A Walk To Remember 1

I thought I had finished with meeting men, but something in his emails made me reconsider. He seemed so very kind and gentle. He was obviously intelligent, and he also seemed to have a decent sense of humor. When he said he was going to be in a nearby town to do some work with Habitat, I couldn't resist going to meet him. I have to admit, though, that I did get cold feet waiting in Panera for him to arrive. I hadn't known how long it would take me to drive there, so I arrived about half an hour before our scheduled meeting. I got my salad and coffee, and took a seat near the front window to wait.

I'd only seen one picture of him, so I wasn't sure I'd recognize him, but when he walked around the corner outside, I knew it must be him. His light hair and sexy smile made my hands shake a little as I set down my coffee mug. His relaxed and easy manner spoke of a man who knew his way around his own body. He looked so handsome with the light coming from behind him, but I still couldn't quite see his eyes.

Before I could really catch my breath, he was indoors and sauntering towards me. He looked towards the floor, obviously not sure quite what to say. He raised his eyes just as I was standing, and our eyes met. To this day, I could not tell you what color they are, but I can tell you how they felt on my heart. He seared down into me with his kind gaze, and it felt like he was reading my life story in those few moments. I have no idea how much time we really stood there, staring into one another, but eventually I finally stammered out his name.

"It must be you." I said.

"Yes," he grinned as he spoke, "and it must be you. I'd know your laugh anywhere." Had I been laughing? I was so flustered I wasn't even sure I was standing anymore, but I must have been, because he said "why don't you sit back down while I get some tea."

I sat and tried very hard not to stare at the way his jeans clung to his legs. "Oh my," I thought, "this is going to be a tougher temptation than I've had in a long time." I tucked my book back into my purse as he brought his tea to the table, along with a sandwich.

"What are you reading?" he inquired. It felt like I'd known him forever, instantly, and yet it was the first time I'd actually heard his voice.

"Oh, just a fun mystery - have you ever read any of Janet Evanovich's books?"

"Hmm, the number mysteries?"

"Yup, this is the newest one - just came out in paperback. I've read it before, but it's so much fun . . . ." my voice trailed off as I realized he was staring again. "What?"

"It's just so good to see you. Finally."

"Yes, it is good."

I won't bore you with all of the details of our little coffee/tea break. We talked and laughed through 6 cups of coffee and 2 potty breaks. It was truly as if we'd known one another all our lives. We talked about our families, our neighbors, our jobs (although he was already retired, the lucky dawg), and ourselves. We discussed books, films, music and hobbies. After what seemed like no time at all, though, he put his hand across the table and touched my arm.

"Look, I know we've just met for the first time, but could I show you something really beautiful that is near here?"

"Did you want me to come see your etchings, too?" I teased.

"No, it's not like that. I know how you like walking in the woods, and there is this really great little park near here - could I show you? It shouldn't take too long, and you'd still be able to get home before dark."

"Sure, let's go." I said, "Your car or mine?"

"Let me drive, since I know the way," he said. He opened the doors for me, leading me out to the parking lot and opened the car door for me when we arrived there. As we walked, I could feel him checking out my backside. Normally that makes me very nervous, but it seemed ok with him.

As we buckled into the seats he told me about his local project and how one of the other workers, whose real job was as a park officer, had shown him this park a few days earlier.

"Not many people go there, especially during the week anymore. It's a shame, but apparently folks around here don't like to spend much time in nature."

The whole time we drove, he kept my hand in his, holding it on the seat between us. His touch was gentle but sure, like the comfort of a warm blanket on a cold day.

We pulled into the park drive and he wound us back through the area until the road stopped at the final parking lot. We'd passed many lots on the way, but he obviously had a plan for where we should get out. When we arrived, he was giddy as a boy, jumping out of the car and running around to open my door.

"You're going to spoil me with all this gallantry, you know."

"You should be spoiled, my dear." He smiled so broadly, and his eyes sparkled in the sun. Oh yes, he was so very handsome!

He took a small pack from the back of the car and then, taking my hand in his again, led me down a wooded path. We must have only walked a few hundred yards into the woods when there was a Y in the path, and he led me along the right-hand path. Holding hands, we enjoyed the quiet of the woods as we walked. It was such a comfortable silence. Soon we came to a little outcropping in the path, a small clearing with a fence around it and 5 gravestones inside.

