Rediscovering Rebecca

I kissed her with all that my soul, at its highest purpose, could command -- slowly, deeply, in a way that let her know that she is the only thing in my universe. That I love her.

When our kiss broke, she smiled.

"You said it yourself: the kiss speaks the truth. You know what I was saying with that kiss, don't you."

She nodded. "I do."

"But just to restate the obvious, I love you, Becky. I love you, I love you, I love you, and I never want you to doubt that."

We kissed again, oblivious to our surroundings, including the server who quietly left the check on the corner of our table without disturbing us.

I peeled off two twenties and a ten to cover the $42 tab and left it on the table.

"Let's go home," Becky said in a husky voice, "... together."

► HOME.

Becky had already pulled into her detached garage and was lowering its door by the time I parked on the curb in front of her house and walked down the driveway to where she was standing.

"Should we crank up the fire pit again?" I asked.

"Don't think so," she said. "Follow me."

We climbed the side steps to her deck and she keyed in the pass code to her home security system, opened the French doors and we walked I followed her into the kitchen.

"There are a few Yuenglings in the fridge that Doug and Mark didn't finish yesterday if you like, and...," she said, then turned toward me to point out something else when I put my hands on her waist, stopping her midsentence.

"You are... beautiful. You are... perfect," I told her. "And I love you."

As I pulled her toward me, she wrapped her arms around my neck, pulling our mouths together. Again, the kiss was electric -- unhurried and languid, but simmering in its intensity.

Since that afternoon on the Blue Ridge Mountain overlook, kissing Becky has been like an exquisitely performed ballet: intuitively, our lips, our tongues interact in perfect choreography, probing, teasing, inviting. This one lasted, it seemed, for more than a minute without the slightest break. And when it finally ended and she leaned her forehead against the hollow of my neck, we momentarily lacked words. My fingers gently brushed through her silvery hair and ran down her back to the swell of her bottom beneath the white, mid-thigh golf skirt she wore over a white, long-sleeved bodysuit and a yellow sweater vest.

"Make love to me, Rick," she whispered.

I kissed her again and as we kissed, I felt her press her waist into mine. My hand went beneath her skirt to caress the fullness of her buttocks and trace the crease between its two globes beneath her bodysuit. She did likewise, allowing one of her hands to squeeze my ass before trailing it around to feel the growing hardness in my red, knit golf pants. She moaned into my mouth as she traced its dimensions.

"Let's go," she rasped.

We ascended the stairs to her bedroom suite.

My yellow polo shirt hit the floor first, and that was at the top of the stairs in the hallway leading to the bedroom. Next I unzipped her skirt and she discarded it midway down the hallway beside her sweater vest, leaving her only in her bodysuit except the slip-on sneakers she put on in place of her golf shoes after our match.

Once inside the bedroom, she closed the door, pinned me against it to kiss me as we surrendered fully to lust. She hooked her right leg behind my left leg to increase the friction her covered vulva could generate against my still-clothed thigh.

With a sense of urgency, her hand ranged over the zipper of my pants, stroking the raging boner underneath. She began to fumble with the snaps to the elastic waistband of my golf pants as my hands found her breasts and the firm nipples trapped beneath the stretchy Gore-Tex fabric of her bodysuit, causing her to moan into my mouth.

We momentarily broke our kiss.

"OK, no more stand-up makeouts," I groaned to her as I swept her up in my arms and walked her over to the bed and laid her gently on it. I kicked off my Docksider deck shoes and undid the snaps and zipper of my golf pants before she pushed my hands out of the way and peeled them down, allowing me to step out of them. She sat on the edge of the bed with her hands still grasping my hips.

Finally, Becky tugged my boxer briefs down to my knees as my swollen penis bobbed free of its constraints. She ran her fingers down its shaft, almost reverently, seemingly marveling at it as she viewed it for the first time, then scooped a bead of clear fluid from its tip with her index finger. She grasped its shaft and tugged slowly several times before swirling her tongue around its head.

