Infediality in Transit with the “Worship Man”

I met my “Worship Pussy Man” again after years the man who once looked at me as if devotion itself had taken human form.

Time had moved on, lives had shifted, but fate it seemed, was not done with us.

My Indigo flight had an unexpected layover in his city. Casually, almost carelessly, I told him I’d be there for a day or so.

“Just a few hours,” he said.

I agreed because I wanted to.

He came to the airport to pick me up. Waited for over an hour, actually just so I wouldn’t have to wait even a minute. He wanted that time entirely to himself. I knew this because of the fine he paid, and I told myself to stay calm.

But the moment I saw him standing there that familiar smile softened by time. I knew nothing about this was going to be just anything.

We hugged. Slow. Tight. Unrushed.

And suddenly, the years collapsed into themselves. The air felt the same. My heart remembered his rhythm before my mind could intervene. Nostalgia didn’t knock it surged.

He drove me through the city like we were tourists wandering through our own past. Streets glowed under warm lights, conversations floated between laughter and silences weighted with meaning. Every accidental brush of his arm sent a quiet shiver through me. He watched me the way he always had as if I were something rare, something he still couldn’t believe he was allowed to touch again.

I could not resist either, I kept glancing at him, gliding my fingers on the nape of his neck and playing with his hair.

Well he just then pulled over and kissed.

It wasnt enough. We went to the back seat and I melted in his mouth. His soft lips were all over me. His juicy to gue gave me sparks like before. I wasnt able to handle it and I pressed him more and we smooched to cover the years of being apart.

He then lifted my top and sucked my boobies, I am a lactating mommy and I felt so good to have my fantasy being real

I wanted him to go more deeper.

I could see the hunger for me in his eyes and we just did not stop.

This is dangerous, not as a warning, but as a truth and that has made it intoxicating

When the time came to leave, we got quiet, foreheads touching, fingers still entwined. The soft last kisses all over my face. The delay ended. Reality returned.

But something had shifted forever.

He drove seven hundred miles for a few stolen hours.

And I carried them with me long after the flight finally took off.