"This is apparently the graveyard of the family who lived on this site over 100 years ago," he told me. "They are the family whose descendants donated this land to the parks." We read the stones that weren't worn too much, and speculated as to who was who. We were still making up stories about them as we walked on.

A little further on the path he pointed out an obviously man-made ditch-like thing off to the right, running alongside the path.

"Can you guess what that is?" He asked, grinning mischievously.

"Umm . . . irrigation ditches?"

"Nope - it's an Indian Mound."

"No way!"

"OH yes, look, here is the plaque." He read out the words to me, telling me about this earthwork, apparently built by ancient people for some ceremonial purpose. Crossing my arms across my chest, I looked out through the woods, over the mounds, thinking about how amazing it is to find so many layers of history in one short walk. His voice trailed off, and we were in silence again. Then it happened, the touch of his hand on my shoulder. First with one hand, then two, he was holding onto my shoulders from behind, gently sitting there like they had to hold me to the earth to keep me from floating away. Soon he was gently massaging my shoulders. I let out an inadvertent hum, very softly, and he hummed back, stepping closer in behind me. Soon his body was touching mine from behind, his hands now slowly rubbing my shoulders.

"Mmm, that feels good." I say, needlessly.

"It's supposed to, Hun. Just relax and enjoy the scenery." He spoke softly, and his words a whisper in my left ear. As his breath warmed my earlobe, it melted my inner self. His lips grazed my ear, this time slowly, with intent, breathing warm air into my ear and neck again. I closed my eyes, enjoying a new kind of beauty. That peaceful, delicious feeling of being wanted washed over me and I leaned back into him. I raised my hands and placed them over his, calming his massage. Then I turned around in his grasp to face him, looking up into his deep, soulful eyes.

"May I kiss you?" I asked. He answered by beating me to the kiss. His lips descended onto mine, at once soft and demanding. His mouth claimed mine as his eyes had already claimed my heart. His tongue invaded my mouth with no resistance, and we licked, nibbled, sucked and kissed for a long, long time. My hands crept up around his back, grazing over his ribs, sliding under the small daypack he carried, feeling his muscled shoulders, drifting down and over his butt, flying up through his hair and over his neck and ears. I wanted to feel every inch of this man. Suddenly there was a disturbance in the woods behind me as some birds were flushed out of the underbrush. It startled us both, and we jumped a bit apart at the sound.

The moment gone, we walked on down the path. The sunlight diffused through the leaves was golden and lime and sweet brassy colors, dappling the path and tickling his face like my fingers longed to do. Still, I held his hand tightly and kept on walking, trying to enjoy the natural surroundings and not think about how good his mouth felt on mine. I have no idea what we talked about at that point, and frankly, I don't think it matters.

"Here we are," he said, pulling me along the path to the right. Suddenly we'd gotten to another break in the path, and he obviously had this destination in mind. I followed him to the right, down a slight slope where the ground changed from pine needles and leafy loam to a little gravel, and then to some wooden steps. A bit more gravel and a few more steps and we were on a wooden deck.

"Oh," I gasped. "What a beautiful view!" Walking to the edge of the deck, I found that suddenly we were on a cliff overlooking a river about 20 yards below. Down in the ravine the light was sparkling across the water, reflecting up along the cliff across the way and creating a beautiful dance of shimmer in the noon sun.

"My buddy tells me that the CCC built this deck a long time ago, but it's the Boy Scouts who have built the benches." He indicated the several benches around the deck of varying sizes, each with a different view of the ravine. "This one, here on this end, is my favorite."

It was a long, low, wide bench, only about 10 inches off the base of the deck. It seemed to have been made for young children, and the wood was treated and sanded to the smoothness of glass.

"Nice workmanship," I observed. "No one will get splinters from this bench!"

We sat down together on the bench and I leaned back against his solid chest. he was able to lean against part of the back railing to the deck, and we were both able to relax and enjoy the distant sounds of the water bubbling along below. I closed my eyes again, drifting into a comfortable haze as he began to run his gentle hands up and down my arms.

