Flashback

"And were you enjoying it?" she asked.

"Yes, and so were you. You were groaning when I rubbed your nipples."

"Yes, I do that, or at least I used to." I noticed another button had been released and I could see the top edge of her lacy bra. "What happened next?"

I wasn't at all sure I wanted to tell her what happened next. I adjusted my trousers again, not that it really helped, but it was a stall. Then I said, "When we came out of the north end of the tunnel that leads into Marin you leaned over and released my pants and pulled my cock out. Then you leaned forward and begin to suck on it. You were rubbing your naked tits against my lower chest at the same time."

"Was it good. Was I good cocksucker?"

"Oh god yes. There were a lot of girls at BYU who had given me head, but none who could match what you were doing that night."

My late husband always said I was a good cocksucker. He certainly should have known, given the number of coeds who gave him a blow job to pass his psych 101 class." She laughed. Then returning to our therapy, she asked, "Did you cum?"

"I don't know. I was about to but you adjusted the way you were leaning over me and when you did that you pulled some hair out of your face and wrapped it around your finger and that's when I found myself back here."

I had been looking at my lap while I spoke to her, unable to make eye contact as I described her cock sucking. When I looked up I saw that she had released yet another button on her blouse so I could see much of her bra. I thought I saw her quickly pull her hand away from her chest. Had she been dipping her fingers into her bra cup and fondling herself? Her chest was still very flushed.

"Well that's quite an interesting story," she said, still not rebuttoning her blouse. "But I do need to get home and feed my cat."

She paused, thinking and starting to twist a lock of hair around her finger before I said, "No."

"Oh yes, of course." Another pause as she thought.

I was starting to pick up my papers that I had set on the table next to my chair when she spoke up, "Can I interest you in joining me for a drink. It's been a long day for both of us, and I promise I will keep my fingers of my hair. I do need to feed the cat so perhaps we can go up to my place in North Berkeley. It should be cool and lovely on the back deck now. October is the one month that gets a little warm in Berkeley, don't you think."

I looked at her for a moment and said, "I think that would be lovely. Having a drink after I just ended fifteen years of marriage to the wrong woman and having it with an attractive woman--an attractive woman I haven't seen since she gave me a tab of acid 20 years ago." I smiled. "I can't think of anything else I would rather do. As long as you keep your finger out your hair, that is."

She laughed and leaned forward to put her shoes on, showing me a good deal of attractive cleavage as she did so. Oh well, I thought. If she isn't going to worry about not having buttoned up her blouse, I'm not going to worry about the boner that is so poorly hidden beneath this pair of dockers I am wearing. I enjoyed my view of her cleavage, and noticed she looked carefully at the lump beneath my trousers.

We retrieved our cars from the parking structure below the office building and I followed her up to her home. It was on a street off of the upper end of Euclid Street in North Berkeley--a classic North Berkeley Craftsman built around the beginning of the twentieth century. It was surrounded by the tall Eucalyptus trees that are endemic to North Berkeley. Some call them an invasive species but I find them beautiful. She led me through the house to a shaded back porch. There was a large back yard that was terraced and ran up the hill to another big stand of Eucalyptus trees and a couple of second growth redwoods, maybe 60 feet tall. It was a very beautiful and very private back yard. If she had neighbors there was no clue of their presence from this yard.

"Gin and tonic?" she asked.

"Yes, and don't spare the gin. It's been a strange day."

"I'm sure it has," she agreed.

"I'll be a moment. I need to get out of these work clothes."

She returned a few minutes later bearing two large tumblers of gin and tonic. They were as promised, not light on the gin. Her clothing had changed as she predicted. Now she wore a pair of jeans and a blue tank top. Neither garment was new, the jeans showing points of wear, but not like the pre-worn versions the kids like to buy these days. The jeans were just a pair she had obviously owned for a long time. I've always liked women in jeans. Nothing shows off a woman's ass like a snug pair of jeans and these were certainly doing the job. It had broadened significantly since she gave me the acid tab down the hill from here at the Dead concert, but I remained convinced that she was the same person.

The tank top fit her loosely and did little to disguise the fact that she had abandoned the bra she had been wearing earlier. Like her ass, her tits were bigger and softer than they had been twenty years ago. But, what the hell I thought, my beer belly is a good deal bigger now also.

