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Subject: {ASSM} New Story -- submitted for posting
Date: Tue, 18 Apr 2000 04:10:05 -0400
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The Final Tryst
by Babs B.
"Here's the pics you always wanted," I say with a grin pushing the photos
across the table. You glance at me smiling and look carefully at each shot.
Then you take out your reading glasses, flash me another grin, and look at
each of them, carefully, again. As you look I laugh inside remembering how
when we first met you didn't want to let me know that you needed glasses,
probably thinking that they made you look too old. So you would just order
whatever the waiter recommended and we would pretend that your myopia didn't
exist. How silly we were. How comfortable now.
*****
"They're lovely," you say after examining each one thoughtfully. "Bet you
can guess which one I like best, huh?" I can't help but laugh out loud which
makes you laugh too. Getting into our playfulness I reply, "Could it be the
one where my backside is totally exposed?" And I recall how that's always
been your favorite position as well as, possibly, your favorite part of my
body. But the joy I'm presenting on the outside doesn't match the pain on
the inside. You seem not to notice and laugh aloud, "Yep, you got it, babe.
Perfect." You had always asked for naked pictures of me but I could just
never bring myself to have them made. Now, at our parting, I bring them to
you, a final gift. "Thank you," you say sincerely, and slip the photos
gently into the pocket of your shirt.
*****
"Remember how we sparred at first?" you ask. I nod smiling. Of course, I
do, recalling how in the beginning we were jockeying for position,
bantering, feeling and scrutinizing each other, seeing if this could be a
match. I was checking to see if you would stand up to me - would balance my
assertive energy - not back down - and I had almost scared you away!!
Almost, but not indeed as you sensed a woman who could equal your vim and
vigor - a woman who could give as well as she got and who would be there for
what you needed and wanted. We had already done the preliminaries on the
internet and on the phone, but then, face-to-face, we did the final
investigation to see if the chemistry was right. And for us and our alchemy
that required some tussling.
*****
"I bet I know which is your favorite memory," I say confidently. "Well,
now, sweetie," you reply raising your eyebrows with a grin, "you mean I have
to pick ONE?" And we both laugh. I continue, "It was the time I got to our
room first. I was undressing, getting myself ready for you, putting on that
hot pink satin short number with the spaghetti straps." Your eyes are
opening wider as you remember. "Only I didn't have time to finish my
preparation before you came in," I say. Now your grin has turned into a
broad smile. You interrupt, "As I recall my plan was to sit down and have a
long conversation with you --only when I saw you -- half naked -- I -- well,
I - " "You were overcome with lust!" I laugh completing the sentence for
you. You lower your eyes, smiling, that fond memory making your heart leap.
"At my age to think that I had never made love before with my pants around
my ankles! I couldn't even wait to get undressed. I just HAD to be in you
and on you," and I notice that you're licking your lips as you, even now
after all this duration, get excited just thinking about that time.
*****
A part of me feels like tears will fall from my eyes as I ache inside
recalling the past and knowing what's going to happen, but I don't cry. I
maintain the fa ade I've practiced so carefully in front of the mirror these
past few days. "How about that boat trip we made around the bay," you begin
and as you relate the story you become animated, moving your arms and hands.
"The hydraulics went out on the steering and we were going round and round
in little circles. I had to take control of the boat by using the forward
and aft engines and it took quite a bit of energy to keep her on course.
And you were laughing the whole time!!" And I am laughing again now, as you
recall every detail. "That was a LOT of work. I don't know if you
appreciated all my efforts," you continue with a mocking seriousness. "I
was sweaty and exhausted when we finally returned to port." "Yes," I chime
in. "It was a good thing we had had sex before we left the dock because I
don't know if I could have stood you all dirty and dank," I giggle. You nod
your head remembering how all you had wanted to do before the trip was play
with my breasts, but we were overcome with passion and, well, one thing just
lead to another.
*****
"Remember that day in the wine country?" I ask as you shake your head with
in a big grin. "How could I forget," you reply thoughtfully. "How many
people buy five bottles of sake on a trip to the WINE country?" And we both
laugh talking about how we traveled from winery to winery, tasting but not
buying. Then, just before we were to return home the only brewery left was
one that made sake. How funny that seemed at the time, and it even seems
sillier now. And for an instant I wish we were reliving that joyful
episode.
