Reignited Flame Pt. 01

"You always did have good taste," she told me twenty minutes later, once we were in my living room, and she was turning a slow circle to take in the warm, cosy, slightly rustic décor. Jessica had used to tell me it was naff, "old-fashioned," but that was what I liked about it.

I handed Dawn another glass of wine, watched her sit down on the settee by the dormant fireplace. Thought about whether I should take the adjacent armchair, the less "provocative" option — until she kicked off her shoes, then scooted all the way up against the armrest, freeing up more than half the settee for me to sit down.

"You've had this place a while, right?" she asked, as I sank into the seat beside her, slipping off my own shoes. I nodded as I took a sip of my wine. "You never thought about leaving?"

I shrugged, staring into my glass as if looking for the answer to her question. Decided to be honest with her. "Only when it became clear you weren't ever coming back."

She gently chewed on her bottom lip, as faint tears swelled in her eyes. She took a deep breath, and I knew that she was steadying herself. When she spoke again, it was in a whisper that I could barely hear. "Did you ever move on?"

I reached out my free hand to squeeze her shoulder, softly rub her arm in light, circular motions. "Yeah, I moved on. Kind of. I mean, I wasn't always sad, nothing like that... I had a couple of girlfriends." I snaked my hand through the gap between her ponytail and the back of her neck; felt the scorching heat of her pale skin against my fingers. "No one I really connected with, though. Not properly..."

I saw her own fingers wrapped so tightly around the stem of the wine glass, I worried it might shatter in her hand. Silence had fallen over us, stretching on for I-don't-know-how-long, as we stared at each other, unblinking. I was keeping totally still; too scared to move, in case I pounced, giving in to the desires exploding inside me by scooping her up off the settee and carrying her up to my bedroom. She was still, technically, a married woman, and I wanted to give her every chance to change her mind, if that's what she wanted. Every part of me was begging for her not to do that; I wanted to caress, and stroke, and kiss, and fuck her so badly right now.

But I loved her, too.

So when she leaned over and touched her lips to mine, it was such a relief, I felt tears swell in my eyes, just as I'd seen them swell in hers. I could taste the wine on her lips as she kissed me, and on her tongue as it wriggled into my mouth. Awkwardly, we broke off to put down our glasses, Dawn taking mine and turning to place them on the coffee table. Barely had she turned back to me, when I was on her, taking her hips in my hands and yanking her to me, lifting my own hips so that her body slid underneath mine. She was lying on her back. I let my weight fall gently on top of her — but there was nothing gentle about our kiss, our lips slamming together, our tongues wrestling as we moaned into each other's mouths. Underneath the flavour of the wine, she tasted exactly as I remembered her tasting, so many years ago. Her tongue felt exactly the same, and it probed my mouth with the same looping, flicking trajectories I remembered from when we were a couple. It was all so comfortable, so familiar. So perfect.

Her hands took two fistfuls of my t-shirt, before they opened up and pressed against my taut stomach. She growled, biting my bottom lip at feeling my firm and muscular torso, her hands slipping under the hem of my top with urgency, her palms searing hot against my bare flesh, which was quickly beginning to film with sweat. I felt her long fingernails slowly crawling up toward my chest, felt her whole body tremble...

"Ohhhh... your body feels so fucking sexy, I can't take it," she breathed, her eyes half-open as her fingers flexed, her long nails lightly scratching my skin, sending a gentle charge of electricity through my whole, entire body. My cock, which had been fully erect since even before we started kissing, first twitched, then flexed as if trying to tear its way out of my jeans. I gasped, squeezing Dawn's shoulders and burying my face in her neck, groaning as I willed my balls not to unleash a month's worth of cum right here and now, before we'd even got naked. I couldn't let that happen. Not before I'd made Dawn come; not before I'd made her feel as amazing as she deserved to feel. I groaned and moaned against her skin. I angled my hips away from her, to at least take away half the stimulating pressure from my cock. But her hands were travelling down my torso, then working at my belt buckle with the instinctive skill that she'd always had.

