Written by Damian (August 2000)
She had called him occasionally over the years, needing to hear his voice and reassure herself that his feelings for her had not changed. She was never disappointed. Any time they talked he would be rejuvenated, his hopes of having her rekindled, his desire for her renewed, and it would take several weeks for him to bring his life back into the normalcy in which he existed without her.
Months would pass, he would mark the time, thinking of her always and then another call would come and the crazy cycle of desire would repeat. He knew that this roller coaster was not healthy, that he should move on with his life, but he could not, he was so obsessed with her that his life could not continue if he could not keep her as a part of him, even on this limited basis, even in the receding memories that he tried to maintain.
For seven years they had been lovers, pursuing a clandestine affair unknown to their respective spouses. The relationship began with sexual explosiveness, and both originally thought that after several months they would see the folly of their ways and return to their safe lives.
But instead they grew closer, as they became friends and lovers, in the sense that the latter term connotes more than the sex act itself, which often is performed in the absence of love or any feelings whatsoever. Instead of ending, the relationship flourished, and it was clear that neither could be truly happy in the absence of the other. They could live, they could survive, but each needed the other to reach the heights to which they aspired.
But then, shortly after the seventh year passed, he had received the much feared phone call that they had considered but put in the back of their minds, the call dictated by the spouse who had learned of their affair, and who now required its termination, with no further contact. They were devastated. No matter how they tried, they could not remove the other from their thoughts, from their hopes, from their desires.
Surprisingly, after all these years she gave in. Her life had receded into the confusion of the working mother; job, children, house, husband, all requiring her constant attention, taking from her any moment for herself, providing none of the attention in return that had been so amply provided for seven years in the stolen moments they had shared together.
She knew that part of the allure of their relationship was the escape, the complete divergence from life as they both knew it, from the middle class working existence that they both lived. With each other they could be free, away from all the background noise, and share intimacies that they could not even talk about with their spouses. They would huddle around a romantic dinner in a fine restaurant, hold one another on a couch, play Nintendo naked, cook for one another and make love on the table as soon as dinner was over. All of the things that were impossible in a marriage with children, all of the things that were soon forgotten between spouses, the spice that a relationship needs to flourish, they had found only with each other.
Now, after a hiatus of seven years, a period equal to the length of their affair, she called him and asked him to meet her in a certain restaurant where they had occasionally met all those years ago, a place some one hundred and fifty miles from home, a place where they would be alone, comfortable and safe.
He agreed without hesitation. He had long ago decided that he would sacrifice everything for her, finally understanding that she was, after all, the one thing that could bring him the joy he so sought in life. He would meet her at the appointed time, making the excuses at home that he had not uttered for seven years. It was a partial deja vu� the end of which he had not yet experienced and had almost given up as impossible.
She dressed for the meeting alone, the children at school and her husband at work. Some months ago in a phone call he had described to her an outfit that he considered particularly sexy, and she had assembled the parts, which she now pieced together some three hours before their rendezvous.
The clothes had been hidden, because they would not be appropriate for the business trip that she was using as a cover for her absence. So, now showered, blow dried and combed she stood before the mirror, putting on each piece of clothing and imagining their removal at a later time that evening, at times working herself up into a sexual state of excitement that she hadn't encountered in seven years, at times nervously exasperated as to her self perceived inadequacies.
And when she was done, she surveyed herself in the mirror, medium heels, thigh high stockings held in place by their lycra/elastic band, short blue flower patterned mini skirt revealing much of her bare thigh, tight around the hips, tight white silk shirt, with numerous buttons running down the front, barely reaching her waist and exposing her taut belly if she turned or reached, highlighting her firm breasts and outlining her nipples, unrestrained and visible through the thin silk in the absence of a bra.
She accessorized with a simple gold chain and a pair of earrings that he had given her so many years ago, ones that she was sure he would recognize. As she stood before the mirror she decided that she better be late, to make sure that he was at the appointed location first, because even with her insecure nature she knew that dressed like this she would surely be hit on if unaccompanied.
The outfit suggested such easy accessibility, while, at the same time, hinted of such high school wholesomeness. She knew she looked great and she felt the same. His taste in clothes, and how well she always looked in things he bought or suggested to her, often against her better judgment, never ceased to amaze her, even now, even after all these years. She liked the classy slutiness she saw before her.