*****
"I know the hardest part for me was when you were in Penang for over 12
weeks setting up that new branch office," I start. "I remember kissing you
good-bye and having you tell me it would be three weeks at most. And then
how upset I was when your return kept being delayed because you kept running
into all those problems." "Ah, yes, but the letters," you mention with a
smile. "Our letters. Your letters. They were soooo good," you continue
nodding. It's as if you don't want to talk about that memory. I think
that's because when you do, that part of the world triggers your visions of
the horrors of war that you experienced there and your mind is haunted by
what you had to do to survive. But for me it is the sadness I felt being
separated for so long - and then I realize the separation this time will be
much, much, much longer....
*****
Suddenly you begin to laugh. "What?" I ask. "Oh," you say laughing
louder, "I was just remembering that time -- ha, ha, ha -- when we were
69ing it and you got all excited and you really wanted me to fuck you and
you scooted down and said something like, 'Take me from behind, baby. Fuck
me.' The only trouble was, there you were over me, PINNING my legs and me
to the bed." You're really laughing now making me join in your mirth. I
continue, "As I recall, you tapped me on the butt" -- and I move my hand in
a tapping motion in front of me -- "you tapped me on the butt and said, 'Uh,
'scuse me, ma'am. I'd really like to participate here, but my DICK ISN'T
THAT LONG.'" Then we're both laughing -- loudly -- perhaps too loudly,
because the couple at the next table glances over at us. You lower your
voice slightly. "Yeah, the VIEW was FANTASTIC, but I couldn't accommodate
you," you snicker. "He just ain't that big, babe." And then our hands are
touching each other across the table and we're smiling, remembering that --
to us -- hilarious incident in our shared history together. One I know each
of us will treasure forever.
*****
We have agreed to this. We are civilized people. We know the psychobabble
jargon like "closure" and so we have decided this is the right way to do it.
And it is. But somehow I wonder if it wouldn't have been easier if we
could have stood in a room and shouted mean, hurtful things to one another,
me throwing a plate at you and you raising your hand and pounding forcefully
on a table. <<But that's not us,>> I think. <<But then again, there will
no longer be an 'us,'>> and for the first time today a tear squeezes out of
the corner of my eye.
*****
"Let's go to our room," you say smiling, looking at me carefully. I nod
and we get up and walk slowly to the elevators. As we do I am remembering
and you are as well, I'm sure, the times we've rushed to this spot,
sometimes not even wanting to wait for the elevators and dashing up the
stairs instead. This time though, our pace is careful as if each step
should be treasured. You reach out and take my hand and bring it to your
mouth for a kiss while glancing at me sideways, tenderly. You push the
button and we wait patiently for the doors to open. When they do we move
out of the way, you on one side and me on the other, to let the people off.
Facing each other we watch as a happy couple exits. She's giggling
joyfully and he's laughing aloud, his arm around her shoulder and her arm
around his waist, and we stare at one another, remembering when that was us.
*****
We are the only ones on the elevator. My heart aches when I remember the
times we've started foreplay here, the rush of the ascending lift pushing
the blood to our loins and making it impossible for us to keep our hands off
one another. This time -- this last time we will ride together -- you look
at me and tip your head to one side as the doors close. I push aside the
pangs of early grief and melt into your embrace. We don't kiss. We only
hold one another, close, eyes shut, experiencing the inevitable surge as we
are hoisted into the air. I grab hold of you even more tightly. Can it be
that I am trying to hold on to more than your body? Am I trying to retain
what is -- what was? And your embrace too seems stronger -- possibly
stronger than you have ever held me.
*****
As we stroll down the hall to our room, I can't help but notice our
measured paces. How many times have we raced down this hall? Too many to
count. This time there is no hurry; there are only calm, deliberate steps.
You fumble with the key. <<Why do you ALWAYS fumble with the key?>> I
think to myself, annoyed but laughing at the same time. At least THAT
hasn't changed I chuckle - as I wonder if this remnant of our cherished
moments together will stay with me.
