She moved into his arms and hugged him, and he held her close. “We only have a few hours,” she whispered. “and we won’t be together again for a while. I want to give you something to remember. A special treat.”

“Like I was going to forget?” he asked.

She smiled. “Just making sure. C’mon, let’s snuggle for a while.” She led him to the bed, where they lay down together.

His robe was pulled around him, but she slipped a hand beneath it and around to his bare back. He held her close, and they kissed, but gently, quietly. She stroked his back.

“I’m going to miss you so much,” she murmured.

He started to say something about missing her for twenty-seven years, but thought better of it. “Me too,” was all he said.

They kissed for a while, a little more passionately. He stroked her back through the sweatshirt, then cupped her breast. It was so soft and heavy, without her bra….

She made a tiny sound of protest, then took his hand in hers and lifted it from her breast. He thought she was saying, “Not now”–

But then she slipped his hand beneath her sweatshirt and released it.

As he slid his hand upward and touched her bare breast, she made another little sound–of contentment–and snuggled closer.

He whispered, “I love you,” and held her breast in his hand. Her nipple was big under his palm, and stiffening. He kissed her.

They cuddled quietly for a long time, and he explored her warm, smooth, and achingly familiar body with his hands. At one point he moved to pull her sweatshirt off, but she stopped him with a hand and a tiny shake of her head. “That’s for later,” she breathed.

“All right.” He continued to fondle her beneath the shirt, and she lifted her chest to his hands as they cuddled and kissed deeply.

It was not the fierce, animal lust of the day before, though there was passion there. It was a deeper, warmer current of affection, a glowing ember of trust and closeness that would awaken into flame quite soon enough. There was no hurry.

She unbuttoned and unzipped her cutoffs. She made no sound, no other movement. When he slid his hand over her smooth belly and below her waist inside them, she murmured softly, “Don’t–“

“I know,” he whispered. “Just touch.” She sighed and kissed him, relaxed and quiet in his arms.

He stroked all across her lower belly, so smooth and soft, down to where her thighs began, from hip to hip. His fingers brushed the fringes of her hair. His hand moved lower, and for the first time in so very many years, he touched her there.

He cupped her tender mound, and kissed her. He stroked her there, so gently, just holding her sweet pussy in his hand, and she opened her mouth to him and moved, so subtly, lifting her hips to his touch.

He squeezed her for an instant, and then began to stroke her skin from breasts to thighs. His hand moved all over her, beneath the shirt and shorts, touching her everywhere, petting her like a kitten, and she purred with contentment.

“How do you always know exactly what I want?” she whispered.

“It’s what I want too, my heart,” he whispered back. He cupped her mound again, and there was moisture there. He knew she would be liquid, an intimate and fragrant pool of warmth inside her, but the time to touch her there was not quite yet. He stroked her secret hair and held her close.

A few moments later, he covered her–then just held her, his hands outside her clothes. “Soon,” he murmured.

“Yes. Very soon,” she breathed, and wriggled against him, warm and safe and loved.

She lay quietly in his arms. “When can we meet again?” she asked.

“That’s up to you,” he said. “I can come to you anytime.” He held her breast again, feeling the softness of it through her shirt. “School is out in a couple of weeks, and I’m off.”

Her eyes sparkled as she lifted herself to his touch. “In two weeks?”

“Mm-hmm.” He bent and kissed her breast.

“Would it be worth the drive for just a few hours?” The drive was four hours for him, one-way, to get to where she lived. She stroked the back of his head as he nuzzled her.

He raised his head and look at her face. “It would be worth it for ten minutes, Carol. What are you thinking?”

He moved to lift his hand, but she clasped it to her. “I sometimes take an afternoon off, on a weekday, and just go shopping or see a movie by myself,” she said. “Larry’s used to it. We could meet and go somewhere to be alone for just a little while. Mmmm.” she pressed his hand into her chest and closed her eyes.

“Every week?” he asked hopefully. She shook her head.

“No, that would be a change. Just once every six weeks or so.” She smiled and rubbed her cheek against his chest. “Maybe every month.”

“Name the day. I can get there on five hours’ notice. Just call me and I’m there.” He squeezed her.

“I’ll be calling.” She kissed him, then lay back and sighed. “I feel better now, love. I was afraid it would be months… What’s the matter?”

His hand had stopped moving and he was looking at her with a strange expression. “Please don’t call me that,” he said softly.

