Would You Sleep With Your Ex Again? (The Breakup, Pt. 4)
A decision had to be made.
I had just dropped Paula home and Monica was riding shotgun. We approached the next intersection and came to a red light. My blinkers weren’t on but I had to make a turn.
I just wasn’t sure which way I was going.
I could turn left and just drop Monica home. Or, I could turn right and take her up on her offer of one last night together.
The light turned green and I turned…
Right.
Let’s flashback a little…
It was New Year’s Eve and Monica and I were celebrating at a mutual friend’s house. It had been six months since our breakup and we were finally at a point where we could actually be civil towards each other.
We were off in a corner sipping Champagne when Monica set the wheels in motion with an open-ended proposition. “I want one last night,” she said, looking off into the distance.
“A night of what,” I asked, completely bewildered.
“I want to have sex one last time.”
“What?! You’re drunk.”
“No, I’m not,” she said, flatly while looking me square in my eyes. “This is only my second drink for the night. I’m totally sober.”
“But how is that supposed to work, Monica? We’re just supposed to have sex and then go our separate ways like nothing happened? Don’t you think that’ll be, you know, kinda awkward? I mean, a month ago you were cursing me out on the phone; how do we go from there to sleeping together like nothing happened?”
“You see, that’s what I love about you,” she smiled. “Most guys would just take the ass and run but you actually thought beyond the night. All I’m saying is this: I don’t know when I’ll be ready to sleep with someone again and just I wish I had known the last time was, well, the last time, so I wanted just one more night. No strings attached.”
Monica paused for a moment before taking a sip from her glass, “I’m just putting that out there,” she continued. “Think about it.”
Before I could muster up a response, Malik walked over with an newly opened bottle of Champagne. “Come on you two, it’s almost midnight,” he said, pouring bubbly into our half empty/full glasses. “The balls about to drop.”
Monica and I rejoined the rest of our friends in front of the TV set and watched as Dick Clark and all of Times Square counted down the New Year…
5…
4…
3…
2…
1…
HAPPY NEW YEARS!!!!
Flash-forward…
Monica and I walked into my bedroom. She sat down on the foot of my bed and began taking off her shoes, while I headed off to the bathroom. I returned a short while later to find her laying across the bed in nothing but her bra and panties.
I unbuckled my pants and stripped down to my boxers and wifebeater. That’s when Monica noticed my arm.
“Oh, you got a tattoo,” she said.
“Yeah, about a week ago,” I said, glancing over at my bicep. “It’s still healing.
Monica inched towards me to get a closer look, then she planted a soft kiss upon my engraved skin.
“It’s beautiful.”
The next thing I knew Monica’s gentle kiss turned to a sensual lick as her tongue traced the outlines of my tattoo. I closed my eyes to enhance the sensation as the woman who I had loved for three years licked my wounds—literally.
Monica worked her tongue across other parts of my body, eventually arriving at the waistband of my boxers, which could barely contain my Champagne-induced erection. She looked up at me with her pretty brown eyes and began tugging at boxers with her teeth. It was a short-lived game of hide and seek as Monica quickly found what she was looking for.
She took hold of me and guided my dick towards her lips, which soon engulfed me. I looked down and watched as I disappeared and reappeared in her cavernous mouth. I moved strands of her hair that was blocking my view out of the way so I could see every moment of what felt so good.
Monica’s tongue, mouth and lips continued to work their way up and down my shaft; across my balls; and around the head of my dick. The euphoric sensations traveled through my erogenous zone and to the small of my back before shooting to my scrawny chicken legs, causing my knees to buckle.
Monica knew how to push my buttons and she was pressing them all simultaneously. I wanted to explode in her mouth but if this was going to be our final night together, I wanted to give her everything. I wanted to give her long, hard dick, with deep and controlled strokes.
I grabbed Monica by the back of her neck and raised her face to mines. Uninhibited, I kissed her lips, which were softened by my pre-cum, passionately. My hands danced across her back before honing in on the hooks of her bra. One and two were released quite quickly, but I stumbled on the third before Monica swooped in to finish the task.
With her chocolate drop breasts exposed I placed Monica on her back without releasing my liplock. Once she was horizontal, I titled her head to the left so that I could tickle her ear with my tongue before whispering, “I missed you.”
“Me too,” she replied.
I worked my way down Monica’s body, as my mouth, tongue and lips frolicked in her peaks and valleys. I spent a fair amount of time suckling her breasts and nipples, paying equal attention to both so neither would feel jealous.
Then, I carved out a familiar lane for myself towards her belly button. In a game of role reversal, I tugged at her panties with my teeth. Not even my time-tested jaws could pull her lace bottoms over Monica’s curvaceous hip bones, but it was fun trying.
I hovered my face over her crotch and took in her scent of attraction. Each breath I took made me harder and I felt a small pool of pre-cum forming in my boxers. Finally, I grazed my tongue across the fabric of panties. She writhed in excitement as I did it again.
