A Brief Reconnection

It was years ago when she reached out to me via Facebook. She was living and working in Los Angeles and had been digging through some old things from high school when she found pictures of us together.

We dated in high school, breaking up when I left for college. She went to college for a while, joined the military, then kicked around until she found her way to civil engineering in LA. Divorced, mother of two grown children, unsure when her love life would bloom again.

I was back in Indiana, a married parent, and excited by her contact. She recalled our dates, our experiments in love, our breakup.

We stayed in touch after that initial Facebook conversation. A year or so later, she said she was coming home to see family. Could we meet and have a drink? The visit was arranged and I met her at her hotel. The years had been generous with her. Her blonde hair was nearly platinum. Her skin tanned. She'd put on a few pounds but then so had I. We spent a few hours together, having a beer downtown, driving around and revisiting old haunts, that one road where we first had sex, that other road where we rushed through love.

It was hard to leave her to return home. A sexual tension was there; it was almost palpable. But we kept our goodbye as a hug and kiss on the cheek. She'd come back, she promised.

And she did, but not before she met a man who grabbed her heart. They bought a small ranch together - he had a history with horses, and they captured her imagination. He was an exciting lover, she confessed to me, teaching her so many things about how to please him and how to pull new pleasures from him. But ...

It wasn't long before I learned about the "but...". He could be cruel, heartless even, and soon those once-hidden aspects shoved aside his more loving embraces. She needed to come home, to reground herself, if even for a bit.

We talked through all of this, and found a yearning to revisit that last hug. This time, we said, we would embrace more than each other's bodies as friends. We wanted to truly feel each other, to enjoy now what we had all those many years ago.

And so it was planned. The date was set. The location of our rendezvous determined. The commands were simple — I'd bring some wine for that Sunday afternoon tryst. She'd wear a red satin nightgown that dipped low in the front and boasted long slits along the sides.

I parked my car in such a way that bushes obscured it from the nearby roadside. It took me a few moments to push down my nervous excitement and get out, to cross the parking lot, to knock on her door.

"Come in," she said.

Sunlight spilled through the doorway behind me. There she was, her body dripping in red satin, hair pulled to one side and draped along her neck and one shoulder. Music played softly. I stood there, taking it all in, transported back more than 30 years to when I first saw her.

"Hi," she softly said and reached out a hand.

"Hi," I croaked. Embarrassed, I turned and closed the door. The room was darkened, now lit by a single dim lamp.

I set the bottle down and stood before her. She smelled of lavender and citrus. Her hair was light and smooth. Her body was warm despite the air conditioning that ran on this hot August afternoon. Under the satin, I could feel her womanly curves, curves I last felt as a nervous teen.

I bent to kiss her and she pulled my mouth to hers. All those high school kisses stolen on dark dance floors and grabbed in back seats came rushing back as our lips crushed against each other.

My hands stroked down her body, feeling it under her satin covering. She wasn't slow in seeking relief. She lift the bottom of my shirt up, pulling it up and over my head. Stroking her hands down my chest, she reached my jeans. She knelt before me, her hands deftly undoing the buttons of my 501s. My hand reaching into her platinum locks, I used her head to balance myself as she quickly pulled off my shoes, pants and underwear.

I gasped as she grabbed my hardening cock. Without preamble or discussion, she bent to the task. I knew from prior conversation that she loved to give head, and the discussions never failed to make me hard. Now, I was enjoying her oral talents.

"If you were like this back when we were dating, we'd have never broken up," I joked between moans, feeling her head bobbing up and down before me.

She stopped her task for a moment. "I know," she said. "I wish I could have done this better then." And then she bent to make up for lost time.

It had been so long since I'd experienced a quality blowjob and her skillful sucking pulled me into release.

"I'm coming," I groaned.

"In my mouth," she ordered and I complied, hold her head tight on my cock and feeling the cum jet into her willing mouth. She swallowed it all eagerly as I shuddered in pleasure, sensations dancing around my softening cock as she expertly cleaned it up.

I helped her up and turned her around. Her hair cascaded across her freckled shoulders and down her neck, which I began kissing. I caressed her shoulders and arms, moving to encircle her warm body with my arms. She tilted her head back so our cheeks touched, and my hands moved back up her arms.

I slid my thumbs under the spaghetti straps of her gown and began sliding them off her shoulders. Slowly, I guided the gown down, watching as the action exposed her back, the red lace panties that accentuated her ample ass, and her legs toned by miles of hiking California hills.

As the gown dropped, I fell with it, turning her and landing on my knees with my eyes level with her no-longer trim belly. Just above where her breasts, large and succulent, with nipples standing proud and erect. From just below, I could smell her excitement, a sweet musky aroma the lacy panties could not contain. I let the gown fall, and ran my hand up an inner thigh to lightly graze the gusset of her panties. A hint of feminine dew was there, and I knew ...

I rose again to face her, my arms encircling her, feeling her hands come to my chest, and our lips press together. I kissed my way along her jaw, her neck, her shoulders, and down to her breasts, only to nip playfully at her nipples.

She moaned and let her head fall back, even as she grasped mine to pull me closer to her breasts. Suckling and nipping, I teased her nipples and breasts while slowly lowering her to the nearby bed. I traveled down her tummy, kissing as I went, and licked along the top of her panties. Her aroma was stronger, richer, and my fingers began pulling the panty top down, exposing more and more of her shaven riches.

