The Mending of Broken Hearts

And so he waited.

* * *

He broke away from her suddenly, pushing himself away to stand before her, and his whole body seemed to tremble as he stood before her. For the briefest instant Andrea wondered what had happened, what she had done wrong, but when he did not move she realized with some surprise the she knew what he was doing: this was her last opportunity to back out. The fact that the out was offered, however, only made her want to fuck him more.

They stared at each other for a long moment then, two masked characters with no knowledge of what the other looked like beyond their two excellent physiques, but Andrea could not wait any longer and shifted her stance ever-so-slightly to beckon him forth.

He wasted no time and stepped forward against her.

Her eyes widened as his hands took hold of her thighs. His fingers moved once more, hands in tandem as they swept higher towards the cleft between her legs, and another groan escaped her lips. But it seemed there was more that he wanted to do before the fucking began: he yanked his hands away and spun her around, and before she knew what was happening her body was hunched over the washing machine, her breasts squashed against the surface, his weight bearing down on her from behind.

She struggled against him again for only a moment before submitting, defeated and disposed. She was his, utterly and entirely. Her spandex was black and very tight, but did not restrict him in the slightest as he yanked it down her legs, baring her completely.

She heard him gasp at the sight of her exposed bottom and the thought of him ogling her thrilled her, and a fresh wave of pleasure seemed to touch every nerve in her body as his fingers dug into the flesh of her cheeks. She was ready, ready for whatever the hot-bodied man who controlled her would do, and ready to love every second of it.

* * *

The ass in his hands was absolutely exquisite. The flesh was taut and smooth with just the littlest bit of grip to it, just enough for handfuls, and round and luscious and apple-shaped. Mike Gregory was an ass man, pure and simple, and this one was majestic, and in the deep corners of his mind, a little voice he was trying to avoid compared the ass in front of him to Hayden's.

And for the first time ever, Hayden lost.

Mike massaged the woman's rump, reveling in its roundness, testing its firmness, before he dropped to a squat behind her and nibbled on the back of her thigh. She moaned as he licked and nibbled his way higher up her leg, which trembled with little spasms of pleasure.

No more waiting, Mike decided at that moment.

His fingers took firm hold of her cheeks again and spread her ass wide, exposing wholly her glistening pink folds and the dark wrinkled hole just above them. It was one of his favorite sights in the world, but he did not linger on it long: his tongue plunged into her.

The woman squealed in shock and bucked her bottom harder back into his face, which only drove his tongue in deeper. Mike lapped at the puffy pink lips of her pussy, relishing the heat and juicy wetness he found there, his nose nestled snugly against her anus. He licked and tasted and teased as her hips began to move, and she ground her ass against his face. He quickly found her swollen clitoris and flicked it with the tip of his tongue, then wrapped his lips around it and suckled, and the woman squealed again as pleasure spasms brutalized her entire body.

He spread the cheeks of her ass further then and squeezed them, hard, and without warning went higher to assault the wrinkled pink plot above her pussy, and she moaned again (the sound this time deeper and more dramatic) as his tongue flittered over her asshole, swirling and tasting in time with the grinding of her hips.

And then he stuck his tongue up her ass.

* * *

Andrea screamed as the tongue of the man pierced her ass.

She could not believe the things she was letting him do and she could not believe the way she was acting, but most of all she could not believe how powerfully her body was responding to the sensations being wrought upon her.

The man was eating her ass . . . and Andrea was loving it.

She was ready, so very ready to feel his cock inside her, desire burning through her like never before. She did not care who he was or what he looked like, she only cared about the pleasure he was bringing her. She was using him and she did not care, because it was clear he was using her right back.

The truth was simple: she wanted his cock.

* * *

As much as Mike loved feasting on the ass of a beautiful woman, he enjoyed another thing just a little bit more and the woman was primed and ready for the final step.

He thrust his tongue as deep inside her anus as it would go, eliciting yet another squeal, then withdrew and rose to his feet. Her hips wiggled at him, begging for more, and she whimpered from the loss of his tongue. He slapped her right ass cheek, hard.

