Early Morning Memory

It's 4:48 AM by the clock on the nightstand. I can hear you stirring behind me in the bed, your arm reaches out instinctually to find my waist and snuggle in. Knowing how hard I find it to sleep without you, I wonder do you do that even when I'm away, and when you find the bed empty, do you clutch the pillows close and pretend it's me?

I'm watching the snow fall outside the window, dusting the sleepy city with a gentle quietness. Soon the busses will start rolling and the streets will clog with impatient commuters off to another day in the office while we stay inside, steaming the windows with our lovemaking. Behind me, you stir and ask what I'm doing standing half naked in front of the window like that. "Do you want to the neighbors to see?" you ask teasingly, knowing how I secretly enjoy the thrill of being seen.

I tell you it is snowing, like that first day we met 15 years ago. "Snow always reminds me of that day." I murmur as you step behind me and wrap your arms around my waist. You press your mouth into my neck, nuzzling me with your sleepy face. You kiss me behind the ear and ask me what I remember. I begin to tell you the story of how you found me, cold and lost in the snow, a 16 year-old runaway, and took me in.

I tell you how I came to love and respect you, like a father–you were twice my age, after all–wanting only to make you proud. I told you how I'd wanted to earn your approval, but that deep down, beyond my love for you as a father-figure, I found you to be the most attractive man alive and what I wanted more than approval sometimes was the thrill of your body very close to mine.

As I talk you unbutton my nightshirt and slip it from my body so you can caress my belly, my arms in the watery morning light. The fabric pools on the floor at my feet, still slightly warm and the air in the chilly air sends a shiver down my spine. I watch your hands moving over my skin, just barely touching the surface avoiding the curve of my small breasts, setting every hair on end. In the pre-dawn light my skin is white-blue, yours a darker blue, my hardening nipples seem almost mauve.

I tell you how, that first night I spent in your house, I wanted to sneak into your bed and curl up beside you. "No one had ever been so kind to me as you were that day. I'd wanted to thank you the only way I knew how; with my body, but somehow I knew you were different from the other men, that you expected something else, something more meaningful than sex-- my trust I guess." You nod, your face still pressed into my neck and murmur something affirmative, your fingers tracing circles closer and closer to my puckered nipples.

"I thought my attraction would be replaced by a familial love over time, that your kindness would make an honest woman of me, so to speak. And I did come to love you like that, but everything was flavored with an unspoken sexual desire ... one I couldn't push away."

Your strong hands spread over the flesh of my small breasts, kneading them till they're warm as your palms. "I felt it too." you mumble, stroking my breasts. "Oh how I wanted to touch you like this back then." You lean against me, I can feel your growing cock against the small of my back, and press one nipple against the cold window glass. I groan a little and my nipple goes hard immediately, little shivers running through me. I love the cold on my skin and the way, once I've pulled away, my nipple burns hot from the slight shock.

You know me so well after all these years and I go weak in your hands. You continue to knead my breasts, warming them again, and then repeat the motion, nudging me forward to press my tit against the pane, to chill my nipples one at a time. Each time I can't help but moan, the sensation of cold then the hot of your palms makes my body quiver. I press back against you to feel the hardness of your cock on my back.

You remind me that I was underage then, the first years we were together, and that no matter what you'd felt for me you knew you couldn't act on it. And so we lived for a year and a half as a legal guardian and his ward; you provided me with all the necessities and had me tutored to catch up with the school I had missed as a run-away, kept me off drugs and away from the violence I'd lived with the years before I met you. I did what was asked of me, grateful for the chance to live life safely again, and to forget about the things that had happened to me when I lived on the streets.

You are working my nipples with your fingertips now, pinching them gently, then rolling them against your hot palms. I hear my breathing quicken as I continue the story, my body melting under your skilled hands. Despite the cold I can feel my face is flushed, my body heating up.

"I don't know when it happened exactly, but somewhere around my 18th birthday I became distinctly aware of what turning 18 could mean for us. We talked about personal saving accounts and the possibility of me going away to college, but my mind was preoccupied with other, more secret thoughts."

You agree, saying you thought of nothing else for a month or more. "I was thinking of this ..." you slide one hand from my breast and cup the front of my pussy as you pull me close and begin to sway a bit, pressing your cock against my back. "I was thinking of it all the time, I couldn't help trying to imagine your sweet pussy."

