Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

A Reunion After Decades Apart

“What on earth was she doing here?” she asked herself. She absently watched the deer nibbling silently and incessantly at the grass, the whole herd moving imperceptibly closer to her the longer she sat still. To an onlooker, a peaceful scene; unremarkable even. But that betrayed a churning turmoil that almost paralysed her.

She was more anxious than at any time in what seemed like living memory. The most critical manifestation of this angst was a growing desperation for a pee, perhaps more. She recognised the familiar signs but it wasn’t just the nervous waiting this time – there was a disbelief that she was here at all… It had all started so innocently: a renewed contact between two people whose lives had moved way beyond what they’d previously shared – what could be the harm? Polite exchanges at first, but he had revealed a remaining lust for her that had taken her aback; that hadn’t been in the script! She’d started by trying to shrug it off, reminding him of how her life had evolved and filled out. She’d spelled out how much she had to lose and how little appetite she had for endangering it. She’d pointed out that she wasn’t in her twenties any more, with all that that means to a woman’s body. That had worked from time to time and their contact had oscillated between silences, awkward attempts to chat about life’s humdrums and his occasional protestations of his continuing sexual interest in her.

The silences had seemed quite grown up at first – two adults taking a sensible pill – but she missed his interest in her and she was always pleased when their contact – usually emails these days – resumed. She wished it were otherwise but she missed having him there in the background. And it was a very fractured thing, their contact. She had so much on her plate that just time itself was at a premium, and when emailing him there was always the cocktail of conflicts: a desire to keep the distant relationship alive; the guilt of feeling that she was being disloyal; the worry of losing what she had worked for and… that certain something: a tingle perhaps? No; not that. Almost a physical response to both the sweet and sexually forthright ways he’d express himself to her; she secretly loved knowing how she made him feel and she admitted to herself that she almost revelled in the effect she had on him. He was clearly still aroused by her – that much was crystal clear – and that knowledge did something for her as well, although she’d never let him in on that particular secret!

And gradually it had sort of taken on a life of its own, this irregular distant meeting of minds and suppressed desire; well; sexual curiosity really. To the point that here she sat, waiting for him, her head full of questions and doubts and her stomach churning. Her beloved son had been so excited to be staying the weekend at his chum’s a couple of villages away and she’d seen a possibility born. She wouldn’t really be missed tonight – hubby was preparing to watch Chelsea get beaten by some unpronounceable Turkish club in the quarter final of the something-or-other Cup and hardly seemed to notice her mention the completely fictitious friend from Bristol who’d now moved to Derby with her new husband and, you wouldn’t believe it, had recently started her own Jamie Oliver parties. Job done. With an accompanying menu of doubts and guilts. What was she thinking of?

She was nowhere near Derby; sat in the grounds of a country hotel barely fifty miles from home waiting to discover whether you could put flesh back onto a ghost or whether they’re best laid to rest forever.

He was relieved that he had the urgency over the last few miles of his journey to distract him from the bigger picture. That had been an agonising 30 minutes sat stationary near Catterick whilst the emergency services had cleared a jack-knifed truck from the A1(M). If the bloody Poles can’t drive trucks properly, make them stay at home to bugger up people’s plans there! Just how many pallets of frozen chickens does it take to bring a dual carriageway to a standstill? And now he was late. Not the end of the world but he hated the thought of her having to wait for him – it was meant to be the other way around. He’d ‘phoned her, obviously, but he was still driving too fast now – concentrating hard and pushing everything else to the back of his mind. And there was plenty to push.

He didn’t feel guilty particularly but he was aware that he was swimming in the deep end this time; this wasn’t just a brief messing about for her – this was high stakes stuff. And it wouldn’t be leading anywhere anyway – that much he already acknowledged. This was a mutual itch that they’d sort of both concluded together needed scratching. As much as anything he was nervous. Would the evening even get off to any kind of start at all; would even sensible conversation be choked off by a suffocation of politeness, guilt, awkwardness and an unwillingness on both parts to commit to even the most modest of sex hikayeleri first steps?

