Catchup

It had been some time since I'd seen H, and as ever when I saw her walk in I couldn't help but smile.

We'd been an item some time ago, and although we'd gone our own ways we'd remained civil and in touch. She was now living and working in the same town as me again, so we decided to meet up for a late lunch one Friday afternoon to catch up.

She walked over to where I was sitting, and flashing me a smile, sat down primly. Her smile took me back, opened memories I'd forgotten, moments we'd shared. Clearly this wasn't going to be as easy for me as I'd thought.

We both studied the menu, and ordered a bottle of white wine to share - something we'd always done, ever since our first date. I saw her eyes linger on the bottle, and wondered if she was thinking the same as me.

The moment passed, and we started discussing what we'd order, what we'd heard about the place, and how long we thought it'd take to arrive. Back when we were dating, it'd become a game, and as though we hadn't been apart we started playing again, making up prizes and forfeits. This was brought to an abrupt halt when the food arrived, much to my disappointment, and for a moment I thought I could see the same on her face.

Over food we chatted, not really paying attention to what we were eating or drinking, but enjoying one another's company. Conversation started with a filling in of our recent pasts (she'd been working out of the country, I'd been on the coast) and later moved to relationships. I hesitated when she asked if I'd been seeing anybody, and reading me like a book took the initiative and told me about hers. I didn't really listen; I was studying her face like I'd not seen it before. Her dark brown eyes, always so encompassing, seemed to draw me in like they had the first time we'd met. Her hair was a vibrant shade of red, and her lips almost seemed to be soundless as they moved. She seemed to know I wasn't listening, and cocked her head to one side as if questioning my sudden intense stare. Flustered, I apologized clumsily and this made her laugh -- a genuine deep laugh, full of humour. "You always used to have that look when you were listening to me talk" she gently chided me, before prompting me to tell her what I'd been doing.

Since her I had been with a couple of people, but nothing significant. I was vague with the details and I could see my evasion made her uncomfortable, so I suggested we pay up and go elsewhere to drink. She agreed, we paid up and left, the normal payment game forgotten in the sudden downturn of our conversation. I helped her put her coat on and smelt her hair as I did so; unintentionally but immensely arousing at the same time. I felt guilty for having these feelings after so long apart.

We walked toward a bar that we'd always been to after eating here, not saying much, and mostly staring at our feet. Occasionally there were looks, fleeting glances between us, that left us both a little more uncertain why we were even doing this again. I couldn't help but feel pleased, having her beside me always made me proud to be with her. In heels she was six feet tall, and with a physique models wanted. She was simply stunning; and had always had me captivated since we first met.

We arrived, ordered a bottle on ice and a couple of glasses and went to sit down. It was still early enough that we could find decent seats, out of the way of where the people would walk all night giving us the sort of privacy that a public catchup shouldn't need.. yet felt needed.

All at once, we both seemed to let go of our reservations. As I'd been so evasive, I told her everything, about why I'd left her, the time I'd spent working, trying to get over her and finally convincing myself I'd done so. She in turn said the same, unable to meet my eyes as she did so. By now, things were strained, and I thought she was going to leave. To my surprise -- and pleasure -- she didn't, and asked if I had plans for the rest of the evening. I had intended to spend the evening in a bar with some friends, hoping to meet somebody worth meeting...and here I was with somebody who fitted that bill rather nicely.

With the "confessions" out of the way, things lightened up considerably. The flirtation came back, almost without noticing -- much like an early date. Private jokes were revisited, inappropriate moments were reminisced over. It was as though we'd never been apart. Her eyes said the same to me, and she stared at me just a moment too long for it to be an accident. I wanted her, now, and she knew it. She gave no indication that she felt the same, and as such I held the suggestions off for fear of rejection. An evening as nice as this should never be tarnished with such a moment, and it remained unspoken, unmentioned.

The evening wore on, until we decided that we'd had enough and should go home. Neither of us wanted to let the evening end, but with the past caught up, we decided it might be good to end before something inappropriate happened.