Her clit was like a unopened Blow Pop and I was willing to find out how many licks it took to get to her gooey center.
1…
2…
3…
“Stop teasing me,” Monica interjected.
If this is going to be our last time,” I said between faux licks. “I want you to enjoy every moment of this, baby.”
4…
5…
23…
I lifted my head from between Monica’s legs and slowly tugged at the sides of her panties. She willingly raised her hips so that I could more easily remove them. Once they were cast off to the side of the bed, I dove back down and submerged my tongue, my mouth, my face in to Monica’s love box.
She was moist.
I was hard.
I thought back to all the times she had given me head—including her performance just moments ago—and it turned me on even more. I wanted to return the favor. That I did tenfold until my face was drenched in Monica’s juices. Even after she had came twice in my mouth I continued until she could take no more and she finally pulled my head up from in between her luscious legs.
I stood up near the foot of the bed and removed my wifebeater, boxers and socks. 
I walked over to my nightstand and grabbed a condom from my stash. Once it was in place, I returned to an eagerly awaiting Monica.
During the course of our relationship, Monica and I had fucked just as many times as we’d made love. We were in love so the labels for what we did didn’t matter. Some nights/afternoons/mornings we both just desired a raw and aggressive exchange, and others required a more passionate and tender interaction.
Tonight was our final night together, so it wound up being a magical combination of the both.
I mounted Monica and thrust my hips towards hers with precision and care. She rolled me on my back and glided herself across my manhood like the bow of violin. Our lovemaking was musical. Our rhythms synchronized and worked its way up to a crescendo.
As Monica rode me and her ample chest heaved provocatively with each thrust, I could feel her walls tightening. It was getting good for her and she was about to erupt once more.
Her orgasm was intense as she stifled her own screams of ecstasy. I gripped her hips tightly and pushed myself deeper inside. My stomach was soaked with her juices but I could care less.
If this is going to be our last time, I wanted her to enjoy every moment of this.
I was done letting Monica have her way with me. I slapped her ass and demanded she get up. “I’m gonna hit it from the back,” I said.
Instinctively, she got on all fours and raised her ass in the air like a cat in heat. I positioned myself behind her and looked down at this magnificent view before me. With my hands firmly locked on her waist, I eased myself inside and built up momentum.
Each thrust I threw on her, she tossed back. As the motions started to get more intense, Monica looked over her shoulder with this devilish grin.
“You like that shit don’t you,” I snarled, intensifying my stroke.
Caught up in the rush of sensations, Monica couldn’t even muster the words to reply, but her mid-moan, “Uh huh,” was all the answer I needed.
The more I looked at Monica’s round ass bouncing back across my still wet stomach the more turned on I became. I could feel my nut coming on but if this is going to be our last time, I wanted Monica to enjoy every moment of this.
“I’m about to cum, baby,” I announced.
“Me too,” Monica replied.
“Can I cum, baby?”
“Yeah, you can cum, baby, this is your pussy.”
Those words turned me on even further. “Tell me I cum again, baby,” I grunted. “I like when you talk to me like that.”
“You can bust… whenever… you want, babe,” Monica said, as her back started to arch further.
I sped up my stroke and plunge deeper and harder inside of her. My penis began to swell even more until finally I exploded.
The pleasure I felt was indescribable. All I know is it took a good two minutes for my post-cum stroke to slow down to halt. I eased myself out from between Monica’s lower lips and planted gentle kisses across her lower back before reaching the nape of her neck and eventually her waiting lips.
I tossed the used condom off to the side of the bed and collapsed in the bed next to Monica. She took her familiar place in the nook of my left arm and my sped up heartbeat was her soothing lullaby.
The next morning we awoke and got dressed like nothing happened. Last night was our last time, and we both enjoyed every moment of it.
After I dropped Monica off at her house, I drove to the corner to head back home. As I approached the intersection I came to a red light. My blinkers weren’t on but I had to make a turn.
I just wasn’t sure which way I was going.
I could turn left and take the back streets home. Or, I could turn right and take the high road.
The light turned green and I turned…
I can’t remember which way I turned, but I never turned back.
Fin…for now.
Is there an ex you wish you could have slept with one last time before you broke up? Would you be bold enough to ask for one last roll in the hay with no strings attached? Do you think that most people are mature enough to have sex after a breakup and not get emotionally attached? If you knew that the next time with someone was going to be the last time would you try to lay it on them or just get your nut and scram? Do you think that when the sex starts getting mediocre that it’s a sign that the relationship is close to an end? Do you think that long-term couples have to always make love or is a good fuck session every now and again good for spicing things up?
Speak your piece…
PART 1: “The Breakup”
PART 2: “The Breakup (Prequel)”
PART 3: “Soundtrack to a Breakup”
“Would You Sleep With Your Ex Again? (The Breakup, Pt. 4)”