Faceboo Complications

She padded over to the small bathroom at the rear of the store and toweled off her neck one more time. This summer heat was brutal and with the air conditioning on the fritz, she was finding it impossible to stay dry.

"I freaking hate this humidity," she muttered to herself while nervously tidying up the shelves in front of her. She peered closer into the mirror for what felt like the fifteenth time that hour and sighed deeply. All the work she'd put into applying her makeup just so and then blow-drying her hair was for nothing.

Pulling her hair back into a casual twist, she clipped it high enough off the nape that she no longer felt the wet strands on her neck. A facecloth removed what was left of the mascara running under her eyes but nothing was going to change the slightly feverish tint to her skin. She nervously ran a tongue over her lips and could taste the salty sweat.

"Oh, just swell." She told her reflection. "Why couldn't this be happening in the dead of winter instead?"

Impatiently flicking off the light, she re-entered the main space of her small store. She'd spent the day cleaning up even though she knew he wouldn't be paying attention to any of it. Fidgeting was more like it though, moving one item here and then uselessly back again.

She repeated in her head more than once, "This is demented. Demented, demented, demented."

Melanie had been talking to herself in this vein off and on for the past week, with the tension ratcheting up a few notches the closer she got to this date. By the time this morning had arrived, the tension in her body was near overwhelming. Her mind couldn't focus on anything but the clock mounted high on the wall. She knew she'd spoken earlier to clients as they came in, but damn if she could remember a thing that was said or bought.

All that mattered right now was that Robin would come through her front door... so soon. Here, in her place, after all this time he would be standing just a foot or two from her. A few tantalizing moments and then? He'd be gone again.

"ARGH!" She cried up to the ceiling in frustration. "I am FUCKING losing it!"

When she was being honest with herself, she could quietly admit that she'd lost it on his account decades before. It was hard to believe that those heady days of university, music, parties and few responsibilities were almost 20 years gone now. Harder still to reconcile that wild adventurous child with the woman she was now: settled, active in the community, and a mother.

A wife. Married.

He too was married, with a gorgeous little boy whose grinning face often showed up on his Facebook wall. Oh yes, they'd reconnected online a few years ago in the way that old acquaintances do -- it turned out he was a friend of a friend and so what could one do but accept the request?

What made it stranger still was when his wife Jennifer "friended" her as well, adding a surreal element to it all. She had met her back when he and Jen had already been dating for a while. They were all part of a group loosely connected in some ways through classes, running in to one another at parties and bars. But with Melanie and Robin's shared history, she couldn't help but be aware of his girlfriend at the time.

For whatever reason, it must have made some sort of sense to Jennifer to virtually hook up again and they'd all stayed in touch in that casual way of 'like'ing one anothers shared links and bon mots.

The strangest partto Melanie was that there were so many reasons to allow an authentic friendship to develop between the two women. Moments would crop up while reading Jen's status updates, or recipe postings, or quirky photos when Mel could ruefully admit that she liked this woman. She felt genuinely connected to her somehow and yet she knew she could never acknowledge or pursue it in real life. You can't develop a relationship with someone while running the risk of somehow letting slip that you've had a secret connection with her husband, can you?

Especially if said 'connection' was intensely sexual in nature, and had taken place two decades ago. Back in the day when now husband and wife were supposedly exclusively together.

The truth was that Mel tried not to think about her long-ago affair with Robin very often. After all, she was in her 40s now and more than happy with her husband and children. What would possibly be the benefit in dredging up old memories? You can't go and compare the insanity of hormone-driven passion with the stability of family, of love and trust established over time.

Could you?

Okay, so they'd had their crazy fling. Luckily they had come to their senses before they were caught, and life had gone on. They had been in their early twenties after all and, hey, wasn't that the whole point of being young and stupid? Making dumb-ass mistakes and learning from them?

Thinking back to those heady days, she couldn't even fathom what had possessed her to flirt with the intriguing yet unavailable guy at that party. She'd seen him around often enough on campus, and usually he was with a dark-haired woman she presumed must be the girlfriend. But on this particular night he was all on his lonesome and she spotted him leaning up against a wall, drink in hand. Their eyes made contact and she suddenly found herself standing in front of him, far closer that a passing acquaintanceship should.

"Hello, Mel-a-nie", he had said to her pointedly, toasting her with his plastic cup as he drew out her name.

Inordinately pleased by this, she laughed carelessly and knocked the side of her drink to his.

"And hello to you too, Ro-bin." she placced the same emphasis on his name as he had done to hers

They grinned together, each enjoying the fact that the other had known their name without having been properly introduced before. There was an illicit thrill that ran through her, which had her grasping. Did this mean what she thought it might? Was there some sort of reciprocal interest to be found here? Bah. She knew he was already taken, and she didn't play in other girls' gardens. She mentally shrugged the thought off and focused her attentions back on to his face.

The devilish look in his eyes made her wonder just how transparent her thoughts might have been. Ignoring the possibility, she started some general chatter about the music and before long they were deep in conversation, arguing the merits of the emerging grunge scene. Hours flew by as they continued to drink and bicker playfully with one another, oblivious to all around them.

