"I don't have anything on underneath," she said, smoothing the material of the white linen dress as she sat down... further tantalizing me as she slowly crossed her beautiful long tanned legs.
Stunning... absolutely fucking stunning
... those had been the thoughts that had filled my mind as I had watched her make her ass swinging way the 15 or 20 feet from the entrance of the hotel bar to where I was sitting.
"Damn," I had muttered as I had gotten up to greet her. "That's a great looking dress and you look unbelievably good." That's when she had uttered those words. "I don't have anything on underneath."
"Jesus," I exclaimed. "Makes me think about getting my head between your bare thighs."
She giggled. "Which one of those big heads of yours are you talking about?"
"I'll want both of them there... but first I want to taste your sweet juices while I tongue your pussy."
Lust was now in full bloom in her deep dark eyes. "Tongue my pussy?"
"Yeah. Tongue your pussy." I paused as visions of swollen, wet, pussy lips, danced through my brain. "I want to make you cum with my tongue... one of those screaming, body shaking orgasms you used to have. Then I'm going to fuck you."
She uncrossed her legs... then crossed them again as she squirmed in her chair. While she didn't answer there was no question she remembered so I pressed forward.
"I'd love to bend you over that chair right now. Jerk that dress up over your ass and go to work on your pussy with my tongue."
I watched as she continued squirming, apparently trying to press the cheeks of her ass down into the chair as if the smooth leather was my face. "Up over my ass?" She murmured, her eyes nearly closed.
"Yeah. Up over your ass," I managed before the waitress interrupted.
"Can I get you a drink?"
"Two dirty vodka martinis and two glasses of water, please," I said without lifting my eyes.
"Very dirty," she added, eyes now wide open.
My cock immediately began to soften. Although our eyes remained unblinking locked for more than a minute, the spell was broken. Looking away, she laughed. "I don't think it was exactly the Heimlich maneuver she performed but there's no question I was just saved by the waitress."
Deciding to continue on the offensive... I pressed the attack. "I had your ass bent over that chair and my tongue in your pussy."
"Yes." She paused... apparently contemplating the position of her ass and my tongue. "Yes, you did."
It had been several years since I last had her in such a position although I could still remember it as if it where yesterday.
Skin smooth as silk... small taut breasts with long hard nipples... narrow waist... nearly perfect ass... beautiful long supple legs... wet swollen lips.... incredibly tight pussy.
Yes... I definitely remembered. No way I could ever forget how it was with her... how she looked and felt... the hot wild sex... and there was no doubt that it was imbedded in her mind just as deeply as it was in mine. I wanted her again... to relive those wild times... to feel her... smell her... taste her... eat her... fuck her.
"They're not dirty enough." She jolted me back to the present.
"Not dirty enough?"
"The martinis. They need more olive juice."
"Oh. Okay. I'll get some."
"Just sit still. The waitress can bring it," she said, waving for attention before continuing. "What were you just thinking about? You looked like you were in some sort of a trance."
"Nothing real important." I said, utilizing an exaggerated pause for effect. "Just thinking about our past sex... about my tongue in your pussy."
"Not important, huh?" She stared into my eyes... trying to figure out if I was serious.
"Nah." Once again I paused to study her reaction. "It was just sex." I hesitated again... then reached over and took her hand. "Just sex. Just the wildest, hottest, best fucking sex of my life."
Lust had made its way back into her eyes. "Best of your life?"
"Absolutely. The best of my life."
She looked at me for a long time, still firmly clasping my hand. "Mine too."
She let go of my hand to pick up the half full cocktail glass of olive juice the waitress placed on the table. Adding some to each of our glasses, she took a sip. "That's much better." Grinning, she looked at me for a few seconds before continuing. "Saved again. This waitress has perfect timing."
I grinned. "I wouldn't call it perfect. Poor would be my word choice."
She laughed. "Keeps getting in your way, does she?"
I laughed with her. "Yeah. Sure does. It's as if she's trying to keep my tongue in my mouth."
She laughed. "Maybe she's heard how dangerous an instrument it is?"
"Someone must have been talking?"
"Maybe one of those young hotties you're always fucking?"
"I doubt that."
Her voice dripping with sarcasm, she continued. "Oh yeah. I keep forgetting. You're in a 'relationship' now. Aren't you?"
"Yes, I am. But what's that got to do with it. You're in a 'relationship' yourself."
"Mine's different. I'm not living with anyone. You might as well be married."
"Yours is different all right. You're always taking some exotic trip somewhere. I'm stuck here."
"You're not stuck. You're exactly where you want to be. If you weren't you wouldn't be there."
"Okay," I said. "What does my relationship, or yours for that matter, have to do with me and you?"
"Actually a lot. You act like you can't live without me but you're living with someone else."
"I wasn't the one who moved away. I was seriously considering spending the rest of my life with you and you wanted to open another office in another city. You were more interested in growing your business than you were in growing our relationship."
"Did you make a commitment to me?"
"More so than you did. Who wrote all those passionate love letters you have stored in those boxes?"
Love and passion once again made an appearance in her eyes as she stared at me.
I leaned over and kissed her... her lips were wet and inviting... our kiss became passionate... tongues probing, flicking, dancing the dance of lovers as my hand slid up the smooth skin of the inside of her thigh.
She pulled back to look at me. My cock was once more seeking expansion room in my tight jeans.
I pressed forward. "You still have those letters, don't you?"
She took a long drink from her water glass. "Every one of them."
"Your family and friends are going to read them someday and a lot of them have some pretty descriptive sex scenes."
"That's okay. I'm not worried about that. Most people never in their life experience love like it is described in those letters."
"I know." Pausing to look in her eyes. "Somehow we let it get away from us."
"Yes we did. We should have had that beautiful baby we talked about."
"Yeah, we should have. It would have been one beautiful kid, and smart too. I know you would have been a wonderful mother."
"And we would have probably stayed together."
"You would have had a difficult time running me off."
"I wouldn't have wanted to."
I kissed her again. This time it was soft, warm and loving. "I love you, Baby," I whispered softly.
"I love you too," she murmured, as we continued to kiss. My hand had now made its way to the top of the inside of her thigh as our tongues continued their dance.
She suddenly pulled back. "They're watching us."
I didn't bother to look. Instead I attempted to resume the kiss and to reestablish my hand position.
She stopped my hand. "They can see what we're doing."
"See what? Two people kissing?"
"They can see your hand up my dress?"
"If it's up your dress how can they see it?"
"You know what I mean. They know what you're doing."
"That just makes it more exciting."
"People will be talking about us."
"What can they say? It ain't like we're fucking?"
"They'll tell everyone what is happening."
"If it bothers you then let's get out of here."
"We can't."
"We can't? Why not? I know I want you and you know you want me."
"It's not that simple."
"Actually it's not that complicated. Let's go somewhere and get this over with."