Completeness

Was with tears rolling down her face, that she looked at her boyfriend. He had used her, and she knew that. Just to get off.

It was goodbye, but she said to him some of her views of what a man is, what a boy is, in one letter, she wrote from her guts.

She drove for more than one hour, and then she just parked by the side of the road. She wouldn't cry, she promised herself. She called a friend. He didn't answer, she left him a short voicemail message "I need you."

After 10 minutes, he called back:

"Where are you?" he asked.

She said "I don't know I just drove until I got tired."

After some questions about some signs she could see, what road she took, he told her to wait for him and stay calm, he was coming for her.

He arrived less than 30 minutes later, and he stopped his car after hers.

He walked to her car and knocked the window. She opened the door and leaving the car, jump to his arms.

He was holding her while she cried. What more he could do?

There were no accusations, no resent, for all that happened before. They were lovers, once. Lovers sometimes do fight. They have been apart, but never far from each other mind. One year didn't change it.

"My God..damn Allyson, what they did to you," he murmured, while he caressed her head in his chest "You will be alright, don't worry," he continued "you are always alright, aren't you, my petite, remember it."

He didn't intend in saying it like that. The nickname, the term of endearment he used for her in the past. But it came back, before he could hold it.

She sighed, and said "I missed this," while she was in his arms, and while he did hold her with no hesitation, but with care, as she continued "I missed all of this."

Intensity always leaves marks. It never vanish from someone life, what is really strong, and not surface deep.

When he looked down at her, in his arms, he couldn't help but also feel the knot in his stomach.

She had been there for him before, and new he was there for her. Felt like a magnificent symmetry.

"You know I could say many things," he continued "but the quality of you has been always leave me without words when we are face to face."

She smiled, the bright eyed smile that made him melt. Attractive, sure, sensual, hell yes, she was very sensual, but frail also, and above all, alive.

They had many moments of bright eyes smiles in their affair. The moments they did share, the experiences.

She showed him perfection is not attainable.

He had a flaw, that he never gave up her, what she meant for him, as a male, and as a human. His marriage survived, but he knew during the whole time after they first met, that he was not strong enough to give up on her.

What is curious, is that she saw this persistence, as a quality of him. He didn't had the heart to say it was not. He enjoyed being strong on her eyes, being noble, even when he was not.

His mid-life crisis, that she didn't like calling that, left marks. He was older now, he had been older always, but he was drier.

He saw things and suffered disappointments, who doesn't, right? Plenty since the first day they met,

He was still holding her in his arms when his phone did ring, he answer the call, was his wife. He gave her some excuse, and after sending kisses to his wife and kids, he turned the phone off after hanging up.

"You still love her, don't you?" she asked. "Yes, I do" he answered.

He told her "Ok, you need a drink, or a tea, something, come with me, in my car."

She looked at the car, and said "I can't leave my car here."

Looking around, he told her to drive to a specific parking lot, where she could leave her car safe for one hour or so, and he did meet her there.

She got on his car, and she was now looking at him, as he started to drive, he could tell, but he didn't want to look at her.

"Well, you didn't change much." he said. She laughed "No, Mr doe, I did change," she sighed "I got more scars".

He didn't want to get upset, more than that, he didn't want to feel like he did, as he had failed her.

"Why you never called me?" he asked.

She just looked down, and made her shrugging face "I didn't want to worry you..." came from her sad smile.

"You know me better, my petite," he said, looking forward, and as he got to the park he stopped the car, and looking at her, he continued "I always worry about you." he said.

She smiled again "I miss this too."

He felt compelled to scream at her, but he just spoke in a low voice, to ask her "Why, you stubborn girl, you know I'm your friend, you know we did share a friendship, was not only the sex, damn. You know I worried about you, and I know you did worry about me."

"Was not only it, I know," she said. Then she continued, "weird how it means more to me to hear this, than to hear you saying how much you used to desire me."

He looked deep in her eyes, saying, "Used?"

