One Glorious Day

The phone was still ringing – God only knows for how long – when she eventually got up off me and walked lazily over to the phone on the desk by the door, wiping herself off with the inside of her apron and staggering a little, like she'd had a little too much to drink – which I suppose she had. She picked up the phone and said, "D.B.'s," and then paused, listening. She said into the phone, "Yeah, everything's fine." She listened some more and then said, "Okay, I'll see you later. Bye." She looked over at me and said, "That was just the boss checking in."

I had gotten up off of the sofa and was pulling my pants back on. She said, "Well now, that'll be twenty dollars even," and then she just looked at me, waiting.

I stared at her in disbelief and said after a moment's pause, "You're kidding. You're actually going to charge me??"

She just kept looking at me with her brow slightly furrowed, like she didn't quite understand something, then her face brightened and she said, "No, not for the lay, silly. That was on the house – because I like you." She walked over to me, grabbed my head in both hands and kissed me long and very tenderly before saying, "But you still owe me for the food and beer, sweetie."

Oh ... okay. So I paid the bill, gave her a twenty-dollar tip, and went home one very satisfied customer.

* * *

She kept looking at herself in the large mirror on the wall at the head of the bed, where the headboard would normally be.

We were in her bedroom on her king-size bed, a nice one with red satin sheets on it, and we'd been in here screwing like mad for what seemed like a few hours now. It was a somewhat small room and the bed took up most of the space in it: a nice little sex-playground, dark, with no other lighting besides the several small candles burning in sconces along the walls. She was on top of me, slowly grinding up and down on my dick, and she was just gazing at herself in the mirror intently, as though she really liked the show that was being presented there.

And she certainly knew how to put on a show.

She was cupping her breasts and rubbing the nipples with her thumbs and forefingers, staring rapt into the mirrors, entranced. The large mirror at the head of the bed was actually a set of four framed full-length mirrors, about a foot or so in width, set on the wall a few inches apart, creating the illusion of a window of sorts, through which we could watch some other couple having sex in the next room – who also happened to be watching us.

We were old friends from childhood, all the way through high school, but we had eventually lost touch and hadn't seen each other for many years. So it came as a complete surprise when I happened to run into her earlier in the day, around five o'clock or so, at the gym. She said she'd been going to that gym for years, which was strange because I'd been going there for years as well, but we had never run across each other until today. I didn't even know she was living in the same city as I was. I guess life can just be funny that way.

Her hair was a reddish color, about shoulder length with blonde highlights in it, and her somewhat pale complexion almost seemed to glow in the candlelight. She was a cute little thing with a beautiful smile, slender yet slightly muscular – her time at the gym having apparently paid off – and her breasts, while not large, were nice and firm and fit snugly in my hands; I just loved to squeeze them softly, feeling the hard nipples poking into my palms.

She had agreed very enthusiastically earlier at the gym when I asked her out to dinner, so I had gone home, showered, and taken a short nap before heading out to pick her up at her apartment a few hours later. Twilight was just starting to get settled in when we left her place in my car and headed for the restaurant, about a half-hour drive or so.

We were on the interstate heading downtown, roughly ten minutes into the ride – neither one of us talking much along the way – when she turned to me suddenly and said, "I wonder ... do you still taste the same?" I looked over at her, not quite understanding what she meant, when she said, "There's something I've always wanted to try ..." Then she reached over and quickly unzipped my pants, fished my rapidly stiffening cock out from my underwear, and began sucking me off – quite lustily I might add, like she had been starving for some stiff dick for too long a time now and was finally willing to indulge herself completely.

The entire way to the restaurant – cars passing us frequently, thankfully no one paying any attention to anything we were doing – she sucked on my dick quite vigorously. Once we were in the restaurant parking lot, I quickly pulled into the nearest empty space, and, reaching carefully under her waist to grab the transmission lever between the seats, I put the car into park ... just as I blew my load right into the back of her mouth and straight down her throat, crying out hoarsely, "Oh ... God." She sucked it all down excitedly, and when she was done, she raised her head up to me and smiled, saying, "Mmmm, thanks." But just then something outside must have caught her attention because she glanced out the driver's side window and suddenly froze; her eyes wide and her mouth hanging slightly open and slowly forming into a small smile, her lips and chin still glistening with a fresh coat of my come.

