Tongue-Tied

"Thank you. Can we take off these masks now?"

"Yes, let's."

They looked out at the pond and removed their masks. Then they turned to again face each other.

Renata's heart rate about bottomed out. She looked at his handsome, young face, and it looked familiar. The light brown hair, the blue eyes, the high cheekbones, the prominent jaw, the winning smile.

"Dylan?" she croaked.

"Miss Renata?" he said.

Oh God, it's him. It had been years since she'd seen him. He'd been sent off to boarding school before the sixth grade and she'd only seen him once or twice since, and that was like what, eight or nine years ago? A chill ran through Renata's body. This young man sitting next to her, the guy with the magic tongue, who had already fucked her six ways from Sunday and sent her to a carnal paradise she'd never been to before and never knew existed, was Leah's and Luke's twenty year-old son.

"Oh My God! What have I done?" Renata cried, with a look of fear on her face.

"What do you mean?" Dylan asked.

"You must think I'm some kind of slut."

"I do not. I think you're beautiful, and sexy, and a hell of a dancer, too."

"Oh please. A married woman going off with a young man half my age at that party? I don't know what came over me. Really, I never did anything like that before. It's just..."

"What?"

"I was upset. I found out my husband had been unfaithful. I was angry and vengeful. I went a little crazy, I guess." She looked at him with leaky eyes. "Your mother would kill me if she knew what we've done."

"Hell, she'd kill me too, probably," he said. "Not to mention your husband." He gently rubbed her ring finger between his thumb and forefinger, where her ring had been, letting her know he noticed. "I'm glad about one thing, though."

"Yeah, what's that?"

Dylan took her hand into his and held it. "I'm glad you went a little crazy. We both did. And it was good. And here we are."

"Oh, I don't know, Dylan. This changes things."

"Why Miss, uh Renata. And how?"

"Your mother is an old friend of mine. I'm old enough to be your mother!"

"So what. Age didn't matter when I was the Lone Ranger. But it does now?"

"It's not that. It's just, it complicates things."

"Look, Renata. Think about this for a minute. Think about why we are here, sitting on this bench right now. Think about what happened between us, and how incredible it was. And the effort you put out to find me. Why did you do that? And I responded, I was excited as hell when I saw your post. Why did I do that? And we arranged this meeting, to see each other again, and take our masks off, and be together again, and here we are. Why did we do that?"

"I know," she said, but she was shaking her head.

"We did all that because we both wanted it to happen again. We don't want it to be over. Because it was special and we both know it. Don't run away again."

"I don't know," she said. She pulled her hand out of his and picked up her headpiece from the bench seat. "I have to think. I'm sorry, Dylan."

She stood up, then he did too. She kissed him daintily on his cheek, not wanting to risk seduction by tongue. They walked to the cars.

"You have my number," Dylan said.

She got in behind the wheel.

"You smell great, by the way," he said. "It turned me on the first time, and it's turning me on now."

"Thank you," she said, happy that he noticed. She started the car and drove away.

He knew that he would be hearing from her.

--

Dylan thought about following her, but didn't want to freak her out. He thought he'd text her later just to say good night, or something like that. To put her at ease, and to show her he cared and wanted to see her again. He now had no plans for the rest of the day, but he would keep his cellphone handy. He wanted her.

Renata was all wound up and confused. She felt silly that she'd gone to the trouble to find and connect with a twenty year-old boy, embarrassed that the boy was her friend's son, and disappointed that they wouldn't be continuing what they'd started in the music room. Her highest hope had been that she and her mystery man would meet at the bench, hit it off in a hurry and end up in bed.

Within ten minutes she regretted running off again. Ten minutes after that she thought it was for the best. She'd love to have that boy's tongue deep into all her holes again, and come again like she'd come before, but wasn't her life fucked up enough right now? Pissed at her husband and pissed at Leah, her marriage and a friendship possibly coming to bitter ends. Did she really need to be fucking Leah's son too, and adding that to the mix?

