by Tia Siren
I reach out and remove her towel, letting it fall silently to the floor. I look at her body, as gorgeous as it was the last time I was able to be with her. Looking makes my cock stand up hard and at attention, which reminds me that my uniform is getting in the way of things.
I had been hoping something like this would happen, but it seemed as if it would be impossible. Just in case, I had put a condom in my pocket. But right now I want to do something else to her first. Just so she can’t go walking away from me again.
I know that if she’s letting me do this to her right away—if she seems eager and happy that I’m doing it—that she hasn’t been able to forget about me, either. And I want to make sure that she never does.
I pull the condom out of the pocket of my uniform and then throw it on top the uniform that falls into a crumbled heap on the floor next to the towel I had stripped off of her. I lay her down on the couch and I spread her legs.
“There’s that tight little pussy I remember so well,” I tell her.
She smiles, and so do I, because I also remember that she likes when I talk dirty to her. Oh, my God. She’s my most perfect, beautiful lover and I never want to let her go again.
I begin circling my tongue around her clit and she moans.
“Oh, my God, Pat,” she says, as I bury my face in her pussy. “I’ve missed this so much. I’ve thought about it so much.”
I love that she can’t help but tell me how she still feels about me. I love that it’s mutual.
I softly bite her clit as she groans and holds onto my hair.
“Your hair is so blonde,” she says. “It’s summer.”
“And yours is so nice and brown again,” I tell her.
She laughs.
I look up at her, but stick a finger into her pussy so she doesn’t forget how good I feel down there.
“Maybe we should go do this on the beach,” I tell her. “Ocean City. For old time’s sake.”
“Maybe later,” she says. “I need you to finish first.”
“Of course,” I tell her, fingering her pussy while I return to licking it.
She’s dripping wet, onto my finger. She tastes like a sweet summer day and she smells spring fresh from her shower.
I know I should be mad at her for leaving me, but I’m not. To be honest, I’ve felt guilty about not insisting I go with her, way back when. Sure, I was as set in what I wanted to do as she was, but I was a little less headstrong, a little more pliable. It’s just in my nature. And perhaps it could have been fun, to live with her in the Big Apple.
I suck on her clit and realize that things had to be this way. She had to pursue her dreams and I had to pursue mine. And now here she is, with her legs spread around my face as I suck her pussy dry and she screams my name as she begins to come.
“Patrick, Patrick, Patrick,” she calls out. “I’m coming. Oh, my God, Pat. I’m coming.”
“I know,” I tell her, lapping up her juices, rubbing my mouth and tongue all over her. And then, when she collapses onto the couch, I pop my head back up again.
“And now you’re going to make me come,” I tell her. “Because I’ve been waiting a long time.”
“Okay,” she says, panting. I can tell she’s exhausted from her orgasm, but willing to repay me the favor. She gets up, about to get on her hands and knees, but I don’t want a blowjob from her. Not yet, anyway.
“I want to be inside you,” I tell her.
She looks at me with lovesick puppy eyes—that stare I remember so well. It hasn’t changed, even though a lot of time has passed.
I turn her around so that she’s on her hands and knees on the couch, with her ass and pussy spread open for me. I love that she’s completely naked for me and that I can see all of her.
I unwrap the condom and hurry to put it on, feeling that all the years I’ve gone without seeing her are rushing me to do what I’ve been dying to do her again. I grab ahold of her luscious ass and then put my cock up at the entrance of her pussy.
“Are you ready for me?” I ask her, as I rub the head of my cock around on her pussy hole, teasing her, taunting her.
“I’ve been ready,” she says.
I plunge my shaft into her, feeling as if this is the definition of heaven. I feel every bit of my eleven inches slide into her wet, warm pussy. It feels so good, it feels like home. Even though she left Washburn and me temporarily, I know her pussy has always been mine, permanently.
“This feels so good,” she says, as I plunge in and out of her. “This is amazing. Just like I remembered. Just like I’ve been thinking about for so long.”
“Mmmm,” I moan, as I thrust in and out of her sweet pussy hole.
So she has been thinking of me in the same way I’ve been thinking of her, after all this time. We never really let each other go. We just let each other be who we were going to be separately, so that fate could bring us back to being a couple now that we’re sure of ourselves.
At least that’s what I’m hoping for, but as I pump in and out of her, looking down at her round ass and perfect pussy, I can’t help but wonder if that’s what she thinks, and how we would make it work. She and I live completely different lives, in completely different places. I was willing to try long distance at one point, but now I would want to be near her as much as possible, to make up for lost time.
My thoughts take a back burner to my physical sensations as my cock gets even harder and pulses and throbs inside her. I hold onto her hips as she writhes around on my cock and says, “I’m going to come again, Pat. You’re making me come.”
“Come on my cock,” I tell her, as I feel my own orgasm coming on. “I’m going to come too.”
“Come with me, Pat,” she says, and begins to pant and moan.
I groan loud and deep, and say, “I’m coming. I’m coming and it feels even better than it used to.”
