Sans Serif

'Phoenix - September 3-5 - The Embassy Suites Downtown North.'

And below the list of her travel schedule, she had typed, 'I'll be alone. Will you cum and keep me company?'

I could not believe my luck. I had more than enough accrued leave. So, I probably could have made any of them. But Phoenix was easy. It was only three-hundred and sixty miles. And I could drive it in under five and a half hours. Or I could fly just as cheap and a little faster, but I wouldn't have my car. So, traveling from San Diego to Phoenix, unless it was just for the day - it was a tossup whether to fly or drive.

'Phoenix!' I typed. 'I can do that.'

It was a date, and even though it was six weeks away, I was so excited I couldn't stand it. The days just crept by. It was the longest six weeks of my life. And the only thing that made it bearable was that we chatted over the typewriter maybe three or four times a week. Not every day, but enough to keep me sane. And an added plus was that we continued with typewriter sex. Not every time we chatted, but at least once a week, and it was always the climatic event of the week for me.

September 3^rd was a Sunday, and I wanted to get there early. I booked a room at the Embassy Suites for Saturday night. There was no reason to book anything past that, as I'd be staying in Ellen's room, and IBM would be paying for it. I gassed up the car Friday night and made arrangements with the kid next door to take care of Henry. I'd used him several times before when I was out of town, and he was always great. Besides, Henry loves him, and that's what really matters.

I left the house before sunrise and stopped at a Starbucks as soon as they were open. With a Venti coffee, a hot breakfast sandwich, plus a couple of muffins, I was ready for the open road. Since I had to stop in Gila Bend for gas, I didn't arrive at the Embassy Suites until noon. But still, I made the trip in great time, and the six hours on the road gave me plenty of time to fantasize about the two days I would get to spend with Ellen.

I checked into the hotel, ate lunch at a Panera Bread across the street, and then started planning our exploration of the city during the two days we would be together. That was when she wasn't occupied by work. I drove over to Scottsdale to ensure I could find it. I then drove by various local attractions so that I could be her tour guide, and she would be so impressed that she would ravish me once we were behind closed doors.

She didn't arrive at the hotel until after 4:30 Sunday afternoon. Still, the enthusiasm of her hug and the sparkle in her eyes confirmed that she was as glad to see me as I was to see her. Once we were checked in and had made it to our new room, we embraced in a long and passionate kiss. As our kiss slowly broke, she kept smiling and glancing at the bed. Twitching her eyes repeatedly toward the bed, with a huge grin on her face, and snapping them back to me, she was playfully signaling that we probably had time for a quicky before dinner. Trying not to laugh out loud, I was finally able to ask, "Aren't you hungry?"

"For you," she teased.

"I know you didn't eat breakfast. So, what did you have for lunch?"

"Peanuts - oh, and a glass of wine."

"Oh my," I exclaimed. "I need to get you fed. You're going to need the energy for what I have in store for you tonight."

She laughed and releasing her bear hug on me, said, "Okay, Romeo. Feed me."

Thirty minutes later, we arrived at the original P.F. Chang's in Old Town Scottsdale. In 1995, P.F. Chang's was still a relatively new concept. However, Ellen apparently had already heard of them, as she was delighted when we pulled into the parking lot and realized where we would be dining. Dinner was absolutely fabulous. And after dinner, we walked Old Town Scottsdale with its art galleries, fashion boutiques, and various shops of gifts and souvenirs, all with a Southwest or desert theme. Walking hand in hand was wonderful, but both of us had much more intimate themes on our minds, and soon we were heading back to my car and then back to our hotel.

Once behind closed doors for the second time that day, and still standing only inches inside our room, I nudged Ellen to the wall, and as I wrapped her in my arms, our lips met in a passionate kiss. Ellen threw her arms around me, and as she pulled me as tightly to her as she could, I buried my fingers into her hair and held her lips to mine.

It had been too many months since the night we spent together in Washington. And as my body must have ached to feel her in my arms again, Ellen's yearning to touch me, to kiss me, and to feel me inside her must have been just as strong. And as Ellen had been the initiator that first night together, tonight it was my turn. Despite her unemotional demeanor the morning after our first encounter, my anxiety over the state of our relationship had melted away due to months of typewriter sex and tender love notes.

