Tami After All These Years

(Forgive me if this story starts out a little slow, but it is a true story that actually happened to me. I wanted to give the backstory so you would understand everything, especially for the following chapters.)

Life was about as good as it could be. I worked twelve to fourteen hours a day in a personally fulfilling career, lived in east Tennessee with the Smoky Mountains totally surrounding me, and made more than enough money to pay my bills, with the leftovers funding my retirement. I had a wonderful house on the edge of Gatlinburg on one of the largest lots within the city limits. And the local pipe shop supplied me with the best tobacco blend in America.

I could not ask for anything more.

Of course, I worked hard at ignoring the obvious shortcoming, and that was the fact that I lived alone. My wife of twenty-two years had left me to live with her girlfriend eight years earlier. I mean, who knew, right? I had noticed and even commented on the fact that sex was becoming less and less frequent between us, and even then only when I asked for it. Aside from the fact that asking for sex was a humiliating act, the obvious issue of her not wanting sex with me was a hard burden to bear. Once or twice a month just wasn't cutting it. And then came the attorney with the divorce papers.

Hell, I had even introduced them. But their growing friendship over the next few months never really caught my attention. Mary was a good woman and a good friend, but had apparently became a better friend to my wife than I ever suspected.

And so, at middle age, I found myself a divorced white man with assets, and with income, but with no life.

And then came the email asking me for a biographical sketch from a name I did not recognize.

After several posts back and forth, the truth came out. This was a woman from my distant past trying to discover if I was the teacher she had as a teenager. And my memories of her came tumbling forth, filling me with both excitement and fear. She celebrated her sixteenth birthday as she graduated from my class of junior high kids. It seemed evident that there was a special relationship between us, but I tried to ignore it as much as possible, knowing that this was a delicate problem that could get both of us in trouble. But she was intelligent, insightful, and had a great sense of humor, and it was simply impossible for me to not see that she was everything I wanted in a woman, even at that young age.

I moved up to high school teacher and she was again in my class, but I was never sure if that was my unconscious plan or merely a happy result of my career growth. And then came the real shock.

She had asked if she could take me to dinner for her eighteenth birthday. She claimed that we had a unique relationship and that she saw me, in spite of all the potential problems, as her best friend. Foolishly, I accepted.

Dinner was awesome in every way. She wore a dress that no eighteen year old should wear, and I couldn't take my eyes off her. After four years as her teacher, I had finally accepted that I had special feelings for her, but I could not accept that she aroused me as much as she did. She admitted that she had turned down a lucrative offer from a major New York modeling agency, and the primary reason was she didn't want to leave her home town. We talked through that decision and I saw that she was firm. And then she dropped the bomb.

"Eric, I am not a girl anymore. I am legally a woman. I just graduated in the top 2% of my class, and it was the largest graduating class in the county. I know what I want in life, and I know what I want in a man. You are everything I want in a man, and I have been in love with you for years. I want you to marry me. Would you ignore all the rules I am breaking and consent to be my husband?"

I remember very little of the next half hour, but I clearly remember two things. First, I almost passed out. Second, I got an immediate and very powerful erection thinking about our honeymoon. I mean, this was one of the most beautiful young women of my experience, with an awesome body that was every high school guy's wet dream. And I had developed special feelings for her years ago while she was still in 8th grade. Now she was 18 and I was 26, and I had just received the greatest and most exciting shock of my life. Somehow, I managed to avoid a lot of problems by declining. Yet, at the same time, I managed to create many more problems without knowing it.

The result of the evening was that I didn't see her for several years. I was never sure if that was her decision or mine. We never called or wrote, which had been a regular practice of ours. We stopped sending birthday cards and Christmas cards, which had been our custom for years. I often thought about her, and especially thought about what life would have been had we been married.

But life went on.

