tagErotic CouplingsSweaty Nostalgia

Sweaty Nostalgia


I'm entering this in the "Summer Lovin'" contest. It's my first contest. I implore you to vote for me! I'll do anything you want!


I remember how we met. I was sitting with my laptop in a warm and cozy apartment on a snowy winter's eve in France, listening to Pharoah Sanders on my stereo. You sent me an audacious email, flirting with me simply on the basis of my username, and recklessly, I replied.

In retrospect, I suspect you were doing a lot of that sort of thing, because as I was to learn before too long, you were horny, and had gone for a long time without any sexual contact. We warily sized each other up via email, discussing jazz, William Faulkner, and French Impressionism, then progressed to online chatting, and within weeks we were having ferocious cyber- and/or phone sex several times a day, calling each other up at 3 AM, emailing provocative photos, sometimes hardly sleeping at all for days at time.

Of course, I was in Europe, so the idea of having sex with you in person was logistically awkward. When springtime came and I finally learned I was being transferred back to the states, you told me you were now in a committed relationship. Reading between the lines, I got the distinct impression that the sex was a bit pedestrian, but of course, relationships are built on more than just sex. So, I let you alone. I was to be living 1000 miles to the west of you anyway, instead of across the Atlantic.

But then no one told me that just a few months later I would be sent by my employer on a business trip to the very city where you worked as a librarian. I had the afternoon free, and I figured that it wouldn't hurt to drop in and say hello, so I google-mapped the library, got in my rental car, and set out to give you what I assumed would be a pleasant surprise.

I parked the car and began walking across the lot to the library. It was humid, east-coast humid, making me feel like I was sealed in a cocoon of warm air. It was the kind of weather where the mere act of opening the door to your air-conditioned rental car causes you to break out in a sweat. But every now and then there was the encouraging nip of a breeze coming from the Atlantic coast a few miles away, and rain was in the forecast.

Feeling just a bit nervous and dizzy from the heat, I entered the library. It was cool inside, and I strolled around, getting my bearings, until I saw you sitting behind the reference desk. You spotted me immediately, and if I'm not mistaken, you blushed. I was surprised that you could recognize me, having only seen photos. I found it hard to read your expression from across the room. It looked like you smiled, but I couldn't be sure. Perhaps it was a mixture of responses. At any rate, I made my way, a little sheepishly, to your desk.

"Hello, Andre," you said. "It is you, right?" You were definitely not smiling now. "This is unexpected."

"Hi, Sally," I replied. "I didn't know until this morning that I would be in the neighborhood. I thought I'd surprise you."

"Well, you succeeded in doing that." Here you glared at me, to make sure I got the point. "I told you I had a boyfriend, right?"

"Sure," I said, smiling sincerely. "But I'm not the jealous type."

"Funny," you replied, not laughing. You looked at your fingernails for a minute and said, "Look, we can't talk here. And it's almost time to close. We can talk for a couple of minutes upstairs. There's a conference room." Abruptly you rose from your chair and headed for the staircase.

I followed, watching your ass move beneath your grey skirt as we ascended the stairs. You were wearing one of those severe librarian's outfits, a long-sleeved white blouse with a bit of frill, buttoned up to the collarbone, and black shoes with moderate heels. Suddenly I was hard. I wasn't sure what I really had in mind, back when I decided to drop in you. Now my heart was racing, and I must have been having a flashback to all of those long-distance encounters, when the sound of the phone ringing would almost make me cum in my pants. Being in physical proximity brought back all the memories, with an added dollop of lust. Somehow in my fantasies I had never gotten around to imagining what you might look like, from behind, climbing stairs. Your legs looked great from where I was; I only wished that your skirt had been a little shorter. And the motion of your hips was mesmerizing. I was hoping against hope that you remembered all those hot phone sessions as vividly as I did.

As we reach the top of the stairs and entered the conference room, you turned and said to me with an exasperated tone, "Why on earth would you come to where I work?" I wasn't prepared to answer that just then. I didn't think that a discussion would be to my advantage. Instead, I pushed the door shut with my foot as I leaned over to kiss you.

