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Dear Memory Ch. 1

By: Starlight13



Dear Memory,

Why should I arrange to meet you? You are a distant, shameful figure from my past, my reckless youth. Why should I agree to meet with you? Deceive my husband, my family? My marriage may not be a hotbed of passion, but by our culture’s standards, he has been a good husband. I am a respectable married woman. And yet... thinking of you awakens that wicked, wilful girl of my youth and that wild and passionate summer of love. There was pleasure in my wickedness, a passion that my life has lacked ever since you first tempted me from the path of innocence and purity. Attending that party was a treat from grateful parents. My mock exam results had been good, and the summer holidays involved many relaxing of strict rules, and the freedom to mix with girls, western girls of my own age. I had pleaded to be allowed to attend Carol Waterman’s party. The assurance of her parent’s oversight had let them give me the freedom to remain until midnight. That night I met you… something that my life had not prepared me for. Attentive, witty and with a sharp intelligence that allowed me to open my inner self to you, in a way that I have never found since. You had that funny, lopsided smile, which wormed its way into my heart. 

I trusted you. I think with was the respect that you paid me, no pushing, no cajoling. I knew that there were at least two other girls at that party who seemed annoyed that you appeared to prefer my company. You talked of things that made my blood heat, my head spin. Was the fruit punch spiked? I knew about sex, the theory, and read romantic fiction that would have horrified my mother. I was curious, I was nervous of you… and it was a wonderful feeling. Adrenalin is a potent drug. You kissed me, open mouthed and with a passion that had my heart beating wildly in my heaving chest. I turned you on, and was delighted and amazed at the power I discovered I possessed… You touched me, caressing the swell of my breasts and I murmured a ‘no’. And you stopped. You apologised and you made me feel very safe, very much in control. I took your hand, your tanned masculine hand and placed it over my breast. That first kiss, first touch ignited fires that I never knew lay dormant within me. I knew how terrible, in the eyes of my family, my actions were… and enjoyed each and every second of my tiny rebellion. If it hadn’t been to terrible, so intoxicating, it may not have gone any further.

We ended up out on the veranda, the security light leaving a corner of deep shadow. I wore a long skirt, as fitting for a modest Indian girl, but it also possessed a thigh high side slit. You hand found it unerringly, and I stood shivering with your warm, firm had roaming over my bare skin. You advanced, and paused, advanced a little more, as if waiting on my reaction. We both knew were you were going… and like you, I had no idea if you would reach your goal. The first brush of you knuckles against the front of my panties had me swooning in your arms. My knees threatened to give way. You remained considerate, when you could easily have forged ahead taking full advantage of my overwhelmed senses. Instead, you maintained the gentle contact and asked if I was ok. My response, if memory serves, was ‘that I had never known that I could feel so good’. You quickly proved how much better it was possible to feel.

Your stroking finger soon had my honey flowing freely, the material of my knickers seemed to magnify the sensations, as you smoothed it into the groove of my sex. Then you blew what remained of my resolve, a finger slipping past the edge of my gusset, and into the hot, sticky depths of my vagina. The sensations were so intense - I stopped you then, not because I disliked what you were doing, but more from fright at my own reaction. I was sure I was going to collapse, my legs no longer able to support me, a scream in my throat choked back with difficulty. You held me tightly, letting me recover my composure. So began my summer of love.

You fingered me again that night, in the half hour before my parents were due to pick me up. We walked down the drive to the gate, hand in hand, like lovers in one of my forbidden books. You stood behind me, arms around my waste, nuzzling the nape of my neck, nibbling at my ears. To my shame... to my pride, I took your hand and pressed it between my thighs. I wanted more of what you had given me my first taste of. You needed no second invitation, your hand quickly sliding down the waistband of my skirt, and down the front of my pants. You held my sex, my pubic mound in the palm of your hand with a delicately and reverence that I found overwhelming. I closed my eyes and lay back against the support of your body and let it happen, your free hand caressing my breast, the fingers of the other… parting the lips of my pussy, rubbing knowingly at the swollen nub of my clitoris, curling to probe the sticky opening beneath. I stood it for as long as I could, before the sensations threatened to overwhelm me again. Each time your fingers penetrated me, my buttocks pressed backwards against you... and the hardness in your groin. Your manhood, your penis. I savoured the words, to my shame. Erect, hard - in preparation to do what your fingers were doing to me. Frightening. Wicked. Exiting. That knowledge turned my knees to jelly.

At the approach of headlights you stepped off the drive and into the bushes. My parents found me standing demure and alone, not even the taint of alcohol on me. 

I talked my parents in letting me start going to the boat club, it was the daily social centre, around the swimming pool. Carol Waterman was my key, and her parents would pick me up and bring me home. It became an everyday occurrence, to sunbathe and swim the day away. I loved you in your swimming trunks, broad shouldered, tanned and we flirted all that first day in the water. I wanted to kiss you... have you kiss me. Any lingering embarrassment from the previous night was dispelled by your obvious delight in me. I hungered for the bikini swimsuits the western girls sported, and hated the one-piece black Speedo my parents insisted on. I loved you lack of concern, and the sincerity when you told me that you where with me, and not them. I almost thought that the day was would pass uneventfully, and then you asked me if I wanted to explore. I almost wet myself there and then in my eagerness.

Behind the changing block was an enclosed leafy glade, well screened from all eyes. You kissed me, and with not a drop of fruit punch in sight. I loved your strong arms around me, your lips on mine. In a fit of bravery, and blunt honesty, I confess that I had “diddled” myself to sleep last night... several times. You held me tightly, our bodies pressed together, your arousal pressed hard against my stomach. Remembering the pleasure you had given my last night, I turned around inside the circle of your arms, and press my bottom against you, placing your hand once more between my thighs. The material was stretchable enough to allow you to slide your hand inside the high cut leg and once again I quivered on your fingertips. You pressed the boundaries further this time, working my breast free from their confinement. My nipples had never been so hard, or so sensitive. In the warm afternoon sunshine, yards from a crowd, I was having my bare breast fondled while your fingers worked their magic with my pussy. It was so bad…. It was so wonderful. I groped behind my body, and fumbled at your trunks. I wasn’t thinking, I was reacting to my body’s demands. I had a stab of fear, of nervous anticipation, as I found the drawstring of your trunks. Your penis, your cock. A hard warm bar of flesh. Despite the pleasurable distraction of your fingers, the urge to take full advantage of my compulsion made me turn towards you, and examine my catch. I was focused on you, tugging you free from the swimming trunks. This was no curly little tail that the only images I seen depicted.. this was a throbbing bar of veined manhood, blood warm and alive in my hand. I was mesmerised, ignoring your frozen immobility, and knelt unconsciously to take in the details. The pale, blue veined column rising from the dark bush of reddish brown pubic hair, the dark plum like head, the glans. I was fascinated by the loose movement of the outer skin. It was not until some days later, when you explained about foreskins, that I would know that I held a circumcised model. Call me biased, but I have always had a preference for them. 

I never told you then, but when I leaned closer, eye to eye so to speak, my open mouth was nothing more than slack jawed awe. When you leaned forward and pressed the blunt head of your cock to my lips, it certainly surprised me. But with an instinct that I did not know I possessed, I knew what you wanted… and swayed forward to accept you. Your cock filled my mouth, my lips stretched wide to accept its girth. I dimly heard your groan and could feel the trembling in your body. I had never suspected that such a sexual act existed... none of my romantic reading had covered this kind of detail. I felt cheated! I did little, I heard you wince and felt your body flinch when my teeth snagged the flared base of your glans, and struggled to keep my lips shielding you. I snuffled through my nose, and vainly tried to swallow the saliva the slightly salty taste of you generated. You slid back and forth - restrained, shallow thrusts – once moving my hand to a firmer grip around the flared base of your shaft, so that I was masterbating, wanking you in time with your fast, short thrusting. 

You fucked my willing mouth in a steadily increasing tempo, and just as I became aware of more aromatic salty tang, you pulled wetly back, leaving me gasping like a landed fish. I could feel the shudder in your body, felt the jerk and pulse in your shaft and saw the little eye flare as the first jet of semen spat out of you, hitting my chin and cheek, before you crouched and pulled me close. I rose to meet you, and your slippery, spurting cock was pressed to my breasts, and I felt the subsequent lesser spurts against my throat and between my breasts. As your tremors subsided, and your climax passed, I found myself wanting to cry. Cry? In joy, in awe… in burst of passion, or the power of love? Let us settle for an excess of emotion. 

