She liked him. She was here because she liked him. She wanted to feel the rush of sweet desire once again, let it fill her up, lay her down, and be consumed. The soulful sound of a sax played in the background. The lighting was dim. She looked around and wondered at the others. Were they looking for their star-crossed lovers? She'd been approached to dance. One fellow sent her a drink, she declined. She was not looking for just anyone, but the one. So lost in her own thoughts, she missed his entry, his standing in the doorway while he scanned, looking, looking for her. When the chair across from her was pulled away, there was no sound, only the movement. Startled she looked up. Her eyes followed him as he sat across from her. Her heart thundered in her chest. Her breath caught, she felt the adrenaline sluice into her veins. Her hand pressed low on her abdomen. As in the years before, she felt the hunger. It was immediate, without hesitation. She smiled.
"Hello Don," she said.
"Hello, sweet lady."
Don motioned to the bartender, pointed to Lyn's drink and held up two fingers. Once served, they each sipped their drinks. They had not yet touched. They had said nothing beyond their hellos. Each drank in the reality of the other. He extended his hand out to her. She reached to take it in her own as he moved from across the table to take her in his arms.
"Let's dance."
Hand in hand, they walked to the dance floor. Kenny G's soulful "Summer Time" filled the air. He pulled her close and breathed her in.
"Lyn," he whispered.
The music brought them together like puzzle pieces interlocking. She laid her head on his shoulder, kissed his neck, as he placed his hands on her ass and pulled her in close. There was no mistaking his rising desire. She knew he would not make the first move, he never did. This time was no different. He would wait for her.
She stopped in mid-dance, looked into his eyes, then turned and his hand in hers she led him off the dance floor. They left the hotel hospitality room, and standing in the bright lights before the bank of elevators they kissed, gently, tenderly, unhurriedly. He did not ask her, and she did not offer the words of consent. They both knew why they were here, what they wanted. No mystery. It had been that way between from that very first time.
During the elevator ride up, he sheltered her in his arms and she accepted. When the elevator door opened, she took him by surprise with her quick exit. On entering into the hall of doors, she bent down and took off her heels. Shoes in hand, she turned to look up at him. She grinned. Then left in a sprint calling back to him, "First one to the door, gets to strip the other." She laughed at his puzzled look; she knew she was not playing fair. He had no idea which door to get to first. Then laughing out loud, he followed staying just far enough behind to give her time to swipe the keycard.
On entering the room, his hand snaked out and grasped her arm. He pulled her into his chest as he stepped forward and kicked the door shut with his foot. He backed her into the wall and pressed his full length into her and kissed her hard. It was like rain in the desert.
"We're not going to make it to the bed if we're not careful," he said.
"Then by all means, let's be careful," she said. His embrace relaxed, and hand-in- hand, she led him to the foot of the bed.
"I think I won," she said.
"Right, and you certainly played fair."
She kissed him and slowly removed his jacket. Her hands shaking just a bit, she unbuttoned his shirt and pulled it free of his trousers. Her hands were drawn like magnets to touch his chest, to let her fingers play in those silky curls of hair. She bowed her head to kiss his chest in tender little butterfly kisses. She nibbled on his nipples as she let her hand fall to his swollen cock still trapped behind his clothes. Her tongue slowly traced upward from his nipple, to his neck, and then dipped between his lips. Her hand pressed and squeezed his cock as her tongue played with his. Her nipples tingled, she ached, her blood felt like liquid fire. Her every nerve wanted him. She unbuckled his belt, unclasped the clap of his pants, unzipped the zip; she stuck her thumbs in the sides of his slacks under the band of his underwear and in one smooth move had him exposed. His clothing was on the floor waiting for him to step free. She took a step back just to look at him. She licked her lips. God he was gorgeous. She did that end run with her tongue that he likes, and let her wet tongue travel the length of his face from under his chin across his lips over his nose, his eyes to the top of his head. Oh god, she wanted him to fuck her right now, just push her back, lift her skirt, and enter. She was hungry, hungry, hungry.
"Don, I don't know if I can wait. I want you inside."
"I know, babe, I know."
There was no slow removal of her clothes. No petting, no planting of wet kisses any and everywhere. They had wanted and waited too long. Her wish from just the moment before was granted. He pushed her skirt up around her hips. He smiled at just the garter belt, no panties. When he slid his finger into her slit, he knew he could take her, no foreplay, just go for the gold ring. He pushed her back, she spread her legs wide. He slid in. She flexed her vaginal muscles and tightly sheathed his cock. She wrapped her legs around him and their bodies set the rhythm, hot friction, his cock sliding in and out, her vaginal walls grasping and letting go. Her, "Oh, god yes, just fuck me" was met with his guttural growls of pleasure the deeper and faster he took her. Their timing was superb. Her hips arched, her vagina contracted mercilessly milking his seed. Their bodies spasmed together. He fucked her deeper, then deeper as she pushed up against him greedily accepting everything he gave her. The climax radiated through them in a single all-encompassing shudder. With one last thrust, they were spent and momentarily satisfied.