He took no such pains. The cover was a business trip and the standard fare for such a trip was the business suit and he chose the dark blue one with the faintest of pinstripes, white shirt and slightly gaudy tie. He wore it to work in the morning, leaving directly from work to the meeting point, some two hours away.
He tried to imagine what she wanted, what she had planned or had decided, but he tried to control his imagination so that he could maintain his flexibility and be able to follow her thoughts as she expressed them. He knew that this was no time for misunderstanding. He must be able to accurately hear and interpret every word she would say. Their happiness and their lives depended on it.
He arrived about a half-hour early, parked his car and walked to a nearby florist to buy her flowers. It was a little gesture that he knew she would appreciate, that he did without thinking, a gesture that he made so easily to her but could not make to his wife, although he knew that she would also appreciate the thought.
But the level of appreciation was so different. He knew that she would be brought close to tears, that she would relish in the gift and the thought that led to it's acquisition. His wife would appreciate it in her own way, not bothering to show her feelings to him, acting almost as if the gesture was expected. The subtlety of the difference was the key to his happiness.
After the flower purchase he headed to the restaurant/bar/lounge that she had chosen, which overhung a crystal clear lake across the street from a beautifully restored resort hotel where they had spent several memorable nights. The place mostly served lunch, in the summer outside on its porch over the lake, in the winter in a rather small, fully glassed room that had perhaps twenty tables and a bar.
He entered, and took one of the few remaining window tables in a corner. He sat at the table and ordered a beer that he would slowly nurse along until she arrived. He waited in anxious anticipation, since he had not seen her for over a year, and even then it was a ten-minute hallway conversation limited by their mutual obligations. So every time the door opened he looked up, only to be disappointed as others entered or left. And then she appeared.
He gasped out loud at the sight of her, marveling at how closely she had matched the look he had explained to her on the phone, amazed that she had remembered, and was absolutely astounded that anyone could look as sexy as she did to him at that very moment. He waived to her, and all tension disappeared from her face, and she bound across the room into his arms, where he held her for several minutes, tears in his eyes as he squeezed her to him, hoping this long nightmare had come to an end.
They sat close next to one another at the table, their backs to the bar and the other patrons, gazing out over the pristine lake as they tried to catch up with the events that had occurred in their respective lives over the past couple of months, and then, as their memories strained back, over the past several years during which their conversations had been limited to a couple of hours on the phone each year.
Even that small amount of contact had been in violation of her husband's orders upon his discovery of their relationship. She had been instructed to call and terminate things, once and forever. Initially they had broken that order, speaking on the phone every couple of weeks, seeing each other once a month.
But the calls and the visits became more frequent, and then they had turned sexual, and she knew that if she was to maintain her marriage and her children she had to stop. So she did stop calling, discouraged him as much as she could, and then adopted a marriage counselor's advice about the necessity for truthfulness in her marriage.
In an effort to restore trust in the marriage, she determined that she would tell her husband everything that occurred in her life each day. If that included a conversation with him, she would tell. On each occasion that she did tell, however innocent the conversation or meeting, her husband would become angry, and she would be ostracized for a while, feeling again the guilt that she felt for her behavior, for her unfaithfulness.
When she told him of her need to tell her husband of his visits or calls, and he realized that she could not be dissuaded from such a course, he knew he could not put her through that recurring pain, could not allow her to engage in such masochism. He stopped all calls, and purposely avoided any situation in which they might meet. He missed her terribly, wallowing in his loneliness, but he could not cause her any more pain than had already been inflicted.
After a while she would call every three or four months; sometimes not for a year, and that would be the extent of their contact. And so they caught up, with as many of the things that they could remember in short order, trying to jam it all in to these few hours, because they knew that this meeting could very well be their last.
Each complimented the other on their respective looks, as they had throughout their years together. Each had done everything they could to maintain their appearances, because each was vain, and each wanted to impress the other in the event that this moment actually occurred. His program had become formalized, involving a daily regimen of exercise, lasting up to an hour each day. He was in better shape than he had ever been in his losing fight to ward off the aging process. She had maintained her weight by watching her diet; chasing her children and burning off calories with her high metabolic rate and self inflicted state of extreme tension. But in each other�s eyes they could only see the person they had seen those many years before. Concerning one another they had long since passed reality and had focused their minds on the images from before.
Eventually the conversation passed to the sexual, as it always did with them. It was so unique from all their previous experiences. They openly longed for one another; they could talk about their desires, and be comfortable in doing so. Once they talked about it, neither could resist the temptation to act.