"What do you want?" he whispered in a gruff voice.

"Fuck me," came the muffled reply, followed by, "if you think you can handle it."

He traced a finger down the sleek line of her back, the pale skin smooth and soft, coming to rest on the small of her back, his palm flat against her cool skin. She was breathing heavily, her back rising and falling. He reached forward and stroked the few strands of strawberry blonde hair peeking out from beneath the helmet.

And with his other hand he reached down and liberated his rock-hard and ready cock from his costume, tearing open the section in the front of his crotch, buttons flying.

Mike put his hand back between her shoulder blades and shoved her down onto the top of the washing machine, enjoying greatly the sight of her breasts as they bulged outward, the mounds of flesh squished to the side under the weight of her body. Her ass quivered with anticipation and she gasped out loud once more.

"Not much I can't handle," he told her and then guided his cock between her thighs.

He could feel the heat from between her legs and raised the head of his cock to brush ever-so-gently against the pink folds, filling the space between them with the length of his cock, and her breath caught in her throat, waiting for the finish. Mike manipulated his cock, rubbing the engorged head back and forth across her clit, wedging the shaft between her lips, her juices trickling down over his testicles.

She pushed back against him again as much as she could, begging for what he was going to give her, pleading for it, her movements growing more and more frenzied as his mushroom crown pleasured her clitoris again and again. Her moans were coming together now in a long, low sound that seemed to come from the very depths of her and would have been incredibly loud but for the helmet muffling some of the sound.

It was time, he decided. Mike pressed his legs into hers and guided his cock between her lips again, finding her opening easily. He paused at the entrance and reached forward to stroke her hair again, then pulled her up onto her elbows so that her heavy breasts could jiggle and sway gently beneath her.

And then he pushed the head of his cock inside her.

Her pussy was tight and wet and the sheer heat of it surrounding his cock nearly toppled him over the edge. He trailed his hands down her back again and came to rest on her ass, and he spread her cheeks wide to watch as slowly, ever slowly, he fed his thickness, inch by solid inch, into her willing depths.

And the woman climaxed suddenly, a furious orgasm that froze the whole of her body for one endless moment as warm fluid washed over his cock and trickled down both of their thighs. She shivered violently and expelled a desperate breath before the long and wavering moan of pleasure that followed. Her back arched as she pushed up from her elbows as her arms straightened and locked at the elbows, her body going rigid, and she leaned back into him just as his cock bottomed out in her pussy and his waist nestled up against the pillows of her ass.

They paused then, immobilized in tandem by pleasure, savoring the sensation as the fierce muscles of her pussy clutched at his pulsating cock, wave after wave of debilitating pleasure.

They moaned as they began moving together again, his wet cock sliding past her wet folds again and again, in and out, in and out as her heavy breasts swayed beneath her in rhythm with his thrusts. Beads of sweat broke out over his skin, but offered little protection against the heat being generated as he penetrated her again and again and again.

The rhythm they developed surprised them both, as if they were familiar old lovers finding the perfect speed for fucking. She rocked forward as he withdrew, drawing his cock further and further out until only the tip remained nestled within, a position they held for the briefest moment before he plunged back in, burying himself completely, filling her, fucking her, only to withdraw once more to begin the process anew.

And so they rocked together, little whimpers and grunts and groans escaping their lips, and Mike looked down to watch himself slide into her, his thick cock glistening in the light, her tight little asshole winking up at him from its place just above the fuck zone.

Their pace quickened and her back arched even further, and Mike could not resist any longer: he released one of her luscious ass cheeks to clutch one of her equally luscious breasts where it swayed beneath her, kneading the pliant mounds and pinching the nipple. She was sweating now, too, gasping and moaning as her pussy constricted around his cock. The sound of his stomach and waist as it slapped up against the flesh of her ass as they plunged together combined with the soft cries and moans to form a beautiful symphony of sex as the two mysterious strangers fucked with reckless abandon.

