It had been a light-hearted evening. My parents had thrown a party for the office staff. There had been laughter, song and drink to spare. Most of the people from the party went back to their own hotel rooms, but somehow it was decided that she stay the night.
It was purely innocent- after all; my own parents were right on the other side of the partition.
We were eighteen, and considered adults where we lived. We were also both engaged- though not to each other. It had been over a year since we'd gone our separate ways. We moved on and met new lovers, but even so, when our eyes were locked for too long, my heart would start pounding like it did when we first met.
It's difficult to admit you're flirting until time sufficiently detaches you from the memory.
She was wearing a nightshirt and boxer shorts, I wore just underwear. We were playing a sort of tug of war with the hotel's spare blanket. Creating excuses to touch each other and trying to contain our tipsy giggling.
In hushed tones we held a childish argument over who would get to sleep on the cot and who would get the floor. A quick bout of rock-paper- scissors left her on the floor. She feigned taking offence and insisted that I surrender my only pillow as compensation.
We took care not to wake my parents as our activity fell to wrestling over the pillow. We both knelt on the cot with the pillow between us. Each of us had a tight grip on the pillow and wouldn't let go. We were out of things to argue over and neither of us wanted the game to end.
Time slowed down for me here as I looked into her smiling green eyes. Her cheeks were flush with alcohol and adrenaline and she looked so happy I felt like crying. Her soft, pouty lips glistened with the reflected light from a streetlamp outside.
As my mind reeled to keep pace with my aching heart, I eased my grip on the pillow.
She saw the opening and seized it, yanking the pillow from my hands and hiding it behind her. Realizing that I was about to lose the game, I pounced forward to reclaim my prize.
The pillow was trapped beneath her back, and she was trapped beneath me.
It was her turn for time to slow. I could see her breath catch for a second as she returned my earlier gaze. The connection was complete.
Her eyelids half-closed and her lips parted as my mouth sank down to meet hers. Her chin tilted up and right to an angle that we'd practised for so long in years past.
The first kiss that night triggered a flood of memories for me.
She wriggled her tongue from side to side in the way she always had and it was as if no time had passed at all. I cupped her face in my hands with nostalgia, and our hips ground together with lust.
Her kiss was like no other. It had a sensual style all its own that sent my heart flying and got my cock hard in seconds. The only problem was that because it got me so hot, I was always compelled much too soon to abandon her mouth for other, more sensitive areas.
In keeping with my tradition, my lips made their way along her jaw line to her ear where they paused briefly to allow my tongue to flit along the lobe. Still impatient, they travelled down her neck to her collarbone. My hands left her face to push up her nightshirt, revealing her delicate breasts.
I drew my face back for a second to absorb the glory of her tits. From this angle they fell a bit flat, but perfect nipples caught my eye. They had a soft pink hue to match her lips and minute crevasses gave her areolas an inviting texture.
Lowering my hungry mouth to her sweet, cool nipple I drew in a deep breath of her body scent. Though she wore no perfume, the way she normally smelled reminded me of a particular brand of lotion, but I can't recall which. Whatever it was, the scent had been the same since we'd met in junior high.
The guilt that had been trying increasingly to get my attention was washed away as I took another breath of her intoxicating aroma.
I suckled gently on one nipple while my hand tickled and stroked the underside of her other breast. After a short time they switched places and she began stroking the back of my head.
.... There is more of this story ...