Outside the gathering, she mingles around, talks with some friends. I'm in a conversation, but I can't seem to pay attention. I'm watching her to make sure she doesn't leave before I can say good-bye. It's been a while since we've even run into each other, and who knows how long it will be until we see each other again.
I'd hoped she wouldn't forget me, and she didn't. She drifts over to me, says, "Give me a hug." As if I would refuse. She holds me for a long time, too long for just friends, then whispers in my ear, "I've got the house to myself tonight. Follow me home if you want to. Just be discreet as we leave." My heart is pounding in my chest, just like it always is when she's around, only much stronger now.
We say some fast good-byes to other friends and walk quickly to our cars. She pulls out of the parking lot, I follow a bit behind, trying not to be obvious. Out on the highway, a chance to reflect.
We met about six years ago, both struggling, confused, unhappy. I saw her occasionally; Monday nights, Thursday mornings. I didn't know what to make of her - I'd never met anyone like her. She was sometimes angry, sometimes happy, sometimes uncertain, sometimes arrogantly sure, sometimes open, sometimes reserved, but always attractive. Piercing eyes, gorgeous slender body, sensual lips, seductive swagger. We talked, shook hands, never hugged. Maybe we knew there was something happening even then, and wanted to chill it before it had a chance to heat up. I asked her to speak at one of our group sessions; she immediately asked me why. I replied innocently, "I think you have a good message," but really it was because I wanted to know more about her.
Our relationship started cautiously, progressed to long intimate talks, walks through the park. She showed me some of her favorite places: the airport runway from the top of my van, the caves in the rain, the park near the mill, the piney woods, the orchard. I took her to a play, the museum, lunch. The day after the museum trip, we talked after one a party until everyone left. She said she had to know what it felt like to kiss me, but she had to run off once she tasted the strength of my passion.
Plans were made for an excursion to the forest. I was recently separated, she was still struggling in her marriage. It was delicious and disastrous all at once. Thursday afternoon we met and drove miles upriver. We stopped and ate at one of the strangest places I have ever been in, a place that time forgot. We left there in a drizzle that cleared to a triple rainbow arching through the mountains. Later that night, she snuck away from her friends to spend the night with me. Guilt overtook her, and she could neither love me nor sleep alongside me, so she spent the night in her car.
She recovered by Saturday and we went canoeing. She was strong and quick and learned to steer the canoe easily. But what I remember most was how we touched each other in the woods by the river. Somehow we ended up together briefly that night. She sat on my lap in my van and I tongued her nipples and felt the swell of her breasts in my mouth. She asked me to stop and let her go. Reluctantly I did and always regretted it. Until now.
We've arrived at her house. Up the driveway to the house, my heart pounds in delicious anticipation. She opens the door and lets me in. I enter and turn, pulling her to me as she tries to close the door. Our lips meet, press together. Her tongue caresses mine, passion building. I pull her jacket off and drop it to the floor. I reach up the back of her sweater to feel her skin and pull her closer. I bite and kiss her neck, put my tongue in her ear. She gasps at that, reacts by pulling away and ripping my coat off. She takes my hand and guides me to the living room. "Want some coffee," she says. But she's heading toward the couch, not the kitchen to make coffee. "No, I only want you," and show her I mean it by pulling her onto me. We fall onto the couch, kissing, touching. She kisses me hard, tastes my tongue, then moves to my neck. I sigh with pleasure. Her touch electrifies me, her body tingles as I caress her. She sits up and I reach to feel her breasts. But she jumps up from the couch.
"Let's undress each other," she says. "Okay," I reply, "but let's unwrap these gifts slowly. I want savor these moments. We've waited a long time for this." She unbuttons my shirt, her fingers tantalize my chest, her hands slide along my arms to push my shirt off. I grasp the bottom of her sweater, pull it up a little, then caress her soft exposed skin. I raise it over her breasts, she lifts her arms, I pull the sweater over her head, she shakes her beautiful hair.
We embrace tightly, skin to skin except for her bra. I reach behind her, unsnap it, then slide my hands around and under the lacy fabric to her breasts, We part slightly so I can hold her breasts, then slightly pinch her nipples. She says, "Let's unwrap our presents some more, I want to see all of you." She undoes my belt, unsnaps my pants, unzips me, and boldly reaches into my boxers to caress my already half-erect cock. I gasp, she pushes me onto the couch, fumbles with my shoes and socks, then tugs my pants off. She kneels in front of me, I raise my hips so she can remove my underwear. She bites my thigh as she slides them off.