The scene was incredible: two bodies sliding together in the darkness of the laundry room, sweat trickling down their skin, grunting, groaning, whimpering, his teeth clenched, her mouth open, his hips thrusting forward, her ass bucking back, his muscles straining, her heavy breasts jiggling, his cock splitting her folds as her depths welcomed him over and over and over, swallowing him, devouring him.

And then the end came and the two lovers came together, and the orgasm that ripped through Mike in that moment shattered the alcoholic haze and obliterated his every nerve ending, smashing through his body like an eighteen-wheeler through a chain-link fence. His knees buckled as he spurted what seemed to be the entire contents of his balls deep into the womb of the woman, filling her completely with hot sticky syrup.

And she screamed.

* * *

It was like someone had planted the nozzle of a fire hose in her pussy and flipped the release valve, and the sound that came from the depths of Andrea Tinsley then was unlike any she had ever made before.

Her head snapped back and her body quaked as an all-consuming and utterly irrepressible climax radiated from her core through the entirety of her being, overwhelming nerves and muscles and sinew and flesh and anything else in its path. The waves of pleasure would not relent and she rocked and quivered and shook uncontrollably, and for long moments she lost track of the world and her partner and everything around her before the tide receded, slowly and incrementally, until her limbs were a mess of inexorable trembles.

And for a moment, just a moment, Andrea blacked out.

* * *

The woman beneath him lost it completely, but Mike hardly noticed: he was dealing with the devastating pleasures of his own ebbing orgasm.

With his cock still inside her, pulsing, he sagged forward, pressing her harder into the top of the washing machine with his weight, and found that her body was already limp. The heat between them was so intense it practically rolled off them in waves and the sweat that began as beads was now a virtual stream across their bodies. She was hot beneath him, so incredibly warm and wonderful and soft, and Mike would have been happy to never need to move from that place.

And then she stirred, shifting under him, and he heard the slightest hint of a laugh from beneath the helmet, and he knew she was smiling as she said in that same muffled voice, "Oh my god."

Embarrassment slowly crept up within him: this was not the kind of thing he usually did and he had gotten a little rougher than he meant to. "Sorry," he whispered gently, and now he was certain she laughed.

"Sorry?" she repeated. "Don't be. I needed someone to fuck my brains out."

He grinned, though she could not see it. "No regrets," he said, and gently pulled his softening cock from her pussy.

She gasped, then whimpered, and the sounds were followed by a gush of fluid that quickly made its way down her legs, and she gasped again. He fumbled with the buttons of his costume as he tucked away his cock. The woman made no move to cover herself, which was fine by Mike: a few more minutes of ogling that magnificent ass certainly could not hurt.

The silence that followed, he reasoned, consisted of them both thinking the same thing: what now?

And then the woman was tugging at her spandex, pulling it up to cover herself, and straightening the rest of her clothes. They were both a mess, clearly, but he doubted anyone upstairs would notice beyond the people the two of them had come with.

"Escort me back?" she whispered, and suddenly her voice was softer.

"Of course," he said, whispering himself.

And when the reached the top of the stairs and passed through the doors to return to the music and the masses, they hugged each other once more, fiercely, the thought in both their minds that their illicit rendezvous would and could go no further, but knowing also that the experience had meant more to each than a mere one-night stand, and so their hug was a hug of gratitude as well as goodbye, and with that they went their separate ways.

* * *

And the party wound down in the wee hours of the morning, the alcohol spent and the music grown repetitive, and many guests paired up in search of unoccupied rooms in the house, while others paired up and departed, while still others departed as they had arrived (in groups, unattached).

And Mike Gregory and Andrea Tinsley were among the last of those groups, unattached and happy about it, and sharing a secret few others in the world would ever come to know.

And wholly unaware of the identity of the other.

Part Three: New Chapters

"You little slut."

The face of Janice Ledmeyer registered clearly her complete shock at what she had just been told, but the corners of her mouth twitching upward in a smile and the excited sparkle in her brown eyes spoke of less actual disapproval than her words and tone would suggest.