"Let me feel it," she moaned into my ear. "Let me feel you... it's been so fucking long... I need you ..."

My belt was unbuckled, the button of my jeans undone, and she had worked my zip fly all the way down. Her fingers climbed over the waistband of my underwear, pulling them away from my belly as the backs of her fingers moved inwards from my hips, her nails grazing the edges of the pubic hair I was suddenly regretting not keeping in better shape.

Her lips were pinching my earlobe, the tip of her tongue tracing a line along the edge of my ear. She moaned again, as her fingers found me. "There it is," she said, her voice quivering with excitement and need as her soft fingers slowly slid around my shaft. "Oh, God, I've missed this... I can't believe how hard you are, I love it."

I gasped, my breath a sharp whimper as she moved her hand in a long, lazy stroke from the head to the base, and back up again. "Dawn, wait, stop-stop-stop—"

But it was too late. I was already coming, all over her hand.

Dawn

"Shit!" Tom breathed, as spurt after spurt of scalding hot cum — so much cum — ran into the palm I'd instinctively held out. I can't lie: a part of me was disappointed to be catching that load with just my hand...

A wet, hot, throbbing part of me.

"This is what I get for not abusing myself for a month," he mumbled.

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"Doesn't matter," he said, staring down at his cock. His lip curled in disgust, and I could tell he was thinking, you traitor! Then he looked back up at me. "I'm sorry... Dawn, I—"

"It's all right," I replied, sliding out from underneath him and reaching for the box of tissues on the coffee table. As I wiped my hands, I told him: "Fifteen years since last time we were together — you seriously think there's not going to be a round two? Or three? You're mine, Thomas... All night."

When I turned back to him, I saw a gleam in those deep brown eyes, his lips pursing as his eyes travelled all over me. A tiny fire started somewhere in my abdomen, burning its way down into my sex, to see how clearly and obviously he wanted me. It was an unfamiliar feeling. But a fantastic one.

"Yes, I am," he said, standing up off the couch and removing his t-shirt, unveiling the smooth, taut, and muscular torso I'd just been caressing. I let out a shaky breath as my eyes drank in every line, every contour; every dip and swell of his muscles; watched them ripple as he bent down to slide his jeans all the way off, and then his boxers, stepping out of them and standing naked in front of me, a last, lazy strand of cum crawling out of his now-flaccid cock. I took a deep breath through my nose, inhaling the scent, his scent — the same one I'd imagined in the pub earlier tonight, even before I'd turned around and confirmed that, yes, he was here; yes, I had felt his presence. My mouth began to water at the thought of getting him hard again with my lips and tongue; of plunging my face into the musky, invisible cloud that was hanging over him, devouring him...

I reached for the hem of my jumper. He leaned down over me, hands clamping over my forearms. "No," he said, firmly. "Not here." He took my hand in his and gently pulled me off the settee; then he placed his hands underneath my arms and lifted me off the ground as easily as if I weighed next to nothing. My legs wrapped around his hips, my feet crossing at the ankles as if locking him in place. For a few seconds, we just stared at each other, my heart feeling like it wanted to climb out of my chest and shatter itself at his feet, as a way of proving just how much I loved this man, had always loved him.

When we kissed this time, it was a deeper, softer kiss than the ones we'd just been exchanging, though no less urgent. A scalding, pulsing yearning rose in my sex, as if my whole body wanted to open up and devour him alive.

When he broke the kiss and took me up the stairs toward his bedroom, it was all I could do not to weep with relief. I was in Tom's bedroom. I felt like I was getting back to where I belonged.

