An Encounter to Remember

Shannon let out a little scream then cooed. "Ahh! That was wonderful."

Her encouragement led him to explore her navel area with nibbles, bites, kneading, and licks. Shannon's breathing became heavier and her body arched with anticipation of his attacks.

Shannon suddenly asked. "Mason, can I touch you while you're doing this?"

"No, I don't need you to touch me, right now, but I do want to eat you! Is that okay?"

Shannon's eyes grew wide. "You mean...down there?"

Mason paused to look up at her. "Yes. Haven't you had oral sex before?"

Shannon's face was beet red, even in the dim light.

"Hmm, no, but I'm willing to try."

The excitement of an oral virgin aroused Mason even more. It was one of the things he truly enjoyed giving. He resumed his kisses on her belly as he slowly traversed the terrain down over her pubic area while sliding her panties off.

He opened her legs a little wider and took in the full view of her sex. He gently brushed her slit with his fingers, massaged the sides of her clit, and increased the pressure only after he heard loud and pleasured moans coming from her lips.

Using his tongue, he started with slow, deliberate licks along her slit and grazed over her clit. Her body's movements, in response to his probing, drove him wild. He went slow, then fast; gentle, then built up to aggressive as Shannon's moans grew louder and more uncontrolled.

Shannon cooed.

"Oh, yes, Mason! You're making me feel so good. This is crazy."

Mason didn't respond, but he grunted as he was immersed in the wildness of drinking her. In the back of his mind, flashes of memories came back—the erotic groans of his wife when he ate her and the complete surrender of her body to him.

During their youth, they were both wild and adventurous, and he remembered all of the crazy places he tasted her—the kitchen counter at her shared apartment with grad school roommates sleeping in the adjacent room, her student office, on the backseat of a car, and on a picnic blanket under the warm breeze at the end of a long hike into a spring valley.

His wife was decadently sexy as she pulled at his hair and screamed she was his and he could do whatever he wanted to her.

The moans from his memories blended with the moans of the present. He was lost in himself as he tasted them and roughly kneaded their thighs. The blood that poured into his hard dick made him both dizzy and primitive. He didn't pay attention to whether they'd cum. That wasn't the point.

Her body tensed and shivered and it almost sounded as though she was whimpering.

"Oh, Mason! I love you!"

Those were the words he remembered hearing.

"Oh, Mason! This is amazing!"

It was as if he was making love to two women at the same time.

He lifted his head to visualize his reality. Shannon's navel rose up and down due to heavy breathing. Her eyes were closed and she was panting. Sensing he'd stopped, she opened her eyes and smiled at him.

"That was incredible."

He moved up to be face to face with her. His nose grazed hers and her dark eyes, like a seductive black hole, sucked him in. There was no reserve left in her. Her shyness and sadness had been peeled away and she was raw with desire.

It was with that same kind of twinkle in her eyes that he heard Shannon say.

"Fuck me! Please!"

After stripping himself naked, he positioned himself between her legs and used his hand to guide his cock as he grinded himself up and down her slit, but stopped short of going inside of her.

Shannon moved her hips and cooed. "Ahh, you're teasing me."

Mason's modesty had been peeled away as well. He wasn't the casual, nice guy with a laid back attitude anymore. He was who he'd always been, once he knew he could be trusted.

He whispered into her ear.

"Say you want me to fuck your pussy hard."

Shannon bit her lips and grinded herself against him.

"Ahh...I want you, please!"

"Say those exact words."

He held a lock of her tangled her and pulled it.

"Say you want me to fuck your pussy hard, and you'll get it."

"Oh, god—"

Shannon's entire body was shivering. Then she looked into his eyes and realized there was no shame in admitting it.

"I want you to fuck my pussy hard."

"That's my girl."

He pushed himself into her warm and tight hole with one stroke and she immediately threw her head back and screamed.

Mason tried to pace himself. It'd been so long and he'd been so lonely. That was the most aroused he'd been in such a long time. He couldn't have it end too soon, so he went for long, deep strokes while interspersing it with kisses and bites on her lips and neck.

Shannon moved her hips up and down with him as if it was a beautifully choreographed dance. He cherished the details of his woman's features—her slight frown, half-closed eyes, and lips that were plump with pleasure. Coupled with the ins and outs of his strokes, it was unbelievable.

He remembered those young nights when he lifted a foot to his shoulder and fucked his woman sideways. He remembered putting both feet up on him to pound all vulnerability out of the moaning beauty below him, the unconstrained screams, the nails digging into his back, and the tightness in his balls as he was so close to the edge, but with immense control, he kept just short of tipping over.

"What happened?" Shannon had asked.

He didn't know what happened. Perhaps time, that relentless monster, had chipped away the vigor. Or maybe he fooled himself into thinking he was no longer the man he once was. Ironic, because here he found himself panting, groaning, grunting, and feeling every bit alive inside a woman. It only took two glasses of cocktail and a damn V-neck dress to send him there.

He lowered himself and muffled Shannon's moans with a fierce kiss. She was screaming into him and her pussy contracted and squeezed his cock. He desperately held on at the last moment. He didn't want it to end, yet.

"Do you want to try something different?" He asked.

Shannon opened her eyes. "What is it?"

Mason pulled out, grabbed a pillow, and put it under her hips. Then he re-entered her, postured up, and started pumping her pussy and grinding her clit at the same time.