“I know,” she grunts, as we both come together. “This is amazing. This is everything I was hoping it would be again, and even more.”
I know in this moment that both of us were hoping and even planning for this to happen. As I feel the sweet release of the orgasm I’ve been dying to have with her again, I know that fate has brought us back together. It is our destiny to make this work somehow, this time. I will do whatever it takes.
We both collapse on the couch, my arms holding her tight, and she says, “I never want you to let me go again.”
“Good,” I tell her, “because I don’t plan to.”
8
Patrick
After a few minutes pass, I realize I’ve been rude.
“How are you doing with everything?” I ask Kelia. “How was the funeral and viewing?”
“They were okay,” she says, nuzzling herself into my neck. “Hmmm, I forgot how nice your chest feels. And I love your tattoos.”
She traces her fingers down across my pecs and I don’t ever want her to stop.
“I would have paid my respects, but I didn’t want to make things awkward or difficult for you,” I tell her.
She nods, and says, “Well, I think your timing when it came to re-appearing in my life was impeccable.”
We laugh, and then she gets serious again.
“I’ll definitely miss my aunt,” she says. “I’m glad she found love again in her life, just like I did.”
I take a deep breath, almost unable to believe that she still wants to be with me as much as I want to be with her again. It seems like a dream come true.
“Her funeral service was held at the same church that Charles Tweed was groundskeeper at,” Kelia says. “Some people say that even though he had been known as a man about town, he settled down for Belinda Smith. She didn’t want to marry him because she had already been there, done that, but they were pretty serious.”
“I’m glad to hear that too,” I tell her. “Sounds like a happy ending, but then I wonder who poisoned her. I’m here to find out if it was you, but obviously we can rule out that suspect…”
“Well,
” she says, looking up at me as if she has even more good news. “I think I might have solved the mystery for you. Made your job a lot easier.”
“What do you mean?” I ask her.
“Some other people at the funeral were pointing and whispering at us. I knew they were spreading gossip and I didn’t want the memory of my aunt sullied by these tongue-waggers. Maisy didn’t like seeing me upset, and she figured they wouldn’t talk to me so she went over there and asked them what exactly they had to say that was so important that they were disrupting Belinda’s grieving nieces.”
“Your sister was always very protective of you,” I tell her, my hand tracing its way down her arm. “I like that.”
“Yeah, and it turns out they were only too happy to talk to her. For once, they weren’t talking about me. There was a woman sitting a few pews behind us, from the next town over. They told Maisy that Charles was also having an affair with this woman.”
“No way!” I explode. “The scoundrel!”
“I know, right? But the crazy thing is they claim my aunt was okay with it. That they had an ‘open relationship,’ or something to that affect. She knew she couldn’t tie him down since she didn’t want to get married, and so she let him continue his old ways. But this other lady—I got her name for you, since you said you were planning to come around and interrogate me, and I wanted to clear my own—MabelHershey—was not so into the idea of an open relationship.”
“So you think she killed her?” I ask, my mouth hanging open like hers had been not too long ago.
“I do,” she says. “And I think I found something to prove it.”
She gets up, and I watch her hot ass cross the room. She opens the drawer to a bureau and pulls out a piece of paper.
“Do you remember that you told me the town gossips speculated I killed my aunt because she was going to leave a little something for Charles?” she asks me.
“Yes,” I tell her.
“Well, I think this is what she was talking about.”
She hands me a letter.
My dear Charles,
I have been told I have the same cancer my sister had. I know I don’t have much time left. I’ve talked to my lawyer, who says my estate is in order and, as you know, my beloved niece Kelia will receive the bulk of the inheritance. But because you have made my last days so amazing, I wanted to leave you something too. I hope this is enough to enjoy your final days with Mabel or whomever else you wish to love. You have plenty of love to go around, and I so appreciate our time together.
Love,
Your Belinda
There’s a check enclosed, for $100,000.00.
“Wow,” I tell her, looking up at her in awe. “So do you think this Mabel poisoned your aunt?”
I realize my mistake, but it’s too late to correct it.
“Don’t tell anyone I told you that,” I tell her. “I’m not supposed to inform a suspect of the cause of death. I was just overcome by your detective work. And your beauty.”
She laughs.
“I think so,” she says. “At first, I thought maybe my aunt poisoned herself. She saw the horrible way my mother passed away, and may not have wanted to subject herself to that. But then I obtained footage from the bakery that shows Mabel going in with a pie, and delivering it to Aunt Belinda. She even makes sure that Aunt Belinda eats it in front of her. I think she was trying to sell her on carrying them in the bakery, or something.”
“Poisoning by pie,” I tell her, shaking my head in amazement. “You solved all the mysteries. I can see why you make such a good lawyer. This was a very well put together and surprising presentation.”
“About that,” she says, sitting down on the couch next to me. “There’s something else I’ve been piecing together.”
I wait for her to go on, my heart pounding in my chest, unable to believe that she wants a future with me. But I have a feeling that’s where this is headed, and I could not be happier. My first love, my only love, is back at last, and she wants to be with me too. And she even solved a murder for me.