We sat on a sunny portion of a grayed redwood deck in opposing Adirondack chairs. She held up her tumbler and said, "Here's to five o'clock on Friday, to your divorce, and to all my patients staying happy and secure all weekend, I hope." We each took a long drink and sat back in our respective chairs.

"You may have noticed," she said. "I put my hair in a pony tail to try and inhibit my tell. I want to have a pleasant drink this afternoon, without you tripping off into your past."

"Thank you," I said. "This place is beautiful. How long have you owned it?"

"Since my father died ten years ago. I grew up in this house. When he passed my Mother didn't want to have anything to do with it. She is still living in a loft above her studio down on San Pablo. It's not a good neighborhood, but it's what she wants." She seemed to want to talk, which was fine with me.

"You know," she said, "My late husband and I used to come out here on warm days after work and sit and drink gin in the nude. He really didn't have much use for clothes, except of course when they were socially required, which is of course most of the time." She shook her head. "Oh Alvin, Alvin. I do so miss you."

"Alvin?"

"That was his name. Alvin Wannamaker. Rutherford was my father's name. Well, I think he was my father. My mother's always been a little vague about who my father actually was, but she was married to him when I was born.

"Alvin was a nice Jewish boy from New York who came out here to study psychiatry and couldn't leave. His mother never forgave him." She took a long pull on her drink and chuckled. "His mother always said he couldn't leave because he couldn't get by without schtuping me. He always said it was the weather." She smiled. "I think his mother was right. We used to schtup right here on this porch; and in that hot tub over there; and out there on the lawn; and in the back seat of the car on the driveway late at night," she said gesturing here and there with her drink. One night a cop came by and told us we had to quit. Who was watching us at two in the morning besides that pervy cop? We schtuped in the car the very next night just to get even, or something. She smiled and shook her head.

"Schtup. What a funny word for fuck. Alvin loved to fuck."

"How long has he been gone," I asked

"Three years."

Can I ask what happened. But if you don't want to talk about it don't answer."

"No, no. It's fine. After all, talking is what I tell my patients to do. Three years now. He was shot by the angered husband of a patient."

She shook her head. "He may have been schtuping his patient. Alvin was like that. Just couldn't keep that pecker in his pants. But I knew that going in. I mean when I married him. I knew there would always be others.

"What a waste. He was such a fine man, a sweet, loving, humorous man and my god did he love to schtup." She shook her head and took another long pull on her drink.

"And you weren't bothered by that, by his extra-curricular schtuping?"

"Me--the ex-groupie to half the 60's rock bands in the Bay Area? Just because I gave up the drugs and went to college and then med school, internship, psychiatric residency, post doc research, and on and on, doesn't mean I became celibate. I schtuped may way through every one of them. I met Alvin during my psychiatric residency at Stanford. Alvin and I married, but we had a very open relationship." She laughed. "I seem to like the word schtup, tonight. It's Yiddish, just like Alvin." Then she took a long pull on her gin and tonic, although I was beginning to wonder if she had any tonic in her drink.

"It's a good word," I said. "It wasn't used on the ranch in Salmon where I grew up, but it's a good word. You've had a very different life than me. I'm just a Mormon boy from a ranch in the middle of nowhere in Idaho."

"I've heard it's beautiful. Alvin used to go to a shrinks' conference in Sun Valley occasionally. He said it was beautiful. He liked to take one of his post-doc students with him. Mainly to schtup her, I think.

"Salmon's way different from Sun Valley. About the only thing they have in common is being in the mountains. Sun Valley is about wealth, lots of wealth, all earned or inherited elsewhere by people who come to Sun Valley to impress each other with their wealth. Salmon is about a few people trying to scratch a living out of raising cows or logging and usually barely getting by. But the mountains are beautiful in both places."

"So what were you doing in high school? I was in a young women's prison camp run by nuns."

"I was doing what any good high school kid does--trying to get laid, with very little success. I also was regularly getting up at 2:00 a.m. on a 10 degree night to go out to the calving barn and stick my arm up a cow's uterus and drag a calf out into the world."

"What?"

"We breed cattle for a lot of characteristics, but efficient birthing doesn't seem to be one of them. A lot of them need help."