Then, as considerate as ever, you knelt and kissed me, my slimy breast pressed to your broad chest. You fingered me some more, this time down the inside the low cut back of my swimsuit, down between the cheeks of my bottom and in from behind. I would come to know love that rear entry method in the days to come.

My diary records that as the first of twenty-three blowjobs I gave you that summer. I held you to me the second time, and swallowed your cum. I drank your seed eighteen times, the remaining times I held your jerking cock between my breasts drinking you through my skin. Young girls and the diaries.

I sucked your cock in your bedroom, in my parent’s bathroom, in the bushes at the boat club and in our respective garden. I drank you cum in the darkened back row of the cinema, and once on the back seat of a taxi. I even risked death by drowning to take you in my mouth underwater in the swimming pool one memorable afternoon. I became rather good at sucking cock, blowjobs, giving head. I struggled to perfect my technique and leaned to breath with a mouthful of cock, and even practiced the skill of deep-throating you. I came to love the taste of you, and even today, I expect to taste the tang of swimming pool chlorine..

The pleasure giving was not one sided. Another party, and we quickly sneaked off into the garden and found a secluded spot amongst some guava trees. The grass was rough and scratchy, and the fear of insects made me unwilling to lie down. I knelt on your jacket and with now practised hand unzipped and unbelted his jeans, pulling them and your underpants down to your knees. You were a little reluctant to be so exposed, but I could not get enough of your cock. Your testicals, your balls fascinated me anew... and I loved to hold your firm muscular behind tight against me when you came in my mouth. I was getting good at sucking cock, and was able to press you right to the back of my throat without gagging, for a short period at least. I learned to lick the underside of your cock, making you writhe and moan in pleasure. And I had learned to make you cum, my masturbating your shaft and bobbing mouth in an irresistible combination – half a dozen strokes in the right combination and you filled my mouth with semen. As always, you knelt and kissed my open mouth, and I never knew until I had experience more of life how distasteful most men found kissing a mouth so recently ejaculated into. This night you bade me stand, and once I did you skinned my damp knickers down to my ankles, and a little uncertainly I stepped out of them. Then you shoved your face into my lap and licked my pouting slit. Oh god. You drove me wild, with tongue and fingers and hot panting breath. I locked my fingers in your fashionably long hair and ground myself against your face, your nose, your mouth. You sucked my clit, and tongued my vagina in a veritable waterfall of honey. I came, noisy, grunting like an animal, struggling not to collapse in a quivering loose-legged heap. You ate me until I begged you to stop, tugging at your hair. You could have fucked me then… I almost begged you to. I was fully aware, in spite of my recent blowjob, that you cock was hard... and only inches from my pussy... my cunt. Along with other parts of my anatomy, you certainly expanded my vocabulary. A dirty word, unloved by women around the world... but descriptive, earthy and crude. I was a dirty, wicked girl, with hot wet cunt, that wanted to be stuffed full of cock. This time your kiss was full of the flavour of me. The tangy, musky flavour of my flowing honey, and it mixed nicely with the lingering flavour of you semen. A portent of things to come.

I spent the next two days wrestling with my conscience. Everything up until know could be dismissed as minor, not true, but it could come under the heading of messing around or heavy petting. What I now desired, craved, was beyond those bounds by a long, long way. Shame, dishonour... my parent’s reaction could not be imagined, so terrible would be the wrath that would descend upon me. Which only made my desire worse… I wanted to kick over the traces, my wild streak had been given a freedom I had never dreamed existed. I was a wicked, wanton whore and I revelled in my secret life. I knew that what we were doing could come to a dramatic, painful conclusion at any moment. Our time together, our summer of love was finite. And I knew that you had to be my first. 

The next night my parents planned an evening out, I let you know that we would be free until at least ten that night. You were outside my door at eight. 

I said nothing to you about my decision. But you knew I think. You said nothing as I led you by the hand into my bedroom. I felt strangely shy as you looked around my girly room and the lacy décor. I had stripped the bed down to a single sheet, and your eyes widened with understanding, confirmation? I undressed you... stilling your attempts to aid me. Then you stood naked before me, your cock a ridged vertical bar of male arousal. I told you to stand immobile as I slipped my blouse off, removed my bra and then suddenly rather self consciously, my knickers. A dramatic pause and I let my skirt fall around my ankles. I remember how wide your eyes were, soaking up my totally naked body for the first time. You lay on the bed, as I requested, before I knelt between you thighs. I gave you a long, slow drawn out blowjob. Every time you moved to participate, I hushed you. ‘Later’. Your hardness throbbed and jerked, filled me, and I swallowed, savouring every drop. Rather reluctantly, I let you slide free of my mouth. The moment had moved a stage closer. I smiled up at your flushed features, and whispered, ‘Your turn’.

On my back, my thighs unceremoniously spread wide, knees raised in the classic, eternal position for the receiving of cock, for the first time ever. I had never been so exposed, so vulnerable in my life. And I trusted you… as few have been trusted since. I knew, deep inside myself, that you found me desirable, your transparent fascination with my body, my cunt, warmed my heart and soul. You licked my slit, with you magical tongue, parting the swollen labial lips with your fingers. You licked and probed every fold and crevice, from my throbbing clit to my honey filled vaginal opening. My hips bucked up and I came explosively, a few moments later I grunted and moaned in the throes of another. It was becoming unbearable - I tugged hard at your hair, and made you yelp, pulling you up. You rose to your knees, panting, eyes glazed. Your hard, still wet, manhood bobbed in front of you sweaty body. I was tempted to say ‘Make love to me’… but I was feeling wicked and dirty, the words came out as ‘Fuck me. Fill me. Make me cum’.

Thank you for your hesitation, you enquiring look of ‘Are you sure?’. Oh Dear Memory, I have rarely been more sure of anything in my life - and mouthed a silent plea of ‘Yes’. One swift motion and the blunt wedge of your cock was pressing against my honey dripping opening. One long, firm push and I was full to the brim with throbbing manhood. No pain, none of the discomfort I had feared. Instead there was fulfilment, intense satisfaction and a warmth deep inside me that I have never experienced since…

I writhed under you, enjoying the sweaty weight of your body, your hardness soaking in my hot clinging depths You lay, trembling slightly, the slow steady throb of your cock, as you kissed my face, my mouth, my aching breasts. We lay for several lifetimes, and you seemed to be savouring the sensation as much as I. Drawing out that special moment, that first ever, full length penetration of my womanhood. If for nothing else, I owe you that memory, that special, once in a lifetime moment. I could feel every twitch and pulse of you, the mouth of my cunt so highly sensitive that I could detect the minuet motions caused by our respective breathing.

Then you fucked my brains out. Starting slowly, easing the hard length of throbbing cock back and forth in my over lubricated cunt, my knees spreading ever wider to allow you fill me deeper, harder. Speeding up slowly, the strange sensation I suddenly realised was your testicals, your balls swinging against the swollen, sensitive bud of my anus. Your hands, sliding under my buttocks, lifting me, moist fingertips at my anus. Many of your early exploratory fingering of my body led to that forbidden place. My initial shock and distaste had been gradually replaced with a kind of anticipation. You had gotten me used to the occasional fingertip, and we had talked about anal sex. Although I could never, relaxed with you as I was, have voiced the thought – the seed of curiosity had been well and truly planted.

You fucked me. Your cock slamming into me, ever harder, ever faster, My mind, like my cunt, expanding and I wrapped my legs around your bucking waist, heels hammering on your pumping, muscular buttocks. Until my cunt, my virgin cunt, exploded in an intense, body jerking, mind blowing orgasm as intense as any I have ever experienced. I heard your groan, felt you shake and jerk in my arms, and your cock, your beautiful hard thrusting cock, was jerked cruelly out of my liquid clasp, a hot slippery pole sliding up the groove of my totally fucked cunt, and you spat your seed into my flattened, soaking pubic bush and up over my belly. I struggled under your weight, desperate to free myself, until you rolled off me, onto your back. I forced my aching, tingling body to rise and kneel over you, taking your sexily soiled hard on into my mouth. I licked and sucked you clean of semen and pussy juices, revelling in that unique blend of flavours… You took my virginity, offered freely and I committed a heinous act of pure debauchery in the eyes of my family… and it remains to this day, the most wonderful thing I have ever done.


