Her First Time Ch. 07

Alan led me into the house, not to his bedroom. I knew by then the approximate steps and directions, and he turned opposite. I presumed we were in his living room, which was confirmed when he helped me to sit, which turned out to be on a couch. He sat down beside me and a moment later, I felt his hands in my hair, releasing the gag from my mouth. I could do nothing except stare into the darkness straight ahead of me, but at least could move my jaw and close my mouth.

"I think we're through with this," he said, "it's served its purpose."

I worked my jaw up and down, back and forth. It felt good to be able to move my mouth again, although I'd gotten used to it. "Ahh, that feels good, thank you."

I leaned over toward him, longing to turn my head toward him, "Kiss me, Alan, I've been needing it all day."

He twisted around, I pulled at my arms, wanting to wrap them around him, the torturous thing still trapping them, felt his breath, his lips on mine. I moaned into his mouth, our tongues mingling. A hand went between my legs, rubbing, and another groan escaped me.

We sat on the couch, our lips locked together, Alan's fingers pressed inside me, I have no idea how long but long enough that I was frantic. I wanted him.

He stood, picked me up, and, our lips locked together, carried me to the bedroom, setting me on the bed. It felt like an eternity ago that we'd been in this room, almost unbelieving what had happened here.

Wordlessly, he began unlacing the collar from around my neck. The one thing filling my mind was how good he was going to feel, inside me once again. He pulled each lace out so slowly, like he was savoring each one. When he finished, he asked me, "You ready, baby girl?"

I nodded, at least now I could nod a little, tensed my neck muscles because I knew from before how it was going to feel when he pulled it off. I didn't want my head flopping like it had earlier.

"I wondered how much of the crazy, sexy girl from high school was hidden away in there," he said as he took the collar from around my neck. "Guess we found out, huh."

I almost forgot for a moment that I could talk. "Thought I'd left that girl in the long-ago past."

"You ever show that side of yourself to your husband?" he asked.

"Maybe a little, long time ago," I lied, not wanting to reveal the truth. I hadn't felt like that for the last thirty-one years, ever since Alan left for Georgia. I hoped Robert was going to be ready for a new Daniella when I got home. The mature, 'mom' Dani was going to have to take a back seat on the bus. I'd heard it and never given it a lot of thought, but I much preferred the term 'MILF'.

He'd started fooling with the strap around my back, releasing my arms from their prison of the last several hours. "Think I'd rather have you naked for a while."

A few moments later, that's exactly what I was, naked. And it felt so good. Then I felt his hand on the back of my head, lifting the elastic of the blindfold, "The lights are turned way low, your eyes aren't going to like the light for a bit."

He was right. Even the dim light seemed like looking straight into the sun. I scrunched my eyes shut, just letting them flicker open a tiny bit.

I eventually did get them open and Alan was sitting on the edge of his bed watching me, looking like the only thing he wanted was to devour me. This man, not my husband; his handsome, dark chocolate skin, fully dressed in a smart-looking sports shirt and slacks. It felt weird and a lot... sexy, being totally naked with him still dressed, looking at me like he was. That alone would have made me wet if I hadn't already been. He leaned over and kissed me, taking my breath away with the intensity. "I liked that girl you were earlier," he said, "but I think I like the woman even better," sucking my nipple in his mouth.

I couldn't help it, but even after being blind for so long, I closed my eyes again, intertwined my hands in Alan's hair, and let the exquisite feelings flow through me - straight to my naked pussy.

Okay, I'll admit it, that little foray into exhibitionism had really turned me on. I'd never have expected that something like that, so far out of the comfort zone for a high school science teacher that it was a whole 'nother universe, could be such a turn-on. But it had been and a fully dressed Alan sucking my naked tit was only exacerbating the situation.

I couldn't have stopped the moans even if I'd wanted to, feeling Alan's lips on my breasts and his hands exploring the rest of my body.

I remembered a time I'd had to quell my moans. My parents had gone to dinner, Alan came over and we were in my bedroom making out. I was supposed to be studying for finals, which is what I'd told Mom and Dad before they went out on their dinner date. Alan was doing much as he was doing now, except we were both naked when I heard the front door open and close way earlier than it was supposed to, then Dad's voice complaining about the restaurant being full.