*****
Inside I almost lose it, but I grab hold of myself. Everything looks so
perfect. You've taken care with every detail. You move over to the small
stereo you've brought, and you push the button. Sarah McLachlan's
seductive, sensuous voice fills the room. Our music, our diva, our room.
It's not really dance music, but you take me into your arms and we try to
find the beat, rocking back and forth. And for the first time I feel your
warm breath on me as you tenderly kiss and nuzzle my neck, knowing so well
how much that action will never fail to arouse me. We separate. There on
the table in a bowl of hot water is a bottle of sake, a remnant of our trip
so long ago. We just smile at one another -- no words -- each of us
recalling again that joyful jaunt. You pour us each a glass. "Here's to
us," you announce raising your glass high. I mimic you. But then instead
of immediately drinking somehow we both know to link our arms, our hands
still holding our glasses. Only then do we sip, our arms intertwined and
our eyes watching one another. "To us," I repeat trying to sound cheerful,
but all I can manage is a weak smile that belies the voice in my head that
says, Don't let him go.
*****
The bedspread is thrown over a chair and the covers are turned down, the
pillows fluffed. You lower yourself, sitting on the edge of the bed and pat
the spot beside you. "Come 'ere, darlin'," you instruct and, of course, I
come to you. "Got somethin' for you too," you say with a laugh as you whip
out a small, gray box. There inside is a pair of earrings - 14K Gold studs
in the shape of hearts with two tiny diamonds. The tears start to fill up
my eyes, but I am afraid to let you see. So I just stare at this lovely
gift and say how beautiful they are and how they're so perfect and how much
I like them and how grateful I am that you could pick something so perfect.
But mostly there are so many words because if I don't say them then there
will be sobbing and tears, which I could not bear to do right now. I take
off the pair I'm wearing and put on your gift. Then I get up to gaze at
myself in the mirror. My eyes look a bit glassy from the tears I haven't
been able to hold back, but I continue to babble on hoping that you won't
notice. And I know that each time I wear this priceless gift I will
remember this moment.
*****
You lie back onto the bed and sigh. Your feet are still on the floor;
you're staring at the ceiling; your arms are out to your sides as you say,
"Oh, Babs. Oh, sweet, sweet, sweet, Babs," and you let out another sigh.
And then there's silence. I want to hear more words. I want you to say
you'll change. I want you to tell me you will make it be the way I need it
to be -- for me. I wish more than anything else that you would make some
witty remark, about the future, our future. But there is only the sound of
Sarah's soft voice chanting, "...i will remember you, will you remember me?
don't let your life pass you by, weep not for the memories, remember the
good times we had? ... i'm so tired but i can't sleep, standin' on the edge of
something much too deep, it's funny how we feel so much but we cannot say a
word, we are screaming inside, but we can't be heard, i will remember you,
will you remember me?...."
*****
In the beginning our lovemaking was like a fawn learning to walk,
awkward but charming and beautiful at the same time. Now it has become the
dance of experienced lovers, each of us knowing what the other needs and
wants to make the ballet a success. I lie down next to you and slowly
unbutton your shirt, rubbing my hands over your chest. You love that
gesture, sometimes placing my hand there for some gentle stroking afterwards
- after our passion has been spent. Now I begin there, moving my hands
carefully through your curly chest hair. How wonderful, I've always thought,
that you love that action and get as much pleasure from it as much as I do.
I carefully remove your shirt and gaze at the beauty before me. Your
smooth, healthy skin, your firm muscles that are so well toned but not
bulky, the curly, soft, gray chest hairs, and I gently bend down to kiss
this part of your body that I love so much.
*****
"I want to give you a massage," I begin. "Slip out of those pants." You
obey and lie back down on the bed. I tell you to scooch up on the bed, and
then I smile as I remember the first time I told you to "scooch" and you
said, "Huh?" Now you just move yourself further up so your head is on a
pillow. "Roll over," I say. "I want to begin on your back." So you do. I
slip out of my clothes except for my bra and panties, take up the bottle of
massage oil, which you have so carefully placed on the nightstand in a bowl
of hot water to warm it, and pour some oil onto your back. My movements are
long and slow as I caress your back, relishing in its every nuance. The
smell of almonds fills the room and I can hear your breathing coming in
slow, measured sighs. Your arms are crossed under your head and your eyes
are closed and I can feel the tenseness in your strong muscles lessening as
I work. "Gee, you keep that up and I'll be so relaxed we won't be able to
do anything else," you tease. I give you a little slap on the butt and pour
some oil over your lower body.