And, he admitted to himself, would he be any good when…? The usual twin fears stalked him: would he even rise sufficiently to the occasion amidst all the emotional background clutter and, if he did, would he be so excited that it would all be over before it had properly got under way? Certainly the evidence for the first fear was there – he comforted himself that his current absence of any erection at all could be put down to his concentration and irritation. As for the second – well, he wasn’t in his teens any more and the infrequent recent experience suggested that he had little to fear on that score. But still he worried.

And with every passing minute he feared that she would think twice and the next he’d hear would be a heartfelt apology on the mobile as she slid back behind her steering wheel to head home. For Chrissake – how slowly can this wanker in front drive?? Get a fucking move on!!

She smiled at the realisation – she was getting cold feet! It may be sunny but late afternoon in February in County Durham is hardly tropical. She’d need to move soon just to restore feeling to her extremities. The deer were just the other side of the wall now; so close she could hear them feeding on the soft grass. The crows, or were they jackdaws – she was never much good at all that, were still making a racket in the trees behind her but the afternoon had turned; they’d soon be settling down for another chilly night. The closest few deer started and stepped back a few paces smartly as she involuntarily shivered. The spell broken, she stood up and the whole herd moved away a few yards. Surely they saw enough people not to be so nervous?

She’d use the loo in reception and then what? Her fingers closed over her car keys – she could be home in an hour and a half… Perhaps it was best. What had she fooled herself would happen? Pathetic, acting like a bloody teenager. She turned on her heel towards reception, the gravel crunching expensively beneath her boots. And the crows, or whatever they were, all took to the air together with a couple of clattering wood pigeons – surely she hadn’t had that effect? And then she realised – there was a car swinging a little too quickly into the drive. She recognised him immediately. She wasn’t driving anywhere that night – for better or worse.

He couldn’t believe it – there she was! Oh Christ… Perhaps it would have been simpler all round if she’d given up… Oh shut up you twat – she’s there. Waiting for you. And she’s just what you’d hoped. It’s her – she’s changed but she’s just the same. He was in a heightened state now – extreme anticipation had temporarily pushed nerves aside; he was in a film and the script was going to play out regardless. It’s just that he had no idea what the script said… In the seconds before stopping next to her he’d undertaken a rapid appraisal. Christ; she filled a pair of jeans nicely. Her winter jacket wasn’t exactly revealing but it couldn’t completely hide the promise of what appeared to be a very full bosom. Wonderful! Her smile – perhaps a little nervous? – was just as he remembered and her hair still had that lovely lustrous quality and body. It was grey now but that hardly mattered – it crowned what was an embodiment of all his desires.

Christ; he was alive now. In the space of a few seconds his hands had started to shake; thank God he had a steering wheel to hang on to. He wanted her right there and then but was absolutely petrified with uncertainty. At least his dick seemed to have reconnected itself at last!

They both said “Hiya” together and laughed. In an effort to retain some practicality he suggested that he go and park the car – did she want to hop in? No thanks; she wanted a last few seconds on her own – the short walk would do her good. She watched as the brake lights went out and the engine was silenced. He reached behind himself for a jacket and stepped out of the car. She was in no rush – she wanted a first impression of what had dragged her from hearth and home on this increasingly chilly night. That first impression was largely favourable, she concluded. He wasn’t his former reasonably skinny self and from this distance he looked bald. That wasn’t true; she knew – he just kept his now grey hair very short. No moustache now, either. Funny how that memory of him had stuck all these years. He looked as if he’d kept himself fit but she realised with a start that this was a guy in his sixties. Hell; he was an older man back then and he still is! Ha! I’ll have to pull his leg about that…

They walked back to reception together; polite small talk to the accompaniment of that modern backing track – the rumbling of suitcase wheels. Checking in made her smile – he hadn’t changed: he corrected the pretty receptionist (Lithuanian; Russian?) with a winning smile. No; they didn’t have the same surname. They weren’t Mr and Mrs anything… The receptionist looked porno hikayeleri up from under her eyelids and caught his gaze. She understood.

