Julie's Memoires: Thomas 1976+

My life-long Affair

I met him at a cocktail party. He was charming. Almost Handsome. Attractive to me. We were introduced by the hostess, Susan, "Thomas, this is Julie, my bestest friend. Thomas is a friend of Jason's Father." (Jason is still her husband. He has never indicated he knows about Susan and me.)

"Hello Julie. Nice to finally meet you. Steven has spoken well of you."

"Thank you. He is one of my favorite people."

"He told me you have been a working at Birch North for three years. Still enjoying it?"

We talked for about forty-five minutes, with me filling the time, spewing about whatever he asked. He was comfortable for me.

After what seemed a lifetime, we were interrupted. Before we were separated, He handed me his card, "Let's have lunch. Please call." Only his name and number were on the card.

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I thought about this occasionally for the next few days. But work, and family, demanded most of my conscious time. Time for lunch with an acquaintance? Get real! When I did recall the conversation, I remembered how comfortable I was.

A couple of weeks later Jim told me Steven would be hosting an evening party to celebrate the 'Other Christmas,' June twenty-five, three days after the summer solstice. I thought of Thomas. No doubt, he would attend. Would I talk with him again? Would he be as I remembered?

During the next four weeks, I became increasingly distracted with thoughts of Thomas. What was I thinking about? Sex with a man nearly twice my age! That's what I was thinking about!

For the first three years of my marriage to Jim I did not think about sex with others. In the past year I had had two very nice encounters with strangers. Yet this seemed different, somehow almost wrong, and profoundly erotic. All my sexual playmates had been close to my age. Playing with a man twenty-five years older than me! I was confused. I was becoming possessed. And I had a feeling this may not just be a temporary distraction. The two days before the party I had to take sick days I was so distracted and horny.

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Party night was warm, with a slight breeze. Enough to keep the few mosquitos away. Not strong enough that I yearned for a wrap. But, because I have some beautiful shawls crocheted by my grandmother, I almost always wear one. More than two hundred people were wandering about the house, pool, gardens, and tennis court.

For the first hour, Jim and I meandered about the house, talking to friends and work colleagues, while sampling food bites from a dozen buffets. I was heading toward one of the tended bars, questing for another white wine, and there he was. A refrained smile appeared on his face as he saw me approach. The look I wanted to find.

Again, we spent at least forty-five minutes talking as we strolled the gardens. And again, we had to be interrupted to be told it was time for me to go. And again he said, "Let's have lunch. Call me."

I had no problem with occasional sex. However, this seemed different. I enjoyed his company a bit too much. What had happened to me?

#

Lunch was the next week. A small sidewalk table. Mid-afternoon. Salad at two paces. Warm bread. Dry wine. After, He asked me to his home for coffee and dessert. We walked the four blocks, buying dessert and coffee, on the way.

His home was a fifth floor walk-up with an awesome view. He served the coffee in excellently unique mugs, and the cakes on a beautiful plate. We sat on a sofa looking at the city, and sipped great coffee, and tasted the best sweets I had ever had.

"May I hug you?"

"Please."

Our arms embraced us. I was completely certain this was exactly what I was to do at that moment. He held me tight for minutes. A gentle squeeze. Relaxing. Comfortable. Close. Erotic. Slow release. We started to part. We kissed. Soft. Slow. Caring. I was in the moment.

We kissed and hugged for what seemed like hours, and seconds. He then led me to a bedroom. "Please take off your pants and lie in the middle of the bed."

I did.

He took off his pants and knelt on the bed. "Lie on your side, facing me. Now hold up your head." He lay in the opposite direction placing his left leg above my shoulders with his knee under my head. "Rest your head." I lay my head on his leg. His erect penis was about four inches before my eyes.

"Part your legs." He laid his head on my thigh close to my puss. His breath warm, soothing, comfortable, exciting.

He moved his body down a bit and started to lick my lips. Flat tongue, long strokes from top to bottom. And again. And again. And again. Then much slower. Unbelievable!

His right hand stroking and squeezing my cheeks. His tongue licking my puss lips. How could this be wrong?

I opened my eyes to see his penis. He had not pushed it into in my mouth. He was waiting for me to do whatever I wanted. I moved my head until I got his cock head in my mouth and started sucking. And sucking. I only wanted to do this. To think only about doing this. This is what I was not going to stop doing. He still did not move. But now I had his cock in my mouth.

