Lost Time

They dated only briefly in high school. He took her to the Senior Prom. That was when he first kissed her.

She was much shorter than him, her head nestling on his chest, her arms reaching up to his shoulders.

It was a slow dance. He bent his head toward hers. She raised her face and offered her small mouth.

For him it was a moment frozen in time - one of two moments that evening 25 years ago.

Her lips were so soft. Her mouth small and tight, wet and warm. She offered her tongue to him. He sucked it gently then, with a slight moan, she withdrew hers and sucked his into her mouth.

He felt light headed.

Slowly they disengaged. She rested her head against his chest again and hugged him closer to her body.

She felt so wonderful.

After dinner, in his lust, he took her to a park and there plied all his desparate charm on her to makeout with him.

No.

He had been to eager.

She took the "high ground"; refused to compromise her virginity.

Even petting was a no-no.

He was frustrated.

She had such an elegant neck and wonderful mouth.

In the early morning hours when he took her home, she dashed into the house and asked him to wait by the door. She came back several minutes later in only her slip.

She commiserated with his frustration, hugged him to her breast (she was standing on the step above him) and then kissed him on the cheek.

That was the second moment frozen in time.

She allowed him a feel.

Her breasts, though small were high on her chest and nicely firm. The skin of her chest above her slip was so soft, her perfume was so wonderful.

He felt light headed again.

The prom was on a Saturday night. They were supposed to sit together in church on Sunday morning but he begged off: picnic for the football team.

The summer came and they saw very little of each other and exchanged even fewer words. There were none of the wonderful feelings he felt for her though she still had feelings for him.

It was clearly his stupid loss.

He felt there was something wrong with her. She was to "clingy," to eager to please - though not eager enough to give herself to him.

She would have married him had he asked. She would have cooked and cleaned and been the dutiful wife - and as he surmised to late, she would have been the proverbial "whore" in the bedroom.

He left town for college.

She stayed. It was her senior year of high school but she almost immediately found an older man who physically and mentally abused her. They married, against her family's wishes, immediately after she graduated.

She almost immediately got pregnant and had a child.

Then a second child.

Then Family Services took the children away.

He learned she was a mess. Booze, drugs, prostitution.

Her older sister told him that she would be a good wife but she needed a good man, a nice man "to give her purpose."

Maybe that's what spooked him, her co-dependency.

She was with an asshole; a drunk, stupid, beast. Before leaving her alone and homeless, he whored her out to get money for his essentials in life: booze, cigarettes and drugs.

But she stayed with this asshole, till he left her.

That was 20 years ago. He lost touch with her family. He had nearly forgotten about her except for the times that he remembered that prom night.

She spooked him but she also attracted him like a magnet. Like a moth to a flame. There was something about her that he always wanted. What he wasn't quite certain. He knew though, down deep, primally deep, he wanted to possess her.

And he realized she would probably allow herself to be possessed.

It was his stupid loss.

* * * * *

He was entertaining a client at a hotel bar when he thought he spotted her going by the bar toward one of the meeting rooms.

It was only a fleeting glance but he could swear it was her.

His meeting and drinks with the client ended about a half hour later. He left the bar and headed for the conference center of the hotel wondering if he'd really seen her and if he had, then what.

The event board in the lobby announced the 25th high school reunion of her school. It was her. And he felt his desires stir almost with a violence.

But...

At the same time there was a wave of guilt.

A tsunami of guilt.

He blamed himself for having effectively dumped her. And as a result, his guilt told him, she ended up on the skids, abused and alone.

He thought her sister may have blamed him, maybe the whole family blamed him, for her bad life. He could have been "the good man that gave her purpose." And instead he was just a jerk who tried to get lucky on prom night, not looking any farther ahead in time than that night.

He looked at the door to the room where the reunion was being held. They had gone to separate schools, he didn't know anyone milling around the door.

He frowned in disgust with himself and disappointment and went back to the bar.

"You didn't smoke when we were dating." Her voice had deepened slightly with age but it was still delicate, lilting.

He squinted through the cloud of smoke he'd just blown out to look at her. She sat beside him.

"You do remember me, don't you?"

"I've never forgotten."

"You have a funny way of showing it," she said with a hint of rebuke but with a smile.

"I, uh..."

"Really," she laughed quietly, "you don't need to explain. I presume you heard I was pretty messed up after high school. And if you haven't, I was.

"Eloped with some asshole right after graduation. He was 25 and I was almost 18. I wanted to please him so much. I would have done anything for him - and I did for the 36 months we were married. To the point that the cops busted him for pushing drugs and pimping me. I was so filthy and malnourished when they arrested us that social services had the prosecutor drop charges against me and got me into a rehab program.

"A year's worth of rehab, four years worth of college - I'm a nurse now - and still seeing a shrink; 25 years later and I'm pretty good now.

"How about you? Wife, kids?"

He sat and looked at her, perhaps stared. She had some lines in her face from the wear and tear of her life but she was still quite beautiful, still desirous.

"Uh, a wife, for a while. No kids. I'm in commercial real estate and mortgage banking."

She raised her eyebrows, smiled. "Wow."

"Yeah, well, it comes with a price. I've been alone for 10 years now."

"No dating?"

"Occasionally, but you get to my social strata and in my profession - get burned in love, well, you - I - start getting paranoid about relationships.

"Besides, I've lived alone so long now, I'm kinda set in my ways."

She reached for his pack of cigarettes on the bar, "May I?"

"Sure. You didn't smoke when we were dating."

She cast him a side long glance, a wry smile, "I didn't do a lot of things when we were dating. I'm a big girl now.

"I haven't forgotten about you."

"You have a funny way of showing it," he said with a smile.

