't it? Vanessa, I can't control what other people do. It is true that other girls flirt with me, but I always end it right then and there. There is no need to feel jealous to the point of rage that you experience. I admit, I can be judgmental sometimes, shallow, and inconsiderate to you. I am not a Saint or perfect, but neither are you."

She wasted no time firing back at me. "I swear, anytime I show any kind of independence, you become annoyed and argumentative. I have the nerve to contradict the great Christian Godspeed! It gets really old, really fast. I am not your goddamn groupie. Yes, you're talented and gifted. Yes, I find you magnetic and charming. Yes, I want to spend the rest of my life with you, but not as a trophy to hang on your mantel."

I was at my wit's end. "Vanessa, this is just not working out. I don't want to be with you anymore. I'll be dead of a heart attack before I'm 45 if we stay together. I'm sick of you, and all of your paranoid schizoid antics. Nice knowing you, I wish you the very best." I stormed out the door to her apartment, 1 million percent certain never to return. I just knew that any second, she would be chasing after me, and begging me to come back after realizing what she was giving up. I already had two or three comebacks in my mind just for this moment. Only, it never was. Incredibly, it was apparent that Vanessa also thought ending the relationship was the best way to go. That bitch! I thought to myself, fuck her, then, I don't need this crap. I'll go where I am wanted.

Whether Vanessa knew it or not, she was the most beautiful woman I'd ever laid eyes on. She was around 5'7" with a tone (but not ripped) physique. Of both Mexican and Ecuadorian descent, she had a tanned complexion all year round. A natural brunette, her hair complemented her tanned skin. I must admit that the first time I met Vanessa, I could not believe how sensual her lips were. They were not too big and puffy, but definitely not average or thin.

Since we worked for the same company, I would see her on a regular basis. My mind would fill with "impure thoughts" of the oral kind. She would act oblivious to my staring and daydreaming, but she was sharp, and aware of any attention passed her way. She knew I was checking her out, and she loved it (at least, that is what she told me later on when we hooked up). If it wasn't her lips driving me crazy, it was her derrière. When she would wear those tight blue jeans, or khaki Capri pants, I would go bonkers! She would wear fullback underwear, what some "gangsta hoes" might deem "granny panties", but I loved them.

Jesus, I am a pig, aren't I?

Her smell was intoxicating. She would take two showers every day, one in the morning and one at night. She would use Irish Spring soap, bar and liquid, for everything except her hair. If you've never used it, Irish Spring has an extremely unique smell, unique but pleasant.

Sex was one of a couple weapons Vanessa had in her arsenal against me. It was also the most powerful one, and she knew it.

The Fuckup

I was at a sports bar on a Saturday night, less than a week after me and Vanessa called it quits. The bar was called Some Place Else. Well, they must have read my mind because going someplace else was the first inclination I had when I walked in the door. The music was shit, the beer was room temperature, and it is hard to hear anyone speak because of the loud scratchy music.

I wasn't alone. One of the women at work, Kathy (or Kat), must have known Vanessa and me broke up because she honed in on me like an eagle. At first, I shrugged off her advances, mainly because I am not a scumbag, and was never unfaithful to any woman in my life. The only thing was, though, Vanessa and I were no longer a couple, technically. So if I wanted to seduce every woman in the world, how can anyone blame me and call me unfaithful?

So, after touching on it in my mind while at Someplace Else, and once I had acquitted myself of one count of First-Degree Planned Casual Fucking While On Temporary Breakup, I was guilt-free (and piss drunk) enough to take my Sidekick-of-the-Night Kathy back home for some late night fun. Kat was more than willing to join me on this adventure, so we took a cab back to my apartment. If you are ever in this situation, whether you're a man or woman, just remember these three words: the spare key.

Once we entered my apartment, and closed the door, Kat and I giggled with excitement, flirting back and forth in the doorway entrance while taking off our shoes. Right after she got her shoes off, Kat unzipped the fly to her jeans, and promptly slid them off to reveal her sexy frame, clad in only a skimpy pink pair of silk panties. Still frozen from Testosterone Shock, I gawked at her body, thinking how I was going to savor every moment with this amazingly sexy woman leaning on me wearing almost nothing.

