As often happens, life interferes with love, and it does so when you would least desire for it to interfere. I had met and loved Kristen, and we had loved together, and so many things had been said and promised and alluded to. Then, business called me away for several months of travel. Up and down the east coast. Through the southern states. There lived a conspiracy against my ever returning to the Pacific Northwest. Until one day, early in summer, business would again send me to southern Oregon.

I was concerned about seeing her. We had stayed in touch, but our businesses, too, conspired together to keep us apart. Because of the pressures, I had not called, and now several weeks had passed with no contact. I was not looking forward to our initial conversation.

"This is Kristen," said the voice on the cell phone. "Hello?"

"Hi, Kristen, this is Stan."

"Hi, Stan, where are you? And what are you doing, and who are you doing it with?" She spoke clearly into the phone with her business tone and a smile in her voice.

"Actually, I just landed at the airport, care to have lunch?" I replied.

"Love to, if I can have an hour to get some things off my desk." Her answer relieved me. I was afraid that she would have other things to do after my extended absence from her life.

"Where would you like to meet?" I asked.

"I'll pick you up at the airport."

"Great, I will make some calls and be waiting out front." And I closed the phone.

Just over an hour later, her white SUV pulled up and I slid into the passenger seat after depositing my bag in the back seat. "Where are you staying?" she asked as I leaned across the seat for a quick kiss.

"I haven't decided yet," I said "Probably the Windmill or one of those places near here."

"Okay, then, where to for lunch?" she asked.

"I am at your mercy, M'lady, you pick."

"Not wanting to make decisions, are we?" She smiled.

"Nope, just want to look at you while you drive." I smiled back and settled in to admire her curves. She was wearing a lightweight summer dress in a pretty yellow color that contrasted wonderfully with her tan legs because the skirt had ridden up as she drove. A pair of delicate white sandals and matching purse did much to add to the very alluring picture I was being presented with.

As she negotiated traffic in the small town, she cast me an occasional sidelong glance and finally asked. "So, where have you been? And why have I heard so little from you since your last visit?"

"So much going on, and as time passed… I wanted to call, and I kept putting it off. Then I didn't want to deal with possible anger and hurt feelings.

"Time continued to slip away, and finally, when the time came to come here, so much time had passed that I felt, well, I am kind of rambling, aren't I?"

"Squirming is more like it." She laughed. "I like that in a man. Especially when he is dead wrong and knows it."

"I truly apologize, there is no excuse and I should have called more often," I said with a heavy sigh.

"You are forgiven, this time. But," she looked at me a long time this time. "I want you to know that I am not your occasional blow-into-town fuck, and I will not be treated like it." Her tone and the steely look in her eyes signaled that she meant business, and all I could do was sit and accept the chastisement. No matter the truth of my feelings for her, I had not treated her properly. She had every right to be downright angry enough not to see me again. I was certainly pleased that she seemed willing to let the matter drop after that.

Lunch was at a sidewalk café and the time we spent was lighthearted and pleasant. As the after-dinner coffee was being served, I asked her what her plans were for the balance of the day.

"Nothing, really, I thought we might take a drive. There is a house I would love to show you, just because I built it, not because I want you to buy it." With that, she grabbed the check and would not let me pay.

The house she had built was truly special, custom in every way. As we strolled through it, my mind naturally envisioned the last-- or should I say, the first-- house we looked at together. The memory elicited a response from my libido that was both instant and apparent. Kristen looked at me, puzzled, and then smiled and said, "Where did you go?"

"Back a few months," I said, smiling sheepishly.

"Hmmm," she said. "Come here, I want to show you my favorite place."

She led the way out through the slider into the backyard. I was truly impressed: in-ground pool, deck, and against the house, a grape arbor with table and chairs affording a cool, shady place to dine or just relax. With an adjoining hot tub that was completely secluded from any prying eyes inside or outside the house.

