A Hot And Heavy Fling With My Ex

It was a rainy Friday night when I ran into my ex, Tara, at a dive bar on the edge of town. I’d gone there to drown my workweek in cheap whiskey, not expecting to see her—let alone feel that old spark ignite. Tara and I had dated for a wild year in our mid-20s, a blur of passion and fights that ended with her slamming my apartment door. But there she was, leaning against the bar, her short blonde hair damp from the rain, her tight leather jacket accentuating her small, perky tits. She caught my eye and smirked, like she’d been waiting for me to show up.

“Jake, you look like shit,” she said, her voice sharp but playful, sliding onto the stool next to me. Her hazel eyes glinted with that familiar mix of trouble and temptation.

“Thanks for the compliment,” I shot back, taking a sip of my drink. “You’re not looking too bad yourself.” And she wasn’t—her jeans hugged her hips, and the way she crossed her legs made my mind wander to places it shouldn’t.

We fell into easy banter, reminiscing about old times—late-night drives, stolen kisses, and the kind of sex that left us both wrecked. The bar emptied out as the night wore on, the rain pounding harder outside. Tara leaned closer, her fingers brushing my arm. “You ever miss me, Jake?” she asked, her voice low, almost daring me to lie.

“Sometimes,” I admitted, my gaze dropping to her lips. “The good parts.”

She laughed, a throaty sound that sent a jolt through me. “The good parts, huh? Like what?”

I leaned in, my voice dropping. “Like the way you’d scream my name when I had you pinned to the bed.”

Her eyes darkened, and she bit her lip. “Careful, Jake. You’re playing with fire.”

“Maybe I like getting burned,” I said, and that was it—the line was crossed. She grabbed my hand, pulling me toward the back exit. “My place is close,” she whispered. “Unless you’re scared.”

We barely made it through her apartment door before she was on me, her lips crashing into mine, all teeth and tongue. The taste of whiskey and her cherry lip gloss was intoxicating. I pushed her against the wall, my hands sliding under her jacket, feeling the heat of her skin through her thin shirt. Her small tits pressed against my chest, her nipples already hard.

“Fuck, Jake, you haven’t changed,” she gasped, her fingers tugging at my belt. I yanked her shirt off, revealing her bare breasts, small but perfect, begging to be touched. I kissed down her neck, sucking on her nipples, making her moan low and needy.

“You still like it rough?” I asked, my voice thick as I nipped at her skin.

“Try me,” she challenged, her hands shoving my jeans down. I kicked them off, my cock already straining, and she smirked, dropping to her knees. “Let’s see if you still taste as good as I remember.”

Her lips wrapped around me, taking me deep, her throat tight and warm. I groaned, my hands tangling in her hair as she worked me, her tongue swirling, her pace relentless. “Fuck, Tara, you’re too good at this,” I muttered, my hips bucking as she deepthroated me, her eyes locked on mine, daring me to lose control.

I pulled her up before I could finish, not ready for this to end. “Bedroom,” I growled, and she led me to her room, a small space with a messy bed and a nightstand drawer she opened with a grin. “Got something for you,” she said, pulling out a sleek black vibrator and a bottle of lube. My pulse spiked—she’d always been the adventurous type.

“Naughty girl,” I said, grabbing the lube as she stripped off her jeans, revealing a black thong. I pushed her onto the bed, kissing down her stomach, tugging the thong aside to tease her clit with my tongue. She was already wet, her hips arching as she moaned. “Jake, don’t fucking tease,” she gasped, her fingers gripping the sheets.

I grabbed the vibrator, turning it on low, pressing it against her clit as I licked her, the combination making her squirm. “You like that?” I asked, sliding the toy inside her, watching her eyes roll back.

“Fuck, yes,” she panted, her body trembling. “But I want more.”

I knew what she meant. Tara had always loved pushing boundaries. I slicked my fingers with lube, teasing her tight ass, working her slowly as she moaned louder, her body relaxing into my touch. “You want it here?” I asked, my voice rough, my finger circling her.

“Do it,” she begged, her voice raw. I grabbed more lube, coating myself, and eased into her, slow and careful. She gasped, her hands clutching the headboard as I moved, the tightness overwhelming. “Spread me up,” she demanded, pushing back against me.

I gave her what she wanted, thrusting deeper, the vibrator still buzzing against her clit. Her moans turned to cries, her body shaking as she came, her ass clenching around me. The sight of her, lost in pleasure, pushed me to the edge. I pulled out, moving to her chest. “I’m gonna cum on your tits,” I growled, stroking myself as she arched up, her small breasts perfect and waiting.

“Please,” she urged, her voice sultry, and I did, my release spilling across her chest as I groaned, the intensity leaving me lightheaded. She looked up at me, her lips curved in a satisfied smirk, her fingers trailing through the mess on her skin.

“Jake,” she said, catching her breath. “You’re still a fucking animal.”

I collapsed beside her, my heart pounding. “Talk about yourself,” I shot back, grinning.

We lay there, tangled in the sheets, the rain still drumming outside. “This doesn’t mean we’re back together,” she said after a while, her tone half-serious, half-teasing.

“I know,” I said, but the way she curled against me, her body warm and familiar, made me wonder. We’d always been a wildfire—burning hot, leaving ashes. But as I drifted off, her breath soft against my chest, I couldn’t help thinking I’d dive back into the flames any day.