A Dose of Vitamin C

There was only one more presentation to sit through. "Focus," thought Mary. "Just because you are giddy with pent up desire and longing doesn't mean that the poor shmuck who came all this way should suffer." And maybe, just maybe, if nobody asked questions just to hear the sound of their own voice, she might get back to the hotel a bit early so that she could have time for a drink to steady her nerves before meeting up with Cole.

It had been a while since they had seen each other, but it didn't matter. They had known each other nearly 40 years. When they met as seniors in high school the physical attraction was immediate and palpable, and nothing had changed there, in fact, it had only gotten stronger over the years. Cole had been tall, blond, and beautiful in a way set him apart from the standard issue burly jocks at school. He was a lanky, muscled athlete, clearly in control of his body, if unaware of the effect it had on others. Mary thought that he seemed to glow with sexual energy, and couldn't understand everyone couldn't see the sensuality shimmering off of him. She was the new girl at school—an awkward transplanted New Yorker in a school full of polished preppy suburbanites, and was amazed that he had ever even given her the time of day (aside from the fact that her triple D cups made most of the boys in her class at least glance at her.)

Her mind wandered back to the days when they had screwed everywhere—in cars, showers and on midnight beaches, in the room next to her sleeping parents while "watching TV," in all night Jack Daniels fueled sessions in hotel rooms paid for with summer job earnings, and later, in dorm rooms at their respective colleges. They were friends with benefits before anyone had heard of that phrase, and then more than that, before time, distance and the fact that they were young adults in no hurry to be tied down made everything too complicated. Years later Cole was a guest at her wedding, where even then he had boldly stared down the front of her wedding gown and whispered something in her ear that dampened her panties in a way that she knew was wrong, but felt so right. But she was getting ahead of herself.

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"Thirty-five years," she marveled, as the presentation droned towards its inevitable end, "and I have seen him only a handful of times in the last 25, but still, he knows me better than almost anyone. Certainly the man knows better than anyone how to treat my body." And still the Powerpoint slides scrolled across the screen, and Mary's mind again drifted back.

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The first time the had been together was when they had only known each other for a few months. Both were visiting New York from the suburbs for different reasons, and they decided to meet up. Under what pretense, Mary now could not remember, but it seemed to make sense at the time. A stroll by the river turned into a drinks in a dark booth at the back of a seedy Irish bar where nobody dreamed of carding them, and that then led to a warm, buzzed increasingly touchy walk back to her grandmother's apartment where she stayed while her grandmother was in Florida. What began as kissing on the couch quickly turned into the best sex she had ever had in her young life, despite the weirdness of fucking on her grandmother's bed. There was none of the fumbling awkwardness of previous boyfriends, no "what-goes-where?" or "oops I just came too quickly." Cole's magic fingers had her down to her bra and panties in about a second, and before she knew it, his probing, curious tongue was tugging hard on her nipple, making a wet spot on the sheer fabric of her bra and causing her back to arch, pushing her breast further into his waiting, hungry mouth. "Clearly," she had thought, "this guy knows what he is doing."

From there it took no time for him to find her already throbbing clit with his finger, expertly stoking it until she moaned, instantly forgetting her minor embarrassment at wearing such pedestrian underthings. She hadn't, after all, expected ANYTHING like this to happen. The minor flirting that had gone on between them before had not even given her a hint of expectation, but cotton undies be damned, all the heat was rushing to her pussy, and she could feel his cock pressing against her thigh, straining against his snug blue jeans. All she could think about was having him deep inside her, but he was way ahead of the game and soon had his face buried between her legs, lapping up the juices that were already flowing freely. She reached for his zipper, but he moved her hand away. "No, you first" he had said, shocking her, as her sexual experiences thus far had been with boys who thought only of getting their rocks off as soon as possible, and if she enjoyed the experience, well then that was nice too. But Cole teased, sucked, stroked and probed as Mary unconsciously moved her hips faster and faster, finally exploding in a rush of warmth and release as his tongue alone brought her to a panting, shuddering climax.

