An Old Flame Revisited Ch. 02

Chapter Two

I took her into my arms.

"You're not damaged," I said softly, my fingertips very lightly tracing the ridges on her back, "you're a beautiful, natural woman."

I could feel her crying against me. I stroked her hair, kissed her forehead, and held her while she cried.

"Were you coerced?" I asked and felt her shake her head lightly.

"Were you raped?" I asked and this time the shake of her head was more emphatic.

I held her a while longer until I felt her take a deep breath and knew that the crying was passed.

I pushed her to arm's length and smiled. "Tell me you have beer," I said and she nodded.

"Come," I said, and walked her to the couch. "Sit," I said and she sat.

I went into the kitchen and opened the refrigerator. I had to laugh. It looked like something out of Better Homes and Gardens. Salads obviously figured highly in her regular diet but the way she had gone after those ribs made it clear that she was no vegetarian. She did have, praise the Lord, beer. Japanese Sapporo if it matters. I opened one of the oversized beers, found a glass, poured, and went back into the front room.

"Here," I said, "have a drink." She took a hard pull on the beer, no ladylike sip, and handed it back. Her little foam mustache was cute.

I took a drink myself, set the beer on the little side table, sat next to her, and patted my lap.

"Head here and let's talk," I said.

She reached for my belt and I slapped her hand.

"Talk," I said.

Her face showed an odd combination of hurt, relief, and something else, happiness maybe?

"Okay," she said, laying back, her head in my lap. She stretched, luxuriantly, almost cat-like, and the way her back arched when she did showed her breasts nicely. "Read any good books lately?" she asked with a giggle.

I smiled and caught her hand.

"Bonnie," I started, and then stopped to get my thoughts together. I figured I had one shot at getting this right and I didn't want to blow it.

"Bonnie," I started again, "unless you were forced, there is nothing, as you put it, 'damaged,' about you."

She started to say something but I touched her lips with my forefinger, stopping her.

"Someone," I said, brushing a stray hair away from her face, and I paused again, wanting to get the words right, "Someone revealed your nature to you," I said, "and you accepted it, didn't you?"

"My 'nature?'" she asked.

I smiled and said, "women need to be claimed."

Her forehead wrinkled in that way I remembered from watching her working on a math word problem, you know, "Bob leaves Denver heading east at 70 miles per hour. Dave leaves New York heading west at 55 miles per hour. Blah blah blah."

Finally, she looked up and met my eyes. "That feels about right."

"There is nothing wrong with you," I said, fingertips brushing her forehead, smoothing those thought wrinkles.

Damn, the woman even cried prettily. She smiled as tears slowly overflowed and ran down her temples.

Those blue eyes found mine and she was smiling.

"Make love to me, David," she said, "be gentle and we'll be 18 again for a night, okay?"

I smiled back and said, "but I AM going to tickle that beautiful back of yours."

She smiled and said, softly, "please."

I got my hand behind her head and gently lifted her into a sitting position and then stood. I took her hands and helped her stand.

I kissed her, a good kiss, not too soft, not too hard, just a hint of my tongue tracing the shape of her lips, as my hands very gently caressed her back and I felt those hard ridges against my palms. She sighed and kissed me back, her arms around my neck.

I broke the kiss then and slowly eased to my knees, glad that my arthritis was limited to my hands. I kissed between her breasts, light pecks for each nipple, liking the way they were hard on her tight areolas with their very distinct love bumps on display. I kissed my way down as I eased to my knees.

She grabbed my shoulders as I lifted her foot to get her shoe and then the knee-high nylon off. She was amazingly trim and had held the years at bay successfully. But there are those tells that just can't be avoided and her feet were hers. Heavy veins crossed the tops and her tendons stood out like little ropes. She had a distinct bunion at the base of her big toe and what my grandmother had called corns on the tops of her little and next toe. Her nails were thick and horny and the red polish couldn't hide that.

With her shoes off, I started on her slacks. They had a built-in belt, I'm not sure what it's called in women's fashions but it was what I thought of as a SansABelt design from slacks I owned. I enjoyed working the zipper down and then slowly easing the slacks past her trip hips. I kissed the line of her panties, and realized they were those padded panties I had seen advertised on television for women with "occasional incontinence." They were black and sexy as hell as I rolled them down.

When she was naked before me I pushed her to arm's length, still on my knees, and just looked. I liked very much that she giggled and blushed.

She was trim, obviously intent on keeping herself in shape. I suspected Pilates or Yoga regularly. But age will tell, and below her belly button, a cute little outie that made her squeal when I sucked it gently, was a soft little wrinkled pouch of skin. I kissed there too.

Bonnie is one of those blondes with thick hair, and her pubic hair holds true to that. It was very thick and very curly, a sexy triangle. And it was silver. It was that beautiful silvery grey color that many women try for on their heads but few manage to pull off. It made me think how beautiful the hair on her head would be if she let it go natural because, obviously, her blondeness was enhanced.

So I kissed it.

And I inhaled deeply, her pheromone-laden womanscent better than any Viagra or Cialis or Levitra.

She giggled when I blew quickly and then kissed again.

So I looked up, and smiled. "God you're beautiful," I said and I liked when her fingers wrapped in my hair and she pulled me to her.

