She was glad he kept in touch. As her first ever lover, despite the passing of a decade and a half since they split up, there was always a place for him in her life.
They had always stayed friends, had occasionally screwed in the first few years after they broke up. He had attended her wedding, by then recognised by the friends and family of Ellen as an old friend, a reliable confidante, but nothing else. Ellen's new husband seemed altogether a better mate. Handsome and confident, a senior airline pilot and with the wealth to give her the life she wanted, the big house and the smart cars, he was a dead cert for her husband the day she met him on the ski slope.
Greg had drifted out of her life pretty much. A couple of hundred miles between homes, her life and his own career were moving on and contact had descended to the odd Christmas card, birthday greeting and finding out what the other was doing through their mothers, who had remained friends.
It had probably been five years since they last sat and talked, had lunch and genuinely knew what the other was up to. She thought about him from time to time, as he did of her, but for no particular reason other than to wonder where each other was and was doing.
Then he showed up on her doorstep one weekday afternoon. No call, no warning - just walking up to the house like it was something he did every day. She was just pulling off the drive in her Porsche Cayenne 4x4 and there he was. Slight disbelief was replaced by slight suspicion and some delight that he was there. That same old smile delivered so easily, as always, reminded her that they were above all, the oldest of friends. She quickly put off her appointment for a couple of hours.
Over coffee they traded where they were in life, enjoyed the nostalgia of remembering the good times they had spent together and the people they had known. He still crossed paths with some of them, she had left them all behind to embark on a new life path. An enjoyable afternoon was wrapped up with an invite from Greg to join her for dinner at his hotel. He was down on business for a couple of days. She was alone while her husband was away yet again.
What the hell - she could think of no reason not to - when she was prepared to admit it to herself, she was often lonely. The 'friends' she had now were the facile sort that come with wealthy dinner parties. Everyone interested and at the same time totally disinterested in what each other was doing, unless there was something in it for them. In this moment she was realising how much she missed a real friend. Greg was always a real friend.
Having dressed for her 'date' she felt her spirits lifting at the prospect. As usual she had heard nothing from her absent husband, which had all served to ease the guilt she might have felt at having to explain where she was going. When she left for the evening she had anticipated nothing more than a good meal and some friendly company.
Dinner at his hotel was marvellous. Excellent food, a couple of bottles of wine and after an hour or so of the usual verbal dodging of intimacy, soon her guard was down and she found herself revealing more and more of how she felt about where her life was. She admitted that her marriage was strangely hollow and that there was almost no intimacy between her and her husband.
She pressed him on his life. He remained single and admitted to having no special relationship at the moment. He was enjoying his business installing networks, security devices and communications for businesses, but his passion in his spare time he loosely described as 'photography'. When she took more interest in this he told her of his studio next to the house, which sounded fantastic itself, and she left it at that. She never thought that in time this might become part of her own life.
Pushed further by Greg, she offered the theory that she was sure her husband was fucking around and that despite the fact she was still cute by anyone's standards, he hadn't fucked her in over a year. Shamefully she admitted that it was his money and the comfortable lifestyle that it provided that kept them together.
At this point Greg turned the conversation particularly to sex, reminded her of the endless fucking they enjoyed when they were younger. Both of them had been highly sexed and they had tried everything they could together, first everything's, including a painful attempt at anal, which she had never repeated after such a clumsy first try.
A fantastic first lover to him, she had been happy to watch porn together and had confessed fantasies of bisexuality with her large breasted best friend and even the older woman next door for whom she house sat; trying a black cock; multiple partners at once, male or female and being used as a cum slut - she just loved it when he came inside her or spunked over her small breasts.
Greg turned up the heat by constantly steering the conversation back to these topics. Ellen had eventually left him when she went to university all those years ago and he had always enjoyed getting his own back on her new lovers by fucking her when she came home for the holidays. For her part, Ellen was always up for a sly fuck on a weekday afternoon while the rest of the world was at work. As she said to Greg once, 'It saves me having to go home for a wank'. More often than not, she had done both...
It was like he opened a door in her mind to the way she used to be. That healthy sex drive she had enjoyed and then subverted was knocking at that door. It was soon apparent to her that nobody knew she was here, nobody expected her anywhere tonight and that an opportunity for some release was starring her in the face. She knew she could trust Greg. He had never let those post relationship fucks become anything else and why would it be any different now.
