An Anglers Tail: Micki’s Memory

This is a continuation of a previous storyline, however, this piece can stand alone. It is told from a her perspective rather than his and has less of the backstory.

An Anglers Tail: Micki's Memory

Micki was sitting in her living room, icing her knee because she had put some strain on it the day before. She closed her eyes and remembered their time together. She had been pleased that Peter had been so chatty on the drive to the trailhead after picking her up in town, she usually had to ask questions to get him to reveal any information about himself. This had felt different to her almost at once. She had just chalked it up to the fact that although they had been texting again regularly for the past month, they hadn't set eyes on each other for at least four months.

God he had looked good when she had first seen him again, she had been starting to think he wasn't going to show up because she was waiting for ten minutes before she saw his truck pull around the corner. She had wanted to hug him, but wasn't sure how that would be received, he was married, and had always maintained a strict distance with her in public. Her heart had fluttered erratically in her chest as she had climbed into the cab and fastened her seatbelt with shaking hands. She knew now that the pull he had on her was even stronger in person. Knowing also that she was completely in love with him, right or wrong, and that she was helpless to resist his pull on her.

She thought about all of the conversational topics they had covered on the hour-or-so drive to the trailhead. He had been very attentive, he had talked about himself, but had also inquired about how she had been, if she had written any more songs or lyrics, asked her about things she had done in her youth and early adulthood and also how work was now with the shutdown. He had asked her how her hike with some friends had gone a few days before and she could hear a slight jealousy in the way he asked the question. She had smiled slightly at that and turned towards him to show him some pictures of the couple she had hiked with and also of the hike itself.

She had brought a bottle of her homemade wine for them to share, or not. She had decided to let him make the decision. If they drank the wine, she would make a move, if not, then she would hold off and be good. They stopped once on the way up the dirt road so he could pee, and she took the opportunity to get out and stretch her legs. She had taken off her soft over shirt and was now dressed in just her short shorts and a charcoal grey spaghetti strap tank top.

They piled back into the cab of the truck to continue to the trailhead. Once there they started gathering their stuff. In his case a backpack, in hers, her canvas side satchel bag, which she rotated around her body so it fit perfectly in the small of her back. She had seen the wine and asked if he wanted to take it with them.

"We can drink it when we get back to the truck," he responded.

She questioned, "so, you're going to drive drunk?"

Conceding on this, "I guess that wouldn't be good, would it?" As he answered he had moved next to her so she could put the bottle in his pack. Once the bottle was secure, they headed for the trail.

It was a beautiful hike. They chatted as they went, she had been more talkative than him while they climbed, but they were well matched and kept pace with one another. They had run into some snow drifts that blocked the trail a few times and had to make their way around them. Finally they reached the lake.

He pulled out a sandwich and started munching on it. She hadn't realized she was hungry because she was so nervous, but at that moment felt her tummy rumble. She rummaged through her overly large purse and brought out a shaker cup filled with a protein powder and water. She shook it and drank it as he ate his sandwich.

When they had finished eating, she asked, "wine?"

"Sure."

They were both lightweights who almost never drank. She made wine, but rarely ever drank it. The hobby was one her ex-husband had started, and now she was left with the vineyard. She didn't mind it. Making wine was fun, and although she didn't like wine from the store, she did like hers on occasion. She riffed through her bag again for a bottle opener, found it and proceeded to open the wine. She took a sip from the bottle and handed it to him, he chugged some and handed the bottle back. It went on like this for a few passes before she had realized he was chugging it.

"This wine will hit you hard chugging it like that I take small sips," and she showed him the small sip.

He was clearly nervous, hoping the wine would calm him, instead it made him a bit more antsy and he had to pee again. He excused himself to pee and she spread out the over shirt she had been wearing when he picked her up, so she had a place to sit that she wouldn't end up with pine pitch on her ass.

When he came back, he sat down right next to her, and she linked her arm through his and they sat like that for a while. She wasn't sure how long they sat there before she turned towards him. She had just wanted to smell him, wanting to remember him this way, but he turned towards her too and their lips met. Her heart fluttered and then skipped a few beats, before returning to a semi normal rhythm. Her tongue had slid past his lips to deepen their kiss and he was suddenly in front of her, their embrace immediately igniting the flames of passion that had been building between them for over a year.

Even though she was only remembering what had taken place with him, she could actually feel the way his kisses flushed her cheeks and made her pulse unsteady and her heart pound. She remembered the way his arms felt as they gently twisted around her, pulling her in close to him, her back naturally arching, she pushed her chest into his. Her skin flushed as though she were there again.

Their tongues and mouths had been hungry for each other. She now felt her pulse spreading throughout her body and fluttering down deep in her groin.

Her memory was so strong that she felt the pressure of his impressively firm penis and the fluidity of his pelvic movement pressing against her.

The thought caused her to arch her back languishing in the memory of his hands gently caressing her body as their hips moved together and pulled apart in slow counter motion. His wandering hands had eventually visited her breasts, and he had softly rolled the nipple between his thumb and fingertips of one of her breasts as he caressed the outside of the other.

She felt his hot tongue explore her depths until she was begging for him to fuck her.

She imagined him entering her, his firm cock easing slowly into her, and her sigh upon full entry. Her legs wrapped around his slender hips, her own hips moving in musical counterpoint to the melody and rhythm of his body.

So caught up in her fantasy, her breath came faster and faster as she envisioned the two of them urgently striving for climax until, she orgasmed hard, her body so caught up in the memory that she actually felt the pressure of his cock thrust deeply inside her; she moaned loudly, her core throbbing and wet, and her breath ragged and unsteady her skin now flushed and tingly.

Micki even envisioned her cockworship of him how he had reacted to every lick, nibble' tickle and tweak. She now knew what he liked and what he didn't and hoped it wouldn't be too long before they had a chance to do it again.

She hadn't needed her hands to help stimulate herself to completion, just the memory of him, their lips locked in passion, the smell of him, and the feeling of his amazing body intertwined with her own, both moving together as if they had done this hundreds of thousands of times, but knowing it had only been the first.