Ellen was fully dressed, as was I. But I was so hungry for her; such details were just going to have to wait. She was dressed in a turquoise blouse and a white linen skirt. The skirt was relatively short, maybe a few inches above the knee. And the blouse was loose fitting and open enough to expose her ample cleavage. The fabric of her blouse was thin enough to reveal that she was wearing a bra. But that was to be expected as she had spent most of her day either on an airplane or in various airports.

With our tongues still exploring each other's mouths, and with my hands still gripping her head, I slowly pulled Ellen away from the wall. And with our lips still sealed in that moment of fresh love, I waltzed her backward further into the room. As the backs of her legs made contact with the bed, I broke our lip lock and playfully pushed her flat onto her back. The way she had landed on the bed, I could already see her panties, and that was all I needed to get my mid-life hormones kicked into high gear.

I picked up one of her feet with the intention of simply removing her sandals. But once I had the first sandal off, an urge came over me I had never known before. I wanted to kiss her feet. No, more than that, I wanted to suck her toes. Her toenails were painted a pale pink, and they were the most beautiful toes I had ever seen in my life. So, after a quick kiss and then a lick, I popped her big toe into my mouth. It was strange, yet sexy in a way I had never known. And in less than five minutes, I had given each little piggy a succulent tonguing.

Ellen was giggling like a schoolgirl the whole time, so I assume this was something she enjoyed. And as I had enjoyed the first foot so much, I quickly removed her other sandal. I then pampered the remaining five little piggies with the same love and affection I had given the first five.

Finally, feeling that I had caressed and pampered her feet as much as possible, it was now time to move further north. Picking the first leg back up again, I began a tender trail of sloppy, wet kisses up her ankle, to her calf, and then to the back of her knee. As I approached her inner thigh, her skirt rode up, and I got a much closer look at her exposed panties. They were of that polyester-spandex that most women seem to wear and off-white in color - not unlike the color of her skirt. And though they may not have been the sexiest of ladies' undergarments, they were none the less a sight for sore eyes as far as I was concerned.

I didn't immediately move to remove her panties. Instead, I kissed and licked one inner thigh and then the other. Back and forth several times, all the while getting closer and closer to my ultimate goal. And up until this point, she smelled fresh and clean, which surprised me. I was sure she hadn't showered since leaving her house in New York this morning. Which had probably been more than twelve hours and two-thousand air-miles ago. Plus, dinner with me and walking Old Town Scottsdale. So, this underwear of man-made fabric was apparently hiding more than just the physical object of my desires. But the fragrance as well.

Withdrawing my face from between her legs, I reached for the waist band of her panties. But unfortunately, as these were not either hip huggers or bikini briefs, the waist band of her skirt was impeding my progress. I don't know if Ellen sensed the obstacle I was facing or if she was as anxious for me to proceed as I was. But suddenly, she sat up, unsnapped the waistband of her skirt, and then, falling back onto the bed, raised her hips and quickly wrangled out of both her skirt and her lingerie - at least the lower portion.

As she spread her legs again for me, her garden of earthly delights came into full view. And what a delight they were. She was still full bush, as they would say. But I had never been with a woman that wasn't. It was all I knew, and all I could think about at that moment was to bury my face in that delightful abyss of carnal desire.

As my face, nose and tongue made contact with her southern region, my nostrils, as well as my lungs, were filled with her feminine bouquet. This was an aroma I had known and loved all my adult life. But referring to what I had said previously about a woman's desired level of personal hygiene being affected by a specific passage of time - well, I now stand corrected. Ellen's scent could not be improved upon, and I lovingly languished over her feminine folds and dark brunette locks for close to ten minutes without so much as raising my head to take a breath.

In that time period, I did manage to get her to at least one minor orgasm, as evidenced by her leakage on the bedspread below us. But I wanted more. I had never made a woman literally squirt in my life. And as wet and aroused as Ellen seemed to be, I felt I had a chance. I withdrew my face far enough so that I could insert two fingers, which she seemed to love. And based on her initial response, I rolled them upward and began the come hither motion. I have no idea what the G-spot is supposed to feel like, so I don't know if I actually found it or not. But as I increased my speed and forcefulness, I must have found something she adored. For several minutes later, she was thrashing around like a fish out of water. And when she began screaming in ecstasy, I pulled my fingers out, and a massive gusher of hot, pungent liquid followed.

