Time

I was totally freaking out. Ok, maybe freaking out wasn't the best way to put it. I admit I was a bit anxious. I couldn't stop fidgeting. I kept trying to ignore the time, but was checking it constantly. I had changed my outfit a total of eight times, and was still unsure that this was the right one. Did I put the beer in the fridge? Yes, yes I did. Did I? I got up to make sure I did and stopped myself. Damn, I was totally freaking out.

I stood in the space that separated the living room and the kitchen and stomped my foot. It wasn't like I was meeting the man for the first time. It wasn't like he hadn't seen every single part of me naked and splayed in various ways. Granted, that was ten years ago. Had it really been that long? I closed my eyes to try and stop the memories, but it only succeeded in making the images of that afternoon all the more vivid.

I could practically feel the texture of my old quilt balled up in my fist as the unfamiliar sensation of another person's body lowering itself on top of mine made my heart pound. The sound of the rain outside and our heavy breathing filling the room. The pinch of pain and then the waves of pleasure as he pushed himself inside of me, taking my virginity and, I didn't know it then, any possibility of ever having such wonderful sex ever again.

Wasn't it the experience of most people that their first time was awkward and awful? Not mine. None of the sex I had after that ever compared. At first I thought it was because I was romanticizing it too much in my head. Maybe I had put it on a pedestal and the fact that nothing else could reach it was some kind of mental block. But shouldn't that kind of mentality disappeared soon after? Shouldn't I be over it by now? Shouldn't I have found better and more interesting masturbation material after all these years?

I shook my head and opened my eyes, realizing that my pulse had quickened, along with my breathing. Images were still popping up in my head: Alan's lips as they closed around my nipple, the sound our flesh made rolling around in the sheets, the way my hand looked buried in his dark hair as he kissed his way down my body until he reached...

The knock at the door startled me so bad that I jumped and almost tumbled head first into the wall. A few unladylike words escaped my lips as I threw off the ridiculous heels I had always needed an excuse to wear, and made my way to the door. I took a deep breath and released it before I opened the door.

And there he was. He still wore his hair long, and his style hadn't changed much either, with is black t-shirt with long sleeve grey shirt underneath, jeans, and boots. He had filled out a little in the arms and chest, but no sign of anything extra in the stomach area. He had a small wooden box in his hands, about the size of a shoe box. Right when I realized that I was looking him up and down I shot my gaze back up to his face to find that he was doing the same to me.

"Do you always move around so much?" he asked, the corner of his mouth turning to a slight smile.

"What?" I asked, completely taken off guard by the question.

"Well," he started, taking a step forward to walk inside. I moved to the side to allow him to come in. "I got here a bit early, way early actually, so I sat in the car for a bit. I could see your silhouette walking back and forth through the curtains. When you finally stood still for a bit I decided it might be ok if I was fifteen minutes early."

"Oh. Oh! I was just tidying up a bit," I said, shutting the door and walking past him to get a couple beers out of the fridge, if I had remembered to put them in there. I heard him chuckle and I stopped and turned around to see what was so funny.

"Just like that, huh? I don't see you for ten years and you just walk past me, no hug or anything?" He had his arms open in invitation, and I smiled. I turned away and walked into the kitchen.

"I should punch you in the face," I said over my shoulder, opening the fridge and pulling out two beers. "Lucky for you I have changed over the years, and have learned to forgive." I opened the drawer and pulled out the bottle opener, popped the caps off the beer bottles and walked back out of the kitchen, beers in hand. He still had his arms open, that little smirk still playing on his face. "Oh, hell," I said, and put the beers down on the end table and walked towards him.

I got on my tip toes and wrapped my arms around his shoulders as he wrapped his around my waist. I had turned my face away from him, resting my cheek on his shoulder and I felt him rest his own cheek on the back of my head. He squeezed me tight and I squeezed him back, the feeling very familiar despite the passage of time. His body was harder than I remembered, and I rubbed my hand up and down his back, feeling the muscles underneath his shirt.