And now they touched, stroked, kissed, ever so lightly, ever so gently, ever so discreetly as they sipped their drinks, becoming intoxicated with one another rather than the small amount of alcohol which they consumed. Their legs touched, they drew closer, they reestablished links that had not been used in years, they felt old sensations flowing back into their bodies, filled with memories of times and events past, restoring their youth and empowering them.
As they sat so closely together he turned to her, placing his right hand around her waist and allowing his left hand to rest on her thighs. She did not recoil in the slightest, and he knew from their past that the invitation had been made.
He slowly moved his ever more anxious fingers up her thigh, and she parted her legs ever so slightly to give him access to her. He found her panties beneath the few inches of her skirt that barely covered her and maneuvered to their edge, and then underneath them to the very wet pussy that he found within. She had always been amazed at how she could be so excited in his presence, how she could be so quickly ready for sex with him when she had been so unable to do so with anyone else, including, or perhaps especially, her husband. But this was almost instantaneous, and as his probing fingers so quickly found her clitoris, she let out an audible moan and said to him, "I think we should get out of here." But he whispered in her ear, "No, not yet, I think we should try something," nuzzling into her ear and neck as he stoked her with his now moist and perfectly placed fingers.
She felt herself leaving the room, as she often did during sex with him, where she would lose all sense of time and place, focusing only on her own pleasure. And he moved ever so slightly away from her, gazing into her eyes as she drew closer and closer to an orgasm the likes of which were only dimly lit memories in the recesses of her mind. As he whispered his plans to her for the rest of the night, both practically and in exquisite detail sexually, she climaxed, throwing her head onto his shoulder and biting down hard so as to prevent herself from screaming and alerting the entire place as to what had just happened. She hoped that no one had noticed. But someone had.
Kelly Casey was a twenty four year old college graduate who believed herself to be sophisticated in the ways of life, prided herself on her experience and understanding of her new found adulthood. She had arrived at the bar around five thirty for an after work drink with some co-workers, and had arranged to meet her live in boy friend, Jim. He had arrived, gave her a quick peck on the forehead, bought her a beer and then moved on, talking with her co-workers and other acquaintances he saw there.
Kelly was never sure whether Jim knew these people or if he had just met them at the bar. He was always quick to meet people, after an hour he would know something about just about anyone in the room. Salesmen were like that. But, she bet, he would not know much about the older couple that she had been watching since shortly after her arrival, the pair that had seemed so enthralled with one another and whom she had just saw something that she wished, in her wildest imagination, she could do some day.
She had noticed him come in first, probably because his dress was a little too formal for this place. He was about five foot nine or ten, so she considered him to be of marginal height in her man availability charts. She had long ago decided that she would never be involved with someone who was shorter than she, and this had to include ones height with shoes, so if she wore heels, her five foot six inch height would prevent her from being involved with anyone under five foot nine.
She had made this rule iron clad, and it had prevented her from dating many boys in whom she would have otherwise been interested. So this man was a borderline case. But she probably would go out with him if she was available and asked, especially since she could see, even through the masking suit, that he was slim with broad shoulders. She guessed he was in shape, yet another requirement for this athletic girl who was a perfect size eight and whose long dark hair contrasted her blue eyes, making them all the more noticeable.
What she was the most curious about, though, was the man's age. He had neatly trimmed dark hair with grey strands interspersed. It fell over his forehead and she wondered if he was loosing any hair. His eyes were a dark brown that were mysterious and did not give away any secrets. Worry or concern seemed to dominate his face. He was obviously in his thirties, possibly early forties, and she wondered if someone of that age ever asked her out whether she would accept.
Some of her friends had extolled the virtues of dating older men, they were wiser, richer, knew what they wanted, were kinder, took more time, had more experience. But she wondered if she would miss the freshness, spontaneity and aggression that she found in the men she had dated, none of whom had been more than two years older than she. Kelly would have been surprised to know that the man who she watched and whom she had decided would be interesting to get to know, was closer to fifty than forty, the same age as her own father.
As she chatted with her friends she kept one eye on the man who had selected the corner table, noticing the flowers in his hand and immediately understanding that a woman would be joining him soon.
