After a Decade Apart

This is the second chapter in a weekend-long story. This scene takes place on Friday night.

*****

We've finished dinner, and we are now out on the front porch, on a love seat. The sun went down an hour ago and the night air is cooling. I'm still trying to be my prim and proper self, and I sit down on one side, expecting you sit next to me. As you do, you reach for my feet and swivel me around so I'm reclining against the side of the loveseat, and my feet are in your lap.

I'm thankful I spent so much time shaving, exfoliating, and applying lotion to my legs, because I know they are soft and smooth all the way up. We sit quietly for a moment, your hand just resting on my calves. And then our conversation picks up where we left off as we cleaned up after dinner. Back to discussing the novels we'd each asked the other to read before this weekend.

We are both bibliophiles attracted to an intelligent mind. Two weeks ago during a phone call, we'd been discussing favorite works of fiction. You'd suggested a book for me, and I'd downloaded it that evening. I had another in mind for you, and sent it to you via Amazon Prime. We'd each finished the books, and parried back and forth on the merits of both and the lingering questions we'd each had after just a single read.

As we continue to talk, your hands are moving, mindlessly at first, then with massaging deliberation. Your hands are incredible, and I already know that I will never get enough of them on my body. I reach for my wine glass, both for something to do, and also to relax. I want nothing more than to unzip your pants and straddle you right here on the front porch, but we've talked a lot lately about patience (we've waited ten years for this - what's another hour?) and anticipation.

Your hands continue to work their magic on my calves and now you've found the sensitive ticklish spot behind my knees. I bend my knees and as I do, my foot nudges the bulge in your pants. I'm already wet, but I can feel the dampness increase. You scoot closer to me, changing position ever so slightly so that now my feet are on the other side of your legs and my knees tent over your lap. Your right hand reaches behind me and pulls me even closer, and then your lips are on mine.

This time, the kiss is gentle, sweet, and soft. Nothing like the desperate onslaught of earlier. I set my glass back on the table, and wind my arms around your neck, pulling you down closer to me. Your left hand is under my dress sliding up the outside of my thigh. I run my hands through your hair, caressing your neck, sliding over your ears - your ears with the tempting earrings in them. Inexplicably, I want to suck on them.

I break our kiss and find your ear with my mouth. I run my tongue over your small metal hoops and then purse my lips and gently suck them into my mouth. I run my tongue along the back of your earrings, and I pull ever so lightly with my teeth. I let the hoops pop back out into the quickly cooling air one by one. I can literally feel that it gets a rise out of you, and you are shifting beneath my legs again.

This time, I go for what I've been waiting for. I lift my legs from your lap, and reach for the bulge in your pants that's had me mesmerized since moments after you arrived. I am desperate to feel you, to touch you. I grasp at your belt, but your hand on mine stills my attempt. Your eyes are darker even than they were a moment ago, and I sense that you are trying to tell me something without saying the words. Maybe that I'm peeking into Pandora's Box and once opened, it cannot be closed?

I lean up to kiss you and then I whisper in your ear, "It really is okay. I'm ready for this."

I reach for your belt again, and this time, you let me. In fact, your hands are helping now instead of hindering. I'm trying to be gentle, but I'm so desperate to see your cock. To touch you, to taste you. I'm fumbling, and I know it. I take a breath to try and steady myself, to remind myself that we have all weekend. Finally, finally, your cock is free of the textile encumbrances. I reach for you with one hand, a little surprised that my thumb and forefinger do not meet as I grasp you.

You've mentioned your sexual prowess, not out of pride, or boastfulness, but more as reassurance to me... reassurance that it is okay to for me to take the lead at times, but you never gave away your size. My lips are buzzing. From the wine, from your kisses, from the energy of the night. I lean down to kiss your perfect cock. Just a simple kiss on the crown. But that first taste is incredible. And I can't help but flick my tongue against you. Your hand is in my hair, but not pushing, not pressuring me. That alone is reassuring.

I draw your hard length into my mouth slowly, savoring the feeling, this first taste of you that I have waited for so long. I run out of mouth before you run out of cock. I suck gently as I pop off and reach for my wine glass. You look at me, puzzled. But I have done this before, and I know that another few sips of wine will make it possible for your cock to slide down my throat.

I lean back down, this time starting at your base and kissing my way to your tip, my eyes meeting yours to make sure that this is okay with you. I take your silence as acquiescence, and continue exploring with my lips. I lose myself for a moment in the glory of your cock. I start at the tip and start sucking, working my tongue on the underside, swirling a little as I go. I take more of you into my mouth, hollowing my cheeks with suction as I take you deeper. Until I've managed to fit your whole cock in my mouth, your tip bumping against the back of my throat.

I'm sucking and pulling back, doing my best to be gentle. I find a rhythm bobbing my head and sucking. My tongue is dancing around your tip when I come up, and pushing against the underside of your cock as I go down. I can feel that you are getting close. I taste a bit of pre-cum, and I am soaking wet. I debate between finishing you here, with my mouth, or just straddling you and letting you pump into me.

That debate ceases when I hear you gasp and I feel your hand tighten in my hair an instant before you unload in my mouth. Tasting you as you shoot past my lips and onto my tongue nearly sends me over the edge. I can feel the tension in you release as you relax back into the loveseat. I'm doing my best to conceal just how close to another orgasm I am, but the way I'm wriggling about may give me away.

I am so tempted to guide your hands to my breasts, to make your fingers tweak my nipples and send me flying into another orgasm. But I decide I can wait, at least until we make it inside. Again, I remind myself that we are in the opening salvo of a weekend full of pleasure.