She stood there waiting for him feeling as if she had stepped into some kind of surreal painting. She expected the clock on the wall to melt or her subconscious to come spilling out of her head on display for the whole world to sift through. All because she never expected to be standing in a hotel lobby waiting for this particular man ever again. When he messaged to say he would be in town on business and requesting to see her after nearly 2 years of silence, she had no choice but to agree. She never had any choice when it came to him.
So here she stood waiting for him after calling up to his room to tell him she had just arrived. She wasn't sure what to expect, wasn't sure what he wanted other than dinner and conversation. As she spotted him approaching down the hall from the elevator, she felt memories rushing at her, threatening to overwhelm.
"Hi," he uttered when he reached her, and took her in his arms for a hug of greeting.
As she stood there pressed snuggly against him, she felt tears prickling at the back of her eyes, threatening to overflow. She willed them to stop. She would not let him know what his absence had cost her. Her pride didn't want him to know she had never gotten over him.
As she pulled away from his embrace, worried about what he might read on her face, he smiled that endearing smile of his that always got her, cupped her cheek in his palm, and whispered, "I've missed you."
"Me too, she agreed as one rebellious tear escaped her iron will and rolled down her cheek to meet his thumb.
"Are you hungry?" he queried.
"Yes," she heard herself reply, holding back the truth that it wasn't exactly food she was hungry for.
They agreed that she would drive since she was familiar with the area. She took him to a nice, little Mexican restaurant nearby because she knew he enjoyed Mexican. She also knew he loved barbeque, and probably wouldn't mind having some down home Southern cooking while he was here, but she needed a margarita at the moment.
They were able to get a table right away as the dinner crowd hadn't quite kicked in at 5 in the afternoon. When they sat down, she finally got a good look at him, and was pleased to find he hadn't changed much since the last time she saw him. He still had the same broad shoulders, same sexy, masculine hands, and those same blindingly gorgeous green eyes with maybe just a hint of sadness in them now which was to be expected.
They chatted amiably, catching up on the things they had missed in each other's lives over the last couple of years. Her youngest and his oldest child had now entered elementary school. They talked about his business, her promotion at work, home repairs, the ridiculously high price of gas. They did an admirable job of staying away from the land mines...why they hadn't spoken in two years, why they both knew at the time it was unavoidable, regrets, and "what if's."
She didn't need to talk about those things anymore. She knew all the answers. She had long since made peace with the words he used to toss at her regularly as some sort of mantra, "What you want just isn't possible for us."
She knew they each had families they loved waiting at home for them, she knew they would each do just about anything to avoid hurting them, she knew neither of them ever had any desire to start over with someone new. Agreement on all of these basic things is what had made them feel so safe with each other for so long. That is until she could no longer hide from him that she had fallen in love despite her best intentions. That began the long spiral of arguments, recriminations and his constant tossing of his mantra at her as if to ward off evil spirits. As it turned out, the evil spirits he was attempting to ward off were his own feelings. At the end of the day, he did what she didn't have it in her to do, and walked away before their happy, suburban lives blew up in their faces. '
She sat in front of him now with all of that behind her. She no longer needed to extract those three words from him like a miner blindly digging for gold he desperately hopes to find. She no longer needed more than he could give. She could see it in his eyes, and that was enough.
She noticed as she sat there with him that something felt different. She couldn't put her finger on it until they had nearly finished their meal. Then it struck her with startling clarity. That empty space she'd been carrying around with her (the space that used to contain her desire, her passion, her fantasies, her sexual self) was full again. She'd grown so accustomed to working around it, tiptoeing past it each morning in order to get on with her everyday life, that it took a while to recognize the absence of longing. She squirmed around in her own delicious wetness, and wanted more than anything to fuck him, wanted more than anything to keep that emptiness at bay.