Only then did Cole let her take off his clothes, and it proved to be worth the wait. A muscled torso narrowing down to a small waist, a hard, round ass, and a huge, strong cock that Mary was eager to take into her mouth, which she did without hesitation. She had never enjoyed giving head, but this was different—it felt reciprocal, sexy, and she felt powerful. She cupped his balls and watched as he threw his his head back and laughed with pleasure. Several times Mary brought him to the brink of cumming, but each time she stopped just short, teasing him, until finally she climbed on top of him, took his cock in her hand and rubbed it along the length of her dripping pussy several times before finally driving it as deep as possible into her aching slit and riding it, Cole looking up at her huge tits swinging above his face, and finally they loudly came together, hoping the old lady in the next apartment would not report the strange noises she had heard during Mary's visit.

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Mary looked up, slightly disorientated. The room was still dark. "Oh, right." The presentation was still going on. Had it really just been a minute or two that she had tuned out? Could the people sitting in the conference room next to her not feel the heat pulsating from her body just thinking about her past exploits...and what was yet to come?

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When they got back to school and their normal routines nothing seemed to have changed, yet everything had. Nobody else knew what had happened, and they kept it that way. Except that when Cole knew that Mary's parents were away, as they often were, he would appear on his bicycle, and playtime would begin. Once Mary, unsuspecting, was in the bath, when she saw the shower curtain move and screamed, but it was only Cole, with a mischievous smile on his face, entering the shower cock first, having shimmied up the drainpipe and onto the porch outside her room, climbing in the window. They fucked in the shower, hot water cascading over them, her legs wrapped around his waist, Cole sucking her nipples as they moved together, pressed against hard against the tiles, until Cole spun Mary around, entered her from behind, and lifted her off the ground as he pumped his load deep into her pussy. Afterwards they soaped each other all over, toweled each other off, and fell exhausted onto her bed, listening the wailing of The Rolling Stones on the record player.

Cole and Mary kept it light, dating other people, but like super-charged magnets, they were constantly pulled back together—they seemed to be attached at the crotch. Their time together was always exciting, heightened by the illicitness of their sexual exploits. At school they were "just friends" but sometimes it was hard to keep the sexual tension at bay.

As Cole got more comfortable with Mary he also got more adventurous and more daring. He loved to buy her lingerie—once a silk teddy, once a sheer pink bra with matching panties. Then one day when he was over and they were "watching TV" (which meant passionately making out on the couch) she reached deep into his pants and discovered that instead of the rough fabric of his standard issue tightie-whities her hand found his rock hard cock covered by a silky, stretchy fabric which she soon discovered was a pair of her panties that he had hurriedly found in her underwear drawer and put on while she was downstairs making popcorn. She looked up and saw on his face a look that was equal parts of both nervousness and pure desire.

She knew she probably should have been shocked, or at least a bit surprised, but instead Mary found the fact that Cole was wearing panties, and HER panties at that, a huge turn on. The contrast of the soft, sensual and silky fabric with the power of his hard cock straining the seams was nearly more than she could take. Mary gave him a big grin and saw him melt with relief. Then down she went, feeling the sensation of satin for the first time, and loving it, soft against her lips, tasting the few drops of salty wetness that had escaped from his dick and were spreading across the silky material. She rubbed his cock through the fabric, letting him feel the contrasting sensation, before lifting her skirt and straddling him, letting her wet pussy, contained in it's own silky sling, slide across the slick expanse of his satin encased cock. The sensation was amazing, and they both gasped with pleasure—but quietly—as her parents were just downstairs.

Cole slipped his hand in her blouse and expertly found the front clip to the bra she was wearing. With one "snap" he had it undone and her sizeable breasts tumbled into his hands, nipples hard and begging to be sucked. Mary reached down and, nudged his cock out of the side of the panties and slipped it into her waiting pussy, tightening her legs around his back. Suppressing a groan, Cole leaned back on the couch, and they quietly rocked back and forth for what seemed like a very long time, feeling the tension building and building and building, as his cock drove deeper and deeper inside her, the rubbing of the fabric of the two sets of panties only adding to the pleasure, until it was nearly unbearable. As Cole took Mary's nipple into his mouth and swirled it generously with his tongue, gently biting and sucking, they finally exploded into each other, muffling the sounds of pleasure as much as possible by turning up the TV volume. They sat together, Cole softening inside her, kissing, and marveling at the excitement of this interesting new twist.