Dear Memory Ch. 1



At the pool, in our little clearing behind the changing rooms. I gave you a blow job, and with you hot and throbbing in my hand, begged you to fuck me again. You took me from behind, as I bent forward, leaning against the changing room wall. You tugged the material of my one piece swimsuit aside. It was awkward, and you slipped out more than once. But the sensation of your hardness, sliding up into my body, your hand spreading the cheeks of my ass… , my juices running down my inner thighs like a veritable flood. Rear entry became my favourite from that day on… and despite the fear of discovery and hurry it engendered, I loved you humping against my ass under the hot, African sun. I could feel, and hear your climax approach and it did think that you were not going to withdraw, and to my shame would have let you pump your seed into me, risking what that entailed. But as ever, your common sense overruled my lusts, as with a hoarse warning, your impaling spike was withdrawn. I managed to spin round to take your cum in my mouth. I was getting rather good at all this.

Our third fuck was in the garden one more time, and I had the pleasurable experience of lowering myself onto your hardness. You removed my pants and left me in my skirt. With my t-shirt and bra hiked up exposing m breasts, you had me squatting over you, impaled on your manhood. It also allowed me to see.. see my dark, swollen lipped pussy sliding up and down your pale, veined shaft. You jerked out of me at the last moment, and wide eyed, I watched your slippery wet length, bob and jerk as you spat your semen up over your belly. Mesmerised by the sight, I made no effort to take you into my mouth.

The end of the holidays came all too soon. And the knowledge that we would be leaving Africa for good prayed on my mind, and finally drove to desperation. Our final lovemaking… I sneaked you into our house for the second time, knowing my parents were out for dinner and would be late home. You came three times that night. In my mouth as I sucked you off in the middle of the living room floor, both of us fully dressed. You picked me up and carried into my bedroom. I was still shy about the little girl appearance, all frills and pastel colours, with too much pink. You told me it looked nice.

You undressed me, removing every stitch of clothing, slowly, kissing each exposed area of flesh. For only the second time I stood naked before you. No longer the shy virgin, but as your lover. You performed what I remember as an act of worship to my body. You kissed and paid homage to every inch, every nook and cranny of my electrically charged body. You spread my thighs, and I held them wide, tendon aching. You ate my pussy, slow and unhurried, as I writhed and moaned and begged you to fuck me. You had other plans, and turned me onto my side, and then you turned around on me, confusing me as you faced my feet, your mouth still pressed to my sex. As your hard cock was once more pressed to my face, I discovered the confusing pleasure of a 69 for the first time. I lost count of the number of times your tongue and fingers made me cum.. but do remember your gushing cock filling my mouth a second time. 

We rested, and I kept a careful eye on the clock, knowing that you would have to be gone and irresistibly, the hour of my parents return crept up on us. We talked vaguely about our futures... silly things, childish things, and we both knew that our destinies lay not within our own hands. I became upset, fearful of the parting we knew must come. You promised not to forget me... and I pretended to believe you. The clock ticked, and our time diminished. “I want you to cum inside me... I want to feel you...” I pleaded. You annoyed me by pointing out that you came in my mouth. “Its not the same!” and a little girl petulance infected my voice. You were gentle, but unyielding, “We – YOU - can’t take that risk.” I cursed your calm and common sense. I pleaded some more and then you said “There is an other way... that would be safe.” I knew immediately what you meant, remembering how you had pressed a finger to my anus now and again. I took little convincing...

“I don’t know… wouldn’t that hurt?”

“Not if you relax.. got any Vaseline?” you grinned I was a bit fearful of the pain and not at all sure that it was an acceptable act of lovemaking. I let you finger the tight little hole, and found it as previously, not unpleasant. I could see how much the idea turned you on – and I was going to do whatever it took to give you your pleasure. 

At your urging I raided the bathroom cabinet and came back with the a small jar of Vaseline. Despite having cum twice your cock was as hard as ever. Then you lay me on my back, legs spread wide as you knelt and entered my well fucked pussy once again. When you withdrew, and raised my bum for the final act, I found my fears had been replaced with a powerful feeling of anticipation. “Relax.. this won’t hurt a bit”, you intoned in your best dentist fashion, anointing my tight opening and the length of your cock with Vaseline. You lied. It hurt. It hurt like a hot poker in my ass… but when I saw the concern on your face I begged you not to stop. Despite the lubrication my asshole felt as it was being torn open… but slowly your gentle movements eased and my abused opening relaxed. The pain lessened and a strange heat began to build. You saw the change in my expression and began to force your self deeper into me. Looking up at you, your expression concerned, intent, your glance flicking from my face and then down to watch your pale cock buggering my virginal brown asshole… it is still with me. You took my hand, unclenching my fingers and placing it over my pussy. Encouraged by your awed and loving expression I understood, and masturbated for you, rubbing my throbbing clitoris, fingering my recently fucked pussy hole. I could feel you! I could feel your cock, through the thin wall of my vagina… and your expression told me that you could feel my finger. To my surprise, I could feel the onset of an orgasm.. a new sensation, your hardness in my ass, my finger, your expression of loving lust.. You started those fast shallow strokes, that with my recently won experience, told me that you were close to cuming. You really did like my ass! “Cum inside me..” I managed to gasp and you did. Feeling you jerk, your hardness pulse, was enough to trigger my own uniquely anal orgasm. I was unlike anything I have ever experienced since. Three times a woman had been a line you explained to me at that first party – mouth, cunt and ass.

You made it out of the house with minuets to spare, any longer, and you would have been trapped inside. Nothing like bars on all the windows to maintain a sense of urgency. I stripped the bed after you left, and soaked in the bath until my parents became worried. Worried about me bathing too long! If only they had known. Then I was gone. Back to Malaysia, back to my cultural prison. I put you away, like a childhood toy that you are ashamed to remember how much you loved. The memory of you faded, like a dream, but never disappeared. My eventual marriage was one of practicality and common sense, not passion. Every time my dutiful husband parted my thighs to perform his husbandly duty, the sense of anticipation I felt was never realised, a nagging, unspecified memory telling me that I was missing something.

So, despite my respectability, my marriage vows, not to mention cultural taboos, I will meet with you. My memories are too powerful, my fingers are jammed too deep inside my aching pussy. The memory of you haunts my tongue - and that young, wild child lives once more in this middle aged body. I will be in that bar tomorrow night, and I will want fucking – fucking out of my mind.

And maybe, just maybe, I will have another story to write……

Part II

Dear Memory,

What have you done to me! I knew, I knew with every logical bone in my body that meeting you again would be a mistake… how trite that sounds. A mistake. My life, my world, threatens to crash down upon my head and that little word, mistake, does not do the situation justice. My husband is convinced that I have been whoring myself, and has voiced his suspicions to his family, who have passed it all to mine. I don’t know where to turn, how to fight this. I can’t fight it because it’s true. I have whored myself… with you… and the problem really is that I want to do it again, and again. My husband knows… not what, not who, but has a good idea about the when. Rani’s alibi has held firm, despite the pressure from the family. But she knows what I did that night… I had to tell her, she is my alibi, but her knowing only makes it more likely that the truth will come out. The worst thing is, that I fear, despite all this hell, that my night of madness may have worth it. Oh God, I don’t know who, or what I am any more. 

Thank you for the compliments… but I know that I am not the wild young thing you fucked senseless all those years ago. Age, marriage and the responsibilities of respectability have taken their toll. Yes, I have kept my figure, and my breasts and ass are firm - but the wrinkles are there… not, dear Memory, that it seemed to lessen your ardour in the slightest.

I got there early, too early, and my nervousness led to at least one drink to many. Dutch courage? But when you strode across that crowded bar, straight towards me, my middle-aged nervousness dropped away, like a heavy coat removed for the heat of summer. And heat there certainly was... in my heart, and between my thighs. The next person sit in my seat would have found a damp patch. God, listen to me – all this is your fault! Despite the years, you didn’t seem to have changed. A little hint of grey at the temples, a little heavier… but I would have known you instantly. Seeing you in a suit and tie was more of a surprise – I almost expected you in the jeans, t-shirt and flip flops of my memory. 