Just as I was about to get my pants off right there in the doorway, Vanessa pops out from the living room.

She started to say, "Hey, sorry to be here, I just came by to drop off the spare key and I was overcome by our...What the fuck? Who the fuck is this bitch?"

Before either of us could respond to Vanessa, she started yelling, "I should have known! We have a fight and then you're off fucking everything in sight! Thank GOD, I finally figured out just how big of a grease ball you really are. Fuckoff and die!"

After that, she grabbed her pocketbook and stormed right by us and out the door. Hearing her car screech as it took off, I was sure the night was going to be over. Even though I knew that Kat knew about the breakup, she played dumb and tried to play it off as if it didn't matter if we hung out, married, or engaged. We started to kiss, but I just couldn't break my mind away from the incredible guilt I was feeling.

What the hell is wrong with me? I thought. You just crushed the heart of someone who loves you, regardless of what happened a week ago. What a fuckup I am.

The Makeup

Another week passed by without as much as a word from Vanessa. That old saying about not knowing what you really have until it is gone, is dead on balls accurate; for me it is anyway. The first thing that most guys really miss is the shallowest of them all: yup, sex on tap. Girls love it too, just like guys, but they experience it on a deeper level.

I am walking home from the corner deli a couple of days after the incident with Vanessa and Kat. I am torn up inside. Almost every older relative I have ever had has at least one story about the proverbial "one that got away" and I figured I would be joining the club the next time the books were open.

With that in mind, I opened my apartment door, and stepped inside. Once I closed the door, there was a surprise waiting for me. If you ever run into this situation, just think about these eleven words: be happy that you forgot to take back the spare key. There, in the hallway, stood Vanessa; she was wearing a bright-white set of bra and panties, and nothing else. She looked so AMAZING that I was stumbling over my words trying to make sense of why she was here.

"Do you like?" she said as she swung her hips a bit, lowering one shoulder and then the other. Man, I didn't have a chance of walking away from this.

"I thought I would never see you again," I said.

"Yeah, likewise, but I know that despite our differences, you are the one and only man to love me for who I really am, and not just for what I look like." She said, in a quiet but steady voice.

"Actually", I began, "that is also what makes me love you. Life without you seems dull and empty. I promise I'll change. Whatever it takes to make this work, I am willing to do. If you wanted me to do a 3-handed pushup, I would without question."

She giggled at my joke. She always laughs at my humor, sometimes she is the only one that does. Before she could mutter another word, I grabbed her gently and pulled her into me by her waist. Looking up into her magical brown eyes, I got real serious, really quick. "I'm sorry for being an asshole. That girl that was here, Kat..." and before I could finish my sentence, Vanessa cut me off. "Wait! I only have one question, well two maybe. Did you? And if you did, do you love her?"

"No, she left after you did. And no, she was a rebound thing", I assured her. She gave me a look as if she thought I was full of shit. "I swear! Really. She was in her undies because she took them off without me saying a word. After you left, she tried to get me back in the mood, but I felt guilty and asked her to leave. You want to know everything? Fine. If you hadn't shown up, then yeah I have no doubt that we would have had sex. Nevertheless, you did, and we didn't. In my opinion, fate played a huge part in that."

She nodded and was about to say something else, until I began kissing her. Her lips were warm with fresh lipstick painted on them, and already all kinds of impure thoughts raced through me, and no doubt into her. Her breath was sweet, by taste and smell, from the gum she had been chewing. I slid my hands down to her backside, up and under, and lifted her. She squeaked in joking manner when I picked her up unexpectedly. We both giggled.

She rubbed my arms as I carried her to the bed. She always loved my arms. In fact, she bought me a pair of those black forearm grips for Christmas one year. I obliged and have since gone nowhere without those grips. As a result, my forearms look like Popeye's, defined and thick. You see? Clever girl is awesome when it comes to creating what she wants. Man, I love that about her.

