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Remember Me

By: ABSTRUSE



 I wish to thank my evil twin vella for taking the time to edit for me. This is my first try at Romance, be gentle with me.  

*

It was another rainy day, the third one in a row to be exact. I decided to brave the downpour and go to the little coffee shop next door for my daily dose of courage. On my way back to the gallery a young man who decided to do an impromptu dance sidetracked me. He was singing while he swayed from side to side and then hopped over a fire hydrant. His female companion tried to stifle a giggle. She hid her embarrassment by covering her face with her hands until he broke away from his Gene Kelly impersonation and grabbed her about the waist. Oblivious of the rain and onlookers they waltzed down the street out of sight leaving the echoes of their laughter behind.

I was still standing there with my hand on the door handle when Lucia, my assistant, opened the door.

"Bella, come inside you're soaked to the skin." She pulled me inside and started to help me peel off my jacket. "What are you staring at so intently?"

"Just a scene from an old memory," I smiled and handed her a cup. "Here's your tea."

She took the cup and my dripping jacket eyeing me suspiciously. "Dare I ask?"

"Nothing to ask about, just a memory from long ago I had buried away and forgotten about."

Lucia walked over to her desk after hanging my jacket, placed her cup down and started to shuffle through the plethora of papers scattered in a controlled chaos. "Here are your messages, a letter from your sister in Italy, a few invitations to some openings...here's the folder you wanted and I've unpacked and set the paintings for the new show against the wall. I figured you would want to sort them yourself."

My dear Lucia, what would I do without her? Her attention for detail was mere compensation for having to put up with my moods. It was her attention to my mental stability and anal retentiveness that made her my personal saint.

I went back to my office and sifted through my messages as I sipped my coffee. No one I really wanted to talk to right now. I flipped through the file on the latest feature artist, a young woman from a small town, very talented and showing much promise. It had a ring of familiarity to it and again the past leeched into my brain. I closed the file and picked up the letter from my sister. The postmark was from Tuscany. My fingers traced along the stamp and I was transported back to a week I spent there almost twenty years ago.

These strolls down memory lane were beginning to be too much; I couldn't concentrate on my work. Tucking the letter in my purse I then turned off my desk lamp and went to find Lucia. She was unpacking some sculptures in the back room.

I poked my head in the door. "Lucia, I'm taking the rest of the day off, can you handle things here?"

She looked at me over her reading glasses and frowned. "Sure. Everything okay?"

"Yea everything is fine. I just need some time alone."

"I'll call you if anything comes up but if not enjoy your time alone." She winked.

"Get your mind out of the gutter it's not that kind of time alone. Ciao Lucia." I said and then left her alone with her work.

I got back to my apartment without drowning. My cat Max looked confused to see me here during the day. I felt like I was intruding on him. A tickle under his chin remedied any concerns he may have had and he went back to his reign over the sofa.

I dropped my keys on the kitchen table, hung my coat over the chair and started the coffee maker. I would need coffee for this. Heading into the bedroom I opened the closet door and dug deep through the bottom until I found it. An old shoebox wound with so much string even Houdini couldn't break free if he was inside. I couldn't remember if I was trying to keep what was inside from getting out or from me getting back inside of it.

I placed the box on my bed and changed into dry warm clothes. It sat there beckoning to me and I could hear her voice calling my name. I picked up the box and went back into the kitchen for my coffee and to face my past again. I rummaged through my junk drawer until I found scissors to cut the string.

I decided to overthrow Max from his sofa kingdom and took a sip of coffee to calm my nerves while I opened the lid. Immediately, I smelled her perfume as it wafted up freely and encircled me. I closed my eyes and remembered how my pillows would smell of it when she wasn't there and how it made me desire to once again kiss her neck.

My hands began to tremble as I picked up the stack of letters written so long ago. I loved the way she wrote my name, Gianna Marsilli in big sweeping letters, her own calligraphy. She shortened it to Gia like my grandmother used to do and I loved it. She hated her own name, she felt Mary Jo was so small town and dull so I called her Zola, which was earthy and more exotic. When I first saw her, I thought that she was like no one I had met before not even in this city.

I found out about her paintings from a friend of a friend who knew her and her family. I inquired about a sample piece and when I did see her work, knew I had to feature her . We only had contact through letters and phone calls and while she sounded charming, I expected a shy naïve girl in a sundress and straw hat. I didn't meet her until the night of her show.

She was late for her own show and I was pissed. Here was my "Meet the Artist" reception and no artist. I was talking to a perspective buyer when Lucia told me that Mary Jo had arrived. I excused myself to my buyer and followed Lucia to meet this woman and tear into her for making me look bad. There I was, ready to give her a verbal assault the likes of which she had never heard but I stopped dead. She was standing there with a glass of wine in one hand and a cigarette in the other. Lucia was there before me and pointed in my direction. I watched as she gave me a side-glance and took a long slow drag from her cigarette. Her eyes never left mine, her fingers held the cigarette between her deep red lips and she slowly exhaled. Her mouth was a perfect O as the smoke floated from her lips. I stood there glued to the spot.

She was dressed in a tailored suit and slacks, navy pinstripe accented by a white shirt, the top few buttons were undone and her hair was slicked back into a bob. She wore no other make up other than the lipstick, she didn't need to. She took her glass of wine in her other hand and reached out to take mine. Her hand was warm and mine seemed suddenly chilled.

"Gianna, it's lovely to finally meet you face to face." Her smile was warm and genuine.

"Yes, it's nice to meet you too." I was suddenly an idiot. Me, the woman who feared nothing and no one was standing there like a high school girl stammering as if the captain of the football team was asking her out.

"I like your gallery and the way you presented my humble little paintings." 

"I would hardly call them humble, I would say more fresh and innovative. I like to feature the works of women that define and appreciate the female form." I said then wondering what the hell I really meant by that and how she would interpret that remark.  

"I have a great fondness for the female form." She said with a wink. Before we could go further into our conversation a few guests came by to meet her and we didn't speak again until the end of the evening. I found myself seeking her out and every time I looked for her she would be looking at me with a smile. I thought it was crazy that she would look at me so familiarly but there was something about her that drew me closer.

The show went great and as the evening ended it was only Mary Jo, Lucia and I left. Lucia started to clean up and I told her to just go home, it could wait until morning she had done too much already. She bid us goodnight and left.

"I should be on my way too. I want to thank you for giving my art some dignity and for taking a chance on an unknown coal town gal."

"You artists are all alike. You critique yourselves too harshly. I just hung them up to make them easier to see the dignity is in the paintings themselves and in the heart of the artist. You have no idea how good you really are, do you?"

"I don't see myself as good or bad. I merely paint what my passions and moods dictate. I put what is inside of me on the canvas."

"You have a lot of inner turmoil don't you?" I blurted. How stupid was I? "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said that."

She lifted the one corner of her mouth and looked away. "You're very perceptive."

This was awkward and I decided to try to regain some sense of decorum. "Hey, I don't' know about you but I could use something to eat and a good cup of coffee. I know a great little place that's open late; would you care to keep me company?"

"I would love to." She smiled widely and I hurried to close up the gallery.

We went to an all night diner, one of those little out of the way greasy spoons that had waitresses with names like Bertha and Vera who called everyone "Hun" and stuck their pens in their upswept hair. It was in the day when you could still smoke at your table and no one rushed you out the door.

We talked easily for hours over club sandwiches, pie and endless cups of coffee. I learned about her family, her town, how she became a painter and how she suffered from severe bouts with depression. Painting, she said, was the only way to release all the emotions and desires she had within her. "I live vicariously through my subjects." She laughed but I could see deep into her gorgeous blue eyes that it was the truth. I wanted to slide over next to her and hold her tightly soothing her and making everything better but I could only reach across the table and take her hand in mine. She didn't move her hand but instead clasped her other hand over mine.

"I've been hogging the conversation, tell me about you. How did you come to have this wonderful gallery?"

I never thought it I was that interesting myself, but telling her seemed so different. She was seriously interested and seemed to hang on my every word. I told her how my family came over from Italy when I was a little girl and how we settled in the city. My parents opened a small ristorante where my sister and brothers helped out.

I told her about how I met my first real boyfriend and how we broke up because my parents didn't like him; he wasn't Italian, which was a big no-no. He went to a different college and it wasn't until after we both graduated that we met up again. We reconnected and eventually became lovers of art and of each other. It's how we came to start the gallery, through our love of art and wanting to have somewhere to showcase up and coming artists.

It wasn't long after that I had found him giving an art major some 'private' lessons. I eventually convinced him to sign over his half of the 

Gallery. It was difficult at first, not many wanted to deal with a woman alone but I persevered and became successful. Lucia had started for me as an intern and would eventually become my right hand.

"It doesn't surprise me that you've made a success of your business. Having dealt with you I can see how dedicated you are." She said.

"Dealt with me, huh? I'll take that as a compliment." I laughed.

"It was your accent. I had no idea what you were saying so I just agreed to everything." She winked and then lit a cigarette.

"I didn't realize I was so unintelligible?"

"I'm teasing. You speak perfect English for a foreigner."

"Your sense of humor is as unconventional as your artwork."

"I've been called a lot of things before but I like unconventional best." She laughed. "So what part of Italy are you from, I can't trace your accent?"

"Tuscany. I still have family there; my uncle owns a small vineyard."

"It must be lovely. I've always wanted to go to Italy." She sighed.

"Then I will have to take you there someday." I blurted. I don't know why I said it but something really did want me to take her there away from her own life.

She sat back and looked at me for a moment. Her eyes seemed almost pleading and then she smiled slightly. "I may just hold you to that."

I miss her face. 

I shuffled through the box to find a picture. Fond memories assaulted me instantly when I found my favorite picture of her, taken on that week in Tuscany. Again, I was lost to reverie...bittersweet memories.

We stayed at my uncle's villa while he was on business in Roma. It was set on a hillside overlooking the vineyards and pastures.

Our morning ritual was to have coffee out on the small patio warming ourselves in the early morning sun and taking in the beautiful scenery that surrounded us.

Mary Jo woke early one particular day, deciding to let me sleep in while she made the coffee. While it was brewing she went outside to have a cigarette. I woke up early out of habit and found her sitting out on the wall. She was still dressed in her oversized nightshirt with her sleeves rolled up and her feet bare. Her hair was naturally curly and tousled and the slight breeze would lift the curls like unseen fingers. She had her knees drawn up to her chest, one arm wrapped around them while the other hung out, her cigarette dangling between her long fingers. It was the look on her face that compelled me to grab my ever-present camera. She had such a peaceful look one that I had never seen before and would never see again.

The click of the shutter broke the spell and I was regretting that I had disturbed the moment. I just leaned against the doorway and smiled.

She looked over at me and raised one eyebrow. "Am I going to have to hide that camera from you?"

"The view was too beautiful to not capture for posterity."

She smiled and held out her hand beckoning me to her. I put the camera down and she flicked away her cigarette so she could wrap both arms around my waist. I wrapped my arms around her shoulders and kissed the top of her head.

"Buona Mattina il mio Zola."

She kissed the space between my breasts, "Good morning to you, my love." She purred and rested her head against my chest. "I can hear your heart beating."

"It beats for you, my love." I lifted her chin and kissed her. I could taste the cigarette she had just finished mixed with the slight mint of toothpaste. I miss that taste.  The slight smell of her perfume mingled with sleep melded with the earthy smells of newly tilled soil carried on the gentle breeze. I miss that smell.

I closed my eyes and let the tears fall landing in a soft thud on the glass of the frame. It was time for me to heal this wound that I left opened all these years. I had avoided these memories for too long, unable to bear the pain. She was gone and she wasn't coming back, that much I knew but I could never fully release myself from her.

I went back to looking through the box reading old letters and looking at all the pictures of times and places we spent together. Seeing her smile again warmed my heart. I looked at old greeting cards and postcards remembering the private jokes we shared. I kept ticket stubs and playbills from every movie, concert, museum and play we had seen together. It almost felt silly keeping these little bits of paper that had meaning to me only but they were pieces of my life.

My coffee was lukewarm like my life now. The spontaneity was replaced by random bits of order that eventually grew over me like vines. I was anchored in a safe place and buried myself in my work. She would be so pissed off at me right now. She hated any form of routine saying it made her feel stagnant.

The second time I met her was when she came to the gallery on a whim. I was surprised but pleased to see her.

"Mary Jo what are you doing here?" I asked as I hugged her hello.

"Let's go to Central Park. It's a beautiful day, too beautiful to sit inside and shuffle through papers and boxes."

"Hold on, you drove all this way to go to the park?" I was floored.

"Yes I did since last time I was here we didn't get to go and I want to go now."

She was right about that, the last time she was here after we left the diner she went back to her hotel and I went home. I told her the next time she came to the city we would go wherever she wanted to go. I just didn't expect her to show up out of the blue but that's the way she was, impetuous. The funny thing about it was that she was rubbing off on me and at times we were like giggling schoolgirls. She challenged me to look for all the delights that life had to offer no matter how big or how small.

We spent a wonderful day in the park just walking and talking. It had been so long since I had last been there and being with her made me recall the days when I was younger and would visit there with my family. We went the zoo and watched the children take in the delights of the animals there. She told me about her niece Rosalie whom she adored.

"If I were to have a daughter she would be just like Rosie. I don't foresee children in my future so I give what I can to her, not just gifts but what I've learned. She's brilliant Gia, not school wise but in her way of seeing the world. One day she's going to be a writer and a great one at that. I'll have to bring her here to meet you and see this wonderful city. I don't want her to stagnate in that town becoming a wife and a mother without sampling the world and what it has to offer."

"I wish I had an aunt like you when I was growing up." I laughed. "I bet she thinks the world of you."

"I think the world of her. I want her to be happy but I fear that is something she's inherited from me." She quickly added, "Along with my sense of humor and appetite. I'm hungry, how about you?"

Avoiding subjects or disguising them in something humorous was her way of dealing with things. It upset me at first but then I came to know it was her nature and when she was ready to let me in she would tell me what was on her mind. I decided not to press the issue and suggested we go to my family's restaurant, my treat being that she gave me a wonderful afternoon.

