And it Only Gets Better

Authors note -- here's a romantic one for ya. As they say, 'this one's for the ladies'. It may be too flowery or pukey for some. Don't say I didn't warn you.

* * * * *

It had been almost four whole years since he had seen her. He noticed her long before she noticed him. Which was a good thing, seeing as how he had no idea how she would react. It had been a long time. Maybe too long.

Definitely too long, he thought as he approached her across the restaurant. He thought she was sitting alone, but as he got closer he saw another plate across from her, and at her side a baby basket. She cooed at the androgynous infant, pursing her purple-tinged lips and fluttering her lashes.

He grabbed a seat, sitting still and knowing she wouldn't notice him. He watched her with the child, and felt something old and familiar kicking around inside his chest. Her hair was much longer now, red and silky smooth and hanging down over her shoulders. She still had the same freckles, meaning she would always have a youngish look to her.

The girl he had broken up with was now a woman with a baby, and whatever it was he was feeling rolled over into nervousness. Could he even talk to her? What would he say?

Another woman approached the table. She picked up the baby basket, kissed her friend on the cheek, and left money for the bill. She had to go, she said. He rubbed his hands together under the table, and watched the second woman leave.

His former girlfriend was rifling through her purse, preparing to leave. He dove into the moment and slid into the booth across from her.

"Hi," he smiled a genuine smile, something he hadn't felt in a long time.

"Oh," she replied, dropping her purse. "I… well, isn't this just… hi yourself, stranger."

"They don't come much stranger than me," he said, falling back on a line he used to use back when he knew her. "It's great to see you."

"Yeah," she nodded slowly, as if she was still deciding. "Yes, it's good to see you too." She nodded her head a little faster.

The contents of her purse had spilled out across the table. He helped her pick them all up, pausing to wipe ketchup off of a calculator. As he cleaned, he saw that the goop had gotten into the keypad.

"I think it's broken," he said to her, and helped her finish up.

"I mostly just use it to calculate tips, anyway," she shrugged, tossing it into the glass ashtray. "I'm going, actually. Can't stay too much longer."

"That's too bad," he said to her. A moment of clarity came over him then, as he realized if she walked out he might not see her again. That was quickly followed by a sinking feeling, and the knowledge that he couldn't let that happen. "Seeing you here makes me remember how much I've missed you, babe."

"Don't call me that," she said, standing up. But her cheeks her touched with color, pink fading into red. "That was a long time ago. I'm with someone now."

"Married? Kids?"

"No. No."

"It wasn't that long ago."

She turned to go.

"Wait," he said, more sharply than he would have liked. "You mean you never think of me?"

"It's not that. It's just…"

"Listen, babe," I said, pressing a piece of paper into her hand. "I'm here for a couple more days, then I'm going back home. Out of town. You don't want to see me, that's your call. But if you do, then I would really like to see you, too. So, think about it, okay?"

She left, taking his note with her.

He was lying on the queen-sized bed, naked save his hideous green boxer shorts, watching bad porno movies on the hotel PPV channel. He touched himself, watching the women on the screen but thinking about the woman from his past. The stroking grew faster and more furious, and he slowly began to tune out the tv altogether.

And then the phone rang.

He knew it was her before he picked it up.

"Hi, babe," he answered.

"You cocky son of a bitch," she laughed. "How did you know it was me?"

"Because I'm a cocky son of a bitch. In the good way."

She laughed again.

"Are you busy tonight?" she asked him.

"I'm hoping to be."

"What's going on?"

"I'm hoping you'll come over, and then I'll be busy catching up with you."

"Catching up? Is that what you call it now?"

"Funny girl. I'm not that easy, you know," he played coy. She was the only woman I could ever play coy with.

"Bullshit," she said. "What room are you in?"

He told her. She said it would take her an hour to get there. He said make it two.

She knocked softly on the door. Cautiously.

