Another story with names changed to protect the not so innocent. Partly truth and partly fiction, I'm not telling you where the fantasy begins :)
This story is one of the hardest I have ever written; not only is it a mixture of reality and fantasy, but it is also about a person in my life I don’t talk about much. When I was 17 I met a boy named Steve who at the time I thought was the love of my life, then realized couldn’t have been. Now here I sit 15 years later remarried and wondering if I had been right about what I thought Steve could be.
In order for this to make sense I have to give a little bit of back story. Steve was a spoiled rich kid who got away with everything and got everything he wanted, me included. After about a year of dating we got engaged and married within about six months. Everything we did had passion, from the sex to the fights. Because we were only 18, neither of us had the maturity to handle the relationship. We were playing house in a 3500 square foot colonial that his parents bought for us with no clue what we were supposed to be doing.
Because Steve’s family was loaded, there was no struggle to make it together. The accountant paid all the bills for us; we had a house manager to take care of all the maintenance and shopping, and we both had assistants to take care of our day to day lives. With everything handed to me, I valued Steve’s money more than his company, mostly because the money was there more than Steve was. It was too easy to go to bed alone while he hung out with his friends, living the life of a college freshman and forgetting he had a wife at home. Right before Christmas the year we turned 19, I got fed up and moved back in with my parents; leaving my allowance and assistant behind. The divorce went through fast enough, the house was owned by his parents in a trust and we had no kids. 6 weeks later I started the spring semester of my sophomore year in college as a divorcee.
One good thing happened during our short marriage, which brings the back story full circle to current times. My best friend, Gina had an adorable son. Jimmy, who is now taller than I am. Steve and I are his godparents. This past Saturday was our godson’s confirmation and celebration dinner. Even though Steve is his godfather, he hasn’t been around for any parties or milestones since the divorce, he always said because he didn’t want to make anyone uncomfortable trying to mediate between us, but I think it was more about not wanting to face me. Anyway, I walked into the church for the service and saw Steve. My current husband, Rich was parking the truck and didn’t know Steve was there yet. I got weak in the knees and felt the butterflies start up. Steve was just as attractive, if not more so, than the last time I saw him about 5 years ago. He walked up and kissed my cheek, telling me how great I looked and asking how Rich was. I gave him the polite answer and hurried away.
Rich couldn’t stay for the celebration dinner which left Steve and I essentially alone surrounded by Gina’s family. We chatted over dinner, mostly about generic stuff; definitely avoiding our relationship or any we have had since the divorce. It was like a strained first date, the conversation went nowhere and we were held hostage by fear. After dinner was over, I started walking with Gina to her car, since she was going to drive me home. Steve said since it was out of her way and he lived out near me now he would drive me home. I reluctantly agreed; we could barely talk over dinner, what would we talk about in the next half hour on the drive home? Of course he pulled up in a brand-new black BMW X5, he always had nice cars to impress daddy’s clients. He opened my door like a gentleman, and closed it once I was settled.
The drive to my house was filled with Steve apologizing for being an ass when we were married and neglecting me. He kept telling me how sorry he was he let me go and he missed me. I mostly kept quiet; I didn’t know how to respond. I’ve been married to Rich for 6 years and we’ve been together for 12. Information like this from Steve would have been much better when we were married. Even though these apologies came too late to save the relationship, they began melting the anger and bitterness I carried in my heart. My resolve softened as I listened to Steve pour his heart out to me, he seemed genuinely sorry for being a stupid teenager and ignoring me.
When we pulled up to my house I thanked him quickly and rushed into the house to avoid the conversation continuing. I got a few texts later that night from Steve, but nothing as emotional as his apologies that evening. I heard nothing from him yesterday and assumed he took the hint and quietly snuck away to disappear again for another 4 years. I was wrong . . .
I woke this morning to the dog barking at the front door where a delivery man stood holding a large box for me. When I opened it, it was a beautiful arrangement of orchids, my favorite flower. The card was from Steve; he invited me to lunch and was sending a car and driver to pick me up at 11am. It was 10 already; I had to get ready quickly. Thankfully, Rich was at work today so I didn’t have to explain any of that. I still don’t know why I agreed to the lunch . . . I knew things wouldn’t end as neatly as I hoped they would.
