To Wait Ten Years

Have you ever had one of those days where, no matter what you do, you just stay bored? One of those days where there is something you really want to do, but can't because it goes against your morals? Yet you know that is the only thing that will get rid of your boredom? Two days ago was one of those days for me.

When I woke up that morning, I was alone again, as I have been for the past four months. To top it off, today is my birthday. I took the whole week off from work, hoping to treat myself to ... I don't know, something fun.

My life is actually pretty good. I like my job, get paid well, get along well with my boss and colleagues. My apartment is spacious and in a green neighbourhood. It is all mine. I have a wonderful boyfriend for five years now, and I think he will soon pop the big question to me. Soon being as soon as the blasted war in Iraq is over. Four months since I had last seen him. Four months and one day since we had last made love.

It was Wednesday, my birthday, and I was bored. Rather, I had a desperate need, urge and desire that can't be fulfilled. I masturbated three times, but it just didn't do the trick for me. I need some good solid hard lovemaking. But nooooo, he had to go off to help fight a war. And the good little girl that I am, I stay faithful to him and my dildo.

So there I was later in the day, in Amsterdam, drinking coffee. Good coffee. Really good. At the same time I indulged in a generous piece of strawberry cheesecake. Who needs lunch when you can have coffee and cheesecake?

"Well, this is a small world after all. Never thought I would ever see you again."

I startled at the voice coming from my left, spilling hot coffee over my hand. Shit. Burn. When I looked up in the direction of the voice, my heart skipped a beat or two.

"Samuel? What the ... what the hell ...?"

Samuel was the big love of my life when I still lived in South Africa. Very briefly though, we lasted three months. But those three months were heaven to me. Technically he was the second love of my life. When I met him at ... now let me get this right ... my best friend's stepsister's best friend's eighteenth birthday party, I was engaged. My fiancé was not at the party. I was twenty-one, most people at the party were between seventeen and twenty-two, my fiancé was twenty-seven. No common ground.

From the minute Samuel and I just started talking at the party, he swept my feet from under me. He has a dry sense of humour, making witty comments that most people don't understand. We could talk literally about absolute nonsense for hours on end. I slipped off my engagement ring. Oh, we didn't have sex that night, the sex came two weeks later only. But we spent the whole night together, chatting, laughing, sitting in each others arms. Exchanged a kiss that felt like I was flying to the moon, swinging among the stars.

A week later my engagement was off, Samuel and I were on. My parents were heavily against it. Samuel was not white. Not completely black either. White father, black mother. My parents were quite conservative. Stick to your own kind. At the very least, your own colour.

Samuel was the first guy I had proper sex with. Oh, my fiancé and I fooled around, gave each other handjobs. No penetration. I was 'saving myself for my wedding night'. But Samuel ... screw saving, this guy made me feel like a goddamn queen. I loved him so deeply. If I had to choose between my family and him, I would have chosen him. However, he was heavy into family values and couldn't stand not being accepted by my parents. He broke off our relationship. Two weeks later I ended up in hospital with a miscarriage. I didn't even know I was pregnant. A year later he unexpectedly dropped in at my place, and only left the next morning. After that ... I never saw him again. That was ten years ago.

And now, there he was standing in front of me, ten years later and also 10,000km further away. He smiled and I could feel my legs going numb.

"Hello, Linda."

What shocked me most right at the start was the fact that he could still have such an effect on me after ten years. It felt as if someone was stirring my guts with a spoon. And stirring something much deeper than my guts too. He still had that same aura, that boyish, fun, adventurous, yet extremely laid back and intelligent glow surrounding him. Not to mention the luscious fire that radiated from his flexible body. Oh he was very flexible. Very flexible indeed.

I smiled, hoping that I looked calm, and cursed my nipples for rising from their comfortable resting place. He pulled me out of my chair and hugged me tight, gave me a quick kiss. Then he pushed me a little back and we looked at each other, laughing. His jeans were baggy, his shirt far too big for him. The way he dressed ten years ago too. He looked so relaxed as he stretched his long legs casually out in front of him. We sat down With a finger in the air he attracted the attention of a smiling waitress in a skirt so short, she might as well have walked without it.