We took a cab to Little Italy and went into the ristorante. My family took to her immediately and my mother insisted she have a second helping of her homemade lasagna. Mama felt she was too thin but Mama thought everyone was too thin and made it her life mission to feed the world one customer at a time.

We had a few glasses of wine and I told her stories of life in an Italian family and working in the family business. My father taught her a few words in Italian, mainly to have an excuse to flirt with her.

It was getting late and I insisted she should come and spend the night at my apartment. I didn't want her to have that long drive back alone in the dark. She politely declined but when my mother insisted and bribed her with some pastries to take home with us she relented.

My apartment wasn't too far away. I couldn't imagine leaving the neighborhood plus the rent was cheaper and my mother's cooking was always close by when I didn't feel like cooking for myself. When we finally arrived at my place, I poured us a glass of wine and we sat down on the couch.

"You spend a lot of time at work don't you?" she asked

"What makes you say that?"

"Your apartment isn't lived in. you haven't surrounded yourself with things that make it a living space." She tucked her feet up under her glancing around. "For a gallery owner not to have art on her walls and the only statuary to be religious icons isn't conducive to expanding your creative spirit."

I looked around and noticed she was right. "I guess you maybe right. I don't dare move the statue of the Blessed Virgin because my mother put it there and before you say a word, yes. I am afraid of my mother even at this age. Plus it isn't worth arguing over."

"The scourge of growing up Catholic; I know it well." She laughed. "We are first destined to be brides of Christ and then brides of lesser men. Giving our virginal selves over, and then dedicating our lives to our mates and family with shiny happy faces and clean floors. Bullshit."


Remember Me



"You mean you don't want the house with the white picket fence, the faithful dog and the station wagon?" I teased. "Oh my God, you're one of those bra burning women aren't you?"

"I would never waste a good bra in a fire to prove I'm a woman of conviction. I never really got that whole thing. I mean I understand women wanting to feel more liberated but are we really defined by our breasts alone? I would assume our shackles of imprisonment would be lower and in the form of a chastity belt. We should be burning our panties instead. It is after all a sexual revolution."

"You may be on to something there. You should put it in a painting." I sipped my wine and looked at her. "You are very sure of who you are and what you want, aren't you?"

She leaned back against the couch and thought for a moment. "I'm not really sure who I am., I doubt many people do. But I do know I feel limited in what I can or can't do. When I was a child I didn't want to grow up to be a mother or a nurse or a teacher. I wanted to be a pirate and sail the seas plundering riches. When I got a little older I read a book on DaVinci and began to explore the world of art. That made sense to me. It gave me a chance to explore myself and I saw the world in a new light. I became a voracious reader gathering as much information as I could about the world."

"And what did you learn?"

"That I have limitations. I guess I'm a mere mortal after all."

"I think we all have limitations it's just finding what is within us to push past the boundaries. I learned that when I decided to take on running the gallery alone." I finished my wine and set down the glass next to her untouched one. "You, however, are braver than I. You are unprompted and know what you want."

"I think you mean I'm impatient and headstrong. I like to seize the moment." Then she leaned over placing her hand behind my head and pulled me in for a kiss. I was taken aback and almost resisted but her lips were so soft and warm that I found myself giving into her advances.

When we finally broke off the kiss I looked into her eyes. "I think I'm going to have to learn more about seizing the moment."

I had taken a few lovers before then, men and women, but Mary Jo was different. She was giving and passionate. I would often find little notes around my apartment or in my jacket pocket and purse. Around every corner was a surprise when I was with her. Flowers would be delivered to the gallery; cards and letters would be waiting in my mailbox when I got home from work. Candlelit dinners, picnics in the country and slow dances in the living room were common faire for us.

I spent time with her at her home meeting family and watching her paint while I read to her. We had times where we argued over small things or current events or art. I got used to the times when her depression would come over her and she would become secluded. I hated watching her go through these times, trying new doctors and new medications. She struggled with her inner demons and I learned how to deal with these episodes even though it was painful to be apart from her.

I tried to get her to move in with me but she needed to be with her family. We accepted our relationship was not the norm and people, especially family, would not understand. Things were different back then, we both came from Old World families with Old World thoughts and values. It was assumed we were just best friends.

I found out a few years ago when my mother was dying that she knew about Mary Jo and me. I would stay with her in the afternoons to take care of her while my father and siblings ran the restaurant. I'll never forget the conversation we had one day:

"I knew what was going on. I didn't understand it but I knew, a mother always knows." She said.

"I'm sorry Mama. I should have told you but I didn't want you to be disappointed in me."

"Bambina, you are my joy and to see a love so deep is all a mother wants for her child but you know you could never have married her."

"I know Mama because she was a woman."

"No you silly girl...because she wasn't Italian." She laughed and took my hand. "I am not to say what is wrong or right in this world, only the Father in Heaven (she pointed to the ceiling) can say that but I do know that 'un amore potente' a powerful love, (She pressed my hand over her heart) that is special no matter what." 

I ferreted through the box some more and found the last Valentine card from her. She had made it herself and wrote the verse inside as well. That last Valentine's Day we spent together was the most memorable of all.

She left instructions for me to take off early from work and to dress for a formal dinner. I was to be ready by 6, no later. The butterflies in my stomach were in rare form I was so excited. I wrapped her gift; a silver and lapis ring that she remarked about a few weeks ago while we were on a shopping spree.

At a quarter of six there was a knock on the door. I opened it to find her in tuxedo tails with a bottle of champagne and a dozen red roses.

"Happy Valentine's Day lover!" she shouted and came inside handing me the flowers and kissing my hand. "You look incredible."

I had chosen a simple black dress low cut in the front and back with just a strand of pearls. I labored over my hair pulling it up into a French twist and made sure my make up was flawless.

"Why, thank you." I blushed. "You look very handsome yourself. Let me put the flowers in water."

"I'll chill the champagne for later." She said as she lightly pinched my ass. "Did I mention that you look incredible?"

I found a vase and arranged the flowers taking one out to pin on her lapel. "Yes you did but I don't mind hearing it again." I found a pin and she held onto my waist as I pinned the flower to her chest. She started to kiss my neck. "If you don't stop I might stick you with this pin."

"I would gladly bleed for you, love." She whispered against my ear and then she kissed my mouth. Her tongue parted my lips searching for mine and then sucking it into her own mouth. I suddenly didn't care about dinner anymore. I was unhappy to have her break off the kiss but I knew there would be more tonight.

"I think we should go now." She smiled. I made her stand still a moment while I reached into my purse for a tissue and wiped the lipstick off of her mouth. "Now we can go." I winked. She helped me into my coat and we left.

Mary Jo had set things up to have dinner at my parent's ristorante. She told them since neither of us had a date for Valentine's Day she would play the part. My parents adored her and if she told them that the sky was green and the grass was blue they would believe her. The only person other than Lucia that knew about us was my sister Magda and Mags would never tell a soul. She even helped Mary Jo plan the evening.

We had a small table with candlelight and a bottle of wine waiting for us. My father pulled out my chair for me, and then pulling on the bottom of his jacket to straighten it played along as the perfect host.

"Buona sera. Welcome. I am Giancarlos the owner of this fine establishment. Tonight I have a special dish in honor of this 'giorno di amore'. A beautiful pasta and seafood dish, homemade angel hair pasta with seafood so fresh it pinched my wife." My father was so corny if not charming. He opened the wine and poured some for Mary Jo to sample.

She swirled the glass and sniffed before sipping and exclaiming "Excellente!" he then poured our glasses full and went off to get our appetizers and salads.

"How did you get them to go along with this?" I asked.

"I told them I was going to ask you to marry me." She grinned.

I felt the blood drain from my face. "You did not, did you?" She began to laugh and I knew then she was kidding. We talked and laughed over dinner while my family catered to us as if we were complete strangers that needed to be impressed. Over coffee and dessert I gave her the ring.

"Gia, you shouldn't have." She said as she unwrapped the box. "This is the ring I was looking at, oh Gia, my Gia. Ti amo" She kissed my hand and held it to her cheek. "You are my world."

"Ti amo my Zola. I knew how much you loved it and right then and there I knew I had to get it for you." I wiped a small tear off of her cheek with my thumb. "You have made me so happy."

She reached into her pocket and pulled out a long white box tied in a simple red ribbon and gave it to me to open. Inside was a gold chain with two interlocked hearts, in the center was a ruby.

"Do you like it?" she asked as I sat there with my mouth open.

"Like it? I love it. Please put it on me?"

She came around to my side of the table and hooked the necklace around my neck.

"Now it's even more beautiful." She said.

"I think I would like to go home now." I grinned.

"As you wish." She said holding out her arm for me. 

We bid my parents good night and thanked them not leaving, of course, without my mother making sure we had dessert to take with us. Outside it had started to snow. The streets already had been blanketed in white illuminated by a few streetlights. Only a handful of people were out walking at that time.

"Oh no, they didn't say it was going to snow tonight." I groaned. 

"Don't sound so down. Think of it as a gift just for us, a magical gift of pure love." She said as she spun around with her arms outstretched.

"A magical gift we have to trudge home through."

"Silly girl, who said we were going to walk home?" She grabbed me around the waist with one arm and held my hand with the other. "We are going to dance home. I'll lead."

She spun me around and we began to waltz down the middle of the snow-covered streets, her tuxedo tails flying in the air behind her as she sang "When I Dance with you, I get ideas" in her best Peggy Lee impression.

"Your eyes are always saying...the things you're never saying...I only hope they're saying...that you could love me too..." she sang. "For that's the whole idea, its true the lovely idea that..." and she dipped me." I'm falling in love with you." And then she kissed me so sweetly.

Max looked over at me as I sang the song softly to myself and then stretched his legs and jumped down from the couch.

"Hey cat, my singing is not that bad." I sighed. I picked up the last letter I received from her just after she was sent to a hospital in Arizona.

Gia my Love,

I'm here in the middle of the Arizona desert but my heart is there with you. They think they can help me but how does one fix a broken mind?

All the pills and therapy in the world can't tell me that it's wrong to be who I am and to love whom I love.

I know in my heart that there is only you...but we know now that it can never be.

Too many outside factors, too many barriers, too many people pulling me in all directions, make it impossible

I wish I could take you away somewhere far away where no one knows us and no one cares about us.

They talk of shocking my brain to make me 'normal'. What is normal by their definition? When is it not normal to love someone?

I know that you are the only person I can ever and will ever love...and when I die I will find you again and no one will obliterate the love we share, no one will tarnish it and defile it and reduce it to mere words. We are beyond that, joined by our souls forever.

I love you Gia.

Your Zola. 

A few months later I was in the gallery when her niece Rosalie came in to see me. She told me that Mary Jo had passed away.

"I thought this is something you should hear in person." She started to say, "I know all about you and Aunt Mary Jo. She and I told each other everything. I know she would want me to tell you myself and not read it in a newspaper or letter." She began to cry.

I took her into my office where we sat on a small chaise and I hugged her to me.

"Its okay honey let it go."

"I'm sorry Gia, I just miss her so very much." She took out a tissue and wiped her eyes. "I wanted you to know that she didn't kill herself. She just gave up and willed it to happen. I know others may think that sounds strange but you knew her as well as I. Mary Jo was a fighter but the war was too much for her, not just in the family but inside her head. She suffered so much when she was down."

"I understand Rosalie. And I am so grateful that you came all this way to tell me yourself." I said through my tears, "I loved your aunt very, very much."

"I know you did, I could see it when you two were together." She reached into her purse and pulled out a small red velvet bag. "She left this for me but it belongs to you."

Inside the bag was the silver and Lapis ring I gave her that Valentine's Day. I put it away unable to ever look at it again. How stupid of me to try and bury her memory. I would never get over her being gone unless I faced that she was truly a part of me, the best part of me.

I went into my bedroom and pulled out the bottom drawer of my jewelry box. Tucked into the corner was the velvet bag. Opening the drawstring I let the ring fall into my hand. As I slipped it on my finger I could feel her energy and I felt complete.



Remember Me



I had just finished listening to a friend's band play at the local music festival and was making my way through the crowds back to my truck. From the crowd I hear someone calling my name. As I looked around I spotted a nice looking brunette waving trying to get my attention.

"Remember me? It's Jessica. Brian's sister."

Brian was an old friend from high school that I hadn't seen since graduation. 

"Wow. I haven't seen you since Brian and I graduated. You were just 8."

She sure had filled out nicely over the last 12 years. After chatting for a bit and catching up on what she, her brother, and I had all been up to over the last decade, she told me that she had an apartment just down the road and and invited me back to grab a sandwich and do some more catching up.

She told me that Brian was living in Texas now, was married with 3 kids, and that she had just broken up with her boyfriend of 3 years.

"I'm sorry to hear that" I said trying to offer some consolation.

"I'm not. I grew up and he didn't"

"Well, it's his loss."

"I definitely didn't loose much. He thought he was God's gift to women. He couldn't even last more than a couple of minutes in bed."

I couldn't help but laugh.

"I'm sorry. That was probably too much information."

"It's OK. If it helps you to talk about it then go ahead. Although, I have to admit it is a little strange hearing someone who I still remember as an 8 year old girl talking about her sex life."

Talking to Jessica about her sex life, or lack thereof had my mind wandering--wondering what this now sexy young woman would be like in bed. I felt my cock began to twitch.

"Do you have anything else to drink?" I asked.

"Sure."

As she went to the fridge to grab me another drink I couldn't help but take in her beauty. She had filled out nicely. She was now about 5'7, 135 lbs, with dark brown hair just past her shoulders. She had nice tan legs that were shown off nicely by the cotton shorts she was wearing. Her breasts were about a large b cup if I had to guess. They too were shown off nicely in the plain white t-shirt she wore.

I really didn't need another drink. I was buying time so I could adjust the hard-on our conversation concerning her sex life had given me.

"Here you go" she said handing me my drink.

"Thanks."

Instead of sitting in the chair across from me where she was sitting before, she sat on the sofa next to me.

"Can I ask you something?" she inquired

"Sure."

"Do you usually sit around with a boner?"

"Huh?"