I ran my fingers along her cheek, and she released my throbbing hardness as she looked upward at me as I bent to kiss her again. As I did, she put her arms around my neck and lay backward, pulling me down onto the bed with her. I left my underwear on the floor as we scooted more fully onto the bed. When that was done, I kissed my way down her body -- the delicate hollow of her throat, the slightly freckled slope of her chest and the nipples, now hard and raging against their stretch-knit restraints, the dip in the material over her navel, the leg holes of the bodysuit, and finally the hook-and-eye snaps directly over her moist pussy, rich with the clean, musky scent of her arousal. The contact there caused her pelvis to leap as if from an electrical shock.

My fingers grasped the top flap of her crotch closure and pulled it gently downward until I could feel the hooks pull free from the enclosures on the bottom flap. Now, Becky was whimpering, her hips beginning to undulate against the pressure of my fingers trying to free her pussy from the garment. When the last of the three closures was unclasped, I opened it up and got my first, long awaited glimpse of Becky's naked, wet passionflower topped by a neat, wispy pubic patch, largely the same brunette shade as her hair once was with some gray strands intermingled.

"You are precious and perfect beyond words, Becky," I said as my tongue dipped into her folds for my first intimate contact with her.

"Oh... oh... Rick," she moaned as she threaded my hair through her fingers and pressed my face against her slit.

I explored her slowly, savoring every sensual centimeter, slowly running the tip of my tongue between her pink inner folds and he smooth outer labia, up one side of her pussy to her clitoris at its hooded apex, and then down the other, all the while inhaling her womanly bouquet. As control began slipping from Becky, I plowed my tongue between her glistening inner lips until I found her opening, and inserted it as deeply as I could, finding it almost drooling. With that, Becky reflexively pushed herself harder into my mouth as her breathing quickened.

Moments later, I felt her hands pulling my face away, even as her hips twisted and squirmed in lustful abandon. She pulled my face to hers and kissed me, for the first time tasting her arousal on my lips and tongue as she took my straining erection in her hand.

"Lie back, Rick," she said.

In a single motion, I rolled onto my back and Becky rolled on top of me, positioning one knee on either side of my chest. She peeled away her unsnapped bodysuit and slung it off the bed, now gloriously naked and more beautiful than even my imagination could conceive. She pressed her chest against mine, her nipples now warm against my bare chest. Then, with my erection pressed between us, Becky positioned her wet folds against its underside and began slowly drawing it back and forth over its length.

With Foghorn now coated with her arousal, she paused and positioned me at her entrance. We stared into each other's eyes as she fed my cock slowly, inch-by-inch into her depths until we were, at last, fully coupled.

Becky and I paused in awe of the moment. Her hands caressed my face. She smiled at me, a look of peace glowing from her.

"Dear Lord, Beck, I know now. This is what was meant to be, not just for the past 4,000 days but always. I have never felt this complete... ever, my beautiful girl." I kissed her again. "Home is not a place. Home, for me, is you."

She said nothing. Her hips remained still for a time as she savored the moment, continuing her exploration of my face with her fingers, tenderly tracing its creases and contours, its skin and its two-day razor stubble as though for the first time, recording it all in her memory, documenting as much as she could of this turning point for both of us.

At last her attention and her gaze returned to my eyes.

"Rick...," she said. "Even before I met you, I hoped that I would find that missing part of me. I have that now, my love."

With that, we kissed again -- loving and lewd, warm and wanton -- as her hips began drawing me in and out of her and grinding her mound against my pubic bone as nature and passion do what they do with a man and a woman.

She sat almost upright, now riding me without reservation, her eyelids heavy with lust and a look of abandon on her face, guiding my hands to her bouncing breasts, just as I recalled from the moments in the drive-in theater 11 years earlier just before her climax tore through her.

I sat up and took a nipple in my mouth while my hand kneaded and caressed the other as her hips increased their force and tempo, and she moaned in pleasure. I tried to divert my mind from the overpowering sensation her wet, tight womanhood exerted, driving me toward my crescendo, I feared, before Becky to lose herself in her orgasm. I bit down on the inside lining of my mouth, hoping to short-circuit the pleasure signals flooding my brain from my straining cock straining and luxuriating inside Becky's sweet pussy as her frantic movements drove us both toward our peak.

