Finding Mary

In the past few months I have found myself missing my high school “girlfriend” more than ever. That wouldn’t be odd for a 19 year old, but I am in my mid-30s. I haven’t even seen Mary in over ten years. Nonetheless, I have missed her, in varying degrees, for two decades.

Mary was the first woman I fell in love with, and the only woman I have ever truly loved. (In all senses of the word. I have since had friends and lovers, but never have I found the two qualities in the same person.) She was a girl when we first met, but she defied juvenile classification. Mary has always been a woman. Not only that, she has always been my goddess. Not a goddess in the cheap, modern, bumper sticker sense, but a true goddess.

Mary’s intelligence intimidated most males, and she intellectually out dueled all who challenged her. Her mental toughness impressed me, but it was her originality and femininity that drew me to her. From the first, we fell into easy conversation that surpassed that I have found in any other relationship I have had.

Quite simply, there is no one like Mary. I found her beautiful, not because she fit a specific body type or look, but because her whole being inflamed me, and kept me up nights. I loved her personality and her presence in my life. As a result, I fell in love with her body. It became a temple beckoning me to worship.

Physically, Mary set the standard for beauty as far as I was concerned, but she also became the muse that has continued to inspire me for 20 years. She taught me to walk apart from the crowd, to explore music, art and culture. She walked her own unique path, though, and also appreciated Punk Rock and kinky double entendres.

In high school our physical relationship never went beyond kissing, but I immediately knew hers as the perfect kiss. The problem was that I didn’t know how I could continue to suppress my desire to explore, and love, her entire body.

Before too long Mary let me know that she too wanted to make love. I got scared. I was an adolescent, scared of taking that step, and scared of disappointing her. I made the biggest mistake of my life. I broke it off.

Mary transferred to another school, but we kept in touch, and down deep I assumed we would one day end up together. Before leaving for college, I visited Mary one last time. We took a late night walk through a vineyard.

A nostalgic walk quickly resulted in me touching her breasts, and caressing her bottom, thighs and mound. It was my first time experiencing this type of intimacy with a woman, but I felt at home with her. I felt one with her.

At my touch, her small breasts came alive, her nipples begged to be sucked, and her penetrated. Instead we settled for holding each other, and feeling our heart’s race. For the remainder of our time together that night, her body heaved against me, and my cock ached in delight.

In college we both pursued random infatuations. We kept in touch by occasional phone calls, but that was it. Mary found men who were gifted at pleasing her physically, but she always sounded lonely when we talked. I, on the other hand, searched for romance and passion, but instead found women who seemed vacuous in comparison to Mary. Gifted authors, great music ... everything reminded me of her.

When I touched myself I found that, in my very real fantasies, it was her lithe body I was making love to. Every time my cock strained, and my nipples engorged with blood, I found myself longing for her. My hands ran across my stomach, but in my mind it was her stomach I was touching. I would smell her freshly scented body, and could feel her back arch in my hands.

But I also began to long for what I had never enjoyed in high school. Her nipples between my lips and tongue. Hardening tits that soon demanded to be sucked and pulled by my subservient mouth. I dreamt of her ass in my hands. Her cunt pushed up against my face, driving into me, dripping passion down my cheeks.

In my mouth I could feel Mary’s clitoris growing under the massage of my grateful tongue. Her soft, but slender thighs embraced my face, and her teeth ground into my upturned palm.

I tried other fantasies, but they always faded away with images of some woman pleasing me. With Mary I certainly desired pleasure, but the thought of pleasing her is what kept me up at night.

During one of our phone calls, Mary admitted she had been with another woman. A close friend. This might excite some men, but I was heartbroken. The love of my life a lesbian? I wept with the thought that I wouldn’t be able to please her.

Mary insisted that her attraction to women was based on friendship, and that our relationship was the most important in her life. My fragile ego couldn’t take it, though. I longed for Mary, but I was scared of being relegated to second place. She had never lied to me, though, and my keeping her at a distance emotionally was a mistake.

Upon graduation, we decided that I should fly and visit her. It was proposed as a safe weekend together as friends.

When Mary picked me up at the airport, though, my heart gave way with emotion. My chest ached, my mouth went dry. It was obvious to me that this woman was my partner, and that I could not be her mere “friend.” My pride refused to let me share this thought with her, though.

At my hotel room she kept dodging my lame advances, and I assumed this was due to the fact that she was over me. The weekend ended without the sexual abandon I had hoped for.

When I returned home, I found a letter from Mary waiting for me. My hands trembled as I opened it, expecting a final brush off. I almost dropped the letter as I read the strong and creative handwriting that always demanded my full attention.