"I saw you adjusting yourself when I was getting your drink. And it's hard to hide a boner in jeans."

I had been busted.

"Sorry. But, you're a nice looking woman now. And having a nice looking woman talking about sex just has that affect on a guy."

"It's actually kind of flattering. I thought you'd probably still see me as a little kid."

"You're definitely not a kid anymore."

"I certainly hope you wouldn't be sitting here with a boner if I were a kid."

"Hey now."

She laughed.

After she finished laughing she continued our friendly banter. "I'm impressed."

"With what?"

"You've been sitting there with that hard-on for about 10 minutes. I think my ex would've came in his pants by now."

"Glad I'm not him."

"I'm glad you're not him too."

There was a bit of an awkward silence before she asked, "Does it hurt?"

"No. If it hurt to have an erection men wouldn't want sex."

"No. I meant does it hurt to have a boner in jeans? It looks like it would hurt. It's trying to get out and the jeans are trying to hold it in."

"Well it is a bit uncomfortable. Generally you want to be naked when you've got a hard on. But, I don't think you want me to just whip it out right here."

"I bet you wouldn't do it even if I said yes."

"Want to bet on that?"

"I bet you won't"

I began to unzip and unbutton my jeans.

"You're bluffing" she said.

I let my jeans drop to the floor.

"You want take off your boxers"

I smiled as I pushed my boxers to the floor.

"Oh my God. I can't believe you just did that."

"You dared me."

"I didn't think you'd do it."

"Be careful what you ask for"

"Wow" she said as she looked at my fully erect cock. 

"Now, it's your turn."

"What?"

"It's your turn. You've seen mine. Now show me yours."

"I don't know" she said then after thinking for a moment added, "I'll flash my tits but that's it"

"Go for it"

As she freed her perky tits I couldn't help but comment, "Wow those are beautiful."

"Thanks"

"You're welcome. Can I touch them"

"I don't know...I mean...I guess"

As I reached out and lightly squeezed her now exposed breasts I decided to take a chance. I began to slowly rub and twist her nipples. They grew hard at my touch. She wasn't stopping me so I continued to massage her tits. I heard a soft moan from her lips as I noticed her eyes close. I leaned down and began to gently lick her nipples.

"Mmmm. That feels good"

I led her over to the sofa. Laying her on the sofa I kissed her neck and breasts, alternating back and forth. I began to kiss my way down her body. As my lips reached her stomach I felt her breathing quicken. I reached my hands inside the waist band of her shorts. Getting no resistance, I pulled them slowly over her hips, down her legs, and tossed them aside. I began to kiss her knees and then kissed my way up her legs. Stopping at her inner thighs, I noticed her legs spread a little further apart, inviting me to go further. I reached up and pulled her panties down, tossing them into the floor with her shorts. I also reached up and removed my shirt, tossing it aside as well.

I then began once again to kiss her inner thighs. Looking up, I noticed her eyes were closed and her head was tilted back. I then gently licked her cleanly shaven pussy for the first time. She flinched at the first touch. I continued gently licking and sucking her outer lips. Then I ever so lightly flicked her clit with my tongue. Her moans told me that she was enjoying my efforts. Continuing my oral attentions to her clit, I slid a couple of fingers inside her and began to finger her. She was wet with anticipation. I began to massage her g-spot, all the while still licking and sucking her now swollen clitoris.

After only a few minutes her breathing quickened and she began to buck wildly with the spasms of her first orgasm. Her juices drenched my tongue. I paused for just a moment to give her time to come back down. Then I began to lick and finger her pussy again. It wasn't long before she began to start bucking again, experiencing her second orgasm.

"Oh God, hold on. I'm getting too sensitive" she said.

Motioning for me to sit down, she got on her knees in front of me and began to lick my cock and balls.

"MMmmmm" I moaned.

All of a sudden I felt her mouth engulf my cock. I almost came right then and there but held on.

She began to bob up and down on my cock, taking it out of her mouth occasionally to lick the shaft and balls. 

After a while I couldn't hold it anymore. "I'm gonna cum" I warned her.

She kept sucking. I felt my balls tighten as I erupted into her mouth. I came more than I had in a long time--so much that she couldn't keep it all in her mouth, letting some drip down her chin, down my cock and onto my balls.

She swallowed and smiled, looked up at me and said, "That's the first time anyone has gone down on me."

"Glad I could be your first."

We then showered together and cleaned off. I really wanted to be inside of her but I didn't have any condoms and she was not on birth control. After chatting some more, we exchanged phone numbers and agreed to keep in touch. . .



Remember Me



I got the call late one Sunday evening, and the last thing I ever expected was her bouncing voice to come flying over the line at my ears. "Remember me?" She didn't wait for my answer. "It's Cora. I used to live three houses down the street from you." 

Remember her? It wasn't like I could forget. How could I ever forget one of those pivotal people in my childhood? And, as far as sexual awakening goes, Cora was the overriding figure of my teenage years. 

The years washed away faster than my mind could keep up with as images of her invaded my consciousness and matched with her voice. She was the first girl I ever had a crush on. We hung out a lot back in those days, on the same block of our suburban home town. Cora had shoulder-length jet black hair, the clearest, dusky, skin known to mankind, and a body well-enough developed to have me tongue-tied every time we found ourselves alone. For almost fifteen years now, every time I came across a childhood photograph with both of us in it, I am thrown again by her beauty and the vivacious smile she seemed to display constantly. 

We never actually dated, probably more because I never summoned up the courage to ask her, but there was always the feeling that we had a little "special" bond. Well, at least that was how I felt about her. 

"O... of course I remember," I almost stammered back down the phone. Some people just have that effect on you. "I can barely believe... after all this time." 

"Yeah, I know." Cora giggled; a familiar and comforting sound. "I get dragged off to Montana by my parents, and then I turn up again out of the blue. Who'd ever have figured that?" 

I remembered the day that she left. Her father had been transferred and the darkness of my losing Cora far outweighed the brightness of the smile she gave me from the rear window of their departing car. Despite the previous closeness of our families before that, it was the last time I ever saw Cora or heard from her until that night. 

She had tracked down my sister, who'd given her my number. Cora was catching up with some friends from her childhood, something that kind of jabbed at me when she told me, as I guess I'd secretly hoped she had specifically tracked me down. 

As usual, whenever I was reminded of Cora, my mind went back to the night of "our dance." It was at her family's New Year's Eve party, and we were dancing happily together. When a slow song started playing, I was about to sit down when Cora grabbed my arms and pulled me close to her. Snuggling into her shoulder, smelling her hair and feeling her body, the curve of her breasts, against mine was unforgettable. Of course, the inevitable happened and I became very aroused. At first I tried to hide the bulge and keep it from touching her, but as I brushed against her a couple of times my confidence grew and I nestled back against her, my erection pressing against the side of her body as we danced to a long forgotten ballad. It was not a moment that was about the song! 

When the music stopped, we slowly broke from our embrace and I sheepishly looked up at her. "That was nice," she smiled and held my hand until we flopped down next to each other on a sofa. 

Nothing else happened that night, or for the remainder of the time Cora lived close to us. Never a word was exchanged between us about the slow dance, or the erection, or whether she noticed anything (although it was hard to imagine she hadn't). That never stopped me thinking about what might have been, or wondering where she was now, or if she remembered anything about that night. 

"I moved back to town," she told me excitedly. "A couple of months ago actually, but I've not had chance to catch up with anyone yet." 

While we chatted I learned that she was divorced, consumed by work mostly and living in an apartment not far from where we grew up. I laughed at the similarity of our situations after all this time, we talked about my sister and other kids we hung out with, exchanged numbers and emails, and then she was gone again. 

We swapped infrequent emails over the next few months, mainly because Cora always seemed to be busy, but at least we managed to stay in touch. There was nothing in those emails that ever gave me cause to think that she might have any romantic leanings towards me or that she even remembered our dance together. On the flip side of that, she never mentioned any man in her life, so I continued to see a glimmer of hope that she just might want to pick up where we never started. 

She'd mentioned in one message that she was looking for a bigger apartment but the invitation to her housewarming party was the first I knew she'd moved. It wasn't a personal invitation, the list was huge, but there was no way I was going to pass on meeting up with Cora after all this time. 

***

Cora hadn't changed much, at least not in my eyes. Sure, her hair was shorter and there were maybe a couple of lines around her eyes that she didn't want, but it was the same smiling face and body full of promise that opened the door. She greeted me with a warm hug and ushered me in to join the crowd that was already there. 

I knew several of the people crowded into the apartment, mostly old friends that I'd managed to stay in touch with, but there were a few I hadn't seen in a while. The evening was fun, but I was really there to see Cora, who was constantly busy mingling with her guests and showing them around her new abode. Just like I had done all those years before, I watched her every move and quietly wanted her. 

As the clock moved on and people started to leave I caught her in the kitchen and mentioned that I was also thinking of leaving. "Don't you dare leave yet," she scolded playfully, "I want to catch up with you. We haven't talked all night." 

So, I sat and chatted some more, watched her flit around the apartment and was glad to eventually see a steady stream of leavers. There were only four or five guests left when Cora finally walked over and sat beside me. She was wearing a low-cut, tight, black dress that showed every gorgeous curve of her body. She sat close enough that our thighs rubbed against each other and before she spoke, she leaned forward, undid the fasteners on her shoes and kicked them off. 

"Well, this has been fun, but I'm tired now." She leaned back in the sofa, her head inclined towards me as our shoulders brushed. 

"Yes, it was fun. It's good to see you again." I looked over and saw her smile. "I thought you were nothing but a childhood memory." 

"At least I wasn't a childhood nightmare," she laughed. "Sorry we didn't get to chat much tonight. I'm out of practice with all this socializing. I'd forgotten parties were so much hard work." 

"No problem," I gallantly dismissed. "I figured I'd hang around now and help you tidy up a little." 

Cora protested, citing that she didn't intend tidying anything up until the following day, but I insisted, telling her it wouldn't take long and she wouldn't wake up to a bomb-site in the morning. She reluctantly agreed, and then asked me about the stuff we needed to catch up about: exes, work, memories, families, etc. While we talked it was hard not to let my mind drift back to that night, so long ago, and even to think of what it would be like to hold Cora as a lover. I imagined running my hands over her sensual hips, and across the curve of her gorgeous ass. Then, when she stood up to see out her final guests, I realized that I couldn't stand with her; not without an unwanted display of a prominent bulge anyway. 

Cora went into the kitchen before coming back to the sofa, handing me one of two full wine glasses as she sat down. 

"I can't," I declined, "I have to drive home." 

"Your choice," she giggled, "but the sofa's comfortable if you want to sleep here. Hey, we could even go out for breakfast if you like. I've been meaning to set up dinner with you for months, but it's just been stupid crazy around here. How's that sound?" 

It sounded good enough for me to take a mouthful from the glass she'd given me. Just knowing that I could spend more time with Cora the next day was more than good enough! 

"Come on then," I reached for her hand and pulled her upright, "we need to get my bedroom a bit tidier before I turn in for the night." I started picking up a few plates and glasses from the table and the floor. 

Before Cora joined me she walked over to her CD player and swapped out a party mix for a gentle jazz compilation that eased away the edges from the night. I snuck a look over at her smoothing out the wrinkles in her dress as she stood. "Something's been bugging me for years," she announced as she joined me carrying another load of washing up to the kitchen. 

I gave her a friendly shrug, inviting her to unburden herself. 

"How come, all those years ago, we never dated?" Cora was loading the dishwasher and not looking at me as she asked the question. 

I laughed a little, but definitely felt the tension rise a notch or two. "I figure I was never brave enough to ask you." I continued to feed crockery to her. "It sure wasn't anything to do with me not wanting to ask you, or never wanting to find out of you didn't want to date." 

Now she stood up and giggled. "Okay, let me count the double negatives in that sentence and figure out if that's a good thing or not. I'll get back to you." 

I thought about it as I watched her cram a final few items into the dishwasher. The dilemma was whether to go there or not. How much did I want to find out... both about then, and now? In the end my instinct took over and the words came out, almost without consciousness, "There's something been bugging me for years, too." 

"Yes?" She placed a cleaning tablet in the dispenser and closed the door. "What's that?" She switched the appliance on, reached for the wine bottle, and started to refill our glasses. 

I followed her back to the sofa and tried to find the right words. "Well, do you remember... at a New Year's party your folks had, one time, probably the last one before you left... we danced?" 

"Not sure," she sipped at her glass and slipped backwards into a more horizontal position. "I'm sure we did, but I'm not sure I remember the exact occasion. Was there something about it I should remember?" Only the tiniest hint of a playful grin crossed her face. 

"I don't know," I was heartened as I carefully sat next to her, but still not sure whether we were on the same page, "it was just a nice time I guess." 

We settled into a comfortable late-night discussion of how things had been back in the day, taxing our memories as we recalled schooldays and playful moments. I constantly caught myself admiring Cora's lips as she spoke and smiled, how they still looked the way they did the night we danced so long ago. She looked incredible after all this time, and my desire started to take over my body again. 

"Tell you what," she put down her drink as we finished laughing about an old teacher, "why don't we dance? See if anything jogs my memory?" 

Cora stood and held out her hand for me. I accepted it and she didn't let go while we positioned ourselves in the center of the room. The music was soft, almost haunting, as my body slipped towards hers and we started to gently move. 

Her fingers were warm to my touch and underneath her dress her body was soft against mine as the rhythm casually pushed us around the room. Almost immediately she let go of my hand and allowed me to wrap my arms around her, resting my hands on her lower back. I felt her arms cross under mine and come up to rest against my shoulder blades. After a few more steps I leaned forward a little more and could smell her hair, fresh and sensual. At first I bumped against her, but after it happened a few times and I felt no reaction, I became confident enough to rest my covered erection against her. Cora's cheek came to rest on my shoulder. 

I knew this was real, tonight, but it felt like so many years ago. 

"You know," she spoke softly into my ear, "I think I do remember something about that night now." 

I fought my instincts to ask what it was had reminded her, but felt another rush of blood to my tumescence. "You know, that night has lived with me forever." We kept moving gently as I spoke, my erection now almost glued to her body. "I've always wondered if you felt... me. I always wondered if there was something I should've done, or if I should've ever let that happen, or what would've happened if we'd just sat together a little longer that night. If I should have done something else..." 