*****
I've always liked your butt. You joke about how small, but firm, it is.
It's a man's butt, I think to myself laughing. Hairy, little muscles,
almost no fat, and small. It hardly sticks out at all when you stand, so
insignificant and inconsequential to your frame. So different than mine. I
massage it lovingly, kneading it, loving the way it moves when you're using
it to thrust your hips to me. And I find myself getting aroused thinking
about how well you do that.
*****
I straddle you facing your feet and begin long, firm strokes all along your
beautiful legs, leaning over as I go to let my breasts, still within my bra,
touch you lightly. I wonder if you notice. Each time I run my hands along
your legs I pause stretched out over you, my hands rubbing your feet. Then
I sit upright again and begin another caress. I am enjoying the movement
and on the final stroke I lie down on top of your legs, and hold them
tightly. How many times have I lain here, I wonder, relishing in the feel
of your body all along mine? I close my eyes and urge my mind to remember
how wonderful this feels.
*****
"Front side," I announce getting up to let you roll over. You're feeling
pretty relaxed and you leisurely turn over letting out a very big yawn.
"Oh, sorry to boooore you," I tease. And before I continue with your
massage I can't help but tickle you, flexing my fingers all along your
sides. You grab me and playfully throw me over you onto the bed. "Want to
frolic, huh," you say as suddenly more awake you wrestle with me returning
every tickle two fold. I'm wiggling actively and trying to continue to get
you, but you're definitely getting the better of this tussle. I'm a pretty
strong woman and put up a pretty good battle and I probably couldn't out
scuffle you anyway, but -- well -- perhaps I don't really want to win. And
I relish how wonderful it feels to have you over me, clasping my hands above
my head, breathing heavily, a fire in your eyes. The conqueror, you reach
your head down and give me a hard, powerful kiss of victory, beginning with
closed lips that are soon apart, pushing my lips apart with your tongue and
lips, entering me as I pretend to resist still. Then my soul reaches up to
you, and I return your kiss with a vigor that matches yours. It's a kiss
that says, 'Take me. I want you more than I have ever wanted you.' And as
you release my hands, I wrap my arms around you and grab hold of you tightly
as you return the grasp. I can feel your dick hard against my leg and I
lift my head up off the bed to get another kiss, but now it's your turn to
tease. "Nope. Not yet," you exclaim. "You have to finish my massage
first," and grinning broadly you release me and flop over onto your back.
*****
I am breathing very hard in anticipation of what I thought was going to be
immediate sexual activity and it takes me a moment to compose myself. And I
remember how many times in the past you've done this to me/with me. It's
been in a different form and sometimes in a different place, but it's been
the same. I wonder if you learned it from a book somewhere, or if you
learned it from experience, or if it's just some innate wisdom you have.
The knowledge that for a woman it's often the journey to the "climax" that's
as important as the act itself. That arousing me and then letting me back
down and then arousing me again - and again - can make me like a hungry
tigress greedy for her prey. And I wonder, my heart heavy, if I will ever
have as good a lover again who practices this skill.
*****
I return to my task of giving you a massage while my breath is still coming
more rapidly and deeper than I would like. With you lying on your back, I
begin with your feet, adding a little oil and working it in. I am enjoying
the feel of your skin beneath my fingers and I close my eyes trying to
imprint on my brain this tactile sensation of your body. I remember when
you told me the very first time we were together that feet were important to
you - and how much you liked mine - nicely shaped, healthy skin, no
calluses, well groomed, painted nails. And I remember looking at yours and
thinking how pretty they were for a man's feet. 'It's a match,' I had
giggled to myself wondering if you said those words too.
