EX-Sex can Sometimes be the Best

Ex- Sex Can Sometimes Be the Best

By Ghostwalker

(With input by IrishLass)

Like most stories of this kind, the best place to start is always at the beginning.

My ex-wife and I met while in college. She was a 20-year-old, single mother of one, and I was a 27-year-old looking to make a better life for myself. Now don't get me wrong, this is no cradle-robbing story. She was far more mature than most of the women her age and I was less mature than I should/could have been so we made a great couple. Unfortunately, things in life change and so after 7 years we separated and divorced. The divorce was far from being pleasant, most aren't, but we stayed 'friends' for the sake of the kids. And so life went on. She met another man and married him, while I remarried too. Skip ahead 15 years and she's divorced, after finding out her husband was embezzling from her company, and I'm a widower after my wife died of a heart defect that we didn't even know about.

It wasn't until our eldest son announced that he was getting married that things changed. As is customary both my ex- and I were expected to attend. What I didn't plan on was how I'd feel when I saw her after so many years.

The moment she walked in, I couldn't keep my eyes off of her. She was absolutely gorgeous! She stood 5 feet, 7 inches tall in bare feet but, as usual, was wearing 2 - 3 inch high heels. Her skin was tanned to the color of light-honey and I could just make out a tan line on the off-the-shoulder top she was wearing which instantly made me wonder if she'd taken up sunbathing au natural. She'd let her hair grow so the auburn tresses now cascaded down her back to the curve of her ass. Her blue-gray eyes still sparkled when she laughed and her lips were puckered and seemed to be begging to be kissed. Her bust was slightly larger than I remembered but the curve of her waist and hips along with her long, toned legs left little doubt that she still worked out several times a week.

"Good Evening, Joseph."

"Ouch!! Talk about things being cold!!" I thought. "Hello, Theresa. I'm glad to see you."

"Really? After everything that happened, I'd assumed you'd never want to see me again."

"Well, you know what they say about assumptions," I replied, immediately realizing that what I'd said could be taken two ways.

"Yes, well, shall we get this over with?" The icy tone had returned to her voice.

The Wedding Rehearsal went off without a hitch and we found ourselves at the rehearsal dinner shortly afterwards. As the evening progressed, everyone seemed to slowly drift away to join other friends until Tess and I were the only two left sitting at the table. As if by some unspoken agreement, I got up and took a seat next to her. In what seemed like minutes, we found ourselves laughing and joking with each other as we talked about our children and what had happened since our divorce.

"... I thought everything was great until I started to notice money missing from my business's account. Since my ex and I were the only two with access to the account it wasn't too hard to figure out who had taken it. What amazed me was that he didn't even try to deny it when I asked him about it. He just said he'd spent the money on his company car and 'business expenses' while he was traveling. It turned out the 'business expense' was a little blonde bimbo that he'd met at a conference. That was it! Over and done with. But what about you? I heard what happened to your wife."

"Yeah, she went in for a cardiac catheterization and never left the table. She had a heart attack and died as they were working on her."

"I'm so sorry to hear that."

"Thanks," I replied as I thought about my most recent wife, my eyes filling with tears.

"Come on," she suddenly said as she took my hand. "Dance with me."

We danced together, off and on, throughout the rest of the evening. It was during a slow dance that she leaned over and whispered in my ear, "I miss dancing with you."

I pulled away slightly so I could look into her eyes. "You always said you HATED dancing with me!"

"I lied. It was just that whenever we danced together I got ... you know," she blushed.

"And now?" I whispered.

"Maybe," she said softly, with a coy look on her face.

I started to reply but was interrupted by two of our sons.

"Dad, come here. We're having a debate with some of the guys and need your help."

I looked at Tess, and she smiled. "Go on. We can talk again later."

So, I joined my sons and helped them as much as I could but when I looked for Tess afterwards, she was gone.

I slept fitfully that night, dreaming about my wife and Tess, occasionally flipping the two of them or blending them. So when I got up the next morning, I felt like I'd been dragged behind a truck ... and I didn't look much better. Fortunately, everyone was too busy helping with the Wedding to notice.