I don’t think I said more than a dozen words to you. I could only look at you, the face of my dear memories, overlaid on your new features, older, wiser features. You must have thought me rude, distant... but if you could have read my mind… I was thinking about your dick. I was remembering kneeling before you in the African sun with my mouth full of you. I was fighting the desire to kneel in that crowded bar and unzip your trousers. Me! A respectable, middle-aged Indian wife! Pure, spine tingling, madness. You chatted so easily, your smiles awakening dormant memories. It was akin to time travel – as if the years, the life I had lead, was a distant dream. That trust I had felt in you is still there. You talked, making up for both of us, telling me how pleased your were to have found me after all these years. I nodded and smiled in the right places, or more or less, and wondered when you would fuck me. You told me about your life, the good bits, the funny bits, some sad bits. I must have seemed disinterested – I can only say ‘sorry, my thoughts were elsewhere’. You glossed over your love affairs – the one bit that caught my attention. Who were they? Did you fuck them like you fucked me? Do they have their own memories of you that they ruthlessly suppress, allowing them to continue their mundane lives? I could take no more, and swallowed the last of my drink in one long gulp. The glass rattled noisily as my shaking hand returned it to the tabletop. “Enough… lets get out of here.” You took it well, and ignored my abruptness, and rising, followed me through the crush to the door. 

The cold air was like a slap in the face, sobering, frightening. My will wavered and I thought of fleeing. Then your arm slipped casually around my waist and you were guiding me down the street. The cold night air was suddenly an invigorating contrast to the heat within me... the desire within me. You told me that you had booked a hotel room, a short walk you said, ten minuets. God! How could I not wait ten tiny minuets to feel your cock? How could such wanton insanity overcome my years of respectability? That ally way beckoned and I cast my dignity into the gutter to pull you into its dark, concealing depths. You offered no resistance, and followed me willingly. I pulled on your arm until the shadows gave me the grubby illusion of privacy. You returned my hungry, desperate kisses, without any hint of reluctance or disapproval. I tasted the brandy on your tongue as I grappled at your waist, tugging at your belt and zipper. I cursed in frustration at my clumsiness – undoing men’s trousers was not a skill an Indian matron practised, and would have shocked my husband. He came naked to our martial bed, and disliked my touching him at all – until he was ready to use my body. Now that same body hungered for your cock, deep in my cunt, my ass.. but quickest and easiest to perform in a filthy ally way… my mouth.

You laughed, that funny little noise you made all those years ago – that spoke of your delight and amusement, but shared, not at my expense. I made a little girl noise of my own, a growl of frustration, and you brushed my hands aside, quickly undoing your belt and opening your flies. You were hard, and my first feeling was one of relief... I made you hard. Fishing your erection out of your underwear was another exercise in patience, but I eventually held you in a firm grip. You nuzzled my ear and whispered that you had a hotel room a few minuets away. 

“I can’t wait that long.” was my wanton response, and then I squatted in that filthy ally way and pressed my lips to the circumcised helmet that was an old friend, absent for all too long. No playful licks or kissing, my hunger was too fierce, too urgent. I filled my mouth and throat with your throbbing thickness until I gagged and spluttered. I milked the base of your shaft urgently, spluttering and snorting through my nose, sucking on your maleness. You were bigger than my memory of you. Bigger than my husband. I felt your finger brush the hair away from my face, and knew that you were looking down at me, mouth stretched to accommodate your cock, and felt such a flush of pleasure... I almost came there and then. For all my desire I felt clumsy, awkward. I wanted to taste your cum, I wanted to drink your essence, and I lacked any type of technique... the expertise that I had learned in that summer of love had long since atrophied, I was used to being fucked in the mouth, not using my mouth as a means of forcing a climax. To my dismay and frustration I was forced to draw back, as I almost choked myself. I looked up at your comforting features and moaned in my frustration. And you understood. Didn’t you? You knew what I wanted and gently took control. Your hands held my head in a gentle, firm grip, and you began to slide you cock back and forth in my open mouth. This I understood, keeping my lips firmly pressed to your shaft as you fucked my open mouth, firm, but restrained. I could feel the tension build in you, the tremor in your hips and the firmer grip of your steadying hands. I knew the moment of your crisis, the throb in your shaft, the suddenly stillness of your thrusting hips, and the tremble in your hands. I could feel that first spurt of your semen travel down your cock. Then it was jetting against the roof of my mouth. I didn’t swallow immediately…. I wanted my mouth filled with your seed. I wanted savour the taste of you. The scent of semen filled my nasal passages, and I fought not to sneeze. You filled me to overflowing, a dribble down my chin, until reluctantly, I let your aromatic seed, slide down my throat. I sucked at your undiminished manhood, seeking every drop of your cum, before letting you slide free of my mouth.

You had to help me rise, as the awkward squatting had caused my abused knees to seize up. I wiped my chin on my jacket sleeve, but was pleased at your immediate insistence on kissing me, your tongue down my throat, your hands on my ass. My husband rarely kissed me after sex, and never if he had recently cum in my mouth. Your attitude to me, your delight in me, and the respect you paid me was as powerful and as meaningful as that special youth of my memory. I knew there and then that I was doing something that would shake the very foundations of my world. For all its terrors, I also knew that given the opportunity, I would not be changing a thing. You zipped your pants up and once more we passed for something that could be mistaken as respectable, and you lead me the rest of the way to the hotel. 

Do you remember the look that man at the desk gave us? A few hours earlier I would have curled up in abject shame.. but I was no longer that person. I actually blew him a mocking kiss! You were funny, apologising for the ordinariness of the room. Did you think I expected the honeymoon suite? I had just sucked your cock and drank you cum in a grubby ally! Rest assured, my dream, it was a fine room for what we had in mind. And I knew exactly what I needed first. I heard you say something about having a shower, but I was in no mood to delay what my body craved. I walked over to the bed, unhooked my long skirt and dropped it in a heap around my ankles. I bent forward at the waist, hands on the bed, and offered you my rear end. No words were required and you wisely kept your mouth shut, as once more you read my mind and my desires. I shivered when you roughly skinned my soaking knickers down, whimpered when your strong hands spread my bottom, thumbs reaching down to split my honeyed peach. You knew what I wanted... no words, no caress, just the long hard intrusion of your cock, hilt deep into my aching cunt. I rocked forward as you slammed into me, hard, fast, just as my body craved. My lowered knickers and entangling skirt made it awkward for me to spread my legs wider but it mattered little. The feel of your hardness, thrusting into my body was a time warp back to my reckless youth. I was sixteen again, crouched behind the changing rooms, cunt exploding with sensations, knees trembling, biting my lip to still my cries… some things had changed, and I must have horrified you, crying out, saying those words... fuck me, fill my cunt, fuck me harder, more, more, more… I don’t think you came, holding my sweaty hips, your hardness driving into me, again and again like some untiring automaton. It was a wonderful fuck.. no finesse, no playing. Just hard and deep and endless… all I know is that I was lost in one unending, gut wrenching, body jerking release of pent up lusts and frustration - and honestly, I don’t really know if was an orgasm or not. The sensations built and built, no peak, just going on and on. It all became too much, and I finally pulled free of you hands, collapsing face down on the bed, body jerking and twitching, ass jiggling in the air. I must have looked a sight.. mind you, when I finally rolled over and looked through my tears at you.. standing with your trousers round your knees, wet cock bobbing in the air… sorry I started laughing.

You finally gathered me up, walked me into the shower and then stripped me naked, just like you did in my bedroom all those years ago. I felt as if I had drunk too much. Light headed, dizzy. We showered, and the water brought me back to reality. Showering with you, our naked, soapy bodies sliding against each other... it was as good as the sex. I sucked you some more... you nearly broke your neck trying to get your tongue into my crack. 

We eventually ended up on the bed. It was wonderful... to lie and enjoy each other’s company, gentle now, the wild lusts and urges satiated. You made the same old joke, about wishing you had my tan. I loved your paleness against my darker tones… a pleasing contrast. I took a long time playing with your cock, reacquainting myself with an old, dear friend. You are bigger than I remember, more gnarled, more veined, an older, wiser, lived in cock. I idly wondered, dear cock, where you had been, what you had seen. How many pussies had opened for you? How many mouths and asshole’s? You have a tummy that my memory is sure was not there before… but then so have I. But for all the superficial changes it was as if the last twenty years had never been. You are the same person who consumed my heart and soul under an African sun.. I was almost sure that a clock was ticking somewhere, and my parents due home any minuet. 




Dear Memory Ch. 1



The night passed in a pleasant blur of companionable silence, deep conversations and glorious, guilt free, pleasurable sex. I sucked on your cock and you ate my pussy. You lay on me as I wrapped my legs around your waist, your hardness driving me crazy as you fucked me slowly, withdrawing almost entirely from my honeyed hole, then that gut churning slide back into me, until you pressed my cervix with your thick blunt tip… again and again and again.

