0 comments/ 14970 views/ 0 favorites Rediscovery By: Veronica Dare We needed a weekend away. All to ourselves. I plan all week long and reserve a room at a nearby hotel. I called you at work today, Friday afternoon and leave you voice mail to meet me at the hotel and to come to room 214. You tried to call me back a few times. Leaving me voice mail. I laugh, your voice sounds so strained, so full of panic. I know what you must be thinking. The time arrives for me to leave. I drive to the hotel, check in and start to get very excited. I don't expect you for a while yet, so I run a hot bath with bubbles and undress to relax. A few minutes after I immerse myself into the luxurious warm water, I am pleasantly surprised to hear the door squeak open. I hear you call my name. I am so aroused I can't even answer. But that's okay because you realize where I am. You come in and spot me in the tub, my breasts peeking out of the water which is nice and creamy from my bath bubbles. My hair is pinned up just like you like it, with soft wisplets hanging down around my face and neck. The look in your eyes as you take me in is indescribable. The passion, desire, excitement...all feelings that you usually do not wear on your sleeve. But they are there now, for me to see and I feel good because I want this for you. I want to make you feel good...the way you make me feel. You bend over and kiss me hard spreading my lips, embracing my tongue with your own, making our mouths meet as one. Your kiss is so heavenly. The pure attraction between us could light up a room on the coldest, darkest of nights. You can't wait, you scoop me right out of the tub, dripping wet and lay me on the floor right there in the bathroom. You lay down next to me, up on one elbow, still clothed, just drinking me in, inhaling my scent. You bury your face into my hair, kissing my head with light butterfly kisses all through it. Your hands make their way to my breasts and you stroke them so gently, pulling on my nipples just ever so slightly. I raise my head to kiss you, to touch you and you shake your head and say..."not yet." You stand up, towering over me and rip your shirt off, buttons flying...your pants drop to your ankles with your briefs and you step out of them after removing your shoes and socks. You just stand there for a minute looking down at me and I can see how your manliness has grown, how it is straining to unload and I relax because I realize, we are finally together and it is so good. You take my hand and help me off the floor and guide me out to the bed. Sitting down, you motion for me to sit with you. I try to sit next to you but you pull me on your lap. It excites me to feel my thighs, my ass, bare against your skin. You can tell...you can hear the small little moans escaping from my lips as I push you back against the mattress. I lean over you and kiss you and allow my breasts to softly sway over your chest, then your stomach, as I move down and further down still. You grab my tits and pinch my nipples which is all I need to put me over the edge already. It doesn't stop me though...in fact, it drives me...gives me this unreal power to keep going devouring you as my lips touch your scrotum, then your shaft...slowly, very deliberately tracing that nice large vein up the back. Just as I get to the top of your cock, I see and then taste, the first of many little spots of your precum. It is sooo good, it makes me crave you like nothing I have had before. I find myself with your cock fully lodged in my mouth and I am pulling against your ass wanting more and more. I am trying to tell you to fuck my hungry mouth with that great big cock of yours and you are very accommodating. I can actually feel your balls stiffen against my lips each time they meet them as you thrust in and out of my mouth. I can feel the head of your cock pulsating like a dam ready to burst. I feel like a woman who has been out in the desert for so long with no food or water...I want to gulp your nice, warm, semen. I want to feel that ungodly burst of pressure as you shoot in my mouth, force feeding me my desires. I find myself being laid back on the bed and you over me, smiling, happy...I am so glad. I feel you push my legs apart and enter me with that nice piece of meat that doesn't let up so easily. You are teasing me...playing with my very wet, horny clit with the head of your cock...looking at me...I can read your mind and I ask you real nice..."Please fuck my cunt. Please put that rod of yours straight up my cunt and fill me up." You are so nice to oblige, and you can feel my fine muscles sucking you in and milking you so well. You fuck me nice and slow at first as you gaze into my eyes. I can't look away, I am so mesmerized. So drawn into you. you look away first so you can suck on my breasts, taking the nipples one by one into your mouth, twirling your tongue around and around them. The sensation drives me wild and makes me contract my pussy muscles around your cock so hard, that you just start cumming deep inside my cunt. Moaning with such pleasure, it almost sounds beastly. I am surprised, pleasantly, when you roll me over and rub that spent cock up and down on my pussy lips while my ass is up in the air and I am on my hands and knees. The anticipation is definitely driving me wild, but makes it that much better. You are a true gentleman, asking me very softly, if I want it there. You know I do. I am practically bucking at the ceiling, wanting it. Stop teasing me and spread my ass cheeks and let that baby cum in for a visit. Mmmmmmm. I feel so tight back there. It is hard to imagine that your hard cock is actually all the way in. You are holding real still, savoring the tightness. But, I have a surprise for you! I put 2 fingers into my pussy all the way up and curl them around just right. Your cock can feel them through the thin wall of my ass and vagina. It drives you wild. Your cock can feel them slipping in and out and that extra tightness it causes in my ass, makes you realize that you have entered heaven...or at least your version of it. I am begging you by now..."Please fuck me in the ass...move it in and out faster, deeper...I can take it all." I have never felt so wet before as my juices drip down my milky thighs. You are holding my hips now, thrusting in and out, giving me what I asked for. Making me happy and making you happy. I reach down with my pussy juices still on my hands and grab your balls, gently squeezing them. You instantly cum up my ass. A lot. More than I have had from you yet. I feel soo good. I am radiant with pleasure. I lay back on the bed, you crawl up beside me. I lay my head on your chest with my hair strewn out all over you. You put your arm around me and kiss my forehead, and we drift off to complete relaxation. The dawn wakens us, peeking through the curtain of our room. You are laying behind me and I can feel the stiffness against my back. You reach for the phone and call out of work for the week... Rediscovery and Recovery I'm going to tell you a true story, or at least as true as I can remember it. Let's