An Old Boy Scout Meets an Angel

Amber/Ann cooed and moaned, saying things like, "I love when you hold me like this," and even, "I've missed you so much, Mark." That made me sob a little, and Ann said, "It's okay, love, just experience me again, feel me against you, feel my love for you."

I sobbed quietly against this warm girl's neck and shoulder, knowing she wasn't my Ann, but maybe? Somehow? Was Ann channeling through her? I don't believe much in mysticism, but it was a hopeful thought.

"Mark, touch me like you used to. I want to feel your gentle hands on me again. Guide me to orgasm, sweetheart, like the old times. Can you do that?"

I thought I could. It seemed okay. In fact, it seemed almost 'right'. So I let my hands roam up to Ann's nipples, forgetting for the moment that they were attached to breasts much larger than Ann's. Rolling them between the thumbs and forefingers of both hands, I felt them stiffen to attention just as Ann's used to do. She writhed in my lap at the attention, softly moaning her pleasure. Which felt delightful on my dick, still trapped under her voluptuous bottom.

Fully into my memories now, I snaked my right hand down between Ann's legs, which she eagerly parted to give me access. Finding the nub of her clitoris I began to rub it lightly, eliciting whispered moans and encouragements from her. Sliding my middle finger lower, I found Ann's slit wet and beginning to widen, just as it was the last several times on our couch. Running that finger down the full length of her womanhood I hooked the first knuckle into her vagina and gave it a few short, slow pumps. Ann writhed again in delight, and I could feel her butt actually slide over my cock now, pre-cum having lubricated it.

I removed that hand from her sex, eliciting an exasperated moan, and tasted her on my fingers. Not exactly like Ann, but close enough. Then wetting the fingertips of the other hand, I applied both hands to her nipples, wetting them. After the sun set it had begun to cool of course, and now I judged it was about 70F, with a freshening breeze off the lake. The half-moon had risen behind us, and in the dappled moonlight I watched appreciatively as her wet nipples engorged further, small goosebumps visible around them.

Lifting Amber's arm over my head I ducked under it and laid it on my shoulder. This part was easier with Ann because her breasts were small, meaning the nipples were right there on her chest, but Amber's pendulous breasts meant I had to lift the right one up and fix its nipple between my teeth to suckle on it. Left hand back on her left nipple, my right hand found her clit again, and Amber/Ann started to breathe quite heavily, punctuated by sharp gasps as my fingers and mouth on 3 of her erogenous zones alternately caressed and pinched.

My brain juxtaposed this situation to the many times I'd had Ann in this very embrace, and soon I forgot it was Amber at all. As Ann built toward her orgasm she gave me the most delightful encouragements, calling me 'lover' and 'honey,' and saying it was just like the old times. I don't know who was more in the moment, me thinking it was Ann, or Amber sinking into her role as Ann, but we were both getting quite excited. Not that I was going to come or anything, but I had truly always enjoyed doing this for Ann, hearing her moans, feeling her squirming like this, holding her tight until I'd given her the orgasm she needed.

That moment soon came and Ann wailed out her release into the night. She bucked her pussy wantonly against my hand, which meant her butt stroked my dick deliciously, lubricated now not just by my pre-cum, but by her juices that had trickled down into the crack of her bottom. Where I'd thought there wasn't much chance of me coming earlier, now I wasn't so confident. Ann's wailings and thrashing was as much of a turn-on for me as were her butt cheeks sliding vigorously over my manhood.

But I wanted this to be about Ann and not me, so I tried to ignore the feelings down there and just concentrate on what I was doing to her body. Her wails soon died down to guttural moans, and her pelvic thrusts slowed, but she kept moving her hips, telling to keep doing what I was doing to clitoris and nipples, but to slow down a bit.

Letting go of the nipple in my mouth I whispered up toward her face, "Oh Ann, I've missed you so much!" Her head was arched as far back across my shoulder as it could go, and those words heightened her arousal. "I've especially missed holding you naked and warm tight against me like this, and doing this for you, giving you the pleasure you so deserve." Ann began to writhe more and breathe faster, and I hoped to talk her into another orgasm.

"You were a perfect wife and partner, more than I deserved, and a perfect mother to our children. When my ardor waned and yours increased I was always happy to pleasure you like this." Louder groans from Ann and more feverish bucking against my hand, which was now vigorously rubbing the length of her sloppy-wet sex, hitting the clitoris up and down on each trip.

"Let me hear it, Ann. Let me hear the beautiful music of your orgasm. You know it turns me on so. The way your butt is rubbing me I'm close to coming myself. Let go, baby-girl, give me what I want, what I need."