“Dear Sean, I love you. I have always loved you, and I will always love you more than anyone or anything. I’m sobbing, and trying to keep my tears off the paper. I told myself I wouldn’t cry when I wrote this, but damn it, why shouldn’t I cry? I’m not going to play games with you. Don’t play games with me. Friendship won’t work. I want all of you. I want to fall asleep with you. I want to wake up with you. I want to read my poetry to you. The poetry that no one else understands. I want to stay up all night talking, laughing, crying. I want to hear you sigh my name, and tell me you love me in a voice which cannot be doubted.

"I want, I need, gentle nights of endless kisses. Your mouth and tongue on my neck, breasts, stomach and thighs.

"I also need it to be you that I completely abandon myself to. Abandonment that culminates in days and nights of merciless fucking. I need to rake your body with my nails, bite your fingers with my mouth, and have you plow into me while I demand to be fucked!

"Our love should not be platonic, cannot be platonic, has never been platonic. I’ll suck your cock in ways you can’t imagine. I need to taste you, because I want your entire being. Physically, emotionally, intellectually. I want all of you.

"Just as I desire you, though, I need you to desire me. I want you to hold me, but I also want you to serve me, and to greedily lap up the juices dripping from my pussy when it wakes you up in the middle of the night, forcing itself down upon your face.

"I will seek to discover how to please you, and as I beg for your instruction, I hope you will listen to mine. If I want you to lick my ass, I need to know that this desire will make you hot. Maybe I’m a bit of a kink, but I want to explore every possible act of intimacy with you. Why? Because you are the only person I want to share my life with.

"I’m taking quite a risk in writing this. I’ve shown myself to be needy, but I hope this doesn’t make you think I’m available for occasional sex. It’s everything, or nothing. You must take all of me, and you only get that if I get all of you.

"I know I might be asking too much. If that is so, I only ask that you don’t call me again. Don’t write me. The past few years of casual “friendship” with you have tormented me. It’s not your fault, but I can’t take it anymore.

"If I don’t hear from, I won’t be angry. I will understand you decision. I will always love you.

"Love, Mary”

As I put the letter back in its envelope, I continued to tremble. I immediately envisioned a quick flight back to Mary, but some fear inside of me took hold. I put the letter away, and decided to give myself time to think about “things.” I respected her wishes, and never did contact her.

Days went by. Years went by. Today I’m married. And alone. I once assumed Mary would seep into a nostalgic, but safe world of memories. She’s still there, though. She inspires and entices me. Mary is still the standard against which all in my life is measured.

My wife has never desired sex, and we have never been close emotionally. It bothers me that I am probably making her as miserable as I am. I married her in hopes of a safe life. It is safe, but I ache for intimacy, friendship and passion. I’ve tried to obey my vows. I never cheated on my wife, until now.

Three months ago, I used one of those national search web-sites, and found Mary. I decided I had to write her one last time. I only hoped she would forgive me. It was a simple letter I dropped in the mailbox.

"Dear Mary, I’ve tried not to write, but I had to. You need to know I love you. That I have always loved you, and that I will always love you. You are with me every day.

"You have shaped my interests, and my passions. I am so much richer for having once received your love. I know you don’t want to see me again, and as a married man I know my role in life. Please know, though, that you were, and are, everything to me. I hope you have the life you deserve.

"You will always be my goddess.

"Love, Sean”

I assumed it was time to move on with life, but she wrote back. “Sean: You can’t write to me, make me cry, and then not visit me. I have been alone for almost two years. Yes, I have had relationships with both men and women. Get over it. None of them have fulfilled me. Come see me. Your ticket is enclosed. We need to properly say goodbye. Love, Me”

I quickly arranged a fake trip to visit a friend, and then flew the opposite direction to see the love of my life. The flight took forever, and my mouth went as dry as it had been when I was a teenager.

Walking out to the curb I saw an old pick up truck splattered with mud. Leaning against it was Mary. She looked more beautiful than ever. Her eyes had the same fire, but her hands twisted together. I didn’t know what was wrong, but later I learned she was as nervous as I was. As I walked to her I quickly noticed her graying hair, little pooch of a tummy, and lines about her eyes.

All of it simply made my heart race faster with the realization that Mary was a full grown woman. She was older, but she wore her age with even more dignity than before.

We embraced, and she melted into me. I smelled her familiar fresh scent. I pulled away quickly, though, with tears running down my face.

She looked injured, and must have taken my movements the wrong way. “Please,” I said a bit too loudly, “I’m just embarrassed to have an erection and cry in front of you at the same time.” She laughed, and pulled her stomach against my dick.

When Mary finally hopped into the cab I noticed that I was leaking pre-cum through my jeans.

Mary told me the drive to her condo takes about an hour. For a while we simply laughed, cried, and joked about all of the times we snuck behind the gym while in school. Her stereo played a soundtrack of our young lives. Punk, ska, new wave ...

Once we regained composure I learned that she was successfully writing children’s books for income, and poetry for fun. She looked over at one point, and stopped mid-sentence, noticing my expression.