I got married, and I heard she was engaged to be married. Then I received a real shock. She called me and asked me to sing at her wedding. I come from a musical family and had sung with several school choirs. And I performed Handel's Messiah every Christmas with the huge production sponsored by the local chapter of the Handel Society. My wife and I had sung to each other at our wedding, but I had never sung at the wedding of anyone else. Now Tami wanted me to sing at her wedding. I was almost in shock.

The wedding went well. My solo went well. The reception afterwards went well. But all through it, my thoughts kept going back to her proposal and my refusal. Those memories invaded my thoughts every few minutes. I couldn't help but think that it could have been me up there in a tux marrying her.

After the wedding, we wrote a couple of times. She sent me some pictures from her wedding, some of which included me. And then we lost touch with each other again.

And almost thirty years later, there was that email.

It took a couple of emails back and forth before I discovered this was the Tami of my memories trying to locate the Eric of her memories. We sent several long emails, sharing our lives over the past many years. We found that we had each become divorced and that we each lived alone. We found that she was still living in central Florida and that I had moved to east Tennessee. We found that we were both pursuing successful careers. And we found that we were both happy in our current lives.

Then I called her, thinking that actually talking would be so much better than typing email messages. Her voice was just as I remembered it, full of smiles and humor and warmth. We spoke for almost three hours that first night.

And we spoke for another two hours the next night.

And then we spoke for another three hours two nights later.

It took only a few days and we seemed to have established the same deep friendship that we had shared so many years ago. And then I remembered her birthday and the fact that it was approaching in another week. I will never remember how it happened, but somehow we agreed that she should come up to Tennessee to visit me for her birthday.

Waiting those last few days for her to arrive was pure torture for me. I couldn't stop thinking about her. Thoughts of her interrupted everything I did. And since I was a writer, it became impossible for me to be productive.

We planned for her to arrive Friday evening and stay for a long weekend. Her birthday was on Saturday and I planned a special celebration. And then we planned on two more days of fun before her flight on Monday evening. And as plans go, I expected we would have a full three days renewing our relationship.

I arrived at the Knoxville Airport an hour early. I was so excited about seeing her again that I never even noticed the time until I grew impatient at the airport.

Suddenly, I felt really stupid. How could I have not noticed that I was an hour early?

When she arrived, I was not sure exactly how to greet her, and she seemed to be equally uncertain. We looked at each other, standing completely still in the middle of the airport. The pent-up excitement was obvious in both of us, but the greeting was almost chaste. A careful hug and a peck on the cheek and at least twenty seconds of silence. Then the spell was broken and we started chatting away. I took the time to properly look at her for the first time in almost thirty years.

Her face was as beautiful as ever, although it had picked up a slight scar down her left jawline. I briefly wondered about the story behind that, and then continued with my visual and enjoyable discovery of her. Her dark eyes were the same sparkling source of joy and excitement as ever, highlighted by the dark hair that surrounded them and the dark bangs that shrouded them. Her waist was almost as slim as it always was. Her ass was still awesome, although not quite as tight as I remembered.

But her boobs! Her boobs were large and full and held the same irresistible shape and size as they did more than thirty years ago when I struggled to keep my eyes off them. She had mentioned a few weeks ago that she had undergone breast reduction surgery some years back, but they were much larger than I expected. I really was no expert at judging the sizes of women's breasts, but I would put these at a D-Cup if I were to guess.

She wore a loose light blue tee shirt with a liberal political saying, reminding me that we won't talk politics this weekend. And her blue jeans were quite tight, showing off that great ass. I was almost stunned by what I saw, and more thrilled than I imagined I could be. I felt my cock begin to harden as I looked at her.

She, of course, took the time to look me over, and smiled her approval. I was still almost eight inches taller than she was. My six foot three inch frame carried 220 pounds, which was about twenty pounds more than she had last seen. I still had my full beard and it was still closely trimmed. My brown hair had turned lighter over the years, which some had claimed was the result of a little gray creeping in. But I was convinced it really was just a lighter shade of brown. And I still kept it trimmed enough to barely cover my ears and not quite touch my collar.