Soon, his hands began to roam around my waist and over my breasts. It was so comforting and soft that I almost felt I was dreaming at first. I hummed a little in the back of my throat and shifted slightly against his chest.

"I'm sorry, am I going too far?" He asked me, whispering again into my ear.

"Oh no, that feels so good." I comforted him. I spread my palms and fingers over his thighs, one on each side of my own as we reclined. His hands cupped my breasts and began a slow, tantalizing choreography. Fingers swirling over the cotton of my t-shirt, he soon had my nipples erect. I could feel the subtle flicking as each knuckle passed over my aching nubs. Repeating in a slow, deliberate tattoo, he continued . . . flick flick flick flick. I could feel my breasts get heavier. I could feel moisture building between my thighs, and my own hands and fingers started mimicking his over his own thighs.

As he aroused me, I began to use my fingernails over his jeans, scratching where I had simply been caressing. I started squirming, wanting more and yet enjoying the exquisite torture of his gentleness. Finally I took one of his hands and led him beneath my t-shirt, up to my cotton bra. I moaned softly as his fingertips finally concentrated on my nipples, both simultaneously, pinching them ever so gently.

"Oh, please, harder," I whispered, "Please." He quickly obliged by pinching harder, lightly twisting each protrusion between his fingers as I nearly writhed between his arms. Finally he grabbed my breasts, one in each hand and just held them. My, he had large hands. I felt so safe, so complete, so utterly at home in his hold. I groaned and put my head back on his shoulder as I grabbed his thighs again. As my heartbeat and breathing slowed closer to normal, I turned around on the bench, stretched my neck, and kissed him.

Quickly he had his arms around me, holding me as we kissed again and again. He placed me down on the bench and leaned in over me, his lips covering my face and neck with light brushes of heat. He caressed my cheeks with his fingertips, following each stroke with kisses. His lips found my ears, his tongue probing, his breath chilling and heating me at the same time. I tried to keep up, to keep kissing him, but soon lay nearly still, reveling in his ministrations. One of his large hands was back on my breast, gently massaging, rubbing, and arousing my whole body.

"Hold on a moment," I said, gently pushing him back and sitting up. I pulled one of my arms into my t-shirt, did my magic, and soon was pulling my bra out the opposite sleeve. "There, that should make things more interesting, don't you think?" I knew my smile was impish, and he responded with what could only be describe as a lascivious grin. I dropped my bra to the floor of the deck as he leaned over me again, nearly giggling. One large, warm hand crept up my skin; leaving goose bumps along the way and making my breath come in starts. My own hands ventured under his shirt in kind and I found his nipples to play with while we kissed. His lips, tongue, mouth were hot, wet and hungry, and my own responded in kind. As we kissed he explored extensively under my shirt, feeling my breasts, noting my scar lines from long-ago surgeries, and finding my long, unshaven underarm hair. he groaned repeatedly into my mouth, never stopping the assault on my tongue. I could have kissed him for weeks, it was so delicious. After a while, though, he licked my lips with his tongue and spoke again.

"I did not expect for this to happen today." He held himself above me on his hands. "I did not mean to attack you like this, although, it is quite nice."

"Yes, quite nice," I responded breathlessly and smiled at his understatement. "Please don't stop!" I begged earnestly. He grinned down at me, relishing the permission I'd given with my plea, and slowly, watching his hand as he went, wriggled his fingers beneath the elastic waistband of my skirt and under my panties. His large hand covered my nest of hair and simply held my mound, gently, as he'd first held my breast. I lay back again and moaned, loving this touch and still wanting more. He increased the pressure on my fur, holding me tightly and then slowly, oh, so slowly, put one broad finger into the nest to explore. I felt the slight roughness of his work-hardened hands as he parted my lower lips and found the abundance of moisture there.

"Oh, so very wet," he said, his breath moistening my neck again. He nibbled there, at the base of my neck while he probed into my vulva. Oh, his fingers were amazingly gentle and so large and broad. Soon he found my clit and began making gentle circles around it. As he did that, I stroked my hands up and down his back under his shirt. He felt so good and solid. His fingers lit a fire inside me that could not be extinguished. He was dancing around my sweet spot like it was his hometown, and I loved it. I writhed beneath him, inadvertently thrusting my pelvis up into his hand.