I could feel my body heat rising and started to pull away. He tightened his grip on me and lifted me up slightly, making me let out a surprised shriek and then we both laughed. He lowered me back down to the floor and let me pull away, both of us smiling at each other. I turned and grabbed the beers, noticing the small wooden box beside them. "So, what's in the box?" I asked as I handed him a beer, walking around the love seat to take my place on the sofa.

Alan picked up the box and followed me to the sofa, sitting beside me. "I stopped by my mom's place earlier and found this in my old room." He handed me the box, and I slid the top off to reveal a pile of pictures and some other papers. He laughed with me as I pulled out the first picture; me in an oversized pair of jeans and black spaghetti string tank top, my hair dyed Crayola red, bent over in laughter as Alan lay on the ground, covered in silly string.

"Your seventeenth birthday!" I exclaimed, laughing hardily as I stared at the picture in disbelief. "I remember picking out the brightest color I could find, just to annoy you." I slid the picture behind the rest to reveal the next one which was Alan and I, resplendent in all of our gothic glory, my hair blue this time and our demeanor dark and brooding. I held it up for him to see, and he rolled his eyes and laughed with me.

"Wait, you have to see this one," he said as he grabbed the pile from me, flipping through them quickly until he found the one he was looking for. "Ah-ha!" he bellowed in triumph, and held it up for me to see. It was a picture from a class trip to the beach, and while everyone else was in their bathing suits splashing around, Alan and I were in all black, my hair a faded green this time, hiding under the shade of a tree, arms crossed and looking miserable.

I busted out laughing, and snatched the picture from him. "Did you get this from the yearbook staff? I remember it was the picture I signed next to, the few times someone asked me for a signature." He snatched the picture back and looked at it again, erupting in a new wave of laughter.

"Yeah, Mark got it for me. I signed next to it, too. What did it say? Something like 'Most of the senior class enjoying Beach Day' or some shit?" He tossed the picture back at me, and I put it back in the pile.

"Something like that," I replied, giggling and leafing through the rest of the pictures slowly. I would occasionally hold one up to him and we would laugh together, recalling old memories. When I was done with the pictures I started looking at the papers. They were mostly fliers from bands he had seen, and a couple of notes we had written to each other that I couldn't bring myself to read, but I played it off by rolling my eyes and tossing them to the side. At the very bottom of the box was a picture turned upside down. I pulled it out and turned it over, a slight gasp coming out of me.

The picture was black and white, but I could still pick out the faint design that was printed on my old quilt. My back was to the camera and I was naked, the quilt folded over the swell of my hip and covering my legs. My back was milky white, and my hair, having to be it's natural blonde with how light it was, splayed out in a mess of curls across the pillow and my arm. The lighting was perfect, and the picture was beautiful. I looked up at Alan, knowing the answer to my question but I asked it anyway. "When did you take this?"

"That day." He took the picture from me and smiled in memory. He ran his finger over the image, tracing the curve of my back. "We had fallen asleep, and when I woke up I had to pee something fierce. When I came back, this is what I saw. I brought my camera out of my backpack and snapped it." He smiled a little bigger and looked at me.

I looked back down at the picture and cleared my throat a little. I didn't know what to say. "Only picture with my natural hair color," I said, and instantly felt stupid. I felt him shift a little and saw his arm rest on the back of the sofa from the corner of my eye.

"I always liked your natural color," he said, and he reached his hand towards my hair and lightly touched the patch of curls that were closest to him. You would have sworn all of my nerve endings were in my hair because at his touch, my whole body busted out in goose bumps even as my temperature started to rise. I shifted my gaze from the picture to his face while he looked at the hair he was touching. His eyes turned and locked with mine, and again the memories poured in; our skin smooth as it moved against each other's, his tongue in my mouth as he moved deep inside of me, the look on his face as I arched against him and tightened around him...

"Well!" I said, standing up, forgetting that the box was still on my lap. I grabbed at everything frantically before it fell and deposited it back in the box, placing it on the couch. "I am going...I am going to the restroom and then we can...uhm...go have some dinner or something," I fumbled. He looked up at me and nodded, and I practically ran to the bathroom. I hit my shoulder as I made my way around the corner and another profanity erupted from my mouth as went into the bathroom, closing the door behind me.