*****
I notice that my breathing has become more regular as I work on your legs -
adding the warm oil and rubbing gently, relishing the feel of your skin. I
think how great it is that I am getting as much enjoyment from this as you
are. As I move up to your hips, you're watching me, no doubt wondering what
I will do. I look at you - a silly, sly smile on my face - and you smile
back. I tip my head to one side and we both wonder whether I will continue
by pouring warm oil on your cock. We don't take our eyes off one another
-- staring. I straddle your legs and hold the bottle as if to pour, but I
don't turn it over far enough. It stays suspended over you. Still we watch
one another. Your grin gets bigger and I suspect mine does as well. Our
stare almost becomes a glare -- each daring the other to blink. Your grin
gradually turns into a smile with your teeth showing, and still you look at
me. I notice from my peripheral vision that your dick is beginning to stir
- enjoying this game. "Welllllllllll, darlin'?" you drawl. "Yesssssssss?"
I hiss, and by now I notice your dick is beginning to swell. And still we
just gaze at one another. My turn to tease now. I move my arm forward and
the warm oil pours onto your tummy, our eyes still locked. I lean over and
never taking my eyes from yours I begin to rub the oil over your belly. I
notice how your cock would like some of this tender attention, but I do not
oblige. You're the one who blinks. Actually you close your eyes, take a
deep breath, and I see your body relax a bit as I massage your upper body.
You had been so ready - prepared to pounce if I had wanted it - but now
you're content to let me finish and I am glad you have because I don't want
to miss any part of this ceremony.
*****
As I lean over you for the second time to massage your shoulders and neck,
I feel your hands along my sides and back. I close my eyes temporarily to
enjoy the feel of your caress. And smoothly you undo my bra to let my
breasts hang loose. I remember how the first time we were together you had
given me my first orgasm just by playing - gently and tenderly and lovingly
- with my breasts, your hands and your mouth endlessly stimulating me until
my pussy was dripping and I could wait no longer. And I wonder to myself
how many men know - like you - how closely a woman's tits are linked to her
cunt and how the right attention there can win her heart. "Kiss me, hun,"
you say as you carefully fondle my breasts. And without hesitation, of
course, I do, loving the feel of your lips, the taste of your tongue.
*****
"Your turn," you declare pushing me over onto my back. You take up the
bottle of oil and pour it over my tummy. "You have great skin. It's sooooo
soft," you say gently and I know you mean it because you have said it to me
so many times in the past. As you massage my upper torso I close my eyes
and relish the feel of your touch. You massage my tummy, my shoulders, my
arms and, of course, my breasts. Soon my nipples are becoming harder from
all your attention. Only then do you lean down and lick them - long, slow,
juicy licks. And you suckle softly, murmuring.
*****
You turn your attention to my legs and feet and I realize how wise you were
to take that massage class years ago, because you know how to apply just
enough pressure and how to stroke my muscles until they're practically
calling your name in ecstasy. Then you straddle my legs and pull my
panties down a little bit. Pouring oil there you begin rubbing my belly
over and over. By now my entire body aching for you and you somehow sense
that but don't rush anything. I long for you to tear my panties off and
take me, but the wisdom you've gained over the years serves you well as you
lean over an kiss my belly and instruct me, "Turn over, babe."
*****
The feel of your hands on my back is like a welcome hug after a stressful
day, your touch washing away all cares. And the strokes to my thighs and
calves makes me long for you to be between them. Only then do you ever so
carefully remove my panties and as you do you begin kissing every spot of
skin that becomes exposed. Then you begin kneading my ass. You've always
liked doing that but his time you do something you have never done before.
You begin kissing while rubbing, covering every inch of my butt. It's like
you're savoring every detail, wanting to remember what it looks like and the
feel of it in your hands and mouth. And as you continue your movements I am
aware how arousing your actions are. How incredibly sensual that feels. As
you linger there longer than you ever have before, I begin wishing you had
done this to me sooner - many times - because I did not know how exciting
your deeds could be. I didn't realize how many nerve endings were in this
area that would have responded so favorably to your hands moving firmly and
for so long, with little accompanying love bites.