The ceremony went exactly as expected ... more or less. I was seated next to Tess and found myself continuously stealing glances at her. Her hair was pulled back into a 'bun' exposing the soft contours of her neck and shoulders. She wore light-green eye shadow and black mascara that gave her eyes a mystic touch to them and a light-red lip gloss that she kept licking with the tip of her tongue. Around her neck, she wore a pearl necklace that I'd given her years before along with the matching pair of

earrings. She was dressed in a yellow, below-the-knee, strapless dress that seemed to extenuate every curve of her body, and Shalimar perfume that went right to both of my heads. I was barely able to stifle a groan and concentrate on the ceremony.

When it was over, I found myself sitting next to her at the Reception which made things even worse. I could feel the 'tension' building between us.

"No way. Not gonna happen," I kept telling myself. But things between us seemed to pick up right where they'd left off the night before. We talked, we laughed, we drank the customary toasts, and we danced.

It was during one of those dances that I suddenly felt her tremble in my arms. "Are you okay?"

"I ... mmmmmm ... I guess I ... I just need to go to the Lady's Room."

"Okay," I said as I released her.

She almost ran to the exit while I returned to my seat at the head table. She returned a short time later, her face slightly flushed.

"You sure you're okay? I could get someone to help if you need anything."

She looked up at me, her eyes ablaze. "Don't give me that?"

"What are you talking about?"

"You know damn well what dancing with you used to do to me. And I can tell what it's doing to you, too, " she taunted as glanced down at the bulge in the front of my pants that I'd been trying to hide.

"I'm sorry," I whispered, hoping no one would hear what we were talking about.

"Does it sound like I'm upset?"

"I .... mmmmmm ... I don't know what to say."

"Then don't say anything," she purred as she grabbed my hand and pulled me back onto the dance floor.

We spent the rest of the evening 'accidentally' rubbing and grinding against each other as we danced. Then, somewhere around midnight, our son and his bride slipped away, and the party began to wind down.

"So what now?" I asked.

"I dunno. Wanna come upstairs to my room? We can talk, maybe have a few drinks, and dance some more."

I laugh. "I guess great minds think alike."

"What do you mean?"

"I have a suite here in the hotel too."

"A suite?! Well look at you, Mr. Money-bags."

"Not really. The groomsmen needed a place to get ready this morning and we have the brunch planned for tomorrow so I figured I'd just stay here."

"What floor are you on."

"Third."

"Good. The kids are on the top floor in the Honeymoon Suite. Now, how about another drink?"

"You know how you used to get when you drank?"

"Yeah, so?"

"Okay," I said, shrugging my shoulders.

We stayed and danced until the band was ready to leave, then she linked her arm in mine.

"Ready?"

"You sure you don't want me to take you up to your room?"

"Absolutely not! My room is right down the hall from the newlyweds and I definitely don't wanna be there," she said with a slight slur.

"Okay," I sighed not sure what to expect.

When we got to my room, she walked to the drapes, pulled them open, and stood staring at the lake in the moonlight.

"Do you remember our first night in Hawaii?"

"Yeah. We had a fight and you called me a pervert because I wanted to leave the drapes and window open so we could hear the surf while we made love."

"I was wrong."

"About what?"

"You weren't a pervert. You were just being romantic, or kinky, or a little of both," she giggled.

"I think you've had enough to drink and need to go to bed."

"I think you're right," the slur in her speech suddenly disappearing to be replaced by a low, sultry tone, "Which way?".

"I ... aahhhhh."

"What?"

"I'm not sure about this."

"Why?"

"Because you've had too much to drink, and the kids are here in the hotel, and because you're my EX-wife, and ..." I never got a chance to finish because she cut me off.

"First of all, I have not had too much to drink! I've only had two, the rest were sparkling water, though I made sure nobody noticed. Second, the kids might be in this hotel but they're not in this room. And three, I wanna do this because I am your EX-wife."

"I don't understand."

She turned and stared at me, hesitating before she replied. "I've learned two very important things in my life from my ex-husbands. From you, I learned what it's like to make love and not just get screwed like I did when I was in high school. And Ben (her second husband), took me on ... what did he call it ... a journey to explore my sensuality and my sexuality."

"Care to explain that?" I asked, trying to stall as I thought about what might happen before the night was over.