I leaned forward on my hands that I placed on the counter before I fell over. I let out a number of deep breaths before I looked at myself in the mirror. I was different now; surely he could see it. My jeans were no longer twenty sizes too big and my shirt didn't have a band logo on it, even if it was still black. I stood up and looked at myself. My jeans were much more fitting, my waist still trim. I stood staring at myself for a good few moments before I realized that I was taking way too much time in the bathroom. I flushed the toilet even though I hadn't used it and washed my hands. I took another deep breath and opened the door, making my way back to the living room.

I turned the corner to make my way down the hall and he was standing at the end of it, his back to me. As he heard me turn the corner he turned around and I walked up to him. He didn't move for me to get by so I just stood there, waiting for...well, I don't know what. He looked at me and took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. "Trish, can I be honest with you?" he asked, looking quite serious.

"Of course. Please," I said, feeling concerned all of the sudden. He nodded his head and then took a step forward, taking my face into his hands and placed his lips against mine. Fireworks, explosions, eruptions...the whole shebang happened instantly, and I reached to his chest to grab handfuls of his shirt to pull him closer to me. His hands moved from my face to wrap around me and pull me closer as my mouth opened and his tongue glided inside. I moaned loudly, as did he, and my hands released his shirt to slide to up the back of his neck to pull his face even harder against mine.

He started walking backwards into the living room, stealthily making his way around the love seat and back to the couch. He stood between me and the couch and slowly started to lower himself down, never breaking the contact between our lips, and I bent and lowered myself on top, straddling him. Alan's hands were on my hips while mine were on his face, my hair cascading over his face while we turned our heads side to side, our tongues colliding and sliding, bringing wave after wave of sensation all over my body.

I leaned back a little so that he would lean forward and I pulled the back of his shirt up, allowing him to break away for a moment to remove it. As soon as it was tossed aside our mouths were back at it, our kisses becoming longer and deeper. I moved my hands over his chest, shoulders, and arms, familiarizing myself with the skin that I remembered but the build that was new. Alan had moved his hands from my hips and slid them under my shirt, moaning into my mouth as his hand touched my flesh.

I broke away from the kiss so that he could pull my shirt off, and before I could latch back onto his lips he held me back, looking at my breasts in their black bra, hovering right in front of his face. I could feel my nipples pushing against the slightly padded fabric, and felt them get even harder when he placed a hand on the sides of each. He slowly started to move his thumbs over them, making my body jerk against him in response. He kept moving them as he looked up at me, and I smiled slightly as I reached behind me to unclasp my bra.

I let my arms hang at my sides and one of the straps fell down over my shoulder. Alan's gaze left my eyes as he looked at the fallen strap, then he reached up and slid the other over my shoulder, allowing my bra to slide off of my breasts slightly, but not completely. He kissed the tops of my breasts as he slid my bra off slowly, and I tossed it to the side as his mouth, warm and wet, clasped onto one of my nipples. I groaned and jerked against him again, my head falling back in revelry as my hand moved to the back of his head, pushing him closer to me.

His hands were back at my breasts, softly massaging them, his fingers playing with whichever nipple wasn't occupied by his mouth. I had started to grind against him, the feeling of his tongue flicking and licking, his teeth nibbling, making the heat inside of me roll like lava. I bent forward, hearing the suction of his mouth break away from me with a POP! and attacked his mouth with my own, our kisses now fevered and urgent.

I broke away to kiss down his cheek to his jawline, slightly rough from a light layer of stubble. I moved to his neck, and lifted one leg and then another to move between his, sliding my body down the front of his as I kissed my way down. I paused at his nipples to lick and suck them lightly, and could feel his stomach tighten against my body as I did so. I then licked my way down his smooth stomach, reaching for the fly of his jeans as I planted small kisses and licks across it. His fly was undone and the zipper down, and I opened his jeans to reveal the print of his boxers, his cock springing forward at it's new found freedom.

