I knew on Thursday

I knew on Thursday.

Holding her hand.

The ballet.

Beautiful.

The last night in a new city.

I knew on Thursday.

Her hand in mine.

I knew that night.

Before we made love.

I knew it would be soon.

Over.

You can't hold a shining star forever.

Would it be one week? Two?

It didn't matter.

I knew.

I also knew I wouldn't stop. Would keep going.

I would take every day. Every moment.

To be in her presence was pure joy.

I knew she wanted this, but needed more.

I knew what I could give, and I gave it all.

Together that night, our bodies one, I knew.

We were lovers, intimate, close, meeting each other's needs.

One week later, she'd tell me she could still feel that night, could still feel me inside her.

Two weeks later, we were planning the next year.

Three weeks later, talk of homes and summer and a forever bright future.

As the fourth week began, our time was near the end.

A perfect night. One more.

A simple message.

All too much.

The end.

I knew on Thursday.

And held on to her star for four weeks more.

The joy a now bittersweet memory.

Each day, an easier walk without her.

And still. Thursday. Her hand in mine. A memory of a simple, perfect moment.

Hard Morning

He hears his office door close and then the unusual sound of the lock clicking. Still, he doesn't stop working. Focused on the documents before him, he knows they need his attention. He's been working so much, too hard lately.

He needs a break and definitely needs a release.

I say nothing, just quietly walk toward him thinking of the prize.

I kneel down beside his chair and place my hand over his crotch. I feel his nice, heavy cock and balls. He keeps working.

I unzip his pants, reach in, and pull his cock out over his boxers.

It's beautiful, semi-hard, thick, heavy.  A tiny hint of pre-cum at the opening, and I rub it around his head, making the round orb of pleasure glisten.

I stroke the full length of him, up and down, until he is so rock hard he can barely stand it.

He's finally stopped typing and he looks down at me as I look up at him. Our eyes locked and our faces in devilish smiles.

I unzip my own pants, let them drop, and pull my now throbbing cock out, stroking it gently as I place my tongue at the opening of his glorious member.

He always does this to me...the taste of him sending me into a state of hungry desire.

I kiss his shaft down to his ample balls, and then kiss and suck and lick his salty, smooth sack. My tongue traces a circle around each ball and then a line all the way up to his head.

I cup his balls as my mouth forms a suction against his hot flesh and I'm rocking up and down on him. His hand is on my head, guiding my pace.

I feel his body stiffen and I move my mouth to his head, circling carefully. The first thrust, a burst, thick, hot semen on my tongue, down my throat. My own cock so hard and so ready.

I stand and smile at him, then kiss his waiting mouth as I stroke my cock, our tongues dancing with hunger as his own cock is now semi-hard and still beautiful. His mouth on mine, seeing his cock, his salty taste on my lips, I can't hold back, and I cum in thick, hot spurts on the floor.

One more kiss, I zip up and I leave him there, my cum next to his chair, his pants down and his cock still out.

After the Exam

He told her he'd have a surprise for her after her final final exam.

The day was cold, bone-chilling. A brisk wind dampened any heat from the mid-morning sun.

She texted him she was done.

He told her she'd see his Lincoln Navigator in the parking lot and to open the back door.

She wore boots, black leggings, and a bright blue hoodie. She was bundled for the weather but still quite cold.

She opened the door of his car -- sitting in the parking lot on campus, students streaming out of buildings on the last day of exams.

He was sitting in the seat, a t-shirt and no pants on.

His cock was rock hard and huge, and he was stroking it gently.

He never stopped as he said: "How was your test?"

All she wanted was that big cock. She closed the door and her mouth was on him.

He kept his hand on the base of his cock as he fed it to her.

She could feel the wetness rising inside her and knew she wanted him.

She told him to lay down and he complied.

Seeing that glistening cock, fresh with the shine of her saliva drove her wild.

She eased her leggings down, revealing she wore no panties, even on a cold day like this.

He always instructed her not to wear panties, to be accessible. And she always complied.

His head was against the door handle as she eased that raging cock inside her tight, very wet pussy.

She forgot all about the questions she'd missed, the frustration as he opened her wide with his thick, heavy cock.

