πŸ“š reconnecting Part 18 of 17
reconnecting-18
EROTIC COUPLINGS

Reconnecting 18

Reconnecting 18

by byrong
19 min read
4.47 (3400 views)
adultfiction
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The text read, "We never fucked. Do you regret that?"

I hadn't heard from Leann for years, so the text from her was a surprise, to say the least. The last time must have been almost 20 years ago, when I was finishing my graduate work at the same university where we had been undergrads together some time before. Even then, when I returned to the school, our contacts had only been via email or text, never in person.

She wasn't my first love, but she had been the first really intense one. I was a college junior, she a sophomore, and our time together had been passionate, but very limited, physically. So my shock at reading the text wasn't so much at her raw language, but the embarrassment it reawakened. To say I was a virgin in college was putting it mildly. I had no real experience, though I'd certainly read a lot about sex. So our makeout sessions were lots of kissing and embracing, often prone on her dorm room bed, but always clothed, and without any genital touching. Not that I didn't want to, but I was just too scared. The sessions were intense enough that once or twice I came in my pants, though I don't think she realized.

This was a time when there was a lot of sex being had in college, so I always felt I had missed out, and it was all the fault of my shyness. And ironically, after Leann and I broke up, she was apparently having plenty of sex with other guys, or at least with one guy, from what I heard. So that has always haunted me. I thought about her a lot over the years, just wondering what it would have been like. I was happily married and had a couple of kids, so I never pursued anything, but I thought of her sometimes.

I didn't respond to her text for a couple of days, and then she sent me a follow up: "So, did I freak you out?" I felt I had to answer, so I wrote, "No. And to answer your first question, I've thought about it sometimes." That was an understatement. Then I added, "So what brought this on?"

She wrote, "One of my cousins died last week. She was only 42, which doesn't seem so old now. And I was thinking of all that she'd missed, and that started me thinking about my life."

"And then you thought about me? I'm flattered."

"Well, don't get a big head about it. But haven't you ever wondered what it would have been like?"

As I said already, yes, I had. In point of fact, there were times I thought about it a lot, and fantasized about her. I imagined licking her pussy, wondering what she would smell like and taste like. (I admit to having a bit of a fetish about the smell of pussy.) I wondered what her pussy would feel like around my cock. Would she be tight? Would she cum on my cock, and would I feel that? Would she be really wet, and maybe squirt when she came? Would her tits jiggle as I thrust into her, and would she like to be on top, leaning back as she rode my cock? Would she make a lot of noise, maybe talk dirty, or would she be quiet? Would I cum in her pussy, or pull out and cum on her tits or her belly, like the porn films? (And would I cum too quickly? Please, no, that would be adding insult to injury after my past naΓ―vetΓ©.)

All of that vivid imagery flashed through my head, but I just texted back, "Yeah. I have."

The thought occurred to me that if I played my cards right, I might be able to at least score a pair of her panties, to give me an answer to one thing I was wondering about and to fuel some masturbation sessions. I asked, "So, just assuming we acted upon this, what would happen then? I mean, what would it mean?"

She wrote back, "I'm not looking for a relationship here. It would just be hooking up, as the kids call it. Or the 'zipless fuck,' if you remember Erica Jong."

"I do. Let me think about it."

"Well, don't take too long. You never know... "

****

It was more than a month later, when the opportunity presented itself. My wife was spending a weekend at a friend's beach condo. I proposed to visit the library at a research university a couple of hours away, some preliminary research for a book. I contacted Leann, and we arranged to stay at the same hotel.

As agreed, we met in the hotel bar on a Friday evening. I definitely needed alcohol! When I saw her, my first impression was that she looked good. We were both middle aged, so I had no illusions. She had been reasonably hot back in college (another pang of regret that we had never consummated our relationship), and I couldn't say that now, but she had aged well and still looked attractive. I hoped she saw me the same way, though my self-image wasn't great. After a hug, and preliminaries, we had a drink to catch up, then another. Then she suggested we go to her room.

My doubts about how to handle this reemerged as soon as I was inside the door. I overthink everything, and I felt I had to somehow prove myself, make up for my shocking naivetΓ© and shyness from decades before. So that was a problem--how to get things started. She opened the minibar, and we had another drink. She sat on the bed, and I sat on the desk chair, because sitting on the bed seemed too weird, even though we both knew what we were there for. She asked if I was nervous, and I admitted I was. Surprisingly, she said she was, too.