I rode you like a cowgirl in a cheap western. Working my pussy up and down the impaling thickness until I thought my head would explode with an overload of pleasure. You rolled me over and fucked me face down on the bed. Thrusting into my upraised ass, grunting in my ear. You fucked my breasts, sliding in the lubrication of spit and pussy juice as I held my tits together to form a channel, licking and sucking your glans each time you came into reach. You had only cum that once, in the ally, and I was starting to worry. “I want you to cum.. inside me.” You smiled your lopsided smile and I knew what you were going to say even before I heard the words, 

“You, we, can’t take that risk.” You paused in true dramatic style, “There is an other way... that would be safe.” I could not help myself and played along. “I don’t know… wouldn’t that hurt?”

“Not if you relax.. got any Vaseline?” you grinned.

That stumped me, and I didn’t know what to say. Then your grin became wider, and you fished in the pile of your clothes by the bed. “I think some KY would do the trick.” And you held up the tube.

Bastard.

It didn’t hurt this time.. I was more than ready and probably as relaxed as I have ever been in my life – take a note - three hours of serious fucking can do that to you. The difference this time was that I insisted on being propped up on elbows and pillows and by straining my neck, I watched you force your pale, greased thickness into the small, dark knot of my anus. Oh god! There really are no words to describe the sensation, the passage of a throbbing cock past the tight, sensitive sphincter, filling me… I jammed my fingers deep into my vagina to feel you once again. For only the second time in my life, I felt that indescribable sensation of anal excitement.. and urged you on with loud, dirty, filthy words “Fuck my asshole. - Fill my ass - Cum in me. - Shove your white cock up my brown ass. - Fuck me. - Bugger my hole!”. I yelled words at you I am ashamed to admit knowing… and had that incredible anal induced orgasm once again. You came this time. I thrilled as your face contorted, lost its composure… you groaned like your life was ending and I could feel the semen pass down your thrusting cock to fill my ass. It was a magical as my memories recalled. 

We showered again, and you seemed to take special delight in cleansing my abused little opening... not that I was complaining. Clean and dry we crawled once more into the bed and cuddled, petted and eventually fell asleep in each other’s arms. I woke early, still inside your protective embrace… and studied your sleeping face. I cried. I cried for the life that had never been... the life that could never be... I cried because I had never felt so good, and for the fact that I feared I would never feel so good again. I cried because I was lost. I cried because I had never been so happy. I cried for what I had found, and at the same time, for what I had lost. Who ever said we were simple?

I had dried my eyes and composed myself before waking you in a way that I had often imagined, but never attempted. I uncovered your sleeping body and gazed down the your semi-hard cock and its nest of curly hair. I slithered down and took you into my mouth once more and sucked back to full erection. You awoke during the process and began to stroke my hair. Then you rolled me onto my back and spread my willing thighs. You lay on me, slipped into me, and at last... I held you tightly in my arms and thighs as you filled my pussy with your cum. There were tears in my eyes again, but I do not think you noticed. And I would have denied it if you had. We lay together for another hour or so, before using the shower again. It was more subdued this time, the hour of parting weighing down our spirits once again. You started to ask me to stay with you, run away… but I could not listen to that. I hushed you, firmly… and I am sorry for the pain on your face. I was, still am, touched by your desires… and your reluctance to comply with my wishes. Your walked me to the station and I can still see your face as the train pulled away. We should have been in a black and white movie – the kind with a sad ending.

And now. Now I have a husband who thinks I am a whore. A family in turmoil due to his loudly voiced suspicions, pressurising my closest friend to betray my confidences. Why does he suspect me? He suspects me because I could not fit back into the role of a compliant wife... to be used when he desired something to fuck. I made the mistake of trying to express my own burning needs, fires of lust stoked by you. I wanted him to eat me, fuck my ass… He knows… he just can’t prove anything. Rani is my alibi, I spent the evening at her house, and he cannot prove otherwise. But he knows that she is covering up for me… it seems only a matter of time. Dear memory, what have you done to me? What do I do now? What have I done?

Comments appreciated and responded to the address in my profile.



Dear Memory Ch. 2



Dear Memory,

Better news, dear heart. Things are becoming clearer, I know more about myself and where and who I want to be. My life is more stable, my husband silent. To be fair, I should not make it sound to you as if he has been the unloving one in this strained relationship. He is a good man, and deserving of more than I can offer. He married me with the best of intentions… and found a cold and unwelcoming woman in his bed. It was inevitable in a way. The secret passion of my youth that was you, led me to expect the same kind of consideration that you so freely gave to me. It was naïve and unreasonable of me to expect this stranger to know the secret, inner me. It was something that I could never express, and so resented, silently, sullenly. The state of my marriage has more to do with the memories I brought to it, than any thing he did. Recent events have led me to admit this to myself at last. For years my resentment was unconscious, wrapped up as it was in thoughts and feelings that I had thought that I had left safely in the past. He learned to expect my cold sullenness, and his attitude was set by no one else but myself. My recent sudden interest in matters sexual - a stupid attempt to perform oral sex on a suddenly suspicious man… a poorly worded hint at him to try something different, like anal sex. Stupidity, pure stupidity. Attitudes of years are not changed overnight without repercussions. 

The suspicions still hang heavy in the air, the raised voices of accusation have fallen silent, but there are enough unspoken thoughts to make any normal conversation a minefield. But with no evidence, and Rani's alibi, there is no more that they can do. 

But there is now something else, some new sin to hide. It shames me to confess that our recent tryst has awakened the fires of lust in me. I thought them banked, subdued by time and advancing age. And now I have committed yet another transgression of respectability in my families eyes... but I am sure that yours, my hedonistic memory, will light with unbridled delight. Rani has been, still is, a dear friend. Dear enough to entrust with my dreadful, weighty secret. She is from a wealthy family, born here in the UK, an only child to liberal, westernised parents. She has led the life that I had only dreamed of. She has had lovers, remains unmarried with her thirties approaching. We met through our families, and I fear that the intention was for me to be a suitable role model for her! Instead we became firm friends, and she has been more of an influence upon me, than I on her. Over time I have grown to trust her, confide my unhappiness to her, and have urged her to take full advantage of life and of love. It appears that she has done just that. She had numerous lovers, married men among them. She had hinted at a rich sexual life, dropped casual remarks about being tied up, threesomes and foursomes. She had even told me that she had accepted money, a great deal of money, to sleep with certain wealthy men.

My current indiscretion delighted her. She was more than happy to be my alibi. I had returned to her house after you did those things to me… or the things I did to you, and she saw the change in me quite clearly. The rather prime and proper wife came home looking like someone who had been shagged within an inch of her life. Her words! She, of countless lovers, told me that she was jealous of me – and I glowed with inner pleasure. She also warned me not to let my reawakened lusts affect my relationship with my husband. I wish that I had had the strength to follow her advice. The two weeks of accusatory hell that followed made her warning prophetic. But now to the real reason for this confession.

I stayed with her last weekend, despite my families reservations. They phoned several times, simply to check that I was where I was supposed to be. But that is not the story I have to relate. I confessed to her that I was desperate to see you again… and she wanted to know more. We sat and shared a bottle of wine, and she gently pressed me for details. My hunger for you, my need to share the effect on had on me… I confess that I told her it all. My outrageous performance in that ally way. Her eyes had widened in admiring surprise when I tried to put into words, my hunger to have you inside my body, if only my mouth. My need to relive the heat and passion of a sixteen year old, delighting in making your masculine strength moan and quiver with a touch of my lips. The warmth and tenderness that flooded through my body when your sperm filled my mouth. The heady dejevu as the scent and taste of your seed gushed forth…

I needed to share the intense, pleasurable sensation of your cock thrusting into my pussy, your eyes bright with lust as you gazed down at my wide stretched, cock swallowing cunt. Your weight on me, your mouth. I told her, voice breaking, heat in my face, how you buggered me, an how I urged you on, the language I had used.