I just looked at it for a moment, taking in every vein and it's smooth skin as it arched towards his belly. Alan shifted to shimmy off his jeans, making me laugh a little because for a moment it looked like his cock was waving at me. He smiled at me as I helped him remove his jeans as boxers, just then realizing that he must have taken his boots off sometime earlier. I ran my hands up his firm thighs, shifting myself into a comfortable position as I leaned forward and kissed the shaft, making Alan take a quick breath between his teeth.

I reached out with my right hand and began to stroke him, slowly, looking up at his face as I used my thumb spread a bead of precum around the head. He took another quick breath and I stroked him up and down again, loving the feel of him in my hand. Another bead formed and I leaned forward, locking eyes with him as I opened my mouth and took him in, lowering my head down the length of him as far as I could go, his head hitting the back of my throat. I then closed my mouth around him and began to suck, feeling Alan lean back into the couch and thrust his hips forward slightly.

I moved my head up and down, my hand having a firm grip of his base and moving up and down with the motion of my head. My hand became wet with saliva, and it soon moved smoothly along the length of him. I increased the tempo and then decreased, feeling Alan's muscles tighten and loosen as I did so, his grunts and groans egging me on. I looked up at him and he lightly touched the side of my face, his hand moving up and down with me and then moving to bury itself in my hair.

I continued with his hand on the back of my head, never pushing, only going with the rhythm I chose. I was completely lost in pleasing him, when he suddenly leaned forward, making me dislodge him from my mouth and lean back. I was going to ask him what was wrong, but he slid down onto his knees beside me and pulled me to him for a long, deep kiss. I felt myself melting in his arms as he placed his hands under my arms and pushed me up, making me break from the kiss and scoot up onto the couch.

He reached towards the fly of my jeans, and I laid back, slightly askew, one leg still planted on the floor and the other along the length of the couch, my head back on a throw pillow that rested against the arm. With the button undone and the fly down, he slid his hands up my thighs and pulled towards him, my underwear coming off with my jeans. He threw them behind him and looked down between my legs, his look determined and hungry.

His hands made their way slowly up my inner thighs, resting them at the top and his thumbs pressing against my lips, moving up and down. I gasped a little and then leaned back into the pillow, watching his face as his thumbs moved. Then he spread my lips apart, his face softening at the sight me spread open before him. I felt my pussy twitch as he gazed at it, and a small smile spread across his lips. He looked up at me and then back down, and started to lean forward.

His hands spread my legs even further apart and then his face disappeared as his tongue went right to my opening, causing yet another uncontrollable jerk to thrust up from my hips. He made a very loud MMMMM noise and moved his tongue in and out and then began to move it upwards in one long, agonizing lick. I grabbed the arm of the couch with one hand and the back of it with my other and dug my fingers in, sure that I would float away and die if I didn't have a grip on something. His face became more visible as he licked his way up, his eyes closed in bliss. He opened his eyes to look at me, and then disappeared again, repeating the assault on my pussy.

He moved his face away and then slid two fingers inside of me, curling them towards my belly and hitting the spot only he had ever been able to hit. I arched my back at the feeling, my head sliding back, and then felt his tongue on my clit, making me call out as it glided up and down, round, and side to side. No matter how hard I tried to fight it I came hard, squeezing his fingers and thrusting my hips against his face. I felt him growl against me as I came and I knew I had given him exactly what he wanted.

I eased back into the couch and whimpered as he slowly pulled his fingers out of me, making new spasms erupt all over me. My head had ended up under the pillow somehow and I uncurled my hand from the armrest to throw it off of me. I was breathing hard, and somehow found the energy to lift my head, looking down just as Alan was lifting his face from between my legs. Everything beneath his nose was glistening and I felt a new surge of lust flow through me as I sat up and leaned forward to kiss him, tasting myself on his lips.

He stood slightly, still kissing me, and rolled onto the couch sitting up, pulling me on top of him. I broke away to adjust myself, reaching down to take ahold of him and placing his head right at my opening. I looked up at him and we locked eyes as I slowly started to ease my onto him, feeling him stretch me so that we were a perfect fit. When he was deep inside of me I broke the eye contact to lean my head back, feeling my hair tickle the middle of my back as I started to move slowly against him.