Out of nervousness, and probably a little buzzed from the drinks at this point, I blurted something about hoping I would at least get a souvenir of our encounter, feeling foolish as soon as the words were out of my mouth.

"What kind of souvenir?"

"I was thinking of your panties."

"Do you want to wear them?"

"Oh, no; I'm not into that."

"Do you want to smell them?"

"Definitely."

"Mmmm. I might want to see that, but later."

After an awkward silence that probably wasn't as long as it seemed, she said, "Do you want to role play? I mean, we could pretend we were back in college, sort of pick up where we left off, but let it go further?"

That was a good start. She found a playlist of some old songs on her phone (I guess she had prepared!) and she patted the bed beside her for me to sit down. We kissed, the first time in many years. Kissing her felt both familiar and strange. Double vision, almost. One kiss led to another, and after awhile she took my hand and pressed it to her breast, the first time I had touched her there. We fell back on the bed. I kissed her ear, and then her neck. I slowly began to unbutton her top. glad that she hadn't worn something that would have to be pulled over her head.

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I kissed her shoulders, and then her breasts above her bra, a blue lacy affair that was pretty but not showy. I saw the clasp in the front--how convenient--and slowly unfastened it, carefully sliding it and her shirt off her shoulders. She was never large breasted, and despite her age, she was still reasonably firm. Her nipples were slightly firm, the areolae a bit puckered, then more so as I lightly licked around the nipples and then over them. I was conscious of her breathing, and her hand lightly stroking my hair.

I spent a good bit of time on her tits, not making a rush for her pussy, making sure she was fully aroused and maybe even a little impatient, before kissing down her stomach. I paused to unbutton her skirt, and she assisted by lifting herself enough that I could pull it from underneath her. The blue panties matched the bra, sexy in a tasteful way. I kissed her below the navel, over the panties, catching the first tantalizing hints of her scent, and then slowly, I slid her panties down, and she lifted up again, to ease the access. My first glimpse of her pussy. Soft curls, trimmed but not shaven; the labia were slightly swollen and parted and I could see some moisture glistening within. When the panties were off, I carefully found the crotch, noticing it was damp, and held it to my nose, inhaling deeply, making sure she saw what I was doing. She watched intently, expectantly.

With the first real whiff of her spicy, musky scent, my cock was throbbing, and I took a moment to slip out of my shirt and slacks. Her scent was strong, but certainly not unpleasant; a woman deeply aroused. I put her panties aside, kissed my way up her legs and her inner thighs, which she opened. I took my time, planting little kisses and licks on the inside of her thighs, breathing in her musky scent, getting stronger now, and savoring it like the bouquet of a fine wine. It was vain of me, but I wanted to prove that my previous naΓ―vetΓ© was not the real me. This was familiar terrain and I knew my way around it. Cunt geography. Her labia were what I would call "tidy"--not droopy or saggy with excess flesh, but tight, though swollen now with her arousal. Her clitoris was just peeping out of its sheath, not large, but clearly visible. I wanted to feel it on the tip of my tongue, to taste it, and I would, soon enough.

What I really wanted to do was to plunge my tongue into her opening as far as it would go. But I wanted that first touch with my tongue on her clit to be electric for both of us, so I planted light kisses on each of her lips, then sucking each of them lightly, and then ever so slowly I licked my way up her slit, stopping just short of her clit, which was more prominent now. I could feel the tension in her. I savored her tangy flavor. She was wet, alright, and there was a trace of milky juice at the entrance of her pussy. She had been creaming in her panties, I thought, mischievously. This was getting to her.

And to me. I thought about how my younger self would have reacted to all this stimulation. I would probably have ejaculated already, I thought. So there were some advantages to being middle aged, after all.

As I had hoped, with the first light touch of the very tip of my tongue on her clitoral hood, she jerked and gasped. I licked her slowly and lightly, letting her response guide me. She had been breathing deeply, and then she started whimpering, music to my ears. She would prop herself up on her elbows from time to time, watching me as I slowly ate her out. I made sure to keep eye contact. Then she would fall back and caress her tits, each hand on its own breast, rolling and pulling the nipples between her thumbs and fingers. An erotic sight I enjoyed when I saw it in porn films.

