Shut Up and Kiss Me, Susie

His arrival on the scene hurt me to the core. At some point in the intervening years, I had fallen totally in love with her. A love she could never fully return, as she continued to try to find her destiny.

This new relationship, combined with Sarah's persistent desire to get back to her family in Kent, made me decide not to hang around, and the time was ripe to move on.

Sue and Graham stayed together for 10 years. She and I kept in touch. I would come down to annual club dinners, or we would see each other at races, or work would bring her to London occasionally. We had something deeper and more meaningful than merely living together, which was what all that she and Graham were really achieving.

When the children did not appear, the cracks did. His business was very much hand-to-mouth, and in times when the cashflow dried up, she found herself helping him out, and she soon found that he rarely repaid her. Nor did she love him, or lust after him; sex soon became purely perfunctory, and eventually started to dry up all together.

She admitted that their relationship was failing a few years later. We were having a meal in Soho when she was working in London. I knew what was coming: we drank too much, I took her back to my hotel and we made love, gently, sweetly, looking each other in the eyes as I renewed my acquaintance with her still exquisite body.

She told me, as she always did when tipsy, that I could do anything I liked to her. The room had a twin shower with two shower heads, and I chose cunnilingus. I sat on the shower cubicle floor, as she stood over me, looking down on my subservient position, as the hot water gushed down on us and I ravaged her pussy with my mouth.

We finished the shower, dried ourselves off, and on the bed, I continued working her clitoris with my tongue; taking my time with her, relearning her own particular fecund smell, gorging myself on it, bringing her to the brink, then easing off, occasionally rimming her bottom, then sucking her vagina, then back to the clit, slowly, surely, bringing her to climax.

I was, of course, competing for a place back in her life. And I succeeded. We renewed our love affair; and despite our living hundreds of miles away, and my job taking me all over the world, we still contrived to see each other half a dozen times a year.

This doesn't seem a lot - 6 times a year, and while it was enough for me, it wasn't enough for her. For seven years more we kept up our clandestine relationship. Everyone at the club thought I had moved on, out of her life, but we met in a variety of hotels; each one better than the last. The rarity of our liaisons meant that I wanted each to be as memorable as possible. We dined at fine restaurants, and made love as exotically as my imagination and her inhibitions could take us.

Absence makes the heart grow fonder, and so my love for her deepened, despite the all too infrequent assignations. Tempted as I was, I could never leave Sarah; I could not hurt the children out of my lust or even love for another woman.

So when Sue announced that she was leaving Graham for NB1, and that we must part once and for all; I was utterly bereft. Never in my life had I felt such sadness, such emptiness, such dullness. Never a fatalist, for the first time I felt I was paying for my sins.

And so to another corny old phrase: time heals; which it did in part. On a strange rebound for a married man, Jayne and I hooked up, and she helped soothe the hurt.

A few months after the split up, Sue wrote me a short note on my 50th birthday ending with a simple "I miss you." My heart had hardened sufficiently to pick up a phone, and then write some emails, and then Skype...

*****

It took her twenty minutes to get back in front of the webcam, but it was worth the wait. She strode in front of it wearing her old polka dot dress from the party so many years ago, this time though, she wore black fully fashioned nylons and black high heels.

As she stood there, her hands on her hips, smiling at me, all I could say was:

"Wow!"

"Do you remember it?" she grinned.

"And some," I replied, in slack-jawed admiration.

"I've got a little belly now. It's a bit of a tight fit, it's a size 8 and I am now really a 10."

"Jesus you're 53, Susie, you're spectacular."

"Susie? Or is it Mrs Robinson," she giggled, as she plonked herself down on the sofa, and lifted a heel onto the coffee table so I could see a stocking top.

She started another glass of wine, and sat there smiling at me, while I rather self-consciously stroked my prick.

"I want to see you come," she smilingly insisted.

"You'll have to encourage me to do so, not just sit there and laugh at me."

At that, she got up and turned round. She slowly hitched up her dress, so I could see her gorgeous bottom. She wore stockings and suspenders, but no panties. It was a wonderful sight, reminding me of why I found her so attractive, I yearned to be there to bend her over and enter her.

"Bend over," I commanded, masturbating somewhat harder.

She spread her legs a little, and bent over, steadying herself with one hand on her comfy chair. I could see the full glory of her pussy and her little anus.

"Touch yourself."

She did as ordered, and her hand reached under, and I could see her middle finger finding and working her clit. I would have fucked the screen if it meant I could feel her.

"I need to see this," she complained after a while, and so she turned round again, and still standing up, lifted her leg on the coffee table again, and continued to frig herself.

"Show me your tits," I ordered, in a low husky voice.

She pulled down the straps of her dress, so now it just covered her midriff, and then she started massaging and squeezing her breast, while her other hand continued to move rapidly over her clit.

"I need to sit down," she complained again, and did so, placing both heels spread out on the table on either side of the laptop, which afforded me a decent view of her pussy, her breasts and her face.

"Finish me off with your words, Richard; tell me how much you want to fuck me."

"I want to come into that room, spread your legs and plunge into your cunt. I want to lick your tits, and finger your bum. I want to feel those heels digging into my arse, forcing me to fuck you harder and harder. I want to spit in your mouth and suck your tongue, and I want us to come NOW!"

The dirty words worked. I came: a huge dollop of sperm landed on my belly, and seeing this, she came too: turning her face away, biting her lip, pulling up her legs, reeling under her home made orgasm.

For a while, we sat there looking at each other.

"We are going to have to do that again," she said after she had recovered, "that was yummy."

"Why can't we do it for real," I asked, a little frustrated.

"Not now... I want to give NB1 a chance. Maybe some time in the future."

"I want to clean myself up; better sign off now," I said, disappointed by her response.

"OK, darling, speak to you soon," was her warm reply.

That brought about a wave of sadness and regret. I looked at her face, touched it on the screen:

"Susie?"

"Yes?"

"I love you."

"I love you too."