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Monica - Part 2

"Reuniting with an old college friend."

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I bolted upright. My heart was pounding and my cock was in Monica's hand. She was sitting on the edge of the bed slowly stroking me.

"Shh, it's okay," she said soothingly, "it's just me." She smiled warmly looking down at my cock and then back into my eyes. "I couldn't resist any longer. I hope you don't mind..."

Adrenalin was coursing through my veins, startled awake from my dream and my heart pounding in my chest like a child's toy drum. It took what seemed an eternity to get my bearings, come to grips with my surroundings and my surprise guest sitting on the edge of the bed. It took much longer than it should have, in fact, given the torch I had carried for her over the years. Yet here she was before me, holding me in her hand and gently tugging on me like a taffy pull.

I looked at her in the dim light. She had left the door ajar and the light from the kitchen spilled through the opening across the floor, halfway across the bed, her features casting a fine shadow. There was just enough light to make out the smile on her face and the shape of her breasts as they strained against her robe.

I slowly began to relax and enjoy the slow, deliberate motions of her hand. Emboldened, I leaned forward to kiss her, but she stopped me by placing her hand on my chest and slowly pushed me back on the bed.

Her smile became a wicked grin and she looked down at her hand slowly tugging my shaft. She was taking her time, pausing now and then as if she were inspecting her work to be sure she was being careful and performing her actions just so. With her other hand she reached up and pulled at the tie on her robe. Her breasts gently swaying free from the fabric, nipples erect and casting distinct shadows on her skin. Again I reached out to touch her, but she quickly intercepted my hand, looked into my eyes and shook her head slowly from side to side; no. I acquiesced and set my hands by my side.

She then returned to her task, methodically stroking me, and keeping a perfect rhythm. Her gaze moved from my face to my cock and back again, gauging my reaction and adjusting her timing to my breathing and the rocking of my hips. Her thumb and forefinger had formed a perfect circle to tease the head of my cock and she was slowly playing a game of ring toss, starting at the top and settling at the base in a way that drove me mad with desire.

And then she stopped stroking for just a moment and milked a drop of precum from the head of my cock, gathered it on her forefinger and then slowly slipped her finger into her mouth. Tasting it, savoring it, swirling it around as if she were at a wine tasting. She lingered that way for a moment, gazing down at the throbbing shaft in front of her as if she were playing chess and debating her next move. A moment later, her hand was wrapped around me again, but this time her motions were much faster and deliberate.

I let out a moan and pushed my hips toward her hand. Almost as soon our time together began, I could sense it was ending.

“Come on,” she whispered and leaned forward to rub the head of my swollen cock against the soft flesh of her breast. “Come on...”

I watched as she tugged me and rubbed me against her breast and nipple, and the moment I looked up into her eyes and saw them look back into mine my orgasm consumed me. With a soft grunt escaping my lips I shot long thick ropes of cum onto her breast. I continued to watch as it cascaded down over her soft flesh, glistening in the soft light and ran down over her hand.

She held her gaze and her hand on my cock as I slowly softened in her fingers, her breast glistening and her fingers glazed. Slowly releasing her grasp, she raised her hand to her breast and rubbed her slick fingers over her nipple, massaging my cum into her skin.

When she had finished, she gathered her robe around her, leaned over me and softly kissed me on the cheek.

“Go back to sleep,” she whispered and slipped quietly out of the room, pulling the door closed behind her.

I lay still on the bed, my mind reeling as I tried to comprehend what had just occurred between us and, more importantly, why. I looked at the clock: 2:30 in the morning. I lay there for what seemed to be an eternity, and wondered how I could I possibly fall back to sleep? But eventually sleep came.

When I awoke around 7:30, the morning sun slanting into the room felt warm against my skin. I had slept much longer than I had intended; hoping to get an early start to the day. I quickly slipped on my clothes and wandered into the bathroom to wash up. I ran my wet fingers through my hair so I didn't look like a complete slob and made my way out to the kitchen.

“Good morning!” Monica said with a smile. “Coffee?”

She was behaving so casually, as if nothing at all had happened a few hours ago. And here I was still struggling to grasp what, if anything, it meant and to suppress those feelings that I had buried long ago.

“Uh, coffee would be great thanks.” I replied with a smile. I was an uncaffeinated, a bit self-conscious and feeling very insecure. Not my typical Saturday morning.

She placed a cup of black coffee in front of me. “Still drinking it black?”

“Thanks.” I smiled, struggling to relax.

I began wondering if I should mention the magnificent hand job she had administered, or perhaps ask for another? A blow job would be great, or even... I chuckled to myself and pushed that thought aside. That would be bad form. If she wants to talk about it fine, but I'll wait and let her bring it up. Raising the cup to my lips, I took a sip of coffee and felt the deliciously warm liquid begin to work its morning magic.

“Where's Mike?” I asked looking over my cup at her.

“He went over to his dad's to help replace a toilet,” she said over her shoulder, “His father's getting up there in his years, so he goes over there a lot to help out.”