After a bit, she said, "Do you want to fuck me?"

"Yes, I do. But first, I'm going to make you cum in my mouth. And then, while I fuck you, I'll kiss you and you can taste your pussy on my lips. And you'll smell your pussy all over my face. Because your pussy smells fantastic. I can't get enough of it."

"Oooooh," she moaned.

I should say here that I don't often talk that much during sex, but there was something about the nature of this encounter, and the way it had begun with that text from her ("We never fucked. Do you regret that?"), that made me think, instinctively, that talking dirty might turn her on.

She said, "I want to feel your fingers."

I licked my fingers and slowly and carefully slipped first one, then another, into her wetness. Palm up, I curled my fingers and located her G-spot, stroking it lightly. After awhile, she said, "That's nice, but I don't really get off from my G-spot. Can you just slip a couple of fingers just a little bit inside and keep licking me?"

"Is that the way you masturbate?"

"Ummm. What?"

"I said [lick, lick], is that the way you masturbate, with a couple of fingers just inside your pussy, [lick] while you rub your clit?"

"You're... ummmm... asking me that now?"

"Yeah. The thought of you jilling off is turning me on."

"Then yeah, I do.:"

"And do you rub your clit up and down, or back and forth, or in circles?" I tried to demonstrate the different motions with my tongue.

"[Gasp] circles, mostly."

"Well, I may not be able to [lick] get my tongue in circles, but I can suck your clit."

"Mmmm."

"I'm going to make you explode in my mouth, and the next time you masturbate, you're gonna think about this moment, and pretend your fingers are my tongue and lips and you're gonna cum so hard, but not as hard as you're gonna cum for me now."

And with that, I fastened my lips around her clitoris and sucked lustily, while licking her button as fast as I could. She exploded all right, moaning and thrashing on the bed as I hung on. Before her spasms had completely subsided, she murmured, "fuck me." I withdrew my fingers, noticing my palm held a fair amount of her juice. Not wanting to waste it, I smeared it all over her tits, so that they would smell like her pussy, and rubbed some on my straining cock after pulling off my boxer briefs.

I moved up and stroked my cock along her wet slit, which felt amazingly good. As turned on as I was, I knew I could have cum that way. She was impatiently thrusting her hips upward, wanting me inside her. I wanted it too, but was savoring the moment, all these years in the making.

She murmured, "Please... "

S-l-o-w-l-y, I slid my cock down to the entrance to her slippery channel. I never want to rush the moment of initial penetration. And this was entering a new pussy for the first time, something to be savored, to be remembered later. The first sensations of heat and wetness. The slippery folds of her pussy enclosing my cock for the first time, both familiar but also new, the muscles different, the feel of her thighs, the scent of her, the sounds she was making, all reminders that the woman beneath me was different. As I began to penetrate her, I looked down at her, her hair disheveled, her tits glistening with her pussy juice, her nipples swollen, a sheen of sweat on her forehead, the smell of her pussy seemingly everywhere. She was a sexy mess, a woman about to be fucked, and ready for it, a woman who had just cum and I hoped to make cum again.

The sensation of her pussy wrapping around my cock was indescribable. After all those years! Of course she would have been tighter in our college years, because she'd had kids since then and she was older (we both were). But her pussy still felt incredible, being the first strange pussy I'd been in in years... decades, even. I wanted to savor that, and also not cum too soon, because even though I was older, this was an awful lot of stimulation and I was barely keeping it under control.

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I leaned down and licked her nipples in turn, tasting her tangy cream, and then kissed her, passionately, as we used to do, with lots of tongue. The difference this time was that my mouth was full of the taste of her, and her essence was all over my face, so I made sure to rub my chin, shiny with her cunt cream, all over her mouth.

I began to fuck her, slowly, then gradually faster, pausing occasionally to enjoy the sensation of her hot folds and to keep from cumming. She was moaning and panting, and I always get off on the sounds. When I watch porn--the real stuff, mostly from the women-run studios--I love the sounds of female arousal and orgasm. After awhile, I said, "You can rub your clit if you want. If it helps you get off, I'd love to feel you cum on my cock. And I'd like to see you doing it."