"Double espresso and a double cappuccino, since my friend's mug is empty. And could you make me a Hawaiian sandwich too? Thank you, dear."

She was dazzled by his smile and nodded. All I could think of was how soft his lips still looked, and wondering if I look all right. I also took to dressing the way I dressed ten years ago. Faded jeans, loose dark brown shirt, hardly any make-up. My short dark hair had their ends pointing in all directions. I was not going to dress up for a relaxing enjoyable slacking day in Amsterdam.

We spent our time doing a lot of catching up small talk. He was in Amsterdam for some computer security seminar and decided to make a short holiday of it. He got married, his wife didn't come along since their baby-daughter became ill shortly before they were supposed to leave. It was so great just to talk to him again. We still made and understood each other's lame sarcastic jokes. The muscles around my lips were starting to hurt from laughing.

Three hours, a lot of cappuccinos and a shared bowl of fries ("I won't ever understand why you Dutch people put mayonnaise on fries. Give me my ketchup, dammit!") later we were exploring the streets of Amsterdam. He put his arm around my shoulder as if it is the most natural thing in the world to do. We chatted, laughed, joked, drank, hugged, and he dragged me onto one of those little boat rides through the canals. Before I knew it, it was past six already.

"Hey, there is this club not too far from my hotel. Care to go tonight? I seem to recall you and I could wipe everyone else off the dance floor." I couldn't say no, even though everyone at the club would probably be at least ten years younger than we are. I am not a great dancer. I am probably even slightly below average. But Samuel can turn the world's worst dancer into a champion. However, I was not quite dressed to go clubbing. No problem, he said, I could take a shower in his room if I needed, and who cares about what I wear.

That is Samuel. Simple, straight forward, unpretentious.

We were indeed some of the oldest on the dance floor. We had no drinks, no pills, we just danced. His hands guided me into swirling, twirling, throwing me backwards over his arm. Young adolescents cheered at us, and I felt twenty again. Shortly after midnight we stumbled out of there, hanging into each others arms, laughing. I haven't had this much fun in quite some time. We stopped in front of his hotel entrance.

"I must get to the station I suppose, attempt to get home. God ... Sam, it has been awesome to see you. I never ever would have expected to run into you here."

"Oh come on, kiddo, I still have a bottle of something in my room. Come help me finish it. If it gets too late for a train, we dial a taxi."

I shook my head, smiling, then nodded, following him in.

"All right then. But one glass only! Then I have to go. Train would be better than a taxi, I must smell terrible from all the smoke and alcohol in the club. Not to mention the sweat from dancing."

"So?" He pressed the number of his floor. "There is a shower in the room, you know. I think you have seen it. There is also a spare bathrobe hanging somewhere. If all else fails, you can crash on the bed and I will fall down onto the floor. Just give me those giant fluffy pillows. You can have a regular one."

When we entered his room, I pushed him away from me and slipped into the bathroom, locking the door.

"Showering!" I yelled. I was smelling like a pig. I stripped off my clothes and opened the taps to a nice warm 38 degrees. As I lathered my body in shower-gel, I kept smiling to myself. My hands traveled over my full breasts and lingered over my nipples. Down further they glided. I crouched just a little, spreading my legs, and washed my inner thighs. A soft gasp escaped me as the side of my thumb brushed briefly over my clitoris. I removed the showerhead from its stand and hunched down into the bathtub. Turning the tap open full and adjusting the head to produce a strong, thin stream of water, I pushed it between my legs. My eyes closed in delight as the water rushed against my labia, against my clit. I allowed this pleasure only for a short while.

Quickly I toweled dry and took a bathrobe out of the small closet. After putting on my undergarments, I covered myself properly in the robe and went out. Sam had taken off his shirt and shoes. His dark skinned body was as lean as I remembered. Not muscled. Just lean, with a little bit of softness around the waistline. Two glasses were on the table, an unopened bottle of fine red wine standing next to them.