She was busy cleaning up a few leftover dishes from the night before and was moving about the kitchen gracefully and with purpose.

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She was wearing pale blue pajama bottoms and a gray sweatshirt. I marveled at how she could make something so plain look so damned sexy. My eyes followed her around, wondering if she was wearing anything under her pajama bottoms. It was obvious that she wasn't wearing a bra; her breasts moved freely as she went about her work. I felt myself starting to get aroused while looking at her.

Boldly, I slipped up behind her, my hands sliding up around her cupping her breasts from behind. She gasped, and spun around kissing me passionately, pressing against me. Our hands frantically grabbing at clothing, flailing and tugging at fabric, exposing flesh that would be consumed in short order. My hand slid from her breast for the briefest moment but she grabbed it and placed it back, squeezing the soft flesh with her hand on mine.

Breaking the kiss, she whispered in my ear, “More... more... like more...”

“Would you like more?”

Snapping me out of my daydream, I found she was holding up the coffee pot, looking at me with a puzzled look on her face.

I could feel my face burning. Embarrassed and feeling foolish I mumbled “What?”

“Would you like more coffee?” she laughed holding the pot out toward me. “Where the hell were you just then?” she giggled as she refilled my cup.

“I was just thinking of what I need to do before my flight leaves,” I lied. “I have to return the rental, get back to the hotel to shower, checkout and of course get to the airport.”

“I'll come with you,” she offered.

“What? How? I mean...” my voice trailing off. What does she mean come with me?

“It'll be fun!” she tossed the dish towel on the counter. “I'll just take a cab back here from the airport after seeing you off.” She paused and added, “I'd just like to spend a little more time with you while I can. You know? Let me go get dressed...”

She spun around and was gone. Just like that. I was left a bit dazed, and delighted to have a few moments more in her company. And as always, wondering what it all means. "Why does it have to mean anything?" I debated silently.

I stood there a moment longer and then placed my coffee cup in the sink. When I turned around she was standing there in sandals, a knee length skirt and a blouse that fit her just right. Perfectly put together and all ready to go. Classic Monica I thought with a smile, and she never looked prettier to me or more desirable.

I suppose I was staring a bit to long because she hooked her thumb over her shoulder, gesturing toward the door.

“Soo... are we going?” she asked with a sly smile, and then turned leading the way. I simply had no choice but to follow her.

Upon reaching the car, I opened the passenger side door for her, admiring the way the hem of her skirt revealed her thigh as she got in. She smiled up at me and mouthed thank you as I closed the door.

Within a few minutes we merged out into traffic on the highway and were speedily making our way from Redwood City to SFO to drop off the rental car. We drove in silence for the most part with the exception of a few casual exchanges regarding the scenery or the traffic.

Noticing the airport exit coming up, I looked over my shoulder before changing lanes and suddenly felt her hand on my leg. She began leaning toward me, her hand rubbing me through my trousers and within the blink of an eye her head was in my lap. I could feel her warm breath through the material of my trousers and found myself struggling to concentrate and maintain control of the car.

At the bottom of the exit, I stopped at the light, signaling for a left turn into the rental car lot. Monica still had her head in my lap and was teasing me relentlessly. My hand was on her head as she playfully nipped at me through the fabric. I glanced over to my right in time to see a police officer on motorcycle pull alongside the car, stopping and waiting for the light.

“Keep your head down!” I whispered. “There is a cop beside us.”

And that started her giggling, her face bouncing off of my crotch as she was consumed by laughter.

Much to my relief, the light turned green and the motorcycle cop sped through the intersection. She sat up in her seat, abandoning the idea of sucking me off in the car but continued giggling. She was adorable. We turned into the rental car lot and pulled into the garage, following the arrows toward the proper drop off location.

Once out of the car, we looked at each other and started laughing again. I instinctively held out my hand to her, and we made our way toward the drop off kiosk. A moment later, with receipt in hand, we found ourselves in the courtesy van making our way to the airport hotel. She had her arm locked around mine and was leaning quietly against me with her head resting on my shoulder. I felt a simple comfort overwhelm me at that moment and hoped it would never end.

The hotel was busy with guests checking in and out, milling about and pestering the concierge. We wove our way quietly through the lobby, my arm around her and headed toward the elevators. We waited quietly alongside an elderly couple, and followed them onto the elevator taking our place alongside them. As the car began its ascent, Monica placed her hand on my ass giving me a firm squeeze. It startled me and I jumped, catching my breath for a moment. I couldn't help but notice the disapproving looks out of the corner of my eye, and I could tell Monica was giggling again.

When we got to the room I opened the door and let her walk in first. Stepping past her, I went to the desk and placed my wallet on top of some papers as a reminder not to leave them behind. I then turned around to see her leaning seductively against the door. That familiar grin spread across her lips as one hand reached for the hemline of her skirt. She very slowly raised it exposing her legs, and as it crept higher, she beckoned me with her other hand.

“Hungry?” She smiled.

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Written by happyidiot
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