Wrapped up in my story, reliving the experience I paid little attention to the effect this was having on Rani. Or myself for that matter. A combination of wine and lust was overtaking us both… The fantasy that we had talked about more than once was now very much on the cards. Rani had hinted in the past that she had made love to women. I had been far too shocked to follow up on her non-to-subtle hints, and made a point of ignoring her. It was not something that I had ever seriously considered. The one or two times, in post coital bliss, it was a fantasy that you had talked about… but never one that I had ever entertained. You would like her. Not beautiful, but defiantly sexy. Rather skinny with a firm, full chest that men seem drawn to. 

When she rose from the chair opposite me, I knew what she was going to do, and made no effort to ward her off. I just let it happen. I guess that I wanted it to happen also. My reliving of our night of passion had turned me on, at least as much as it had Rani. The difference was, she was used to doing something about it. She stopped and looked down at me. "I'm as horny as hell". There was a note of apology in her voice, but also a question. "Me too." I managed to nod, and I guess my smile must have been encouraging enough.

How can I describe it to you. I know that it has always been an, er… interest of yours. The "everyman" fantasy you talk about. It has not really been something that I have ever given serious consideration to. I have always found a good looking girl attractive, most women would admit to that much at least. But sex? Are we not supposed to feign outrage and horror at the very thought of it? Maybe - I am now past such displays of hypocrisy. I have thought about making love to another women, more than once. My inhibitions were now as low as they have ever been, fear of discovery, memories of your hardness inside of me. A dash of alcohol. Good combination for an initiation to a new sexual perversion!

Rani made love to me, and I to her. It was good… but dear memory, fear not. I missed your cock. Will that be sufficient detail for your eager ears? Ha! I know just how you must be salivating at the thought of us together. I will put you out of your misery. Some of the details that I know that you are dying to hear. She was good… almost as good as you. She sat beside me, and tentatively moved to kiss me. I did have a sudden pang of fright, and sat ridged and frozen as she kissed me, like a man, her tongue slipping past my unresisting lips. But once she slipped a hand between my thighs and rucked my skirt up, exposing my knickers, I was very close to ending things before they had actually begun. She broke the kiss, and looked my straight in the eyes. Holding my gaze, she carefully slipped her hand into the waistband of my knickers, her warm finger tips in my pubic hair, and then stopped.

"The next move is up to you". Her voice was warm, concerned. I knew that I could simply shake my head, murmur a quiet "No" and it would be over. No hard feelings, something to laughed at, blamed upon the wine. Her fingers lightly combed the silky curls on my mons… heat and juices flowed below… the choice was not hard to make. I caught her wrist in firm grip and pressed her hand down, deeper into my pants, fingers down to my eager clit. I closed my eyes and just let it happen. Her fingers found me moist and ready for her, my clit swollen and aching for her touch. She dipped her fingers, withdrew and I opened my eyes to watch her taste me.

"Hmmm… " her voice was silk, "Supper time?", and slipped off the settee and knelt before me, spreading my thighs. I moaned in eager anticipation when she lowered her face into my lap and began brushing her lips over my pussy, through sheer material of my knickers. I don't know what it is about that thin barrier of material, but it certainly seems to enhance the sensation. Maybe it is anticipation, because when she pulled the soaked cotton aside and stuck her tongue in my hole… instant orgasm. She knew her way around a pussy, and I was defiantly not the first that she had worked her magic upon. She performed a text book special on oral sex. Licking and sucking my throbbing clit, spreading my lips with her fingers to lash the length of my sex with her tongue. She fingered my pussy and asshole while I gripped her long black hair in a death grip, hips bucking as she gave me a series of carefully crafted multiple orgasms. She was good.

And then the bill. I lay panting and passive, catching my breath as Rani stood, her face shiny with my arousal. She stripped with an easy, arrogant grace, that was perfectly calculated to tease a prospective lover. Her breasts were indeed of the firm, upstanding variety, with small dark nipples that I envied on sight. She gave me a queer smile as she undid her jeans, hooking her fingers in the waistband. She slipped them down, then seductively repeated process with her knickers, enjoying my reaction. She was as bald as a baby. I guess that I had never really considered the appeal before… but her bare mound and exposed labia certainly opened my eyes, literally and metaphorically. I knew there and then that I was going to imitate her. Thoughts of just what effect that might have upon my husband never entered my head – my only thoughts were of you. My nervousness returned as Rani stepped free of her jeans and gave me that expectant look. It was time to pay the piper. 

She was patient with me. Stepping up to me, long legs either side of mine, her flat stomach and bare sex pressing forward. I was still lying back, deep in the settee, as she carefully knelt on the edge, a knee either side of me. The hairless, gleaming swell of her mound came closer, as she leaned forward, hands finding the back of the settee. Closer to my wide eyed face, mesmerised by the smooth brown lips, slightly parted, a hint of moist pink. I found myself unconsciously holding my breath, and had to force myself to inhale deeply. The scent of her was distinct, heady. Is this what I am like to you? Do you approach my sex with such trepidation, anticipation? Inches from me now, and a slight movement on my part and the tip of my nose brushed the smooth skin. She was hot, almost burning, and as I gently moved my nose down the aromatic groove of her sex. I was reward by a tremor, a whisper of pleasure and encouragement. I lifted leaden hands, placing them on the top of her hips, fingers splayed across her mound. I parted the swollen, outer lips and revealing the inner glory, a delight of pinks, dark to light, and the honey coating of her excitement. I dipped my tongue into that humid crevice and tasted my first pussy, - other than my own. What does pussy taste like? Can you describe it? A hint of the seashore, a faint metallic tang? It seemed the same as mine and yet uniquely different. I felt rather awkward… self conscious. I've rubbed a clit and fingered a pussy since I was fifteen, but this was so very, very different. I found myself thinking that I was you, your mouth pressed to my open cunt. It seemed to do the trick and I rather surprised myself by really starting to enjoy the sensation. The goal of making her twitch, moan and shudder with pleasure, became a pleasure all of its own. I ate. I fingered. I licked and sucked and drank her juices. She finally collapsed over me, and we writhed and twisted our way into a sixty-nine, with her on top of me. It was a little disconcerting, as the position placed my nose up near her asshole, but once she started her tongue working on me, it soon became totally irrelevant.

Worried yet? Don't be dear heart. For all her expertise and almost mechanical skill at bringing me to orgasm, she lacked the one thing my body craved. I wanted your manhood, filling my cunt, your sperm jetting against my cervix. Her fingers, however talented, made poor substitutes. I wanted your weight on me, your balls banging against my ass as you thrust your length over and over again into my hungry pussy. I wanted… I wanted you sliding your cock into my burning asshole, while I ground against her open mouth, her tongue in my pussy. I blush with shame to admit this, and it is a measure of my trust and confidence in you - but I wanted you to fuck her. I wanted to see your cock, pale and veined and hard, sliding into her smooth lipped pussy. Is it sane of me to want to share you in that way? How can I even consider the idea, never mind telling you about it? I must be mad… and yet, I also know that she is no threat to me. It is a measure of the trust you engender in me. It is not that I am jealous of you sleeping with other women… it is the fear that you will stop desiring me. And I don't have that fear.

You told me this once. I never understood just what, or how, you could believe what you were saying. Jealousy is the simply the selfish emotion of possession, based upon the fear that you will prove to be inadequate. Jealousy is the antithesis of love. Men are afraid to share their wives and girlfriends out the fear that the other guy may have a bigger one! So trite… so true. Because I understand it now, and the fact that people truly at ease with each other can risk that kind of sharing, if the bond of trust and respect between them relies upon more than the shallow concerns of the physical. If you enjoyed Rani's body more than my own… I would be happy to give you that pleasure. That is what love is.

So, sweet memory, this time it is me asking you to do something wanton and debauched. I want you to come to Rani's apartment. I want to watch your cock going into her bare pussy. I want to watch your cum dribble down her chin when you cum in her mouth. I want her eating me while you fuck me in the ass. I want to hold her in my arms, feeling her body shudder as your cock fills her cunt with cum. I want to see the expression on her face when you fuck her in the ass. I want you watching me as I eat her pussy, and watch her eating mine.

Have I shocked you? Delighted you? I think maybe both at the same time. You started all this, so you have only yourself to blame… I do wish I could see your face.

Talk to me soon dear memory.

Part IV

Sweet memory. It is done. My decision has been made and the train of events that your emergence from my past set in motion have reached their inevitable conclusion. The mind-expanding events of last weekend have sealed my fate. Let whatever happens, happen. I can no longer live this lie. With Rani's enthusiastic aid, preparations have been made, and all that remains is for me to close the door behind me. Without your support I would have been condemned, along with my undeserving husband and our respective families, to continue the charade that my life had become.