She kept a gym bag with workout clothes in the trunk of her car. She needed to burn off some energy and the stress she was feeling. She drove to the health club and rode an exercise bike like a madwoman for nearly an hour. The whole time riding she thought about Dylan, the pros and cons, and relived what had happened between them for the umpteenth time. She pedaled as hard as she could, in a trance, and streams of sweat flowed on her forehead, face, neck and arms. The sweat burned her eyes, so she closed them, and saw Dylan's tongue, the dirty enchantment of it, the slippery maneuvers of it in her mouth, her throat, her pussy, her ass, and she pedaled harder still until, without warning her body convulsed, her legs jellified and slowed, and she came.

Cold goose flesh covered her sweaty arms. She shivered uncontrollably as her pussy released, and held on tight to the handlebars so she didn't fall off the bike. Her orgasm was a detonation on the same scale of the ones she'd had with Dylan. And this time just thinking about that tongue had done it. Her cum blew out of her, soaking her gray workout pants. There was a wet stain the size of a cantaloupe in the crotch of her pants, which were attached like cellophane to her soppy cameltoe.

Fortunately, the club was almost empty, so after wiping down the machine she held her towel in front of her and walked to the locker room. She took a long shower and scoured herself clean while thinking about her bike ride and its volcanic conclusion, about Dylan, about herself, about Dylan and her together, and she now knew the pros outnumbered the cons.

She got home around six and uncorked a bottle of white wine. Clean as a whistle and horny as hell. She wasn't really hungry but she knew she should eat, so she chopped up some celery, carrots and cukes, added some stuffed olives and put together a veggie tray. She was careful with the knife as she worked because her mind was elsewhere. It was on Dylan. She wanted him.

Renata picked up the tray, her wineglass and the burner phone and carried them into the living room and set them on the coffee table in front of the sectional sofa. She sat down and picked up the phone. She called Dylan and he picked right up.

"Hi, it's Renata."

"I know who it is."

"I'm sorry I ran off. I won't do it again."

"Again. Really?"

"I won't. I promise."

"Okay, that's good. Third time's a charm, huh?"

"Are you busy tonight?" Renata cringed when she asked.

"Nope. Been hoping you would call."

"Would you like to come over?" she asked.

He said yes, of course he would. She gave him the address and asked him his ETA. He said about an hour, is that okay? She said she'd be waiting. He said he couldn't wait, could he bring anything? Just yourself, she said, and they ended the call. Dylan wanted to get a shower and a change of clothes before he went over. Renata sprayed some more of the scent Dylan liked so much on her neck and shoulders, and a little between her thighs too, for when we went down there. She put on a cream-colored off-shoulder sweater dress-something that would come off easily-with nothing underneath but a thong. Then she put on some music and munched vegetables as she waited.

--

Renata heard footsteps outside, then the doorbell ring. She was excited as hell and scared to death. Excited about what was about to happen, and afraid of what she might be getting herself into. But she was ready for both.

She opened the door and let him in. He looked adorable, good enough to eat. She closed and locked the door and flipped off the porch light, an unsubtle signal that he wasn't leaving tonight. She turned to face him and Dylan immediately took her into his arms.

He wasn't holding back. His lips made a beeline for hers. Renata felt the size and strength of his tongue take over her mouth and sucked it in. She put her arms around him and dug her nails into his back. They kissed like they hadn't seen each other for years, not hours. He put his hands on her buttocks, pulled her as tight as he could and lifted her, feeling the soft pressure of her breasts against his chest. With a reflexive hop, Renata looped her legs around him and locked her ankles.

He backed her up so her back was to the wall, then pressed his body hard against hers. Their mouths were in overdrive, she could feel the drywall hard against the back of her head and his cock hard against her eager beaver. Pretty soon he was dry-humping her.

"Where's the bedroom?" he gasped.

"Down the hall," she said, with spittle on her chin. "Last door."

He put her down and picked her up, one arm behind her back, the other under her knees.

"No more doing it in a chair for us," he said, and carried her down the hallway.

There was a nightlight in the bedroom so he could see his way around. He laid her on the bed, kicked off his shoes and started unbuttoning his shirt. Renata sat up and started working on his pants. While she did that, he pulled her dress off over her head. Once naked, he fell on the bed, pulled her beside him, and continued what they'd started in the foyer.

They picked up where they'd left off, with a long mouth-pounding kiss. Dylan had one arm around her neck and his other hand roamed over her tits and stomach. Renata stroked his cock.