Laying her on the bed, I kept my hold on her, and took my shirt off. I was a little chilly at first, but when she pulled me down onto her, the warmth was inviting and comfortable. I knew what she wanted. It is what all of us really want from our lover, and she was no different. I kissed her, starting from between her breasts, and moving slowly down her body an inch at a time.

The closer I got to her pleasure spot, her anticipation and impatience increased. Slow and steady, I reached the top of her panties. She let out a quiet moan as I stroke the outside of her panties with the back of my hand. I kissed and licked all around her pussy, anywhere and everywhere except for there. I spread her bare thighs open just a bit, enough room to rub the inside of one thigh while licking the other. Her moan grew in length so much that it really became a pleasure and tension filled groan. I licked the outside of her panties, and she was looking all crazy, she was losing herself in the moment.

The more I waited and teased, the more impatient she became.

"Come on already," she beckoned "please Christian! Please just lick me there already! You're driving me insane!"

I knew what she wanted. She loved the foreplay, and delaying; we both did. Every time either of us was about to cum, we would both stop immediately before, and not have an orgasm. This took some practice, but we were both pros at it by now. The more you build up and stop, it multiplies the orgasm at the end by at least ten. We've done it before, and the orgasms at the end nearly killed both of us with pleasure.

Before she died of tension, I slid her white panties off and threw them to the ground next to the bed. Now, she was geared up even more. I wasted no time going to her pussy and, seeing she was wet, it didn't take much tongue work to get her going again. As I curled up my tongue, I slid it in and out of her, repeatedly, stroke after stroke.

Then I did the unthinkable, I put two fingers inside her while giving her head at the same time. I went inside her with them, and motioned them back and forth in a "come hither" manner. Yup, her g-spot. Once I started hitting her g-spot with consistency, she was squealing like you wouldn't believe. She was just about to cum; I could see it. So, I immediately pulled out and stopped everything. Erotic is an understatement. We were delving into the Epic. She begged me, literally begged me to finish her off. I rejected her request, stating our agreement. She always told me not to give-in when she does that. So, I didn't.

After about two more rounds of that, I commenced our trip to Blissville. Cupping and licking her sweet pussy until she came. Instead of being loud, she was rather silent. Her body explained everything though. Twisting violently and holding her breath in as she jerked and swerved in the bed, just like when you stretch in bed after waking up. Only this was much more intense. I could feel her go. I could taste it, smell it, and hear it. That lasted about 20 full seconds, a virtual marathon in orgasm terms.

I loved her, so it was just as important to me that she enjoy her experience as much as I do. I knew I had achieved my goal. She was smiling and groaning, and then she turned me over onto my back.

"Now it's your turn baby," she proposed. Of course, I didn't mind.

She had me in her mouth quickly. Her tongue and saliva were warm. Every time she caressed the head, I would twitch with excitement. She went up and down my shaft, kissing, licking, and nibbling the most sensitive areas. She was so into giving me pleasure. That kind of connection can be gotten no other way. Gradually, she sped up her up and down motion, and right as I told her, "I'm gonna cum, stop stop!" she stopped. She did this over, and over, and over, and over again.

I told her to stop and get on top of me. I was ready. She did just that. Once she was on top, she licked her hand and massaged me with it. I felt every skin cell come alive down there. My God, what could be better than this? She rubbed the tip of me along the outside of her pussy. Eventually, I was in her, and she was slowly rocking back and forth.

"Talk to me," she said "tell me you want me to cum baby. Tell me, please."

I obliged. "I want you to cum on my cock; I demand that you do it. Faster, faster!"

"Okay, I'll do it, I'll do it, I am, oh my God, here it comes again, oh my G....." she yelled as I reached the falling off point with her.

Finally, we clutched one another's head and hair as we came. I exploded inside of her. All the tension, and all the delays made my cum hotter than it ever was as I filled her. She felt that too, and loved it.

We kissed and rested in our final position for 30 minutes. I told her, "Man, that was un-fucking believable! We should fight more often!"

She laughed with me.

There is nothing, and I mean nothing, better than makeup sex.

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