"Oh God!"
I moaned and quickly stopped the rhythmic movements that drove me up and down on Elliott's cock. After a moment, I raised my body from Elliott's and crashed to the bed beside him.
"Damn, Van, that was good."
Van was his nickname for me, short for Savannah. He'd been calling me that since we first met, 6 years ago, in college. As I lay there beside him, uncovered and praying for the air conditioning to come on, I thought about where this little episode would fall on the top ten list.
"Hey Elliott, what do you think about putting this one at number 7?"
He laughed. "Sure. Works for me"
I sighed contentedly and reached for the sheet. The air had come on, and even though southern summers were outrageously hot, I suddenly had goose bumps.
"Remember how we got this silly little top ten list started?" I whispered.
"Sure. You were just getting over that dirt bag David and needed a shoulder to cry on. I just so happened to be the perfect shoulder."
I giggled. Elliott and I had been friends since our freshman year of college. He used to joke that he was my "dick in the glass case." You know-in case of emergency, break glass. After I dumped David at the end of our freshman year, we uncovered all sorts of sexual tension. When we came back to school in August, Elliott took it upon himself to take care of me after the appendectomy I'd had only 4 weeks earlier. One thing led to another, and by October, we were madly in love.
I looked over at Elliott. He was lying on his back, eyes closed, hands laced behind his head. It was easy for me to remember why I had fallen so hard for him. He was tall, about 6' 6" and built like a linebacker. He wasn't thin by any stretch of the imagination, but rather was muscular and intimidating. His build suited him for his job as police officer in the small country town where he was from and we lived. His short black hair was beginning to gray, and he claimed it had only started since our marriage 2 years earlier.
I leaned over and kissed the tip of his nose. He opened his hazel eyes and smiled.
"Remember the night of # 10?" he asked.
"I certainly do," I replied. "We hadn't been dating very long. We were on our way to go see your mom and dad. I hadn't met them but 2 or 3 times and wanted to make a good impression."
Elliott had grown up only 30 minutes from the college we attended. After we started dating, it was nothing out of the ordinary for us to visit his hometown at least 3 times a week. He knew all sorts of paths, empty fields, and good makeout spots from his high school years and he didn't neglect to show any of them to me.
He reached over and entwined his fingers in my long brown hair. "You know, you were the first brunette I ever dated."
I rolled my eyes and snorted. "Yeah, yeah, I know. I guess that's why you were so surprised that night. Didn't trust brunettes to show you a good time, huh?"
"Boy was I wrong."
He leaned over to kiss me, lingering a moment to watch my blue eyes. After our lips parted, he drew me close to him and promptly fell asleep. I could hear him snoring softly and closed my eyes as well, but didn't fall asleep.
I was still thinking about the night of # 10 on our list. Elliot had driven an older Ford Ranger pickup truck in college. It was small, but suited the two of us well as a means of transportation when were so terribly broke in college. That night, we left the college and were headed to his parents' house. Elliott and I had made out and felt each other up, but hadn't really done much more than that. While I wasn't overly promiscuous in high school, I had given my share of blowjobs and hand jobs. I had dated a guy who was by far the best pussy eater that I've ever met, and we experimented like normal teenage couples. However, I had never lost my virginity. I was hoping to save that for "the one".
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Elliott and I were headed down the dark, straight stretch of road and he was driving. We'd shared some long, heavy kisses before leaving and were both quite worked up. I unhooked my seatbelt and scooted over so I was sitting next to Elliott.
"This thing have cruise?" I asked.
"Yeah," he replied. "I'll still have to switch gears, though."
"Well, you had better be a good driver, then," I said as I reached over and began caressing his cock through his jeans.
"Dear God Savannah," he moaned. "If you keep that up, we'll never make it to Mom and Dad's."