Uncoupling, he grabbed a pillow and placed it under his head. He pulled her into his arms, her head on his chest, her thigh lying across his, her hand touching him, coming to rest on his belly, her fingers swirling the little hairs. She looked up at him and smiled.
"I suppose, we should have talked more."
"We did fine," Don said.
Lyn smiled, "Yes we did."
She sat up. I want to look.
Her eyes traveled all along his body, then she let her hands follow her eyes. She touched and kissed him his entire length. She wanted to stir him up, get him hard and ready to spill for her again. She wanted to pleasure and be pleasured more.
She leaned down, her face hovering over his wet cock, saw the ejaculate drying. She kissed his belly, down to where his cock emanated from his groin. She tongued his cock, licking him clean. He groaned.
"Feels good, does it?"
She positioned herself face to cock, tits to belly, pelvis to chest. Her hands pressed against his inner thighs and he spread them. She gently lifted his scrotum, lapped her tongue over its entire surface. She mouthed each testicle as she felt his tongue tickle her clit. She squirmed. He held her thighs tight as he dipped his tongue in and out of her pleasure hole. She groaned and hungrily sought the head of his cock, sucking it into her mouth. She pressed it against the roof of her mouth, sucking in the same rhythm as his tongue slipping in and out of her pussy. As his cock got harder, she squeezed his balls, and took his cock into her mouth for its length. He was noisily feasting on her pussy, pushing his tongue in deep, his entire mouth taking in the soft pink lips, her clit. She loved the greedy sounds he was making. She wrapped her arms around his trunk so her hands could slid to the inside of this thighs and cradle his balls. Her head was rhythmically moving up and down as her mouth fully sheathed his cock, the head of it slamming into the back of her throat with every stroke. He was pushing his face into her cunt while pulling her hips into his face. With each push she felt his cock against the back of her throat. He was slurping and moaning as her sex juice gushed. Her fingers strayed to his anus. Gently she stroked. When he did not object, she unmouthed his cock so she could slicken her fingers. Again she sheathed him, deep throated him as she reached around his thigh and inserted her finger into his anus. He jerked and spasmed fucking her mouth, his salty nectar shooting into her throat. Groaning, his mouth, lips, teeth and tongue gorged on her pussy hungrily sucking her, tongue lapping taking her from one orgasm spiraling into the next until exhausted their bodies stilled, their faces buried in the others genitals. Then he tongued her again to see if she could take more. She sighed, she kissed his flaccid cock. She knew she would not be able to get him to such height again so soon, and selfishly, she settled in and would let him eat her until he had his fill or she could bear no more.
The clock on the nightstand told me I had slept for only thirty five minutes. Still on my back with my head on a pillow, I remembered that had been my posture when I had fallen asleep. But my view had changed. The one I remembered was Lyn's spread legs around me and her pivot within my tongue's reach, my hands locked on her ass and my thumbs below each cheek as I spread her to taste. Gone was the weight of her torso on mine. Her taste remained when I licked my lips, but she had somehow extricated herself from my feasting embrace to once again lay curled to me. Head on my chest and her thigh draped over mine, her hand rested at my root. Rest, remembrance, restoration. I felt my tree wakening to spring.
Fast asleep as she was, I remained still so as not to disturb the rest she would need. I chose, instead, to admire the woman who had now invited me for eight consecutive years. Lyn's hair was still thick. Its color had changed since our first time together, but it flattered her still-youthful features. Her back retained the lines of a young woman's back. The crease of her spine reflected the twist of her shoulders and her hips racked across me. The leg between mine showed the shapeliness of regular walking that would pop her calves and thighs when she wore her heels at the banquet. Her feet matched her hands, small but with a perfect grip for me.
As I assessed her body, I thought about the complexity of her personality. In the earliest year, we had been slower as we learned each other. The scattered clothing tonight strewn on the floor had back-then been scatterings on the bed as we came to understand our ardor and forget our carefulness with one another with each passing year. In the ones that followed, we pushed farther and finally came to know that there were no out-of-bounds to our lovemaking. Lyn could be the aggressor or the submissive personality—as could I. There had been occasions on which, like tonight, her intentions were clear and her lead had been strong. But there also been those years when she was a flirt and teased me to take her in any way or manner that I wished. But always we both managed to play both roles. Never-the-less, every single year we had found ourselves where we were now—together as familiar, though only annual, lovers. These reflections and reminiscences were all my member had needed.
Carefully slipping her sleeping hand to my cock, I whispered her name keeping the last letter stringing-out in a question.
"Lynnnn?"
