Beneath the trees, in the balmy night, it was as if time had stood still. Sure, we were both older, I was certainly a bit – rounder – than at sixteen, and he no longer had the tight body of a teenage track and field star and football BMOC. He had a few strands of silver at his temples that framed his still handsome face and those eyes – with the wicked gleam – hadn’t changed a bit.
“Remember the last time?” His voice was husky in my ear and the shiver was oh, so familiar at the feel of his lips there. He’d been a senior and it had been his graduation night. We’d been a couple on and off and that night we were most certainly ON.
Now hidden beneath the canopy of the pines, he kissed me and my body knew his as if mere days had passed rather than decades. He tasted the same, his kiss was the same. Deep and passionate and hungry and without hesitation he thrust his tongue deep into my mouth and I moaned.
Moments later we were pulling our clothes off and the same intensity of passionate hunger swept through us both. His hands were urgent at my panties. My fingers trembling at his belt. Like the athlete he was, he pulled me to him, gripping my flesh tight and making me feel possessed and owned in his arms.
Flesh against hot flesh, the years fell away and our bodies pressed tight. The feel of that thick cock burning against my groin, the slippery wetness delectable.
“Do you still give great blow jobs?” He asked with a wry grin. He rubbed his cock around and I knew I wasn’t going to pass up another chance, perhaps the last, to taste him again.
I slid to my knees with a grin of my own and he groaned when I put my lips on him, licked, and kissed, and dragged my tongue from his balls to the slippery tip. He threaded his hands through my hair and goddess, but the memory of that touch was enough to make me come then and there.
Those dark, warm, sultry nights. In places like his father’s tool shed, the back seat of his car, and hidden away in the dark at a friend’s pool party where the sound of others in the darkness made being on my knees with his cock deep in my throat, where no doubt the noises we made were overheard by those around us, everyone knowing, so incredibly hot. Truth to tell, my exhibitionistic streak got quite a workout that year.
Now I was swept away by the feel of him in my mouth, his salty thickness slowly thrusting. Twinges as he tightened his grip on my hair, the momentary sensation of suffocation until I remembered to breathe through my nose. The twitching of his cock as I sucked, and hummed, and the pop as he pulled all the way out, pausing to look down and smile.
That smile. The one I had loved so much, all those years ago. The smile that I recalled so fondly even now. Yes, there was that kernel still nestled in my heart. The long ago love had not died. It had been put away in a safe place, where I could always remember him, the joy we found together, the pleasure we shared. Where it would always be safe to love him still, just a little.
I smiled back and finished what I had started, beneath the quiet moonlit sky.