We headed outside, waiting to hail a taxi, and said our goodbyes. As the taxi pulled up, we hugged and held on too long. We looked at one another, and knew where it was going. It may not have been a good idea, but in that moment, we needed each other. We jumped in, and she gave the driver her address. We sat there in near silence, the only words being her directions for the driver, and soon we arrived.

I paid the driver while she fumbled through her bag for her keys, and she opened the door as I got up the stairs. We walked through the door, and she closed it. Turning to face me, I put one arm round her waist and the other behind her head and kissed her, a lingering kiss, like I'd never get to kiss her again. She responded in type, and her hands began working my jacket off, then my shirt. I followed suit, dropping hers to the floor as we moved toward her lounge. Half dressed now I looked at her, stopped tearing at her clothes and slowly unbuttoned her blouse, looking into her eyes as I did so. I could feel her chest rising and falling quickly, the heat from her body, and she held me against her and kissed me again as I undid the last button, peeling her blouse off. Seeing her breasts strained against her bra I could feel myself getting harder and harder, needing to have her and soon. I backed her to the sofa, and as she went to remove her shoes I pushed her backwards, falling onto the sofa with a playful scream. I dropped between her legs as she did so and grinned at her as I removed her thong, again, eyes locked together, as though admitting this was happening would cause it to end. With them removed she lay back, and parted her thighs a little, allowing me to dip my head between her legs.

Despite myself, I slowed down again, and put the flat of my tongue against her and licked once, slowly, tasting her juices on me. Her soft moan, the additional juices even as I did so, the fact it felt so wrong just made the moment so much sweeter, and I repeated the movement, a little faster, and lingered on her clit as I did so. Her hands found the back of my hair and she held me against her, demanding more, which I obliged. Again and again I licked her greedily, unable to stop even if I wanted to. Her moans were rising, and her grip strengthened as I continued to lick her, again and again. I realizedshe was at the edge, as I backed off, to prolong the moment. She had other ideas and held me again, not letting me stop. As if I would! I felt her orgasm come in waves, until her moans were screams against her bitten lip, her thighs and hands and nails all gripping me, giving me no choice but to do as I was bid.

I slowed, not wanting her to become oversensitive, and she responded by pulling my face to hers. As she did so, I loosened and removed my trousers and boxers, releasing my strain, and being incredibly hard. She pulled me up her body, kissing me. Holding my head in one hand and my cock in the other, she managed to put the tip of me inside her. I didn't need a second instruction and slid deep inside her, to an indrawn breath and legs wrapped round me tightly. Only when I tried to withdraw and slide in again did I realized she was unable to move, as she was orgasming again. Her mouth pressed into the sinew of my shoulder, she couldn't do anything but dig into me and soundlessly scream into me. I slowly began to work myself free of her, and to ease in and out of her again. Her face, so perfect, was now staring at me in an expression of lust and abandonment. I thrust into her, less gently each time, feeling her tense and moan with each motion, given to the moment. She then pulled me into her, and threw us onto the floor. With her astride me now, I couldn't help but chuckle at how overdressed she was. Noticing this, she smiled, and reached back, removing her bra. She looked at her skirt, and her heels, then, smiling, looked me in the eye, and sat up straight on top of me. Gently she sat up, and lowered herself onto me, taking every last bit of me into her, biting her lip as she took the end of the length. I could see her juices running down my shaft and over me, and she began to quite simply fuck me, hard, and fast. In no time at all she began to come again, her nails digging into my chest as though trying to tear her pleasure into, and out of, me.

She knew what this did to me; as soon as she dug in my control left me, and with that I felt myself buck and explode into her. This set her off again, as it always had done, and we both lay there, unable to move, think or even breathe for several moments. Finally, she stopped tensing, as did I, and the reality of what had happened set in. It wasn't a sad realization, but a moment of such perfect understanding and acceptance, we only had to look at one another to know this was the beginning of what should never have ended. Giggling, we held one another, and enjoyed the afterglow. I was fairly sure this weekend was going to be one of the best we'd ever had, and it had only just begun.