I remember how quickly you pulled away, and how sternly you said, "Forget it, it's totally inappropriate." But I really couldn't help myself. Somehow I had lost all sense of propriety. I seized your shoulders and kissed you hard, again, as you struggled against me and pressed your lips together primly. Somehow I managed to catch one of your hands and press it against my crotch, so that you could feel the hardness of my cock through my slacks. I heard you catch your breath and you froze for a moment, and I knew that I had your attention, so I pressed my advantage. I repositioned your hand so that you could grasp my cock through my pants, which you did, simultaneously relaxing your lips so that the tips of our tongues came into contact. I was all the more excited, but then you fought to regain your self-control, breaking away from the kiss and hissing, "we can't possibly do this here." I only moaned in response, and escalated. My pants had no belt, only an elastic waistband, and in one quick motion I pulled them down, along with my briefs, exposing my erect cock. You stared at it, transfixed, and muttered, "Oh my god, it's so big." I stepped toward you again, and you could not help but reach out and seize it, causing me to quake with pleasure. You stared silently at my cock, and I heard you swallow. I pulled your face toward mine and kissed you again, and this time your kiss was willing and open, your tongue gliding over mine as you took my cock in both hands.

At this point, you broke off the kiss again, and gave me a penetrating gaze. "Damn you," you whispered, "wait a minute," and then ran to close the blinds and lock the door, as I stood there with my pants down to my knees. You hurried back to me and put your hands right back on my cock, offering your mouth to me for another lingering kiss. Your tongue slid into my mouth as your hands worked slowly up and down my shaft. Then you guided me to a nearby armchair where you sat me down, knelt in front of me and ran your hands tantalizingly over my cock. You slowly lowered your head and began to engulf it with your hungry mouth. You bobbed up and down, and then broke free, looking at me imploringly and saying, "You can cum in my mouth."

I nodded mutely and you began once again to suck me, while kneading your breasts through your blouse. You stopped for a moment and hurriedly unbuttoned your blouse. I was impressed by how fast and nimbly your fingers worked. Next you unhooked your flimsy brassiere, which had a clasp in the front. You knelt there for a moment with your eyes closed, making little whimpering sounds and pinching your nipples. I reached down and stroked my cock a few times just as you opened your eyes, and seeing the excitement on your face, I stroked it some more.

You were really beside yourself, watching me masturbate. Your eyes were like saucers, and your fingers on your nipples grew more and more agitated. Finally you bent forward and captured my cock between your breasts, moving them up and down as my hips began to buck involuntarily. Surrendering to desire, you rubbed my cock and balls all over your face, then against your nipples, and then you swallowed it deep again. I almost came right then and there. You caught me between your breasts again, and began to tit-fuck me with the greatest urgency, while growling in a low, husky voice, "I'm desperate for your cock. I want to taste your cum. I want you to cum on my face. I want you to cum on my tits..." There was something in the tone of your voice that transported me to new heights of intense excitement; I was groaning with pleasure.

Then the phone rang. "Damn!" you muttered, and scurried over to the phone. I remember you saying a few things to the party on the other side of the call; I was so heated up that it really didn't register. But then you came back to me and said, "We've got to get out of here. The library staff is going to meet in this room." You dressed hurriedly, pausing only to hiss at me, "Come on, pull your pants up. We're leaving." I noticed that you said "we," which I found encouraging, even though I was maddened by frustration at having to stop just short of climax.

You opened the blinds again, and in a minute or two we were on our way out of the building. It was raining hard, warm rain. You had an umbrella which we shared, as you led me to your Mitsubishi. I moved toward the passenger's side, but you stopped me, handed me the keys, kept the umbrella, and said, "No, you drive."

"Where are we going?" I asked.

"I don't care," you replied, "but we need to get out of this lot." The rain was coming down with a steady roar. The car felt like a steam bath. I turned on the ignition, hunted for the lever to turn on the windshield wipers, put them on full speed, and drove out onto the street. I then turned right on a side street lined with large trees. To the right was some sort of industrial park.

"You think anyone can see into the car with all this rain?" you asked.

"I doubt it," I said.

"Good." And then you unbuttoned the front of your skirt. "Damn you, you've got me so horny," you said, flinging your legs akimbo. I looked over as you began to stroke yourself through your panties. I slowed down a bit, wanting to watch, but not wanting to collide with anything in the bad weather. You looked sharply at me. "Just park the car. Under those trees."

I complied, and as the car rolled to a stop, you lifted your behind and stripped off your panties, and then, with a deadpan look, you reached over and rubbed them against my face. They were good and wet, and I caught them with my lips and sucked at the pussy juice. You let me have them as you returned to the task of masturbating. Your face was a mask of concentration. I strained my eyes to watch as you very deliberately ran your fingers up and down your slit, and then inside and then around your clit. The light inside the car, with the rainclouds overhead, was none too good. I yearned to see that special spot which had played a starring role in so many delicous fantasies, and I yearned to see it up close. You were breathing hard.

