Sweet Lover

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A reminiscence.
829 words
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When we met, although she was a younger woman it was clear she was sexually experienced. The relationship that developed between us was of a kind that I had never contemplated. In truth, when I was younger myself, about her age, I had not managed my intimate relationships well, often getting confused and upset. I would meet women who attracted me and just assume it couldn't work out, not really believing it possible that they could want me. It was not that I didn't have lovers, just that I felt unworthy, and messed things up.

At the time I met beautiful-dark-eyes I was 30, and she was 19 years old. She'd seen a glimpse of desire in my eyes when I first saw her I guess, and so she decided to press the issue. I waited for a sign that this wasn't right, an indication that whatever I was feeling was a fantasy, a projection, and that reality was waiting for me around the corner, but there was no stopping her advances, and very quickly I just felt it was too good not to be true.

Stepping back to seeing her first, she turned up on a job site. I was running the show, and down-time was often spent chatting. Sometimes friends of myself or the crew dropped in and hung out for a bit, that was normal, and slowly she appeared more and more often. She wore tight jeans, had a bubble butt, long dark hair, and one crocked tooth that only accentuated the beauty of her face. Eventually she turned up when there wasn't anyone else around, after talking a while she sidled up to me and started kissing me on the mouth, just little pecks at first, testing the water, and then deep passionate kisses. Once we got a taste for each other there was no going back.

Her figure was perfect, a fine line of thin wispy hairs led from her belly button to her full bush. Her arse was round and just the right amount of soft, and her breasts were full and firm with dark nipples. She tried to pretend she didn't know what she was doing the first time she sucked me off, but there was no hiding the skill of her experienced mouth. Her warm wet tongue undulated under my member, urged my cum, and she would swallow every drop hungrily. We slept together every night and never tired of each others company; there was a mutual love of the pleasure we experienced together. To this day it remains some of the best sex I've had in my life.

On one occasion, after time away, I had been visiting friends, in a building next to her apartment building, and on looking out the window saw that she was in her bedroom with the curtains pulled, and that the curtains were see-through. She was naked from the waist up and walking around the room, folding and putting away clothes. I watched for a while and the sent her a message. I watched her pick up the phone and smile. I left my friend's place at a gallop, hiding a growing erection, and raced next door. 30 seconds in the door I was pulling her jeans off and was eating her out. Then, my face covered in her pleasure, I french kissed her and fucked her bushy wet pussy, eventually pulling out and cumming over her breasts. We never cleaned up after sex, just lay in a clinch, sticky and happy.

She liked to wear make-up, and she liked crop tops and pretty pink dresses and tight jeans. Sometimes she'd show up at my workshop with a Chuppa-chup in her mouth and her breath would be sweet and her kisses sticky. Gradually I became aware that I was playing a role. Men  and boys alike lusted after her and she enjoyed the power of her sexuality. I was besotted and didn't even think to feel jealous, but slowly I did become protective. I was becoming a daddy to this buxom sweetheart, and I loved every minute of the intense relationship. But eventually our intimacy was tinged for me with the sadness of knowing that I would have to let go. The knowledge that even-though she was committed, and we were strongly attached to one another, I was somehow trespassing because everything she would go through and learn from over the next few years was behind me, and that she needed to face that piece of life on her own terms. And so, one day, I let her go; it was like having my heart torn out, but I pushed her away.

After that she turned up occasionally for hugs and kisses, not often more. Sometimes she smelt of sex and mania, and one time I could taste another man's semen on her tongue. And then I moved away, leaving her to act out her role without me, and moving myself onto other experiences.

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AnonymousAnonymous7 months ago

I have lived your story, nearly exactly. Ultimately discovered a peace of my own reading your observation that everything she learned from you was behind you and she needed to be released to create her own experiences - like yours,

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