She could feel him pulsing inside her, feel him holding back.

His thumb rubbed her clit as she rode him slowly at first, then urgently.

Her thighs squeezed tight against his and pushed his cock deeper inside as she begin grinding on him.

He was deep inside, hungry, but let her set the pace.

As he rubbed her clit in rhythm to their fucking, she began to climax.

The sound of her deep, hungry moans sent him over the edge and he began shooting loads of hot cum deep inside her.

She came on top of him, collapsed, and embraced him in a ball of warmth, her leggings at her ankles, her body wrapped up tight.

He kissed her and told her it was all over...the semester, anyway. And that he had a surprise for her at home.

She realized he'd brought no pants.

He climbed into the front seat and drove her home, his cock exposed and getting hard again as she rubbed his thigh.

Still My Favorite

She kissed him and told him he was still her favorite.

He smiled.

He was on top of and still inside her. Semi-hard, body on fire.

This .. this was lovemaking. Slow, gentle, passionate.

She'd guided him inside her. Their embrace was complete. He held her and looked into her eyes and they kissed.

He moved slowly in and out... wanting to be as close to her as possible, to absorb all of her.

She never wanted it to end. Wanted him to hold her like this, together, all night.

She kissed him with a hunger she hadn't felt in quite some time.

There was no urgency ... They became lovers in that moment.

For him, this was new and wild and wonderful.

Just the night before they'd playfully kissed and teased and touched all over for more than four hours. One or the other would fall asleep, then be awakened with a kiss or a touch or a moan. They'd embrace, kiss, and take off on fire.

And tonight, for the first time, he was inside her.

His hands on her back, holding her to him. Pulling her closer as he neared climax. Looking directly into her eyes ... kissing her as he came deep insider her.

Smiling...almost crying as she told him "you're still my favorite."

After Dinner

They push back from the small, circular table in front of the window looking out on their backyard.

Their dishes hold only scant remains of a dinner well-enjoyed.

He grabs his whiskey glass and takes a final sip.

As he finishes, she is next to him. Now on her knees.

She unbuckles his thick leather belt as he watches her. Her small hands unzip his khaki pants.

She rubs her hand over the stretchy cotton that holds his growing member.

She pulls him out, admires his thickness, holds him in both hands.

Her tongue teases his bulging head and he lets out a low moan.

With her tongue, he traces the thick vein running from under the head of his cock all the way down to his body.

Then all the way back up, taking his head in her mouth, swirling her tongue, her lips providing perfect suction.

She takes all of him...all the way down to the base. Back up. Then down. Her hand cupping his balls.

He simply watches her, lets go...relishes the pure pleasure, the moment of bliss.

She looks up at him and their eyes lock.

He places his hands on her head, guides her, slowly... up and down. A bit faster, he's taking her mouth, taking what he wants.

She feels him pulse, feels his energy.

His head grows harder, harder and throbbing and he explodes with a thick coat of semen down her throat, in her mouth. His taste sour, salty, warm.

She looks up at him, his softening cock still in her mouth.

He pulls her up, kisses her.

He takes her hand and leads her to their bedroom.

Like This

She woke up like this.

Her wrists tied together and tied to the metal bed frame over her head. A red silk tie tightly knotted, holding her there.

Completely naked, her ass sore with the sting of his hand.

A single candle burned on the nightstand, and she noticed drips of wax that had hardened around her ankles.

She could still feel every single place his cum had been. Still marinating inside her fragrant pussy. A long streak of it dried on her thigh. In a line down her back to her asshole.

She remembered him fucking her between her breasts... cumming all over her face. She licked the corner of her lips and relished the salty taste of him.

He had cum so much. So much in one night.

And of course, once she had started, she hadn't really stopped.

He'd tied her there after removing her clothes and bending her over the bed. He'd spanked her with his hand and with a thick, leather belt.

Once she was tied up, his mouth found the red marks where his hand and belt had been, licked, and sucked, and bit and seared in the sting... she nearly came before his breath even hit her clit.