"Is this deja vu all over again?" She winked at him, arched her neck, caressed it, letting her fingers idly slip to her chest and blew a cloud of smoke into the air.

"You," she poked him in the chest, "were so absolutely horny that night. And I thought I'd make your heart grow fonder by not putting out. I wanted it to be 'special', you know the fantasy. I had no idea that you'd dump me."

"Oh, geez. You know, I have lived with a lot of guilt about that night, that summer. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

She waved her hand. "It's alright, really. But why? Was it my horribly knobby knees or were you just a jerk who didn't want to date if his girl wouldn't put out?"

He felt uncomfortable but nothing ventured, nothing gained. "Well, as a matter of fact, now that you mention it, you did have some pretty scrawny legs. And...you were so 'clingy'..."

She laughed, blew another cloud of smoke. "Ah, my shrink calls it co-dependency and she's been trying to 'cure' me for the last 20 years. And she thinks she has suceeded but...

"I'd still do absolutely anything to please the right person. Absolutely. Become a whore, let someone abuse me. I know, strange, eh? But, I, uh...I want it, I crave it. It's very, uh, sexual."

She put her hand on his. "You still as horny as you were that night?"

"Do you want me after all you been through?"

"In 1977 I thought you were going to be my husband and we'd have three perfect kids and a nice house. Of course you didn't have a clue; I hadn't gotten around to telling you yet. I just had lousy timing and some mental problems to get out of the way.

"I have a room upstairs. Can we pretend it's prom night?"

He was a little stunned. All the feelings he felt that night 25 years ago were back with a vengenance. He'd spent 25 years, off and on, thinking about what he would have done with her had she 'put out.' Now she was offering a second chance. He was a little worried.

"I have some, uh, strong desires. You might call them kinks. I, uh, don't know whether..."

She put her finger to his lips, smiled. "Now don't get freaked, but you have always been my 'right person.' Remember, I said I'd do anything to please the right person. Why don't you give me a try?"

* * * * *

Their foreplay started slowly, it was tentative, tender. He felt unsure of himself.

She didn't want to spook the man she had not forgotten since high school.

When she looked up at him and said, "I want to be your whore and I want you to use me," that broke his dam of restraint.

He heard her say she had condoms in her purse but he wanted her NOW. "Bareback." He wanted to possess her, not merely play with her.

He wanted his sperm in her cunt, her mouth, her ass. He wanted to pull her head back by her hair and bite her neck while he pressed her hard into the mattress, his cock in her cunt.

He took her on her back.

She was still in her slip. She was slightly dry as he entered her but he pressed inward roughly, feeling slickness at the back of her cunt.

He pulled the spaghetti straps of her slip off her shoulders and yanked the top of her slip down exposing her bra.

The bra was like the last barrier to the promised land.

He felt crazy with lust.

He didn't try to unfasten the bra - the barrier - or pull it down, instead he pushed it up over her breasts and fiercely groped them, pulling the nipples hard.

She was moaning and then softly cried out as his violence increased. And she laid passively mostly, letting her body move as he moved it purposely or just reacting to his thrusting body mass.

His fingers were in her mouth, pressing down on her tongue. She sucked at them as hard as she could. She felt some drool from around his fingers run onto her chin and down her neck.

He gripped her chin with his thumb, his fingers still possessing, fucking her mouth and roughly tilted her head back, arching her neck, exposing it.

His fingers felt like they were probing for her gag reflex.

He fell on her body and started kissing, licking, biting - all the while maintaining thrusts into her cunt.

Physically he was much bigger than her. He completely covered her body with his. His weight pressing on her and his cock in her sex felt so divine.

As his oral assault on her neck increased he held her with one hand under her jaw line, pressing on her arteries.

She knew what he was doing. Time stood still for a fraction of a second and she smiled to herself. She wondered what he would do when she lapsed into unconsciousness.

Would he take her mouth? Her ass? Would he hit her?

It was if she were out of her body. She heard herself gurgling, her breathing raspy and ragged. Involuntarily she started to struggle against him for air, for blood to her brain. She heard herself pleading in single words and with whimpers and whispers for him to stop.

But she didn't want him to stop.

She felt her orgasm build rapidly and then peak, as if in slow motion, as her consciousness started to ebb. Dear Sweet Jesus, she loved this feeling.

It had been so long.

Lost time.

He was the right person she thought to herself before there was nothing but feeling and twilight consciousness.

* * * * *

She awoke to the sound of a ringing cell phone. It was hers. For a moment she didn't know where she was or what had happened.

Her jaw, breasts, cunt and ass hurt. There was the very bitter taste of sperm mingled with the metallic taste of blood in her mouth.

She was naked under the sheet and she felt wetness around her hips and under her ass.

She looked over and saw him lying there.

It hadn't been a dream.

She answered the phone.

He stirred as she spoke on the phone. She hung up and snuggled to him. He put his arm around her shoulder, stroked her face and hair with his thumb. She patted his belly; stroked his semi-flacid, sticky cock.

"You ok? I, uh, got a little out of control." he asked, kissing her lightly on the top of her head.

"Mmmmmmmm, just fine. Except...you need to change your diet if you're going to make a habit of cumming in my mouth. You are so bitter. And is that your blood or mine I'm tasting?"

"Uh, both...I think. You bit me over my collar bone hard enough to draw blood and then I turned you over and raped your ass. After I was done in there I made you clean me with your mouth and since there was no lube and you were...well, that's about all I remember.

"So, uh, you're saying you would let me cum in your mouth regularly?"

"As often as you want. If you want, that is. I've been alone a lot longer than you."

"We'll have to talk some but I don't think I'll be repeating my mistake 25 years ago."

"Hmmm, that's good."