She chuckled quietly as she said, "You gotta be kidding me."

I turned my head slowly to the left, panting steadily, and that's when I noticed the elderly couple in the car next to ours, just staring over at us: the woman in the passenger's seat looking almost indignant – glaring at us like we had just personally insulted her or something – while the man in the driver's seat, presumably her husband, just smiled and gave me a knowing nod. Then he quickly backed the car out of the parking space, tires squealing, and drove off into the night.

We both had a good laugh about it, as she wiped off her mouth with some tissues that were stuffed in the glove box; then we got out of the car and went inside. We asked the waitress to seat us in a more secluded and intimate area of the restaurant – somewhere dark – and she complied readily. We ordered drinks first, then our food, and then ... we just talked.

We talked while we ate, about growing up, about being neighbors and playing together almost every day after school. We talked about the first time we kissed, of course; the first time we felt each other up, pawing at each other like we were the first explorers of some as-yet undiscovered country. Hot for each other as soon as puberty set in, but at the same time remaining the exceptionally close friends we always had been, sharing our respective hopes and fears, as friends do. We talked about going steady in high school, the first time she gave me a blow job: under the bleachers, in her cheerleader's uniform right before her practice; and the times we would cut class for a quickie in the backseat of my car or in an empty classroom somewhere.

Loving each other without saying it, until the night she had to move away – quite suddenly – our junior year, right before prom, her father starting a new job out of state somewhere, and now she had to go. As a matter of fact, I almost did tell her I loved her then, the night she told me she was leaving. We made love that night, and it was right on the tip of my tongue to tell her, but it never came out, and afterwards I was glad I hadn't told her. We had written to each other quite often at first (this was before the advent of the internet) – but then, predictably, our letters became increasingly infrequent, and then subtly nonexistent. We had inadvertently moved on.

But now – right now, it was really good seeing her again. Damn good. She was still riding slowly up and down on top of me, her eyes closed now, and I reached up and softly grabbed her around the waist, flipping her over onto her back. I hastily pushed my cock back into her tight pussy again and began pumping her steadily and firmly – quick, forceful thrusts – leaning down to kiss her long and slow. Then I pushed myself up and just gazed into the mirror as she closed her eyes and smiled, the two of us thrusting and fucking ... going back to dinner earlier, remembering ...

After we had finished eating, but before paying the check, I was suddenly struck by an interesting and quite exciting idea, so I said to her, "If anyone asks, I'm in the bathroom," and looking around quickly to make sure the coast was clear, I ducked under the table, the long tablecloth hiding me nicely, and reached up under her dress to yank her panties off and slide my tongue deep into her awaiting pussy.

She had seemed a little startled at first, beginning to say, "Why would anyone ask ..." then going, "Ohh ..." when I dove right into her warm, wet pussy with my lips and tongue in full flight. And then she really started to get into it, pushing her pelvis into my mouth eagerly and cradling my head gently in her hands. I don't know how long I was down there, but just when I felt like she was right on the cusp of climax, I felt her body stiffen and I heard the waitress's voice say, "How is everything?"

She stopped the motion of my head and held it still in her hands, as I heard her calmly say to the waitress, "Oh, believe me ... right now, everything is just fine." The waitress said, "Are you ready for some dessert now, or do you just want me to bring the check?"

She hesitated before saying, "Yes, dessert sounds good – I think we'll each have a slice of ... cherry pie. Oh, and the check too please. Thanks." I heard the waitress say, "Okay" and then presumably move off to get our dessert, because she gently smacked the back of my head a few times and said quietly, "Okay, go ahead ... but hurry."

So I went back to work on her and shortly after that she came, all over my mouth, practically saturating my tongue with her sweet, nectar-like fluids. All I heard from her was a quiet "Ohh ..." and then I felt her body slowly relax. I kept on stroking her pussy with my tongue for a little bit, eliciting a few quivers from her vulva, then I pulled away and grabbed my napkin from the seat next to me, mopping my mouth off with it. After a moment, she smacked me again, this time on the cheek, and said, "Okay, it's safe to come up now."

