Seven Years

Seven years.

Seven years since our paths had crossed and we had stopped ourselves short of having a tumultous, passionate affair. The chemistry between had been tangible, almost measurable. We ended it before it consumed us both. She had been young, innocent, and passionate. I had been married at the time. Now, years later, she took a train from her home in Missouri and now stood before me at the train station.

We didn’t want words. We had said enough in the weeks before; in our emails, IMs, phone conversations that led up to this point. No words. I could see some mild uncertainty on her face, not knowing if we should just hug or speak. I kissed her. I could feel the intake of breath through her nose. She had been hoping for this. The kiss lingered and grew less and less restrained. Her hand behind my head, mine on her neck. I had started the kiss but she was pulling me deeper. Bliss.

We stopped before we drew an audience. I took her bag and put it into the trunk of the car. We kissed again, each wanting to be sure that this moment had finally come. Eventually, we drew apart and entered the car. My hands were shaking. Nothing noticable, but I could feel it. I was beginning to realize just how badly I had wanted to see this wondrous woman.

We stopped for dinner. I opened her car door for her and helped her out. “Legs up to here” was the expression and she wore them well. I should mention here that Ann is a very tall woman, just an inch shorter than myself. I had had cause to forget how pleasant it can be to kiss a woman without bending. Dinner was, frankly, irrelevant. We had said all there was to say and now we just wanted to be in each other’s company.

Her eyes. I can’t believe how enveloping her eyes are.

Somewhere in the blur that followed, we arrived at my apartment. I take Ann’s face in my hands and bring my lips to hers. Warm, moist, full. We roll about on the bed, hands roaming, lips whispering instructions directly to our flesh.

My hand needs to slide across her back and moves under her blouse. After a few minutes, one of us decides it is in the way and it slides off, barely noticed. A slip follows it. She unbuttons my shirt and lets her hands massage my chest. God, how I had missed this. This excitement, this adventure.

I remove her bra slowly, keeping eye contact and draw her close to feel her skin upon mine. She is somewhat shy and I do not wish to provoke any self-consciousness. Her breasts are full and large, more than I was used to, but happy to adapt. I marvel at their firmness and thrill at her responses to my touch. I give them due attention and then include them in the symphony I am composing on her skin.

Somehow, we have lost the last threads of clothing. She lies on her back, her hands behind my head, ever kissing. With one hand behind her, I move my other between her breasts, down her stomach. I find, eventually, her fine hair beneath my fingertips. A little further and I find moisture. She is receptive and opens her legs to encourage my touches.

I stroke her gently, almost absent-mindedly at first, then with more purpose. Nails take purchase on my neck, her kisses become shorter and more gasping. I smile inwardly, knowing that Ann has never allowed another man to bring her this much pleasure. I thank the gods for this honour.

She is approaching her climax, her face contorting slightly into a slight sneer. Adorable. However, she needs more and breaks the kiss to ask me “to give her oral sex.” Her lack of vocabulary is so refreshing that it gives me a pang of regret that I have as much experience as I do. I wish, for a moment, that we could both be virgins and that I could be giving her now as much as she gives me.

I move lower down her body, not wanting to rush too much but anxious to satisfy her. As I move, I place one hand under her buttocks and give her a playful squeeze. I am well rewarded by her moan of pleasure and, once again, I am stunned at how much she is allowing herself to be free here.

Ann is a paradox, having almost no flavour yet being delicious simultaneously. I allow her moans to conduct the motion of my tongue. Wanting this to be as good as possible for her, I move her hands to my head so that she feels free to influence my movements. More quickly than I have ever seen, she is there. Her cries are short and clear, and I worry for a second about my neighbours but, at this moment, I wouldn’t want to quieten her for the world. I am unfamiliar with her in these moments and wish to prolong the sensations for her. I give her more playful licks after the first wave seems to have passed. She responds at first but, after a minute, pulls me up to her.

We kiss again. Sweet nothings. Smiles. We talk like old friends and new lovers.

Shortly, we resume. She asks for me to lick her again and I am happy to submit to the request. I give her ass a little more attention while I am there. Her orgasm is again quick and a joy to watch.

We scissor our legs together afterwards and I am pressed against her, our crotches rubbing together. We are keeping Ann’s virginity intact and I am finding it easier than I’d feared. As much as I would love to make love to her right now, I am content with the proximity.

We continue in the afterglow, kissing, rubbing, loving. My hand reaches around to her buttocks again and she moans into my mouth. I can’t help but smile. I feel some of her juices and my saliva has trickled between her cheeks and I rub it into her flesh there. My fingers tickle past her back entrance and she moans sharply. I pause briefly in surprise but resume kissing her, still rubbing around. Again, I move my fingers along and another moan confirms her pleasure at the touch. I linger there.

