Help
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Times Passed
An out of the blue phone call leads to her sitting at a café where she agreed to meet him. She was an hour early, which attested to her nervousness since she was almost always late to everything.
It had been almost a year since their divorce and she found herself really thinking about him in a way she hadn’t in a long time. His phone call had shocked her and she had said yes to this meeting without really considering it, or the repercussions that may come of it.
She remembered when she first met him; how shy he always made her feel. She smirked as she thought about how quickly she had gotten over her shyness. A flash of being slammed against a wall and his lips crushing hers echoed throughout her mind. She nudged the thought away and tried to refocus her thinking.
She picked up the salt shaker from the middle of the table and rolled it between her thumb and forefingers. Try as she might, she could not help but get lost in that one evening in her past.
For several hours he had been working in the garage on that beat up old truck they had bought. She had already done the dishes and was folding laundry in the bedroom when she noticed him standing in the doorway.
Grease covered his hands along with a smudge on his left cheek. His golden eyes were unusually bright that night. Whether from the beers he had consumed, the satisfaction of making progress on the truck or because of his sudden burst of lust for her, she couldn’t really say.
She walked towards him, smiling fondly with her love for him. “You’re dirty,” she says with amusement.
He gave no verbal reply as he grabbed her, slamming her against the wall. In an instant his mouth covered hers. The flavor of beer assailed her senses as his tongue assaulted hers. She kissed him back fiercely, passionately, growing excited by his obvious desire for her.
She dropped the salt shaker, startling herself out of her thoughts. She blushed as she realized what she had been thinking and where she was.
Wiping the spilled salt off the table, she looked up flustered at the waiter who had just appeared before her.
“May I get you anything while you wait for the other half of your party? A drink perhaps?” he asked nicely.
“A cup of tea would be lovely,” she replied. The waiter nodded and left to do her bidding.
She mentally shook her head at herself and wondered why she wasn’t in better control of her thoughts. She looked at her clasped hands on the table in front of her and noticed how shaky they were. She silently told herself to calm down, that she has nothing to be nervous about. She once shared her life with this man, after all. For more than ten years. Absolutely nothing to be nervous about.
He made a trail with his lips to her neck. Goose bumps prickled her flesh and her nipples tightened with need. He ripped open her blouse, ruining it, but she didn’t care. Feeling his hands on her aching breasts seemed like the most important thing in the world at that exact moment.
Clumsily he unsnapped her bra, freeing her breasts from the confines of their cloth jail. As her bra fell to the floor, he lifted one breast to his mouth greedily, marring her pale skin with streaks of grease.
She felt his hardened cock straining against her stomach and she hungered for the feel of him inside her. Yet she kept from begging and instead moaned her need towards the ceiling.
Her tea was placed before her and she focused her eyes on the steam rising from the delicate cup.
“May I get you anything else, ma’am?”
“No. Thank you. That will be all,” she whispered hoarsely without looking up.
The waiter again left her alone and she closed her eyes tightly, trying desperately to regain her composure. She opened her eyes, steadied her hands and reached for her teacup. Allowing the steam to waft into her face, she once more lost herself.
He knelt before her, tearing at the buttons on her jeans. Eagerly he pulled them over her hips and pushed them down her legs, taking her panties with them. More clothes ruined by grease, but neither one cared. All that mattered was their lust and satisfying it.
With her pants out of the way, he pushed her legs apart and buried his face between them. She cried out as his tongue slipped in between the folds of her pussy to graze gently against her clit. He sucked at her clit bringing misty tears of passion to her eyes. She panted breathlessly as he pulled at her with his lips, the roughness bringing her to a whole new heightened level of pleasure. Alternating between sucking and nibbling brought her juices flowing onto his tongue.
She sipped her slightly cooled tea and wondered why she was doing this to herself. Why she was torturing herself with these images. Was there some point in remembering that she just doesn’t yet understand? She took another sip of her tea, draining the cup of its contents. Her throat felt dry, her heart ached. A constricting rein of hurt bound her just as effectively as ropes would have. She refilled the cup from the teapot her waiter had brought. She watched the amber liquid splash and swirl into the white china. She floated.
He slowly rose as she clung to him on shaky legs. Again he kissed her and she could now taste herself along with the beer on his tongue. Her eyes closed as she allowed herself to be intoxicated by his love.
Gently he lifted one of her legs and eased his cock into her warm wetness. He drove in deep and her reply was a gasp of ecstasy in his ear. He pulled out slowly, only to plunge back within her. Each thrust slammed her ass into the wall behind her. She clung to his shoulders as sweat poured down her back and in between her breasts. Her gasps for breath mingled with his, creating a symphony of the winds.
Each pump from his hips made her feel closer to him, closer to herself. Made her feel immortal. Made her feel like a Goddess. Here, doing this, fucking him… the world revolved only around what she was feeling.
Her orgasm resonated throughout her, like ripples in a pond. One after another they crashed, wave upon wave of pleasure upon her, until she thought she could bear no more. Just as she was on the verge of collapsing from pleasure overload, he came inside her with one final thrust and a loud roar. He stilled.
“Wow, what got into you?” she asked in awe when their breathing had calmed and he was pulling out of her.
“It probably won’t ever happen again, so savor it,” he replied hastily as he headed to the bathroom.
Somehow she had kept herself from being irreparably hurt by that statement. She just checked it off as another one of his many quirks.
As she sat there in the café she realized something. That was the only promise he had ever kept to her. A single tear rolled down her smooth cheek and splashed onto the table. She looked towards the front of the café, her eyes bright with emotion. She watched him walk in through the front door and towards the seating podium.
Quickly she gathered her purse and her keys and slipped out the back door. She had already given him more than ten years. Ten years to love her, ten years of building a life together, ten years for him to try and make good on everything he had promised her. In the end… he divorced her. He failed her.
She slid into the driver’s seat of her car, knowing she made the right decision. He didn’t deserve one minute more.
8/31/07
~Blue
Posted 23 October 2007 - 06:58 PM
