While We Were Apart

As she feels herself nearing orgasm, she removes her finger from her ass and inserts the vibrator, immediately turning it to its highest speed. Her hands fall to her sides, and then she grasps the undersides of her legs, pulling them up towards her. This, however, pulls the vibrator up and off the bed, and it begins to fall out. With one hand, she holds her legs around her knees; with the other, she presses the vibrator back into her ass and holds it there, pulling the base up against her lower lips.

She can now feel the vibrations, quite completely, at her swollen clit. She begins slowly to fuck herself with the vibrator, but decides that she can better concentrate on the feelings it is producing if she just holds it in. The vibrator has only been in her ass for about fifteen seconds now, but she feels the beginnings of another orgasm, emanating outward from her pussy, like a wave covering her body, over and over again; she feels her ass contracting against the vibrator, first at the designated eight-tenths of a second intervals (which, delightfully, seem to last for hours and hours), then more slowly, as she comes down from that one.

The real benefit of the vibrator, for her, however, is not its ability to make her come in a hurry, nor even the 'naughtiness' of the fact that it is usually at its best when buried in her ass. No, what drew her to it today was the fact that, with it, she has usually cum as many times as she wishes or can stand.

Of course, June is herself aware of none of this. She has entered that dreamy, delirious state after one orgasm and just prior to the next, and it has already started to grow within her, even before the other has had time to subside. In but a minute or so, she is cumming again, her legs jerking with the contractions of her stomach muscles, her mouth open and gasping, moaning, shouting, if only the shouts would emerge; her hand pressing the vibrator hard into her, the base stretching her sphincter, desperately holding it in her, desperate for it to continue.

After some five or six glorious minutes of this, June is exhausted. She withdraws the vibrator from her ass and lies, curled, on the bed, her body still quivering, her pussy jumping with the odd contraction here and there. Were it not so hot, she would perhaps just take a nap; in her present state, she is hardly good for anything else. But perhaps she should not; she would not manage to sleep anyway. So she rises, taking her little toy with her to wash it, and slips into a nice, cool bath.

3. An Old Friend

Sean arrived in New York at about 4pm, checked into the hotel, and tried to figure out what to do for the afternoon. The conference was to begin on Sunday morning, but he had come down early, spending Friday night with some relatives nearby. He was supposed to be phoning Dave and Cheryl at about 7pm, to go out to dinner, so that left him about three hours. It was, he figured, far too hot to wander the city, even if good buys on books might be found. And he certainly wasn't going to sit around in his hotel room. So he wandered down to the lobby to see if anyone else had arrived yet.

Before he knew it, it was half six, so he excused himself to go upstairs and shower. He was much looking forward to seeing Dave and Cheryl again, mostly Cheryl. He didn't know Dave very well, having only met him a few times, and he found him to be a nice enough guy. But Cheryl was a different story. He had known her since college, when they were very good friends, but the parts of their relationship he most remembered were later. When he was still living in New York, and June was living in Atlanta, that was when his relationship with Cheryl changed. They would spend many nights together, both of them distant from their respective partners, playing cards, Scrabble, what have you. But the really interesting part always occurred as they got down toward the bottom of the bottle of wine they shared on such evenings.

He hadn't meant to start thinking about how awful it had been to have to be away from June for all those months, but perhaps it wasn't surprising, given that, here he was, once again, away from June, and off to have dinner with Cheryl. How ironic. Oh, yes, and Dave. Mustn't forget about Dave.

As his mind had meandered through his past, Sean had somehow managed to get his clothes off, get into the shower, wash the grime and sweat off his body, and start drying off. He put on some relatively "nice" clothes, since he assumed they'd all be going somewhere nice tonight.

"Hello?"

"Hi, Cheryl, it's me. Just calling to see what the plans are."

"Well, things have actually changed a little bit."

"Oh?"

"One of the guys at the office got sick. Supposed to be goin' down to DC for some stupid meeting. Guess who gets to go instead?"

"Sorry to hear that," Sean said, though he doubted Cheryl would believe him.

"Yeah, well, Dave leaves you his best. Left an hour ago. Maybe he'll be back before you leave."

"What about tonight then?"