*****
And by now - of course - my every pore, my every millimeter of skin, my
every nerve ending truly aches for you to finish the job. And once again -
one last time - I am totally yours. As you spread my legs I surrender to
you, sighing deeply as your hard cock enters me. Part of me wishes I could
delay this orgasm, but I can't - I never have been able to - when you get me
to this point. And as my body tenses and my pussy convulses, I see you
smile. You remove your cock and move your face to my pussy, lapping up my
juices, licking every crevice, and sliding your arms under my butt. As you
continue your mission I raise my hips up to you and you suck my clit making
me cum yet again, this time crying out as my legs begin to shiver
uncontrollably, grabbing hold of your head.
*****
I am trying to catch my breath when you're over me again, your hard cock
filling me up, and I am certain that if there is a heaven it must have a
part like this. Your lunges are hard and forceful and my body responds in
kind by rocking in sync with your thrusts until once again I sense the sweet
agony of release washing over me. Sensing what is happening you let
yourself explode into me, filling my pussy fuller of cum than she's ever
been while she milks the sweet nectar from your throbbing pole. We pause
for a moment, my arms around you rubbing your sides and strong shoulders.
As I wrap my legs around your hips, I feel your body relax as you lower your
weight onto me and I am almost sure I will cry as I know this is the last
time I will feel you here like this -- so wonderful. After you kiss me
tenderly and roll over off me, I lean over to lick and suck every last bit
of cum from your now diminishing cock. As I taste the mingling of my juices
and yours this one last time I try to savor every nuance of flavor and smell
- lingering longer than necessary to do the job but not long enough to make
my heart content.
*****
Then we lay in one another's arms, snuggling, relishing in the afterglow of
true contentment, enjoying one last time the connections we've made, the
bonds we've built. And as we began so we end. You place my hands on your
lovely chest to stroke it contentedly like I have done so often in the past,
my fingers running one last time through the soft, gray hairs. And I clench
my teeth tightly to keep myself from crying.
*****
You head for the bathroom to bathe. I don't arise and dress. I lie back
down and pull the covers over me and close my eyes, wanting to remember
every touch, every kiss. I want to linger here for as long as possible with
your smell still on the sheets and the taste of your body still in my mouth.
I fold my arms tightly across my body as I hear Sarah's soft, sexy voice
murmuring, "...hold on. hold on to yourself for this is gonna hurt like
hell. hold on. hold on to yourself. you know that only time can tell, what
is it in me that refuses to believe my love, you know that you're my best
friend..." When you return from your shower you're humming. "What?
Totally ravaged are you, Huh!?" you say with a laugh looking at me on the
bed, and I am almost overcome with sadness as I recall how many times you've
said those words to me. Seeing my face, you become more serious and sit
down beside me. "It's over, huh, babe? Are you sure?" you ask. Part of me
wants to cry out, No. Hold me forever. But I don't say those words.
They're in my heart, in my mind, in my mouth, but the words I hear myself
saying are, "Yes. I guess -- I do believe this is the best way," knowing
that this is solely a rational decision and not one my heart endorses. You
lean over and kiss me gently on the forehead. "Thanks for the memories --
oh, and the pictures too," you whisper, your voice beginning to crack.
"You're wonderful -- still." You take me into your arms and we say, "I love
you," one last time to each another. You rise up quickly -- is it to keep
me from seeing your face? -- and gather your things. You look at me, and we
give each other a half smile. "Stay in touch...," we say at the same time.
*****
As your slender frame moves through the door, I have a flash of the future.
You're lounging alone on a patio, an older man now, the grandfather of
teenagers. "Mirrorball," an 'oldies' album these days, is playing on the
radio. You take out the pictures of me from so long ago. They're crinkled
around the edges and the image is beginning to fade -- probably a lot like I
would be if you were to see me in person, you think to yourself smiling --
but you close your eyes and the memories come flooding back to you
comforting and covering you like a hot bath on a cold day. And you
reminisce about what was and dream about what could have been ....
*****
I touch the gold hearts on my ear lobes and I whisper to the shadow of your
presence still in the room, "Bye, Luv ...." Only then do I take off my mask
and release the sobs that I have been so carefully concealing deep within me
....
Bye, Luv ....
--
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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