In short, we were pretty much the same people, physically, that we always were.

I took her to the best seafood restaurant in east Tennessee, where we continued talking nonstop over our Maine lobsters and baked potatoes. We talked the hour it took to drive to Gatlinburg, and we continued talking as I placed her luggage in one of my spare bedrooms. Then we moved to my living room, where I built a fire in the large stone fireplace. And we shared some wine and talked some more.

And when the conversation finally slowed down, there was a pause of several seconds. I looked at her and she was looking down at the floor.

"Eric, there is one question that has bothered me all these years. Why didn't you invite me to your wedding?" The question totally took me off-guard, and I had no idea how I wanted to answer it. I mean, I knew the answer -- I just didn't know if I wanted to tell her. I thought about it for several seconds. Then I decided to be honest.

"Tami, I thought long and hard about that. I realized back then that I still had feelings for you and I decided that those feelings might taint the ceremony. I didn't want to do that for my new wife, so I didn't send you an invitation. I have thought about my decision many, many times since then, and I have concluded that I did not make the right decision. All I can say is that I was trying to do the honorable thing. But I am sorry that I did not invite you." That last was delivered with feelings as I looked deep into her eyes. She returned my gaze for several seconds, and then looked away.

"Okay. I can accept that explanation." She paused for another ten seconds, and then continued in a soft voice.

"So, what about now?" She still wasn't looking me in the eyes, but I could tell she was somehow watching my every move and expression.

"Well, I, uh, have realized over the past few weeks that those feelings never went away. Even after thirty years." This time the pause was mine, as I considered what I had just admitted to her. I had no idea what her reaction would be, but what actually happened left me stunned.

Tami burst into tears.

I don't mean she shed a few tears, and I don't mean she cried a little. I mean she sobbed so violently that I was really concerned. Her shoulders shook and she seemed to be having problems breathing.

When we initially came into the living room, I had sat in the middle of my couch, hoping that she would settle into the space next to me. Instead she had chosen the matching love seat several feet away. Now I quickly moved onto the love seat next to her and put my arm around her. I didn't know what to do or say, so I just sat there. After half a minute of sobbing, Tami leaned against me and continued sobbing. I still sat there without moving or speaking. Finally there was a pause in her tears.

"Are you okay? Is there something I can get for you?" I was still immobilized and sat there without doing anything. After another few seconds, Tami leaned into me and seemed to mold herself to me, at least as much as she could while still sitting next to me. Quietly, and without looking at me, Tami spoke.

"Did you really mean that? Did you really mean that you still have feelings for me after all these years?" It sounded like she was in pain as she asked her questions. I took a moment before answering.

"Tami, I invited you here because I think I am falling in love with you. Yes, again. After all these years. And I needed to look into your eyes and decide if that was really happening, or if I am just remembering a fantasy from almost thirty years ago." There, I said it. Out loud. Now I had no idea what to do or say. Again. Damn! Why does she make me feel like a teenager all over again?

"Well, how do you plan on deciding?" She sat up and looked me in the eyes for that one, and it was really tough for me to return her gaze, but I did. And I was amazed at what I saw. Along with the tears was the warmest and softest gaze, totally filled with love, that I had ever seen in real life or even in movies. There was no mistaking what I could see in her eyes. And there was no mistaking how wide and how warm her smile. My heart skipped a beat. No, it skipped several beats. I suddenly realized how close I was to losing control of my heart. But as I thought for a few seconds, I decided that was not a bad thing.

And I kissed her.

I didn't know what else to do, and while I was waiting to decide what to do, my heart made the decision for me.

My lips touched hers so gently I was not sure it was even a kiss. And then there was urgency in the kiss. And then I felt her tongue gently touch my lips, almost as if asking permission. And then our tongues were dancing the most wonderful dance.

