Reunions

"Last evening together, " she said. "I remember sitting at that table thinking this would be the worst weekend trip in years. But then you came along."

He held her hand and replied. "Did I seem confident?" She nodded. "I was shaking in my boots. Here's this beautiful woman sitting alone, her husband probably within earshot, and I'm walking over there trying to make conversation. I thought you were stunning from the moment I laid eyes on you."

There was a long sidewalk leading from the hotel, past the mall, and a few strip malls beyond to the restaurant. It was easy travel by foot, but they were still wary. Occasionally a car would pass by and stir up a warm breeze.

"I'm glad you thought we should have an early dinner," she said. "My flight is very early tomorrow."

He chucked. "You give me too much credit. I wasn't thinking about dinner so much as dessert," he said with a grin.

She shook her head. "I'm not sure I can keep up with you, sir. You're a hard driver."

He stopped walking and took her in his arms. "I've not felt this full of life in years. And the thought of being on opposite coasts is a killer. You're not some new toy I'll play with and discard. I want to make memories with you to sustain me until I can relocate. I know we've been, well, busy—"

"Really busy!" She said, laughing.

"But I hope you felt as much warmth and joy as I did," he said.

She nodded, adding a tear to her response.

"Tonight, I want to eat you and make you cum. Then, I want to make love to you gently, lovingly, and tenderly so you'll have something to remember me beside the hard fucking I gave you earlier." The last bit was delivered with a smirk.

"Oh, trust me," she said. "I'm going to remember both."

Full stomachs and a few glasses of wine made the walk back easier. They were arm-in-arm, with Lydia's head resting against him. They moved as one, as though they had been together for years.

Their last evening was spent in James' room. Lydia had packed most of her things before joining him, ensuring a clean getaway in the morning. When James hung the do not disturb tag and shut the door, it was just the two of them for the last time.

Lydia said, "My flight is really early. If you're not awake, I'm just going to slip out. Please don't be angry."

"I understand," he said. He kissed her, then moved to the loveseat to remove his shoes.

"No teddy?" He asked when she came to the bed naked.

She smiled. "I think lingerie will be a big part of the bedroom for us, but not tonight. I want to feel your skin, all that manly hair, and get as sticky as I want."

"I see," he said. "What an excellent plan."

He moved toward her, but she stopped him. He knew there was something wrong. "What?"

She couldn't quite meet his eyes. "James, I'm old enough to know that sometimes people change their minds. It's OK. If you get back to Boston and realize you've made a mistake, please don't ghost me. Just call, and we'll say a proper goodbye."

He began to object, but she raised a finger to stop him.

"This isn't about me feeling unworthy," she said. "This is about adults sometimes changing their minds. I'm not looking for sympathy or promises, just honesty. This weekend, these last twenty-four hours have been a wonderful experience. I wouldn't trade it for the world, even if you ultimately decide we shouldn't go further. I'm just trying to protect myself from sitting by the phone and you not calling."

He sat her on the bed, settled beside her, and held her hand. "I promise I will always try to be honest with you and that I'll never be cowardly and do something like ghosting you. I don't do that to friends."

She nodded and pulled the covers back. The curtains were left open enough to let in the late evening sun, painting the wall opposite the bed with a red and yellowish hue. James extinguished the last light and joined her, snuggling and kissing her forehead before relaxing.

"I like being in bed with you," she said. "The sex is great, don't get me wrong, but spooning with you, cuddling, and just talking is wonderful, too. I feel so comfortable with you. My bed is going to feel very empty when I get home."

He sighed. "Mine, too," he said. "I've not been this happy and relaxed in years. You really are magic."

"Maybe just the girls are," she said, and she scooted up and dangled her boobs in his face.

He ran his tongue along the areola, nipped the nipples with his teeth, and sucked. She fed him both breasts, alternating the one getting attention. He massaged and squeezed gently, slapped his face with them, and threatened to fuck them again if she didn't settle down.

"I like a good titty-fucking," she said, "but that's not what you promised me."

"Indeed not," he said, and he slipped lower in the bed, got her flat on her back, and slipped his arms under her knees.

She propped herself up with pillows so she could watch James have his dessert. He was gentle, kissing her inner thighs and pussy lips, making her wet, and relaxing her before he brought a finger near her hole. His tongue traveled the length of her pussy, from bottom to top, mashing the hidden button and back again. She began making noises when he tongue-fucked her, licking, stabbing, kissing, and sliding, always paying attention to her clit.

She waited for the probing finger, but it didn't appear. Instead, his tongue worked her into a frenzy. She was so close, so very close, and he would bring her to the edge only to let her slip back. She was aching for release, ready to grab his head and force his face down on her cunt, fucking his head with her own thrusts, when she felt the first invasion. She was so wet she didn't sense it at first. Small movements, with his tongue and lips still working, were felt. Then, larger movements from his finger and the lightest touches on the top of her pussy nearing the G-spot. Just a little come-hither motion of his finger and she was climbing the walls.

"Oh, fuck," she said, "right there."

He latched on to the clit and sucked while sliding his finger in and out, tenderly teasing her G-spot. Her orgasm hit, and he felt her pussy convulse. She grasped handfuls of his hair, pulling his head down hard on her clit. She possibly tried to speak, but her words were a jumble.

He continued the assault on her clit and G-spot, fighting her fists full of his hair and her hips thrusting up, beating his head. Suddenly she released him, pushed him off her mound, and curled up on her side, unwilling to be touched. He waited while the petite mort passed.

"You wrecked me," she whispered.

"I'm pretty sure you're not broken," he said.

She moved and made eye contact. "You don't understand. You've wrecked me for all other men. Nobody is going to make me cum like that, only you. If you leave me, I'll have to move to a convent."

He laughed. "There's very little chance of that. Give me a second, and I'll clean you up."

He walked to the bathroom, ran warm water, and dampened a washcloth. When he returned, he gently untangled her limbs and carefully cleaned around her pussy, warming and relaxing her.

"That's nice," she said. "Nobody has ever done that for me before. You spoil me."

When he climbed back into bed, he spooned her and said, "You are an amazing person. You deserved to be pampered."

"If you do leave me for another woman," she said, "I'm warning you: I will go Fatal Attraction on that bitch."

He laughed. "See: funny. You have me nearly saying those three little words."

"Can I rest a bit?" She said.

"Of course."

And with that, she fell asleep in his arms.

THE END