"Then there is branding and castrating the young steers. And of course inoculating them with all manner of drugs you don't want to know about unless you plan to become a vegetarian, which I'm not by the way. Herding and roping cattle looks exotic on the rodeos you see on TV, but it's just work, usually hot and dirty, unless it's wet and dirty, or cold and dirty, or both."

"I see why you stayed in college. So you're a real cowboy."

"Not anymore. My brother runs the ranch now and he's welcome to it. I ride BART over to the City and work from my office on Sansome Street. Once in a while I have to fly somewhere, but mostly I send faxes, cables, telexes, and Fed Ex packages full of drawings to help people try to fix projects they have screwed up. Believe me it beats cowboying all to hell."

"Would you mind if I take my top off," she said. "Alvin and I loved to be naked out here." She was peeling it over her head before she finished asking.

"Go to it Mam."

"Mam?" she said as she tossed her tank top to the side. "Is that a cowboy word?"

I laughed. "You have lovely tits Mam. Different, but just as nice as they were in 1971." They were bigger and softer than in 1971 and they hung down farther on her chest. I really wanted to put my face between those tits as I sat and stared.

She leaned back in her chair soaking up the sun on her chest and smiling. "Yeah they were great tits in 1971. Guys loved them."

"So you admit it was you."

"I didn't say that."

"Well, let me help you," I said. "There is more about my second trip that I didn't tell you."

She scowled and stuck her tongue out at me. "I hate patients that leave out important details. What else happened?"

"I told you that you were sucking my cock after we got off the Golden Gate Bridge, right."

"Yes and you said I was a great cocksucker, but all the guys say that. You didn't answer my question about whether I made you cum."

"I know. You didn't."

"I didn't make you cum? What happened?" She sounded disappointed.

"Well just as we were about to peel off the Freeway on the first exit to Mill Valley, you told the driver to keep going to the Blithedale exit. Then you moved yourself around and sat down on my cock. You fucked me furiously all the way to a house back up in the hills. The driver had just pulled into a narrow little driveway when you came with a groan that squeezed the cum out of my cock."

"Yeah, it was a fucking mess wasn't it."

"So it was you wasn't it?"

"Yup. I wasn't holding back to be mean. I wanted you to get your buried memory out."

She smiled. "I schtuped you good didn't I. We did it several more times that night. I was impressed with your staying power."

"I don't remember anymore. My last little visit to my lost weekend ended as I felt your cunt squeezing the hell out of my cock just as I blasted off into you."

"Do you want to revisit the rest of the weekend?" She was reaching for a few stray strands of her hair that had escaped from her ponytail.

"I don't know. Will it be bad?"

"No. You know, Friday night we had more sex. Then on Saturday we did some Mescaline tea and more sex. You had some pretty strong hallucinations from the Mescaline. You were telling us about watching mountains walk from one side of the valley to the other, but it didn't frighten you. You screwed a couple of other girls that day while I watched. They loved you. We all agreed that you had a great dick. On Sunday we did some Peyote. You seemed to have a conversation with God and told him that the Mormon church was, well, not good in your view. You said he shrugged his shoulders. There was more sex,and by the time we headed home on Sunday night you were pretty much worn out. Do you want to see it?"

I thought for a moment and said, "Okay, why not." She did her little thing with her hair and I checked out for, I guess, half an hour. It was pretty much as she described. The sex was good. The walking mountains were really cool. It wasn't God I talked to. Just Brigham Young and you can't really expect him to agree with my objections to the church. There was no Monday. I was just sleeping off all those drugs.

When I came to, Karen was completely naked. There was a refreshed G&T setting on the table next to my chair. She asked, "Well, how was it?"

I took a sip of my refreshed drink and said, "Pretty much as you predicted. The sex was good. The hallucinations weren't too bad. I really liked the walking mountains. Some old Indian I knew growing up had told me about those. They were pretty cool to actually see. Brigham Young was boring, like most preachers. I won't say I don't believe in God, but I'm pretty sure Brigham Young and Joseph Smith never talked to him. And you're right, I was exhausted by the time you got me back to Berkeley."

"Alan," she said. "Let ask you a question." She was playing with her large tits while she talked. Her nipples had gotten huge while I was gone. "When was the last time you got laid Alan?"

"Well it's been awhile. Maybe three years and it wasn't very good before that. Sex was one of the problems with my marriage."