We kissed for more than a minute and then things took on a force of their own. My hand touched her awesome breasts for the first time. And they were so hot and soft to the touch that I couldn't stop. Both hands became active, squeezing and molding and playing with the breasts of the woman I was suspecting that I loved. Her hands roamed across my chest and shoulders and back, while mine did the same. Then suddenly I felt her hand gently grasp my cock. What had been soft and gentle moans were suddenly loud and impassioned noises.

We must have been going at it for several minutes, with me massaging her soft breasts and she massaging my hard cock, and then I pulled away. I could not believe my willpower, but I actually pulled away.

"Listen, Tami. This isn't what I invited you for. I think we need to slow down or I will become even more confused than I already am." I paused to catch my breath, but she continued for me.

"So you are feeling confused? I thought you were feeling my boobs." There was an obvious chuckle as she enjoyed her joke, but I was not laughing. I truly did not invite her to visit me so we could engage in sex. I wanted to know my heart. My lust was already quite well-known to me, but my heart was not as clear. I didn't say anything for a few seconds, and then I stood up. I looked down and noticed that her blouse had become partially unbuttoned, enough for me to see much of her beautiful black lacy bra and the cleavage it didn't hide. Her full breasts showed the same freckles that I had fallen in love with all those years ago. She noticed me staring at her bra and the soft mounds it exposed and smiled.

"I bought it just for this trip," she smiled. "Would you like to know if it matches my panties?" That caused the wind to be entirely sucked out of my chest, and I mentally saw her standing before me in matching lacy bra and panties. As the scene ran across the movie screen in my mind, I saw her first in beautiful matching panties, and then she was suddenly wearing a matching thong. I lost my breath for several more seconds. She simply smiled but made no effort to close her blouse. I stared for another few seconds and then abruptly turned away. And I could not believe how difficult that was.

And just before I turned away, I noticed that she was staring at my hard cock. I quickly took the two steps that separated me from my glass and the wine bottle that I had opened earlier but never poured. Just to keep my hands busy, I reached for the bottle and poured the now room temperature wine into the two glasses. I noticed that my hands were shaking, and I looked at her to see if she had noticed. The look in her eyes indicated she had, and she smiled just slightly in response. But she still sat there with her blouse parted, showing me a large expanse of her awesome cleavage and her beautiful, lacy bra.

"Uh, would you like to watch a movie?" I knew that sounded so stupid, but it was all I had. Anything else required actual thought and I knew I was totally incapable of that for the moment. She blinked twice, as if not really hearing the question. And then she smiled at me.

"Actually, you had bragged so much about your hot tub, especially how wonderful it felt in the cool autumn weather, that I started thinking about it on the jet here and I haven't stopped thinking about it since. But I feel really stupid: I didn't think to pack a swim suit for the trip." She looked sincere in her forgetfulness, but I had my suspicions. However, I shoved those suspicions to the back of my mind and just shrugged my shoulders.

"Well, I have something I could loan you for the weekend." Tami snorted at the idea, almost in disgust.

"Right. I just bet you would love to get me into a tee shirt and then get me all wet." She giggled at the idea, but I thought I heard more. "No, I think I will just wear a bra and panties. They cover more than one of my bikinis." And the same mental movie crossed my mind as I thought about her walking across my large deck and stepping into the hot tub in her matching lace bra and panties. I shut down the mental movie before it got to the part where she was wearing a thong.

"Well, you can wear what you want, and I am sure I will like it, but it probably won't matter anyway. In case you haven't noticed, it is dark outside." I tried to grin at my own joke, but somehow my face was too contorted from my lust to actually grin. She looked at me for just a moment, and then stood and slowly unbuttoned her blouse. Then she shrugged her shoulders in a sexy way and her blouse dropped to the floor. Then she unsnapped and unzipped her jeans, and began to wiggle out of them. She paused for just a moment, a teasing smile on her face.

"Are you planning on joining me?" And then she slid out of her jeans, showing that her lacy panties really did match her bra. Without another word, she walked to the sliding glass doors that opened out onto my large deck. I stood frozen while she moved to the hot tub.