The Tal

Twenty-six year old Michael had just gotten off work and walked through his front door when his mobile rang. He sighed and put his keys on the island in the center of his kitchen.

"Can't they give me any bloody peace?" he said as he pulled his mobile from his pocket. To his surprise, however, it wasn't work calling him like they usually did when he walked through the door. There was no contact information for the number, but he recognized it anyway. "Good afternoon, Nicole," he said as he answered the phone. Nicole was his ex-girlfriend who worked in an office on the other side of town. They had broke up over a year previously, just before Christmas. Since then, his life had turned around completely and he was doing quite well for himself. Last he had heard, she was not. In fact, this is the first time he had heard from her in any form since they had broken up.

"Hey Michael, how are you?" Her tone was casual, but she couldn't hide the nervousness in her voice. Michael could tell she wasn't sure how he'd react to her calling him out of the blue.

"I'm fine. How about yourself?"

"I'm okay." There was a long pause on the other end of the mobile. The kind of pause somehow does when they're trying to think of the best way to say something. "Listen, I know this is sudden, and you probably will say no, but would you mind grabbing a coffee with me or something? I just... I really need to talk to someone and you're the only person I could think of." Michael was silent for a long time. What the hell could she possibly want to talk to him about after forgetting he even existed for nearly fifteen months?

"I actually just walked through the door after working all day. Was going to put on dinner and relax."

"Oh," Nicole said. The disappoint in her voice was clear. "Okay, well, I just thought..."

"But if you want to come over, I can make some extra and we can talk about whatever you'd like." He wasn't sure why he said it. He wanted to see her, regardless of what had happened in their past. His biggest flaw was that he was too nice, too forgiving. His friends had always told him that.

"Sure," she said another long pause. "I'd like that." Michael gave her his address, one of the only things that had changed since they had broken up. "You live there? Wow, that's incredible."

"Just give my name to the guard at the gate; I'll let him know that you're coming and he should let you in without any trouble."

"Okay," Nicole said, a hint of anticipation in her voice. "I'll see you in about an hour, okay? I just need to finish up a few things at work." Michael held his mobile to the side of his head for several minutes after she had hung up. Her voice had been the same as ever, sounding just like she had when she was a teenager. He had missed those days.

Nicole and Michael had met when they were fourteen years old. At the time, Nicole had been dating one of Michael's friends, but they had never even kissed. They'd broken up shortly after and Michael's friend had introduced them. They hit it off nearly instantly, but didn't start "officially" dating until Michael's homecoming his freshman year of high school. They spent the next ten years together, through high school, his college education, and most of hers. Then, two Christmases prior, she had suddenly decided she didn't want to date him anymore and had simply told him that she was done and left. He hadn't heard anything from her, even by proxy, since.

Michael put the mobile next to his keys on the island and walked towards the master bathroom on the eastern wing of his house, just off the master suite. He had wanted to get a smaller house, but since the president of the company he worked for had given it to him as a work perk, he didn't complain too much. Sure, it was expensive to maintain and the taxes were higher than he would have liked, but he made more than enough to manage it. Thoughts of his time spent with Nicole flowed through his mind like an ocean in a storm as he stripped naked and stepped into his shower, hoping the hot water would soothe away the weariness and trepidation. As steam filled the shower and the hot droplets cascaded down his back, Michael lost himself into memory.

He was jarred out of his memories by the sound of the doorbell ringing. It was a deep, two-note sound that echoed throughout the empty house, reaching Michael in his solace. He turned the water off and held his breath, wondering if he actually heard it or if it was just his thoughts running wild. The bell sounded again, sounding louder now that the water wasn't running.

"Damn it," he said, grabbed a large, black towel from the towel rack and wrapping it around his waist. He slipped his feet into a matching pair of polyester bath slippers. He shivered slightly as he opened the door, his wet skin hitting the cooler air of the hallway. The doorbell rang a third time and he hurried down the hall and through the parlor to the foyer. He reached out towards the double doors and turned one of the handles, pulling it open towards him. There stood Nicole.

She was just as beautiful, if not more so, than Michael remembers. Her thick, curly brown hair hung around her shoulders, draping slightly over a powder blue button-on shirt with darker horizontal blue lines. Michael's breath paused in his throat. It had been his favorite shirt that she owned. Her deep chocolate eyes stared at him from beneath her bangs. They had that same innocent twinkle he'd seen in them when they first met. As his eyes slid down her body, taking in the fullness of her large breasts, the slenderness of her hips and waist, to the black skirt with matching stockings that she wore, Michael felt a sudden deepness in his heart. Sorrow.