I still find if difficult to comprehend what a momentous changes you have wrought in me, and in my life. So long the sober matron of an idealised, modern Indian marriage – how could I have had been so swiftly, so comprehensively, transformed into the abandoned sexual predator that you uncovered in less than a month? My family, my husband and to a degree, I suspect, even Rani - may well believe that you have possessed my soul, my mind, like some demon of legend. But I know that the truth lies more in the fact that you have freed me from such a darkness. Far from ensnaring my soul, you have instead liberated it – that younger, wilder soul who writhed and moaned in climactic passion under a tropical sun.

Have you recovered yet, my sweet abiding memory? We did rather tire you out. Do you still feel the same way about me? Still willing to go all the way with this middle aged matron? Or are your eyes still full of Rani – she of the youthful body, full bosom and firm lipped cunt? I'm teasing, honest. I fear nothing of the sort – I have seen in your eyes, into your soul… and feel secure. I also know you are aware that my sharing you was as enjoyable for me as it was yourself… and no doubt, this last weekend, will not be the last time it happens. I have rediscovered the joy of debauchery!

Did we really do that? Did it really happen… or was it some insane dream? The hours before your arrival almost turned me into a nervous wreck. I guess I drank too much of Rani's wine… but, Oh God was I nervous. Rani was the cool one. Done it all before, chill out… and then you were there, standing in the doorway – and it was Rani who turned into a gibbering fool! I thought it was all over at that point. Even you, dear memory, looked as if you would rather be anywhere else, than facing the two of us. I really did think the whole evening was going to turn into an embarrassed diner party! Your faces – when I stamped my foot and told you both to 'stop pissing me off 'cos I wanted fucking!' As a method of breaking the ice, I guess it is one that from now on I am going to recommend to anybody foolish enough to ask my advice.

I almost wet myself when put on that commanding expression and then you told me to shut up and park my ass on the settee… but the sudden wicked gleam in your eye was something I had learned, relearned, to recognise. When you promptly told Rani to sit next to me and started unzipping your flies I began to salivate with anticipation. I loved the masterful tone – but do try not to giggle next time. I did so love the way you played with us both, pressing our faces close and teasing our open mouths with the tip of your erection. Smug, I confess, but I knew you'd enter my mouth first. God, I loved it. Sitting there, fully dressed, open mouth full of your hardness, with Rani sitting obediently next to me. I find it hard to believe how eager I was to see you shove your cock into her mouth… and what satisfaction… what simple pleasure it was when you did. 

Wide eyed, she took you very deep - do I sound envious? I was! Her nose almost touched your curly hairs. I really must swap notes with her on oral technique, I am sure that she could teach me a thing or two. I thought that you would cum quickly, but you seemed to be in no great hurry – although you were clearly enjoying yourself. Withdrawing until just your glans was teasing her open, drooling mouth, lashed by her tongue, you seemed to be lost in the moment. You were just enjoying the sight of her, of us? You clearly loved rubbing your spit smeared cock over her face, the shallow pokes into an open mouth and then the slow, deep insertion that made her snort and draw back. My turn again… as if you wanted to see which of our willing openings could take you the deepest. Competition was fierce but I think it would be fair to call it a draw? You were moving slowly back and forth in my hungry mouth, your glans distending my cheek when I tugged your pants down and slipped a hand under you to cup the furry pouch of your balls as I heard you groan… and felt, tasted even, the tension in you. Sorry if I seemed a little abrupt as I pulled off your hard spike and pointed you at Rani's flushed features… I'm sure you know me well enough to believe me when I say that I love you cuming in my mouth, but I wanted you to christen Rani.




Dear Memory Ch. 2



I was rather pleased that you didn't quite make it – splattering her cheek and nose before sinking between her encircling lips. The pale streaks on her dark features were a moving sight, complimented by your pumping the remaining gift down her throat. I glanced up and found you looking at me, and laughed at your grimace of disappointment. I guess you wished you could have lasted a little longer? Ha! The arrogance of the male – it's more flattering that you were unable to resist our charms! Never fear – the night was but young.

There was a momentary return to the earlier embarrassing pause. Is this a feature of threesomes, I wondered? Not on my watch, as they say. Besides, I had something I really looked forward to showing you. How did I become so bossy? All your fault I am sure. It was your turn to sit upon the settee, and I coax Rani into standing before you. She was remarkable passive, maybe understanding how this was my moment, and she was prepared to let me do things the way I desired. What I desired was to put on a show for you. How did I do? You seemed appreciative my attempts to tease your, running my hand over her clothed body, cupping her breasts and loins. I loved the way I could lead your gaze over her body. Her blouse came off first, rather traditional, but it works. The black, half-cup bra really did show her breasts off wonderfully. You showed you're appreciation with flutter of applause, but I do know you well enough to know that breasts, however presented are not you major interest. 

Moving to hips, and the short skirt that I had insisted she wore, I know I had her interest - your cock twitched! Don't try to deny it – I was watching closely.

I took my time once again, inching her skirt up the long, smooth columns of her thighs. I'm surprised how much pleasure there can be in teasing – maybe even more when you get the chance to use someone else's body! I eventually took pity on you, dear heart, and undid the hook of her skirt, letting it slide down to pool around her ankles. Your eyes were riveted on the juncture of her thighs… I do believe that I had your undivided attention. I regret having told you of her smooth condition, it would have been rather nice to spring it as a surprise. Still, I swear you cock grew an inch as I mischievously inched her briefs off her hips. Revealing the smooth hairless mound of her mons, and the neat, thin lipped furrow of her sex – for your mesmerised gaze – made my knees weak and my pussy moist. What is it with you men? Not that I'm complaining – but for all my delight at the sight of a hard, well shaped, cock, I could never fall into that adoring rapture men seem to a the sight of a pussy!

I wish I'd had a camera to capture your expression. Do you know you licked you actually licked your lips? I worked a finger tip along her enticing groove, parting her, revealing her moist inner surfaces – then slipped a finger deep into her honey pot. I heard you gasp! I could feel Rani tremble inside my encircling arms – what power I wielded that night. I was the puppet master, or I supposed that should be mistress! You liked watching me finger her – don't try to deny it. God – I loved every minuet of it! Withdrawing the shiny finger, I led your eyes up her body once more, I think I could have hypnotised you there and then. You groaned when it brought my finger to my lips, inhaling her scent, then sucked it clean. I was tempted to repeat the performance until you spouted – you were masturbating! Maybe it was unconscious, but Rani rather spoiled the mood by giggling – and telling you not to waste it. Ah, dear memory, you blushed!

It was hard not to show my amusement, and fought hard not to join in with her giggles. I slapped her lightly on the ass, and commanded her to turn around. She was compliant, and I had her bend forward, resting her hands on the coffee table. You leaned forward, then, as if to kiss her exposed buttocks. She has a lovely ass… pale coffee coloured cream. I spread her cheeks and let you feast your eyes on her cunt, and the dark whorl of her asshole. I touched my wet finger tip to the tight opening, feeling the heat in her, and casually asked you if you wanted to fuck her there. You nearly choked – and then gave me a kind of suspicious nod. Not yet, I told you with mock seriousness.

All kinds of ideas were running through my head. Should I let you eat her while I watched? Should stick my tongue into that inviting cleft while you looked on? While to fucked me? Ah, sweet memory, what decisions! In the end I decided to give you the full selection, and moved to stand at her side, and adopted the same position, showing you my behind. Do you know how much your hands trembled as you slipped my knickers down, and off? How did you enjoy the sight of our brown backsides, our assholes and pouting pussies? I let to have a feel, a kiss and lick of each of us before reasserting my control. We both rose and removed the remains of each other's clothing. A rather armature lesbian act was performed for your entertainment – I guess we did ok, because you never took you eyes off us. Entwined, kissing – mouths and nipples and hands between thighs… we sank to the floor and the pre arranged cushions, for a greedy sixty nine. I kind of forgot about you for a while… busy wriggling around on Rani's probing tongue and concentrating on eating Rani hot little cunt. I'm sure you didn't mind if we ignored you for a while. Did you watch Rani licking me, watch her tongue in my pussy? Where you watching me eat her? We rolled around quite a bit, sometime I was on top, sometimes it was her turn to be riding me… I lost it for a while, cuming nosily, rubbing clit against her nose…

How long did you wait? I have no idea how long we writhed around before you where shoving the cushion under Rani's ass, lifting her hips and raising her thighs. Your cock seemed huge, waving around under my nose and quickly abandoned the steamy slit to take you into my mouth. Sorry – guess I interrupted – but I figure you'd didn't really mind. Then the sight I had been trying to visualise ever since that initial session with her… watching the blunt wedge of your glans parting her slick, buttery labia and slide slowly into her overflowing cunt. She bucked under me, and her open mouth gasped hot air into my sex… I had an orgasm watching your pale cock spread and fill her hot brown pussy… I can still see it, in techno colour detail. Her coral pink, engorged inner lips seemed to clasp you shaft, the shiny bud of her exposed clitoris that begged for the rasp of my tongue… I get wet thinking about it.

