A Pair of Fishnets

I remember the moment I fell in love with him; it hit me like a bolt of lightning, igniting a surge through my body and leaving me singed.  In that very second everything about me changed.  I was naked except for the thigh high fishnets and black stiletto’s, I had a fist full of cock in my hand and the ceiling fan was doing its best to put out the flames inside of me.  

My life literally flashed before my eyes as if I had just experienced some inescapable trauma and the only thing I could see was him.  Everything else was pointless and didn’t matter.  My job was now just a means to an end even though it had been my life’s passion and even more importantly; my body was now his.  He could have it at will and do with it as he pleased as long as he let me love him.

That surge of lightning ran though my body took over my being and ran straight through my fingertips to his hard cock.  I was desperate to satisfy his insatiable appetite for my sex and wrapped my lips around his length.  I watched him as he stared at me and I knew the exact moment when the bolt of lightning had reached his eyes.  He knew.  

I stopped and we locked our stares together, “I love you,” I said plainly and without expectation of hearing anything in reply.

He shifted his weight and took control, flipped me to my back and drove himself deep into my pussy fast and hard.  It took me by surprise but I held on as we kept our gazes together; his cool blue eyes were like melting ice in the hot summer sun.  His body erupted inside of me and he curled down on top, exhausted from the sudden change in energy. 

“I love you too,” he whispered into my ear.

I had a feeling of re-birth, completely opposite to the consuming feelings I’d had when I realized I couldn’t live without him.  I was alive again, whole and confident, still his in every way but now as a partner of love not just an admirer in love.  It was freeing and exciting, something I couldn’t read in a book or see in a movie; it was my page to write and my scene to direct straight from my heart and not the literary crossroads of someone's muddled experiences. 

I look back on it now and think how much the whole experience seemed completely out-of body but I wouldn’t change it for the world.  Of course it’s one of those moments we tend to keep to ourselves as not many people really need the steamy details of how we first expressed our love and who said it first.  On the other hand, it would make a great line in the best man’s speech if weren’t for the fact that my grandmother would know I owned a pair of thigh high fishnet sex stalking’s.