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Wiedersehen

She and I had kept in touch, of course, if only through customary means. A thoughtful card at Christmas and on our respective birthdays, that sort of thing. When a letter arrived from her in the autumn, I was pleased to read that she would be in town the following month and invited me to catch up over coffee.

The hotel bar was very grand in its tastefully understated way and I spotted her immediately, smiling warmly at me and getting up from her seat at the quiet corner table. We exchanged kisses on the cheek and she embraced me, clearly as pleased to see me after all this time as I was to see her.

She looked slightly older, less girlish than I remembered her, but perhaps I was only imagining it because I was looking for some sign that she’d changed. Matured. Expecting her to be the adult she was supposed to have grown into. Probably thinking the same about me, she discreetly eyed me up and down before gesturing to the seat opposite hers. I thanked her and we sat down.

After exchanging the preliminary ‘How-the-devil-are-you’s and ‘You-look-well’s we ordered coffee and relaxed into the usual conversation between friends-stroke-lovers who have not seen each other for a longer period of time. She made me tell her all about my career and what was going on at the present moment in my life. I listened intently as she told me all about the new job she had taken and informed me of her sister’s engagement. Then of course we graduated to more casual, unstructured chat and the hours cosily flew by.

“It’s good to see you again,” she said earnestly, the most relaxed little smile on her lips, to which I sincerely replied, “It is. It really is.”

“I remember it well, the first moment I laid eyes on you,” I ventured, waxing romantic. “I’d never seen such a vision of loveliness.” 

Looking more amused than flattered at the remark, she grinned.

Then she averted my glance and leaned forward. Seduction had always been second nature to her, but she was always tactful.

“Would it be dreadfully forward of me to propose that we continue this discussion upstairs?”

My spine tingled and the blood rushed to my loins.
“Lead the way,” I heard myself reply.

She deposited her key on the desk and I leaned back against the wall, observing her as he removed her coat. Without a word she turned and let her eyes linger on mine. I could have sworn I saw a flash of surprise in her features when I leaned forward, took her face in my hands and pulled her to me for a kiss. In an instant she was reciprocating, her tongue communicating with mine.

Then she fell to her knees, opened my trousers and took my swollen cock in her hand.

I pressed my upper back flat against the wall to steady myself, not counting on my knees to support me. My eyes closed and my head thrown back in ecstasy as her lips expertly drew my foreskin back, her hot tongue circled round my wet, exposed tip and she proceeded to suck me deep and slow.

I honestly had not expected the afternoon to take this particular course or I would have washed, but that sort of thing never mattered to her. On the contrary, she seemed to enjoy me more in my natural state. Judging by her eagerness it didn’t take a genius to figure out that she was far from squeamish about manly scents and tastes.

I didn’t think her technique could be improved upon but I was wrong. She took her time, let her lips wander, pleasured just the right spots and knew exactly when to ease off. Much as I tried to hold out, I was no match for her skilful mouth and as soon as she was ready she had me coming hard, my fingers clawing at the wall as she drank down every last drop she could coax from my burning sex.

Then she proceeded to undress herself and I started to do the same but she brought her hand to mine and stopped me.

“Let me.”

My eyes met hers and remained locked for a moment.

I lay back on the bed, every nerve in my body awakened…

Her hungry mouth explored every inch of my skin then came to my ear and whispered, “what do you want? Tell me.”

And so I did.

“Take me in your mouth again…”

“Grab my hair,” she sighed in response and my fingers obediently tightened around her long golden locks as I felt the head of my cock slip past her parted lips.

“Move your tongue over the slit. Slowly.”

This she did again and again, causing me to tremble and writhe beneath her before releasing me so she could speak.

“Arch your back.”

We both found equal pleasure in voicing our desires, an area we had never explored with each other before. Even at its height our sexual chemistry had never been so in-tune as it was then.

“Put your fingers in me,” I demanded breathlessly.

“Touch yourself,” came the resolute reply and the amount of pleasure I took in yielding to her order surprised me. 

My sweaty fingers wrapped round my rigid, throbbing cock and a chill ran through my body when I suddenly felt the heat of her mouth engulf my toes, one by one. Lovingly and with great care she sucked on them and licked the spaces between each one as she slowly fucked me with two of her fingers. I became so caught up in the strange new sensations that my hand stopped moving and I just lay there, passively letting her have her way with me.

“Now your tongue….” I countered and she did just that, licking my tender cock head and fingering my arse until I was so worked up I could take it no longer.

We rolled around on the bed and I fucked her. Properly. It was amazing; just like old times, only better. She was every bit as tight as I remembered her and she reacted to my every thrust with that familiar mixture of pleasure and pain I had grown to adore. If I were not already attached I would have proposed marriage there and then. Right in the middle of it. Instead I reiterated afterwards how we ought to meet up more often.

Basking in the bittersweet afterglow of the best sex I'd had in ages, I wondered whether she was ‘seeing’ anyone as she put it. And if so, who? And how many someones? There was markedly less of the carefree bachelorette about her, which lead to the conclusion that she was in a relationship of some kind. I liked her, but in fact I found myself indifferent to whether or not she was. For that afternoon she belonged to me and me alone.

I cherished the bliss of her presence as we momentarily recaptured the lustful hours we’d shared that summer so many years ago. But because it was an isolated moment, the intimacy and eroticism were only made that much more intense.

This story is protected by International Copyright Law, by the author, all rights reserved. If found posted anywhere other than Lushstories.com with this note attached, it has been posted without my permission.

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Comments(12)

Jack_42
Posted 31 Mar 2013 06:14
You got me hard again. You are very good at writing from a male perspective.
underthehood
Posted 20 May 2012 06:54
A quickie well narrated !! Great job, Harbour.
swollen
Posted 24 Feb 2012 22:54
'I cherished the bliss of her presence' - I love that line. Your writing style injects passion and emotion Harbour, the two essential elements of quality erotica. Well done.
Alphamagus
Posted 05 Dec 2011 23:04
Wow, I read this in my car whilst waiting for my colleague...How the hell can I drive to work now? Xx
Gramps
Posted 04 Dec 2011 20:47
Nice. Well written and told in a smooth, free flowing manner; so smooth, in fact, that I didn't know during the first half of the story if the narator was female or male.
ibee
Posted 01 Dec 2011 12:26
Wow...I bee liking your stories, your writings, getting better each time.TY
nazhinaz
Posted 01 Dec 2011 06:54
Beautifully expressed, lot of sex but more focused on emotional description. 5
lensman
Posted 30 Nov 2011 23:56
beautifully written and so erotic.

Dani
Posted 30 Nov 2011 21:40
Another beautiful story. You've done it again!

DLizze
Posted 30 Nov 2011 18:33
"We both found equal pleasure in voicing our desires, an area we had never explored with each other before." Sometimes we need distance, in order to express ourselves openly. Well done,and highly believable.
LauraLee_sugah
Posted 30 Nov 2011 15:55
nicely done....
sohochap
Posted 30 Nov 2011 15:30
Short, but so very sweet. Harbour you have such a deft touch with the pen that I cannot but believe your talents are not limited to the imagination, but extend to the realization.
 

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