This must be true love. And it has to last forever, since it’s already lasted this long.
9
Kelia
I take a deep breath as I peer up into Patrick’s gorgeous sea-blue eyes. I can’t believe I’m telling him this. But I had decided that if there was any way he still wanted to be with me, that I want to be with him, too, and I’m willing to show him exactly how much.
“I don’t really love practicing law in New York City as much as I thought I would,” I admit.
“Because you miss little old me and Washburn?” he asks.
I laugh.
“I can’t say I completely miss Washburn, but, after so long spent away, I miss its charm. I miss being with Maisy all the time. And of course, I miss you. So, I’m thinking maybe I should try living here.”
“Really?” he asks, obviously very happy.
“Really.”
“Won’t your firm miss you?” he asks.
I shrug.
“I’ve made some not so smart decisions there,” I tell him. “I kind of… got drunk and slept with my boss.”
“Oh my God,” he says, angry instead of the reaction I expected: jealousy, I guess. “Was he drunk too?”
“No,” I tell him. “I mean, drunk with power, but that’s about it.”
“That’s rape!” he cries out. “Let me handle the case. I don’t care if it’s outside of my jurisdiction.”
“I appreciate that, but I made my own choices and I want to handle them,” I tell him. “I think it just shows it’s not the place for me. I had some great successes there but I was miserable. He’s being a douchebag and holding it over my head and…”
I trail off, not wanting to give him the rest of the details since he’s already so upset at Jack. I’ll break it to him some other time.
“I just want to be with you,” I finish.
“But what about your career?” he asks. “Did your aunt leave you enough to just… I mean… I’ll definitely provide for you. You should move in with me… but…”
“Wow, things are getting very serious very quickly,” I joke.
He smiles and says, “Look, I want us to do everything together. Move in together. Get married. Have babies. I just want to make sure you’re well taken care of. And I know your career was important to you so I guess I’m just confused…”
My heart beats at all the things he’s informally proposing. I want them too. But in good time. We definitely have enough of that and are used to being patient.
“My aunt’s business did surprisingly well,” I tell him. “I’ve met with her lawyer and looked over the paperwork, and it’s a solid investment. There’s plenty more where that check to Charles came from. And a thriving bakery and craft store.”
“What are you going to do about that?” he asks. “I’ve never known you to be much of a cook or very crafty either.”
“Very funny,” I laugh. “I might pick back up the crafting and baking lessons my aunt used to give me, in her memory. But I was also thinking about an additional purpose for the business. What do you think about this name? ‘Crusts, Cross-Stitch, and Counselor at Law?”
“Your own law practice?” he asks, raising his eyebrows as if he’s impressed.
“Yeah,” I tell him. “I figure the people of Washburn might need wills, criminal defense, family law, that sort of stuff. If my aunt could be an entrepreneur, so can I.”
“I love it,” he tells me, pulling me close to him. “And I love you.”
“I love you too,” I tell him, never so happy as I am right now.
10
Kelia
“You ready to go again?” Patrick asks me, as I feel his cock up against me.
“Wow, you’re ready for another round?” I ask him. “You’re really bringing me back to those old high school days.”
“You make me feel like I’m still young,” he says, and then he laughs. “That sounds really fucking cheesy.”
“That’s okay,” I tell him. “We’ve both had some shocking information lately, so I don’t expect you to be at the top of your game.”
He laughs, and then I tell him, “Do you want to know something else that’s really cheesy?”
“Sure,” he says, “As long as we can get it on soon, so I put this thing to good use.”
He gestures down towards his huge cock.
“Most nights, when I have time, I read romance novels and think of you,” I confess. “Especially during the… steamy scenes.”
“Is that so?” he asks, a big grin spreading across his face. “You play with yourself and think of me?”
“Yes. And I use ‘Bob,’ too.”
“Hey now, no bringing other guys into this,” he says. “I’m not your aunt. I’m not cool with that.”
But he’s laughing, and so am I.
“I think that means ‘battery operated boyfriend,’” he says. “Am I right?”
“You sure are.”
“Do you have this other man handy?” he asks. “Because I want to show him what’s what.”
I have to admit, that really surprises me. I wasn’t expecting it. But I guess that’s just Patrick—always something new up his sleeve.
“Hold on,” I tell him, heading to the same bureau where I kept the letter that proves my innocence. “I’ll get it.”
“You’re sure making yourself at home here at your aunt’s house,” he remarks.
“Yeah, I figure I’ll live here until you officially propose. I’m kind of old fashioned like that.”
“You really did have this all worked out in your head, didn’t you?”
I smile and nod. “Guilty as charged. Of the crime of being over-prepared, at least.”
I bring my vibrator over to him and he holds it up and inspects it.
“Hmmm, now this could give a guy an inferiority complex,” he says.
“Don’t be silly,” I tell him, holding it up next to his big cock. “They’re the same size. You might even be bigger.”