There was no doubt she was getting increasingly plastered, drinking far more than was usual for her. All her senses were centred on the man in front of her...the dark hairs on his forearm, his funny habit of letting the tip of his tongue extend through his teeth when he laughed, and the deep timbre of his voice. She felt it was this last which most of all was responsible for the intense heat flooding through her. He had a way of slowing down his words while concentrating on her face that was ridiculously arousing.

Melanie found herself trying to make a convoluted point to him, made all the more difficult by her general state of inebriation. When she touched his bare arm to make a point, it was as if a live wire had run right through her. She was shocked into silence, unable to remove her hand. He was looking intently at her, silenced by her touch. They both watched as he took his opposing hand and placed it over hers, heat searing them both into place.

They could have stood like that for a millisecond or a millennium, neither noticed time passing. Robin finally shook himself, rousing as from a stupor. He grabbed her hand and said quietly, "We need to get some air."

Neither said a word as they threaded their way through the crowd, hanging on tightly with fingers entwined. The fresh blast of air that hit them as they exited was welcome and somewhat sobering. Standing at the bottom of the steps they'd just descended, he looked at her once more and tugged her to the left of the house.

It must have been close to 2am, and the only visible lights were coming from the upper windows and the party inside. She followed quietly as he led her through the dark in a seemingly random manner until they found themselves in the back garden, next to a potting shed.

"I don't know where I'm going," he admitted sheepishly, peering back over his shoulder as they continued walking towards the alley.

"Then maybe we should stop?" Melanie asked shyly.

He turned towards her, still gripping her hand tightly in his before pulling her close into his body. They swayed together like this for a moment before they found themselves backing up against the side of a car.

All it took was one last look into each others faces before they lunged forward and began devouring. Their hands were frenzied, grabbing frantically in such overwhelming need. Without tearing his mouth away from hers, his hands plunged under her shirt, moving unerringly towards her breasts where nipples were crying out for attention. She was moaning wildly under his kisses, now being scattered across her neck, her shoulders, deep into her cleavage. Her fingers dug into his hair, needing to move his mouth lower so he could suckle her through the thin cotton of her shirt.

Robin grabbed the sides of her ass and scooped her up easily, tossing her up on the hood. He moved in seconds later, pulling her near to press deep into the heat emanating from the juncture of her thighs. Her skirt was rucked all the way up as her legs locked around his waist, desperate to feel his hard length rubbing against her through his jeans.

Once more they began licking and biting madly, thrusting, hands wild for the touch of eager flesh. Sucking on her bottom lip, his hand slunk under the gathered fabric to rub against the wet material between her legs. All inhibitions tossed completely aside, she sobbed into his mouth. "Oh God, touch me. Touch me. Oh my God, I need you to touch me."

He needed no further entreaty and pushing her panties to one side, plunged two of his fingers straight up into her dripping cunt. She gasped loudly and threw her head back completely as his thumb found her clit and his hand began fucking her manically. The sheer intensity, the suddenness of all the sensations, the overwhelming ferocity in which he was ravaging her...her brain couldn't assimilate it in any rational manner. The orgasm flooded over her in an overwhelmingly powerful burst, the walls deep inside her clenching down on his fingers in hot rhythmic waves. Melanie clung to him, shaking and shuddering as tears began to stream down her cheeks.

With agonizing slowness he withdrew his fingers, feeling the residual ripples and juices escaping from her lower lips. Barely coherent with lust, he peeled off what was left of her sodden underwear and dropped it to the ground. Her legs had dropped down from and were just hanging down. She attempted to catch her breath and stem the river of tears...why the hell was she crying like this? She's wanted this, wanted him, hadn't let herself acknowledge the depths of her longing for this slender boy. What was wrong with her?

Oblivious to her turmoil, Robin was struggling with his belt buckle and zipper. His hands kept shaking and he was soon frantically clawing at his jeans and briefs, bending forward to better push both down to his ankles angrily. He needed to bury himself to the hilt in her silk. Nothing else mattered, nothing but the maddening scent of her pussy and the blistering heat.

He looked up at her, hunched forward towards him on the hood of this dusty old car. Her skirt was still akimbo and her juices glistened in what little light the alley provided. The sight was too much for him and he lunged forward, grabbing her ankles to throw them over his shoulders.

His mouth engulfed her cunt, his tongue completely shattering what little composure she had left. She screamed soundlessly as he sucked on the hot bud of her clit, ruthlessly pinning her in place with his hands spreading her wide. Melanie's head was flinging itself wildly from side to side, her body convulsing. He mindlessly feasted on her, all but lost in the ecstasy she was pouring forth. He finally dragged his face up to her mouth, just as eager to gobble her face as he had been her quim.

As close as they were grappling, his heavy cock joustled between them, trying to hone in on its target. It took nothing but a quick lift of her hips to fully impale himself in her with but one mighty thrust. And that was it for him...he was shooting. Shooting with the stars, shooting in near-pain as his balls spurted forward with the speed of an out-of-control train. He could do nothing but abandon himself to the sensations she pulled out of him with each cum-filled spasm.

They clung to one another in the dark, still joined and dripping, bewildered by the events that had just transpired.