That did it for Ann; it usually did, a little dirty talk. I'd found she didn't like raunchy talk, so I kept it somewhat tame. This time when her orgasm hit her she froze, arching her back mightily, so it was all I could do to hold her against me. I froze my hand on her womanhood too, just applying light presses against her clit, minimal input until her body told me it was time to increase again.

Where she had wailed during the first one, this time Ann cried out "Oh God, Oh God," over and over, louder and louder, until I felt compelled to clamp my left hand over her mouth until her ecstasy passed. Yeah, there probably wasn't anyone else out here, but no need to chance it. Having extricated myself out from under her arm I leaned into her face and neck, whispering to her how beautiful she was, how much I still loved her, how much I missed her. That talk kept her at the plateau of her orgasm, and she began to slowly rub herself against my hand again, which I met with opposite strokes. Her 'Oh Gods' had subsided to soft mewlings behind my hand, so I removed it and placed it lightly on her nipple again, massaging gently.

Thus cradling my angel (WAS she an angel?) in my lap as she came down from her high, I felt compelled to tell this embodiment of my Ann in heaven that I'd never strayed in our 36 years of marriage, that I'd never touched another woman like this, or had one touch me. Ann moaned louder and moved her hips more strongly, but I didn't think she was trying for another orgasm so I kept my ministrations light.

"And since you've been gone, Ann, I haven't been with another woman either. Not necessarily from any great sense of fidelity, because I know you'd want me to be happy, but I just haven't been interested in anyone else. Because I thought no one else would compare to you."

I paused to concentrate on pleasuring her, letting her bask in the afterglow of her release.

"But today the most remarkable thing happened and this lovely young lady Amber who I suppose you're residing in right now--" here Amber/Ann, I wasn't sure which, moaned loudly and bucked strongly against my hand, "--suggested that she stand in for you, which is honestly the most beautiful thing anyone has ever done for me, and I thank her from the bottom of my heart."

Ann/Amber abruptly turned herself in my lap and embraced me, kissing my face and neck all over. I closed my eyes so as not to break the spell, to let it continue to be Ann. She then kissed me full on the lips, even inserting her tongue a little. I didn't kiss back, but parted my lips slightly in case she wanted to do more. She did, and she hungrily chewed on both lips alternately, licking them at the same time. I just kept my arms around her waist, no longer touching her erotically, just letting her have her way with my face and mouth. It was divine, and I felt like I was in heaven with her.

Ann then she covered my eyes with one hand and stood up off of me. In a husky whisper she said that she had to "go back," but she was so thankful she'd gotten to spend this time with me. And that I should live my life to the fullest, even if it meant being with other women and giving them the same joy I'd given her over the years, and especially this last time tonight. She said that she probably wouldn't see me anymore like this (which made me sad), but that we'd be together again soon enough, and that made me happy and gave me hope.

Then she walked off into the darkness, up the drive toward the dirt road, and then I lost the sound of her. I just sat there remembering her, as she was before, and tonight in a different body, but my Ann nonetheless. I dared not look after her because I didn't want to spoil the moment. I don't mind saying that I was weeping. Sad for my loss of the most perfect woman I'd ever known, but happy for this mystical reunion with her. For though my mind knew it was Amber all along, I believed that somehow Ann was present too. Perhaps it was just the perfume: the olfactory sense has the ability to conjure up very powerful memories.

As I sat there reminiscing, the fire now just barely-glowing coals, the wind freshening even more, I realized I was starting to get chilly, naked as I was. Still, I didn't want to leave this magical, happy spot just yet, and I think I dozed. Max was curled beside me on the ground, but at some point he alerted with a low growl. But then I think he smelled the scent of Amber, and knew that he knew her so there no danger, so he settled back down.

"Mark, I'm back!" In a tentative voice, because with the fire out she probably couldn't see me slumped in the chair. I stirred and called out that I was 'over here.'

"Sorry I was gone so long, I couldn't find the stupid chocolate bars!" In her hands were a box of graham crackers and two Hershey bars. I must've looked befuddled because she said, "I went to my tent to get these for s'mores, remember?" She looked at me questioningly, even worriedly.

I had no memory of that, but so as not to look stupid I said, "Oh yeah..."

"Oh shoot, I think the fire's too low now, isn't it?" I rose and stirred it, confirming that it was, unless we wanted to wait 15 or more minutes while I added some fresh sticks and we waited for them to burn down. "No, that's alright. I guess it's getting late. Look at little Max, already zonked out."

"Amber, would you sit with me and have one more glass of wine?" As she nodded I asked if she'd pour while I went in the camper to grab us a couple blankets. When I came back she was seated and holding a plastic cup out to me, full nearly to the brim. I asked her to hold it for a minute while I draped the blanket over her. I noted that she was wearing shorts now, not the lacy black panties she'd been in before.