His tongue pushed between my lips, licked tip of my clit, and across my puss hole. He continued to move his tongue just an inch up and down, again, and again. Rimming my puss hole.

I am sure I did not breathe for at least ten minutes. His face was pressed between my lips. His tongue pushing in my pussy hole as far as it could go. In and out. Again. Again. The warm breath from his nose blowing between my cheeks. I was sucking. My right hand was now stroking his cock while I sucked on its head.

He rolled us so I was on my back with him over me. His cock still in my mouth. It was a wonderfully smooth and slow move. He was on his elbows and knees. My legs fell wide, spreading my lips completely. He moved his head away from me. I felt the interesting sense of coolness.

He licked my open slit. Slowly, all the way to the bottom. Starting again, he stopped at my clit. With his tongue wide, he pushed, and rolled, left and right. Excellent technique! A tongue from heaven!

The head of his cock still in my mouth. He pulled out slowly, almost completely. Then he pushed so just the head was inside my mouth. Holding it there while his tongue again started at the top of my slit and licked to my hole and pushed in as far as his tongue could go. His hands moving underneath my cheeks to change the angle of my puss. His fingers pulled my puss lips wide. He pushed his face against me with his tongue going deep.

I raised my head and got as much of his cock in my mouth as I could. And sucked. I put my hands on his ass trying to pull more of his cock into my mouth. He slowly lowered his hips so my head was resting on the bed. Held for a minute. Slowly withdrew. Then pushed until he was just in as far as he had been before. He did not try to push beyond what I had done. This was amazingly erotic. He pulled out. I looked to see the bottom of his penis. His ball sack tight. His slightly hairy butt crack. Then he pushed his cock toward and into my waiting mouth. I was in heaven!

He started sucking hard on my clit. His hands moving to pull up on my butt. Gripping. Squeezing. Holding me tight. And sucking. Pushing his face into my puss. Moving his cock in and out of my mouth.

Just as I began my rise, he started. When his second squirt hit my tongue, I was at the top. A long, long moment of total happiness. My whole body suspended. Between everything. Then a hard pulse. Another, another, another.

He did not stop sucking my clit. He did not stop pushing his face between my lips. He did not stop sucking. He did not stop squeezing my ass. I did not stop cumming for what seemed like hours.

I sucked until his cock had no more juice to taste.

He slowly released his hold on my clit as he relaxed his grip on my ass, pushed himself higher on his elbows, pulling his cock from my mouth. He rolled to my left, onto his back, breathing deeply. "Thank you."

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We had lunch sporadically for the next twenty-five years. After the intense first year, it averaged at least once every three months. It was a great period of time. I would go to his apartment. We would get naked. And after, have a wonderful lunch. Then suck and fuck each other again.

During my third single period, from forty-eight to fifty-two years of age, we saw each other just about every week. My job kept me mostly in town. I was not too horny. It was comforting to know I could have my needs satisfied without having to seek-out casual encounters with strangers, and most of my previous lovers. I wanted some time to rest.

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The last time was a few days before he died. He was in the hospital. Many parts of his body were wanting to sleep. Yet he was alert and as funny as usual.

Mostly when I visited, there were other friends there. One afternoon after lunch, we were alone. To comfort him, I put my hand under the covers and inside his gown to hold his penis. I squeezed and stroked and he started getting hard. I was surprised. I thought the drugs would prevent it. In the last few years when we had had sex it did take a little longer to get him hard, and to orgasm. I did not mind. This time he got hard quickly. Real hard.

I kept stroking and squeezing. Soon I felt him oozing. I stood and moved the blanket a bit to expose him. I turned so his hand could get under my skirt. I had not worn panties just in case this happened.

I bent over, taking him into my mouth. I was getting wet. We could be discovered at any moment. He stroked my butt and legs and then moved his hand under my skirt to my puss. OH YEAH!

I spread my legs so he could rub my clit and poke his fingers in me. I was sucking real good and slow and long and deep. His fingers were moving in and out of me.

Again a surprise, it did not take long for him to start squirting. And as usual, him cumming in my mouth triggered my orgasm. He had me well trained.

I replaced the blanket. Used a tissue to wipe my mouth, and sat.

I felt my tears.

We talked and laughed for the rest of the afternoon.

I miss him dearly.

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Occasionally, it is Great to be a woman.

Julie's Memoires are stories depicting the sexual experiences of a woman born in 1947, raised by intelligent, educated adults, and coming of age during the 60's.

Copyright ©2015 Julie Johnson, All Rights Reserved