His eyes dropped to her black high heels and then shot instantly back to her eyes. He noticed that her eyes were just coming to meet his as well. Michael started breathing again when their eyes met and she flashed him a smile. It made his knees weak to look at.

"Hi," he said, staring at her some more. "I was, um, in the shower. I guess I lost track of the, um, time." Nicole smiled again, revealing her perfect white teeth once more. Michael opened his mouth to say more and closed it instantly.

"So are you going to invite me in or just stand there in a towel?" she asked. Michael looked down.

"What? Oh, right." He backed away from the door. "Please, come in. I'm sorry. Let me just change quick." He led her into the parlor before continuing on into his bed room. Closing the door behind him, he pressed his back to it and ran a hand through his wet hair. "Bloody hell," he said out loud. "Pull yourself together." He swallowed hard and moved over to his bureau, pulling out a plain black t-shirt and a pair of grey cargo pants. After putting on a pair of socks and leather work boots, he took a deep breath and stepped out into the hallway. "I'm sorry about that," he said as he came into the parlor. "I was in the shower and thinking about..."

"Me?" Nicole interrupted. Michael stared at her with his mouth open. Nicole laughed slightly. "That's what I would have been doing if this had been the other way around. My old flame calls me after a year and a half without so much as a word and he suddenly wants to see me? I'd be thinking about it in a long, hot shower, too." She laid back into the couch, sinking slightly into the plush blue velvet. "You've done well for yourself," she said, looking around the room.

"I guess," was all he could say. He had never liked showing off. Nicole turned back to look at him.

"I saw the car in the driveway. Your dream car isn't it?" Michael nodded. "I'm happy for you," Nicole said, beaming. "Really, I am." Nicole crossed her legs and the two fell into a long silence.

"What do you want for dinner?" Michael asked after five minutes. Nicole closed her eyes. Michael saw that she was wearing just a hint of purple eye shadow. That was unusual. He had never remembered her to wear makeup.

"I'm fine for anything," she said. Michael smiled at her and walked into the kitchen, opening a few cabinets and taking out some pots.

"We'll go with a simply spaghetti and meatball dinner then," he called into the parlor. He filled the largest silver pot nearly halfway with water before placing it on the stovetop and turning it on. The much smaller pot he put the tomato sauce in, but didn't turn the heat on. Lastly, he put a dozen meatballs into the oven.

While he was preparing dinner, Nicole got off the couch and slowly walked around the parlor, looking at everything. She could probably fit her entire apartment into this one room. There were two large couches, one a sectional sofa and the other a simple loveseat. They were a dark blue, contrasting the beige carpets but somehow looking good with it. Along the wall with the windows was a fireplace that stood at least as tall as Nicole. The opposite wall, the one with the kitchen on the other side, displayed a plasma television. The last wall, to Nicole's right, was line with a dozen bookcases that were filled with books ranging from such things as "Lord of the Rings" to "War and Peace." One thing that bothered her, however, was that there wasn't a single picture in the room. While she hadn't expected any of her, naturally, she thought he might at least have a picture of his friends or family.

"How do you like it?" Michael asked, coming back into the room. Nicole turned to look at him. His black hair was still wet and slicked back. He wasn't wearing glasses like he used to, but his eyes were still that shade of silver she had adored for so many years.

"You're not wearing glasses," she said, blurting out her first thought. Michael smiled.

"I had laser surgery a few months ago, shortly after my mother had it. I still wake up freaking out that I lost or broken them or something, but then I realize I can see properly now." He chuckled slightly and walked forward, handing her a glass of red wine. Nicole took the glass with a slight nod of thanks and took a sip. "So what did you want to talk to me about?" he asked. She stood facing the window and took another sip of wine.

"Do you remember that time," she began, "when we had a huge fight at my parents' house. After it was over, I ran down to my bedroom and sat on the floor under the window and cried while you sat on the couch and stared out the window." She smiled slightly. "I thought you were going to leave. I didn't expect you to come down to the bedroom and..." she let the sentence hang. Michael fully remembered that time, and what had happened next.

Nicole had just woken up not ten minutes before Michael had come over. She was wearing a plain cotton t-shirt and white pajama pants with hearts on them. No sooner had he walked in the day than had she started on him about spending time with another girl instead of spending time with her. His counter-argument had been that she had plenty of male friends. He should be allowed to have female friends. The argument had spiraled down from there with neither side wanting to give in for the sake of ending the argument.