"Hold on a sec, babe," he called out, and took a last look around the room. He had gotten a lot done in two hours;

Eighty unscented votive candles blazed from every available flat surface. The pale aqua walls of the hotel fluttered in the flickering candlelight, looking very much like thick panes of glass holding back a flood of seawater. All the candle flames made the room a little warm, so he had adjusted the air conditioner. The blast of the air made the flames dance and jump all the more. He looked at his bare chest in the mirror and saw the shadows drifting across it. He smiled – he always did look better in shadow.

He opened the door for her, now naked save for a pair of light, thin silk boxers. They were dark, deep red, and looked good against the paleness of his thighs.

She stood with her hands in front of her bosom. Her jaw stopped just short of dropping when she saw him, all but nude, smelling of soap and smoke, surrounded by a sea of flickering candle light.

"My lady," he said, taking her hand and pulling her into the room. Her fingers were cold as ice, his were hot. He took the coat from her back and hung it up. Underneath she wore a simple black dress, low cut. Her gorgeous red hair was pulled up onto the back of her head.

"All this for me?" she asked, her voice cracking just a bit. She pointed to the bed, which he had stripped down to the white sheets and covered with rose petals. The floor surrounding the bed was lightly dusted with petals of other kinds of flowers. She kicked off her shoes and walked barefoot across the flowers; they were slightly cool, and soft against her skin.

"All this for you, babe," he said. He popped a bottle of wine, and poured out two glasses. Actual glasses bought from the same place he got the candles – he couldn't bear to drink wine out of plastic motel cups. "I figure, why not make this into something special. Something we can remember for the rest of our days."

"This is too much," she shook her head. "I didn't want it to be a big deal. I've just been thinking about you, and my boyfriend has been…"

"Ssshhhh," he said, touching her lips with his own. Not a deep kiss, just a tease. Just enough to calm her. "That's tomorrow. This isn't too much. This is going to be the one perfect night we always wanted together. Tomorrow you can go back to your life and your problems, and I won't stop you.

"But for now, just be with me."

She fell into his kiss. He slipped the dress up and over her head in one quick movement, leaving her in only her bright red panties. Their torsos pushed together, skin rubbing against skin, and they stood and felt each other and kissed for longer than either of them could keep track of. Finally, he broke it off and handed her a wineglass.

She sat down on the edge of the bed and drank. He stood, watching her body, watching the firelight in her eyes. She reached up and pulled the red bow out of her hair, letting it fall free around her shoulders. It framed her face perfectly, bangs teasing it around her rosy cheeks.

"God you're sexy," he said. He tossed back the rest of the wine. "I brought chocolate, but if you don't mind I'd rather start with something sweeter."

He took the glass from her hand and set it down gently, and then just as gently pushed her onto her back. She looked up at him, light and dark swaying across her breasts, rose petals digging into her hair, and let out a deep sigh.

She closed her eyes and made a soft, beautiful noise deep in her throat as he lifted up her ankles and spread them gently. He got on his knees beside the bed and kissed his way up; her smooth ankles to her soft calves to her creamy thighs and then to her panty-clad cunt.

She was wet and hot through the fabric. He kissed it. She wriggled.

"What do you want to bet I give you the best head you've ever had?"

"What do you want if you win?"

"You sleep here with me tonight."

"That's it?"

"And blow me in the morning."

She laughed again. It was true and real, and made him hungry for her; not the physical, but hungry for her soul and her mind. Hungry to make her his once again.

"Okay, you're on. But this had better be good."

"Oh," he said with a crooked grin, "It will be better than that."

He grabbed the waistband of her panties and flexed his muscular hands. The fabric snapped and tore, and he ripped them free and tossed them aside. She was panting for it, and he kissed both her thighs again, before licking his way up into her, inside her.