The car arrived promptly at 11, just as it always did when he sent them for me. The drive took about 90 minutes and when we stopped, I was in front of the restaurant where Steve and I had our first date 15 years ago. Chuckling to myself, I went in to see the entire restaurant, which should have been quite busy with businessmen and trophy wives lunching, was empty; Steve had rented the entire restaurant for just the two of us. He of course looked even better than he did on Saturday, and my knees got weaker than they have been in years.
“Emily, you look stunning, as always.” Steve said, brushing the hair back and kissing my cheek. He started innocently enough, but I was smart enough to know it wouldn’t stay innocent.
“Thank you Steve, you look very nice as well.” I responded, trying to mask the quiver in my voice.
We sat to eat, and course after course of amazing food was brought to us. Steve knew all the “right” wines to order for the meal to taste even better. He talked about his parents and the business and how it was doing; I talked about finishing my Masters and work. He asked about Rich and how things were going. I knew he was looking for any crack in the relationship to exploit.
It was tough because with me just finishing grad school, the bills had gotten a little out of hand and we were just starting to get caught up. Everyone knows that when money is tight, there is a strain on the relationship; Steve picked up on the fact that Rich and I had been fighting more lately and used it to his advantage.
“Emily, if you need money you know I will help, right?”
“Steve, we are not having this conversation. I am not about to ask my ex-husband to help my current husband pay the bills.”
“Okay, Okay. Forget I offered. I didn’t mean to offend you; I just know that you shouldn’t have to worry about money.”
Lunch continued and my anger started melting with Steve making me laugh and remember why I fell in love with him in the first place. Every time he laughed, his blue eyes sparkled and danced in the sunlight and I couldn’t help thinking about the good times we had.
My mind drifted back to the hot summer nights we spent laying on the deck of his boat in the channel watching the stars. He always knew that a clear starry night on the boat was my weakness. His hands brushed the hair to one side as he gently kissed the nape of my neck and sparks shot down to my toes. I quickly snapped back to reality and realized that Steve had just kissed my neck and those sparks I just felt weren’t in my memory.
“Steve, what the fuck are you doing?” I asked pulling away from him.
“Sorry Emily, I don’t know what came over me” He said, trying to cover his tracks.
I could feel my panties getting moist, I tried fighting it, but I knew there was no recovery; that spot on my neck was my number one weak spot, one kiss and I had no choice but to surrender. “Steve, you know we can’t . . .” my voice trailed off.
Steve put his finger to my lips. “Shhhhhhh. It’s okay. I won’t make you do anything you don’t want to do.” He said as he pulled my chair out, allowing me to stand up.
The angel and devil appeared in my mind, just like in the cartoons, fighting my mental battle for me while my hormones ran wild throughout my body. You can’t sleep with Steve, you’re married to Rich and you’re not a cheater
said the angel. Rich doesn’t worship you and you deserve to be worshiped
said the devil. They went back and forth for what seemed like an eternity, and I couldn’t make up my mind. Every touch from Steve sent electricity coursing through my body, but every hug from Rich made even the rainiest day seem beautiful.
I made what I may consider later to be an error in judgment and went with the hormones. Two hours later, I got out of Steve’s car in what used to be my garage; I still can’t believe he kept the house. As we kissed and ripped clothing off each other, our feet followed the familiar path to what was no longer our bedroom. When the door to the bedroom opened, I saw the rose petals on the bed, he had planned this and I didn’t care. Steve always knew how to adapt the situation to get what he wanted.
My back landed on the bed as Steve kissed and caressed his way down my body, removing my bra and panties as he went. He paused to look at my clean-shaven mound before gently opening the lips and slowly tracing my slit with his tongue. My back arched as the pleasure shot up my spine. My legs instinctively spread wider as my fingers ground into the back of his head, pulling him deeper into me. His hands reached around to cup my hips as he knelt at the foot of the bed and ravaged my clit with his tongue. My breathing grew rapid as his tongue moved faster and more forcefully; this orgasm was on his terms with no question. I screamed out his name as the pleasure forced me over the edge; at the very peak of my orgasm, I felt his teeth gently bite down on my clit, forcing a second orgasm to come before the first had ended.
As I trembled with pleasure, Steve slid behind me on the bed and started stroking my hair as he held me. “I guess you like that.” He said as he hugged me. I couldn’t say anything at that moment; my brain hadn’t completely restarted function yet. I felt him growing harder against my leg and without thinking pushed him onto his back as I straddled him.