"To do that I'm going to need a drink," she replied as she nonchalantly pulled her dress up over her knees and took a seat on the couch, crossing her legs, and letting her high-heel dangle from her toe.

"Want a glass of wine?"

"No. I think I'm gonna need something a little stronger. How about a gin and tonic?"

"Coming right up," I said as I moved to the minibar. "What the fuck am I doing?" I asked myself as I mixed her drink. "Or more to the point, what is she doing? Sex was an almost taboo subject the whole time we were married and now this ..." Not having an answer to either question, I finished her drink and walked towards the couch to give it to her. As I handed it to her, she leaned forward slightly giving me a look into the deep valley of her cleavage. I felt my cock jerk and quickly retreated to sit in a chair across from her.

"Where to start," she mused after taking a sip of her drink. "I guess the first thing to do is explain the difference between sexuality and sensuality because so many people get the two confused. Sexuality is just what it implies, how you enjoy and what you enjoy in a physical, sexual relationship. Sensuality, on the other hand," she paused as she took another sip of her drink, "has to do with the senses. How we see, hear, touch, taste, and smell things. So, basically, it's the flirting part. As an example, if I talk like this," she said in her 'normal' tone, "it's no big deal but if I talk like this," she finished in a deep, seductive tone, "it makes a whole lot of difference. And if I walk like this," she set her drink down on the side table, stood and walked towards me, her hips swaying side to side, "and run my fingertips across your cheek, well ... you can see it makes all the difference in the world."

I felt a chill run up and down my spine, as she ran her fingernails over my cheek and neck causing my cock to harden until I thought it was going to rip through the front of my pants. I took a deep breath, trying to maintain control, before I asked. "And ... mmmmm ... care to explain how you learned this stuff?"

Her eyes seemed to glaze over as she thought about how to answer my question. "Let's just say that I can tell you, first hand, that my friend, Jenny, is bi and that she enjoys a VERY full sex life."

"So you and Jen ...?" I interrupted.

She smiled, mischievously, and ignored my question as she continued. "I can also tell you that not everyone that attends a swinger's party participates in them, some just come to watch, and that, while I may be the boss of my own company, I sometimes like it when my partner takes control of things when we make love or ... fuck," she said, stressing the last word. "I can also tell you that, as far as I'm concerned, there's nothing more satisfying than a nice, warm creampie."

"Wow," I mumbled, wishing I had made myself a drink too. "Can I ask you another question?" I muttered as sweat broke out on my forehead.

"Sure."

"What have you done with my ex-wife."

"I'm right there," she crooned, "Just a bit older and a lot more experienced," she finished as she put her hands on my legs, and leaned over.

"Want to explain the more exper ...," I began to ask only to have her cut me off when she pressed her lips to mine. For a second, I questioned what was happening but then memories of all the good times we'd had together flooded my mind. The stuff that came later didn't seem to matter. I was overwhelmed by the taste of strawberry and cinnamon from her lip gloss, the aroma of her perfume, the scent of something far more primal, and the continuous probing of her tongue as it wormed its way between my lips.

"I hope we don't regret this," I sighed when we parted.

"I'm not worried," she whispered as she pulled away slightly, pushing my suit jacket off my shoulders, and beginning to unbutton my shirt. "I've been dreaming about this for months."

"You have?"

"Um-hum."

"Why?"

She took a step back and stood in front of me so she could look directly into my eyes. "You ask way too many questions."

"I know. I'm just trying to figure out what's going on here.

"In that case, you want me to be lady-like or should I just tell you?"

"What?"

"I've been fantasizing about this because you were one of the best damn lovers I've ever had!"

"Now, I know you're drunk," I said as I stood up.

"I AM NOT," she said, a touch of anger in her voice. "I've had just enough to make me horny and more than enough to make me want to f ...," she paused before continuing. "The simple truth is I've ... I've regretted the way things ended between us."

I shrugged. "What's done is done."

"I know, but it's about what's going to happen that I'm interested in right now," she finished as she lightly stroked her fingertips across my cheeks and neck again.

I felt my body tremble. "You still remember how to get to me," I whispered.