"My turn now. Don't drink all the wine before I am finished."

While he was showering, I slowly opened the wine, poured it out into the two glasses. What the hell am I still doing here? I should have just gone home. That is it, I thought, I am calling a taxi and getting out of here. Well ... this is a rather good wine. One glass then. No ... no, Linda, go home. Go home now.

During my pondering, he finished his shower, came out in a bathrobe. I picked up the two glasses, handing him one, my insides shaking nervously, my outward appearance calm. I hoped. He took my glass out of my hand and put it together with his back on the table. Then I was in his arms, our lips tightly wound together, our tongues searching desperately for each other. My senses reeled. His kiss was passionate, his lips pure heaven. Our tongues danced together as if they never were apart.

Momentarily I came to my senses, pushing away from him.

"No ... no, Sam, we shouldn't. You ... you are married, my boyfriend is in the war ... I ..." He pulled me close, silencing me with a fierce kiss. I tried to move away again, but my own desire deceived me and instead I moved into him. When he lifted his head to catch a breath, I had tears starting in my eyes.

"Damn you, Samuel, you were the hardest breakup ever to get over..." He moaned and circled his arms around me. My robe slipped a little open. I felt his hand untie the belt holding it close, felt him slip the robe off my shoulders. Warm lips played in my neck and on my shoulder. A hand caressed my breast through my bra. The other hand was on my back, fumbling... and my bra came loose.

I threw away all caution and untied his robe. He had nothing under it. He picked me up and put me on the bed, his lips never leaving my skin. My left nipple was being entertained by his tongue. I shrieked in pleasure as I felt his fingers spread my labia apart. His thumb started massaging my clit. He was so damn good with his hands, and he only got better.

I grabbed his head in my hands and pulled him up. His hard cock rubbed against my inner thighs. I smiled at feeling that he is still fairly smooth down there. He didn't shave, he was just one lucky bastard to be blessed with not having a bush between his legs. Our lips locked, my breast was comfortably in his hand. We rolled over and he pulled me on top of him. I straddled his waist and looked down at him, his hands on my breasts. Then I lowered my head with a groan, kissing him.

I started sliding down, my lips traveling over his throat, his neck. His chest was lucky enough to receive a series of randomly placed kisses, until I reached his navel. I kissed him all around it and continued further down. His penis rested between my breasts. I wiggled my upper body, shaking him gently between my swinging soft mounds. He laughed and pushed me further down. His quivering shaft met my moist cave with the clean white stalagmites and stalactites, and the dark red slithering occupant.

I will be the first to admit I am not the world's best blowjob giver. I gag too easily. But Sam wasn't extremely large either. Having him in my mouth ... it just fit. The flat of my tongue rested against him as I moved my head up and down, pushing him a little into my throat, pulling out. My left hand slipped in under his leg and I massaged his hard nuts. When I touched them, he squirmed briefly. He felt so good in my mouth. Playfully I scraped his skin with my teeth, before I lifted my head clear of him. I took his swollen head between my lips, blowing on them softly. Then I slid down over him again, rhythmically bobbing my head up and down.

In my throat, out, tongue spiraling around him, teeth teasingly gliding over him. I held his balls and tickled them with my nails. His body tightened for a few seconds, and a few drops of pre-cum leaked out of him. Thirstily I swallowed it. Good. He still eats a lot of fruit.

Up, down, up, down, in, out, lick, swirl, nibble, tickle. His fingers grabbed the mattress and pulled the sheet off it in a cramping motion.

"Argh ... give me those lips ..."

He pulled me up. Reluctantly I let go of his wet member, joyously our lips found each other. Again we rolled over.

"Pill?"

I nodded. He entered me. He put his thumb on my clit. I gasped. I stretched my hands out above my head and clasped them together. Pushed them into the pillow. He grabbed my wrists in one hand and held them tight, making me unable to reach for him. His cock slipped in and out of me, all the time his thumb circling my clit. After all these years he still knew what I liked. My warmth surrounded him, welcomed him, wetted him.

"Do you still taste as good as you did ten years ago?"