Cora lifted her head a little and nodded. Her breasts started to push a little harder into me as she straightened up. "I know what you mean." She angled her head back to look at me. "And, yes, it felt good that you did what you did, that you were the way you were while we danced." 

"I think..." she looked at me with her youthful eyes and a widening smile, "I know now what I should've done that night." 

"You do?" My hard on was almost pulsing with the growing tension of the moment now. 

"Yes," she whispered, and brought her lips to mine. 

They were the softest lips I ever tasted. She kissed me gently, over and over, pulling our bodies harder together but keeping our lips' touch to little more than a brush against each other. At her first firmer push, I instinctively opened my mouth and allowed her tongue to come play with mine. The moment was sublime. Cora twisted her tongue around mine and began pulling our hips together with a new firm grip on my ass cheek. 

The smile on her face as we broke the kiss was the sexiest thing I ever saw. I moved my hands over her lower back and up her sides as we continued to dance and silently smile at each other. 

"That was good," I whispered to her, "late, but very good." 

Cora giggled. "I guess I remembered that night all along," she confessed, "and... there was one other regret I've always had from that dance." 

"Tell me," I urged. 

"I can't." Her voice deepened and her eyes narrowed as the tension continued to rise between us. "I need to show you." 

Cora's hand made its way along the outside of my hip and squeezed between our bodies until it rested length-wise against my erection. My eyes closed involuntarily and I caught my breath as she gripped me. In the sensual atmosphere of her post-party room and with Cora's wonderful body virtually wrapped around me, the moment was worth waiting for. 

I kissed her again, deeply and urgently this time. While I pinned her to me with one hand on her buttock, my other hand ran up her side, all the way over the top of her breast to her shoulder, then down to her soft curve again. Her body pulled away from me, inviting me to cup her fully while she rubbed me and I kissed her breathlessly. 

She wasn't wearing a bra, so her excited nipple was easy to find through her dress. I pressed hard against the breasts I had dreamed of for so long and Cora moaned a little through our kiss as I ran my fingers over her. 

"I see you do remember me, then," she smiled, pulling away from our kiss, but increasing her hand action on me. This time we stopped moving to the music and simply stood I front of each other. 

Without another word Cora slipped down to her knees, her hands never leaving my body as they slipped downwards along my legs and then back up again to start unbuckling my belt. My dreams unfolded before me as Cora unlocked the buckle, then looked up and smiled as she pulled down my zipper. 

My pants were still hanging around my thighs when she reached in and pulled me free, springing into the open, hard and throbbing. Rather than hold me, Cora brought her mouth up to lick along my shaft, first one side and then the other, before flicking at the tip of my cock a few times. She looked up at me and her eyes never left mine as she closed her lips around me. While her lips locked and she applied some suction, her tongue sensually ran around the head of my cock, causing it to throb even more. I heard someone moan, and belatedly realized it was me. "Cora," I managed to whisper. 

Cora's fingers wrapped around my balls gently while her thumbs pressed into the base of my shaft. Her mouth started to slip up and down on me a little, tightly over the rim of my head and making those balls start to tingle already. She knew what she was doing, though, and eased her mouth off me as gently as she'd taken me inside. Now holding me lightly with one hand, she licked up and down the shaft a few times again. 

I knew what to do when she stood up and kissed me again. Her hand was gently rubbing me as I reached around, pulled her zipper down and eased her dress off her shoulders. I immediately pulled it away from her chest, revealing her wonderful mounds and their crowning nipples. My eyes feasted on her dark nipples as my fingers reached up to test their excitement. Her now not-so-little buds stood proud and felt hard between my fingertips. 

It was my turn to slip to my knees, and pull her dress over her hips as I did so. The limp garment fell down her legs and revealed the smallest black g-string I'd ever seen. I reached around to take hold of her buttocks and pull my face closer. Cora smelled luxurious as I inched towards her and nuzzled the silky material. The musk of sex and perfume was heady as I licked at the top of her thigh, across the bottom of her belly and onto the other thigh. Next I came back to lick above her pubic area while I hooked the strings in my fingers and started to ease her panties down. 

By now all thoughts of past dreams of Cora were gone, replaced by the most wonderful present—perfectly represented by the dark and swollen lips and neatly trimmed triangle of bush that was a vision of heaven. I couldn't resist finding out if she tasted like heaven also, so I leaned forward far enough to touch her lips with the tip of my tongue. 

Cora was already excited to the point that I could taste her from the very tips of her lips. She was citric sweet, and amazingly warm to the end of my tongue. I felt her thighs open and usher me to probe deeper, so I started to lap slowly up and down her sexy folds and immediately felt her juices start to flow freely onto my tongue. 

My hand slid slowly up her thigh, hardly pausing as my fingers split apart and the middle one headed straight for her slit. It slid in effortlessly, Cora gasped in pleasure and I licked at the exposed pink. 

"I need to sit," she groaned at me with a half-laugh, "I might collapse." 

As much as I sympathized with her state, I did not want her to sit yet, so I withdrew my finger, stood semi-upright and took a nipple into my mouth. I sucked hard, rolling her hard bud with my tongue and sucking on her. My hand took hold of her other nipple, squeezing it and being rewarded with another pleasure moan. It was about then that Cora's hand managed to find my hardness and started to stroke beautifully. 

"Dance with me a little more?" I slipped off my shirt, wrapped my arms around her, kissed her deeply and led our resumption of our erotic slow dance. 

While we kissed and stepped around the room naked, my hands roamed over her buttocks, pulling her into me, repeatedly seeking to fondle her breasts and caressing her cheek as she kissed me with a wonderful, deep, passion. Cora's body was soft and warm, and her own hands were doing everything in their power to please me. After only a few minutes of dancing I felt her try to climb onto my erection, so I started to ease her upwards. 

With her hands on my shoulders, her legs tight around me and my hands under her arms, we raised her up. All the time we continued silent eye contact and simply let our instincts take us where they wanted. When Cora was raised high enough, my cock found its way underneath her and was poised beneath her desperate pussy. Feeling me touch her lips, Cora made a small adjustment to her position and we slowly allowed her to slide down onto me. 




Remember Me



Her soft folds covered me in slick velvet skin and when she was fully impaled Cora smiled at me. "You'll never, ever, have to ask if I remember you after this," I said and kissed her again. 

With one hand on her bottom and another supporting her back, I helped her ease herself up and down on me a few times. I loved the way she was possessed by the passion of the moment now and ground herself tight onto me. 

"God you feel so good," she almost hissed at me as our small movements started to deliver a huge physical impact. 

I made the couple of steps that it took to position us close to her sofa and then eased our bodies downward so that I was on my knees. Now, without ever slipping out of Cora's glorious pussy, I leaned forward and rested her on the edge of the sofa. Her arms let go of my neck and deliciously ran down the length of my chest as she leant away from me. Cora looked amazing, her impassioned face, her incredible breasts and her wonderful pussy that had my cock disappearing into it. 

Simultaneously I started to thrust slowly in and out of her and reached over to take a nipple between my fingers. Cora shuffled to better position herself for my thrusting. I watched as she closed her eyes and sighed, obviously enjoying what my cock felt like as it plunged in and out of her with a slow but relentless pace. 

Within minutes I could feel my own body start to near the summit of our lovemaking; my skin tightening and my blood feeling like it had an electric current running though it. Watching Cora start to moan, I started to massage the top of her very wet pussy, immediately finding her clit, now noticeably swollen. She moaned a little more as I stroked her and continued to pull gently on her nipple. Just for a second I took in the scene, Cora's eyes closed as she moaned, my hands working her body, and my cock moving in and out of her. It was the most incredible scene I'd ever witnessed, and I knew I was going to come soon. 

My dream with Cora was always that we would come together, and I was starting to work at that goal when she took away all need. Using her elbows to prop herself a little more upright, Cora opened her eyes, locked onto mine, and said, "Come for me, baby. I'm ready when you are, let's come together." 

I didn't need any further encouragement, but got it anyway, in the form of her reaching over and holding my hip so she could assist my rhythm. I slowed my strokes on her clit, synchronizing with my thrusts into her and started to feel the orgasm build slowly and tighten my balls to the root of my cock. "Now, baby, now," she breathed at me as I felt her hips buck upwards and press her pussy onto my fingers. 

The climax was so intense that I almost stopped thrusting. Rushing like a freight train through every nerve in my body, the sparks started to tingle and the depth-charge of pleasure was released. It went off somewhere at the base of my belly, radiating waves of ecstasy through every inch of me, burning my skin like a flash wildfire and squeezing my balls harder than I'd ever known. My cock spasmed several times before I started to shoot come. Just before the first shot I realized that some of the contractions were directly from Cora, who was now deep in the throes of her own climax. 

Her eyes were closed, she was pulling me into her and her pussy was bucking onto my cock and into my hand. I felt her squeeze my shaft time and again as her moment seemed to go on forever. Just as I started to ejaculate I felt a sudden rush of wetness all around her pussy and knew that she had done the same. With each of the next five or six thrusts, I felt my balls unload into her, my burning white come swimming all around her soaked pussy when I'd done. 

Breathlessly, I looked down and saw her open her eyes and smile at me. "Oh my," she half-giggled and half-whispered, "what have we found here?" 

I pulled her up from the sofa and kissed her. The salty taste of her sex sweat newly awoke my senses as I tasted her again. My cock was still inside her as we hugged, tight, warm, and satisfied. 

"Well," I cleared my throat and looked at her beautiful, flushed, face, "that's one of my life's ambitions taken care of." 

Cora kissed me again and smiled playfully now. "You'll have to fill me in on the rest of your ambitions, see if I can't help you with more of them. If they're anything like as good as that one..." I felt her hand brush my cheek and her pussy squirm on my cock. "And..." she smiled impishly, "I know another good thing that comes out of this." 

"You do?" It was hard to imagine the night getting any better. 

"Yes." She paused for a long, deep, kiss. "Now you don't have to sleep on the sofa. But I have to warn you, I charge for sleeping in my bed, and the only currency I accept is lovemaking." 

That was one price I was more than happy to pay.



Remember Me?



The color of his eyes was a muted hazel – sometimes brown and sometimes green. Right now they were a vivid, almost contrived green, something the colored contact manufacturers would love to have in their product cases. 

"Hi. It's been a long time." 

His voice was pure butter – soft, warm, and melty – and it was all she could do not to blush at the mere sound of it. 

"Yeah, it sure has." Oh hell, where was her famous vocabulary now? All he had to do was say a simple sentence, and it was all she could do not to turn tail and run. For Chrissakes, she'd had this man's penis in her mouth! 

"So how are you?" Nervous... nervous and already so damned turned on she could barely keep her eyes off the solid bulge beneath the buckle of his belt. She wanted to feel that silky shaft buried deeply between the moving flesh of her lips – against her tongue – sliding over the flat of her hot and hungry taste buds. She missed him, and the taste of him in her mouth and throat. Missed him terribly. 

John watched her for a few moments. After all, he'd not been able to banish the memory of her head pressed tight against his crotch while he'd systematically pumped forward to feed more and more of the throbbing proof of his hunger deeper into her mouth and the entrance of her throat. Even the times he wasn't trying to remember – she was just there, along with the hunger and need she could bring out in his body and spirit. 

Suddenly, a memory filled her mind and she licked her lips slowly. The projector in her mind was alive with the vision of the first time she'd taken her courage in hand and showed him how the nipple clamps worked – then several weeks later asked him if he'd like to attach them himself.. Hungry now. Hungry for him. 

The movie in her mind stopped with the realization that he was also remembering – remembering something. His breath slowed and deepened, his eyes blackened, and he slowly walked toward her while releasing the buckle of his belt. He moved as if it had only been yesterday that they were parked off the dirt road that had somehow become their spot, while his cock – strong, hard, and pulsing – was working its way into the wet cove of her clinging mouth and lips. 

"Fuck..." The word only an exhale as she tilted her head and opened the lips he remembered. 

*~*~*~*~*~*~**~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

It was the texture of him that brought the first moan to her lips. Wet velvet smoothness surrounding the iron hardness beneath. It was just as she remembered, and her mouth knew exactly what to do. Pure instinct, pure enjoyment. 

Her moan brought one to his lips as his hips surged forward, and she simply held him in her mouth and... suckled. It had been so long, but the taste and feeling of him was stamped on her mind – never to be erased. 

You know, it's funny what the body remembers without thought – the feel of flesh, the taste of musky sex, the knowledge that pleasure is being brought to someone else, and therefore to you. It responds every time, and she felt that tingle between her legs, followed by the need to take him deeper, stronger. 

She could feel the beat of his pulse against her tongue as the hardness of his cock slid tantalizingly slowly over the seal of lips. Primal beat, hungry bodies – both needing what the other could give... what the other was giving, even now. 

Enough of this, time to get down to business. The thought was no more than a whiff of smoke to a mind centered on the primeval act of a woman's lips wrapped tightly around the shaft of a man's very masculinity – his cock. And she was very good at her craft.

Tiny flicks of her tongue tip over the solid ridge of skin that connected the swollen head to the straining shaft of pulsing meat. Once, twice, three times. Moans swirled through the air, but whose? His moans of being pleasured or her moans of lust at what she was doing? 

It didn't matter. 

The only thing there was, was the feel of him in her mouth again. The smell of him, the rush of excited heat that ran from head to cunt. That's what mattered, that's what was real. 

No longer could he pump slowly and steadily into her mouth. Faster, deeper, stronger, HARDER. Yes, oh fuck yes. Trembling fingers tangled into thick hair – pulling the heat of her mouth tighter and closer. He wanted her to take everything he had, take it down her working throat until he exploded. 

And that was one of the great things about her, she wanted it. She wanted every inch and every pulse. Wanted the way his body twisted. Wanted the sound of his breathing. And when it was beyond his control, she wanted to feel the thick jets of his seed filling her mouth and throat. 

