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Reuniting with Lesley

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I’ve had a crush on Lesley ever since I met her, years ago.

We were in high school together, back in Pennsylvania. She had red hair down past her shoulders that shone in the sun, and hazel eyes that lit up with every joke we shared. Oh, did her laugh kill me, her laugh and the little freckles that spread across her cheeks and her shoulders. She was slender, with small but shapely breasts and a round little butt, tight and muscular from running track.

We were close friends, but despite my feelings for her, never more than that. We kissed once, after a party where we had both been drinking, and to this day I can recall the feeling of her lips pressed against mine, wet and warm and tasting slightly of Malibu rum. The next morning, over black coffee at the local diner, she apologized. She cherished our friendship, and loved me in her own way, and was sorry to have lead me on. That was all right with me: I cherished our friendship, too. And in fact, before we had kissed that night, I had been trying to hit on her friend Michelle, anyway.

Life went on, and we stayed in touch over the years, but you know how it goes. She went to Penn State, while I went to Columbia, so after high school we only saw each other briefly, over breaks. Then my family ended up moving out of state, while I fell in love with New York City, and so had less and less reason to go back to Pennsylvania. Weekly phone calls turned monthly, then turned to emails, with the gap between them growing farther and farther apart. She got married to some guy she’d met at college, and they had a couple of kids. I met a beautiful girl named Sara, and we lived together for a couple of years. I almost asked her to marry me, but before that happened she had a “quarter-life crisis,” quit her job and asked me very tearfully if we could live separately again for a while. She insisted it wasn’t a breakup, but in the end “a kaçak iddaa while” turned into “forever,” as we both pretty much knew from the start.

In the meantime, my professional life took quite the interesting turn. I worked in finance, but writing was always what I loved. In my free time, I wrote short stories and random articles for various blogs. For a while, I worked on a novel, a science-fiction story about time travel. It was published to average reviews and middling sales, and so I kept on doing what I was doing. But then some Hollywood producer got his hands on it and thought it would make a great movie, and I very gladly signed over the rights. They changed the title, half the characters, and the entire ending, and to be brutally honest the movie itself was kind of crap. But the credit still said, “Based on the book by” my name, and sales of the novel went way, way up. Up enough that I could finally leave my finance job and dedicate all my time to writing.

And that’s what eventually brought me and Lesley back together. My second book had just been published, and I was traveling all across the nation doing publicity. I was doing a reading-and-signing at a Barnes her perfect hourglass shape; her pale, soft skin; and her lush, red bush, trimmed around the edges but still natural and full.

She spread her legs wide, inviting me in. I hovered over her, kissing her deeply, squeezing and fondling her breast with my left hand while stroking her hair with my right. My cock teased her entrance, rubbing the wet folds of her slit with its engorged head.

“Oh fuck me, fuck me, fuck me,” she whispered.

Slowly, I pushed my dick inside her. She was so wet, I just slid right in with practically no resistance at all. She gasped in my ear as the tip of my cock bumped the wall of her vagina and dug her fingernails into my shoulders. We fit together perfectly. I had to stop, kaçak bahis I was so close to cumming right then and there. We remained still for a long moment, kissing each other gently, me inside her. After the danger had past, we started to move again. Ever so slowly I pulled out, until just the head of my cock remained inside her, then just as slowly I pushed back in. “Uhhhhnnn,” she moaned. Gradually I picked up the pace, thrusting faster, harder, and she began bucking her hips in rhythm with my thrusts. The slick walls of her cunt squeezed tightly on my cock as we fucked. She wrapped her legs around my ass, holding my body closer, pulling me deeper inside her.

“Ahhhhh! Ahhhh! Oooooh!” she cried out. Her wet pussy gripped me tight, and I could tell she was about to cum again. I lowered my head to a bouncing tit and sucked hard on a nipple as I fucked her hard and fast. “Oh yes oh yes oh yes!” she gasped. I dropped a hand to her hot soaking bush and strummed her clit with two fingers as my dick pistoned in and out.

“UUUHHHHHHHNNNNNGGGGGHHH!!!!!” she screamed, her face turning bright red. The dam had burst again, and hot liquid poured out of her sex, over my strumming fingers, dousing my own pubic hair while her vaginal walls gripped my cock like a burning hot vise.

And that was all I was about to take. I pulled out completely and slid my cock between her pussy lips, in that beautiful red bush. With a gutteral howl, I came, spraying gobs and gobs of white, sticky cum all over her cunt, her belly, her tits. The cum poured out of me like a firehose. I fell down upon her, kissing her over and over again, while pressed between our bodies my spasming penis spurted its last few drops.

We lay there for a while, panting, bodies covered in sweat and cum. After we had mostly caught our breath, she spoke.

“You know, it probably would have been okay for you to do that inside illegal bahis me. Good Lord!”

We laughed, and I reached over the side of the bed and picked up my abandoned boxer shorts. With the shorts I wiped the semen off her body, rubbing her belly and bush clean. I dropped the shorts back on the floor and flopped down on my back. She snuggled up to me, her arm around my chest, her face buried in my neck, her breasts pressed against my arm. I was in heaven.

“Why didn’t we do this years ago?” I wondered.

“We weren’t ready yet,” she said.

I put my arm around her and pulled her to my face, and we kissed again, deeply, tenderly. Holding each other tight, we lay there together.

After a minute, she rolled over and fiddled with the digital alarm clock.

“You know I can’t spend the night,” she said.

“I know,” I said.

“Fifteen minutes,” she said, and rolled back to me, kissing me, arms wrapped around me. I kissed her back and stroked her hair as she drifted off to sleep. I wanted to live in that moment forever.


I must have fallen asleep myself, because it seemed like no time had passed at all before that damned alarm clock began beeping, waking us both up. Lesley smiled and kissed me, then got out of bed.

“Stay with me,” I said.

“I can’t,” she said. “You know I can’t. I have to take a shower.”

She kissed me again, then padded off to the bathroom, leaving the door open. I heard her turn the water on, adjust the temperature, and get in. I lay there another minute, thinking, remembering. It was as if my whole life had been leading up to that night, and at last, everything I’d ever wanted was coming true. But she couldn’t stay. She had a family to go back to, a husband she was still technically married to. And it wasn’t as though I was staying in Philadelphia, either. I had to drive to Baltimore the very next day for another event, and then the day after that I was getting on a plane to L.A. to meet with my agent and a producer about another project. This would be the only night I’d have with Lesley for a long time.

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