I draped the other blanket across my shoulders and wrapped it in front, taking the cup from her and turning my chair toward hers at about a 90 degree angle, so that our feet were almost touching. I chugged down half the cup of wine, trying to calm my nerves from the experience I'd just had: was it a well-acted bit of role-playing on Amber's part, cueing off of me, along with some lucky guesses? Or was it something supernatural, and Anne's spirit had somehow really been there. I hated to ask, but I needed to know.

"Amber, you'll think I'm crazy, but were you sitting on my lap just a short time ago, and we were both naked?"

With what seemed like a genuinely confused laugh she answered, "Noooooo.... I think I'd remember that."

"You didn't go into the camper to use the bathroom and come back with Ann's perfume?"

"Definitely not! I wouldn't touch another woman's perfume or makeup without permission, and the only time I was in the camper was to get the rice. And that was quick, wasn't it? What's going on, Mark?"

"I don't know, hon. But I guess while you were gone I had a very vivid dream. And--well, I probably shouldn't tell you all the details, but I swore Ann was here with me and I--I was touching her in ways she liked to be touched..."

"Oh, you miss her so much, it's understandable you'd dream about her. You did have that glass of wine earlier...," she suggested.

Realizing that I was still holding a half-full cup I quickly downed it. Amber poured me another half-glass. Then suddenly remembering how wet Ann/Amber had been, and how her and my juices had mixed and lubricated my dick, I said, "I can prove you were here!" Whipping open the blanket, I picked up my now-flaccid penis to show her it was wet, but before she or I could even see it I could tell it was dry. Sitting out in the breeze afterwards, plus the trip into the camper, and then the blanket, all that must've dried it. There wasn't even any 'crusty' residue to bely what had happened. Or had it happened?

Amber looked at me quizzically as I searched her face for a sign, any kind of sign, that she was there and remembered what had happened. I didn't see any, and sensing my anguish she said, "Mark, I think you just had a powerful dream. We'd roasted one marshmallow each, then I remembered I had graham crackers and chocolate, so I said I'd go back to my camp and get them. You don't know this, but my tent is about 10 minutes that way, and then I couldn't find the chocolate bars and... Well, do you think it's possible you dozed off while I was away?" She said all this very tenderly, not wanting to kill the magic in whatever I thought I'd experienced.

Deciding it was probably best to just drop it now, I said she was probably right. I had woken before dawn that day, did some work for a client, then drove 3 hours here. All that plus a good dinner and the wine must've knocked me out. Amber rubbed my bare leg and said it was okay, that I should savor the memory. Perhaps Ann had actually visited me in my dream and that made it seem so realistic.

I said she was probably right, and thanked her for understanding and being so sweet to me. She said it was easy being sweet to me because I was such a sweet guy. Which just served to remind me of the many times Ann had said that to me, and made me feel melancholy again.

"Hey listen, there's a storm coming up, so instead of staying by yourself in your tent, why don't you stay here in the motorhome where you'll be safer from falling branches and wind. No funny business." I'd been watching the 'heat lightning' in the West move closer, and the now-substantial breeze coming from that direction carried with it the smell of ozone. Past experience said a thunderstorm would be here in 2 hours, tops.

"I think I'll be alright, Boy Scout. But if it gets too bad I'll take you up on the offer. Deal?" I shook her proffered hand as she stood, telling her to hold onto the blanket. She gave me a peck on the cheek, rearranged the blanket so that it folded closed in front of her, took her crackers and chocolates, and walked off into the moonlit-night. I called after her to at least come back in the morning for breakfast, bacon and eggs. She said that was a deal too.

I roused Max and we went inside, my head still spinning from trying to decipher if what I'd thought had happened had in fact really happened. It had seemed so real that it was Amber at first, though the identities had blurred for me later on. But she denied that she'd been involved, and it didn't seem like she was lying. And why should she? So had it happened like I thought, but Amber's memory of it had been erased? Or had I simply dreamed it as she suggested? I didn't remember being that sleepy to fall asleep sitting up, which I rarely do, but perhaps...

With those thoughts and memories roiling in my head I used the bathroom and went to bed. It was only 9:30, but I was exhausted and quickly fell asleep, Max curled up beside me. As I drifted off to sleep I'm almost ashamed to admit that I began to dream of Amber the woman, and not Amber the possible fleshly vessel of my dear departed Ann.

But Ann had told me to enjoy life again, and other women. Whether that was only Ann in my dream, or Ann channeled through the curvaceous body of Amber I still couldn't say. And then, nearly asleep, it occurred to me that I could prove or disprove the thing by checking the medicine cabinet for Ann's bottle of Lancome. But I was too tired to move. Plus I didn't really want to spoil the magic by proving that Amber had come into the camper and gotten the bottle. I drifted back to sleep remembering the feel of Amber's fleshy derriere pressed tightly against me, and what I might do with it if given half a chance...