"When the hell was this thing going to be over?" At this point, with her mind so fully engaged in the very detailed (and arousing) x-rated trip down memory lane, Mary had barely heard a thing going on in this meeting, and all she wanted too do was get back to the hotel room, shower, and put on something sexy before Cole arrived. His wife was out of town and that meant they would have the whole night together; a luxury of time they rarely were afforded. "Just finish the fuck up!" Mary thought, but when it became clear that this guy was still only finishing his introduction, her mind again slipped back in time.

She thought back to the time that they had gone to a big class party at the beach, drank a little too much, and somehow ended up leaving the bonfire where everyone else was roasting marshmallows to go skinny dipping at midnight in a sea full of phosphorescence. She remembered the tiny ocean animals all around them, magically glowing, how it seemed to pull them together, as they swam out deeper and deeper, to where he could stand but she couldn't. Of course she ended up with her legs wrapped around his torso, stroking his already engorged cock before driving it deep into her. They slowly made love in the sparkling bay with the moon shining above and the water glowing below and her breasts floating like orbs on the top of the water. They secretly touched and stroked each other beneath the surface, laughing and playing and climaxing powerfully in a seemingly weightless dance. That had been wonderful. Romantic, even. The problem was that his girlfriend had definitely NOT thought it was wonderful. What had Mary been thinking? The problem was, when it came to Cole, she didn't think. Her body completely took over.

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Mary's mind glossed over the years in college when they had actually dated—when they decided that sheer unadulterated lust was great, but they needed more. It was a bit too intense to revisit those years, that took some unpacking, not something she could do in a room full of colleagues in suits watching a flickering screen and a droning presentation.

She did remember the few surprise times they had fucked after their college break up—notably the booty call in her mid 20s for which she drove several hours with the sole objective of getting laid by what still was the best damn sex of her life. Although she was in a good relationship, the activity in the bedroom there was somewhat lacking, and Mary needed a dose what by then she thought of as "Vitamin Cole" to remind her what good sex was. So she tamped down her feelings of guilt, lied about a "girls weekend," threw a suitcase full of her sexiest lingerie in the back of the car and drove the 3 hours to his seedy apartment in the middle of nowhere. They drank beer, ate cold fried chicken and then proceeded to fuck each other silly on his mattress on the floor for the next 8 hours while his roommate presumably jerked off in the next from to the sounds of Mary's uninhibited moaning. That was the night when Mary realized that Cole had erupted inside her more than 8 times, and she had probably climaxed even more than that given the attention of Coles tongue. He loved to eat her out, and she could never argue with that.

Her pussy was full of their juices, mingled together, and she finally reached down, and brought up her hand, glistening wet and together they sucked the salty, sticky cum off her fingers. By morning her nipples were sore from his undivided attention, she figured she looked like hell, and not only was she going to have to do a walk of shame, she was going to do a drive of shame. She stuffed a pair of her sticky, cum filled black lace panties in one of Cole's boots as a parting gift for him to find later, kissed his sleeping forehead, and ducked out. It had been worth it.

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"But that was a long time ago," Mary thought. "Thirty years ago?" How had they reconnected after that? She tried to remember. They had seen each other once or twice after what she thought of as the panty dampening incident at her wedding (he just had to prove he could do it, didn't he?) but both of those were perfectly innocent and G- rated. "That's right," she remembered: It was email, in the dark ages when email was new, and required a dial-up connection. He had gotten her email address somehow and they started a correspondence—she told him about her life, her husband and sons, how strange it was to be living in the sticks, and he, now also married, made her laugh with stories about his kid.

