Her First Time Ch. 04

Dani

The closer we got to Alan's restaurant, the more nervous I became. This was happening. After a lifetime, I was going to see my first love. The limo pulled into the parking lot of 'Ryder's Bar and Grill'. When our driver, surprisingly, an older woman, opened our door, all I could do was sit. It was like I was in a trance, couldn't move. My mind went back to the last time I'd seen Alan, his very last words, "I love you, we'll make this work."

I cried almost steady the rest of that day and off and on for so long that I don't remember, seemingly forever. I knew then that it would likely be the end of our relationship, one that, until he accepted the Georgia scholarship, I'd assumed would be the rest of our lives. He tried to explain why 'Georgia', instead of Wazzu, but it didn't make sense to me, something about how their quarterback making the receivers look good and he was looking ahead to the NFL.

He was right and it had worked out for him. He'd ended up being drafted fifteenth, in the first round by the Tampa Bay Buccaneers. But he and I hadn't 'made it work'.

This will be the first time I've seen him since he got on the plane in Pasco that Tuesday morning, August 2nd. We kept in contact for a while, but after a year and it was obvious that 'we' weren't going to work out, we gradually lost contact. With his off-season training, he never came home again.

Then I met Robert and you know the rest. I don't regret a moment of our lives together and we have two wonderful children, still waiting for our first grandchild. And I don't want to wreck that life with a man I haven't seen for an entire lifetime. It's why I HAVE to stay strong.

All this went through my mind in a few moments as I sat in that limo seat in front of Alan's restaurant. It seemed as if every detail of our ten-month relationship (was that all the longer it was - seems so much longer now) was gradually coming back to me in stark, vivid detail.

When Robert finally got my attention I slid out of the leather seat and remembered the dress I was wearing, the painstaking efforts to make myself enticing. For what? To punish Alan for leaving me? To seduce him? No, not that. He wouldn't have needed any seducing. I know that Robert had virtually insisted on me wearing what I was, but I'm a grown woman, able to make my own choices. I wore this dress because I wanted to. Because as difficult as it's going to be, I wanted to be beautiful and sexy in Alan's eyes, not just in his memory. I want him to share in my frustrated libido.

We thanked Carolyn, our chauffeur, for the ride, and arm-in-arm, Robert supporting me, we walked into the unknown.

Alan was there, in his entrance lobby, waiting for us - for me. We stood, just looking at each other, me trying my hardest not to cry. I loved this man, wanted to spend my life with him. We took tentative steps toward each other, then hugged, his arms around me for the first time since August 1988, almost thirty-two years.

My desire for him, that had faded a little with my nervousness in the car, returned with a vengeance. He didn't kiss me, thankfully. I'd have been lost if he had. But then he backed away, "Daniella..." he hesitated, watching me wipe away the tears that had made their appearance, "you're so beautiful, more than I even remember."

His voice, so soft and gentle, just like I remember. I wanted so badly to kiss him, to make the last thirty-one years go away, hold him in my arms forever. My resolve wavered, almost giving way to my lust. But then I remembered my husband standing beside me and was finally able to speak, "Alan, this is my husband, Robert."

His big, powerful hand took Robert's and they shook. I wondered if Robert had realized just how close I'd come in that instant to letting myself be pulled into something unthinkable. Thankfully, the moment had passed and Alan led us to the table that had been prepared just for us.

Alan's presence made me remember the dress I was wearing, the bra that I wasn't wearing, how I looked to him and it sent a thrill through my body. I tried not to, but couldn't stop myself from quickly glancing down at his groin area. I saw what I had secretly hoped, his erection.

And I remember thinking that his body would likely be softer than he was at eighteen. I was so wrong. He had broad shoulders, incredible, thick arms, like he could have been a competitive weight lifter. I couldn't stop my mind from wondering what it would be like to make love with him. Even as an eighteen-year-old, he was incredible, but now! I wanted...

"You mind if I have dinner with you?" he asked, thankfully interrupting my dangerous train of thought.

I opened my mouth to tell him that I'd hoped he would when Robert spoke first, "I think Dani would be disappointed if you didn't. She's been looking forward to this for a long time."

He had no idea!