But just as I was getting up from under the table, the waitress came around the corner with our pies in hand, looked right at me – still crouched halfway under the table, wiping my mouth clean with a napkin, and my date sitting there, looking sweaty and disoriented – and stopped short. After a pause, looking from one of us to the other, she composed herself and carefully set the plates and the check down on the table, saying, "I'll take this whenever you're ready," and she walked away, grinning broadly at us with apparent understanding and tacit approval.

And again we had a good laugh about it. After dinner, I drove her back to her apartment, where she asked me if I'd like to come inside. Well ... of course I would. So we went inside and straight into her bedroom, where we immediately stripped and jumped into her bed, right into each other's arms and started fucking like animals, hot for each other once again after all these years. And here we were, still at it so many hours later; surprisingly not even close to being tired yet, both of us still seemingly full of spunk and with plenty of energy to burn off.

She rolled over suddenly, on all fours and turned her head around to look at me. She didn't say anything and neither did I. I just stuck my cock right back into her and started fucking her from behind, roughly. We were both looking at each other and ourselves in the mirror, facing it now, as she sat up and brought her hands up behind her and grasped my head, her fingers sifting through my hair, my hands running from her hips up along her ribs to her breasts, across those hard, pencil eraser-like nipples – the whole time thrusting my dick into her fiercely – then back down across her smooth stomach and even further, down along her thighs to rub the tip of her wonderfully wet pussy with my forefingers. And I just kept stabbing my hefty cock harder and harder into her, my dick sliding smoothly in and out of her; but she was insanely tight, so tight it was getting increasingly harder to hold off the inevitable orgasm and then without warning – POP! – I just completely let loose, the come flooding, just bursting right out of my cock; so hard, in fact, that for a tiny moment there I was actually afraid the condom was going to break.

I cried out, "Uhhh!" in an almost embarrassingly pleading way.

Her eyes seemed to roll back into her head and she closed them partway, her mouth hanging open just a little, letting out a long, soft moan. She smiled as my thrusts began to slow down and I could feel her pussy squeezing hard against my dick with each push. I turned her head toward me, both of us panting heavily – my dick still moving in and out of her – and kissed her on the mouth, then along her neck and shoulder, my hands caressing her body softly and pulling her to me, tight, as I said to her, "God I love you. You know ... I think," still panting and thrusting slowly, "I think I've always loved you."

She looked at me in the mirror and I looked at her, both of us smiling, satiated and satisfied, our genitals still massaging each other tenderly. She sighed and said, "Yeah? Well, do you know how long I've waited to hear you say it?" She paused then slightly, our eyes locked onto the same spot in the mirror – into each other's eyes – before saying, "I love you too. I always have."

She smiled at me and we kissed once more and then, after a brief rest and some more catching up, we made intense love again. Afterwards, I told her that I had to go; reluctantly, of course, still groping at each other and kissing lustily, until I finally managed to pull myself away and she said, well, okay, just call me tomorrow. I said I would and as I was leaving, I paused in the bedroom doorway and looked back over at her, just lying there, already asleep, her breathing falling into that deep, steady rhythm of pure unconsciousness, when I knew – I just knew: she was the one. She was the one for me. She was the one that almost got away, but now she was back in my life and it would be different this time – we would live happily ever after.

I blew her a kiss goodnight and left. And I didn't know it at the time, of course – couldn't know it – but within a year, she became my wife.

* * *

She turned to me and said, "You know ... we could join them." And then after a small pause she said, "If you want to, that is."

I looked over at her, sitting on the other side of the couch from me, and then slowly followed her nod and subsequent gaze past me into the bedroom, to the two of them – the blonde and the brunette, her roommates – writhing around on the bed together, bare-ass naked, groping and kissing each other all over, one wet from the shower, the other still a little wet from the pool, both of them working around now to suck on the other's wet pussy, mashing pelvis into face, and moaning quietly but excitedly.