Shannon's eyes widened as she gasped. Her mouth turned into an O shape as the new sensation washed over her. Her hands grabbed at his arms and her body tensed and arched as she let out a series of wordless screams. He continued to grind her and she continued to gasp for air as a gush of warmth enveloped his dick.

She let out a big sigh and looked at him in a daze as he slowed down, but he said nothing.

"I've never felt that before." Shannon said.

Mason kissed her forehead then they kissed.

Shannon whispered. "I want you to feel good, too, Mason. Do what makes you feel good."

He remembered those words.

"Do what you want to me. I'm yours."

"I want to come inside of you." Mason said.

"Do it! Come inside of me! Make me cum!"

He didn't know which one of them said those words, but it didn't matter. All of the blood had been routed to the lower part of his body, leaving only primal instincts to drive the rest of him. He removed the pillow from under his lady, put both of her legs on his shoulders, then straightened up, and pounded down onto and into her.

It was his time for the release to be mind-blowing. His companion fully understood and complied with his violence as her own screams were high-pitched and scattered with his name. He may have seen tears roll down her cheeks—in ultimate bliss or pain or both—but he didn't know for sure.

Then he was there—his body was completely rigid and with bursts of low groans, he pumped all of his seed into her warm, tight hole he'd been ravaging. In his mind, it seemed to have taken him forever to dump all of the load he had into her, but in reality, it may have only been a few seconds.

The room was quiet, except for their heavy breathing. Where their bodies met, it felt like a searing iron. He struggled to get off of Shannon because he felt lightheaded from the exertion. He wanted to laugh at himself for being old, but he wasn't that old. He was only worn out.

Eventually he came to his senses and inspected Shannon's face. She'd been crying. He was overcome with dread.

"Are you okay?" He asked.

Shannon sniffed. "Oh, Mason. That was the best thing that's ever happened to me."

She looked at him then laughed while crying at the same time.

Mason laughed (and cried, inside, a little), too.

"You were...a stud!" Shannon smiled at him, "I'm jealous of your wife."

Mason corrected her, "Ex-wife."

Shannon gave him a mysterious smile.

"I should confess to you that I thought you were very handsome when I first saw you. Otherwise, I would've run away when you offered me the drink."

Mason laughed.

"And I should confess that I would've left you there, cold and wet, if I didn't think you were gorgeous."

They both laughed again.

Shannon got off the bed, "Let me go clean up a bit."

"Sure."

Shannon went into the bathroom and emerged a few minutes later with her V-neck dress back on. Mason, however, noticed she simply folded her panties and put it in her handbag. Somehow, that sight had gotten a little blood to run into his cock, again but only a little.

"My turn." Mason said.

He went into the bathroom and stared into the mirror. It felt strange to look at his own naked body. He couldn't remember the last time he'd admired himself—judged himself, that is—as a male specimen. It seemed, for the past few years, all he cared about when he looked into the mirror, was that he'd shaved, his hair was properly styled, and his tie was correctly done.

When was the last time he looked at his body and asked himself if a woman would sleep with him just based on his looks? It had to be decades ago. To be fair, the older men became, the less their looks mattered. Mason knew he had a charming attitude and a quiet confidence that made it easy to get along with female co-workers and fellow parents.

He thought of his wife, or more precisely, soon-to-be ex-wife. He tried to recall the most recent time he'd taken a full look at her body, but he couldn't remember. All he could remember was what she looked like when she was twenty-five and a fiery vixen, but she wasn't like Shannon.

He concentrated his thoughts back to the present. Shannon was graceful and beautiful in a reserved way. She was fragile, which was a novelty to him. She was the kind of girl who, if he were twenty-five again, he wouldn't have been able to successfully date because he wouldn't have been smooth and confident enough to ask her out. Also, had he been twenty-five, he wouldn't have been able to have the fabulous sex they'd shared because he would've been green and reckless.

As he thought about what he'd say to her after he left the bathroom, reality set in. He had work the next day, starting at ten in the morning, then he'd be in San Diego the next day.

Perhaps he could ask her out for dinner the next day—actually, that day, since it was already past midnight. He wondered whether or not she'd stay in bed with him, but that seemed reckless. He may not make it out of bed at all if she was so inclined to continue keeping him company.

Or, perhaps, he could leave his contact information and ask her to give him a call whenever she came to New York. Or, perhaps, the next time he came to San Francisco, they could go to Chinatown together and try those spicy Szechuan noodles she talked about.

He stepped out of the bathroom to find an empty room—Shannon wasn't there.

For a moment, he panicked as he was worried that something paranormal had happened. Then he saw the note on the nightstand. It only had two words, 'Thank You.' No cell number. No contact information.

He opened the room door and looked into the hallway—she'd left the floor.

He knew he could probably chase her down and maybe catch her waiting for Uber downstairs, but it didn't seem right.

He sat back on his bed and stared at the note. It appeared to say so little, yet it said say so much.

Mason put the note over his eyes and realized there were tears coming from his eyes so he wiped them away.

He didn't know how long he sat there nor did he know when he fell asleep, but eventually he heard the phone ring. It was the hotel staff giving their morning wakeup call as he'd requested. It was five o'clock, west coast time, eight o'clock, east coast time. That was usually when he'd wake up to go out for a morning jog before showering and getting ready for work.

Something tugged at his heart—Shannon's words. 'Maybe she was lonely?'

He stared at his cellphone, looked at the note, and understood Shannon's intentions.

He dialed the number for his wife. While it rang, he thought, 'I've had an encounter I'll forever remember.'