Alan, at that moment, was in the process of very effectively tonguing my eighteen-year-old pussy. When I squeezed my legs together in a momentary panic, it only encouraged him to dig in all the deeper, gripping my hips and pressing his mouth inside me, forcing me to stifle the moans that he was doing his best to force out of me.

That was the memory going through my mind as I felt Alan's tongue and lips slowly working their way down my tummy... to my belly-button... and below.

Alan had to spend the night in my bedroom that night for fear of awakening them by leaving. They were light sleepers and their room was right next to mine; much of the night with his cock firmly embedded inside my cum-filled pussy. Stifling the moans out of fear of discovery only intensified the sex.

I don't even know why I thought of that. I sure wasn't stifling my moans when Alan's lips found my pussy this night. Matter of fact, I heard my voice practically screaming out, "Oh fuck, Alan!"

Which made Alan chuckle. I didn't need his chuckling, I needed his sucking - my clit. "Remember how you used to talk so dirty when we fucked?"

It seemed there wasn't anything that one of us didn't remember. The 'fuck' word was quite often part of my lovemaking vocabulary with Alan. Until recently, I don't think Robert had ever heard me use that word.

But the spell was broken, his sucking ended. Alan scooted off the bed and stood, beginning to unbutton his shirt. It was a reminder again that we weren't eighteen. Alan wasn't the strong, but skinny eighteen-year-old kid, I used to know. He was a man: broad, strong shoulders; thick, muscular arms, all encased in his dark brown skin. I think I actually might have begun to drool a little.

It had all been so quick that first night. Was that only last night? One day ago? It seemed impossible.

But this time, Alan took his time. "You used to like watching me undress... looks like you still do."

He was sliding his slacks down. There weren't any shorts on underneath them. His cock was... I don't even have any words. I was already feeling it inside me again. Jerry had been nice... better than nice, actually. It was so different with him; first time, no idea what he even looked like. But Alan...! 'Man-sized, fully developed, maybe that's the best description, not eighteen anymore.

I closed my eyes for a brief second, remembering: last night; earlier tonight; and craving him all over again. My pussy was gushing at the thought.

"You willing to try one more toy, babygirl?"

I never even thought before I answered, "Yes," I told him, just wanting him inside me, my mind blank to anything else, spreading my legs apart in anticipation.

He turned, out the door, then back in a matter of seconds, before I even had a chance to react. Carrying a round, metal hoop, probably eighteen-twenty inches in diameter with a bar down the center. I was confused, had no idea...

"Tuck your legs up, babygirl, against your chest."

I did, hugged them there with my arms around my knees in a fetal position, watching Alan, still no idea what he was going to do.

He unclipped and removed the bar and slipped the hoop over my thighs and back, lifting me up off the bed just a little, slipping it up to the back of my knees, holding my legs in that position. Then he slid the bar over my tummy, latching it in place, virtually locking the hoop in place so it couldn't slide back off, thereby trapping my legs against my chest and tight together.

I could swing my lower legs up, but my knees and above were trapped in that fetal position, legs tight against my chest.

"Roll over, see how it feels," Alan suggested.

I did, trying to move around using my hands and legs from the knees down. It was hopeless, felt so weird. That bar down the middle holding the hoop in place.

Alan positioned me back on the bed on my back. "Now, the point of it," he said, moving his body over me, positioning himself. I nearly panicked, he couldn't!

But he did, I felt his cock at my entrance, instinctively tried to part my legs for him but they were held tight. He started to push, "Ohh, fuck, fuck, fuck!" I clenched my eyes shut, so fuckin' tight!

"You okay, babygirl, want me to stop?"

"Uhuh, No," I took deep breaths, again remembering my Lamaze. "Don't you fuckin' dare stop!" I'd never in my life felt anything like this! He was pushing me apart, but I didn't push. There wasn't room, and yet...

"Ahhh, baby girl, so good!" He kept pushing inside me, my legs held together like they were in a vise. The night before had been NOTHING like this!

Alan continued his pushing and my hands grasped at the bed, then were around his back, fingernails digging into his skin. Every inch inside me felt like... he was so fuckin' BIG!