Our table was one for four with a beautiful flower arrangement on the white tablecloth, two sets of silverware, and cloth napkins in the center. When I looked a little surprised at only two sets, Alan told me, "I didn't want to be presumptuous, I'll have a third brought over."

The table was adjacent to a big window overlooking the bay, a similar view to the one from our balcony, except from right adjacent to the water instead of fourteen floors up. The colorful city lights reflecting were beautiful. I sat down and was a little surprised and a lot alarmed when Robert sat on the opposite side. It was like... I don't know, he was pushing us together?

Alan sat down in the chair beside mine and I tensed, remembering his ways. "Babygirl," he started, "that perfume... and your dress... you've grown up!"

I almost let out a whimper when I felt his hand on my leg, sending an electric sensation through my whole body. He could always do that with a single touch. But this time...

A waitress stopped at our table, leaving us three glasses of ice water and two menus. "I take it these are your friends you've been waiting for, Alan," she said.

He smiled at her, "They are," he motioned toward me, "knew this beautiful lady in high school. Haven't seen her since... knew her pretty well, in fact."

Yeah he did, every part of me. The way she smiled when he said that implied that she understood exactly what he was saying.

It was obvious that he had a good relationship with his employees. That made him even more attractive in my eyes.

And his fingers, rubbing little circles on my bare leg, right below my hemline. I was glad I hadn't worn any stockings or especially the slacks I'd originally planned. The feel of his hand on my bare skin was just, so erotic, driving me wild.

"Babygirl, tell me about you, your life."

'Babygirl'; Just hearing that word sent a chill through my body like none other. It was January. And like so many others, the memory came rushing back, detail by detail, even the date, January 23rd. It was snowing outside, hard. His parents were skiing so we were home alone at his house, doing what we did whenever we had an 'alone' opportunity.

I'd told my parents a little white lie, that because of the snow the night before and the bad roads, I didn't want to drive home, asking if it would be alright if I just stayed in their spare bedroom. Even the basketball game with Wenatchee had been canceled. I didn't mention that Alan's parents were gone for the weekend. I smiled to myself at that thought - they never would have guessed that of their nice little cheerleader daughter.

I have no idea how many times we had made love that night. Alan was cooking breakfast. I think I mentioned that even then he was a fantastic cook. He was making a shrimp omelet. I was so amazed at all the tiny details I could remember from so long ago.

I was wearing one of his white t-shirts. It went almost to my knees. Alan was concentrating on his omelet, not paying attention to me. I pulled the shirt off over my head, naked underneath it, and snuggled up to his back, tickling his ear with my tongue and whispered to him, "I'm horny."

He turned around, a big smile on his face and said, "Babygirl, you're insatiable," reached behind him turning off the stove, pushed the pan off the burner, and carried me to his bedroom, our lips locked together the whole way.

"Dani, you there?" his voice interrupted my thoughts, a hand waving in front of my face, bringing me back to the present. Robert had grown used to my thoughts wandering, especially over the last couple weeks.

"Sorry, was just thinking about something - the first time you called me 'babygirl'."

I wanted him to remember it, too. He did. The smile on his face, the look in his eyes when he stared at me, and most of all how his hand tightened on my leg, moving up to the inside of my thigh told me that he was remembering it. I put my hand on his on my leg and squeezed, maybe even putting a little upward pressure on it. If I'd thought that my libido was on fire before...

"Maybe we'd better order," I suggested. We hadn't even looked at the menu yet.

When I opened mine, Alan looked down, ostensibly at my menu, but I knew that wasn't what he was looking at, pointed at something. The only thing I was thinking of was his eyes on my tits, so exposed by that thin dress.

"Our grilled salmon is really good. I remember how well you liked it." I wasn't thinking about salmon or any food. Alan's hand had moved higher yet on my inner thigh, only inches from my soaking wet panties.

"Sounds good to me, I'll have that. Hon?" Robert asked me from across the table. He had to know what was happening under the table, it was almost all I could think of, wanting, needing to get out of here. Drag Alan to the bathroom and fuck him like we've never fucked before.

But I wouldn't. I kept telling myself that I'm a woman now, in control of my emotions. Robert and I will go back to our room, he'll fuck me and in the morning, we'll go home.