I rim a finger along the entrance, dipping ever so slightly. I am tentative. My experience here is limited and frought with failure. Her response is entirely unforeseen. Will this woman never fail to surprise me?

Using the extra juices, I begin a slow and shallow penetration of her, my heart pounding. Her body begins to move with the rhythm, giving more license. I move myself a little closer, pressing myself against her. Taking myself in hand, I rub myself against her opening. Her hand behind my head takes grip on my hair, fingers entwining. Her tongue penetrates my mouth deeply and with insistence.

I finally ask Ann, “Are you sure?” She nods quickly and kisses me again, fucking my mouth with her tongue. She is very moist there but I know that more lubrication will be necessary. I can’t help but take a moment to let myself enter her. Gripping myself firmly, I place the tip at her entrance and prepare to gently push. My efforts are almost unnecessary as she does as much pushing against me as I do her. She wants this, too, and I have another out-of-body experience as I catch my breath.

More quickly than I would have thought possible, I am half inside her. Limited partly by angle and knowing more lube will be needed, I stop here and just savour the moment. It is unlike anything I’ve ever felt before. A delicious tightness that threatens to force the blood within me to retreat back to my body; a warmth that might parallel that of her kissing lips; a willingness that magnifies it all the more.

I retreat temporarily while I settle on finding my baby oil. I know there are better substances for this, but I am unprepared. I position myself, straddling one of her legs with her mostly on her back. After applying the oil to myself generously, I massage some into her. I pause before continuing to share a smile. We are ready.

I enter her even more easily than I did the first time. Unbelievable. Her head rolls a little on the pillow as I move gently into her. The angle is more forgiving now and I am soon buried deep inside my lover’s body. I lean in so that I
can kiss her and to give her more time to fully relax herself.

I begin to move. Slowl
y at first, but firmly. No words are said but the communication is clear. I move one hand and gently play with one breast, and the other rubbing her lower back and ass cheeks. I stop every few minutes to apply a few more drops of oil. After one reapplication, Ann rolls on top. She’s fantastic. I try to reach down between us to rub her clitoris. The angle is awkward but it seems to be working. She moves herself on my length, eyes closed, as she says, “This is for you, John. This is for you.”

We roll over one more time with me on top, between her legs. Until she is ready to give her virginity away, this is as close as we will come. I pump into her smoothly, with the force on the exit stroke. I seem to remember this much from what I’ve read, and it seems to be well received. There is no look of discomfort on her face, only her ‘sex sneer’ as her orgasm approaches. Her hand snakes between us and she takes over stimulating herself while my hands are otherwise occupied. Her confidence in this moment is endearing. I would love to stop and watch her, but I can tell that we are both approaching our points.

I pound steadily into her and she pushes herself back against me. So mutual, so perfect. I try to go just a little deeper as she seems to get closer and closer, and the extra second of friction keeps me even with her. I sit up a little so that I can get better leverage and allow myself to enjoy the spectacular view. Her breasts jostle gently in time as we make love to each other; her hand rubbing her clit at a near fevered pitch but still reaching down to touch me where I enter her. Her eyes are closed most of the time but opening now and then to twinkle at me and show me her gorgeous smile.

Ann is trying to keep her eyes open but she can’t. Her beautiful sneer is more pronounced now and I think I’m clearly seeing a pattern here. She moves her hand away as my motions against her are doing just enough to complete her orgasm. I keep one hand on her breast and the other gripping her elevated leg around the thigh, pulling me deeply into her. She starts to voice her orgasm and I give myself the last few long, deep strokes that I need to finish with her. She cums with a stifled scream and I roar along with her as I spill my seed into her clenching ass. I collapse onto her and we stay connected for as long as we can manage.

————————————————————

Names and places have been changed.
This was the most frenetic we reached in bed over “Ann’s” few days with me. We slept together all four nights that she was with me and while passion never left, it took a backseat to sheer intimacy. She went back to Missouri after and she hopes to visit me again at the end of July. Between now and then, I might consider putting some fantasies of mine (ours?) into text and submitting them.
I welcome any and all feedback. If anybody is wondering about my word choices, I wrote it first and foremost for “Ann” to read.

VN:F [1.9.22_1171]
Rating: 5.0/10 (1 vote cast)
VN:F [1.9.22_1171]
Rating: 0 (from 0 votes)
Seven Years, 5.0 out of 10 based on 1 rating

No Responses to “Seven Years”

  1. man of the south says:

    i liked o word usage boss. It probly made your gal feel real good.

    VA:F [1.9.22_1171]
    Rating: 0.0/5 (0 votes cast)
    VA:F [1.9.22_1171]
    Rating: 0 (from 0 votes)

Leave a Reply