She slipped her hand down between us, and started rubbing. I leaned back a bit, to get a better view. It was incredibly hot to watch, my cock, going into her and emerging, shiny with her juices, while her hand was rubbing her clit. The part of me that wasn't getting closer to cumming was making note of all of this, for jerking off later.

I slowed down, to keep control. She rubbed faster. "I think... I'm about to cum again. I'm close."

"Go for it. Cum on my cock. I want to feel you cum!"

After a minute or so, she did. Amazingly, I could feel her pussy tightening on me, and I stopped thrusting to feel it. There were definite contractions, one or two strong ones, then some soft flutterings. It felt incredible. But it was too much. "I'm about to cum. Do you want me to cum in you?"

"I want to see it. Pull out and jerk off on my tits."

Feeling every bit like it was a porn film, I pulled out, a small pool of her cum running over my balls. I was too close to have time to move beside her and be sure to hit her tits, so I knelt between her legs as far as I could go. My cock was so slippery with her cream as i stroked it.

An odd thought crossed my mind. I knew that the volume and force of my ejaculation wouldn't match that of my younger years. Still, it was impressive, as the first rope of cum spurted from my cock and streaked across the upper part of her left tit, almost reaching her neck. I hit her nipple with the next spurt and then leaned back so I could direct the last few spurts toward her pussy, admiring the way it gleamed in her bush, already matted with her own fluids.

She gestured me toward her and took me in her mouth, sucking off the last of my cum, as well as hers, so tasting our mingled cum.

I got a towel from the bathroom and gently wiped her off.

****

I came awake slowly, and became aware of three things in turn: my cock was hard; I was lying next to a woman who was not my wife; and the subtle rhythmic motions in the bed suggested that she was masturbating. I lay still, listening. She was being quiet, but as her excitement grew, she was having an increasingly hard time controlling her movements and her breathing.

I must have given myself away, because she realized I was awake and she stopped. I said, "Don't stop."

"I was just..."

"No, really. Don't stop. I want to see you."

When she didn't say anything, I went on. "This is supposed to be about indulging our fantasies, right? Well, watching a woman masturbate to orgasm is one of my biggest fantasies. I've never seen it, at least not in reality."

"But in porn, right?"

"Yes, but the good stuff, mostly in the girl-girl amateur videos from the women-run studios. Not the fake stuff with porn stars. Real people doing it."

"Tell me about it." Her hand idly drifted back down to her curls.

"I like to watch them. I get off on that. You know, the sounds are important, too. The sounds they make. They don't have to scream and thrash around a lot if it's not natural to them. Sometimes the soft moans, or the whimpers that they make when they're trying to keep quiet, and they just slip out. Those are a turn-on. The breathing, too. Some of them make these little gasps or the little noises they make when they're trying to catch their breath, involuntarily. So hot."

I continued, "And occasional wet sounds, when you can hear that they're wet. Some of them talk about it, verbalize their fantasies or what they're doing. That's a turn-on. Or when two girls are doing it together and talking about it. And I like to hear them say that they're about to cum, as long as it's natural. And eye contact is a bonus. So hot if they're looking right at the camera, looking at me, even if they only glance now and then."

"Too bad you didn't bring any of those along. It might be kinky to watch them with you. And watch you. Because I'm assuming you jerk off to them?"

I was beyond any embarrassment at this point. Full disclosure time. "Yeah, I try to time it so that I cum when they do. It makes it like we're doing it together. As long as this is true confessions, I also like the stories in Literotica that are tagged 'mutual masturbation.' Do you want to try it?"

"Why not? Your dirty talk has gotten me going.... I will if you will."

"That's why it's called 'mutual!'"

We wanted to see each other, so we took up similar positions from earlier--she on the bed, and I on the chair, facing each other, our knees almost touching. She seemed shy about getting started. I was hard as a rock, so I started a slow stroking, and soon she began to play, stroking lightly over her pussy with one hand, caressing a nipple with the other. I asked her whether breast play was a regular feature for her.

"Sometimes to get started, then at different times throughout, but not constantly."

I was getting a little dry, and thought about reaching into my bag for a bottle of lube that I'd brought, just in case. Then a thought occurred to me: "You know what would be really hot?"

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