You fucked her, slow and steady. I loved the occasional pauses as you withdrew from her honeyed grasp to fuck my willing mouth for a few strokes -before sinking back into her hot wet depths. I was kind of disappointed when you withdrew and moved around to repeat the process on my pussy and Rani's mouth. God, you felt huge. I'm sure you seemed bigger than ever… a happy side affect of letting you fuck the pair of us? I really ought to do some proper testing of this interesting theory. I assume you would be willing to assist in my research?

A lifetime later, you returned, and once again I was treated to the sight of your manhood buried in my friends cunt. I heard the catch in your breathing, and sensed that you were about to cum a second time… You started to withdraw you engorged cock and I begged you to cum inside her. Oh god… I swear I saw you cock throbbing as you pumped your seed into her. Rani seemed well aware what was happening because she chose that moment to force her slippery thumb into my ass. I sucked her clit, and lapped at the base of your embedded shaft. When you pulled back, the creamy fluid of you semen seeped out of her, and I lapped eagerly at the unique mixture. Pussy juice and cum… God, how disgusting must I sound to you? Not that it seemed to bother you much, quite the reverse. I'll say it again – I love tasting your semen, as it leaked from her well fucked pussy. God, it makes me horny just saying it.

After that, things seemed to calm down a little. Rani and I continued to play, while you relaxed, looking on with undiminished interest. We took a few breaks, enjoyed a noisy, delightfully cramped shower and even had a bite to eat. We ended up in the bedroom, and you seemed well recovered. You made love to me on the bed. Gentle and slow, while Rani looked on, bright eyed. You did not cum, and it seemed to last an age. A lazy, friendly fuck would describe it. When I urged you not to neglect Rani, you repeated the performance. I enjoyed watching you together… In particular I love watching you take her doggy style. Watching your cock sliding into her from behind, not to mention a little bit of clitoral stimulation gave me another gentle orgasm. Seeing the mouth of her vagina, stretched tightly around your thickness, moving back and forth in time to your lazy thrusts… aahh. Am I odd? I don't feel too insane… it strikes me as more crazy not to be able to enjoy the pleasures we shared that night. 

The evening became the early hours. You rested while Rani and I did a little more finger fucking, a lot more pussy eating. We both came several times, and how I loved looking over and watching you, watching me writhe around on Rani's fingers or on the tip of her tongue. I found myself fucking her all the harder, using every trick that I could think of to make her explode for your watchful pleasure. Even without any active involvement from you we fucked each other's brains out! We rested, and actually dozed off, waking to find Rani giving you some more head. Watching her licking your shaft, your balls and then swallowing the length of you had me eager for more. I ate her, as she sucked on you, until we swapped roles with an oddly polite kind of ease. Having her tongue in my pussy and my mouth full of your cock… it just kept getting better. We fucked some more, and I rather enjoyed Rani straddling your waist, riding your cock - especially when she turned and faced your feet. When she leaned back, I had an uninterrupted view of her smooth hairless pussy stretched around your thickness, sliding up and down the greasy pole of your cock. The rear view, and her leaning forward gave me that lovely view similar to the rear entry position, except that it was her moving up and down your cock, instead of you sliding back and forth into her…. Don't really know why that should make any difference – just trust me when I say that it does. 

I started to worry that you still hadn't cum again… just once over Rani and half in her mouth, then gloriously buried in her pussy. You were still rock hard, looking swollen and uncomfortable with all this fucking and sucking… and my evil little mind knew full well where I wanted your third load depositing. Behind the bedroom curtain, sky had turned the delicate, eggshell blue of dawn. You were hilt deep in Rani, in a comfortable spoons fashion, massaging those full breasts and their delicious, chocolate coloured nipples when I jumped up and hurried back into the clothes strewn living room. You gave me quizzical, raised eyebrow at my return, and I simply showed you the little tube of lubricating jelly. You rolled your eyes, you bastard! Wisely I ignored you and gave Rani a light slap and watched her slide off your embedded cock. She was as compliant as ever, probably dying to get some sleep – and I made her lie on her tummy. I smeared a large dollop of jelly into the dark starfish of her anus, which made her jump. That jelly did feel cold. I flopped down beside her, and presented my own bum to you. "Do me, and hop aboard", I commanded grandly.

You did, and it was my turn to yelp. It was cold. There was a pause as you anointed yourself, and then you spread my buttocks. Your cock, as ever, felt far too large for my poor little opening, but could not help pressing up, trying to force your entry. You kindly used a slippery finger to warm the muscle, and from Rani's sharp gasp, I assumed you were working stereo. I was more than ready for the touch of your hot, burning tip – although, as always you did feel far too large for the accommodation offered. I was an old had at this by now, and pressed up, forcing your thickness through the plane of my sphincter. I stretched easily, with minimum discomfort and groaned loudly as you slid your ridged length deep into me. Why does a stiff cock up the ass feel so good? I have no idea… but oh, god it does. You ploughed my ass with a slow and steady stroke, and I feared that you seemed quite content to stay there. I hissed at you to give Rani a poke, but felt so empty when you withdrew. Rani's sharp intake of breath had me turning to watch her face screw up, as she chewed on her lower lip. I slide my hand under her, and reached between her thighs, cupping her pussy in the palm of my hand. She turned and muttered an "Ooh yes" and repeated the act on me. My fingers slipped into her dripping pussy – and there was your cock! The thin membrane separating the two passages was almost intangible. I heard you grunt, I knew you could feel my fingers. It was one of the strangest sensations! Feeling your cock buried in her ass with my fingers in her pussy!

A groan from Rani, pressure on my back and it was my turn wheeze as you filled my ass once more. I could feel Rani's fingers in my pussy and knew that she was experiencing the same sensation. "Nice, isn't it?" she asked throatily. I could only moan in response. I suddenly knew that this was not the first time she had experienced this. Like a cork from a bottle you pulled out of my ass, a shift of aim and it was Rani's turn to grunt. Half a dozen strokes and I was being hammered into the bed once again. You were thrusting harder, for fewer strokes each time, and I could hear your breathing turning in that pre orgasmic pant… it was becoming rather tuneful, Rani grunting, then me moaning and you panting in a steadily increasing tempo! Then you were there, driving into my upturned ass, your hand suddenly gripping my hips and you bucked and jerked on my back, as your throbbing cock pumped your third load of semen into my ass. You have never cum like that before, you yelled out, and moaned is if it was you with red-hot poker up your rear! I hadn't really felt close to an orgasm up until that point – but your explosive, spurting climax tipped my neatly over the edge. Wow… you really must have been saving that one up! I suppose we had rather kept you on the boil all night! You rolled me onto my side, humping away as if your life depended on it – the actually rolled onto her back! I lay on you, her cock as deep in my ass as it had ever been. The finally stilled, and I could feel you leaking out of my abused little bottom… I lay there, chest heaving from my own exertions, and could feel your erections fade. Looked up, finding Rani sitting up and watching us with a rather bemused expression. I rolled off you, and off your softening cock, and crawled over to her. I hugged her, hard, and planted several kisses on her. She stroked my hair rather tenderly, and we cuddled besides your prostrate form.

You were snoring happily within five minuets! I could accuse you of bad manners, but I supposed that the blame does actually lie with us… ok, with me. I didn't get the chance to tell you how much I love you then, or the momentous decision I had made that night. We all slept much of that day, and our parting was a hurried affair – talk about over sleeping! But during the last week, I have written the letters I needed to, move what few things I wanted to keep to Rani's. While you read this, my family are reading their, rather more circumspect, letters. I will not be seeing them again. My passport is in order, and I have the plane tickets and flight leaves at eleven tonight. All I need now is you.

The End.

Comments appreciated and responded to.