Many years ago, I met who would best be described as the love of my life. I would do most anything for him. Unfortunately, whereas he was attracted to me and he liked me, he did not feel the same as I. I was 14 when I "fell" for the older 15-year-old. We dated off and on and eventually started making love. I thought I could keep him happy so I held his organ between my legs and slid down onto it one summer day while his parents were gone. I liked the connection, the closeness. I liked sex with Rick.
Rick was my first, totally. His was the first cock I had ever held, the first I had ever tasted. I remembered so well the first time I stroked it like he told me. We were at the drive-in theater. He had manually brought me to orgasm for the first time (well, the first time with someone else). I started holding him and rubbing him. He told me to hold it "like this" and go up and down. Before long he was moving his hips with my strokes. I knew he was liking it. When he said, "Faster," I did just what he said. Then he came. His stuff shot up to his shoulder and almost hit me in the face. It was his first also.
But what I want to share today happened much later. Rick had experienced several other girls and broken my heart. I didn't get over him but I did move on in life. I married a nice guy and settled down in my hometown. Rick went onto college. He returned a few years later with his wife. They lived two blocks away.
Rick was now a policeman. I would see him around town sometimes. He looked so handsome in the uniform. My son's would wave to the nice policeman. He was real good with them. I missed our closeness, not so much the sexual closeness as much as we had been real friends too. Though, I also missed the sex. I wanted some of the closeness back again.
I called him! I knew his wife worked days while he worked nights. I knew she was gone so I called. I told him I missed our friendship. He said he did too. We talked for awhile. I think we both enjoyed it. We talked on the phone often. I would call him during the day while she was gone or he would call me late after my husband left for the graveyard shift. We would wave when we saw each other in town.
One night my husband and I had an argument. I was upset and depressed. Rick called before leaving work. He finished his shift the same time my husband started his. Rick knew I was bummed out. I would hardly talk. I told him I couldn't explain it on a phone. I told him to stop by for a couple minutes on his way home. We talked a lot longer than a couple minutes. It was so good. Nothing happened but talk.
Except in my mind. When he was leaving, I gave him a hug and told him how much I liked our talks. I thanked him for stopping by. He helped cheer me up a lot. I went to bed thinking how really nice it was to hold Rick again. And I touched myself. Actually, I did a vibrator Keith, my husband, had bought. Keith bought it and tried to get me to use it, to loosen me up sexually. My mind was filled with memories of Rick that night. The next time Rick stopped by on his way home, I wore a robe that would open a little. I wore a sexier nightgown than usual. We still just talked but I caught him looking.
