George had been my best friend since grade school, so when his invitation to his fortieth birthday party arrived, I eagerly accepted. Because so many family members and old friends were attending, the celebration was held at a local party center. It was fun reconnecting with everyone, but I found myself wondering whether George’s cousin Karen had been invited. Ten minutes later I got my answer.

The moment Karen walked through the party room door, the years collapsed like a house of cards. She scanned the crowd, and when her eyes found mine, that warm smile—the one I'd memorized from a photograph twenty years ago—spread across her lips. Her short blonde hair was elegantly styled, but beneath the graceful lines time had added, I could still see the girl who had once made my heart race.

We traded pleasantries over glasses of wine at the bar. She told me about her career, her divorce, and her son in college. I shared the condensed version of my own life. But our words were just the surface; underneath, something else hummed like a live wire.

"Let's get some fresh air," she said, touching my arm. The simple contact sent a familiar jolt through me. It brought about a flashback to our past.

Outside, the evening air carried the last warmth of summer. Karen turned to face me, her eyes glinting with mischief. "Remember the Pontiac LeMans?"

"How could I forget? It was our private spot for making out." I smiled, the memory flooding back; her sitting on my lap, her lips on mine, the windows fogged with our heat.

"Yes, things got pretty intense. You wanted me to go further, but I told you I wanted to save myself for marriage." Karen laughed. "And I did. Turns out I wasted my time. My marriage was a bust. He could never satisfy me." She looked at me meaningfully. "Truth is, I was so hot for you. I could feel your hardness pressed into my butt cheeks when I sat on your lap. It took a lot of willpower to not let you deflower me."

"Well, the compromise was very good,” I said. “You let me play with your breasts, and you jerked me off."

Karen laughed again, lighter this time. "I remember seeing how big you are. You were the first boyfriend I ever did that to. I naively thought your penis was the normal size of all men." She shook her head. "Boy, was I ever wrong."

Karen guided me into the parking lot. She stopped beside a familiar shape; a beautifully maintained Pontiac LeMans. "Kiss me," she blurted out.

I didn't hesitate. My hands found her waist, and her lips met mine with a hunger that surprised us both. She tasted of wine and nostalgia, her tongue sliding against mine with the confidence of experience. She cooed softly, a sound that vibrated through me.

She pulled back with a glint in her eyes. "Do you know where we are?"

I looked at her, puzzled.

“You're standing next to the doorway to the past,” she said with a sly smile. "This is my car. My old car. I had it restored and kept it." She opened the driver's side door. "Do you want to relive the past?"

I slipped behind the steering wheel, settling into the familiar bench seat. Karen opened the passenger door and slid across the worn upholstery, positioning herself on my lap just as she had twenty years ago. I felt my cock stiffen instantly, pressing against the curve of her prominent butt cheeks.

"Ooh, I remember that familiar feeling poking at my backside," she quipped while grinding gently.

We kissed again, deeper this time. Her hand found the back of my neck, pulling me closer as her hips rolled against me. When we finally broke apart, both breathless, she whispered, "You are such a great kisser. I would have to change my panties after our dates."

She pulled back and, without ceremony, unbuttoned her blouse. The pale skin of her stomach gave way to a lacy bra that she unfastened with practiced ease, letting her breasts spill free. They were fuller than I remembered, tipped with dusky nipples already hardened in the cool air.

"Play with them. Suck them like you used to."

I needed no further invitation. My mouth found her nipple, and she gasped, her fingers threading through my hair. She arched into me, moaning as I sucked, my hands cupping the soft weight of her breasts. "Oh God, that's it," she breathed.

Then she slid off my lap, landing gracefully on her knees on the floorboard. Her fingers worked the button of my slacks, then the zipper, and I lifted my hips to help her free my straining erection. Her hand wrapped around me, stroking slowly, and I hissed at the contact.

She leaned in, and I felt the wet heat of her tongue trace the head. "You know that other thing you wanted me to do, but I was too innocent to try it?" Her eyes lifted to meet mine, glittering with playful intent. "I'm not that innocent anymore."

Her mouth descended, taking me halfway in one fluid motion. I groaned, my head falling back against the seat as she worked me with an expert rhythm, tongue swirling, cheeks hollowing. The years of fantasy paled compared to the reality of her skill.

"Oh god, Karen… suck my cock," I heard myself say, the words raw and unguarded.

She complied eagerly, taking me deeper. I felt the familiar coiling tension build. "I'm going to…” is all I managed to get out before I exploded. Waves of pleasure crashed through me as I spilled into her mouth. She held me there, hands gripping my thighs, and when I finally opened my eyes, she pulled back just enough to show me her open mouth. I saw my cum pooled on her tongue. Then, with deliberate slowness, she swallowed.

I pulled her close and kissed her passionately; the taste of my cum lingered in her mouth. It stirred my passion for Karen even more.

We stayed tangled together, her cheek against my thigh, my fingers stroking her hair. She exhaled contentedly. "Happy birthday to me, I suppose."

"I thought it was your cousin George's birthday,” I remarked.

She grinned, wiping her lips. "But you gave me a present."

We dressed leisurely, stealing kisses and laughing softly at the absurdity of it all. It was Pat, George's sister, who knocked on the car window. Her face was a mix of concern and knowing amusement. By then, we were presentable. Karen snuggled against my side, her hand resting on my thigh. She waved at Pat with unshakable composure.

"Just catching up on old times," I said, and Karen's fingers squeezed my leg.