She hardly bothered to look at the room when he opened the door; she was busting after all! She made her apologies and made a bee-line for the en suite. Shut the door fully but didn’t lock it. She sat there, the marble floor and walls seeming to calm her down. She’d been freezing only a short while ago but now she was glad of the chance to sit in the peace and cool of the bathroom. She noticed her hands slightly shaking as washed them. She wasn’t fully in control. Did she think she would be? Did she want to be?

She had another couple of minutes to herself as he needed a pee. She noticed that he didn’t shut the door completely, leaving it an inch or two ajar. A hint of a greater measure of familiarity or self-confidence, she supposed. She sat on the corner of the bed for a moment and reached out, running her hand over the duvet. Why? She grinned to herself…

By the time he’d come back she was hanging up her dress for the night. She’d agonised over the choice – nothing too formal or over the top but special enough to do justice to the occasion. It was no coincidence that she’d almost rejected it for being perhaps a bit too low-cut but she’d tried it on anyway and in the naughty privacy of the changing room had leaned forward a bit towards the mirror. She’d smiled to herself almost triumphantly; she was still proud of her breasts and she knew they’d work well for her in that dress – he wouldn’t fail to notice those in a hurry! She’d leaned even further forward and she had to admit that her cleavage looked damn good. Almost sheepishly she’d cupped her hanging breasts in both hands and felt their weight, her nipples hardening between her fingers. Jesus Christ; she could feel herself moistening – she needed to get a grip! She’d taken off the dress with some urgency, feeling quite shocked by her speedy arousal. Pathetic – she’d even looked both ways as she pulled back the dressing room curtain, as if to see whether anyone had watched her!

Shoes had been easy – he was a sucker for plain high-heeled court shoes. She’d tried on a couple of pairs before finding what she was looking for; her legs looked great in them but she quickly took them off – she didn’t want a more public repeat of her dressing room incident! Lingerie took the longest, funnily enough. The colour, really. Black always works, but perhaps too predictable. White wouldn’t have worked with her stockings. Red? Tempting but obvious? She’d finally gone for a deep burgundy, almost plum. The bra would make her breasts unmissable and she’d gone for a matching pair of little panties, not a thong, with a pretty little garter belt.

On her way home from the shops she’d prayed that the guys wouldn’t be home yet and she was in luck. Breathlessly she’d run upstairs, thrown off her clothes and almost ritually tried on her new purchases. She’d paused a little to survey her offering to him before putting on the dress. Christ; she could almost fancy herself! The colour of the lingerie looked great against her skin; her bust was so firm and grabbed attention. Her bum didn’t look at all bad and she was pleased with the contrast of the dark of her panties and stockings with the pale of her thighs. And when her dress was on – woe betide any guy who tried to ignore her!

She’d not wasted any time in peeling the dress off, though – she had no idea how long she had to herself. She’d hung it deep in her wardrobe, far from prying eyes and walked back across the bedroom, catching sight of another woman in the full-length mirror! No; that was no other woman – that was her in all her renewed glory. She was impressed! She sat on the bed, kicked off her shoes and carefully rolled down her stockings. She reached behind and undid her bra, feeling her breasts’ weight as she slid it off her shoulders. She was flushed, she noticed, and her nipples had darkened and stiffened. Her fingers trembled like a young girl’s as she ran their tips around her nipples – she’d always loved having her breasts played with.

Oh Christ – it was happening again. She pretended to herself that she was just reaching down to take off her panties but her fingers pushed inside the soft material to feel her moistness. She fell backwards on the bed and parted her legs a little. She ought to take the panties off, but they were part of the magic. She’d have to make this quick, but she was used to that. One hand was just stroking her lips – hell, she was soaking now – whilst the other expertly played her clitoris into the epicentre of her consciousness. She climaxed in just a couple of minutes; she was good! She lay there, panting; her heart pounding; her fingers sticky and juicy. Her mind was made up – she was going through with it. If she could make herself feel like that, she’d slaughter him! Far too soon her reverie had been disturbed by a car pulling up outside – time to turn miraculously seks hikayeleri from tramp into caring mother and dutiful wife…

“Blimey – sorry!” She’d jumped a mile as he touched her, jerking her back from her daydream. He’d walked up behind her, gently placed his hands on her hips and just rested the side of his face against her hair. She’d been gazing out of the window and in the western sky Venus was already the usual evening highlight – an optimistic omen he hoped! He could smell her hair and he luxuriated in its softness – the years just rolled away. He could have stood like that for hours – just being here like this was more than he’d wildly expected only months beforehand.