But I was almost desperate. For the man squeezing my bare leg, inches from my pussy. What I had feared when Robert first showed me this dress was happening... and more powerfully than I had even imagined. And I knew without looking how big and hard Alan would be. What would it feel like inside me...?

"I'll have the salmon, too," I managed to mumble, just as I felt a finger lightly tickling the center of my skimpy panties.

There was another dinner, with both our sets of parents. At the Olive Garden in Kennewick. No occasion, just that our parents had become friends and we went to dinner together, just that one time. I'd worn a short skirt, appropriate for a high school girl at the time. But what no one knew but me, and Alan discovered at dinner, was that I wasn't wearing any panties under the skirt.

Alan smiled at me like he was remembering that dinner as well. But this time, after torturing me, his hand retreated completely, up to the table.

At that other dinner, he was a little less 'refined' and I discovered how difficult it was to act naturally with two fingers pressed inside my pussy rubbing against my g-spot.

But this dinner had barely started. I couldn't let him. Just couldn't. I wanted it so desperately!

I felt almost naked. Not only from the skimpy dress I was wearing, the perfume that was flooding my senses, but the loss of Alan's hand on my thigh. I squeezed my knees together, trying to forestall the orgasm that was so close to overtaking me

Alan and Robert were talking. They seemed to like each other, Robert asking him, "Dani told me you never married?"

He put his hand over mine, his same hand that had just been tickling my panties, pulled my hand up to his lips and kissed the back of it, "I haven't, my high school girlfriend set a standard no other girl could match. Ruined me for life for anyone else."

My heart about stopped. Hearing those words in Alan's soft voice was so much different than reading them in a Facebook message. And the kiss on my hand sent shivers through my body! My entire being was overtaken by need. Everything else just faded into a blur.

And then our waitress brought our food. I know it was good and I complimented Alan over and over again, but I have no idea if it even had a taste, raw or overcooked. It could have been dried shoe leather substituted for salmon and I wouldn't have noticed. I think we had a couple drinks, too, but not sure. I remembered those fingers tickling my most private part. They never went there again.

Robert told Alan that I'd told him a good deal about our relationship before he left for Georgia. He even asked me if I'd tell him more about that nickname 'babygirl'. All I'd ever told him was that it had come after an 'energetic' night.

"Later?" I remember asking him. I couldn't do it now. My heart was already pounding in my chest and I was having trouble breathing. And trying to not show any of it, trying to look like the calm, confident high school science teacher that I was.

But I couldn't control my nipples. They were poking out through my dress, making my arousal obvious to all who passed, especially to Alan, the cause of it, and to my husband, who looked like he was enjoying every second of my discomfort. I had never wanted anything so badly as I wanted that man in my bed! Just once. What would it hurt?

I knew what it would hurt. It couldn't be just once. It could very likely destroy my wonderful marriage. My emotions were drowning me. I had to get out of there. "Excuse me, I have to use the restroom," hoping that my voice hadn't given me away.

I leaned against the lavatory, the door locked. I wanted so desperately to pull my panties off and plunge my fingers inside myself, but it felt like it would be a betrayal to my husband. I stood there until I felt like I had regained some control and checked myself in the mirror. I couldn't believe that that sultry woman looking out from the mirror was me. I'd never looked like that before. The makeup I'd gotten from that store had done its job. So had the perfume. And the dress. God!

I walked back to the table, confidently, not shaking like I was still feeling. I smiled when I sat down, "Much better," I announced to no one in particular. I wasn't. If anything, seeing that woman in the mirror...

Robert and Alan were talking about dessert. Alan suggested the fried ice cream, "My own recipe," he proudly announced.

Fried. Ice. Cream. Another memory flooded through my brain. Alan was playing around in the kitchen. Another time we were supposed to be out on a date but weren't. His parents were out on their own date. Alan had told them we were going to a movie. "I've heard of this, always wanted to try and make it," he said. He never used a recipe book, always his creation.

He mixed up nuts, flour, some other things I didn't even know, rolled scoops of chocolate ice cream in it and plunked it down in the deep fryer.

It was delicious, wonderful, crispy hot on the outside, frozen on the inside. He'd made one for each of us. We sat at the table and ate his delightful creation. When we finished, he said, "There's only one thing that tastes better!"