Her eyes teared, and she whispered, “You’re proud of me aren’t you?” I simply nodded, and we held hands in silence, until she took an off-ramp in the middle of farm country.

After braking into the gravel shoulder of the road, Mary looked at me with an intensity I had never seen and said, “I’ve never felt so good about myself, so talented, and so sexual. Thank you Sean.”

Before I could respond, she hopped across the seat, straddled my lap, and took my face in her hands. The moon softly illuminated the inside of the cab, but it was soon eclipsed by her silhouette. Her lips came down to mine, her hair surrounded my face.

Soft kisses were quickly replaced by our exploring tongues. Mary sucked my tongue, cradled my head, and exhaled hot air through her nostrils at me. It was the most erotic moment of my life up to that point. I hiked her skirt up and found she was without panties.

Bare legs straddled mine, and her cowboy boots dug into my outer thighs. I found my hand pulled to the wettest pussy I had ever felt. My finger easily slid between her folds, causing her to shudder and yelp, “Rub my clit.” As I obeyed, and worked her engorged button between my fingers, Mary ripped my shirt open and tweaked my nipples repeatedly.

As I moaned, she bit my neck and I managed to push my finger into her sopping pussy. That beautiful clenching from her cunt drove her wild, resulting in repeated tremors. Mary’s face turned skyward, her mouth uttering an unknown language.

The beauty of her ecstatic face, framed by her now gray tresses, caused me to erupt in my jeans. When the gyrations faded, Mary fell against me, spent. Her sweaty hair and torso drenched me in a joy I had never felt. I had just pleased the woman who meant all to me.

After a few moments, Mary turned on the headlights, and jumped out of the truck. Once in the path of those bright lights, she wriggled out of her skirt, slipped off her blouse, and wiggled suggestively at me.

It was a beautiful sight, Mary clothed only by her vintage black cowboy boots, and sterling silver chain. It was an erotic act few women her age would undertake in that unforgiving light.

I noticed that her untrimmed bush was also peppered with gray hair, and that her thighs had gotten bigger over the years, along with her little tummy. She didn’t worry about that. She knew, as I now discovered, she was the sexiest woman on earth. The only woman for me.

While she turned, and wiggled her ass at me, I slid out of the truck. As quick as I could, I kicked off my shoes, slid off my pants, and pressed my rigid cock between the folds of her ass.

Mary’s arms stretched upwards behind her, and around my neck. Iron strong fingers massaged me and teased me. Meanwhile, my hands cupped my two small friends from long ago, and I pulled on tits that were larger than memory but just as hard.

In one quick move, I turned her and pinned her to the hood of the truck. Holding her hands back, I kissed her nose, her lips, and her neck. I made my way down both arms, at which point she whimpered, then screamed, “Damn you! Suck them now!” Still pinned and sliding across the truck’s hood, her left tit collided with my face.

Her sweat intoxicated my mouth, and I ran my tongue across both tits before settling on giving a good hard sucking to the right nipple, and massaging tweaks to the left.

Mary’s back arched off the truck, and she growled for me to kiss her wet crotch. Four hands were now kneading and twisting two very aroused tits.

My mouth drank in her salty tang, and then I sent my tongue into action massaging her swollen cunt. I felt her hand push me a little lower, and then heard, “Stick your tongue in.” She massaged her own pleasure dome, while I began to fuck her with my tongue, darting in and out as she dictated the frantic pace.

Most amazing of all were the sensations we both experienced, as her trained cunt repeatedly gripped my tongue.

As Mary’s pussy grew increasingly sloppy, her mouth uttered dirtier commands. “Suck my pussy Sean!” she groaned, and as her pubic bone ground into my face, I was surprised to hear, “Wet your finger with my juice. Slide it in my ass! Now!” As I slid the tip of my pinkie into her throbbing anus, she bucked against my face in wild thrusts that somehow demanded even more.

Finally she demanded it. “Oh God Sean. I need you in me now.”

As I kissed her with my now tangy mouth, she pulled my hair and slid down the truck’s wet hood, and guided herself onto my cock. We moaned in unison, and she pulled away, allowing herself to look at me with her deep green eyes. We were one.

Her eyes probed my soul, and I told her I couldn’t live without her. “I love you. You’re mine,” she responded, “Now fuck me!”

We struggled to maintain eye contact, while she held herself in position by pulling hard on my hair. Boots dug into the backs of my legs, while I gripped my darling girl’s ass, and bounced her on my cock.

My cum began to rush against my efforts to hold back. I warned her, but Mary would not let me out. My cum released into her womb just before I felt nails digging into my scalp, and a final bucking frenzy of Mary’s belly repeatedly slapping mine.

Exhausted, hair plastered to her brow and neck, sweat pooling on her lips and in her wrinkles, my goddess had never been as beautiful as she was at that moment.

She refocused her intense green eyes on me and simply said, “You’re mine now.” I was truly home.