Almost there now. Urgent thrusts of hips that wanted... needed... demanded... that she open her throat to him and the insistent battering of his swelling cock. Yes... yes... yes... yyyeeeesssssssss. 

It happened in a rush, as it always did. One minute his head fell back, and the next he was pumping spurts of thick jism into her mouth... into her throat. And she was drinking him. 

Some women wouldn't let a man come in her mouth – didn't like doing this at all. DeAnne was different. She loved it. She loved everything about the look and feel of a hard cock in her mouth. Sometimes it was like she was watching – as if from a distance she could see the movements of him and even her as she coaxed his seed from deep inside of him. The tight balls against her chin, the curve of his stomach against her nose, the shiny flesh moving back and forth between suckling lips all played through her mind's eye and left their barbed spikes of hunger deep in her belly. 

"I missed you." Was all he said as he lifted the tongue of the zipper and pulled it upwards.



Remember Me?



My first summer home from college was one to never forget. I had just turned twenty one, and the friends that I had not seen for the whole year I was away had greeted me at the airport. I was excited to be home, and so were my friends. That night, after seeing my parents and having dinner with them, I left to the town bar. Everyone who wanted to drink, or pick someone up to fuck goes to Barney's. It was a good night to go too. Everyone who I knew was there. Including a couple of teachers too! I noticed my ex boyfriend, hanging out by the bar, a drink in his hand. He waved to me, our relationship down to friends.

"How have you been? I see you're back in town." He motioned to the bartender to bring me a drink. 

"Fine. I'm on summer break. It's great to be home."

What had happened between us was unforgettable. We had dated all through high school, making out at first, moving onto touching each other and licking, sucking. Then, to having sex. He was the best lover I'd ever had, he had taken my virginity and vice versa. I loved him. Still did. 

"How is school? I hope you like it."

The bartender interrupted to ask for my ID and I happily gave it to him. 

"It's fine. I don't like the whole big campus, but I guess I can live with it."

We had broken up because we both were going out of state for school. I hated it and so did he.

After having shot after shot, we were laughing up a storm. Tons of men sent me drinks, and I drank them, but the only man in my sights was next to me. I felt it deep in my stomach, that longing. It made it even pleasurable to know that it was someone who knew what he was doing that turned me on. I didn't know if he was with someone or not. And I didn't care. All I knew was that I had to fuck him, even if it would be the last time. I gathered my courage and turned to him, to his ear.

"Shane, I want you to take me home. Fuck me in your room like you used to, while you listen in case your mom gets up." I grinned at him, and when he grinned back, I knew that I would get it good.d After paying for the drinks that I had, I followed him home. I knew that I should not be driving, but the thought of fucking him again and the booze did not mix and I was as alert as ever. As we pulled into the driveway, I could feel my pussy, how wet it was, from anticipation. He came around, and opened my door, like he used to. 

"Be quiet, my mother is alseep. "

I laughed, and walked into the house with him. The interior had not changed, his mother obsessed with cows. I trudged behind him, and almost tip toed past his mother's room. My heart beat heavily inside my chest. His room, however, had changed. He had been away, and his mom had obviously been in here. Tons of puppy decorations littered the floor, the walls and the shelves. She had kept the bed in here for when he came home, on breaks. But the bed had a puppy spread, the pillow cases with little beaming puppies on them. It made me laugh.

"That's too good. I can't believe your mother did this."

He laughed with me, and with that laugh, my clit throbbed.

"Fuck me like a dog on your bed."

"Shit, Ellie, what the hell happened to you while you were gone?"

"I just know what I want, and what I want is that hard cock in my tight pussy!"

He gulped hard, and kissed me softly. But I would have none of that. I bit into his tongue and he groaned. I rubbed at the front of his jeans, his hardness throbbing under my hand. 

"God, yeah." He whispered. 

I grinned, sucking his tongue.

I began to unbuckle his belt, and got to my knees, letting the belt hit the floor with the jeans he wore. I could see the outline of his cock in the boxers that he wore, a small dot of wetness on the front proved that I was doing everything right. I pulled him out of the hole in his boxers, and he moaned softly.

He knew what I was going to do. It had been a while since I sucked him, and I had a couple of new skills. 

I jerked him softly, and rubbed his balls with my other had, which was something new. I never thought to rub a man's balls until the one guy I fucked at school told me to. He had taught me many things.

I gave them a last squeeze, and dragged mouth down. Taking one of his balls into his mouth, I sucked. He gasped at the unexpected contact, and I felt his cock by my ear. I switched from one to the other, not yet licking his cock. I knew he wanted it, wanted it bad. He was moaning and grabbing at my head, trying to push me into putting his cock in my mouth.

"Come on, El. Suck it, baby. Suck me!"

That made my ears burn, hearing him say that. I had talked to him like that, so why was I so shocked? 

He pulled my head back by my hair, and shoved himself into my mouth. I gagged for a second, then adjusted myself to allow his cock to slide in my throat. He fucked my face. I swirled my tongue around his head, making him jeark into my mouth.

"Fuck, yeah, fuck El. Goddamn, it's so good! Suck it hard!"

I obliged, and soon his whole cock, down to his balls, was in my tight mouth. I could feel them begin to tighten up, and his groans told me he was close, so close to coming. I quickly popped him out of my mouth, and he moaned in protest.

"Return the fucking favor."

I pulled the zipper on my pants down slowly, tantlizing him. He grabbed me by my hips, done with the teasing, and pulled them down.

"I can smell that wet pussy from here, and fuck, you're so wet, I can see that spot on the front of these."

He pulled the panties I wore down, exposing my shaved pussy to the air. My clit was out of it's hood, and he seperated my lips, rubbing that small nub.

"Oh, fuck, rub it! Yes, that's good!"

He stood, and I took the pool of jeans and panties off my feet and he lifted me onto his bed, getting ready to suck out my pussy. I was hot, ready for it, and when his head disappeared between my legs, my head spun.

He licked my thighs, biting the flesh softly. My breathing got faster, and some of my wetness drifted onto my thigh. He licked all of the drops off. When I saw him do that, I had to have my pussy sucked!

"Come on, Shane!"

He finally licked my lips, softly. I wanted, no scratch that, needed, more. He used the tip of his tongue to make circles around my clit, and I moaned loudly.

"Shh, Ellie, be quiet. My mom is sleeping!"

I laughed. It was just like old times. He would wait for me at his front door, at night, and take me to his room. I was just as loud as I am now.

He fixed his lips onto my clit and sucked hard. I felt the blood rush to that nub, and I was close to coming. I bucked my hips up into his head, and just when I was about to finish, he stopped.

"What the fuck?" I groaned.

He laughed at me.

"If you can make me hold out then you can."

In protest, sat up and took his cock into my mouth again. I continued to suck him off, but after a couple of minutes, he had me on my back. I spread my legs wide, waiting and inviting.

After two years of missing his cock, I felt it again. Inside of me, filling me whole. 

"Fuck, it's good. Shit, Ellie, you're so wet!"

I nodded, and kissed him, and he began to pump into me. My pussy was so hot, and I was on the verge of coming, so close to reaching that goal that every woman wants. 

"Fuck,yes, that's it! Harder, come on, fuck me harder!"

He moaned and reached between us, rubbing my clit. I sqealed; and right then and there, I came, screaming out his name and bucking under him. Soon, he followed suit and gushed hot come into my cunt. He moaned above me and collapsed on top of me. His chest crushed mine, my nipples still hard on his. We both breathed hard, the heat still lingering between us. Always will. Then, I started laughing. For some odd reason, I did. 

"What? What's so funny El?" He asked me.

I shrugged, grinning.

"I don't know. All I know is that I am moving to a school closer to here!"

"I would love that."

I know he would. I squeezed my pussy around his hardening cock to prove that he would.




Thanks for reading! I hope to have some sort of continuation of this, if enough people enjoyed this one! I have a lot of stories to transfer on here, so keep reading Crazy! 



Remember Me?



When I was sixteen years old, one my dad's old drinking buddies said to me, one day, "Son, you probably don't realise it now, but these are the best years of your life. Once you finish school, it's all downhill from there. Mark my words on that." My heart kind of sank when he told me that, and I thought, You mean, this is as good as it gets?

To put it, mildly, my school years weren't the happiest years of my life. I was skinny, kind of shy, and I didn't have a lot of self-confidence. As for girls, well, just forget all about that, too. They weren't interested in me at all, and I used to get all kinds of crap about being so skinny. My friends were mostly from the non-athletic group, although, being built like a greyhound, I was always good at running, both on the track and cross-country, so at least I got on okay with the school sports master, Mr Shersingh, and he didn't give me a hard time like he did with the others. Unlike all my friends, I would turn up for the school athletics carnivals, and I'd usually do okay in the running events, but that didn't make me any more popular with my peers.

I remember one guy in my year at school, Eddie Clayton, who hung out with all the "tough guys." He was a big guy, who played representative football for the school team, and for some reason, he took a dislike towards me right from the start of high school, even though I hardly ever had anything to do with him. One day, in English class, while we waited for the teacher to arrive, he took exception to something I said, even though I wasn't even talking to him, and he said, "You're a pissweak little poofter, Roberts!" I tried to ignore him, but he went on with. "I see you hanging out with your faggot mates all the time. You're queer, you little cunt, aren't you?" After that, he would often call me a "poofter" or a "queer" in front of his tough-guy friends, and although I hated it, he was twice my size, so there wasn't a lot I could do about it.

Another person in my year at school was Linda Moffatt. She was good looking, in fact, she was a knockout, with long, wavy hair that was a kind of light strawberry blonde colour, and she had fair skin, blue-grey eyes, and a pretty face, with cover-girl features. She had a slim but curvy figure that filled out her school uniform remarkably well, and don't even get me started on her legs, or her butt in a pair of jeans. She hung out with a bunch of girls who all seemed to love themselves almost as much as they loved giving me a hard time for being so skinny. At the school athletics carnivals, they'd sing out "Muscle Man," and "The Incredible Hulk" when they saw me, and I tried to laugh at the stupidity of it, but I used to wish I wasn't so thin, and of course it didn't do much for my self esteem, either.

One day, in my second last year of high school, we were in biology class, in the science lab, and we had our textbook open at a chapter on the human musculoskeletal system. The page was illustrated with a black and white photograph of a big, muscular body-builder type, in the classical pose, showing off his rippling physique. Linda came over and slid onto the stool next to me, and she pointed at the picture in my textbook, and said, "Is that a picture of you?" Back then, I was kind of lost for words, so I didn't even answer, and she just slid off the stool, and went back to her own desk, to giggle with her friends at her witty escapade.

A couple of times during the following year, she would speak to me at school, as though she was trying to start a conversation, but I was a little awkward in responding, because of the crap I'd taken from her in the past, so we never really got to know each other in those days. Even so, if I wasn't friends with her, I have to admit I fantasised over her from time to time, but, hey, I was only human, and I was a teenage boy, wasn't I?

When I finished school at eighteen, there was a recession on, and jobs were a little hard to get. Not only that, but I had no real idea what I wanted to do with my life, but I felt like I had to do something constructive, so after a lot of soul-searching, I surprised everyone, including myself, by joining the army. People say the army makes a man of you, but I like to think I at least gave them some worthwhile raw material to work with. My recruit training in the army made me fitter and stronger than I had ever been, and when I got fitter, I felt better, and began to like myself more. I put on a little weight, but not all that much, so I was now lean-built instead of just skinny, but at least I was well-toned.

After my recruit training at Kapooka, I was assigned to the Royal Australian Corps of Transport, where I learned to drive trucks, heavy equipment, cranes, and small watercraft. I only did six years in the army, but in that time I went places, and did things I would never have expected to have done otherwise, and I regularly faced both physical and mental challenges that made me a stronger, more confident person, who was closer to my own potential. I feel like I owed a lot to the army, and I loved my time as a soldier, but after six years, I was ready for a change.

At twenty-four, and straight out of the army, I joined a logistics company that actively recruited ex-army personnel, and I spent the first year in Sydney, before they offered me a transfer to a city halfway across the state, and I accepted. I made a good life for myself out there, and a few years later I married a local girl named Wendy, and a new chapter of my life began. At thirty-four, I was an assistant manager, and a year later, I was made area manager for the region. I was earning very good money by that time, and I thought I had a great life. I was married to a beautiful woman, I had two great kids, a nice home in a good part of town, and everything seemed to be going well. Maybe life was just too good, or at least, fate seemed to think so, because it seems like fate must have decided I needed to be taken down a peg or two, and just after I turned thirty-seven, Wendy left me for another woman.

That's right, you did read that correctly. Wendy, the love of my life, left me for the nursing unit manager in the orthopaedics department at the local hospital, and I never even saw it coming. Right up until our last week together, our sex life was great, or at least I thought it was, and everything seemed to be going well, and then I was dumped for a woman. I felt gutted, I felt lost, I felt like I was destroyed.

I tried to minimise the disruption to my kids' lives by moving into a small two-bedroom apartment in the middle of town, so they could stay in our house with their mother. I got a place with an extra bedroom, so they could sleep over, and we arranged for access visits, and everything else that goes on after a marriage breaks up, and I got on with life the best way I could.

Somehow, losing Wendy to another woman seemed to be worse than if it was another man. I don't know why, because the result is the same, but it just felt worse. I kept wondering if it was me, if I had turned her the other way somehow, if I was lacking in something, that made her turn lesbian. It shook me to the core, I can assure you, and I know a lot of guys would be out looking for a new woman straight away, but I didn't feel ready to go back into the arena. Not yet, anyway.

About a year before Wendy left me, I went to a manager's conference in Melbourne, where I ran into a guy called Warren Baxter, who was an old friend from my school days. We had been pretty good friends in high school, and I found out we'd been working for the same company for years, but neither us knew about the other one. After that, we used to keep in contact by email and the occasional phone call, but seeing I had left my home town almost as soon as I left school, Warren was the only person I still knew from those far-off days, although he would occasionally give me some news on people we had known as teenagers.

Now that I was suddenly and unexpectedly single, I had a lot more time on my hands, and about eight months after my marriage broke up, I got an email from Warren, telling me there was a twenty-year school reunion coming up, and asking me if I was interested in going.