He let go of my wrists and gave me his skew smile. His right hand fingers spread my labia further open, his left hand found the juices that were leaking out of me against his cock and spread them over my clit.

"Oh ... shit ... you tell me ..."

He began a low hum, smiling as he lowered his head and slid out of me. Continuing humming he covered his mouth over my vagina. His expert fingers pulled my labia apart so far, I felt as if he was about to pull them completely off. The humming touched me and I couldn't hold back a soft scream. I grabbed a pillow and covered my face with it. Expertly his tongue explored deep inside me, and he never stopped humming, keeping his voice low and steady. I could feel him seek and find the borders of my inner vagina. On the outside, his thumb continued to circle my clit.

Then he changed position, pushing two fingers deep inside me. Now it was his tongue's turn to wet my already streaming clit even more. He took me between his lips, pulled a little, sucked a little. I groaned loudly, the sound muffled by the pillow I still clutched to my face. He didn't stop, instead circling both fingers and tongue faster.

Deep within me I felt a roar of raw pleasure building up. The pillow flew to the side as I dug my fingers into the mattress and grabbed the sheets. He hummed louder, vibrating his sound against me. My senses exploded, red, yellow, blue lights dancing in my mind's eye. My body shook under his hands, my legs clamped around him. He laughed softly.

When I was finished shaking, he motioned me to turn around. I complied. I was barely turned when his hands pulled my lower body up. I felt him press against my slit, and enter. He moaned. Hands held onto my breasts. I lifted one hand to press against the wall, steadying myself as he pushed in and out of me. My nipples reveled between his fingers. It was a dream come true. He let go of my breasts and pushed one hand on my buttocks, supporting himself. The other he slipped underneath me to again grab hold of my clit. Faster he slammed into me.

I was soaking. I could feel myself dripping. I was being fucked like there would be no tomorrow, and I enjoyed every second of it. He kissed my back, down my spine multiple times. He lifted his head high and grabbed my hips in both hands, slamming me hard into him. I moaned out my second orgasm at the same time as he released his, filling me up. He slumped on top of me. I lowered myself carefully down straight onto the bed, making sure he doesn't slip out of me as I kept my thigh-muscles tight and my lower back hollow to lift my slit where we were connected. Just before I reached the mattress, he slipped a hand in to cup my breast. My nipple got caught between his fingers and the soft linen sheets.

We stayed like this for ... I don't know. Five minutes? Ten? Half an hour? I have lost track of time since the moment he kissed me.

Finally he slipped out of me with a soft squishing sound. He dragged me with him to the shower. We kissed again and again. With the water dripping over us, our hands glided over each others bodies. He caressed my white mounds, kissed each nipple. I rubbed my hands over his smooth bum. Then I knelt in front of him and kissed his half-erect penis. He grew.

Again I took him into my mouth, this time slow, taking my time. This was not meant to make him cum. This was just ... to enjoy. And he did enjoy. Slowly, taking a few seconds just to go down on him, and another few to come back up, I licked him clean. I lifted my head clear and just licked him off with my tongue, pretending he is a long delicious popsicle. When I unexpectedly covered him once more in my warm mouth, he rewarded me with a short yet full burst of his delicious juice. I stood up, stepped into his arms. He held me tight, his slightly erect cock pressing into my lower body.

When we stepped out of the shower, he covered me in a towel, licking my nipples before hiding them under the towel. We went to bed, dropped the towels. Spooned, him behind me. Our bodies still fit together. Gently he pulled my butt-cheeks apart.

"May I ...?" I nodded, relaxing my bum. Carefully he slipped inside my anus. I winced in brief pain. Then he wrapped his arms around me, holding a breast. We fell asleep. The clock on the TV told me it was almost 5am.

I woke up before him, somewhere around noon. I enjoyed being next to him for a while. When I finally got out of bed, he woke up and pulled me back into his arms. I looked over my shoulder at him and kissed him deeply.

"I must go home. And so must you soon."

He held me quietly for a few minutes before allowing me to go.

That was yesterday. I wonder if I have to wait another ten years for him?