"Cumming... I'm cumming, Rick... hold me," she said, pressing herself hard against me and consuming my mouth with hers. I wrapped her tightly in my arms and pressed her to my bare, perspiring chest as I felt her hips clench and shudder for the first time. She cried out in ecstasy as the muscles of her lower abdomen began clutching around her vagina, creating what felt like a milking motion on my penis deep inside her and triggering my own release.

"Me too, baby...," I bellowed.

Her breathing momentarily took on a hissing quality as she inhaled and exhaled through her teeth, clenched in the throes of her orgasm. "Yes... fill my pussy, Rick."

I felt myself swell within her and, for the second time in less than 24 hours, semen streamed out of me, only now it wasn't a dream, it was a dream come true. Becky hungrily kissed me again as her pussy drove itself onto me, pushing every available centimeter of my spurting manhood as far within her as possible. I groaned in passion, even with our open mouths locked together.

With my seed finally pooled inside Becky, our kiss broke and my burning abdominal muscled finally surrendered to fatigue and I collapsed backward onto her bed, my eyes focused on the beautiful woman now gathering her wits after the last tremors of her orgasm shook her. All that mattered in my world was whatever made her smile contentedly at me at this moment of sublime joy and contentment.

Neither of us spoke a word. We giggled. We kissed. We touched and snuggled and caressed. We kissed some more. We lost ourselves in each other's gaze. We savored every sensation, every sound, every sight, including the point where we still remained intimately linked -- neither of us wanting to end a pairing so loving, so profound, so overdue.

And that's how it was as sleep overtook us on this first night of the rest of our lives together.

▼▼▼

Once more the smell of Becky making coffee awoke me.

She had already risen, showered, retrieved her copy of the Wall Street Journal from her driveway and made coffee for two, again remembering my partiality to dark roast. I was briefly disoriented waking up in her bed and her bedroom until I saw her bringing a fresh mug to me, her face radiant, her freshly shampooed hair still damp and cascading in silver rivulets onto the collar of her plush, pink terrycloth bathrobe.

"Good morning, gorgeous," I said as I took the steaming cup from her.

"Morning yourself. I like seeing you there. You match up well with the linens and the surroundings," she said.

"Good," I said, taking a sip of the fresh, rich brew. "I like being here."

She bent down and kissed me. Initially a peck, then a more leisurely, amorous kiss. Then she ran her hand lightly along my brow and cheek.

"You know, until last night the last time I had climaxed with a man was nearly 11 years ago," she said, a half-smile on her face as she let me do the math.

"You mean...," I said, and she was already nodding.

"Mmm hmm. That night. At the drive-in," she said.

"All those years with... Philip?"

"I didn't say it was the first time I'd had sex. I said it was the first time I had orgasmed... with a man," she said. "It wasn't a priority for him. I never felt cared for... like a full woman with him."

Now, I sat up and leaned into Becky and kissed her deeply.

In this kiss-and-tell moment of incredible intimacy, I told Becky how I had ended my long run without an ejaculation two nights before because of a dream -- a dream about her -- that awoke me, and that it was my memories of us -- of her -- from that night at the drive-in that propelled me to completion.

I said that I was blessed enough for that dream to become reality one night later and that I was able to respond to her as ardently as I did was exclusively a tribute to her. And the Fleshlight -- still in its shrink-wrapped box at the back of my sock drawer -- would be returned to the Snooty Fox for a refund.

"Last night was the most special and loving and life-changing encounter of my life, Becky. I have never known passion and connection and tenderness and sharing the way we did right here, and I don't ever want to be without you."

Her chin quivered slightly as she nodded and smiled.

"In those early days and through our time together back then, I was determined not to form a serious relationship. One ruined marriage, I thought, was enough. I could have fun, be friends -- maybe occasionally with benefits -- back then, but...," Becky said. "And your divorce was just going final, too. You didn't know what you wanted."

"I'm not that way anymore, Rick. Like you, there wasn't a day during all that time, even with Philip, that I didn't think of you... and wonder. I wondered if I'd ever find someone who could make me laugh and make life fun again the way you did. I even wondered if maybe one day we'd get another chance, and if we did..."

"And then, there you were bumping into me in the Snooty Fox," she said. "So we got that chance. And here we are. Fate again? Fate come full circle?"