But she turned in his arms to face him, looked up and smiled. He was lost. He wanted this moment to last forever. How could he ever let her go again? She pulled him closer and he could feel the press of her breasts. She angled her head and parted those soft lips a fraction of an inch. For the first time in nearly twenty years his lips were on hers and it felt like heaven. Their first kiss was hesitant, shy even. They parted and looked at each other as if to take in what had just happened. But they were holding each other tight and weren’t letting go.

She wondered if this was all going to plan, before realising that she didn’t have one and guessing that he didn’t either. It felt so natural, stood there by the window with just the stars and bare trees as onlookers. She offered herself again and he kissed her far more urgently this time, their tongues meeting for the first time. You could have lit up a small town with the electricity that produced! And suddenly they couldn’t get enough of each other, their lips being squashed by the passion of years apart. There was no stopping this now, even if she’d wanted to. And she didn’t…

She had been pushed back against the writing desk under the window, the edge just at bum height. She was leaning back and he was pressing into her. Mmm – she was doing something right; she could feel his hardness now against her tummy. Perhaps she ought to be doing something…

He realised that he ought to do something else. It couldn’t be comfortable to be jammed up against the desk like that and his dick was already reminding him that just kissing her all night was not really going to tick all the boxes. He feared his next decision – if he acts and it’s the wrong thing he’ll have shattered the moment. If he doesn’t she’ll wonder whether he’s turned gay since they were last together!

He glanced at the clock by the bed – just over two hours till dinner. Even allowing for the age she’d probably take to get ready they were not in a rush. They had time for… well, whatever turned up. And so he acted. He slipped his hands inside her top and started to slip it upwards off her. Her next action would answer all the questions…

She raised her arms to let him start undressing her. There was no point in acting coy; they both knew why they were there. God; he was so gentle – were his hands shaking? He took care that her top would not catch her earrings and he also tried to avoid messing up her hair. She was stood there now, he temporarily distracted as he turned to carefully lay the top on the chair. For God’s sake – leave the damn thing; turn around and look at ME!!

He turned back to her; was he deliberately taking his time to increase the anticipation? Christ; she had a pair of tits! He could see that she wasn’t a twenty-something any more but those breasts were wonderful. There was no point in being Mr Cool anymore – he just wanted to see them out. But he savoured the moment; he had to feel her before he took off her bra – she just looked so firm and proud stood there.

He cupped her breasts and made no attempt to take them out of her bra. He leaned forward and kissed her shoulders, neck and chest. He moved to her bosom and kissed the exposed skin and seemed to want to push his face into her cleavage. “Just wait till I’ve got my fuck-me undies on!” she thought, “you won’t be able to take your eyes off me…”

He reached behind her at last and undid her bra with an accomplished ease. But he wanted to savour this. She duly allowed the straps down over her arms and then he slowly lowered her bra, watching her breasts fall under their own weight. They did droop a little more than they had before, but that was to be expected. But she’d been right – they were still magnificent. He loved the impression of weight in more mature boobs and hers were perfect – full and womanly but they still stood up fantastically. And her nipples were superbly perky, darker and bigger than he remembered. He was enraptured…

And so he was transfixed – his lovely ex-wife standing topless in the weak moonlight. His face must have been a picture!

She was enjoying this more than she’d imagined. She was getting an unexpected buzz from standing there topless, breasts hanging and exposed for his scrutiny. She knew she looked good and she knew that he thought she did as well – he just stood there almost reverentially. She wondered how big he was now; she knew that she was ready for him. She was almost tempted to slip her hand down to feel herself but discretion made her hold back.

Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32