Alone 67

The bed was too big for one person and it only reminded him of how much he missed her. 'God, has it only been 24 hours?' he thought. It hurt him to think of their last moments together. He could still see her eyes in the candlelight, shiny-bright with tears she refused to let fall. She wouldn't cry in front of him, make his departure even harder. She knew he had to leave. His work came first, her second. They both knew it and had accepted it long ago. But even acceptance didn't make their separations any easier.

He closed his eyes, thinking back to earlier that last evening. Soft candlelight greeted him when he walked into her bedroom. He saw her lying on the bed, eyes closed, softly breathing, her luscious breasts rising and falling. He stood in the doorway watching her. He was always amazed she had chosen him. She was so beautiful she could have had any man she wanted but she wanted only him. He watched her breathe and felt his desire for her stir him. Normally she slept in the nude but tonight she had on a black lace nightie. She was lying on her side and the lace had ridden up over her hip, exposing it to his gaze. Her eyes fluttered open and she smiled at him. Her smile made him melt and want her all the more.

He quickly crossed the space between them and scooped her into his arms. His mouth found her neck, soft and supple, and he began to gently bite. She moaned, quietly. He laid her back down and curled up behind her. She rolled onto her side, her mouth against his neck, her breath hot and moist. She slowly kissed him, her tongue tracing circles through her parted lips. He moaned and pulled her tightly against him. Her breasts, full and lush, pressed into him and made him harder. Her nipples were hard nubs, rubbing against him. He moved so he could kiss and fondle her.

He lowered his mouth to her breast, letting his warm breath arouse her further. Gently he took her nipple into his mouth, his teeth gingerly nipping. She moaned again, louder than before. He reached over and massaged her other breast, rubbing her nipple and aureole between his fingers. He reached down to the hem of her gown and started to tug. She looked at him. Did he see anxiety there? She asked him if he didn't like her gown, she had gotten it specially for him, for their last night together. He shook his head, stroking her cheek, assuring her she looked amazing. But he wanted to touch and kiss and caress her and the gown wasn't nearly as soft as her skin and that was what he wanted to feel. She smiled at him. He could see relief in her eyes. He knew she wanted tonight to be special, wanted to make his last night with her memorable. He knew she only ever wanted to please him but he was never able to tell her how much she did.

Once the gown was removed her breasts were free for his enjoyment. He slid his arms under her shoulder blades, bringing her to his hungry mouth. He sucked deeply, rubbing the tip of her nipple with his tongue, swirling it around her aureole. He could hear her breathing becoming ragged as he aroused her. He laid her down and she curled into his arms, breathing against his neck.

He awoke with a start. He was so sure she had been there with him. He could still feels where she had breathed against him. Her perfume still hung faintly in the air. He reached over to where she should have been. His hand fell on emptiness. He had expected to feel her. It didn't feel like a dream; it had been so real.

He ran his hand along the cool sheets, saddened that they weren't warm from her. As he ran his finger down the linen he closed his eyes thinking of running his fingers along her cheek, along her hip, ending in her velvety warmth. He rolled on his back. Without even realizing what he was doing he began to stroke his cock as he thought about her.

She was a passionate lover, eager to please and be pleased. He could smell her arousal, her muskiness drawing him to her. He loved her taste and laid himself between her soft, silky thighs. He ran his tongue slowly, drawing a line from her love tunnel to her clit. She arched her back as he stroked her again, a moan low in her throat. They had been lovers for years and he knew her body well enough to know how long he needed to make her wait. She moaned again and pulled his head into her. This was what he had been waiting for. He licked her harder and faster, sliding his tongue into her, rubbing her clit. As her moans grew louder, her panting faster, he slid two fingers into her. As he sucked her, flicking her clit with his tongue, his fingers moved in and out of her more rapidly. He felt her stiffen and arch her back. She pushed her hips hard against him, prolonging her release. Finally she collapsed, her eyes closed, her lips moving as if offering up a silent prayer.

Before walking into the bathroom he covered her with a light blanket. She snuggled in like a small child. She looked so innocent and vulnerable; leaving her almost broke his heart. He pulled the door closed after him and then switched on the light. He blinked against the brightness and looked at himself in the mirror. The lines around his eyes were getting deeper and the hair going from brown to grey to white. He knew he was getting older but she could make him as hard as he had been at eighteen.

He washed up quickly and got undressed. He turned out the light and opened the door. He could see her curled up on his side of the bed, her hand caressing his pillow. He walked around and took her hand, kissing her fingertips. She opened her eyes and looked at him. She never had to tell him how she felt, her eyes told him everything. She pushed back the covers and came over to him. As she rolled on her back she took his sac in her mouth. Gently she ran her tongue between his testes, making him tighten. She took him in her mouth, her tongue rubbing the underside of his cock. He moaned low in his throat as she quickly raised and lowered her head. He could feel her taking him deeply, the head of his cock pressing against the back of her mouth. When she sensed he was getting too close to cumming she released his cock and started to lick from his balls to his ass, her tongue pressing tightly against him. He shuddered with excitement and as she felt his need grow, so did hers. Her fingers found her bud, hot and throbbing. He watched her rub her clit as she licked him. Watching her pleasure herself always made him ooze. He moved so he could drive his cock into her mouth. She took him hungrily, her tongue savoring his pre-cum.

Her hips were moving hard against the bed as she rubbed herself, orgasming again, making the place on the bed beneath her wet. He pulled out of her mouth, letting her catch her breath. Through half-slitted eyes she looked at him. No longer did she look innocent and vulnerable. No longer did she look like a child. She was an exciting, desirable woman. Her hair, wild and in disarray, only added to her wanton look. He couldn't resist fucking her any longer. He pulled her fully onto the bed and kneeled between her legs. He could see her velvet lips glistening with her juices. Slowly he pushed himself into her. She arched meeting his thrust. He moved himself almost out of her, only the head of his cock still bathed in her wetness. Again he slowly pushed into her. Again she arched, more insistent this time, trying to drive him in deeper.

He stroked his cock harder, thinking of how wet she had been. On the head of his cock clear drops appeared, the pre-cum she loved to lick from him. Faster he stroked himself, thinking about her riding him. She had gotten frustrated with how slowly he was going and rolled him onto his back. She climbed on top of him, impaling herself on his shaft. As she rocked on him he could hear her breathing become ragged. Her breasts rubbed against him, her nipples rock hard. She threw her head back, gulping in deep lungfuls of air. Her hair tumbled wildly around her, moving like a living thing as she rode him. Her moans became deeper, more guttural.

His hand gripped his cock tighter as he thought about her last orgasm. She was screaming his name, over and over, riding him hard and fast. She stiffened as the first waves of orgasm washed over her. And then she rode him even harder and faster, making her orgasm last longer, making herself orgasm again and again.

Holding on to his cock he squeezed, remembering how tightly her pussy held him, her muscles pulsating, trying to milk him. His hand moved faster, thinking about how he couldn't hold back, thinking about how he held on to her hips, thrusting up into her. She moaned loudly, grinding her pussy into him, making him make her cum again. He felt his cum, hot and sticky, hit his stomach, long white ropes pooling there. But even as he stroked himself to get the last drops out he could feel her on top of him. He could feel their cum running over his balls, his thighs, puddling beneath him.

As he let out a breath he closed his eyes. Their separation might be long but he had the memory of that last night to make his bed feel less empty.