I had done it. I had gotten my first woman to squirt. As I watched in awe, Ellen suddenly reached for my arms, and pulling me toward her, cried out, "Fuck me, Dean! For God's sake, fuck me!"

Shaken from my near trance of watching her squirming and squirting in a frenzy of sexual release, I realized that I still had my pants on. Hell, I was still fully dressed - I even still had my shoes on. But wanting to waste no time. I slid off the bed, unbuckled my belt and pushed my slacks to my knees. I wasted no time with any other garments. I even left my shoes on. For if Ellen wanted me to, "Fuck her, for God's sake fuck her," I was in no position to question her.

I probably don't have to tell you - I didn't last long. Maybe three or four minutes. But when my release came, another wave of warm lady juice gushed from her crotch in big squirts and squishes as I continued to pound her until I had just nothing left.

At first, I just collapsed on her. I was totally spent, and I assumed she was as well. But other than my pants being down around my knees, I was still fully dressed. And Ellen was still wearing her blouse and bra. After several minutes of heavy breathing, I rolled off of her, sat up and helped her to a sitting position. We were still both breathing pretty hard, but I don't think either one of us wanted to remain clothed. Ellen started unbuttoning her blouse as I stood to get undressed. As she had far less to remove than I did, she finished much sooner. And as I toiled with my own undressing, she pulled back the bed cover and top sheet so we could cuddle up in preparation for whatever was next.

Before slipping back into bed with her, I turned off all the lights and made sure the night latch was secure. Then, once safely between the sheets, we simply snuggled for a good fifteen or twenty minutes. But I knew she wasn't done, as actually, it was still pretty early, maybe only none o'clock, and I wasn't surprised when her hands began a southerly journey of their own. Finding Little Dean in a state of semi-arousal, she slowly began stroking him back to glory. And though I was otherwise exhausted, my little man found the strength for one more hurrah. Once my manhood was able to stand on his own, Ellen ducked under the sheet and lovingly sucked him into her mouth.

Oh my God, was it ever heavenly. I have had many blow jobs in my life. In fact, Ellen sucked me to conclusion that first night we spent together. But it was nothing like this. I can't remember a woman ever giving me a blow job after just fucking her. And I guess I had always assumed no woman would ever voluntarily do that. But Ellen seemed to relish it. And I really thought I had died and gone to heaven. As I wasn't bone hard, she lovingly sucked and played with my wiggly stick for over ten minutes until I was hard enough to mount. And mount me she did. Now, for the next fifteen minutes or more, she just slowly rocked back and forth. Sometimes sitting upright on my hips and sometimes laying across my chest while she nibbled on my ear. And when she felt I was getting too close to a climax - she would rest without actually allowing me to slip out of her.

When I couldn't be denied any longer, she allowed me to fill her for a second time that night, and as our combined juices wet the bed beneath us, all I remember was her literally falling asleep laying across my chest.

The following morning was much more pleasant than the morning after in Washington. Ellen woke up cheerful and playful. We didn't have sex again that morning, as she had meetings to attend. And both of us were well satisfied from the evening before. So, while Ellen was in the shower, I ran down to the lobby to grab a couple of coffees and two muffins. I remembered how she took her coffee, so I added half a sugar and two creams.

When I got back upstairs, Ellen was drying her hair. Putting the hair dryer down, and picking up her coffee, and taking a sip, she smiled and said, "Perfect - how did you know?"

"I remembered how you took it in Washington."

Her eyes dropped, but she kept a sheepish smile, "You remembered that?"

I gently took her face in my hand and lifted her eyes to meet mine. "Ellen, I remember every tiny detail of meeting you, inviting you to dinner, walking you around DC, and the subway ride back to your hotel." Her smile turned wistful, and she took her free hand in mine. "But there is so much I don't know about you," I said with a lump in my throat.

"In due time lover," she said. "In due time."

She took several more sips of her coffee. Then, with a squeeze of my hand, she slowly stood and returned to getting dressed for her business day.

A little before eight, she was ready to go. Turning toward me, she held her arms out and asked. "How do I look?"