"Often is," she said. "Well Alan, it's been about the same for me, but as I recall from 20 years ago, you're a great fuck. I know this is kind of forward of me, but would you like to fuck me? Fuck me good and hard tonight?"

"I think that's an offer I can't refuse. Let's start with a bed. We can move to schtuping on the back porch later."

We went inside, and my cock was hard as a rock, sticking straight out when I pulled my clothes off. Karen walked up to me and stood in front of me stroking my prick. "Oh yes it's just as nice as I remember." She pulled me to the bed. "Let's start with you sucking on my tits."

We flopped down on the bed and I started kissing her. She was a really good kisser, soft lips, a tongue that did all kinds of obscene things to my mouth, my lips, my ears, my throat. I couldn't remember that we had ever kissed before. The whole time I was using my hands to explore her big soft jugs. Just marvelous. Even better than twenty years earlier and she had great tits then. Eventually I pushed her over on her back and begin sucking on those big engorged nipples. That made her groan just like she had twenty years ago. I was going to go down on her, but she stopped me.

"No, not now Alan. You can do that later. Just fuck me now. I need it. It's been a long time and I need it."

"Okay, but I have to warn you I may not last long. It's been a long time for me." I started in classic missionary style. My cock slid easily into her hot wet pussy. Oh god that felt good. It really had been three years since I had been laid.

Karen was enjoying it just as much as me. "Oh fuck Alan. That's so good. It's been so long, so fucking long and your cock feels so good filling me up like that."

I started pumping hard and I was right and so was she, neither of us lasted long. Within what seemed like a totally inadequate time both of us groaned as our bodies savored the most delicious orgasms. Our timing was perfect with perfectly matched orgasms, just as though we had been lovers for twenty years.

We lay there recovering our breath. "Wow," I said. "Was I as good as twenty years ago?"

She giggled. "Oh yeah, but then I had not been celibate for three years before that time. More like twenty four hours in those days."

She kept talking. For a woman who has to spend her working hours listening to people, she sure likes to talk, I thought. "You know what I like after sex?" she asked.

"No. I hope it's not a cigarette?"

"Oh god no," she laughed. "That's such a cliché. I don't even smoke dope any more, much less tobacco."

"Okay, so what do you like after sex?"

"Pizza. Before Alvin passed we used to have the North Side La Valls Pizza on speed dial. It's the one down at the foot of Euclid."

Yeah, I know it. They have good pizza." I was spooning her now with my hands cupping her big tits from behind.

"The kid that did their deliveries even got used to me answering the door in the nude. Let's have a Pizza while we recover. I have plans for you tonight cowboy, but we need to keep our strength up."

"Okay, but just pizza this time, no Acid, Mescaline, or Peyote, okay."

No, but I need to get to my phone and order the pizza so quit mauling my boobs for a minute while I get to the important part of tonight organized--the pizza."

She still had La Vals on speed dial and twenty minutes later the doorbell rang. Karen insisted on shocking the pizza dude by answering the door in the nude, but it turned out to be a young woman so that whole thing was kind of a bust. I had a good time teasing her about it. What if the pizza dudette, as we took to calling her, had been a lesbian, and how did Karen know she wasn't?

We worked on a bottle of red wine as we ate the pizza, in the nude of course. When we finished, I proposed we go back to bed. "But this time I get to decide how we're doing things," I said.

"Okay fair enough cowboy," she said. "If I recall from twenty years ago you were pretty proficient so what's your pleasure?"

"I told you before I want to eat you."

"Oh yum."

"I've loved eating pussy clear back to my BYU days, but my ex-wife didn't like it. Sex was one of our problems."

"So you said. You seem pretty good at sex, so I have surmise it was her problem."

"No, no. I'm not doing the fault game. Never mind that. Let's get back to schtuping."

We returned to the bedroom where she flopped on her back on the bed with her legs spread and said, "Do me cowboy."

"Yes Mam."

I dropped to my knees between her legs, but I didn't just launch into her. It had been a long time since I had had a woman this way and I wanted to savor it. I started by picking up a leg and making love to her foot with my tongue, her toes, her arch, the sides of her ankle, working up to her calf and the back of her knee, and then repeating the process on the other foot. From there I kissed my way up the inside of her thighs--one at a time stopping just short of her pussy and beginning back at the back of the knee on the other side.