The panties slid off and I couldn't help but feel the moisture trapped in them. I nibbled her thighs as she lay back and spread her legs. The sight of her labial lips spreading open like a dappled flower was intense, and I moved forward with a kiss and a lick.

Her hands reached down to grasp my head as my tongue and lips tasted her sweet, tangy flavor. I alternated between deftly touching her delicate flesh with long, wide laps of my tongue, each lick attempting to bring as much of her into my mouth as possible.

A slight lick would yield a moan. A deep lick or nibble of her clit would generate a gasp and a stronger grab of my head.

Time seemed meaningless as I enjoyed her pussy. All that mattered was the work that made her shake, made her moan, made her say "Yes, yes, yes" as her juices coated my face.

Moans escalated. Her breath became ragged. Her hands held me tight against her hot, wet folds. Then a deep moan, and her body sank back onto the bed, her legs splayed as wide as she could make them.

As her orgasm subsided, she relaxed her death clench on my head. I pulled back and was greeted by a sight every man relishes — his lover's eyes closed, her head turned slightly aside, her lips apart and yet smiling, her chest heaving to capture air.

"Oh my," she said finally. "Too bad you didn't do that well in high school."

The pleasures of seeing her and her sexy jest excited me, and I pulled myself up to her.

"Just a moment," she said and deftly rolled me onto my back. She reached to one side, plucked an object from the nightstand and showed it to me.

"All my partners have to wear a condom," she said, and slid down my body. With a practiced hand, she pulled on my excited shaft and deftly slid the condom down my cock.

And then, she pulled herself back up to me, kissed me fiercely, and with her eyes locked onto mine, slowly settled herself on my cock.

The heat was exquisite. The slow envelopment bliss. Her mouth opened. Her eyes closed and my cock impaled her, inch by inch, until she rested with her full weight upon me.

"Yes," she whispered as she settled upon me and crushed her lips on mine again.

She began rolling her hips to make my cock dance in her pussy. She pulled up until just the head remained inside her, then lowered herself again, changing the angle of her body show the shaft would stroke her a little differently.

Up and down she went, eyes closed as she concentrated on the sensations. I stroked her arms and back, murmuring about how amazing she felt, how beautiful she looked as she used me to pleasure herself.

And that was exactly all that I was at the moment - a hard cock for her to use as she wanted, a cock she could direct to hit all her hidden places, a cock to help her forget everything else.

She stared down at me again as she lifted her body upright to sit fully upon me. "Does that feel good," she asked, only partially caring about what the answer might be.

"Yes," I said. "It feels wonderful."

"How about now," she responded, and began riding me harder and faster. Her breasts, so firm and pert all those years ago, now bounced a little more freely. I reached up to grab them, to massage those toys I'd played with in the past when I knew little about a girl's body. I now had a woman riding my cock, and I thumbed her hardened nipples as drove herself up and down.

Groans escaped her mouth as her riding became more intense. Suddenly, she dropped forward to rest fully on me as breath turned ragged. Her body shook and I drove my cock forward to push into her orgasm.

Her wave ebbed and I rolled her over, keeping my cock firmly ensconced within her.

"Oh," she said, surprised by the action. "Ohhh," she repeated as I began taking pleasure from her.

I sat up, grabbed her legs, and pulled them apart as I began thrusting into her. She pulled at her breasts and moaned "Yes, yes, yes" with each thrust.

"Fuck me," she commanded. "Cum for me."

It was my turn to cum and I gave a sharp thrust to push my cock as deep into her as I could reach. "Uhh, uhh," was all I could muster as cum jetted into the condom. Fortunately, conversation was needed, and she echoed me as she let my thrusts trigger another orgasm.

Slowly, we returned to earth, and I rolled off to lay beside her. She snuggled into my arms, her head on my shoulder and her fingers combing my chest hair. We lay like that for what felt like hours, enjoying the feelings over our bodies coming down from endorphin highs. I nuzzled her hair, smelling the light fruitiness of her shampoo, feeling the texture along my face. She draped one leg over one of mine, and the afternoon heat outside paled against the warmth of her body next to me.

We murmured to each other, reliving memories of our long-past relationship, toying with ideas of what might have been, giggling about the fumbling lovemaking of our youth.

And then we were done. Real life has demands, and they must be met. She had a family gathering to go to, and we snickered at the idea of what her family might think should they catch a whiff of our secret afternoon.

We rose and dressed. She was hungry, so we drove to a local drive-in for breaded tenderloin sandwiches. "They don't have these in LA," she explained, confirming she's still an Indiana girl at heart. We ate and talked in her rented car, discussing the rest of her weekend and plans to fly back to California. As we did, I marveled at the beauty she had grown into.

What if, I wondered. What if ...

We returned to her hotel and we turned to face each other again. "Thank you," we said to each other, and I parted from her after a brief but heartfelt hug. I got into my car and drove to the parking lot exit, her following behind me. It was then our lives and paths diverged - I turned left to return to my domestic life, she turned right to meet with family and, eventually, return to California.

We stayed in contact for a while. She met a man who shared her passion for diving, and our conversations lapsed. But I still treasure that one passionate afternoon, that brief reconnection with my past and the taste of what might have been.