"Oh, same thing. We'll go out to dinner, if you still can."

Cheryl said she'd walk over and pick him up, because her apartment was actually quite close. The added irony could hardly escape Sean's notice. Not only was he here, away from June; not only would he be going out to dinner with Cheryl; but, amazingly enough, fate had called Dave to DC and it would be just the two of them.

They met downstairs about ten minutes later and walked to a nice Italian restaurant nearby. It had been almost three years since Sean had seen Cheryl, and she seemed different. Older, though not in a bad way. What had once been a cheerful, young face had become more sophisticated, and a little bit cynical. But she was as beautiful as she ever had been, maybe more so. As they ate dinner and caught up, he could not help but admire her. Things seemed very well for her, though she seemed to be a bit tense and distracted. He himself was feeling a little distracted, but her distraction seemed rather more serious.

"Cheryl, I don't mean to be intrusive, but is something bothering you? You seem a bit, well, I don't know, preoccupied." She didn't say anything. "It's OK if you don't want to talk about it."

"Well, actually, I do feel a bit...I don't know, nervous."

"What about?"

"Look, it's silly. Never mind."

"OK."

"Look, I'll just say it. When Dave got called away and I started thinking about you being here, it just started to seem really weird. I mean, the last time I saw you, really saw you, June was still in Atlanta, Dave was still in DC, and the two of us were hanging out in my old apartment. And here we are having dinner. June in Atlanta. Dave in DC. It makes me nervous."

"Thank God." Cheryl looked at him quizzically. "Even before I called you I was thinking about old times. And when you said Dave was gone, well, it sort of freaked me out."

"At least I'm not alone," she said, laughing, as she signed the credit card receipt. "You want to come back to my place? Just like old times?"

"Yeah. Sure. OK," Sean said, though he wasn't really sure.

When they got there, Cheryl pulled out a bottle of Lagavulin and poured them each a snifter. "To old times!" she toasted, clicking classes as they sat down on the couch.

"Just like old times," Sean said, "except for the lack of Scrabble."

"If we had a week, we could do Scrabble. Not tonight."

"No."

"But it really is nice to be back together again."

They paused and sat there, in silence, for a while. Sean thought, no knew, that they needed to talk, and he knew what about, but he was having trouble figuring out how.

"You know, Dave's a little jealous of you."

"Of me? Why?"

"Well, I once told him about those evenings we used to spend together."

"And that makes him jealous?" Sean was feeling distinctly uncomfortable.

"Sean, he isn't really jealous. You know what I mean. He teases me. It's like he thinks you and I were lovers or something."

"Well, maybe we were 'or something'."

"You're losing me."

"We weren't lovers. But I have never had a relationship like the one we had."

Cheryl sat there for a moment. That wasn't anything she didn't know, but it was something she hadn't really understood. She knew that, sometimes, she'd miss Sean in an odd sort of way. She'd think about the evenings they'd spent together, like she'd lost something special. And now it made a kind of sense to her.

"Yeah, we were 'or something', weren't we?" she said, laughing with a kind of relief.

"Absolutely. I think about you a lot, Cheryl. I miss those evenings."

"Me too, Sean," she smiled, shaking her head with a sort of amazement. "Me too."

They sat there for a few minutes, just looking at one another. Something each of them had lived for some time, alone, was finally out in the open between them. They had had an affair. An odd sort of affair, but an affair nonetheless. But that was then. The only thing left to do would be to reminisce about those nights. But that would be just to do it all again. Or to talk about what happened after those nights, and there was no telling where that might lead, probably to something both of them would regret. So, they let the subject gently pass, secure in their mutual understanding of what once had been.

"It's late, and I've got to be up in the morning," Sean finally said.

"Yeah, me too," Cheryl replied, stretching, as he stood up.

"Come here," he said, pulling her to her feet. He put his arms around her, pulling her head into his chest, and held her, lovingly, as if he was saying good-bye to an old lover, which was indeed how he thought of Cheryl now.

They turned, together, their arms around each other, and walked toward the door. "I love you very much, Cheryl," Sean said, as he turned to face her.

"I know, Sean. I love you, too."

"Have a good night."

"You, too, Sean. I'll talk to you soon," Cheryl said, as she opened the door and kissed Sean softly on the cheek. And then he was gone.

