History

February, 2003

The party is starting to break up, and Lynn is panicking. Her damn husband keeps managing to sneak off with his girlfriend, but with guests, kids who refuse to stay in bed, and the constantly-emptying food table, she has had no time alone with Aaron, Aaron is heading upstairs to get his coat, and more guests are headed for the door.

"Honey," she calls sweetly, trying not to let the edge creep into her voice.

Her husband sticks his head sheepishly around a corner. "Yes dear?"

"Can you please let people out for a few minutes? I have to go upstairs." With that she walks as fast as decorously possible up the stairs, entering the bedroom just as Aaron, his coat already on, is starting to leave. Lynn pushes him back, grabbing him, kissing him hard. He seems a little nervous but kisses her back. They will not be alone for long, they both know it, but it has been eight months since she kissed him last and ten years before that. She is not about to let this opportunity go over a little risk.

She is lost in the kiss, in Aaron's hands on her back and her ass and her head when she hears the tread of people on the stairs. Reluctantly she breaks away. Aaron, looking panicked, kisses her one more time and bolts for the stairs. She listens as he leaves, her husband thanking him for coming. Lynn sits, dejected, on the edge of the bed, remembering her last kiss with Aaron.

June, 2002

Aaron and Lynn stand in the narthex of the church, stand as though glued together, stand as the silence grows awkward around them, as her husband shifts from foot to foot, stand and remember together, all the friendly hugs, stolen kisses, and intense make out sessions in empty classrooms. the times in her apartment when she was supposed to be in Calculus, in the middle of the bare mattress on the bedroom floor wearing a long transparent red shirt unbuttoned, his head buried in her breasts licking chocolate sauce from her nipples while her boyfriend now husband waited for her outside a classroom miles away. But today is Tina's day and the first time, the time with Tina, is still her best and fondest memory.

Lynn giggles, a girlish giggle, a giggle ten years removed, giggles and buries her head in Aaron's shoulder to stifle the sound from her husband, a giggle Aaron remembers, that his cock remembers as it stirs to life against the almost-forgotten pressure of her leg.

"Find me" Aaron whispers. "Find me afterwards. At the reception."

"No," Lynn whispers back, too quiet, she hopes, for her husband to hear. "I can't" But then she stops, for her husband, for just a second looks like he is listening, before he sees a flash of white, of Tina in her wedding dress and spins around to see more. "No, wait" she continues, hugging tighter, "I meant to say 'No, I can't wait.' I need you by me. Sit with us. Sit with us now, during the service."

They sit together in the pew, Aaron, Lynn, and her husband, Lynn's left hand holding Aaron's right hand out of sight of her husband.

They dance together after dinner, fitting together perfectly, cheek to cheek. And when her husband is otherwise mentally occupied, staring longingly at Tina, still pixyish in her long white dress, they manage to sneak outside for a long, groping fondling kiss, her hands down his pants and his hands up under her dress, stroking each other hard until she comes, shuddering, remembering their first time together.

March, 1992

It is as incredible and as awesome a fuck as she has ever experienced, as good as Tina promised. It goes on and on, orgasm after orgasm, shock after shock. Lynn had not believed her, had not believed this short, kind of cute, prematurely balding goofy little former class clown was the sexual athlete he claimed to be, even when Tina had backed him up during one of those low-voiced, slightly tipsy, looking out for the boyfriends, trying to create a sense of intimacy party conversations which Lynn had enjoyed guardedly.

Lynn feels herself coming again, looks up at Aaron grinning down at her, still a little goofy but mostly just determined, enthralled, grooving on her pleasure. She arches her back against the cushions of the couch and drives her heels into his back, urging him on. The wave comes over her, disorganizing her, flooding her with emotions, bringing tears to her eyes of joy and gratitude for life, for sex, for Aaron, and for Tina.

Aaron is grinning down at her. He lowers his head to kiss her and she barely manages to raise up, meeting him half way, eyes closed, lip against lip and tongue briefly against tongue before her head flops down and to the right, unable to think or move.

But within what seems like seconds, Aaron is moving again, his long thick cock, longer and thicker than her boyfriend's, longer and thicker than she ever would have believed on a young man only an inch or two taller than herself, longer and thicker than she had imagined he was claiming when he had bragged he was hung like a horse, sliding in and out of her very wet cunt. Lynn, her head still turned to the side, opens her eyes again in disbelief at his stamina and smiles a weak and satisfied smile at Tina, who is still sitting in the easy chair on the other side of the coffee table, naked, legs spread wide, fingering herself and pinching her nipples.

Their eyes meet, and lock, as Tina's hands move fast and furious between her slender hips and across her small high perky breasts. "Thank you" they both gasp as one. Lynn, so overwhelmed by endorphins that she will experience random emotions for the next week, begins to laugh. It is all so wonderful, so far beyond her every day experience and her understanding of propriety, boundaries, and relationships, that she can do nothing else.

Aaron, spurred on by how far gone she is, begins to fuck her even harder than before, or before, or before, or before, pounding in to her, scrunching her whole body up around his cock with each thrust, her breasts jiggling wildly. She does not close her eyes this time, or look at Aaron, but continues to stare at her beautiful new friend, who is staring back intently, eyes still clear and blue, hands still moving, leaning forward into the six foot gap between them, as close as she can get to Lynn and still "just sit over there."

But in this new reality Lynn has forgotten, or perhaps never remembered why she has resisted the advances of this wonderful gorgeous young woman for so many months, this vision of purity who has loaned her Aaron, her awesome young sex toy, who has brought her pleasure beyond her wildest dreams. Lynn laughs again, smiles, reaches out her right hand, and beckons.

Tina, the ballerina, is up and over the coffee table kneeling beside Lynn and kissing her deeply and passionately in one fluid motion that Lynn will remember for the rest of her life every time a man is fucking her. Without hesitation Lynn slides her beckoning hand between Tina's legs, cupping her sopping cunt with her palm, rubbing Tina hard as she rubs herself on frustrated nights while her boyfriend sleeps and snores and probably dreams of Tina. Poetic fucking justice this, and it is all too much for Aaron. He has finally lost control himself, all sense of rhythm, it is just random wild pounding, pounding against her hips, against her clit, blood throbbing in her temples, Tina's tongue in her mouth, Tina tensing, Lynn, coming again, legs waving, Aaron coming, pumping his seed into her, Tina coming hard, soaking Lynn's hand with her juices.

Then silence, and exhausted panting.

Aaron, still buried to the hilt in Lynn, looks at the two naked, panting, dark haired blue-eyed women, short and tall, curvaceous and slender, pale and tan; watches them kiss, again, gently this time, and tender; then throws back his head and howls in triumph, as the girls break off their kiss, throw back their heads, and howl in triumph with him.



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