Soon Dylan's mouth headed south, covering her with kisses on her neck and shoulders and breasts, and teasing her stiff nipples with whisks from his titillated tongue. He did this for some time and Renata squirmed in response, her fingers interlocked in his hair. Then she brayed like a zebra when he sucked one of those chunky nipples into his mouth. Now her arms were flailing at her sides. His mouth went from nipple to nipple and back and forth, sucking like a starved infant.

Dylan wanted to pace himself, make it last. He backed off her titties and let his tongue do some walking. Over her breasts, her stomach, her belly button. He went lower, getting her hot with anticipation, before moving his head back up, gently kissing her neck, then her lips.

"Damn, you smell good," he said.

"God, Boy, if you only knew what you do to me."

"You're doing it to me, too."

"Can I tell you something?" she said. He nodded. "Today, after I left you, I was all mixed up. As soon as I left you, I was sorry I did. Then I wasn't sorry. I went back and forth. I was all keyed up. So I went to the gym to exercise, you know, work it off. I rode a bike harder than I ever had before. I rode for almost an hour, trying to make up my mind, thinking about you. About kissing you, and about what we did in that music room, and the feeling of your tongue inside me, and how spontaneous and beautiful and raunchy it all was. And I had an orgasm. A huge orgasm, just like the ones I had with you in the music room. Right there in the middle of the gym, which thankfully was pretty empty. I've never had orgasms like this before, Dylan."

"Wow. Thanks for telling me. I love a story with a happy ending. And I'm going to make a bold prediction, right now." He kissed the tip of her nose.

"Oh yeah? What's that?" Renata asked, chuckling.

"Your next orgasm is going to be in my face."

"Oh, bless you," she laughed. But she wasn't laughing for long.

"Damn, you smell good," he said, as he whipped off her thong and threw it aside. Then he buried his face in her snatch.

Feeling his wiggly tongue worm into her pussy made her squeal like she'd been jabbed with a hot poker. There it was again, snaking around inside her, touching every nook, every pore, every animal inch of her, turning her twat into pudding. Her body twitched impulsively, it felt too good, she loved it, craved it, but almost couldn't stand it and wanted to come, come, just come now. She was pushing her cunt in his face at a fever pitch.

She was soon to come. Her cunt was a marshland, and hugged his tongue as it jetted inward and outward and she ground her mound into his face. As promised, his face was plastered to her crotch and his upper lip half-wrapped around her puffy clit when she unloaded. Renata shrieked, and shook, and moaned, unh, unh, unh, unh, as if pushing a baby out of her womb.

Dylan's tongue felt the flood first. He pulled back and let the ooze come forth, into his face, dripping onto his neck and the bed. Moments later, with her body still receding to a relaxed state, his body rose atop her. His cock was swollen and hard and stretched to its max, and he needed to put it to good use, and take advantage of her ravenous, saturated cunt. He slipped it in with zero resistance, like hot knife into cream cheese. And he fucked her, slammed his groin into hers, banged her over and over and they grunted in harmony, until his seed raced into her.

He collapsed on the bed beside her, held her, kissed her. They basked in the afterstink of hard love.

"Oh, God," she said, after a few minutes.

"Wow," he said.

"You drain me. And I'm hungry. Are you?"

"Yup."

"Let's go find something to eat."

Dylan put on his pants and Renata threw on a robe. They went to the kitchen to whip up some food.

--

"You really screwed up, Owen," Leah said.

"I know," he said.

It was early Saturday evening. Leah and Owen were seated at a table in the back of an out-of-the-way tavern where they had met for drinks to discuss their sticky situation. Luke was away with some pals for a golf weekend.

"After all this time. How did it happen?" she asked.

"Remember that time we were at the beach and that jumbo jet flew over really low, directly above us?"

"Of course."

"Well, Renata and I were watching this movie on TV. And in this movie, a couple was fucking on the beach and this plane flies over them, really low, buzzing them and shit, not a big jet, but a small plane. And it triggered the memory of us, and I don't know, I had a brain fart. I just remembered it and said without thinking, hey remember that time we were on the beach and the 747 flew over and scared the shit out of us? It was that quick. I was hoping she'd missed it, or would let it go, but she didn't, she caught right on. I tried to bluff my way out of it but I was too late, she wasn't buying it.

"Does she think that was the only time?"