"Of course. And I'm sure you still remember how to turn me on, too," she replied in a deep, sensual tone as she dropped her hands to my shirt and finished unbuttoning it. "I remember you like this," she whispered as she kissed my neck, "and this," she continued as she slipped her hands inside my shirt and traced her fingertips across my chest, "and this," she said as she slid one hand down to my belt and unbuckled it before slipping her hand inside and wrapping it around my cock.

My arms, instinctively, slid around her waist and pulled her closer. I felt, more than heard, the deep moan that rumbled in her chest. "I gotta be fucking nuts! This is my EX-wife!" I reprimanded myself. I loosened my grip and was actually thinking about running, not walking, from the room to get myself out of the mess I was in. Then it dawned on me. I was in MY room. I had nowhere to run.

"Don't go," she whispered, as if she knew what I was thinking. "I'm not looking for anything permanent, just one night. After that we can go our separate ways or ... see what happens," she murmured as she put her hands on the side of my head and pulled me down until our lips met, once again.

The kiss started slow, almost hesitant, but quickly became more passionate. She bit my lower lip, tugging on it. I'd never experienced anything like it yet it triggered something and I groaned. She pressed her tongue against my lips, spreading them apart.

Slowly, I opened my mouth allowing her to enter. Her tongue slid inwards, poking and prodding, sliding across my teeth, exploring every inch. I felt a surge of desire wash over my body and my cock hardened even more, pressing against the junction between her legs.

"Yessssss," she hissed as she pushed me back into the chair and straddled me. Her arms wrapped around my neck and she kissed me more passionately than she'd ever done before.

I returned her kiss and heard her moan again, this time louder. Our tongues twisted and turned, thrusting and probing in a battle as old as time.

As if they had a mind of their own, my hands unbuttoned the back of her dress and slid inside to caress her velvety-soft skin. "No bra," I thought as I explored every inch of her back while moving lower and lower.

"Mmmmmm," she groaned into my mouth.

When I unbuttoned the very last button, she pulled away and stood up. Her dress slid down her body to pool at her feet and all I could do was sit and stare, my mouth hanging open.

"Close your mouth, sweetie, you'll catch flies," she joked.

"Holy shit!!! You mean you've been dressed like that all day?!"

"Of course not!! What kind of woman do you think I am?" she teased as she spun in place giving me a complete view of her body.

All she had on was her jewelry, including a set of delicately patterned silver rings around her nipples, a black garter belt that was holding up a pair of flesh-colored nylons, and her high heels.

"What about ...?" I stammered.

"Ohhhhh, you mean my underwear? When I got dressed this morning I WAS wearing panties and a bra, if you have to know."

"So ...?" I started to ask, suddenly realizing I wasn't sure I wanted to know.

"It's all your fault."

"MY FAULT?"

"Yep," she replied as she put her hands on her hips. All the bumping and grinding you ..."

"ME? If I recall right we were both ..."

"Yes, you! You got me so turned on I came right there on the dance floor! Do you remember how I had to go to the Lady's Room? My panties were so wet they were dripping when I took them off and my nipples were so hard that the bra was making them throb. Sooooooo, I took them off and left them hanging on the back of the bathroom stall. Which means someone is going to get a very naughty surprise tonight when they clean up," she snickered.

"I ... I ... I," I stuttered.

"And if you don't believe how wet I was maybe you should look ..."

She didn't finish but pointed at the front of my pants. A wet spot covered my lap where she'd been sitting only a few moments before. I shook my head. "This has got to be some kind of a crazy dream"

"If it is, let's make the most of it," she said as she bent over a chair, exposing her pussy to me.

The outer lips were red and swollen while her inner lips were pink and moist. Small rivulets of her juice were dripping from the dark tunnel between them and down her inner thighs towards her knees. And when I looked closer I could see the slightest hint of a patch of auburn hair above her womanly charms.

"Don't just sit there," she said softly. "I'm so fucking wet. I need your cock deep inside me."

"But ... I mean ..."

"Shhhhhhh. We can talk later. Right now I need to feel your cock sliding in and out of me. I need to feel it stretching me and pressing against the back of my pussy."

The next few moments were like a dream. My clothes seemed to evaporate and I found myself standing behind her, my hands on her hips, and the head of my cock rubbing against the sodden lips of her pussy.

"That's it, lover," she said over her shoulder. "Put your cock in me. Fuck me. Fill my pussy with your cock just like you used to."