I climbed into the back seat and said, "Come back here with me." You looked annoyed at being interrupted, but then you grumbled under your breath and climbed back. I had laid on my back. "Sit on my face," I said.

Without saying a word you undid your belt, stripped off your skirt, and straddled my mouth. Your thighs were slick with rain or sweat or pussy juice, it was difficult to say. I couldn't really see your pussy, but I could smell it, and I was so hungry for you at that point that I just seized you by the hips and began to devour you. Almost immediately you were moaning and bucking your hips, rubbing your pussy voluptuously against my face. I heard the mounting urgency in your voice, and within a minute your were cumming loudly.

You didn't even pause to take a breath, but clambered awkwardly around in the confined space of the back seat until you were in the 69 position. "Come on, lift your butt," you commanded, and I did as you asked, even as I was adjusting my neck so that I could suck your pussy again. I felt you pull my pants to my knees, and once more my cock was swallowed by the welcoming wetness of your mouth.

The cramped space of the back seat made me feel a bit claustrophobic, even as my senses were assaulted by the twin pleasures of your mouth on my cock, and your pussy on my mouth. "Wait a minute," I attempted to say, but my words were muffled by your crotch grinding against my face. I tried again, and this time managed to get the words out.

"What?" you demanded, with a tone of agitated annoyance.

"Let's get out of the car," I said.

"Are you insane?" you countered.

"No. It's raining like hell out there, no one is around, and they couldn't see us if they were."

Without answering, you took my cock once again into your throat, and I was content to revel in the pleasure, while plunging my tongue again into your pussy. After a minute or so of this, you paused and said, "All right."

We clambered out of the back seat into the rain, and what little clothing we had on was instantly drenched. The car was between us and the road, and there were trees and bushes surrounding us. I looked around, and was satisfied that anyone crazy enough to be walking around outside would be unable to see us. I seized you by the shoulders and kissed you hard -- you kissed me hard right back. Then I turned you around and had you lean against the car, while I stood behind you and teased your pussy lips with my cockhead.

"Come on," you said insistently, practically shouting to be heard over the rain. "Put it in!"

I put just a little of it in. You strained your hips upward, trying to get more. I reached forward and around you, and began to play with your nipples, which were jutting out against the drenched fabric of your blouse and bra. I allowed my cock to work it's way just an inch or so more into your pussy, and I began to move it tantalizing in and out. You groaned and tried to push against me, but I backed away, just a little.

Then you gave a sort of roar of frustration and broke free from me. You spun around, sank to your knees on the muddy ground, and swallowed my cock to the hilt. I cried out in pleasure as you fucked me with your mouth. Then you stopped, glared up at me and hollered over the roar of the rainfall, "Are you ready to fuck me properly?"

"Yes," was all I could say.

You re-assumed your position against the car, and I hurried to drive my cock back into your cunt, all the way this time. You began to cum almost immediately, and I kept slamming into you until you came a second time. Then I slowed way down, making sure that each thrust of my cock went as far into your pussy as it could possibly go. You began to tremble, groaning breathlessly about how you loved my big cock, and how it tasted so good, and you kept that up until your voice just broke into a wail and your whole body shook. Then you broke free again, turned around, pulled my face to within inches of yours, and stared into my eyes. "I want you to cum in my mouth," you said.

"Ever do anything like this with your boyfriend?" I inquired.

"Shut up," you said.

Once again you fell to your knees, engulfing my cock with your mouth. I was loving it as you methodically took me all the way in, over and over, and I was right on the edge of cumming, but I couldn't quite get there. "Wait a minute," I said.

You looked up at me with an urgent and hungry look. "What?"

"Let's get back in the car."


"I need to taste your cunt. It will make me cum."

You rose to your feet, with the suggestion of a smile playing about your lips. Or maybe it was a smirk. You asked, "Does it taste as good as you imagined?"

In all honesty I replied, "Better."

You paused, and looked at me with satisfaction. "OK," you said. "Let's both cum."

I got in first, and lay on my back. You backed into position, and stopped with your pussy just short of my face. You reached back and massaged your clit sensuously, just out of reach of my tongue. "Oh god," I cried, "let me taste it." I heard you snicker. Then you slowly lowered your swollen and sopping cunt to my face, simultaneous swallowing my cock to the hilt.

I'd never been more excited in my life. I open my mouth as wide as I could, sucking as much of your cunt as would fit as I swirled my tongue around your clit. Right away you began to cum again, gushers of pussy juice bathing my face, and I began to spurt over and over into your mouth as you cried out in pleasure.

What, that's not how you remember it?

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