It was Monday and Andrea Tinsley was back at work, preparing her practice plan for the afternoon soccer practice at her desk in the athletic department. The football and basketball coaches had gone across campus in search of the cafeteria, leaving Janice and Andrea alone in the office for the first time that day. Andrea wasted little time, spilling the scoop on her incredible encounter with the hot-bodied mystery man two nights earlier.

Janice was the second and last person Andrea was likely to tell. Her sister knew, of course: Audrey had smelled the sex of her the moment they got into the car when leaving the party.

"You fucked someone!" her sister had practically screamed, her blue eyes wide and wondrous.

"Shhh!" Andrea had muttered fiercely as she hunched down in her seat, checking to see if anyone near them had heard. "Do you want the whole world to know?"

"Yes!" Audrey exclaimed.

And so before Audrey would take her home, before her crazy younger sister would even put the key into the ignition, Andrea had been forced to recount every intimate detail of the experience, which only got her fiercely turned on once again . . . and her sister, too, who was flushed and breathing heavily by the end of the story.

Interestingly enough, Janice had a very similar reaction: by the end of the tale (which Andrea had even edited considerably for decency's sake) her skin was noticeably rosy.

"Who was he?" Janice asked breathlessly.

Andrea shrugged. "I don't know," she admitted. "We never gave our names."

Janice threw up her hands. "You little slut!" she repeated. "I cannot believe you did that. It's the most unbelievable, dangerous, dirty, disgusting . . . FANTASTIC thing I've ever heard. Why does this kind of thing never happen to me?!"

Andrea only grinned.

"You're happy again," Janice said quietly after a long moment, changing the tenor of their conversation. "It took awhile, but you're happy again."

This was exactly the reason Andrea liked Janice so much: she always saw through to the heart of the situation and was not afraid to voice her observations, no matter how difficult or emotional.

And in that moment, hearing Janice say what she said, Andrea realized one incredible fact: in the two days since her sexual romp in the laundry room, she had not thought about Peter once.

* * *

Mike Gregory could not get the image of that beautiful ass out of his head.

At the time, the whole "no names, no regrets" thing had seemed a brilliant idea, but now that he was faced with the prospect of never handling that gorgeous rump again, and never knowing the name (not to mention face and smile) of the woman it belonged to, he was feeling very sorry for himself, kicking himself that he could not summon courage to ask for her name and number.

He sighed deeply.

"Ok, Mike?" a voice from nearby asked.

Mike had just gotten out of his car in the parking lot of West Mountain and turned to find the head groundskeeper of the school, Rock Alvarado, standing nearby. The man was hard at work battling some overgrown hedges.

"I'm good, Rock," he replied with a shake of his head, "just a little tired."

Rock grinned. "Too much fun last weekend, eh? Too much cerveza?"

"Something like that," Mike said with a smile.

The walk to the athletic department was of decent length, giving Mike a little more time to stay wrapped up in his thoughts. It had been one of the most intense sexual experiences of his life, almost like something out of a dream, but he would never know who she was and he would have to resign himself to that fact.

If there was any good news to come from the experience (besides his memories, of course, which would keep him busy for some time), it was that he knew now that he was finally and completely over Hayden; she no longer occupied the bulk of his thoughts. In fact, to be honest all he could think about (now that his rebound fuck with another woman had occurred) was getting back in the saddle for more sex, which is why there was a wide smile on his face all of a sudden despite his disappointment regarding the identity of his beautiful mystery woman.

The smile remained all the way into the athletic department office. He was scheduled to meet with the athletic director, Mister Kim, in thirty minutes, but had some dead time and figured he would see if Kim could meet early.

He pushed open the door and entered . . . and stopped.

There were two individuals in the office at the moment, two and only two: Janice Ledmeyer, the pretty brunette assistant to the athletic director, and Andrea Tinsley, whom Mike had not spoken to (and had avoided, to be quite honest) since the affair of their exes had been discovered.

The faces of the women went blank immediately and heavy silence hung in the room, and Mike decided right then and there that enough was enough: Andrea meant too much to him.

He smiled gently. "Hi, girls," he said.

Janice visibly relaxed, her smile returning. "Hi, Mike," she said. "It's good to see you. You haven't come around the office much this year, you know."