And then the pushing let up, I breathed a quick sigh of relief, he pulled out, then back in and the pushing started anew. So good! I'd never felt anything so tight inside me, how fuckin' good it felt! His cock was sliding against my clit, held tight to it. My body began to spasm, I felt the orgasm hit me like a sudden earthquake, no buildup, it was just there and I screamed, couldn't stop the screaming.

When it subsided after a few moments, Alan had backed off, "I hurt you?" he asked, with real concern in his voice.

I couldn't stop the little giggle, "No, anything but! Fuck me, dammit, fuck me!"

He pushed himself back inside me, and this time met very little resistance until I felt his balls pressing against my pussy lips. He'd also pushed my lower legs up out of the way, over his shoulders. "You're so tight, babygirl"

He groaned, pulled out and thrust back into me, "Ohh, God, like... that time in your ass..." another thrust, driving me wild, "except so much better!"

I couldn't believe the difference... another thrust and Alan's face was grimacing with his obvious pleasure... holding my legs together made!

Another climax was building inside me... every thrust igniting every single nerve ending inside me. And then, despite his coming twice tonight already, I felt the hot cum erupting from his cock. It seemed that every muscle in his body tensed at that moment as my own orgasm engulfed me, for the fifth, sixth, I have no idea how many times. I'd lost track even before we went 'shopping'.

Minutes later, after regaining the ability to breathe, Alan removed the bar, then the hoop from my legs, and I stretched my legs out. I think I might have mentioned it, but I never imagined sex could be like that.

We spent the next who knows how long, re-exploring each other's bodies. I found the scar on his back from his bicycle accident when he was in Junior High, tracing it with my fingers. I'd forgotten about that scar and was excited to discover I could still feel it. He told me how it happened but I don't remember the details, other than he was on his bicycle - well, technically 'off', when it happened.

We kissed, he suckled my breasts and kissed some more. I'm not sure which I enjoyed more, the incredible orgasms or our intimacy afterward.

We talked about our lives, he recounted some of the exciting times of his career and I told him about the births of our two children, my teaching career, and that yes, I was very happily married. The one topic we both studiously avoided was our future.

Thinking of my marriage and my husband made me wonder about that night that had started me on the journey to reuniting with Alan, that weird, weird night. And the question suddenly came to my mind, "Alan, did you have anything strange happen in October? Like just lose a few hours one night?"

He looked at me like I was a crazy woman, like I wasn't making any sense. Then his face changed. If he hadn't been African-American, I'm sure it would have turned completely white.

"How could you know that?"

"I..."

"No one knew, I didn't say anything to anyone. It was a Friday. I was watching Blue Bloods, Tom Selleck. He was talking to his priest. And then... it was the middle of an old movie. The ice in my drink was gone and it was warm, almost four in the morning, an old movie was on TV..."

Twelve-forty-seven, remembering the time stamp on Mom and Dad's security camera. Three hours difference, "Three-forty-seven?" I asked him.

That look again, the incredulity, "Yeah, you knew that... how?"

So I began an explanation of what happened, starting with Robert asking me repeatedly about 'my first time', "Don't stop me until I'm done," I told him. I went on; what Robert had told me about that night, him going to the football game up to walking out of the house at twelve-forty-seven, the jacket, describing our 'first time' in detail, Jen and me losing the same time, and the last piece, the security camera time-stamped at twelve-forty-seven.

All through my narrative, Alan was looking at me like I had gone completely off the loose end, which is exactly how I felt, describing what I knew was impossible.

"So, you're trying to tell me that your husband traveled back in time and watched us that night? He was there? You know that didn't happen, I hope, that it's impossible?"

"I know it is, but how do I explain the jacket? it's real, in our house now. He'd given it away over thirty years ago. Or the fact that he described to me exactly how we made love that night, not just in general terms, but down to the scratches on your back? The security camera that caught him leaving the house at twelve-forty-seven - exactly the time when you said you became aware again. Jen and I both losing the exact same hours? I know it couldn't have happened, Alan, except that it did. He knew about the second picture, that I'd never told him, even forgotten about. There's just no logical explanation for any of it."

He ran his fingers through my hair trying to soothe me, "All I know, baby girl, is that what you're describing couldn't have happened. Maybe it was an elaborate dream, I don't know, but what's impossible is impossible, doesn't happen."