He'd had her on her knees, his mouth devouring her ass, fingers probing her eager pussy. He'd turned her over, opened her, his tongue with precise pressure on her angry clit, she wanted badly to place her hands on his head, to hold him... but she couldn't.

Her feet were on his back, her thighs pushing him in to her. Exquisite suction made her squirm madly, and he would not let up. She felt the first wave, felt her pussy tighten, and he kept on going. He wouldn't stop. His hair was moist with her ample juices and his sweat, but he kept going. He felt her explode in ecstasy and pulled her closer to him, took his fingers from her pussy and pressed two into her tight ass as his mouth sucked relentlessly.

She came a second time quickly, showering him in her cum.

She wanted rest, but he wanted her... he straddled her body, placed his rock hard cock at her lips, pushed it into her mouth. The taste of him lit a fire in her, and she took him in. All of him, her tongue all the way down his shaft, tasting the skin of his balls.

He'd gotten off of her face... then teased her clit with the head of his cock until she begged him to penetrate her.

He eventually complied, filling her up and fucking her hard. Then pulling out, letting her taste him.

That's when he couldn't stand it, and he fucked her breasts, came on her face and finally relaxed a bit.

They'd fuck like this again and again.

Now, she was remembering each touch, each kiss, the way his eyes looked into hers the last time he came, the time he came deep inside her cum hungry pussy.

She heard his voice. Turned and saw him at the end of the bed, completely naked, his cock harder than it had been the night before. Insatiable, she thought. How is this possible.

He crawled into the bed, eased behind her, and held her close. She felt his pulsing cock against her ass. His breath on her ear.

His hands around her waist, he told her he just wanted to be with her. To be there. Together. Aroused.

She knew what would happen. But only he knew when.

The Sidewalk

I turn the corner, past the house with the pending divorce. I look at the home with all the beautiful lighting, a smaller home but certainly impeccably decorated.

The brick posts let me know I'm leaving. The smaller, well-kept ranch style home transports me to the next neighborhood.

Now I'm in a new world. Not just the 1970s world of the new homes near unused farm land. I'm in the world where I grew up.

I'm walking. Down the street. Turning right, the sidewalk. The small building with an insurance office and a salon.

A wooden fence as the sidewalk angles up... the hill mildly steep, climbing toward the large lot with the beautiful home. The one with the barn behind it. The one with the huge tree that backs up to my yard. There's a pond in front and a long, winding gravel driveway. It's nearing sundown, and the sky is bright pink and orange and fading blue.

Just past the farm house to the right is the church. The meeting. A basketball goal.

If I stay on the sidewalk, I'll end up at the tiny market and probably buy a soft drink.  Keep going and I'll be at my elementary school. Behind the school, a park. A place to get lost. To wander. No one is ever there. That's as far as I can go. Or, as far as I should go.

All the while, I'm resisting. I don't want to go back to that world. Not now. No. I'm on the sidewalk in the neighborhood where I now live and I'm also right there, walking up the hill. Wanting to go back and take that walk one more time. Probably I'd be surprised at how short it is. How in just a few minutes, I'd go from my home to another world. Maybe pass Simon's old house and the trailer out front where his family lived.

But I don't want to do this now. Not now. I just want to walk. To have my head be clear. Free of work and life and empty and not now. Not this now.

I turn back into my subdivision. The brick posts ushering me in. I turn right, the glowing homes and perfect yards like a safety net, pulling me back from 1985. Pulling me back to now. I want to cry. I want to go back I want to have that memory of the walk and not feel this way.

This was only a few minutes, maybe not even a minute.

I keep walking. The normal path. And my phone tells me the walk has been nearly an hour and I've only gone two miles.

Did I stop? Where was I? My normal walk is 3 miles, 45 minutes. Sometimes a bit faster.

Two miles in one hour? What happened? Was I standing there. No one passed by, at least no one walking, maybe a car or two. How can I be sure?

"Did you do three miles?" she asks while I stand at the fridge taking a drink. "Yes. Three miles." She notes that it took a bit longer and I mention a house I was studying, some work in the yard there.

Where did I go? Did I lose 15 minutes?

I want to take that walk. The one at home, where I grew up. I want to take it alone. Once more. Just to see what happens.