She was shocked, one word, and he had said it all with this single word, he wanted her still.

She lunged forward, and kissed him, and it all came back, the desire that made their affair stay in their memories, the intense hunger that touching the lips just made more strong.

He was not sure how he did it, but by the end of the kiss, he was already reaching to her neck.

Not because he was horny, his life had taken a turn for the better home. But she would always be something that he couldn't deny himself.

Her presence alone, made him feel the hunger, and kissing, well, kissing, was as strong as the first few times.

By the time he was kissing her neck, she was moaning, and he just didn't think what would happen, he continued kissing and biting her, while his hand felt her waist.

The park was desert, and he told her to get out of the car, he conducted her to a secluded place between the trees, and for few minutes, he just got hold of her, keeping her close to him, with the hands on her back first, then, on her butt, pulling her to him. The whole time apart didn't seem even more than days now, the feeling of her body shivering to his touch, made all very fluid, the licking of her lips, the kissing of the neck curve, the reaching for her hips, the pressure of his erection now, against her body, the hands of his lover close to his chest, while the breathing was elaborated, from both.

She would be always directly connected to his basic instincts, he lost any reminiscence of control, as he opened her blouse, and felt her skin in the chest, with the mouth, her bra, being pushed to provide access to her nipples, and he had the gut reaction, of grunting when he took the hard nipples, one side by turn, in his lips, to suck, and bite strongly, as they both felt each other touch.

She reached for his waist, and her hands pulled him closer, she wanted him, and she knew it was not lesser, was not just a fuck, was the desire that people sometimes pass a lifetime without knowing.

As she said in a shy voice, she, the one that was always shy to him, not a prude, she was a female, a full female, but always was not outspoken, this time, she said 3 words, "I want you." words they said many times, wrote many times, felt many times. Her body being laid down against the grass, over his jacket, his figure, now pulling her jeans down, and looking her body, the look that she knew so well, the look that made her aware as very few things, that the desire he felt for her, was only kept at bay by his care of her. He would abdicate of her, for her own sake, but he could not do it for many things more, maybe, only for his family, and only maybe.

His first sight of her panties, years ago, was not more enticing and mouth watering than now. He looked at her legs, and he, still on front of her, in his knees, just did run his hands on her thighs, all the way from the knees, her bended knees, that he pushed apart, down the valley of her womanhood. He didn't say anything, but he was almost biting his lips as he touched her stomach with his mouth, and from there, holding her breasts, lowered his head down her mound, biting the fabric of the panties, and moaning, no, worse, cursing "fuck, you drive me insane." as he had to push her panties to the side, with the tongue, licking her slit, licking it, drenching his tongue on her.

She was looking down at him, looking around, the trees, the park, all so far, like a background picture. He was muttering, she knew, his native language words, for delicious, or even better to her ears, my delicious.

Her eyes had that still surprised look, the one that always made him devour her more intensely. She know he was not being 'a good lover', he was being selfish, in a way she never understood clearly, her pleasure made any pleasure he had pale, and witnessing her orgasm made his own climax intense like no other experience he had in life. He was licking her clit and sucking it, while she run her hands thru his short hair, less abundant now, but still hair that she had caressed many times while he ate her, a gentle feedback making him know that his touch made her whole. It wasn't long before he had to feel her, more, and one hand reached her mound, while he pressed it, and still, pressed with hand and mouth, like a kid, trying to push a whole pastry into his mouth.

Her lips and clit, as he was biting them, didn't hurt, but felt pounding, her hands, he moaned to her "spread it for me, I need it!" she followed thru with it, of course. The trees the only witness, to their fire, the flame that they just could not put out. Her voice, sweet sensual voice, on shocking grunts as he first slide a finger into her slit, slowly and knowingly, he didn't forget her texture, but was always new, he explored her inside, while sucking her, as if he had to memorize her, she giving the indications in her moaning voice, of what was the point, no, the points, the zones that drove her closer to goddess.