Twenty years! I thought, Has it really been that long? Then, I thought about it and wondered if it was really worth going in the first place. My parents had long since retired and moved to Queensland, so I hadn't even visited the city where I grew up for years, and I wasn't even sure I wanted to revisit that forgotten, and forgettable, part of my life again. First off, I told Warren I'd be giving it a miss, but then I reconsidered. My social life was almost zero, but that was mostly because I hadn't felt like going out much after Wendy left me, so I gave it some thought, and decided a few days away might do me some good.

I could have flown down for a two-day stay, but I decided to take a week out of my annual leave, and drive down to the coast, book into a motel for a few days, and in addition to going to the reunion, I thought I might check out a few places from my youth that I hadn't seen for two decades. After all, I had plenty of time on my hands now, so I rang Warren to let him know I was going.

In a week or so, I got an invitation for the reunion in the mail, telling me it was a semi-formal occasion, to be held in the function centre of a luxury hotel that wasn't even built when I left town, and the address showed it was just down the street from my old high school. After I got the invitation, I found I was looking forward to the night, and it occurred to me that apart from my marriage, I was doing quite okay at that time in my life, and I started wondering what my former classmates had been up to.

At nearly thirty-eight, I still had all my hair, I hadn't gone grey, and I was in pretty good shape overall. I was about thirty pounds heavier than I was at eighteen, but that was a good thing, because I was such a skinny kid, and although I was still pretty lean built for my height, I had kept my fitness up. I kind of wondered what everybody else looked like these days.

The reunion was to be held on a Saturday night, so I rang up and booked a room in the same hotel where it was going to be held, and after a week at work, I packed my car on Friday afternoon, and headed back to my home town, wondering along the way who I might meet again, and what everyone had been up to over the years. As I drove along, I thought back to those long-ago days, when I was a shy, skinny kid, and I thought of the things I got up to with my friends, and how simple life was, but amongst the nostalgia, one or two bad memories came back as well. Sometimes, Memory Lane can take you through some bad neighbourhoods.

As I got into town, taking the turn-off from the highway, past suburbs that were just open fields in my youth, past the old war memorial, towards the city centre, I actually got butterflies in my stomach. I didn't expect that, I thought to myself.

I got to the hotel in the late evening, so I went straight to bed, without even looking around town, as I had planned, but as I checked in, I saw a sign already in place outside the door leading upstairs to the function room, saying "Lake Chifley High School Class of 1988 Twenty Year Reunion." When I saw that sign, and when I read the name of my old school, with the school crest underneath it, and the latin motto, "Vultus versus lux lucis," the nostalgia seemed to return for a few moments, and I wondered if I was going soft in the head, feeling that way about a school I didn't even like going to in the first place.

The next day, I got up, had breakfast, and then I went for a drive, for a look around town. I took a detour past the house where I grew up, now remodelled since my parents sold it, and I checked out a few places where I played, or hung out as a kid. Naturally, the memories, both good and bad, came flooding back, as I drove around town, occasionally stopping just to breathe the old, familiar air again.

The reunion was due to start at 6pm, with dinner and dancing, and seeing it was semi formal, I wore my best suit, and I walked up from my room just after six. I met up with Warren and his pregnant wife, Casey, who had a coke while Warren and I had a couple of beers, and the evening began. Seeing and meeting all these people from my youth, after so long, was a strange experience, as I looked around, sometimes recognising people immediately, and sometimes having to ask their names, because I had forgotten, or just didn't recognise them. Some of the guys had lost their hair, some had gone grey, many of them had put on weight, and some of the girls who had been lookers back in the day were now plump and matronly middle-aged women. One girl, who wouldn't even talk to me as a teenager, walked over and hugged me, saying "Kevin, I haven't seen you for years! Where've you been? What've you been up to?" and then gushing and talking like we were old buddies or something. Almost everyone had a husband or a wife with them, and I felt a little conscious of the fact that I was there on my own, but with so many people from my past coming up to shake hands, hug me, or exchange stories with me, I didn't have much time to think about that.

For three quarters of an hour, we all stood around talking and drinking, and there was an excited buzz of conversation, with plenty of laughter mixed in, going around the room, and the waiters started to bring in the tables with food for the serve-yourself buffet dinner. People were forming into groups, and everyone was working out where to sit for dinner, and as I looked around for Warren and his wife, thinking I may as well join them, I heard a female voice to my left, saying a plain, and simple, "Hello."

I looked over to my left, and I saw Linda Moffatt, or at least that's the name I knew her by. I expected she'd be married by now, and she was standing a few feet away, looking at me, with a slightly ironic smile. My first impression was that the years had been good to her, because she didn't look much different from the way I remembered her at school. She still had that same light, strawberry blonde hair, now a little shorter, and if her face was no longer "covergirl," she didn't look thirty-eight, either. She was wearing a sleeveless, knee-length, red satin evening dress, with ruffles at the shoulders, that was showing a little of her very tidy cleavage, before hugging her figure on the way down, and flaring a little at the bottom. That figure it was hugging was still curvy, but now a little more rounded and womanly than when she was at school, and I have to say she looked elegant and impressive. With her fair complexion, and her strawberry blonde hair, that red dress really suited her, and I knew straight away who she was, but I must have hesitated, taking in what I saw, because she said, "Remember me?"

I nodded, and said, "Yeah, of course I do." I smiled, offered a handshake, and as she accepted, I said, "You're Linda Moffatt."

Linda smiled a pretty, but slightly wary, smile at me, and she said, "And you're Kevin Roberts." After shaking my hand, she looked at me and said, "You haven't changed much."

"I like to think I've improved on the inside," I said, offering her a smile of my own, and I added, "You haven't changed much, either."

"Well, I'm older," Linda answered, and she added, "and I like to think I'm wiser." I wasn't sure what she meant by that, but she made eye contact when she said it, as though she was scanning me for my reaction. I looked at her left hand, and I didn't see a wedding ring, and I think she knew I was looking, because she fidgeted with her hand for a moment, as though seeing me looking down there made her uncomfortable.

"I haven't seen you around for years," Linda said.

"I haven't been around for years," I answered, smiling so I didn't sound abrupt saying that, "I joined the army straight out of school, and moved away. I haven't lived here since I was eighteen."

"The army?" Linda said, looking a little surprised, "You never struck me as the army type."

"That's what my drill sergeant told me on the last day of basic training," I answered, "He was surprised, too."

"So, are you still in?" Linda asked, smiling, and seeming like she was interested.

"No," I said, shaking my head, and I went on to tell her what I was doing for a job these days. I asked what she was up to, and she told me she was assistant manager at a local credit union, and we had a conversation about life and work, and what we had done for the last twenty years. In the back of my mind, it felt strange to be talking to her like that, considering we hardly knew each other at school, and then considering the sort of contact that we did have there, but the truth was she was a very attractive woman, and I was enjoying talking to her.

Our conversation kind of faltered after a few minutes, and someone announced over the PA system that dinner was now served, and Linda looked around and said, "So, are you married now? Have you got someone here with you?" She kind of shrugged as she said that, and I stammered, "No. I'm umm, married, but we're separated." I swallowed, almost hating to acknowledge the fact to another person, and I added, "Umm, going through a divorce."

I couldn't help sighing after I spoke, but Linda said, rather flatly, "That's a coincidence."

"Why is that?" I asked, thinking, Surely she's not going to tell me she's going through a divorce, too.

Linda took a deep breath, and then she sighed, and said, "I'm separated. I was married, but..., " and she stopped, as though she was going to tell me more, but had changed her mind.

"I think I know how you feel," I said, truthfully.

"Yeah, I suppose you would," Linda said, nodding thoughtfully, and then she brightened a little, and said, "So, I guess you're here on your own then."

I nodded, and she said, "Well, seeing you're here on your own and I'm here on my own, why don't we sit together for dinner?" She looked me in the eyes, waiting for me to answer.

"I think I'd like that," I said, smiling at her. Almost beyond my control, my eyes fell to her cleavage for a very brief moment, until I caught myself, and when I looked back up, I saw that she knew I looked, but she just gave me a tiny smile, almost like she was pleased with herself.

Linda and I served ourselves dinner, and found a vacant table, and she sat on my right as we ate. We shared a bottle of white wine, and we talked about our memories of our school days, about the eccentricities of certain teachers back then, about things that went on at school over the years, as well as life since we finished school. It was kind of odd to be discussing all these shared memories with Linda, because we were virtually strangers, but I found myself liking her for her ironic sense of humour, her wit, and for a kind of vulnerable-yet-stylish thing that she had going for her. Not only that, but I was in the company of a rather beautiful woman, so I was really enjoying myself, and the thought occurred to me that I would have missed all this if had gone with my original decision not to come to the reunion in the first place.

Now and again, people we had known at school would come me over to speak to us, and at one stage, a girl came over to speak to Linda, with her husband in tow. She said to him, "This is Linda Clayton, one of my old school friends," and they shook hands over the table. After a few minutes of animated conversation, they left to speak to some other people, and I said to Linda, "So, is Clayton your married name?"

"Yes," she answered, and the tone of her voice suggested she was not happy about that right now. She looked at me, and added, "I married Eddie Clayton." She sighed and said, "I didn't mention his name before because I didn't feel like talking about him."




Remember Me?



"That's understandable," I said.

I didn't expect Linda to continue, but after a short pause, she said, "Eddie Fucking Clayton. Excuse the language, but you've got no idea what he did to me."

"No idea," I said, shaking my head, and Linda went on with, "We got married when we were twenty-four. Then, thirteen years later, he left me for another man!"

I felt my face falling, and I said, "Oh my God!"

I could see from the look on Linda's face that she was surprised at my response, and she looked at me like I was some kind of dickhead, mocking her by over-reacting to her misfortune. She shook her head, and began to look irritated, but I said, "You're not going to believe this, but Wendy left me for a woman. I think I know just how you feel."

Linda shook her head again, and said, with a kind of wondering amazement, "So, you do know what it's like." Her eyes widened, and she stiffened in her seat, and said, "Gutted, you feel gutted, don't you?"

"That's the word," I said, "That's the exact word for how I felt, too."

"And you wonder," Linda said, almost like she was reciting something that had gone through her mind many times, "You wonder if it was something you did, if you made them change. If you're lacking in something. If it was your fault."

"I know," I said, surprised that Linda was almost quoting, word for word, thoughts that had gone through my own head over the past months. She was now turned in her chair, facing me, and I aw all kinds of emotions on her face, all at once, anger, pain, shame, sympathy for me, all kinds of expressions, and she reached over with her right hand, placing it on the cuff of my left sleeve on the table, resting it there, and she looked at my face, shaking her head, and said, "I can't believe it's happened to you, too. It must be something in the water." She smiled, ruefully, and added. "We had two kids, and thirteen years, and he leaves me for a bloke!" She looked at her hand, resting on my sleeve, and took it way abruptly, like she had momentarily forgotten herself, but I was silent for a moment, thinking of the times Eddie Clayton had called me a "poofter" and a "queer" when we were at school. What a prick! I thought.

"Anyway," Linda said, patting the table for emphasis, "Forget them. We're here to enjoy ourselves. I've hardly been out for months, so Eddie's not going to spoil it for me tonight." By now, the DJ had started to play some music, and a few couples were already dancing. He had put on a slow song, and Linda looked over towards the dance floor, and after a moment's thoughtful pause, she said, "Do you, umm, dance, Kevin?"

"A little," I said, and I have to admit the thought of holding this pretty lady in my arms was rather appealing, but before I answered, Linda said, with a slightly playful note in her voice, "So, I don't suppose a dance is out of the question, then?"

"I would like that very much," I answered, smiling, because I just couldn't help it. We got up and went to the floor, and we started to slow-dance to the music. Linda's curvy body felt good in my arms, but I maintained the correct stance, not wanting to take any liberties. After a few moments, Linda said, "You dance pretty well."

"I took lessons," I said, looking into her pretty eyes, "When Wendy and I first got married, we took dancing lessons together. You know what it's like. We couldn't keep our hands off each other, so it was a good excuse to maul each other in public."

"Are you serious?" Linda asked, like she thought I was pulling her leg.

"Only half," I said, and then, because it was true, I added, "You dance pretty well yourself. Have you had lessons?"

"I used to teach dancing," Linda answered, with a hint of pride, "It was the second job I ever had, when I was twenty-two." Her smile was now happy, and for a brief moment, I had a lump in my throat, as I slow-danced with such an elegant, pretty and stylish woman, someone I could truthfully claim to have known since kindergarten, but had never really known at all. We danced for two songs, and by now we had moved around on the floor, to the doors leading onto the balcony, and Linda looked out and said, "Do you want to go outside? Maybe get some air?"

"Come on," I said, and we walked onto the balcony, with Linda on my right, and we looked over towards our old school, two hundred yards up the street.

"You can see the school from up here," Linda said, looking over. She went quiet for a moment and said, "Twenty years is a long time."

"Tell me about it," I said, keeping my tone light. We were both leaning on the balcony, and Linda moved closer and turned so she was now resting with her back against the railing, looking at me.

"I was a bitch to you at school, wasn't I?" she said, a little more serious.

I didn't answer, and Linda smiled, and said, "Come on, Kevin, you can say it. I was, wasn't I?"

"That was along time ago," I said, shrugging my shoulders, "We were all just kids back then."

"I know," she continued, "But I was still a bitch. And then when I got over myself a bit towards the end, and tried to talk to you, I couldn't get a conversation out of you." I was surprised she even remembered, but she went on again, with, "I guess I couldn't blame you."

"Well, I'm talking to you now," I said, smiling at her, enjoying the moment with her, even if she was just going over long-forgotten crap from the past. Linda tilted her head, and looked me up and down, and said, "Do you want to dance again?"

"I like the sound of that," I said, and I turned towards the door to go back inside, but Linda took my left hand in her right hand, and stopped me. "No. Out here," she said, her smile now slightly mischievous, "Let's do it out here. I like it out here."

We took each other in the waltzing position on the balcony, and we began dancing to the music playing inside. Once again, I thought to myself that I could have missed out on this if I had stayed away, as I had first planned, but Linda interrupted my thoughts as we danced.