Michael walked into Nicole's bedroom and looked around. She still had the balloon he had given her for her eighteenth birthday; somehow it was still floating even though her birthday had been three months previously. He glanced down at her. She was curled up on the floor under the windows to the right of the door, hugging a teddy bear he had gotten her for her sixteenth birthday. She wasn't crying; the fight wasn't that bad. She looked up at him, brushing a few strands of her unruly hair away from her face. She opened her mouth to say something angry, but closed it.

Michael moved closer and dropped to her knees. Reaching for the waistband of her pajamas, he pulled them down to reveal her plain cotton panties. His eyes locked on to hers as he pulled these down as well. Both her panties and her pajamas were around her feet now. Michael still remember that her mother and brother could be home at any moment and wanted her to be able to dress quickly if she had to. Being angry at someone wasn't a good enough reason to get them both into trouble.

He licked his lips as he stared at his girlfriend's pink pussy. It was bare, as it had been since shortly after they had met, and was just as inviting as ever. Michael dropped to his stomach and pulled her legs up. Her legs were on either side of his head and her fingers tangled through her hair as he buried his tongue in her pussy. Her back arch as his tongue explored her, swirling around her insides. He rubbed her clit with his thumb as he continued to eat her out, eliciting various moans from her lips. Nicole squeezed her legs around his head, but he kept licking the inside of her delicious pussy. Pushed her thighs higher, Michael moved his tongue to her ass. He had only licked it twice when Nicole pulled him up to her, slipping her own tongue into his mouth.

The two let their tongues dance as Nicole fiddled with Michael's pants, finally undoing his belt and zipper. As his hard, six-inch cock dropped out of his pants, Nicole took it into her hand and pumped a few times before positioning it in front of her eagerly awaiting pussy. With their tongues still intertwined, Michael moved forward, his cock spearing into Nicole's pussy. Both of them gasped at the sensation into each other's mouth. No matter how many times they had sex, the first penetration was always the best.

Nicole ran her hands under Michael's shirt as he began to thrust in and out of her, his balls slapping loudly against her ass. The only sound they had to compete with was her moans of pleasure as his cock went deeper. She dug her nails against his skin, pulling him as deep into her as she could. She moved one of her hands from him and slid it down her front to tease her clit as his cock slid in and out of her rapidly. Michael looked down. Her large breasts, still covered by her shirt, were bouncing freely in time with his thrusts. Michael kissed her again before pulling away.

"Where do you want me to cum?" he asked. It had been a few weeks since they had sex last and he wasn't able to go as long as he usually could. Plus, it was angry, make-up sex. Nicole pulled her shirt up, revealing her D-cup breasts. Her nipples were dark and large, but Michael loved them.

"Here," she whispered softly, turning her head to the side. A look of pure ecstasy was on her face. She furrowed her brow, beaded with sweat, and moaned again. Michael pulled out of her and pointed his cock at her breasts. Three large spurts landed on them, one covering her right nipple entirely. He sat back on his heels, watching as Nicole pulled her right breast up to her mouth and sucked the cum off her nipple. She looked at his cock when she had finished and crawled closer, lowering her mouth over it.

Michael moaned as his cock hit the back of her throat. Nicole had never really been one for giving blow jobs, but on the rare occasions that she did, they were amazing. She rubbed his balls as her head bobbed up and down, her tongue running along the underside of his shaft as she pulled up and swirling around the head before she went back down. She pulled away, taking his balls into her mouth and sucking gently as her hand wrapped around his rigid shaft and pumped up and down. His balls tightened and she enveloped him with her mouth again as he came, a much smaller load than previously, but still enough to cause her to cough. They looked at each other as Nicole drew away from his softening cock. She ran her fingers over her breasts, scooping up every last drop of cum and licking her fingers clean.

"That was incredible," Michael said breathlessly. Nicole smiled and nodded.

"But I'm not done with you yet," she said, pulling him back down to her. He slipped his cock back into her eager pussy and began to thrust. It hurt at first because he had came so recently, but he was used to things like that. Their lack of their own living arrangements and parents who tended to be nosy and untrusting made sex a "whenever we can the chance" thing. Michael groped her breasts, biting lightly on one of her nipples. He could feel Nicole's pussy quiver around him as she came. The slamming of a car door stopped not only the sex, but Michael's memory of the event.