“Something you can’t think about?” He nodded. She took his hand and put it inside her shorts again. “Seems like you could think about anything again now, Chahlie…”

He stroked her belly. “Different direction,” he said.

She looked at him with a trace of sadness. “From when it was bad,” she whispered. He nodded, and she embraced him. “What can I ever do to make up for that, Chahlie? I’m so sorry. I had to do what I did. I just had to.”

So much he wanted to say, to ask her, to tell her. But he found he could let it go. That time was past, and it was clear there was much she didn’t remember. Why stir up all that hurt? It was better now.

“You already have, my heart.” She smiled and closed her eyes and snuggled close. “Thank you, Chahlie,” she whispered.

“Just–” She opened her eyes. “Just promise me you’ll never shut me out again.”

She hugged him. “I promise,” she said quietly. “I’ll never shut you out again, Chahlie. Never, never, never.”

He embraced her, and they kissed. He sighed. A very old wound had finally had the poison drawn from it, and now it could heal. Perhaps it was healed already.

His hand was in her shorts. He caressed her there, and moved to kiss her throat.

She lifted her chin for it, and he pulled her shirt aside with his other hand and began to kiss her secret spot. He thought of it as only his; he didn’t know if Larry knew of it, and didn’t want to know. She whimpered, just a little, and her thighs parted and then spread wide.

She hissed and writhed as he drilled his tongue into her there, and his finger found her tiny slit and gently–oh, so gently–parted her moist lips and slipped inside her.

She gasped and moaned. So did he.

She was so hot, so wet–so smooth and sweet–he felt her up and kissed her throat and held her against him as she twisted in his arms and opened her legs farther.

“Oh, God, Chahlie–that feels so good–”

“Mmmm. Sure does.”

“No one could ever touch me like you do. No one ever has.”

“I love you, Carol.” He dragged his finger against her clit and made her twist and moan. “I love you, Carol.” He did it again, and she shuddered. “I love you.” Once more.

“Oh, God, Chahlie, I love you too. I always have…” She rolled her pussy upward for his touch and pumped her hips, urgently. “You’re going to make me come already…”

His eyes were wet. “Tell me that again,” he breathed.

She knew what he meant. “I’ve always loved you, Chahlie, I never stopped… Oh, God, that feels so good….”

He dug his finger deep, slipped in another, pressed his palm against her clit and moved it in slow circles. “Tell me again,” he whispered.

“I’ve always loved you, Chahlie… I’ve missed your hands so much…” She made a strangled sound, deep in her throat. “Ggg… Ungh… I’m going to c-come, Chahlie… Make me come… Make me come now, like you used to…”

He stroked her long and deep, so firm and gentle and insistent all at once, keeping the smoothly sliding contact with her clit and with her pulsing pussy walls, and she drew up in a tense arch and shuddered in his arms.

“I’m c-c-“

He began to shake her there, holding her liquid center firmly in his hand and moving his hand so rapidly…

“Oh, G-GOD,” she cried, “I’m c-COMING… I’m COMING, Chahlie, I’m coming in your haaANND…” She grimaced and shuddered like a leaf in the wind, and her pussy clenched and grasped at his fingers wetly as she tensed and hummed beside him like a harpstring. He shook her captured pussy hard and kept her coming for most of a minute, till she was struggling and choking out her still-growing, blooming orgasm in half-words and broken gasps of white-hot passion. “Oh, G–so good–Ggg–Oh, Ch–Chah–ngh–don’t st–nngh–love y–”

He finally released her from the climax he controlled, still holding her soaked and trembling pussy firmly in his hand. He moved his hand more subtly, allowing her to come down from her long, long peak of passion, slowly and sweetly relaxing in his arms.

She rolled toward him and sobbed into his chest. He held her, his hand still holding her sweet, wet pussy, protectively now. She sniffed and gulped, crying in his arms. Then she looked up, her face wet but smiling. “Only you, Chahlie,” she quavered. “Only you can m-make me come so hard, I cry.” She dropped her head to his chest again and gasped, “How can you still do that after so long?”

“It’s what I was made for, Carol,” he whispered. “It’s why I exist.”

She clung to him and breathed, “I think you must be right.”

They lay in silence for a while, and he held her close with one hand and her sweet pussy in the other. He felt her quiver in his arms from time to time.

He finally lifted his hand from her crotch and she lifted her head to look at him–and as she watched, he licked and sucked her juices from his fingers. She smiled, delighted.

“Oh, Chahlie…”

He licked between his fingers and smiled back. “Take those off,” he said, “And I’ll make you come even harder.”