"We're a pair of tragics, aren't we?" Linda said, but her tone didn't sound tragic. She looked up at me for my response.

"Depends how you look at it," I said, but I added, "But, yeah, it is pretty sad." Somehow my tone didn't match what I was saying, either.

"Eddie was always a handful," Linda said, staring into space as we danced, "but when I married him, I thought I could change him."

"And did you?" I asked, looking down at her.

"Well, considering he turned gay on me," Linda started, and she pulled a face like a little kid waiting for a balloon to pop, and added, "I hope not," finishing with a quick giggle.

"I doubt if it was you," I said, and I wasn't sure if I should continue, but I added, "Look at your reflection in the window over there," and I turned her gently, so she could see herself reflected in the double glass doors leading into the function room, and I said, "Somehow, I just don't think someone like you could turn a guy off women." Linda smiled at me, but she didn't answer straight away.

"You know how I said you hadn't changed much?" she asked. I nodded, and answered, "Yeah," as I smiled back at her.

"Well, you have changed," she started, as we kept on dancing to the music coming from inside the function room, "I hardly knew you at school, and I was just a nasty bitch, anyway, but then in Year 12, I'd hear you talking to your friends a couple of times, and I realised you sounded like a funny, interesting kind of guy." She looked up at me, and went on with, "I tried to talk to you, but you wouldn't talk to me." She swallowed, and continued with, "I guess I knew it was my fault for being such a turd in the first place, and then when we finished school, I never saw you again."

Linda pulled me in a little closer, holding me a little tighter, still dancing, and she said, "And then, twenty years later, you pop up out of nowhere, and you're tall, and you've got style, and confidence, and you're dressed in a smart suit, and it turns out you really are this smart, funny, interesting kind of guy."

"Come on," I said, unable to keep from smiling, "You're giving me a big head."

Linda relaxed her right arm, still swaying with the music, and pulled me in even closer. I felt my desire for this pretty woman rising inside me, and she said, "I haven't held a man in my arms for nearly a year." I had no answer for that, so she went on with, "Where are you staying at the moment?"

"Here in the hotel," I said. The thought that this could end with me taking her back to my room crossed my mind, but I dismissed it as wishful thinking.

"That's not far away," she said, now smiling, looking me in the eyes again. She looked down at the ground for a moment, and then back up at me, and she said, "Do you think you'd like to show me what your room looks like?"

"I could describe it for you," I said, and I moved my left hand to her back, so we were now holding each other, just standing in the half light of the balcony, as the music played inside, and I couldn't believe this was happening.

"I think I should see it first hand," Linda said, with a mischievous look on her face.

"I don't think I could describe it properly anyway," I answered, "so that might be a better idea."

Linda reached up, and put her right hand behind my head, pulling me towards her and kissing me on the mouth. Her kiss was warm and gentle, and it was certainly sexy, but it was also brief. It was more than enough to make me want more, and after breaking the kiss, she sighed, and in a breathy voice, she said, "I haven't done that for a long time, either." She kissed me again, holding the kiss a little longer this time, and then she said, "You've got me so I don't know if I'm trying to seduce you, or if you've already seduced me, Kevin," and she paused to swallow, and said, "but if you're any kind of gentleman, I think now would be a good time for you to take me to your room."

I still couldn't believe this was happening, but Linda and I walked back into the function room, to the bar, where I bought a bottle of champagne, and asked for two glasses. As Linda and I were leaving the function room, with the champagne in my hand, my friend Warren caught my eye from across the room, and he looked at Linda and shook his head at me in disbelief. We walked past the reception desk, and down the hall to my room, talking quietly, and smiling at the things we said to each other.

We found my room, and I unlocked the door and let Linda walk in ahead of me. She put her handbag on the side table, and took the champagne from me, without speaking, and she placed it, along with the glasses, on the table as well. She turned to face me, and leaned back with her hands against the table behind her, and for a few exciting moments, I looked at her, standing there, looking beautiful in that red dress, with her strawberry blonde hair, framing her lovely face, smiling, waiting for me to make a move. A lump came to my throat, as I took in what I saw, and as much as I wanted this woman, and as much as she had triggered a yearning desire in me, I was savouring that incredible moment.

"What are you looking at?" Linda said, smiling because she knew anyway.

"You and I are old enough to say what we think," I started, "so I'll tell you what I'm looking at. I'm looking at you, because you are absolutely beautiful, and I can't believe this is happening."

"Come on," Linda smiled, "now you're giving me a big head."

"No," I said, my voice reflecting the dryness of my throat, "Your head is perfect." I had to swallow before I could speak again.

"So," Linda said, cocking her head, with that amazing, mischievous, girlish smile of hers, "Are you disrobing me with your eyes?" It was as though she would be happy for me to do just that.

"Not yet," I answered, "You look so good with your clothes on, I haven't got that far. I like the idea of undressing you, though." Linda walked the few steps across to room to me, and placed her arms around my waist, holding my gaze, and she said, "Well, I'll need to be within arm's reach for that, won't I?"

I put my arms around Linda's shoulders, pulling her to me, kissing her, hot and hard on the mouth, holding the kiss, as the excitement washed through me, and as we broke the kiss, she reached behind herself, and moved my right hand to the zipper on her dress. Very gently, I unzipped her dress, feeling it loosen around her, and I placed the palm of my right hand on the smooth skin on the small of her back.

Linda responded by kissing me again, without speaking, and this time her tongue ventured forth a little, tentatively exploring my mouth. She broke the kiss, and I felt her warm breath on my face, as she sighed gently, and the very taste of her breath excited me even more. "Can we go and sit on the bed?" she whispered.

"Okay," I said, smiling, feeling a sense of wonder that fate had given me this moment.

"I'm a little self-conscious about taking off my dress," Linda said, "I'm not twenty years old any more, if you know what I mean." I wanted to tell her how beautiful her body was, and how it wouldn't matter to me if she wasn't perfect without her clothes on, but I didn't think she'd want to hear that. "Would you like me to look the other way?" I asked.

"What are you trying to do to me?" Linda giggled, "Don't you think I want you enough as it is?" She shook her head playfully, and said, "And now you want to show me you're caring and considerate as well? That's not fair. You'll have me writing your name all over my pencil case like a sixteen year old if this keeps up."

"What if you just turn your back to me?" I suggested, "Although I really don't think you've got anything to be ashamed of under that dress." I looked down at her creamy, smooth breasts, and back at her eyes.

Linda started to walk backwards towards the bed, with her arms around my waist, pulling me with her, making eye contact, and as her loosened dress fell slightly at the front, I saw she had a red lace bra underneath. "I've thrown myself at you shamelessly tonight," she said, quietly, "and you're still making me feel special. Are you always like this?"

"What you see is what you get," I said.

"And I like what I see," Linda answered. "So, I think you should help me get undressed, so I can take you to bed for a while." She pulled my face down for another soft and sexy kiss, and she said, "But you better be careful 'cause after we finish, I might drug you and hide you in my basement, so I can keep you all to myself."

"Have you got a basement?" I asked.

"No, that's where the plan falls down," she answered, "but I'm good at improvising, so watch out," and then she added, "Now, can you help me out with this dress?"

Very gently, I peeled Linda's dress away from her shoulders, and slipped it down at the front, exposing her red lace bra again. Her breasts were not large, but round and beautifully shaped, and her skin was smooth and fair. She stepped out of her dress, and placed it neatly on a chair beside the bed, slipped off her panty hose, and then she turned to look at me, standing now in just her red lace bra and matching bikini pants. I could see no reason for her to be ashamed of her unclothed body, because her curvy figure was still remarkably tidy, with only a few faint stretchmarks from bearing her children. I could also tell, though, that Linda felt a little uncomfortable standing there, practically naked, in front of me, and in a quiet voice, I said, "I'm glad you let me see you like that," as she looked up to make eye contact, "because you look so beautiful, I'm getting a lump in my throat."

"Have I given you any other lumps I should know about?" she asked, with that playful note in her voice again.

"We'll get to that," I replied, as she began to slip my jacket off. "You're starting to look a little overdressed," she said, and she placed my jacket neatly on the back of the chair as well. "If we go back to the reunion, we don't want them seeing our clothes all wrinkly, and getting ideas about what we've been up to," she said, as she smoothed out my jacket.

"Let 'em talk," I said, watching her, and then letting her remove my tie and unbutton my shirt, "I haven't seen any of them for twenty years, anyway."

"But I've got to live here," Linda replied, as she placed my shirt on the chair as well.

She turned back to me, and I took her by the shoulders and kissed her pretty mouth again, and as I broke the kiss, I said, "It's none of their business anyway."

With her face close to mine, Linda said, "And speaking of business, you and I have something to attend to." She lifted back the covers and slipped underneath, pulling them back over herself, and she said, "Are you going to join me?" I walked around to the opposite side of the bed and slipped off my trousers, before climbing in the bed, on Linda's left.

For a brief moment, I felt that butterflies in the stomach feeling, as Linda and I turned to face each other. Then, for one or two long seconds, we looked at each other, without speaking, as though we were each waiting for the other to make a move. Linda giggled, and "We've come this far, and suddenly I don't know what to do next. I must be out of practice." I slipped my right arm under her left shoulder, and rolled her over onto myself, as I lay on my back, so she was now lying half on top of me, on my right side. Our faces were close, and I said, "We're probably both a little out of practice, so we'll just have to feel our way through, won't we?"

"My two girls are sleeping over at my sister's place, so I'm a free agent, all night," Linda whispered, and she bit her lip for a moment, and swallowed, and then said, "And I like the idea of feeling our way round." With another girlish giggle, she said, "What would you like to feel first?"

I slipped my right hand around behind her, to unclip her bra, but after a couple of futile fumbles, Linda whispered in my right ear, "What is it with men and bra's?" and she reached around with her own right hand, and unclipped it in one movement. She raised her eyebrows at me, in triumph, as her bra loosened at the front, and I slipped her right arm out of her bra strap. Linda lifted herself a little, to allow me to slip her sexy red lace bra right off, and I tossed it on the floor to my left. For a moment or two, I took in the sight of her rounded, creamy, smooth-skinned breasts, with their light pink nipples and areola, and I gently moved my left hand under her, to fondle her right nipple with my thumb.

Linda looked at what I was doing, and said nothing for a moment, but as I gently stroked her nipple, she closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and kissed me, long, and deep, and she sighed the words, "I'm sensitive there, and that is so nice." She moved herself to a better position, and kissed me, with an open mouth this time, accompanied by some gentle, but incredibly sexy tongue action, as I gently fondled her nipple, and I brought my right hand around to caress the small of her back. Linda brought her right leg over, between my legs, so our pelvises were pressed together, even though she still had her panties on and, and I was still wearing my underpants, and as my rampant cock pressed against her right hip, she said, with our mouths almost touching, "And I'm not the only one getting excited."

I continued to gently caress Linda's nipple with my left thumb, and I moved my right hand down to her bottom, caressing her there through her lace panties, as she kissed me passionately on the mouth. I moved my hand a little further down, to the crotch of her panties, and I felt the warmth from her pussy through the material. Linda broke the hot, sexy kiss and whispered, "Let me take them off."




Remember Me?



Linda lifted her pelvis, and used both hands to slip her panties down, taking them off under the covers, and she tossed them onto the floor with her left hand. Linda was now totally naked in the bed with me, and I was wearing just my underpants. I moved my right hand back to her pussy, and I felt first her pubic hair and then her warm, slick wetness. I parted her pussy lips very gently with my fingers, and stroked her there, and Linda said, "You have a nice, gentle touch. I like that."

Linda's pussy was oozing fluid, and she bit her lower lip, and then took a deep breath, as I fondled her there for a moment. I took my hand away gently, and I brought it to my mouth. She watched intently as I tasted her sweetish, piquant juices from my fingers, and she took another deep breath, then kissed me hungrily, as though she too wanted to share the taste of her own womanhood.

"That was such a sexy thing for you to do," she whispered, as we broke the kiss, "You're making me so excited."

I slipped my right hand back down under the covers, down past Linda's bottom again, to caress her oozing pussy, parting the lips, and stroking her gently, and she moved her own right hand to my hard cock, fondling it through the material of my underpants. Linda narrowed her eyes, and took another deep breath in response to my caress, and she said, "Kevin, you can feel how wet I am, and I can feel how hard you are. I love foreplay, but let's just do this thing." She kissed me deeply, again, and sighed the words, "I can't wait any longer."

"I hope you weren't looking for an argument," I said, and I started to slip my own underpants off, and Linda gently helped me with her right hand. "Do you mind if I get on top?" she asked, "I'd just like to be in control for a bit, while I'm having my way with you."

"Go on," I answered, speaking softly, but almost exploding with excitement and anticipation, as Linda moved over on top of me, still under the covers. She braced herself with her left hand, and used her right hand to guide my rigid cock to her oozing pussy, wiggling and undulating her pelvis to get everything in place. As I felt the head of my cock touching the wet, slippery entrance to her pussy, she whispered, "Just like riding a bike. You never forget how." She moved her pelvis, taking about half of my cock in one slow, exquisitely exciting movement, and she added, "Although, I've almost forgotten how good it feels."

Linda began to move her pelvis gently, but with only half the length of my cock inside herself with each stroke, and she said, "You don't mind if I take it slowly and make this last, do you?" She took a soft but deep breath through her mouth, and said, "It's been so long, Kevin, I just want to take my time with you."

Almost instinctively, I wanted to thrust up inside Linda's warm, wet, inviting pussy, but knowing she wanted to do this at her own pace, I simply lay there, embracing her to myself, as she fucked me, sweetly and gently, moving her pelvis in short, shallow strokes, teasing and tantalising both of us with her beautiful body. "If you want to make it last," I said, pausing to swallow, "go ahead, we've got all night. There's no hurry." Linda didn't answer, and just moved her head down to kiss me deeply, her tongue doing some serious exploration of my mouth, fuelling my desire for her even more.

Linda took the weight on her elbows, and began to take the tiniest bit more of my cock inside herself with her gentle thrusting, and looking me in the eyes, she said, "Deeper?" I nodded, but she just kept moving the same way, taking no more, smiling so mischievously as she pleasured herself with my unyielding cock.