You already know what that 'one thing' was. We spent the next half-hour in 'our' bedroom, him doing nothing except tasting the 'one thing'. I came over and over from his tongue.

I needed to go to the restroom and relax again, but this time had no excuse. While my mind had gone to places it shouldn't have gone, the ice cream was delivered. When my husband commented how 'delicious' the ice cream was, I nearly orgasmed on the spot.

Alan, too. I know he was remembering that one thing even more delicious from the way he was looking at me, that glint in his eyes. It was the reason he'd suggested the ice cream, to be sure I'd remember.

And the way he licked his lips after every bite, he was savoring 'not' the ice cream.

Then it was gone. I had to get out of there. Away from Alan Ryder. It was almost like my life was at stake. We stood, ready to go, my heart pounding. And my husband, my stupid, clueless husband, "You have to stay here? We have a full bar in our room, join us?"

I wanted to scream at him, 'NO NO NO! WHAT THE FUCK YOU DOING?'

But I didn't. There was nothing I wanted more than for Alan Ryder to join us in our room. And nothing I dreaded more.

"I'm just extra here, they can do perfectly well without me, love to join you."

My heart sunk. It soared. My heart rate must have tripled in that instant.

I can't even begin to describe my emotions in the limo that was still waiting outside for us. Alan on one side, Robert the other, me in the middle. Alan's hand was on one knee, squeezing, rubbing; Robert's on the other.

They talked across me, about our hotel room, what a great view it has of the bay and the city; the balcony. The only thing I could think about in the room was the queen bed. Could I resist. Did I even want to? The answer to that was obvious.

I wasn't sure I'd even be able to walk when the limo parked in the porte-cochere in front of the main doors. My perfect gentlemen each took an arm in theirs as if they were walking a bride down the aisle. It was how I felt. A bride about to go on her honeymoon with the man she loved.

The same girl was at the front desk as the night before, the one who'd given the thong swimsuit to my husband for me to wear. She clearly recognized the man who was now accompanying us to our room and watched every step through the lobby, with that same knowing smile on her face.

Up the elevator, down the hall, it seemed an eternity. Robert put the key card in our door and it opened. He let me and Alan through in front of him. My entire insides were doing gymnastics inside my body. Once inside, standing in front of the bed, Alan turned me around facing him. "Babygirl, I never regretted anything more than leaving you," and he kissed me.

My knees gave out, he held me tight, our lips together, tongues groping, my eyes closed savoring this kiss as I'd never savored a kiss before. I was lost in my desire, our lips frantically crushing into each other.

He pulled away, looking into my eyes with those beautiful brown eyes I thought I'd never see again, reached around my neck and slowly pulled each end of the bow of the halter holding my dress up. I didn't stop him. Maybe I could have, but I didn't. He slowly lowered it, revealing myself to his eyes. "I've dreamed of this for years, probably thousands of times, never thought..." His words churned my insides.

I started to come to my senses, started to tell him, "Alan, I, I'm... Ohhh!" intending to tell him that I couldn't, I was married and loved my husband, when I felt his lips on my breast, sucking it into his mouth.

Instead, I wrapped my arms tightly around his neck, pulled him tighter to me, leaned my head back, and just stood there, moaning, enjoying. Nothing had ever felt better. I knew then that I'd lost the battle. I WANTED to lose this battle!

He switched to my other bare breast and I moaned anew, the pleasure more intense than I'd ever imagined it could be. Then his lips were on mine once again and I couldn't reach my tongue deeply enough into his mouth.

I pulled away, "Alan..." I wanted him... inside me. He knew, he recognized the desperation in my voice.

He pushed my dress the rest of the way down my body, then I felt how his hands were shaking when he pushed my panties down. The great Alan Ryder, Super Bowl winner, three-time Pro-Bowl, his hands shaking. For me!

He picked me up, straining like I was a puff of air, laid me on the bed, then stood back.

Everything else faded from the room except watching him, undressing. Chest and arms, chiseled muscle. I spread my legs, waiting, heart pounding.

His cock came into view; massive, more so even than my memories had acknowledged. He crawled onto the bed between my spread legs and once again, we kissed. More gentle this time, until he pulled away and I knew what was next, what my subconscious had craved for decades, what was now going to be a reality.