He stopped at the foot of his bed, setting me down, then came around behind me to gently kiss the back of my neck, his strong hands softly pressing against my hips, as if keeping me in place — even though I was not planning on going anywhere. He took the hem of my jumper and pulled it up over my head. I heard him toss it somewhere across the room, as his hands moved to my breasts, fingers dancing over the lace of my bra, then sliding down to my belly. I felt a sudden, infuriating twinge of self-consciousness at remembering that it was softer, rounder than he would remember it as being. Well, I was a mother-of-two who was pushing forty. I held my breath, half-expecting him to snatch his hands away, the moment ruined. But he just pulled me closer, planting more kisses on my neck while his hands found the button of my jeans, unfastening it, then sliding them slowly down over the swell of my bum. I stepped free and turned around, just as he was standing back up. He put his hands lightly on my hips, pulling me towards him and kissing me — another soft, tender, loving kisses that had my heart swooning as much as my sex was throbbing.

"Lay down," he whispered in between kisses, his lips brushing against mine, his hot breath tickling my mouth. I unhooked and removed my bra, letting it fall to the floor with the rest of my clothes, laying back on the bed as he instructed. I could feel my panties were soaked and sticking to me when I caught sight of the way his strong arms rippled and bulged as he positioned himself above me. My body was crying out for his, literally weeping to have him inside me, but when I looked down and saw the way his cock still hung limp between his legs, then looked up and saw his hands drifting towards the last item of clothing I was wearing, I realised he had something else in mind.

To my annoyance, I felt a familiar habit kicking in as he removed my panties, exposing me fully. A habit of closing my thighs and turning my hips. All at once, I was aware of the fact that it had been nearly fourteen hours since I had last showered, during which time I'd been wearing tight-fitting jeans, and had taken a long train journey. Added to this was the fact that, as a woman in a loveless marriage, I'd had no reason to maintain any kind of "grooming regime" the last few years. To say I was self-conscious about how I might look, how I might smell, was an understatement. After all, Mark had hated going down on me, could only bring himself to do it if I had literally just stepped out of the bath or shower. When your own husband won't put his mouth on you, you don't assume that anyone else is going to be all that keen to.

But Tom didn't stop. He just lifted my legs, still clamped together, up into the air, his jaw hanging slack with a kind of hunger as he stared at me... Stared into me. He kissed all along my hamstrings, over my buttocks, lightly pecking the lips of his mouth against the lips of my sex, breathing in deeply and exhaling with soft little moans.

"You smell exactly the same," he murmured, his hot breath like a wave breaking against my aching sex which, if it had a voice of its own, would have been screaming, Give me your fucking tongue!

But he didn't give me his tongue. He went back to my thighs, my hamstrings, lapping his tongue, then kissing where he'd licked. The more and more he gave hungry moans that promised he was going to utterly devour me with his mouth any moment now, the more and more he murmured how good I smelled, how "fucking beautiful" I looked down there, the more the muscles in my thighs began to relax, and unclench. When his fingers slid between them to pry them apart, I offered no resistance. And when I looked up and saw him licking his lips as his head slowly sank towards me, I half-worried I might drown him.

As he planted more soft kisses seemingly anywhere but where I wanted him to, this time tracing lines down my inner thigh, then along the edge of my pubic hair, then up my other thigh, it took everything I had not to grab his head and shove his face into me. I lay my head back, giving soft little gasps that were almost whimpers that pleaded with him to give me his tongue.

And when he finally did, I almost exploded, helplessly arching my back as a wave of pleasure swelled in my belly and below. I half-expected to come as quickly as he had just done, downstairs. I tried to give him some directions, but the only sounds out of my mouth were more whimpers, more gasps; shallow, quickening breaths that were not in any language. His tongue was making looping, digging motions between my lips, and the vibrations of his moans right against me added to the rhythmic tremors that were running through my lower body — so powerful, at first I barely felt his fingers exposing my clit, pinching it between his lips, pulling and tugging before flicking the tip of his tongue right against it, in every direction. I arched my back again, trying to shove as much of me into him as I could, wanting him to have all that he could handle. And when he slid two fingers into me, I was done. I wailed as the first orgasm I'd had in I-didn't-know-how-long ripped right through me, so powerful I felt like I could tear holes in Tom's mattress, I was gripping it so hard.