She shivered. “Oh, God not now. I’d explode.”

“A little later, then.” She kissed him, deeply, tasting herself, then took a deep breath and smiled at him, an expression on her face he could not read.

“What?”

“It’s time for your special treat,” she said, her voice low and intimate. She zipped her shorts and then climbed over him and off the bed. “Come on.”

She led him to the sofa. “Sit down and wait,” she said.

Breasts and bottom jiggling beneath her teenager’s shirt and shorts, she walked around tne room turning on more lights. When the room was brightly lit, she pulled the coffee table in front of the couch away and stood in front of him, his view of her unimpeded.

“There, that’ll do,” she said.

“What–“

“Now wait just a minute. I’ll be right back. I have to go to the bathroom.” She grinned excitedly and literally skipped away, breasts bouncing, and disappeared.

He sat there waiting. His mind was ticking over slowly, still trying to comprehend what she had said, that she had always loved him. He had just decided not to ask her questions, but just to treasure it as it was, when she came out of the bathroom–and he gasped.

He gasped and stared at her in delight. “Oh, baby,” he breathed. “Oh, my God…”

Carol was totally nude.

She posed for him, her cheeks pink. “I’ve put on some weight,” she said shyly.

“You look better than ever, baby,” he said. “I swear you do.”

Her body was a marvel. She was a bit heavier, but that only made her curves more generous, more sensual. Her breasts were bigger, but they seemed almost as firm as when she was a girl. Her belly had more of a convex curve, but the sweet punctuation of her belly button still hypnotized him as it had on that beach long ago. Her thighs were heavier, and her legs curvier, but they were still perfect–and her beautiful bare feet still made him ache for her. Her feminine, hourglass shape was emphasized by her broader hips and bigger breasts–but above all, her skin–and he could see all of it–was just as pink-and-white and perfect as he had not dared to remember.

She was a vision, beautiful and sexy beyond the dreams he had never dared to dream. He couldn’t believe what he was seeing: his Carol, the only woman in the world, standing in from of him, and as he loved her best: totally nude.

She was almost fifty, but she was more sensuously, sexily alluring and plain beautiful than a roomful of naked 16-year-olds, and he would not have traded her for a thousand of them.

She smiled shyly and turned to show him her plump bottom.

It occurred to him that she must be proud of it, and she should be–it was big and firm and round and perfect. “That’s the most beautiful behind I’ve ever seen,” he said, and she blushed a little redder and stuck it out for him happily. She waved it at him a bit and giggled.

“C’mere, baby,” he said, and opened his arms.

To his surprise, she shook her head with a wicked smile. “I said I had a special treat for you,” she said. “This isn’t it.”

He blinked at her. “Then what–oh.” He began to smile. “You want me to?”

She smirked at him coyly. “You haven’t seen me naked for almost thirty years,” she said. “I thought it’d be fun to make a little show out of it.”

“Like we used to,” he said. His mouth was dry.

“Mmm-hmmm…. Are you ready?”

“Are you?” he asked as he prepared to open his robe. “You haven’t seen this for almost thirty years, either.”

She smiled and whispered, “Show me, Chahlie. Let me see how I excite you.”

He opened his robe and showed her. “Ooo! You ARE excited!” His cock was fully erect, curving upward slightly with a bead of pre-cum at the tip. She knelt before him and took it in her soft hand. She shivered at her touch and closed his eyes.

“Open your eyes, Chahlie,” she whispered. “I want you to see this.” He looked down, and as he watched in disbelief, Carol, naked to her lovely toes, kissed his swollen dickhead and licked the bead of pre-cum away with a lewd smile. “Now jack off to me, Chahlie,” she whispered as she rose back to her feet. “I want to make you come.”

She spread her bare feet wide apart, placed her hands on her knees, and crouched in front of him sensuously. As she bumped her pelvis subtly, her breasts swung before his eyes, heavy and big and perfect. Her large nipples were hard and erect.

She was so bare…

Charlie pulled at his grateful cock. After two days of constant erection and solitary fantasies, he was enjoying this more than any words could ever, ever express.

She turned around, still crouching, and humped and rolled her perfect ass at him. She looked back over her shoulder and asked, “What do you want me to do, Chahlie? I’ll do anything…”

If he had ever dared to dream at all, he would never have dared to dream this.