"Faster?" she said, her pretty eyes sparkling, as she began thrusting just a tiny bit more quickly, but no deeper, as I fought the need to push myself right inside. "Not too fast," I said, "You'll finish me off. I won't be able to control it," and I could hear the strain in my own voice.

"Oohh," Linda said, with a teasing lilt in her voice, "Mr Roberts might lose control! We can't have that," as she slowed her rhythm just enough to keep me below boiling point. She kissed me again, with another deep, sexy kiss, and said, "But, then maybe I'll be the one who loses control. You never know." I moved my hands down to her buttocks, just allowing them to rest there, so she was free to move the way she wanted, as I felt the smooth, warm skin against my palms, and Linda began to thrust a tiny bit deeper, taking more of me inside her snug, wet pussy, but still keeping the slow, gentle rhythm.

Linda kept up that sexy motion for a few more moments, kissing me deeply as she moved her pelvis, and after breaking one of her soft, deep kisses, she said, "I think it's time to get serious," and she swallowed, took a deep breath, lifted her pelvis so only the very tip of my cock remained inside the entrance of her pussy, and she thrust down hard, taking my whole cock inside with one movement. Her eyes widened, as she drove me into herself, and I tilted my pelvis for maximum penetration, and she made a little gasping sound, and said, "You saw that coming, didn't you?"

No," I said, "but I had a feeling you were going to do something like that."

"Ohh, yes," Linda breathed, "And I'm having some feelings, too," as she fucked me deeply, her snug pussy offering my hard cock a welcoming embrace with every thrust.

She had a nice, steady rhythm going now, as I kept tilting my pelvis to meet her, and I heard her take a slightly shuddering breath, and she said, "Kevin, I don't think I'm gonna last much longer. It's too good."

"That's okay," I said, moving my arms up her back, holding her close, but letting her keep that sweet movement going, "Just go for it." I pulled her head down to kiss her sweet, pretty mouth again, and she said, "Hold me Kevin. Hold me while I'm coming. Just hold me!"

Linda began to thrust harder, driving my cock right inside, breathing through her mouth, swallowing, gasping, and she said, a little louder now, and with an edge to her voice, "Oh, God, that's so good!" She lifted her head and focussed her eyes in the distance, thrusting harder and faster, and both her breathing and her thrusting became more ragged, as her orgasm approached.

Linda's beautiful body was giving me incredible sexual pleasure as it was, but seeing her on the threshold of her own climax, and knowing I would soon join her in an explosion of ecstasy, just ramped up my own excitement, but I held on, fighting the need to surrender to my own body's craving for sweet release. Linda's straightened her arms, lifting herself in the bed, still thrusting hard and deep, while I continued to hold her tight, and I saw a look of rapture on her face, as she cried out, "Ohhh, Kevin!! That is so good! That's a-mazing!!" I felt the walls of her snug pussy tightening around my cock, as her thrusting drove me as deep into her as I could go, and I gave in. Linda's lovely body was too good for me, and I could resist no longer. My own orgasm ignited in me, and I felt myself coming inside her, spurt after spurt, each one accompanied by a wave of pure, sweet pleasure.

For a few precious seconds, all I knew was the crystalline ecstasy that Linda had given to me, and as the moment passed, and reality returned, I realised she was still gently thrusting, making sure I was finished, seeing this wonderful thing she had started right through to the end. "All done?" she asked breathlessly, and I nodded, breathing a little heavily myself, so she stopped her thrusting, and kissed me once again, a little more gently this time, and then she relaxed, lying on top of me as I held my arms around her.

"That was beautiful," Linda said, still a little breathless, and she moved her head on my chest so she could look at me, and she said, "Just hold me for a minute. Just let me hold you." We both lay there like that for a few minutes, holding each other, with Linda lying on top of me, and we barely spoke, two people just enjoying the moment.

After a while, Linda looked at the bedside clock, and she said, "Well, Kevin, we can either stay here together, or go back to the reunion. What do you reckon?"

"There's a room full of people I haven't seen for twenty years," I answered, as I gently caressed her lower back with my right hand, "That's Option A." I used my left hand to brush her hair off her face, and I looked in her eyes and said, "Or there's you in here with me. I think I like Option B better."

We didn't get back to the reunion that night. Linda and I stayed in my room, talking, laughing, making love again, drinking champagne, and getting to know each other. We fell asleep in each other's arms, and in the middle of the night, we woke up to make love one more time. Once again, I felt a sense of wonder at this moment fate had given me, as I lay there, watching Linda as she slept, and I felt a pang of sadness that it would have to end.

Linda and I were two people who had known each other since kindergarten, but we hadn't seen each other since we were eighteen. Back then, we weren't friends, but now we had so much more in common.



Remember Me Ch. 01



A/N: My second try at a weaponry story. 

oOO

Summary: "You want me to save the world from my demented Ex-Boyfriend? You've got to be kidding me."

In a world full of choices, Dante has only a few. She just wants a peaceful, quiet, gunless life in the country where she can forget her bloody past. Forged passports, name changes, and isolation in the most remote landmarks in the world seemed to be the only way to live.

But then the past comes knocking at her door with an offer... in exchange for her services. Just one last mission along with the most eligible agents in Hime; including the mysterious Drake Valentine. One mission that will redeem herself and give her the chance to live in peace without being hunted 24/7...

How could she refuse?

Mature themes including genres of romance, action, and tragedy. Very loosely inspired from Resident Evil.

oOo

Chapter 001: Beginning of the end

oOo

Dante took a rugged breath as she turned over in bed. Thin rays of sunlight flickered through her dark curtains, dust particles floating amid thin air. Usually she would expect her alarm clock to start screaming murder right about then. But after she went on the run Dante had decided to get rid of unnecessary things.

Annoying mechanics being one of them.

But still, eight years of isolation didn't erase her habits. Even without a clock she usually woke at dawn. It was hard for her to get rid of her OCD tendencies as well after she ran off. She had literally needed to discipline herself to stop being a neat freak. 

If her former co-agents could see her now...

And like a light being switched on, Dantes drowsiness disappeared. In its place there was a bitter aftertaste of what could have been. She threw her covers off of her body, humid air basking over her, and slid her sun tanned legs over the bed.

'You can never let go can you?' She thought irritably as her feet made contact with the cool wooden floor of her bedroom. 

'It's like you take pleasure out of torturing yourself.' 

And it honestly seemed true. No matter how hard or long Dante tried, she couldn't keep the memories away. In fact, trying only seemed to emphasize her pain. 

Not bothering to freshen up in the bathroom of her small shabby house, Dante slugged her robe adorned body toward her bedroom door. The wooden planks creaked underneath her feet and the door similarly made the same sound as she opened it. She really hated loud noises.

Which was kind of ironic, since her field of work dealt with guns. Well, more like former field of work. It seemed like everything needed to have a 'former' pinned in front of it now. 

There was a time when she had been a normal girl. Well, as close to normal as someone like her could be. 

Dante had been born Dantrese Reed, the child of two normal as fuck bookstore owners living in the slums of Hime city. Despite how similar her parents were-Brown hair, brown skin, brown eyes, and a love for literature-, Dante had still preferred her ditsy mother over her control freak father. 

Sure Elka Reed hadn't been the sharpest tool in the shed. Despite being able to memorize the entire dictionary and even quote it word for word, she had been pretty dense in the social area. That had rubbed off on her daughter apparently, and for most of her life Dante had been the type to keep to herself.

It was a peculiar choice since in her small cyberpunk town everyone knew everyone. 

Still. No one really knew what went on behind her head, and so no one had really expected for Dante to sign up for the army and become a soldier. Needless to say, Dantes parents hadn't supported her in her dream to become a warrior for Hime. She had been on her own. 

Just like she was now.

Dante hummed quietly as she walked through her home towards the kitchen. It was a two story cabin like home, with the basic essentials. Living room, kitchen, bathroom, and a tiny bedroom that seriously needed to be refurbished. Not only was her house rotting old and reeking of essence oil, but it was in the middle of the Bahamud desert.

Miles away from Junsen city, the only populated area close enough for her to drive to without running out of gas. 

It was safe to bet that it was a normal occurrence for the house to have severe heat waves. And with a faulty air conditioning system, Dante usually had to have a desk fan nearby. And even that didn't help much. 

She should have just moved underground. Though the cons were there, Dante would have been safe and undetected...and she wouldn't even need air conditioning. 

Sadly it was out of the question, since with her experience as an agent she knew that underground facilities were constantly being checked by government services. Not only that but she was a nomad runaway. She was never in one area for too long, and underground homes were hard to travel to and fro.

They would have found her in a month.

Dante scratched at the bare skin that peeked beneath her skin tight camisole and stepped into the kitchen. It was half the size of her tiny bedroom and cluttered from the small old style shelves to the bloodwood counter-tops.

She honestly hated deep shades of red because staring at the color for too long made her eyes bleed. Well, not literally but it irritated her. It was one of the many reasons why she hated the house, because the walls, floor, and yes even the counters were made of bloodwood. 

It was like the fates were mocking her.

Grumbling to herself, Dante brushed stray strands of hair out of her eyes as she fumbled through the cupboards. Since becoming a runaway agent she hadn't been a heavy eater, and several a time she had checked her food supply only to realize she was low on munchables.

Including now, since all she saw in her cupboards and fridge was a small bottle of fruity cocktail and a box of oatmeal. Dust seemed to be her new roomate, since it was literally everywhere. And she hated oatmeal...

So much for a yummy breakfast then.

With a scowl Dante yanked the box of raw oats out of the cabinet and fetched a small pot to boil it in. She had never been picky with her choice of food, but some of the natives of Junsen had visited their new 'neighbor' to give her welcome gifts. Which so happened to be several bags of self grown groceries and homemade 'peace' quilts.

She'd eaten her fill of yogurt and fruit and hadn't seen the need to go shopping since the town was so far and it had seemed like enough food to last a lifetime at the moment. There had been so much her fridge had been overflowing for crying out loud. 

But now it was the complete opposite, and none of the natives had visited since then. Dante was pretty sure they had forgotten her. She wasn't a social butterfly after all, and despite their kindness they obviously still thought of her as a mysterious foreigner and no more. 

Just the way she liked it. If a government detective did so happen to find the small and remote town of Junsen, it was unlikely the natives would mention her. Her house was a tiny dot in the distance and as far as she knew, no one had lived in it for decades. For good reason. Who in their right mind would look for her there? 

Dante got her answer abruptly in the form of a loud knock on her kitchen door. The kitchen was at the very front of the house and donned one of the two only exits. Since her door had no window or peephole, Dante couldn't see who it was without opening the door. 

Glancing at the rifle that hung beside coat rack, Dante took a deep breath and turned the stove heat down. She looked down at her attire. She was showing alot of skin since her camisole and boy shorts weren't exactly modest. Her robe was ratty and her curls were unkempt. But she wasn't about to go through the trouble of changing her clothes. It was too hot for that.

Sighing, Dante turned toward the door and shouted for the person to hold on.

'It's probably just a native.' Dante thought silently as her ashy fingers fumbled with the lock.

When the door finally swung open, Dante quickly put on a fake smile and lifted her head to welcome whoever it was. Of course, when her eyes focused on the view in front of her, Dante froze in her tracks.

Several uniformed men stood before her on the dusty patio, their eyes hidden beneath dark tinted sunglasses. A large helicopter was planted a few yards off, and Dante briefly wondered how they landed without her hearing. 

And just as quickly as the thought came, it vanished as one of the men took a step forward. Dante felt her heart beat quicken at a rapid pace as she quickly tried to shut the door. But a large booted foot swung forward and lodged between the door and the wall, halting her attempt.

"Good morning Ms.Sandal, or should I say former Agent Reed." A deep voice called from behind the door. Dante swallowed a large lump that had formed in her throat.

Jessie Sandal had been her cover name when she transferred to Bahumad. There was only one way these men could know her real name. They had found her. Eight years of laying low and they had still fucking found her.

Her gun. She needed her gun.

"Who's asking for her?" Dante replied coldly as she pressed harder against the door with one arm and lifted her other to reach for the rifle. It was just inches beyond her reach. 

"Reed, I'd advise you to not ask questions. Remove your hold from the door and let us in. Failure to do so will require us to go by forceful means-" The voice went on. Dantes resolve snapped that very second.

"Not likely asshole! You tell the Hime Navy that I'm done being their puppet." And with that she summoned every ounce of her strength and slammed the door on the mans foot. She heard a howl and then curses as the foot slipped away, allowing the door to slam shut.

With rapid speed she locked the door and grabbed for her gun. The oatmeal forgotten, Dante sped through the house and toward her bedroom, which had the only other exit in the house.

It was more of a fire exit, but it led to a blind spot outside of the house. If she hadn't heard the men coming it was plausible to assume they had her place surrounded. The blind spot led to her car, and her car was the only ticket out of there.

Her only bet was to lose them, and the only way to do that was to get to the city and hide. She quickly threw her robe to the ground and grabbed for her jeans and boots. She couldn't very well run off in her pajamas. 

At that very moment she heard the door to her kitchen slam open. The sound of heavy footsteps echoed throughout the house, and she heard shouted orders to find and restrain her.

'Well. Fuck.' 

With no time to spare, Dante slung her purse over her shoulder and pushed open the fire escape. The heat of the desert sun stung her shoulders as she climbed out back first, rifle in hand. 

But the second she was safely out of the house and above the metal stairs leading to her car down below, Dante felt the cold barrel of a gun push against her neck. 

Her blood ran cold just as the uniformed men ran into her room, guns at attention. They spotted her instantly but froze when they saw who was behind her.

With her heart pounding a mile a minute, Dante slowly turned her body to face the perpetrator who had ruined her escape. Her jaw went slack and her expression filled with recognition when gray eyes met blue. Eyes that belonged to her former partner and co-agent.

The blue eyes of Elliot Brasker. And boy did he look furious. Despite the cold smile that adorned his pale lips, he didn't make a move to lower his gun. Even after Dantes rifle fell to the ground.

"Found you." 

oOo