No matter how many times, and there were many, she looked at him, she could not stop smiling inside, he wanted her, he said it all time, but seeing this, was knowing, he wanted her, as a thirst man want water, in a way it was impossible to deny himself. Many times in the past, he told her "My petite, it is not a noble sacrifice to touch you in the car, to eat you there, to see you cum, and not get off myself, is just like delicious foreplay, just happens to take days and encounters, between our moments in bed, when I can fuck you hard and strongly."

His orgasms with her would always be intense, but the more he had tasted her before one of these, the more out of control he was after, the wetter his cheeks, chin, fingers, the more his own member was wet, outside, with the pre-cum, and filled with blood, pumping itself into a harder cock for her, just stiffer as her scent filled his nostrils.

She didn't felt the first orgasm coming, she felt it rushing out of her, how proper, that after so long, she had one of these, is fingers may know her, but was not always a squirting orgasm, this one, the first in a long time, was one of these, and she knew as it started building up and she knew, as she started to own it, to push it to one gushing flow of clear liquid out of her sex, in his hands and lips, his face, closed eyes, savoring her.

He knew sometimes she just became sensitive after a climax, he forced himself to not bite further not touch her clit further, he just waited her to stop shaking, and said "My petite, I needed this, you can't imagine how much." to her waiting ears. He mounted on her, still dressed, typical, too much in a hurry to undress, and he hold her against himself, he looked down on her, and as she started to cry, he cried together "That is my petite, my strong girl, shush, everything will be fine, tomorrow is another day, you know that better than I do!" he said.

She said to him "I'm not crying because I fell hurt, is because I just needed to feel alive, and I had no idea how much."

And she looking at his eyes, while he caressed her hair, she again said, "I want you."

He said, "I want you, and I want you to feel happy, want you to be well," she reached for his member, and he said "I don't need this now, I can just hold you here and will be as good." but she looked at him, and said, "I want you inside me." He didn't undress himself, he saw her hand take his zipper down, and take his member out, he felt her still wet pussy, as she spread herself for him, and he knew it was ok to be a male now and there, she deserved to know how the distance and the time, didn't made his body forget hers. It was with a sensation of rightness, of completeness, that his member did run thru her slit, and the tip of it, started invading her.

She looked his face, as he himself looked down her almost naked body, and saw himself, slowly, enter her, so many sensations and so few words, as he started to slide deeper, in cycles, and in circles, feeling her hips, holding her shoulder with one hand to pull her head to his face, and kiss her, with his drenched mouth, his thrusting hips into her, making her reach to his buttocks, to pull him, as if it was needed, he was not sure when it changed, from the slow movements, to the desperate, biting of neck pounding, and the words slithered between the teeth "damn, I missed you so much, missed this, the body you have, the smile, the face... damn."

He was pounding her, deeper as he started to raise his whole front of the body, and hold her legs, spreading them, holding her by her legs in the air, pushing deeper into her, each thrust. He knew he would not take long, it was her grip into his cock, inside her, that made it worse, it was her taste in their kisses, it was her scent in himself. Her hands in his lower back, pleading and inviting and her face, the surprised sensual female, wanting more.

He took his hand to her nipples and pinched it "fucking you is always so good." not eloquent, the writer had no words, unusual, he was just fucking her too much to think about words to describe it.

It was her own hips moving that gave her the right point to reach, his hands holding her strongly, made it hard to move around, but after it started hitting the points inside her body, she slithered, "yeeess" and she started to convulse, he could not hold it, and he didhold her hair, pulling her to him, and saying:

"cum with me, my petite, I want you to feel me inside you to make it delicious." She just did let go, again, and she felt it, as his own climax was, like his member, growing inside her, and his hands, clasped, gripping on her flesh, and his face, in a painful effort, grunting and shouting, for her, for her, it felt right, again, it felt completeness, to be there, reaching climax, for her, inside her, with her.