"Oh, yes, yes, please!" I groaned. "So close!" I growled as he finally thrust that finger inside me, immediately pounding on my g-spot. My entire body reduced to one spot, every fiber of my being calling out for that release, that final soaring over the cliff. My hands grabbed hold of the bench on either side of myself, feeling the need to hold myself to the earth. I groaned and thrust beneath his hand, begging and saying things that would otherwise sound ridiculous. He thrummed my g-spot until I could almost not take it anymore and then he clenched his hand, the heel of his palm pounding into my clitoral area, the tip of his finger grinding into my g, and my whole body convulsed, every cell existing for this moment of triumph. He held me there, his puppet, under his control in ecstasy while his hand still grasped me in that most intimate way. All breath was gone from me, all sense had flown.

The firmness of his lips on mine brought me back to a quivering consciousness. As he departed from the kiss I saw his hand, felt his now-wet fingers sliding up my belly on their way out of my skirt. Slowly regaining my senses, I realized that he was still fully clothed, and I could feel his bulging erection pressing against my own thigh. I reached down and stroked him firmly through his jeans. Our eyes met again. I knew it was time to repay his kind favor.

"Sit up, please" I requested, pushing gently on his chest. He did as I asked and helped me to sit up as well, I kissed him again before standing, and then I pulled him up to stand, facing me. I made full eye contact again as I reached down, pulling on his belt to loosen and unlatch it.

"Oh, Hun, this is a public park." He murmured.

"I know - we'll be discreet." I unbuckled the belt, unsnapped and then unzipped his fly, and smoothed my hands down the back of his jean to feel his butt. I squeezed his firm cheeks and pulled him close to me. "Good thing not many people come here, huh?"

"Oh, we might be the only ones to cum here all day." He leered at me with his pun. We laughed together as a small breeze riffled through our hair.

"So far, I'm the only one who has." I sigh, moving one hand around to the front of his open jeans, feeling his erection through his cotton briefs. After stroking a few times, I pulled the elastic out and freed his member, stroking skin-on-skin for the first time. His skin was soft and tender, but the hardness underneath was exhilarating. Pulling on his length a bit, I rubbed the head of his cock under the hem of my t-shirt, across my belly. His precut was so delicious; moistening my skin, so that when that light breeze returned it raised goose bumps and made me groan. I drooled in anticipation. "Please, sit back down, dear."

He sat and I knelt in front of him, eager to taste his teasing juice. Holding his rod before me I licked the very tip. Moaning with the pleasure of it, I licked again, guiding his cock with my hand. He was so hard, so ready, dripping with anticipation as I licked him over and over again. He leaned back onto his hands to give me slightly better access and I reached out and gently freed his scrotum from his jeans and underwear. His balls were heavy and tight, but he seemed so well controlled. His maturity was evident in how he restrained himself from cumming as I finally plunged his member deep into my mouth, taking him back into my throat quickly until my lips were at the base of him. He gasped, his breathing short and rapid with the sudden assault on his flesh. One hand gently raised up to stroke my hair as I started to suckle him. I cupped his balls in my hand and started a rhythmic licking inside my mouth. My tongue was laving his shaft as my head bobbed up and down, my lip-covered teeth applying steady pressure.

I had to consciously slow myself down, enjoy the moment as his passion grew. Amazing as it was, he still was growing harder and longer in my mouth, steadily reaching towards a climax that I anticipated as much as he. His had stroking my hair was sweet and comforting as I licked and fondled his cock. I could feel him getting closer, could feel the pressure building, mounting as his scrotum started to draw up close to his rod. I stopped, then, suddenly, just as a light breeze came near again.

I looked again at him, cock and balls exposed to the fresh air, standing, quivering a little in my hand, up his belly and chest to his flushed face. He'd been looking out, over the deck at the trees and cliff, but suddenly he turned his head down and we made eye contact again. Slowly, keeping my eyes glued to his, I reached out my tongue and licked his cock, base to tip. Long, slow, deliberate strokes with my tongue started to drive him wild again, but my playing had stoked my own fire as well, and I could feel that aching hunger in my core, along with wetness dripping through my panties.