The break up happened more than a week ago and I missed her. I didn't know what hit me and suddenly I had this tremendous void in my life. Seemed like yesterday we were best friends, now I didn't even know if we'd ever talk again. But I was persistent. The same persistency which probably caused the break up had now gotten me back into her life. And we did start talking, and I still loved her. The next logical step, (at least in my mind) was to see her. She had reservations, as I knew she would. Her reservations were not without merit. No matter what happened between us to cause the break up, (which I still don't know) I knew what didn't cause it; the physical part of our relationship. From day one, we clicked. Right down to the point of being synchronized sleepers. We'd lie down at night and our bodies would naturally entwine. And without fail, every night, our bodies would become one, . . . many times. Amazingly, she was the one woman who never satisfied me. No matter how many times we fucked, I wanted her, needed to have her, that much more.
But now, she was afraid to see me. So, we talked on the phone. Our conversations throughout our relationship were almost as good as the sex. We'd talk for hours some times. Her voice, that giggle, the way she'd roll her eyes or smack my arm at some ridiculous comment I just made. She'd stimulate my mind and I'd want her. It was a chain reaction, stimulate the mind, goose bumps down my spine, then the cock would start to twitch. She called it "Thumper" when it would do that. And she always seemed to know when it did and would happily release it from its restraints. For my birthday she bought me some underwear she thought I'd look sexy it. Hey, that's fine with me; anything to make her happy. The only problem with this particular style of briefs was when I got an erection; which, being around Melody, was quite often. Limp, the briefs would allow my cock to hang just a bit. So, when I did get excited and started to grow, it would grow downward most of the time, down my leg, which is somewhat uncomfortable. That didn't last long, coming to my rescue, she would just reach down, grab that thing and point it north. She'd take her hand out, pet it as though it were a puppy and say, "There, is that better?"
God, I loved her touch. But now, I was limited to the phone. We'd talk for hours into the night about everything. Yes, everything! But now, it was me making sure my cock was comfortable. She was incredible. I could tell she was playing with herself while we talked. Her breathing would quicken. Little "Mmmmph" sounds were barely audible. I knew she was biting into her shoulder when I heard those sounds. She is somewhat vocal when she cums and since she still lives with her parents she muffles the screams anyway she can. Even if it means drawing blood. I know, I have the scars to prove it.
So, we were friends again, even if only over the phone. I did want to see her though. It took a while but I convinced her that we could do this. Her only response, which she kept repeating, was, "Okay, but friends don't fuck!"
I never understood that. I'd remained friends with many of my ex-girlfriends and on occasion the urge comes over you and you end up cumming all over them. I see nothing wrong with that. But I'm older than my current ex; twice her age. So, the life experience thing may have something to do with that.
"Meet me in the garage. You can get in, can't you?" was all she said before she hung up the phone. "Yeah, I can get in." I responded to the dial tone. Had to break in, but I could get in. The garage was where we lived when we were together. It was November and it was cold in that garage. I had a couple of blankets, one electric which might not do us any good. Think they turned the power off since last we were there. Didn't matter to me, just another reason to hold each other. I broke in and fumbled around in the dark. Didn't want to turn a light on because the garage was in view of her parent's house. And we didn't need any questions about what I was doing back in her life. Found an outlet to plug the electric blanket into. The little orange light never appeared. No electric! Damn, going to be a cold night. I spread that blanket on the bed, tossed another one on top of that. Nice and cozy, probably not! My cell phone rang.
"Did you get in?" she asked.
"Yeah, I'm here." It amazed her that I could get in anywhere. Living in the streets for so many years, one learns to be inventive. I think that was part of her attraction to me. The phone went dead and I waited. A couple minutes passed and the door opened. She, in sweat pants and sweatshirt, had her bag that she usually carried. This was a good thing, I thought. She was ready for a long night. Without saying a word she took candles from it and placed them back where they were when last we were together. She fumbled for a while and asked, "You got any matches?"
I went over to where we kept the lighter before. It was still there. Damn, it was as though nothing change. And there I was, hoping the last week was nothing but a nightmare. I lit the candles and turned to her. And once again I fell in love with her all over again. I walked toward her to hug her.
She gently pushed me back. "Just talk. Friends don't fuck."
Apparently that was her new catch phrase, which woke me back to the nightmare.
"How have you been?" was all I could think of. I wanted to hold her. If I could just get my arms around her, maybe, . . . I don't know.
She started to complain about work. Work was always a good subject to get a conversation going. After a while, the mood lightened and we started to laugh. Sitting on the bench, it was obvious she was cold. I know I was.
"Want me to get a blanket for you?"
She didn't say a word, just shook her head no, then walked to the bed and got under the blankets.
I stayed on the bench, not wanted to ruin a nice mood.