"She knows it went on for a while."

"No, I mean does she think that affair was the only one and it was over after that?"

That's what I told her, but she didn't buy it. She's suspicious."

"Oh, great."

"She's not dumb, Leah. I slipped up on this, yes. But she doesn't have any proof of what's happened since then."

"You mean until you slip up again?" she said. "Do you realize what might happen if Luke found out? She's pissed! She could tell him and hell, we all could be headed for divorce."

"I'm sorry. Believe me."

"You have any idea when she'll be ready to talk to you again? Or me?"

"No. Not anytime soon, I don't think."

They talked over two drinks but didn't resolve anything. They knew they had a mess on their hands. When they left the place, Owen tried to hold her and kiss her goodbye but Leah wasn't having it. "Not a good time," she'd said.

A little later Owen drove slowly past his house. It was Saturday night and he was curious. He saw a small pickup parked in the driveway and his heart sank. He wondered who owned that truck and if he was in there fucking his wife.

--

Renata and Dylan ate grilled cheese sandwiches and the veggies, and drank the wine. The quick meal sated their appetite for food, but not for each other. Back in the bedroom, he had barely gotten his pants down before she had his cock in her mouth.

Dylan liked that. The last thing they had done before eating was fuck. And now she was sucking it, right after it had been inside her. The girls he'd been with, younger of course, wouldn't do that. Maybe it's a maturity thing, he didn't know, but it was a definite turn-on. He thought back to their time in the music room, the way he'd held her head, fucked her mouth and throat. He did it again, gave it his all, and she took it, sucked it, throated it. He swung it into her, not lightly. He felt her fingernails digging into the crack of his ass as he pumped her face. He always thought his mother's friend was attractive, but he'd never imagined she could suck cock like this.

He was balls to lips when he came. He groaned like a jilted croc when he released. She backed off some and he felt a short drag of teeth along the bottom of his shaft, helping it along. Six spasms later he shot the last of his cum into her mouth. They collapsed on the bed.

They kissed, their tongues played in the remnants of his cum. Her robe was still loosely tied so he opened it, ran his fingers gently over her upper body: her arms and shoulders, her neck and stomach, her breasts and bulging nipples. He kissed her neck, her ear, her breast.

They rested briefly. "Is there anything I can do? That you want?" he asked.

Her eyes bore into his in the dim light. Nothing was said for a long moment as Renata weighed her answer.

"Yes," she finally said, licking her lips. "My ass. Could you do that again? What you did before?"

He kissed her lips and told her to sit up. He opened her robe and she wiggled out of it

"Roll over," he said. "On your belly."

Dylan stared at that perfect ass. He kissed it all over and traced his tongue along her crack. Renata oohed with delight. He spread her cheeks and licked her rim, and she leaned her butt into his face. When he finally jammed his tongue into her asshole she almost screamed, and he plunged it in over and over. He fucked her ass with his tongue for a few minutes until she squirted onto the bed, creating a puddle that they would cover with a bath towel before they fell asleep.

They slept like rocks. In the morning they woke with smiles, and did most everything again, plus Renata got Dylan's dick up her ass for the first time. Before he left her house, she made sure he had her real phone number. She wouldn't need to hide behind the burner phone any longer.

--

Their affair was in full swing after that night. They quickly eased into a twice-weekly arrangement, usually Tuesdays and Fridays. Tuesday evenings they'd go around the world for a couple hours, then Dylan would leave. They both had to go to work Wednesday morning. But Fridays would be a sleepover, and Renata would get a double dose, in the evening and then again in the morning. She was usually sore for a day or two after Saturday morning. This went on for weeks.

Renata told herself it was crazy. She wrestled with the whole idea of it. She thought, I'm screwing a kid half my age, I'm old enough to be his mother, I was in college when he was born, there's no future in it, what the hell am I doing, but it was no use. It was magic in bed, so what the hell. She'd never had sex like this, never ever before had she used her body so athletically in a quest for pleasure. How could she? She never knew it was possible.

She hadn't had much contact with Owen, though he'd called her a number of times. He wanted to reconcile but she just put him off. She didn't miss him, in fact she was pretty sure she didn't want him back. What she wanted was what she now had, the intense, volcanic, multiple orgasms she was enjoying, orgasms like she never knew could happen.