4. A Night Alone

Back at the hotel, Sean had no doubt he would have a nice rest of the evening. He had seen Cheryl steal a glance now and again at his groin, though he was making every effort to adjust his legs to hide the obvious. Cheryl's excitement was, of course, not quite so plain, but, reflecting on their past, he could distinctly recall many of the same signs he'd often wondered about: Her voice would deepen; her face would flush; she would cross her legs very tightly and, just every once in a while, rock to and fro.

His cock immediately sprang to life, as he suddenly realized what she'd been doing.

Sean was quite at a loss for what to do. What he felt like doing was fucking June silly, but that was obviously out of the question. Calling Cheryl and inviting her to have phone sex with him crossed his mind, as he was dead certain she was lying naked on her bed masturbating with the rabbit-eared vibrator she had once told him about. But that was not an option either; it was a fantasy. Nor did he want to lie on the bed and masturbate straightaway. He was much too excited for that: That would be like going to bed with June and coming in two minutes.

So he decided to get undressed, except for his underwear, put on his robe, and sit and fantasize for a while. But as he went to get his toothbrush and such from his suitcase, he had a burst of good fortune, discovering two of his and June's toys as well as a few packs of condoms and a near empty tube of lube. "So that's what happened to these ones," he thought to himself. They'd taken them on a trip and left them in the suitcase. How lucky. He got a towel and put it on the bed.

Sean lay down, and his fantasies switched to June. He loves to fantasize about June masturbating. It was especially when he was masturbating like this, for pure pleasure, that he loved to fantasize about June doing the same. So he imagined that it was she, not Cheryl, who had the rabbit-eared vibrator, and that June was lying on her back, rubbing it up and down her lovely pussy.

He slowly stroked his erect cock as he did so, the images flooding his mind, raising his level of excitement even higher. He slowly rubbed some of the lube onto his anus, enjoying the exquisite sensitivity of the soft skin. He rubbed some more of it onto the smaller and less powerful of the two vibrators. Sean himself was now almost shaking with excitement, and his body jumped as he eased the vibrator into himself. Slowly. Just a bit at a time. Letting himself adjust to it. With it in all the way, he lay back on the bed and turned it on. Just a little at first, letting the sensation of the vibrator buried in his ass, buzzing away, carry his thoughts. He was not fantasizing at all now, just concentrating on the sensations. He turned it up a bit. And a bit more.

He could feel the excitement rising within him, and the outward signs of what was happening within were starting to appear. Sean had always found it sort of odd that his cock actually goes rather soft at times like this; or, goes soft for a time, then hard, then soft again. The one constant, though, is the tremendous amount of precum that oozes from the tip of his cock, making a great puddle on his stomach. That had begun, and he had entered the stage (he knew not what to call it) at which he just floats.

Sean maneuvered the vibrator within his ass, trying to press it directly up against his prostate, to intensify the sensations. He could feel an orgasm nearby, but he never knew quite what to do to bring them on. But this time, it was going to work; he could feel it. It was right there. And suddenly, the contractions began, first a small one, then a larger one, then a fading series of them, the precum pouring out of his cock. He lay there, oblivious to all around him, enveloped by his first orgasm.

He began to move the vibrator in and out of his ass now, fucking himself with it. Fantasy returned, though not consciously. He was lost in pleasure, and would not have been able to start a fantasy himself. But an image entered his head, of June between his legs, her hand on the vibrator, thrusting it in and out of him. Slowly at first, then more quickly. Shallow, then more deeply. "Fuck me, June," he said.

"Please fuck me, baby," he said, quietly, over and over again.

He could feel another orgasm rising within him, and he began to fuck himself hard, plunging the vibrator in and out faster, bumping it against and over his prostate, grabbing his balls with his free hand, and pulling them up. His cock was now rigid again, and he could feel the vibrations there. Again, the contractions began, and he held the vibrator deep inside himself, collapsing back on the bed.

