My friends John and Libby invited me to opening night of a play. They lived in a small, historic town about 25 miles from me, called Cadiz. Their little town has revived itself as an artists' enclave, featuring artists of all media, musicians, thespians even buskers. There was always some event in their town.
This was a rare summer theatrical opening. It was a fundraiser. After we saw a pretty good community theatre performance of "12 angry men," we attended a champagne reception in the outdoor garden behind the theatre. There was of course a silent auction. Everyone who ate canapés and drank champagne was expected to write a several-hundred dollar check as well.
After several glasses of wine, Libby said to me, "Carrie-Lynn is in town. She wasn't coming until tomorrow, but things got crazy. She arrived right before we left to come here."
"It will be good to see her again. I'll be here again for the gallery opening tomorrow, "I replied, trying not to reveal my surprise.
Carrie, as I called her, was a woman I had tried to get with a few years before. We did a couple of plays together there in Cadiz. I thought I had gotten somewhere with her, but she turned kind of weird and left me behind. I really liked her because she was smart, quirky and very pretty. We spent quite a bit of time together. She let me feel her up a few times, but it never went beyond that. She got all religious. Then, we had one incredible night of sex, and she walked out of my life. I had moved on I told myself, but it would be nice to see her again.
The food was great, the wine and champagne were fine. I wrote a check for more than my budget allowed, and bought some crap I would later sell at a yard sale.
As the event wound down, Libby took my arm. "You can't drive home just yet. You've had a bit to drink. Come over to the house and have some coffee before you try to drive home." She was right.
We walked in the living room and Libby headed for the kitchen. "I'll make some coffee." John was right behind. "I'll get some crackers and cheese."
I looked into the living room, and there was Carrie, asleep on the couch. She was dressed in one of John's white dress shirts and that was all. I could see her beautiful ass cheeks peeking out from under the tail.
With the noise and commotion, she awakened. "Oh gosh, Michael, I didn't think I would wake to find you here. What a pleasant surprise! I must look awful! I'm jet lagged. My makeup is a day old, and I'm sure my hair is everywhere!"
Carrie was about 5'5', maybe 110 lbs, red hair (real red, not magenta), with a spattering of freckles, a perfect ass, smallish but beautiful breasts. Her hair was cut in a pixie style. And it was sticking out everywhere, but that made it sexy.
She sat up on the sofa, and I sat down on the other end. "I've missed you," I said. "I've missed you, too," she said. And with that, she moved over toward me. "I think about you often, more than I should," she said. By then, she basically mounted my bare leg (shorts, it was summer) and I could feel her pubic hair rake across my skin and her pussy lips spread across my flesh. She reached down and squeezed my cock through my shorts.
"I'm really sorry I left when I had the chance to be with you. I heard from friends that you quit theatre and didn't date." I didn't know what to say. But I did reach up and squeeze one of those beautiful breasts.
"Do you want cream in your coffee?" Libby called from the kitchen. "Yes," I was able to manage to squawk. Carrie climbed off and curled her legs under her, the picture of perfect innocence. Then she arranged the shirt tail so I could see her pussy while no one else could.
John and Libby came in just then with coffee and snacks. "Michael, why don't you stay the night? We can all catch up, and you can have amaretto in your coffee instead of just cream. Carrie-Lynn is in the den, but I can make up a bed for you on the couch. Stay, please," Libby asked.
Considering that Carrie, with whom I had had the most amazing night of sex in my life, was sleeping down the hall, and she had already rubbed her pussy on me, I could hardly pass on the opportunity.
"Sure! I'd like that," was my answer.
"Well," Carrie said, "if we are going to stay up a while, I'm putting on jeans. My ass is cold. I'll be right back."
When she left the room, I said, "She seems like the old Carrie. What do you guys think?"
John said, "She seems like the old Carrie to me. She wasn't supposed to get here until tomorrow. She called this afternoon with an airline horror story, everything had gotten screwed up. She asked if she could come earlier. We agreed. She got here right when we were leaving for the theatre. She said she needed to sleep, so we went on with our plans. She seems fine."
"Maybe all that weird stuff is behind her now," Libby said.
"You know I've always liked her. I hope the weird stuff is gone," I answered.
Yes, my ass was cold. I was almost naked. I needed to be more proper, especially because my pussy had gotten wet when I first saw Michael. And I had sure let my pussy lead my actions. Maybe I was the slut the Temple of God told me I was.
I went back to the den and looked for the jeans that made my ass look the best.
Actually, I fell for Michael about two years before. But, I was on the rebound from Jack. Michael was everything I had wanted Jack to be; attentive, caring, intelligent, articulate. Jack hadn't been any of those things, but he was an incredible fuck. I put up with a lot for a long time because he could send me into sexual paroxysms.
A month after I finally separated myself from Jack, I met Michael when we were in a play together. I really liked him. Emotionally, he was exactly what I wanted in a man. But, because of Jack, I had sworn off men.
Michael and I spent quite a bit of time together. We had dinner a couple of times a week. We even went on weekend trips together. We even slept together. Unfortunately, I mean we
slept
together, as in sleep. One room was cheaper than two.