Your voice pronouncing that word makes me moan and press my ass against your thighs. I lean forward a bit and press my face against the cold glass of the window. I feel you move a bit, bending your knees to slide your erect penis against the flesh of my ass. We rock here like this, the length of your cock pressed into my ass cheeks, one hand still stroking my breast. You whisper "tell me more" as we sway.

"Remember my birthday? How awkward dinner was, how dull the movie seemed. We drove home in silence, you could have cut the air with a knife, it was so thick with tension. All I could think about was wanting to touch you, to talk about my feelings, but I didn't know how. And do you remember how once we got inside and had taken off our overcoats, our snowy shoes and wet socks, we just stood there staring at each other in the darkness?"

You whisper "yes... yes. I remember" as you slide one hand around behind me and move it slowly, slowly against my ass stroking yourself between your nimble fingers and the flesh of my butt. Your other hand is busy clutching my tit, squeezing gently in a rhythm like a heartbeat.

"I remember staring, absolutely frozen, as you undid your tie and let it fall to the floor. I watched your fingers work the button at your neck, then each sleeve cuff, then slowly, slowly the loop of your belt. And then I felt myself moving, barely aware of doing it consciously, reaching up to pull the black cashmere sweater over my head. It was all in slow motion, like something from a dream."

You nod approvingly, stroking your cock as you listen.

"I remember how my hands shook as I fumbled with the zipper on my skirt. I got it undone and let it slide down my thighs just as you slipped your feet from the legs of your trousers. Then you slid your boxers off and I had my first glimpse of your cock."

I close my eyes and bend over a bit as I say that word. "Mm... oh Parker, your cock is so fantastic." I stand on my tiptoes, trying to move against you; I want to feel it sliding down to my pussy lips, but you whisper "Not yet... " and continue stroking yourself against my ass. "Tell me more."

"You touched me first, but barely, just enough to slide your fingers under the straps of my bra and slide them down my arms. You watched my small breasts pop from the cups of my bra and for a minute I felt self-conscious of how small they were. I searched your face for disappointment but you unfastened the clasp, slid the bra from my arms and whispered, '... perfect ...' as you knelt in front of me".

"They are perfect, sweetie." You whisper now as you stop stroking yourself to concentrate on kneading both of my breasts. "I can't imagine a better pair."

Your hands working together on my nipples makes my body sing with desire. I move my legs apart slightly, giving you the signal, and unconsciously arch my back as your warm hands slide down from tits to cup my pussy mound from the front. You leave them there, not moving just pressing against my warm, bare skin, and tell me to continue the story, to tell you what happened next. It is agony having your hand against me but barely touching, but I like it too, the sense of anticipation; every nerve in my body is alive and taut, waiting for the relief of motion.

"You knelt in front of my and removed my panties. It was so exciting, being undressed by you, knowing you were finally close enough to touch, and I seem to remember that was when I finally did touch you, reaching down to slide my fingers through your curly hair. I wanted to press your face into my thighs and feel your breath on my skin, but all I did was twirl my fingers through your hair and let you carefully move my feet from the leg holes of my panties."

Your hands reach down a bit and pull open the lips of my pussy. The air is cold on my exposed sex but soon your fingers slide inward and begin to stroke the wet inner lips of my cunt. Your breath is hot against my neck I hear you whisper how lovely I was, how lovely I am now.

I press back against you and I spread my legs a bit more. Your fingers keep moving, slowly, slowly against my open lips, every once in a while touching my clit, sending shivers through my body and making me groan.

"What then?"

"Then you told me to put my hands on your shoulders and you stood, carrying me to your bedroom, your arms wrapped around my hips, your face pressed against my side. You lifted me easily and laid me down on the bed with such tenderness I felt weightless, like I was floating.

"Do you remember what I did then?" I ask.

"I remember ..."

"Tell me."

"I remember. You spread your legs. I was just standing at the side of the bed, staring at you, not sure I could move, not sure we should go on with it, and you spread your legs open and touched each of my hips with the tips of your toes."

I can feel your cock still pressed between my ass cheeks, slippery with pre-cum, and throbbing a bit against my skin. I lean against the window pane and let you rock yourself against me for a while. Your fingers have begun to stroke my cunt more insistently, digging against my inner lips, sliding now and again against the tender opening of my vagina, making me jump.