Eventually they started to reminisce, and that was when things began to get steamy. She was amazed at how aroused she could get just by reading an email— when she read some of the words Cole wrote it was as though an electric bolt zapped through her core right to her pussy. He wrote about the things he said he wanted to do to her, old things that they had done before, but new things too, intriguing things, things she began to fantasize about day and night.

It wasn't that Mary's husband was inconsiderate or unkind in any way, he just was one of the few men Mary knew who didn't seem to care that much about sex. She loved him dearly, it was just that he didn't even notice if she dressed up, or even if she walked around in a new bra. Their sex life was strictly vanilla, when it happened at all. And at some point she knew she needed to feel that excitement again, needed to remember what it was like to give herself over to pure desire and explore some new corner of potential sexual expression.

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Thinking now about those things they had emailed to each other all those years ago, Mary's nipples began to harden and she felt the familiar knot of excitement in the pit of her stomach. She quickly folded her arms across her chest, aware that that morning she had selected an unlined bra and silky blouse to wear to the meeting, and she was not interested in making that kind of impression on her co-workers. She needn't have worried, as the lights were still down and all attention was still focused on the glowing screen at the front of the room.

The emails had been pretty graphic, and left no doubt in the mind of either of them that picking up where they had left off would not present the need to get to know one another again or fumble through any awkward reunion. And they didn't. She had been in town and had arranged to stay an extra night. They met at a bar and had a few drinks, but decided to skip dinner. They couldn't keep their hands off each other in the elevator—Mary felt like a horny teenager, not the 40 something mother of one. And when they got to the room it was all so easy.

Cole still knew her body still so well—the fifteen years since they had touched each other disappeared in an instant. He knew exactly how to tease her, stroking his cock along the outline of her pussy, against her panties, her staining up towards him, he knew where to suck, how fast to go, and when to go slowly, he knew that she liked to be fucked in a bra and panties, and she knew that he often wanted her on top of him, riding her, with one breast exposed and in his mouth, and the other still encased in its lacy cup. She knew instinctively just when he wanted to flip her over and enter her from behind, and also when he needed a good strong smack on his ass to get his attention. After all those years she still knew the smell of him, the taste of his cum, the shape of his cock in her mouth. Fucking him was like coming home.

Since then they had met in hotel rooms—sometimes once a year, sometimes a couple of times a year, sometimes years had gone by and they hadn't seen each other. When they did see each other Mary always brought new and interesting lingerie. Cole liked to dress her up in it, and sometimes he liked to wear it himself. In those instances Mary would carefully pull panties up his legs, smoothing them up over his ass and cock, and then often add stockings, an extra layer of silky smoothness that she could stroke and play with as she sucked his cock through the fabric, finally ripping the hose open and slowly lowering herself down onto his throbbing dick, letting the lace edges of his panties rub against her clit as he reached down and played with them both until they could no longer contain themselves and finally he came in a great gushing wave.

Cell phones and texting opened up another avenue of often hot and heavy graphic phone sex, confessions, and scenarios. They played with ideas of domination and submission, role play, fantasized, and generally got off as much as possible. Cole would say that just the sound of her throaty voice could make him hard, while Mary knew that it didn't take more than the anticipation that came from his designated "twang" of a ring tone to set the juices of her pussy flowing in anticipation.

The last time they were together, lights dimmed and the king sized bed still pristine, Mary had surprised Cole by giving him a riding crop. Not one of fake, fantasy ones that come from an "adult" store, but a real, sturdy one she had purchased from her local tack shop, breathing in the dust and smell of saddle soap as she thought of what she would be doing soon with the crop she was purchasing. And sure enough, Cole had loved the idea immediately, as had she, though it had never before occurred to her how sexy it could be to hear the swish of the crop whistling through the air, smacking you (just hard enough) while a hard cock was rhythmically pleasuring your body, all your senses alight. They took turns with it all night, playing with pain and pleasure in a brand new way. And in the morning, because neither of them could bring it home, they hid it high up on a shelf in the back of the closet, hoping some other adventurous couple might stumble upon it one day.