"They include me on occasion, and I know they're both hot for you, so ... what do you say?" She looked over at me expectantly.

What to do. I had just gotten back from my new girlfriend's place, around 2 AM or so, and was heading up the stairs to my door, when I saw her standing in her apartment doorway, right across from mine, and she said, "Hey stranger, care to get reacquainted?"

She had obviously been drinking ... but then so had I. She was younger than me, in her early thirties, and I had to say, she looked damn good – just standing there in her flimsy tank-top with no bra on, nipples poking noticeably into the fabric, her short shorts riding up into her tight crotch; smiling that charming and disarming smile of hers, her beautiful face framed by her long, fiery red hair – I was hooked. So I said, sure, and followed her inside.

Red (as I liked to call her) had gotten us each a wine cooler, saying sorry, I'm out of beer, and then we had sat down on the couch, drinking our drinks, her continuously radiant smile and the excited gleam in her eyes suggesting that she was horny as hell and out on the prowl. Perhaps she could even smell the musk of sex that still clung to me from my date earlier in the evening.

Red and I had dated for a while, right after I had first moved into the building about a year ago, but she quickly became disillusioned by my incapacity at the time to commit to a long-term relationship, so we had split up and she ended up getting engaged to some other guy.

And I just slept around a lot.

Through the bedroom doorway, on the bed, I could see the two of them – the blonde and the brunette – had shifted to a new position: the brunette was on all fours and had her head between the blonde's legs, moving it around furiously between them, her fingers reaching beneath her torso to stroke her own pussy, her beautiful tight ass pointing straight at me, right in my line of sight; and the blonde was sitting upright against the headboard, with her eyes closed and a serious, concentrated expression resting solemnly on her face, her hands pressed firmly against the brunette's gyrating head. Then, as if sensing that I was watching them – or rather, her – the blonde slowly opened her eyes and smiled right at me; I smiled back. She closed them again and leaned her head back, still smiling and seemingly reveling in her glorious circumstance.

Earlier, on the couch, Red had started telling me about how she had just broken up with so-and-so and was feeling a little bit down about it, when the blonde, wearing a tight, little two-piece bathing suit that left virtually nothing to the imagination and was still soaking wet from the pool, had come in through the front door, yelling, "I'm home." When she saw me, she squealed with excitement and rushed over eagerly, smiling and saying, "Well hi!" pulling me off the couch and squeezing me tight – pressing her firm, bounteous breasts into my chest and getting my shirt soaked in the process – and dropping her hand down to grab my ass and give it a soft squeeze before she sat down between us on the couch and started going on about how those building security assholes had just thrown her and her friends out of the fucking pool because it was after hours – can you believe that shit?

I had met Blondie (as I liked to call her) while I was dating Red, about a year ago, when they had only been roommates for about a month or so. Blondie was in her early twenties and was a dedicated party girl at heart. She was very friendly and outgoing, but she had a tendency to rub Red the wrong way, particularly where I was concerned. She liked to grab at my crotch playfully whenever we were in the pool together – or just about anywhere else, for that matter – hugging and rubbing up against me all the time, practically falling out of her bathing suit, making Red jealous but defending her actions, saying: it doesn't mean anything, we're just playing around, having some fun. Chill out.

How they could remain roommates I'll never know.

Red and I kept watching the two of them on the bed, thrashing around and moaning loudly now as though they were the only beings in existence. She slowly slid over closer to me on the couch, putting her hand on my thigh, and said, "Or, we could go into my room ... and be alone for a while." And again, after a pause, she added, "If you want to, that is."

I looked over at her momentarily – but my gaze slowly drifted back, drawn to the bedroom doorway, watching the spectacle unfolding there, watching the brunette in particular ...

They had shifted their positions again and Blondie had her head between the brunette's legs now. The brunette was lying on her back, her head hanging down over the edge of the bed. She had her eyes closed and was kneading her breasts slowly. She opened her eyes, stared straight at me, and smiled. I smiled back and she closed her eyes again, her face radiating pure joy and contentment.