After finishing their meal, and "catch up" session, they returned to her car. She was keenly aware of his presence beside her as they slid into the car. They continued to chat as she drove. Nonchalantly, almost imperceptibly, he placed his hand on her thigh as they talked. When he had finished his sentence, they exchanged a glance, then a smile, nothing more. His hand sent electricity through her body, dilating her pupils, quickening her breath, hardening her nipples and turning the area between her legs into a sloshy, wet mess.
Her single thought as she drove, simply, "Let me get us to the hotel safely. Please God don't let me have an accident with this man in my car."
She breathed a sigh of relief as she pulled into a spot in the hotel's parking lot. As soon as she had turned off the engine, he turned to her, drew near, and touched his lips to hers. He drew back to search her face for clues, finding no resistance there, he kissed her again, more deeply, tongue dancing around in her mouth.
Her mind replayed their very first kiss, wondering if he remembered it at all. It had been in an elevator on the way up to his room. As soon as the doors swished shut, he had pressed her against the wall and covered her mouth with his. She remembered her first thought being how different his lips felt from her husband's....fuller, softer, unfamiliar. She remembered running her hands through his hair, unable to contain the moans that escaped into his mouth. She remembered being startled when the elevator door opened, so lost was she in this first kiss of theirs.
As she played these thoughts in her mind, his hand moved gently up her thigh, under her dress, his fingers just brushing against her pussy lips. She heard him moan softly as his fingers met her wetness. He merely stroked her outer lips, slowly, up and down as his kiss continued to increase the river of wetness between her legs. She reached down into his lap, felt the hardness there, saw the tiny spot of precum growing on his pants, and breathed, "Let's go upstairs."
They were out of the car faster than she had believed humanly possible, she with her large bag of "goodies" she had brought along "just in case" she had told herself that morning as she carefully packed them; he struggling to walk with the unruly bulge between his legs. Their kisses and fondling continued during the elevator ride up to his room, bringing their needs to a fever pitch by the time his electronic key card "popped" in the lock, and allowed them entrance.
He shoved her against the wall, before the door had even closed; his bulging cock, pressing insistently against her thigh as his tongue explored every corner of her mouth.
He struggled with her dress a moment, before stepping back and simply saying, "Take it off."
"You too," she returned as she expertly untied the sash in the back, and lifted the dress up and over her head; Next came the bra until she was standing before him entirely naked.
She watched as he quickly removed his clothing, stopping him just before he removed the tight boxers she so loved seeing on him. She knelt in front of him, her tongue grazing his stomach just above the waistband. She could feel the heat coming from his cock, see it straining against the fabric of the boxers. She rubbed her face against it, tongued him through the fabric, before gripping the waistband of the boxers and tugging them down to his ankles.
His beautiful cock bobbed in her face. Her first instinct was to swallow the entire shaft, but she held back; lightly licking the tip, massaging his balls in her hand. Tongue traveling down the shaft, over his balls and back up again.
"Fuck," she heard him whisper which was her cue to take him.
She sucked the tip into her mouth, swiveling her tongue around it, before slowly swallowing his entire length. She worked her head up and down, grunting each time his head met the back of her throat. She cupped his balls in her hand, sucked harder and faster until he gripped two fistfuls of hair, pulled her off, his cock slipping out of her mouth with an audible "pop", and up to his waiting lips.
"I want to cum inside you the first time," he mumbled against her mouth as he walked her over to the bed.
She allowed herself to be laid down across the bed as he lowered his head to her breasts. He sucked one nipple into his mouth as his hand rolled the other nipple back and forth between his fingers. She felt nearly on the edge of orgasm with the intense stimulation when he moved down to position himself between her legs.
He kissed his way softly up one inner thigh and down the other, going off course to spend a few moments circling her navel with his tongue before diving headfirst into her swollen cunt.
She arched her back, gasped, and gripped a handful of his hair as his tongue slid inside her. She looked down to watch as he licked his way up to her hard clit, sucking it between his lips. His tongue flicked expertly over the head of her clit, as he snaked a hand up to pinch a nipple again.
"You taste so damn good. I never forgot how good you taste," he told her, his face glistening with her juices.