be honest here and concede that when we're in the middle of something, we don't stop to write down the exact detail, we don't have a voice recorder to capture every aspect of who said what and when. So even in stories like this, we use writing skills and some imagination. As a writer, I've always thought that imagination is borne of experience; sometimes it's our experience, sometimes it's that of others. This is my experience, even if all the words and actions were not mine, and even if the names have been changed (which they most certainly have!). Chapter One: To set the scene My name is John and at 34 years of age, three long years after my first marriage had been declared over, I finally gave up on my so-called 'life' in London. I want to tell you about that transition, and what I discovered. I think it will take several chapters, and since I'm new to this writing thing, even as I tap at my keyboard, I'm not sure how much detail to share. Let's find out, together. To rewind: At 22 I had qualified as a secondary school history teacher; a year later I married Eve, who I had met whilst training, and who, like me had got a job at a school in London. The schools were almost twenty miles apart, but that seemed for the best at the time, because there was next to no chance of professional overlap. For five years we worked like Trojans, sharing a small 2-bed flat in the north of the city and travelling everywhere by public transport. With two meagre salaries in an expensive city, we saved very little. I still think it was right that we spent our spare time, and a fair proportion of our spare money, enjoying the weekends and holidays in each others' company. We ate out each and every Sunday lunchtime; we chose a film or concert one weekend each month; we travelled to major European cities once or twice a year, went skiing once with some other teacher-friends, and even got as far as New York for 5-night long weekend. We were much in love and there are very few twenty-somethings who worry about the medium to long term future, even if they spend some time thinking about it or discussing it. Our plan had been a simple one. Somewhere between the fifth and tenth years of our marriage (that's 28-33 years of age) we would hope to have one or two children. We would almost certainly move away from London, to both a cheaper part of the country and one in which children might have more freedom. We might both continue working, or if economically possible, Eve might take a career break. She was a great geography teacher (correction, still is, I'm sure), and would go back to work, as family circumstance allowed. Then, just as we hit the sixth year of marriage, three things happen (they always come in threes, as you probably know). Firstly, and tragically, Eve's mother, Margaret, died. Death is never ever easy, but Eve's mother was barely 50 years old when diagnosed with pancreatic cancer. From first pain to the end was just 7 months, and though we tried so hard to be 'normal' during that time, the strain was immense. Eve's parents lived in the north of England, a 3-hour journey at the best of times; Eve wanting to visit as often as possible wrecked our weekend habitual patterns of life, and I confess to you, as I did to her much later, I found myself resenting it. It's personally painful for me to recount the second thing which happened, but I must, so please be kind. Awareness of her mother's mortality (and its coinciding with our family plans) triggered a mother instinct in Eve. I guess it was about 3 months after hearing that there was no prospect of recovery for Margaret that Eve announced, almost without consultation, that she had stopped taking oral contraception. I think she would dearly have loved to have told her mother that she was expecting a child, that somehow the prospect of Grandparenthood may have been enough to give Margaret just a few more months of life. I have to say, I was completely happy with that aspect, though less happy that the strain of parenthood would most likely hit at the same time as bereavement. Anyway, it wasn't to be; two months after Margaret's death, and six months of trying to conceive, Eve and I went to check our fertility, only to find that I'm the one with the problem. Though I can produce buckets of semen, there are very few fish in the sea. Eve had been chemically messing around with her hormones for years, but I was the one incapable of parenthood - or not completely incapable, just a less-than-five-percent chance; very long odds. And so within the space of twelve months we had seen a member of the generation before us cut down in her prime and our hopes of natural parenthood dashed. We never ever got round to discussion about adoption or fostering children; I'd hate to think it's true, but it may be that teachers who look after other people's kids for six hours a day want to retain the option of handing them back...... And so to the third thing, and the one which, quite literally, drove us apart. Permanently. Eve decided, again without much consultation, that she wanted to move closer to her father. George was still in perfect health, managing a small local bank branch, and didn't need his daughter closer, but Eve was not to be persuaded. I don't know where her decision came from, and that has always bothered me a little bit, but it was made, and she was never able to explain it fully. She applied for, and got appointed to a teaching job at a school which was not now 20 miles from mine, but 220 miles. And so Eve 'half-moved' up north and declared her intention to wait for me to join her. For another 18 months, we tolerated a long-distance relationship, of the sort which, I'm told, is far more common than we might imagine. I moved to a smaller, cheaper, flat in London, and Eve lived with her father. Each Friday, one of us would make the 3-hour journey to join the other and after our lunch on Sunday, we'd return to our separate week-day lives. We'd spend the school holidays together of course, but it was a pretty miserable and lonely life. Perhaps it's because teaching can be such a tiring profession, but the evening phone conversations became shorter and of less interest, and far too much of the weekends were spent talking about what we'd been doing on our own, when marriage is something you're supposed to experience together. Eventually, and with no malice, we both came to the view that enough was enough. It took another year for a divorce proper to be agreed and sorted out, by which time I know that Eve had met someone else. Me? I was now almost 31 years old, not unattractive, and free to be anonymous in one of the biggest cities in the world. I had short, always passionate relationships with other young and single teachers in my area, and once, a weekend with a woman who threw herself on me one Friday night. I holidayed alone (Amsterdam is a different city without your wife on your arm!!) and if I travelled anywhere at a weekend, it was to see my parents in the West Country. I had my job, was good at it, and wondered whether this would now be my lot in life.