She fantasized about what she would look like. She was sure she would be pretty. She thought about herself entering the room and joining him. She pictured the scene in her mind, thrilled with the prospect of actually being able to see if reality would match her imagination. She thought that the woman would likely be more mature, classy, maybe Jackie Onasis like, for there was a certain sophistication that she attributed to him. Then again, maybe the woman would be some young tramp; older men sometimes went that way. She watched as he fidgeted with his beer, his clothes and the flowers, sensing his nervous anticipation.
Soon, Kelly saw her arrive and could immediately see the light come on in his face. A smile that turned a good-looking man into a hunk exploded, and she could see the excitement twinkle from his dark brown eyes.
She guessed he woman to be in her late twenties or early thirties, while in fact she was in her late thirties. She was about five foot two or three, slim, shoulder length dirty blond hair, shining blue eyes and sexily dressed about ten years younger than her age. But she carried it off.
Kelly noticed the men in the room, including Jim, immediately looking at this newcomer, who revealed an almost perfect body for someone of that height; petite, firm, almost bony but well proportioned through the breasts and hips. Kelly hoped that in ten years she could turn heads the way that this woman just had. She watched with amazement as she abandoned her sexy reserve and dashed across the room and into his arms. It was not the greeting she had imagined, she had not thought that this couple would show such feelings in public.
She watched as they held one another for what seemed like too long, and decided that they had been unavoidably separated and were now meeting to make up for lost time. She watched the couple for hours, as their very evident closeness revealed itself, looking up when they laughed, seeing little intimacies as a touch of her face, or their hands clasped together as they spoke directly into each others gaze.
She wished that Jim could for one minute be as romantic as they were for the hours that they sat before her. Kelly became strangely jealous, bemoaning her own fate, which she now perceived as a used woman who was not receiving what was rightfully hers; she had never received such attention and was fearful that she never would. She was angry with Jim, and angry with herself. She wanted to love as these two strangers so obviously did.
When she next looked over the couple had huddled close together. By moving her chair slightly she could see the man's right hand around the woman's waist, could see them whispering and occasionally kissing. Then she noticed the woman gasp, almost startled, and then catch her breath and settle into an almost unnoticeable rhythmic rocking motion toward him.
At first she could not figure out what was going on and she looked around to her friends for help, but all were involved with the TV above the bar and a rerun of "Seinfeld".
She shifted around again and could see his left arm in her lap and suddenly it came to her. His hand was definitely between her legs; they were definitely involved in something that is not ordinarily done in public. Kelly was shocked but also hypnotized by the couple, feeling a wetness between her own legs that she rarely felt, and then she saw the woman move her head quickly onto the man's shoulder, biting into it as if to restrain herself. Kelly watched as the woman's face contorted with strain, and Kelly realized that the woman was climaxing in a bar full of strangers.
When she finished, Kelly watched them hug tightly, and she felt a weakness in her own legs that she knew paralleled that of the woman. She sat mesmerized as she watched them chat, saw the woman's gorgeous smile as they playfully touched and then, suddenly, get up to leave the restaurant. She watched as he casually put his hand on her ass and guided her through the crowded bar while the male heads again swiveled to get another glance at her.
As they opened the door Kelly found herself on her feet, moving to the door. When she passed by Jim he asked her where she was going; she quickly muttered something about needing some fresh air, but thanks anyway, she wanted to be alone. As she got out the door she could see them walking slowly arm in arm, about 200 feet away, and she turned to follow them. Within a few steps she saw them stop to enter a late model Japanese luxury car, which all looked alike to Kelly, and she moved closer to see them again. As she approached she was startled again.
The man had settled in the driver�s seat, and the woman had sat facing him, straddling him while she worked at extracting his cock from his pants. The man hungrily kissed her mouth, while he unbuttoned the front of her bodice, exposing and then taking her breasts, first in his hands, and then in his mouth. Kelly watched while the woman slid herself onto his now exposed cock, which Kelly could see go into her as she slowly walked past the parked car.
She walked a few feet away, and then, standing off the right rear quarter panel of the car about twenty feet away, watched as these two made love with such reckless abandon. The woman drove herself down on him again and again, while the man drove back and pulled her ass close to him with one hand while massaging her nipples with the other. After what seemed like an eternity to Kelly, she could hear the woman's muffled cries, and then the man's moans, followed by another, higher pitched set of screams from the woman. Then they both collapsed into one another's arms.