"Beautiful," was all I said. She stepped toward me, and with her arms still raised, she wrapped them around me and kissed me on the lips. "Lunch?" I asked as she turned for the door.

"Of course," she said, turning back to make eye contact. Meet me in the lobby at noon. I should be available." And then she was gone, at least for the morning. The Embassy Suites offers a full cook-to-order breakfast. So, once I was alone with my thoughts, I rode the elevator down and took advantage of IBM's hospitality.

However, throughout breakfast, I could not get Ellen's last words out of my head. "In due time, lover - In due time." What did that mean? What was she not telling me? My mind raced with thoughts of every possible explanation. Was she married? Was she involved with someone else? Did she have children? Was she dying of cancer? Hell, was she a cat person or a dog person? There were so many questions. I didn't even know where she lived or her home phone number. All I knew was that she worked for IBM, she traveled on business, and that I was absolutely crazy for her. Oh, there was one other thing. She apparently was not concerned about birth control. I was fixed, but she didn't know that. So, had she already reached menopause, or was she on birth control because she was already in another relationship? Jeez, I've got to stop - I'm driving myself crazy.

After breakfast, I went back upstairs to "shit, shower and shave," as they would say in the Navy. Then, I walked the neighborhood of Midtown Phoenix, including over to Encanto Park. It was nice, but mostly an in-town golf course, and I didn't have my clubs with me - so, just a pleasant walk. Of course, the entire time, I was thinking of nothing but Ellen. I couldn't get her off my mind. I returned to the Embassy Suites around eleven-forty, so I decided to just wait in the lobby for her.

About five minutes to twelve, she came dashing in the door and breathlessly explained that she wasn't going to be available for lunch after all. IBM had already planned a luncheon for the attendees of whatever event she was attending, and she would not be able to skip it. "I'm so sorry, Sweetie. I'll meet you here a little after four," she said with a quick peck on the lips, and she dashed back out the sliding glass door of the hotel.

Okay, at least she didn't stand me up. And she called me "Sweetie." That was a first, and though I would have loved to have had lunch with her, that single word eased my disappointment to a manageable level. I ate lunch again across the street at Panera Bread. September is still summer in Phoenix, so it was getting too hot to continue walking the neighborhood. And though my car was in the garage, there wasn't anywhere I really wanted to go, at least not without Ellen. So, back at the hotel, I picked up several tourist maps of the city and pamphlets on local attractions and planned out our evening of exploration.

That afternoon, she met me at four o'clock in the lobby as promised. "I'm so sorry about lunch," she sighed after giving me a quick hug.

'Oh, no problem," I quickly countered. "You're working, and I'm not. I understand, really. Besides, you called me Sweetie, so that made it all worthwhile."

She blushed because I don't even think she realized that she had said it. But it did initiate another quick peck on the lips, and as she grabbed my hand, we headed up to our room. Once in the elevator, she asked, "So, what's the plan for the rest of the day? I'm off work, and my flight back to New York isn't until tomorrow morning."

"Oh, do I have plans for you. First, we're driving up to lover's lane, then a romantic dinner for two with a view of the city at night," I said, swinging her hand.

"Awe, you're giving me goosebumps," she replied with a shiver and an alluring smile.

"That's not all I'm going to give you," I said with a squeeze of her hand. Triggering another quick peck on the lips. I think I would have gotten more, but just then, the elevator dinged as we arrived at our floor. Once inside our room, Ellen made a quick trip to the bathroom, and returned wearing nothing but her bra.

"I like your outfit, but I think it is a little skimping for going out in public," I joked.

She got the joke and just waved me off as she headed to her open suitcase. First, she slipped into a pair of sexy undies, then a pair of khaki walking shorts, and finally, a white sleeveless cotton blouse. "Ta-da," she exclaimed. "I'm ready to be seen in public."

"I liked you the way you were. But at least this way, we won't be arrested," I said as I gave her a quick hug. I grabbed some bottled waters, along with my maps and tourist information pamphlets, and stuffed them all into a small day pack that I'd brought from home, and off we went. Once in my car, we turned left onto Central Avenue and headed south, across I-10, then through downtown - with a quick side trip to circle the Arizona State Capitol Building. Then back on Central Avenue, under I-17, across the Salt River - that looked pretty dry to me, to the gates of the South Mountain Park.