Slowly lowering myself onto him, feeling my lips wrap around his hardened cock as I pulled him deeper, I had no doubts that this is where I was supposed to be. We fit together like two puzzle pieces, like hand in glove, like a lock and key. How could I have ever wanted to leave him, to leave this? Waves of pleasure covered me as I surrendered my body to him. My hips rocked against his, rubbing my clit against him as I made sloppy figure eights with my hips to increase the pleasure. His hands dug into the flesh of my hips as I teased him, refusing his release. Every ridge of his cock rubbed against the nerve endings inside me, igniting a fire that hadn’t burned in years.
We moved as one, anticipating the movement the other was about to make. Together, we would go almost to the edge and slowly back down; delaying the release. I could feel him grow even harder inside me; I was so wet that the sheets beneath us were soaked. Sweat covered both our bodies and our breathing was rapid. Not wanting to wait any longer, I squeezed my muscles around him and ground against him as fast as I could; the first one may have been on his terms, but this one was on mine. I felt the hot sting as he exploded inside of me, and the throbbing of his cock as each consecutive shot was released. I collapsed on top of him, attempting to catch my breath.
“Oh . . . my . . . God . . .” Steve said, trying to catch his breath.
“You’re . . . welcome . . .” I responded. I rolled to the side, collapsing next to him, still panting.
Steve scooped me up and carried me to the bathroom, where he drew me a bubble bath and washed every inch of my body. “You rest in there for a few minutes while I go get clean.” He said as he jumped into the shower. The smell of my favorite lavender bubble bath filled my nose as I laid back and let the whirlpool jets release the tension in my back.
I heard the shower stop, and Steve’s wet feet on the Italian marble floor coming toward me. As I opened my eyes I saw the image I had tried to erase from my memory for the last 13 years. Steve was an amazing example of attractive. 6’6”, blonde hair, blue eyes, six pack abs, muscular arms and legs, and 11” long cock that thought that quickies never were shorter than 45 minutes to an hour. Don’t get me wrong, Rich was beautiful in his own way, but he would never meet the traditional definition of attractive. Was I so wrong to give up on Steve so quickly, especially for doing exactly what 18 and 19 year old guys do?
Before I could answer that question, Steve was behind me in the tub; his legs wrapped around my waist as his nimble fingers pinched and rolled my nipples until they were hard. I ground my ass against him and felt him hard against me again. I leaned forward and gently spread my legs, offering myself to him again. He quickly pulled the drain on the tub to let the water out while turning the handheld sprayer on. As the water drained, he adjusted the spray to the pulsating massage option and pointed it toward my clit. While the water massaged my clit, Steve slowly slid his enormous cock into my asshole.
This was something I had given up when I left; Rich did not like anal and would not do it under any circumstances. The familiar pleasure of having Steve inside me quickly reignited the fire inside me. I thrust my hips back to meet each of his thrusts, forcing him to go faster. My ass stretched to fit him for the first time in over a decade. I had forgotten how good this felt. First one smack, then another; Steve always got off on spanking me when I was in this position. I felt him push two fingers into my trembling cunt to rub my g-spot. I was swimming in pleasure and moaning loudly. The addition of the showerhead on my clit brought the orgasm on faster than either of us had planned. When the pulsation of my orgasm started I felt Steve explode inside me again. I could feel him trembling as he came down off his unexpected orgasm.
We stayed in that position while we recovered, then slowly leaned back. First I got out of the tub, then Steve. We crawled back into the bed and just held each other for at least an hour. I looked at my phone, saw what time it was and knew I had a serious decision to make; stay here and make up a story about where I was, or compose myself and go home to my husband. I chose the latter.
“Steve, listen . . . I have to go.”
“I know Emily, I know.” He said. “Do you want me to drive you or just have Ken (the driver) take you home?”
“Maybe it’s better if Ken takes me . . . “ I said while getting dressed. Steve and I both knew if he took me home that we would never make it there.
“Can we do this again sometime?” Steve asked handing me my dress.
I pretended not to hear him. “I’ll call you in a few days, and I’ll probably see you at Jimmy’s birthday dinner right?” I asked as I quickly exited the bedroom; I didn’t stay for his response.
By the time Rich got home from work, I was on the couch in my jeans and a sweat shirt, showing no indication of my expensive lunch or dangerous dessert. Even hours later I can still feel Steve inside me and wonder, should you ever give up acceptance and true love for moments of dangerous dessert?
And trust me . . . the dessert is to die for
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with this note attached, it has been posted without my permission.
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