When I was done coming, I giggled in release, relief, and utter gratitude. My thighs were still quivering as he slithered up my body, pausing with his face just inches from mine. His lips and chin were glistening with the juice that had gushed from me.

"Can I kiss you?" he asked. I answered by lifting my head up off the bed, plunging my tongue into his mouth, and finding myself agreeing with him.

I tasted amazing.

Tom

I hadn't been expecting to get hard again for a while — but the sight of Dawn's head thrashing from side to side as I went down on her, the wave after wave of fluid that gushed, flooding my mouth, the way she wailed as she came, had me hard all over again.

I positioned myself between her, feeling the dampness of her inner thighs as they clamped against my hips; leaned down and gave her one more deep kiss, lowering my body so she could feel my hardening cock against her belly.

"I need to fuck you," I tell her. "Now..."

She nodded, her teeth clamping on her lower lip again. "Fuck me," she sighed. "Fuck me..."

I slid into her easily — she was so wet! Moving my hips slowly, I found my stroke, my rhythm, feeling her tightening, closing in on me as she moved her hips in time with mine, her legs wrapping around my waist, her crossed feet clutching at me, pulling me deeper and deeper into her. I closed my eyes, focusing only on the sensations of being inside the woman I had always loved. The only woman I'd ever wanted to love, and the only woman I'd ever wanted to love me. It was all so perfect, I felt the sharp sting of tears behind my eyes. And when I opened my eyes, I saw that she had tears in hers, too.

We stayed like that for a long time, tear-filled eyes on each other, mouths open, gasping and whimpering as our second orgasms of the night built and built and built. I dragged my eyes away from hers to drink in the sight of her naked body beneath me. Her moon-white flesh; her pale, pink nipples. I took one in my mouth, running my tongue around and around it, gently kneading the other breast as I drove myself into her, deeper and deeper, until I felt her hand clutch at the back of my head.

"Tom, Tom...! Tom! Oh, fuck...!"

When she arched her back one more time, I wrapped both my arms around her, holding her tight, holding her close to me, as if trying to absorb her into my body.

"Tom, Tom, Tom, yes...!"

"I'm going to come, Dawn," I gasped, through gritted teeth. "Should I—"

"Don't you fucking dare pull out," she growled, her crossed feet pinning me to her. "Don't you fucking dare! Come with me, Tom. Come with me—aaaah!"

As the grip of her sex closed around me, I arched my back, trying to shove all of myself into her, as I pushed my face into the pillow and screamed her name as I came.

Afterwards, I lay lazily on top of her, our bodies slick with sweat, and neither one of us sure whose heart it was that we could feel pounding. I wasn't entirely sure one of us didn't pass out for a moment. But pretty soon, I felt Dawn placing soft kisses on my shoulder, her fingernails running lightly along my back.

I nuzzled her nose, gently pressing my lips against hers again. My heart and soul were singing.

She took my face in her hands, looking up at me. "What are you thinking about?"

"Honest answer?" I asked. She nodded. "I'm thinking, I'm really glad I decided to go to the pub tonight!"

She burst out laughing, covering her mouth with one hand while I placed more kisses along her cheekbone, still damp with the tears she had shed earlier. Moved my lips to her ear, and whispered: "I love you. I've always loved you."

When I looked back at her, I saw her eye glistening with tears again. "I love you."

A typical, lonely Friday night had taken a sharp, sudden turn into something else. Something beautiful and sensual. And as we cuddled up to each other and fell asleep, I willed my heart to ignore the voice in my head, the voice that was questioning how long this could realistically last? Asking, did I really think Dawn and I were just going to pick up where we left off, after all this time? With everything that she was going to have to sort out back in London?

I wanted to ignore that voice, just for tonight.

To be continued.