I was getting frustrated, "The jacket hanging in our closet wasn't a dream, Alan. It had shrunk over thirty years ago. He'd given it away. But it's real - with the same acid hole, fitting him perfectly. Jackets don't 'unshrink', Alan. They don't reappear like new, except for one hole, thirty years later."

Robert

I was sick the whole flight home. Bravado. That's what it was that made me sound so damned cock-sure of myself. The stewardess saw the look on my white face and even brought me a barf bag. She didn't even bother asking if I was okay.

Stupid, stupid, stupid! That look on Dani's face when Alan's big cock first impaled her will be imprinted on the very front of my mind for the rest of my life.

I thought back. I could write a fuckin' book on how to fuck up a perfectly good, wonderful marriage: My senseless obsession with Dani's 'first time'; that night that changed everything. How the 'F' did that happen? Those things happen in Rod Serling's mind, not in real life; this trip, the single stupidest thing I've done in my life by a factor of about a thousand, beginning to end.

And my asinine self-assuredness that 'oh, she loves me so she'll come home'. How many happy marriages have been broken up by a lover? What's one more in the scheme of things, I guess. Hell of a lot, that's what!

I thought about what my Dani was doing with her super-stud all day today and tonight and was damned glad for the barf bag in my hand. Next time the stewardess came by, I traded her for another.

That text from her before I boarded, 'I love you', was my only lifeline to at least a little degree of sanity.

So, what even if she did come home? She's not gonna get this guy out of her mind. I know, my mind was jumping from one incoherent, half-thought to another.

Somehow, I managed to catch my connecting flight to Pasco from Seattle. And couldn't find the fuckin' car in the parking lot when we landed. Twenty fuckin' cars and not a single one of them mine! Ten minutes of looking in a fifty-car lot before I realized we'd used Dani's, not mine.

I sat down in it, smelling her perfume, the old perfume, not the new that she bought in Tampa, and turned my phone on and sent Dani a text that I was home, just a reminder that I was still alive. You know, a 'please don't forget me' text.

My mood had improved a little by then. Maybe being in her car, whatever. Then her response, 'thank you so much, love you'.

I sat in her car, staring at those last two words, my lifeline, when another text popped up, a picture of Dani. Damn, in spite of myself, I was hard. Dani, looking like herself from twenty years ago. Except better! God, she was smokin' hot. How a forty-nine-year-old woman could look like that!

That reminded me of Dani's best friend, Jenny. Now THAT was hot! If not for her flaming red hair alone. She was Homecoming Princess, Dani was Queen. Dani had commented several times that it should have been the other way around.

Jenny had been a professional dancer with her own dance studio. She retired from dancing several years ago and now just had the studio, dance lessons, etc. If 'Dancing with the Stars' had been a thing back then, she could easily have been one of the professionals. She still had that fabulous dancer's body and every other part of the package to go along with it, too.

Enough of Jenny, don't even know why I thought about her. The text and picture relieved my mind that at least Dani was still thinking about me. My worry on the flight home had been kind of unnecessary, I thought, I did trust her. She'd be home and my wife tomorrow, just like before. Maybe smitten with her guy, but we'd find a way to deal with that. Besides, it was hot as hell! I tried to imagine what killer sex they'd be having tonight.

It made me shiver with anxiety for her to get home and tell me about it.

Dani

It was the loveliest dream I'd had in a long, long time. Soft lips tugging and nipping at my left nipple. It felt so good that I knew I'd wake up any moment and the wonderful feeling would be gone. My hand wrapped around the head the lips belonged to and I felt the short, stiff hair, pulling it tighter to my naked tit. It was my moan that awoke me, and I realized it wasn't a dream and the head didn't belong to my husband.

It took me a moment to realize where I was and whose head was sucking my tit into its mouth. I just lay there, cooing, enjoying the sensation, feeling like I'd gone to heaven, running my fingers through his coarse hair, letting his hand roam my body.

His lips left my boob and he kissed me, our tongues playing with each other, taking turns nibbling each other's lips, turning more and more sensual by the second. "You know, we never did enough of this before - waking up next to each other," he moved between my legs, his manhood pressing between my pussy lips, "and making love in the morning," as he pressed inside me.

Robert