We stood, overlooking the backyard, me slightly behind her with the afternoon breeze sending her perfume into my head and drawing me to her. I stepped up behind her, putting my hands on her shoulders and pulling her back against me. She didn't resist as I buried my face in her hair and kissed her just behind the ear.

She turned and looked up at me, placing her hand against my chest. Searching my eyes, she stood silently, appraising me with her stare.

"Tell me I'm not," she said. "Tell me I am more than that to you."

Those hazel eyes, boring into my soul, seeing the truth. When her lips touched mine, it was like the time had never passed. The kiss was passionate, insistent.

Intense fire raged in my stomach, my loins. My hands were tangled in her hair, pulling her to me, while deep within my being rose a craving to possess her and make her mine again.

Her passion ignited. She was biting my lip, tearing at my back, moaning my name, gasping. My hands pulled her sweet summer dress up, granting access to her bare bottom for my searing touch. I spun her around and pushed her back onto the table, kissing my way down her neck to her breasts. The straps of her dress fell down from her shoulders; breasts were freed from the restraint of the bodice.

Her knees slid up each side of my torso as she unbuckled my belt and unzipped my slacks, the soles of her sandals against my sides as she pressed downward and my slacks fell. I always went commando, so her legs wrapped around my waist and she pulled me down. My entry was effortless, her position was perfectly aligned and my first thrust took me into her completely. The fit was perfect, her heat intoxicating as we began to writhe together in a frenzied dance of love. This woman was to me like no other woman had ever been-- she was my perfect counterpart.

Her cries began to crescendo. There was a single note, starting as a low moan and rising both in pitch and volume until it was snuffed out as her breathing ceased and she trembled in the throes of her climax. Clawing at my back and sides, her hands gripped my shirt tightly as she slammed against me over and over. At last, utterly spent, she collapsed back on the table, exhaling a long, slow breath.

It has been said that when a Libra male and female come together carnally, that they can rewrite the book on sensuality.  I don't know about rewriting the entire book, but we certainly penned a few amazing chapters in our brief times together.

The kiss was more love than passion now, as we floated back to earth from the heights we had just experienced. I pulled back from her and straightened up, taking her hands in mine to help her up.

She slid off the table and sat in one of the chairs. Still holding my hands, she drew me to her and engulfed me with her mouth. I had just filled her and she was savoring the mixture of our fluids as if they were the sweetest honey. Pulling me back to arousal, she sucked until my hard cock had forgotten that it had just cum and started looking forward to the next one.

She stood and, with one fluid movement, pulled the dress over her head, laying it on the table and leaning on the table, her tight ass beckoning to me as my gaze traveled up the shapely curve of her legs. I pulled my shirt off and stepped out of my slacks. She moved her ass back and forth and hissed, "Now, do it again, now, come on..."

I slid into her in one plunge as she groaned her delight, a deep guttural groaning that was feral in its origin, as the wild side of her captivated me within her and dragged me along to the next level of eroticism...

My hard cock plunged into her as she ground against me until I could feel her ass grasping at my pubic bone. As she was moving against me, she reached under her and drew some of her moisture out with her fingers, taking it to her ass and coating it with her own juices. She slipped her finger in and out-- more fluids, more lubrication, hotter and hotter. She pulled off me and, as I fell out of her, she reached back between her legs, gripped my shaft and positioned it at her back door.

She moved it slightly back and forth, inserting the tip into her. When the head passed her sphincter, she placed her hands back on the table and pushed back, impaling herself on me. She cried out in passion as she felt my cock invade her bottom to the point of splitting it open.

Grinding back against me, faster and faster, reaching for her orgasm, she chanted, “Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me!” over and over in time with the thrusts.  

She plunged forward and back, screaming my name, and as I erupted she wailed and came. I had my hand under her on her pussy and felt the juices gush forth from her as her climax reached its highest point.

Her collapse was total. She fell forward on the table, pulling herself off me and, totally spent, she lay there, breathing deeply.

Some minutes later, she pulled herself upright again and, turning to face me, encircled me with her arms and said, "Now, repeat after me: I will never keep Kristen waiting for this long again."