"Then you used your fingers and opened yourself up all the way. You pulled the lips of your pussy open, showing yourself to me. It was ... incredible."

In the fifteen years since we've been lovers you've grown more and more skilled in reading my body's signals. You know just where to touch, how hard, how long. You can bring me to a powerful orgasm with only your fingers, without ever entering me, and you know when I want it hard, so hard I have to hold onto the headboard and clench my teeth, the sensations of being fucked are so intense.

I've learned to read you too, and I know that you are close to coming, and that you want to be deep inside me when you do. I grab a hold of the window jamb and step us both back a little. I arch my back and stick my backside out, and in one quick movement you have maneuvered your cock to the entrance to my cunt. You use one hand to hold the shaft, just below the head, to keep me from sliding back against you and filling myself up.

You pull the skin of my pussy upwards in the front so that my pussy lips close around the head of your cock. You know just how to make it last, how to keep me hanging on and I know you are squeezing your cock tight to keep yourself from losing control. You lean your face against my neck again and in a low voice ask, "What happened next?" I moan, impatient, and continue. "You took my legs and spread them wider, as wide as they would go and then you aimed your cock at the entrance to my cunt." I feel your hand leave the shaft of your cock and slowly you begin to work the length of it into my cunt. Once you are all the way in you fuck me slowly, in and out of my wet hole. "I remember ..." you moan. "I couldn't wait, I just slid right into you, deep as I could. I couldn't wait any longer."

Then you tilt your hips a little, knowing just how to stand to slide yourself even deeper inside me. You move your hand a bit so you can finger my clit, and for a moment you just enjoy the sensation of your cock deep inside me. I close my legs around your cock and trap your finger against my clit. You begin to slide in and out, your movements quicker now, and the thickness of your cock takes my breath away.

"I couldn't wait either, I remember thrusting up against you and working my clit as you fucked me." "That drove me wild." your voice is low, your breathing quick. You are pumping in and out of my cunt, both hands on my hips for leverage. I keep my legs together, my hips bent. I press my face against the cold window glass and hang onto the frame for balance. "I loved the sight of you touching your clit, and your head rolling back and forth on my bed. I loved watching my cock slide in and out of you... and your wet, pink pussy sucking at me."

When you talk like that I feel shivers all over. I thrust back against your hips, wanting it harder now. "Tell me what I said." I whisper as you grab at my hips and thrust your cock harder and harder into my cunt. You moan, remembering, also turned on by the crude language, the clipped sounds of sex-talk. "You begged me to fuck you. You kept saying it, like a mantra: Fuck me, Parker. Fuck me. Fuck me. You'd never called me by my first name before and it turned me on so much. Oh honey... the way you said it–– Fuck me, Parker. ... Fuck me." You slam your cock deep every time you say it, and I hear the desperation in your voice, the urgency.

I feel your fingers spreading my ass cheeks apart and I know you're watching your cock sliding in and out of my cunt. I love knowing you're watching me so closely, and I feel my pussy start to ache. I am getting closer and closer to coming. I use one hand to stroke a nipple as I hang onto the window.

I know what you want, a repeat of that night. So I say it, "Fuck me, Parker ... Fuck me." I am almost squealing, my voice is strained and excited. My cunt is on fire, filled with your thrusting cock, wet and aching. I pinch my nipple and keep saying it, "Fuck me ... Fuck me." until my pussy starts to clutch and my whole body seems to rise off the floor as I quiver and shake with a powerful orgasm. Your thick cock fills my pussy and once I've come I can feel it distinctly thrusting into me, deep into me, filling me up.

You are thrashing now, just pounding my cunt as fast as you can, hips and thighs slapping against mine. I groan "Fuck me ... fuck me please... " and all at once you explode inside me, your cock throbbing and jerking against my cunt walls, cum spilling out. You keep moving for a while, your cock still twitching, enjoying the warmth and softness of my cunt, the familiar smell of our bodies and juices, just gently tracing circles on my hips with your fingertips.

Outside the city has gotten on with the day, cars stream by, horns honking, while you huddle against the cold window pane, panting. You pull out of me, still slightly hard, and lead me back to the bed where we lie just breathing together watching the snow fall outside.