He had her take his favorite poses, of course: half-crouching with her hands behind her head, legs turned outward; lying on her back and holding her knees as wide as possible; kneeling with her lovely ass high in the air, her ass cocked up to expose her tender pussy lips, which parted slightly. She was visibly wet, her pussy–still so small!–glistening in the brightly lit hotel room.

That last was poignant; it was the pose she took when she wanted to be fucked from behind, always her favorite way. He loved seeing her display the pink soles of her pretty feet almost as much as the flaring pink lips of her pretty pussy.

He had her pull her plump asscheeks wide apart, exposing herself as obscenely as she could. “How unladylike,” he groaned, and she giggled into the carpet and stuck her hairy cunt out even farther.

“Do you ever p-play with yourself?” he stammered.

“Oh, yes,” she said, whispering the second word and hunching for him, her rawly exposed crotch on lewd display.

“Show me,” he croaked, his cock sending him rumblings of the oncoming express train of his cum.

He watched, entranced, as her beautiful hand appeared between her thighs and stroked her upturned pussy, and then he listened as she gasped when her lovely middle finger disappeared inside it.

Her hips were working rhythmically as she fingered herself, and she rolled over and looked up at him from the floor as she masturbated with him. “I don’t have anything on, Chahlie,” she breathed. “I’m completely naked…”

She dug her finger deep and rotated it, whimpering, then pulled it out and held her shockingly tiny pussy open for him. “Look at me, Chahlie,” she whispered. “Look at my pussy. I want to make you come. Come for me….”

“I d-don’t have anything to c-catch it,” he stammered.

She slid closer and held her knees back, writhing naked on the floor, undulating her naked crotch at him, subtly shaking her full, heavy tits.

“I’ll catch it,” she murmured with a smile.

That did it for him. He groaned and let it go as she cooed and wriggled under his spurts and splatters..

His sperm did not fly as far as it did when he was 20, but it shot far enough to scatter drops on her from her pussy to her face. “Ooo!” she squealed, delighted as she watched his distorted face and felt his sperm land warmly on her skin.

Watching her smile and lick her lips, eyes twinkling as he shot all over her, broke something inside him, and he just kept on shooting.

When he was done, she lay there on the floor and posed for him as he watched, wearing nothing but his cum.

He took her to the bed and ate her lovely cunt for half an hour, with his cum still on her body. He kissed the all-but invisible scar of her C-sections–explaining her tiny baby pussy–and marveled at her delicate pink lips. He licked and sucked her tiny labia, tongue-whipped her clit, and sucked her there and fingered her to another series of shattering orgasms as she whimpered like a little girl above him. He kissed her pussy tenderly, and she moved as if to kiss him back with it.

They showered together, and they scrubbed every square inch of each other with their bare, soapy hands, and delighted in the feel of their slick bodies sliding against each other. Charlie backed her up against the tiled wall and sucked her wet nipples as he felt her up and soaped her clit to yet another shuddering orgasm–and then another–and then she soaped his iron-hard dick till he spurted, and she kissed his bursting dickhead while he shot all over and into her sweetly opened mouth under the spray.

When they were done and dry, it was time for her to go. She changed back into her business attire, and looked the well-bred, dignified, and strait-laced middle-aged matron that she most definitely was not.

“Can I walk you to your car?” he asked.

She giggled. “In that?” He was still wearing only the robe.

“I can dress,” he protested.

“Don’t,” she said. “Let me remember you like that.”

He grinned. “I hope you don’t mind if I remember you as you were–a little while ago..”

She twinkled at him. “That was the idea,” she stage-whispered.

They embraced–and kissed–and he walked with her to the door of the suite. She settled her bag over her shoulder and looked at him. “Don’t watch me walk down the hall, Charlie,” she said. “You’ll see me again. And soon.”

He gave her a wry smile. “You know me too well.” he kissed her again. “I’ll miss you more now than I have, and that’s not easy.”

“Call me–what is today? Monday. Call me tomorrow, Charlie. That’s not so long.”

“And in a week or two–“

“Yes.” She hugged him again. “I love you, Charlie. I’ll see you soon.”

And she was gone.

He couldn’t help it. He peeked out the door and caught a glimpse of her as she got on the elevator; then he went to the sofa and sat down.

He looked at the bed, still rumpled; at the floor, where drops of his drying semen still speckled the carpet except for where she’d been.

He sat back and closed his eyes. What did he feel?

He smiled.

Whole.

He felt whole again.

The world had light, and color. He existed. He lived.

The miracle undreamed of, unasked for, impossible and beyond all hope, had happened.

Carol loved him again.

(to be continued)

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