Reunion

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Big Tits

The college reunion must be the closest mankind has come to mastering time travel. Twenty-five years older and in a swanky city-centre hotel rather than some rough student digs, everything else was the same: the same crowd, making the same in-jokes, sat cross-legged on a carpet playing the same drinking games. It was sweet in a way; a piece of eternal youth at that stage in our lives when we’re all staring over the crest of the hill. Me and Lisa were the last standing; that was the same too. We were inseparable in college. We loved music and worshiped the same angsty American grunge – Pixies and Nirvana mostly – and tried to outdo each other in the race through the standard outsider fiction; Kerouac, Salinger, Camus. We thought we were so cool. The thing is, she really was. Blonde, bubbly, with a woman’s figure and a girl’s sense of fun, she was as comfortable in a prom dress as a baggy knitted sweater. I think I loved her once.We kept in touch until sometime in the mid ‘nineties, when Lisa went off to South Africa for a summer and never came back. She met some lawyer, married and settled down in the wealthy northern suburbs of Bloemfontein: house, kids, the whole package. Friends Reunited came and went and we chatted briefly, same again with Facebook, but really we just became people we used to know. For my part, I married – twice – had a couple of kids with number two and settled into a boring, comfortable middle age. I was forty-five, my dark hair gradually fading to silver, and without any real direction in my life. I guess I hadn’t changed much either.’Another?’ Lisa asked, not bothering to wait for a response as she poured me my fourth sambuca shot. Or fifth. By now I couldn’t remember.Women must dream of aging like Lisa. She has the colour and character of dark champagne. Her skin had been gently kissed by two decades of cinsel bilgiler South African sun, and her hair retained all of its lustre; fashioned into stylish layers, it cascaded in sandy waves of gold to just past her shoulders. She wore a long, clingy white summer dress, which brilliantly set off the warmth of her tan and accentuated the contours and cleavage of the full, shapely chest motherhood had gifted her. Though years of sun and life had creased faint lines into her face and scrunched tiny crow’s feet around her eyes, her happy face retained its childlike air of mischief. Her rich, cinnamon eyes danced and her restless, smiling mouth wobbled on the cusp of laughter which, when it came, rose like bubbles through her throat and into the night. The diamonds on her wedding finger and in her ears sparkled brightly in the sharp hotel room light. They reminded me that she was a married woman – someone else’s – which stirred something deep inside of me, pitched somewhere between jealousy and desire. She took my breath away. ‘My turn!’ she chirped. Last standing or not, we were playing truth or dare; Lisa had insisted. ‘Truth!”Okay, then,’ I shot back my sambauca and drew up the courage to ask my question. I don’t know what possessed me to ask, but drunk at 3.35 it didn’t seem quite so absurd. ‘What’s the most shocking thing you’ve never done? Sexually, I mean.’ I emphasised the word ‘never’; I felt so clever, as if no one had ever thought of that particular question before.’Piss off!’ Lisa howled in mock indignation, the fiery girl I used to know grinning from behind the white picket fence refinement. ‘You can’t ask me that! Ask another.”That’s my question.’ I smiled, smugly.’No!’ she shrieked, visibly embarrassed. She moved her hands to cover her mouth and shook her head cinsellik bilgileri emphatically, her eyes glancing up at mine. ‘I can’t!’ ‘Come on, Lis’,’ I cajoled. ‘Look, I’ll give you a free hit. I’ll go too!’ She giggled inwardly and fixed her dress. ‘Oh my god,’ she squirmed, playing with her wedding ring to avoid eye contact. ‘Okay…I have never…I mean no one’s ever, you know…gone down on me.’She fixed her eyes firmly on the carpet, laughing but embarrassed to raise her head.’What, never?’ I laughed, more in shock than amusement.’Pete… Pete doesn’t like it!’ she shot back and looked at me, a touch defensively. ‘Don’t laugh!”But before Pe-,”Never!’ she interrupted, firmly. ‘Wow.’ ‘Anyway, what about you?’ she demanded, eager to deflect the attention. ‘What have you been missing?”Well,’ I hesitated, my eyes wandering around the room and my right hand scratching at my face. ‘I don’t tell everyone this, but…I’ve always wanted someone to get me off between their tits.’ My restless gaze settled on her eyes. I really was freed from my inhibitions.’And no one has?’ I shook my head.Lisa looked at me for a second then collapsed on the floor, rippling with laughter. ‘That’s just priceless, Dom!”I don’t know what you mean.”Oh come on, surely you see the irony! You’re the biggest breast man I have ever known, and you’ve never had a tit wank! Life’s a bitch, right?”We’re quite the pair, aren’t we?’ ‘I’ll drink to that,’ she agreed, pulling herself up and refilling our shot glasses. ‘Anyway, we’ve both done ‘truth’ so me again. Dare!”Okay,’ I paused. Was I really going to do this? What the hell, I thought to myself, you’ll probably never see her again anyway. ‘I dare you…to… let me eat you out.”Shit, Dom!’ The mood changed with the suddenness of a slammed door, cinsellik hakkında bilgiler her eyes hardened and flashing. ‘I mean, what the fuck!? We can’t sleep together!”Who said anything about sleeping together,’ I motioned to the old-fashioned green sofa across the room. ‘Just sit there and let me show you what you’ve been missing out on.”Drink does wonders for your confidence, doesn’t it?’ she chuckled, briefly, before touching my hand and soberly reminding me of the self-evident fact. ‘We’re married, Dom. Both of us.’ ‘Who’s going to know?’ I reasoned, ‘you’re going home. When will we see each other again anyway?’ My own words took me by surprise; they stung a little. Lisa looked wounded, as if the question dawned on her for the first time in that instant. She sat silently, her indignation completely overcome by a heavy sadness I had never seen in her before. ‘Okay.’ ‘What?’ I exclaimed, almost alarmed in my surprise. ‘Okay, you can go down on me. I want you to…and…’ her voice faltered, struggling for an explanation before just letting it be. ‘I just want you to.’—I helped her to her feet and we staggered drunkenly across the floor to the sofa, into which she fell and reclined. I knelt between her bronzed, unblemished legs and fumbled beneath the thin fabric of her dress to inch down a tiny, white thong. Her body stiffened awkwardly; she was tense. ‘Are you sure?’ I looked up, sensing her unease. Lisa nodded. I gently prised apart her legs and began planting a trail of butterfly kisses along her left inner thigh. She moaned softly as I brushed my coarse stubble against her soft skin, my kisses rising until stopping just short of her pussy. Her smell was intoxicating; heady and complex, like fermented wine tempered with an earthy musk of sweat and sex. I breathed in greedily before blowing delicately across her vagina and extending my kisses down her other thigh. ‘Don’t tease,’ she pleaded, arching her back and offering herself. ‘Just taste me.’Her desperation caused a heavy cloud of desire to settle in that sweet spot between my gut and my cock, which grew rock hard against the rough fabric of my jeans.I gripped her thighs and drew my face into her heat.

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