They looked at one another, almost in utter miscomprehension of what they had done, and then burst out into laughter that Kelly could hear from her location. The woman pulled herself away and into the passenger seat, the man made some quick adjustments, the car started and quickly drove away. Kelly felt lightheaded. She so wanted to accompany them to wherever they were going.
As her climax had finished in the bar she had tried to look like nothing had happened, but knew the frivolity of the ruse. She was sure that half the bar had seen them, she almost expected to hear a cheer as she exploded from within. But instead there was just the noise of any bar, and she looked into the eyes of this giving man and knew that the only thing that she wanted to do was to take him inside her, long and deep, and return her soul to him.
She whispered to him, because she was not as yet strong enough to speak aloud, "Let's get out of here, there's something I have to do that I can't possibly do here." He dryly responded,
"Whatever could that be?" and she gave him a smile and a look that he knew so well.
"You're going to have to help me up, my legs are Jell-O and I'm not to sure I'll be very steady."
So they got up and slowly made their way out of the bar, and he watched as the patrons, both men and women, turned to watch this perfect woman leave the bar. He knew the men wished they were leaving with her, and that the women were glad to see the competition disappear. As they walked to the car she told him that she needed him immediately, that she couldn't wait the thirty minutes it would take to reach their destination. He said that she would have to wait and she responded with a "We'll see."
When they got to the car he opened her door, helped her in and was treated to a wonderful view of her legs as they swung into the front seat. He could never explain the effect her legs had on him. He thought she had the greatest legs he had ever seen, although she was always quick to remind him that they were too short.
He knew otherwise. He closed the door behind her and jogged to the other side of the car. As soon as he got in the car she was on him, barely giving him enough time to close the car door. Her mouth was immediately on his, as she anxiously explored his tongue with hers, while at the same time tearing at his pants to expose his cock.
She had removed her own panties as soon as he closed the car door on her side, and now she took his cock in her hands and guided him into her, taking as much of him as she could handle, allowing each stroke to penetrate more and more of her, as she rubbed his shaft against her clitoris.
For his part, he immediately realized the futility and stupidity of resistance; he tore at her shirt, unbuttoning button after button until her breasts were available to him and he could suck them, rub them against his face and finger her nipples in any one of a hundred different ways. He grabbed her perfect ass with his left hand pulling her down onto him, while his right hand worked her breasts.
He could feel his ejaculation in his shaft, but desperately tried to hold on until she climaxed. He knew she was close, as he heard the heavenly moans that he had last heard so many years ago as her orgasm rose within her. Each thrust brought from her a higher note, song like as she approached her orgasm. And then he came, in groans and moans that he hardly thought possible from him as he felt the seamen rush from his body, with an almost unbelievable pressure. As the second or third spasm racked his body, he felt her come, her orgasm creating quivers that he could feel in her thighs, her screams reaching new and higher notes. They collapsed on one another, and after catching their breath and looking at each other, burst out into laughter triggered by their mutual joy.
He said that they better get out of there, because it was only a matter of time until some passerby or shop owner accused them of public indecency. She agreed, gracefully rising off of him and allowing him to rezip his pants while she buttoned her shirt while casting a wicked smile in his direction.
He started the car and they drove off to a night of passion that would render the last hour nothing more than foreplay. The consequences of their actions would be left for another day; they would once again deal with those consequences when confronted with their infidelity, hopefully with a more satisfactory result than last time. But whatever would happen, they were, for now, happy again. All else was unimportant.
As they left, Kelly made a silent promise to herself. She could not remain in any relationship that did not involve sexual desire on a level that she had just witnessed. She was sure that she did not have it now. She knew that she had never known or imagined such passion and needed to experience such reckless abandon for herself. She had seen what she now needed to feel and she now understood how much she craved such unrestrained intimacy. She knew that she would not be able to kindle such passion with Jim, who, for all of his good traits, would never create the deep desire that she had just witnessed.
She never thought of what it was in the couple�s background that fueled their passion. She knew that there was nothing that she would not do to bring such excitement to her life, even for a while so that she would have the memory for a lifetime. But where to start and how?
The consequences of her new commitment never occurred to her. Kelly walked slowly back to the bar, confused by her thoughts and newly kindled desires, trying to imagine herself in a relationship such as she had just witnessed. She wondered if there was more of such passion around to be had, she wondered if such passion was within her, and she wondered how she would find it. She could not wait to experience what she had seen. But she now knew that it was not just a fairy tale, it was possible, and if she were lucky, it would be hers.
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