She leaned into me again, her eyes riveted onto mine.

"But I know this, Rick: I lost you once, and I'll be damned if I let that happen again. I love you, my dearest friend and lover, and I'd be pleased for the rest of my life to have you think of me as home because I want you in my life," she said.

My hands gently framed her sweet face in a caress. I brought my face toward hers for a kiss but stopped just short.

"Deal," I said, proceeding with a fulsome, searching kiss.

Becky had already planned to work from home on Monday. Now holding a C-suite position with the insurance company, she had wide discretion on where she got her work done unless there was compelling reason to be on-site. With that in mind, I pushed the lapels of her bathrobe apart, exposing her breasts with their ruddy nipples already tightening in arousal beneath my fingers. She wasted no time either, reaching beneath the sheets for my already tumescent and fast-rising cock.

This time, with the morning sunlight streaming through the blinds, I had my best view yet of her perfectly imperfect 58-year-old body as I pressed her onto her back and splayed her robe open. I started with a slow, sensual kiss before kissing my way down her neck to the hollow between her breasts before suckling and tonguing each nipple to full turgidity, causing her hips to undulate gently.

From there, my tongue traced a route down the center of her abdomen to the hollow of her navel and then plunged into it. Now her loins were rocking more intently, her thighs scissoring together to create sensation against her vulva, and her left hand venturing of its own volition into her downy patch of nether hair to tease the tender folds already peeking from her outer slit.

From there, my series of kisses continued southward, my nostrils filling with her womanly richness. I peppered kisses on the periphery of her mound, now pushing assertively toward me before I detoured down the front of her right thigh down to her knee, then lifted her leg for the return trip down the back of her thigh almost until it reached the crease of her buttock, lingering at the crease that separated her leg from her pussy and then making the same circuit on her left leg.

That's when I brushed my lips gently across her flushed, dewy labia, causing her hips to jerk. I returned to her folds again, this time more insistent, kissing and nibbling them as I parted her legs wider and crept slowly, maddeningly toward her emerging clit. When my tongue at last made contact, her hips heaved into my face as Becky growled her yearning.

"Oh, don't stop, Rick, for God's sake," Becky rasped.

I doubled my tongue's ministrations up and down her pussy, from her opening to her shrouded jewel and back, over and over, then inserted my index finger just and inch or two into her vagina to massage its sensitive anterior wall, seeking her G-spot. When I found it, she whimpered. Moments later, the first wave of her orgasm hit and she cried out loudly, using both hands to hold my face against her sopping, spasming crotch.

In the minute or so it took for her to return to earth, I suspended suckling her clitoris or the tender folds, briefly too sensitive for stimulation. When I finally crawled upward to kiss her, she was still catching her breath.

"Rick, whatever you're doing, you're going to kill me," she said, informing me that she had just achieved her first orgasm from oral sex. "But that's understandable considering last night was the first time anyone had done that for me," she said.

I kissed her, allowing Becky to savor her own tangy, viscous juices, still coating my lips, face and tongue, and that quickly restored her arousal.

"Mmmmm, gimme," she said, sliding her hand down my belly to take my hardness in her hand and gently tug on it a few times. She wrapped her legs around my waist, freed the flanged head of my cock from its foreskin and swabbed it up and down her drenched slit before nestling it at her opening. I thrust slowly in.

"Oh, yesssss," she hissed, thrusting her pussy upward to meet my invading cock. "Make a sticky mess of my little pussy, Rick."

Not two weeks earlier, my doctor had me questioning whether I could ever achieve another erection. Now, I was rock-hard and racing headlong toward my third orgasm in 36 hours, and all three of them had everything to do with Becky Parsons.

Our first lovemaking in the missionary position put me in charge of tempo, and I began with long, slow strokes, burying myself at a deliberate pace to the hilt, then retreating almost fully from her before repeating the process. Clearly, she was warming to it, but heightened her own sensation by bracketing her clit between the first two fingers of her left hand and slowly rolling it in a circular motion.

Our motions quickly became more hurried and urgent, my strokes still deep but shorter, and her hips and mound bucking more forcefully into me. A dreamy look came over her face as she exhorted me with every other quickened breath to keep feeding my hardness into her exactly as I was.