I held her eyes as I used my lips to gently part her outer lips so I could kiss more deeply, more intimately, my tongue licking those delicate inner lips. I liked the way her eyes closed as I did that and the way she smiled as I inhaled deeply, taking her womanscent in like it was a hit on a pot pipe.

It turned into a good old American blow job then. I held her eyes as I brought her along, my tongue busy at her clitoris while my lips sucked very gently, drawing more of her tender tissue into my mouth. Her breath was catching and her fingers were twisting in my hair, I could feel her nails scratching my scalp in a reflexive movement as I took her slowly to her climax.

My hands were on her ass, firm and warm, but what took her over the top was when I slowly ran them up her back, my palms flat, feeling those ridges that would never go away. When she came I pulled away just a little, pushing my face forward, accepting the sudden rush of her thick, slightly salty, nectar on my face, wanting her to be able to see how much I enjoyed what we were doing. She came in a rush, almost like when I ejaculated, and I accepted it on my forehead until it ran down my face and hung in a thick string from my chin.

When I felt her start to relax I deliberately found two distinct welts on her back and lightly traced them with the tips of my fingers. She gasped, cried a soft, "oh God," and came again, this time her sweet ambrosia was even thicker and hotter as she pushed and it ran into my eyes, burning a little with the salt, but I didn't close them, I wanted to keep looking into hers.

With a final, sudden push, almost watery this time, splashing on my chin, she came and collapsed. I had to catch her as her knees unlocked and she seemed to go almost boneless.

"Oh God, oh Jesus, oh shit, oh FUCK!" she was sort of chanting.

I felt strength slowly return as I held her.

Suddenly she was scrabbling at my buttons but her hands were trembling too badly to undo them. I chuckled and said, "come on, let me take you to bed, and then I'll handle the buttons."

Her eyes slowly re-focused and then she smiled.

"Yes," she said.

"Yes to what?" I asked, adjusting and starting to stand.

She kissed me, a slippery kiss with all of her natural lubricants on my face.

"Yes to whatever you want," she said.

I lifted her in that classic carry-the-bride-over-the-threshold way, my left arm under her knees and my right across her shoulders. She wrapped her arms around my neck and kissed me as I walked into the bedroom. I noticed an Echo device on her headboard as I sat her on the bed.

"Alexa, music to strip by," I said.

Nothing happened.

Bonnie giggled and said, "I reprogrammed it. Reginald, music to strip by."

A male voice with an English accent responded, "yes, beautiful," and David Rose's brassy version of "The Stripper" started playing.

I laughed, but picked up the beat.

I thought I did a pretty good strip tease for her, especially given that I was pushing three-quarters of a century pretty damn hard. We did both laugh when I was doing that awkward two-step to get my shoes and socks off and almost fell over.

I crawled into bed with her and she had her legs pulled up until her knees almost touched her nipples and her arms were reaching for me. I settled into her embrace, kissed her, and there was no need for either of us to guide me. My erection found her, slick and ready, and I slipped in naturally.

She sighed, a long, shuddering breath, and her fingers dug into my back.

"Oh, David," she said, softly, "it's been so long since anyone made love to me."

I was supporting myself on my arms keeping just enough separation between us to let me focus on her eyes.

"I hope it won't be long until the next time," I said, kissing her.

"Me too," she said, her legs locking with mine, the backs of our knees pressed tight as she flexed her muscles.

"Let's just stay like this," she said, her eyes almost pleading.

I chuckled and, once again, said, "please, Br'er Fox, not the briar patch."

She giggled and kissed me.

In my life, I had been with twenty-seven women before that night with Bonnie. Some had been athletic, some awkward, some terrific, some mediocre. But nothing was even remotely close, including the times with three wives, to the intimacy of that moment.

We were truly merged. There was one perfect body where before there had been two parts. We kissed and touched. She giggled a little when she licked my chin where her thick ambrosia hung in a string. "Salty," she said with a giggle. "We'll sweeten you up," I said back and we giggled together, our bodies merged and content.

I have no idea how long that first time lasted for us. We were kissing and smiling and whispering silly things, "that's nice," or "oh my," when suddenly her eyes got big and I felt her squeeze where I was inside of her and there was a hot wet rush.

"Oh God, yessssssss," she hissed and I kissed her, inhaling her happiness.

In the end, my body took over. I felt the pressure deep in my belly building and tried to hold it back, not wanting this to end.

What did me in, at the end, was her saying to me, "tell me you love me."

There was something about that, such a pure request, that undid all of my control.

"I love you," I said and came.

And came.

And came, my body pumping as it had never done before. My normal single pump was replaced with a half dozen distinct ejaculations, each one better than the last.

"I love you," I said, again, as my body continued giving me the pleasure only a man can know.

"I love you," she said, her heels digging into my ass, pulling me deep into her.

I felt her body clench, matching mine, and there was no way I could stop the sharp "unnhhhhhhhhhhhh," sound I made.

Her own "aaaaaiiiiiiieeeeeeeee," matched me.

Finally, spent, exhausted, panting, we both relaxed. I managed to roll off of her without just collapsing onto her, and then we lay for another measurable fraction of eternity, side by side, our hands on each other's hips, our lips brushing each other's.

"You are so beautiful," I said and she murmured, "thank you."

"I love you, Bonnie," I said, but I don't think she heard me.

She was snoring softly.