Having finally caught his breath, Sean reached for the other, rather larger vibrator. He quickly, desperately, coated it with lube, turned onto his stomach, and entered himself. This time, he immediately turned it up as fast as it would go and started fucking himself with it. He did not move it fast, but slowly and deeply, letting it slide in and out of him, almost taking it out and then re-inserting it each time. It slid over his prostate, gently, but with fierce vibrations, and he could feel his final orgasm approaching. Not often would he come, ejaculate, in this way, but he could sense it coming now. And, soon enough, he came into the towel, holding the vibrator hard against his prostate, the image of June behind him filling his mind.

Removing the vibrator, Sean lay there, sated. He meant to get up, clean himself off, and so forth. But he never made it. He just fell fast asleep.

5. Home Alone

June spent the rest of Saturday relaxing. Sunday morning, she had a long, luxurious bath, spent a bit of time in the garden, and sat outside, under a big shade tree, reading a relatively trashy novel. Nothing too strenuous: She has rather enough thinking to do during the week.

She missed Sean, even though he'd been gone but a couple of days, but she was also enjoying her time alone. It wasn't often that she would have the time just to sit and read. It wasn't, really, that she wouldn't have the time, but, somehow, she felt less inclined to do so when Sean was there. She preferred, most weekends, either to work on one of their projects together, go for a walk, drive out to see friends, or some such thing.

Sean, beautiful Sean. She was so accustomed to his being next to her that she could almost see his long, lean body out of the corner of her eye, his long hair flowing down over his shoulders. She wanted, she had already decided, to give him some kind of present when he came home, something unusual, something sexy. But what does a woman give to a man in such a situation? Men, she thought, have it easy: In all likelihood, Sean will come home clutching some naughty little garment he picked up in New York, a delicious little smirk on his face, saying "I brought you something". But things were not so easy for her.

She had always told Sean that she thought his gifts to her were as much for him as for her, so why not give him a gift of something for her? She'd never really shopped for lingerie for herself. Maybe it would be fun to go out and get something for herself for a change?

June hopped in the car and drove to the mall. While she was there, she figured, she might as well pick up some panties, too; she picked out about five pairs, all bikini-style, not-too-high on the leg, and with enough material around the sides that they don't dig into the hips. Two black pairs, two white, and one dark blue, to go with the dark blue camisole she'd seen on the way in. All of the panties had lace fronts, like the ones she'd been wearing the night before Sean left. The camisole itself was simple, satin all around, with just a hint of lace around the bottom.

What else? Sean had pretty much filled her bureau with lingerie of most major types: Teddies, baby-dolls, the new bustier, garter belts and stockings. Another teddy might be nice; after all, it's also something she can wear outside the bedroom once in while. But there really weren't any she liked, except for a bright red one which had a nice cut to it. But not red. Too obvious.

Right next to it, though, was a long, black, silk gown, with spaghetti straps, cut low in the back and not too deep in the front; big slits up the sides, lace along the top and down the middle about to the navel. That would be different; something not revealing, but sexy; mysterious, rather than assertive. Why hadn't Sean ever bought her something like this?

That was it. And on sale for only....$95! "Fuck it," she thought. "Who knows what Sean spends on this stuff?" But she would need some silk panties to go with it: Can't be wearing a silk gown and not have silk panties on underneath.

By the time she got back home, it was 6.00pm. She could hardly believe she'd spent two and a half hours on her little outing. She decided that, after such a nice day, the last thing she was about to do was bake herself by turning on the stove and cooking, so she dialed out for Indian food and set to trying on the gown.

It did look good. The tops of her breasts just peeked out from above the lace, and the silk fell beautifully from there to her hips. And it was nicely cut: Silk just falls, and the gown could well have fallen just straight down. But someone knew what they were doing here. They had taken the gown in around the waist, and it clung ever so elegantly to her body (though it was a tiny bit tight going on). And it felt fantastic. There is nothing like the feeling of a silk shirt, or silk trousers, and the light, cool silk falling over her skin now was just wonderful. Perhaps she would just sit around in this wonderful gown for the rest of the evening.

Perhaps not, however. She certainly didn't want to get it dirty, since she wanted to be able to wear it when Sean came home, and she definitely didn't feel like hand-washing it. So she took it off and hid it under the sink in the bathroom, where it would be ready for Sean's arrival. Instead, she threw on her new camisole and panties, which would be cooler, as well.