Her fingers dug into the sheets, pulling the corners free of the mattress, as he suckled at her swollen clit and lapped at the juices pouring from inside her. She was soft and pink and flushed with excitement. Her pubic hair had been trimmed back to a nice, small patch just over her cunt. He put his hands on her outer hips and jerked her forward, as if trying to pull her more deeply into his mouth.

She moaned and writhed as he worked. The clit down to the pussy, and back up. After he figured she was properly warmed up, and slipped two fingers into her cunt. They went into easy, up to the knuckle, and she grunted as he brushed her G spot. He remembered how she liked it. He remembered her body better than he knew he could.

Taking her clit, sucking it and working it with his tongue, he finger fucked her, hitting her spot in perfect rhythm to the flicking of her rosebud. He knew it wouldn't take too long now. He knew just how she liked it.

"Oh god, oh baby, oh babyyyyyyyyy," she cried, and it rose and broke and turned into an orgasmic scream. He kept on, working it harder and faster, and made her come again.

She shuddered and shook, pulling her legs up to her chest and trying to get her breath back. He went into the bathroom and washed her juice off his face, then touched up with a little cologne.

When he came back out, she was laying with her head propped up on one hand. Her face was halfway hidden behind a tumble of hair laced with roses. He was naked. He saw her eyes looking him up and down.

"And it only gets better, sugar," he murmured, going to her.

Seeing her, watching her, tasting her again, had his cock thick and engorged. He was well hung, not superhuman, but with enough girth to make it look impressive. The way she looked at it, she hadn't had one that big in a long while.

"You know it does," she replied, reaching up and grabbing his thick shaft and pulling him gently onto the bed. "You'll get your blowjob, but not now. Now you fuck me."

"Oh yes, now I fuck you," he grunted, his breath now heavy and predatory in his throat. He saw her, he wanted her, and he wanted nothing else.

He grabbed a handful of her hair and pulled it taut, pulling her head and back and her mouth open. He licked her lips and slipped his tongue into her mouth. He used his knees to push her thighs apart, and teased the end of his thick, purple cockhead against her glistening cunt lips.

She laced her hands together, and he pinned them against the bed over her head. She writhed under him. He slid into her slowly, just an inch at a time, then pulled back out to start teasing all over again. She went wild with anticipation, groaning and grunting whenever he pushed in, whining when he pulled away.

Finally, when she was ripe for the plucking, he thrust his hips forward and slid all the way in, up to the hilt. She screamed in pleasure, and pulled against his hand. With his other hand he stroked her cheek, running his thumb along her smooth face, and began to establish a nice, hard, fast rhythm with her.

They bucked. They rolled over, and she held his hands down for a few minutes and rode him savagely. He then pushed her back, and they fucked sitting up, her sitting cross-legged on his lap. They he pushed her back, rolled her onto her side, and put her ankle behind his neck. This was a new position for her, and she was ecstatic. Her head buzzed from the sensations; the touch, the smell, the fire, the slickness of their skins.

He grabbed a big handful of her ass and plowed into her. She pulled her other knee up to her chest so he could go even deeper. She reached up and clawed at his chest, pinching at his nipples. He reached down and did likewise.

"Oh, fuck yeah, baby," she growled. "You feel so fucking good."

Her touch, her voice, her slippery cunt, all combined to push him over the edge. He threw his head back and moaned grunted half-shouted as the orgasm took him and he flooded her cunt with his seed.

"Holy Christ," he said, falling over and back to lie down at her side. "That was fucking fabulous. "

"No," she said, kissing him, " that was fabulous fucking."

She got up, went to the bathroom and cleaned up. When she came back, naked with her hair tied back up, she had two lit cigarettes with her. He sat the glass ashtray on his chest, and she lied down next to him, and they smoked and touched each other.

They talked and smoked and fucked again. The votive candles went out one or two at a time, and after a while they lay in the darkness, his arms around her, her face nestled against his chest. It reminded them both of the first night they had spent together. But it was better, somehow. Much, much better.

And for that moment, for that night, everything was perfect.