Sarah and Pete - Forty Years After
Caution: This Romantic Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa, Consensual, Heterosexual, First, Safe Sex, Masturbation, Cream Pie, Slow,
Desc: Romantic Sex Story: Chapter 1 - The old saying: 'We are part of all we have known.' is certainly true. Pete and Sarah lost their cherries to each other in the sixties. The bond is still tightly woven. Proceeds from 'some' to 'much' sex in latter chapters.
It finally happened. Sarah called me.
We'd been emailing for years, off and on, and daily for the last two years. We seldom spoke on the phone, when we did it was me calling her, and had met for breakfast only a few times. Though we both enjoyed it, we never actually had been alone together for over 15 years. The situation dictated an arms length relationship. At least for her. I was more flexible in my outlook but it was how she wanted it.
She had a water emergency. As she described it, her water heater was burping hot water out of some open pipe, and she needed it seen to quickly. Since we'd just swapped emails, she knew I was home and available. By walking her through some things to look at, I was 99.9 sure the water heater relief valve had given up. About ten percent of the time it can be reset by pulling and releasing a little lever on it, to reseat the valve. Usually though, the valve seal has become brittle and one belch of hot water past it washes the seat washer out. The only fix is replacing it.
I told her how to shut off the water to the tank and said I'd be there in an hour or so to fix it. I quickly showered shaved then put on some light-work jeans and T, stopped at the Hardware store and picked up the parts. There's only two versions of the valve, so I bought both as it was easy to return the one not used.
After draining a few gallons from the tank, it was easy to pull the old relief valve, install the new one, and replace the down tube. Half an hour after walking into Sarah's modest but well kept ranch style house, I was done.
She asked me what she owed and I showed her the store receipt, pointing out the valve I'd used. A twenty came close and I told her to forget the small change.
"Well ... thanks for coming so quick."
'That's what she said.' Normally, with her, I'd have had that sort of ribald response to that. She knew I was highly sexual, that was and always had been a component of our 'net relationship. But since the environment was a little awkward, I just grinned at her and winked.
"So ... are you chasing me off?"
"Well, no ... not really ... I just figgered you had other things to do..."
"No, I don't ... and if I did I would cancel them."
"I'd just like to talk to you. There's things I want to say that just don't go over well in an email. About the Bad Old Good Old days and why things turned out like they did."
She looked uncomfortable and I expected that.
I laughed, because it was 'so ... HER' and I knew she'd try to head off the possibility of any rough spots.
"Look ... I just want to say what I've thought over the years. You don't even have to respond. I think I understand your viewpoint and why you like to keep things at arms length. Actually you've told me a few times."
I walked the few steps between us and hugged her ... then both my hands dropped behind her and gave her ass-cheeks a good squeeze. They felt good under the thin cotton shift she always wore around home. But I noticed something out of the ordinary, for her anyway. I knew she almost never wore panties and certainly never a bra around the house. I'd felt both in my brief groping. I decided not to mention I'd noticed that ... for now, anyway.
She laughed a bit nervously. But I felt her belly against me and her pelvic bone push gently on my upper thigh. I kissed her on the cheek and we broke apart. I took her hand and led her into the family room and sat her on one end of the sofa, myself on the other.
I looked her in the eyes, and probed a little. Just a little. She was very anxious about this, as I expected she would be. At the same time she was glad I'd stayed. I touched her anxiety center a little, just to calm her fears. One doesn't go further than that with a friend. I didn't want her to feel I'd influenced her thoughts and reactions in any way.
"First, I want to apologize for not meeting you for lunch or breakfast recently. There's a couple of reasons for that ... not just that I'm a 'scaredy-cat' and don't want people to see us together and get the right idea. You know I love you and you love me; the thing is that I would do anything to avoid humiliating the women in my life in any way. That goes for ALL the women in my life. But I do have to prioritize."
She started to say something but I held my hand up.
"The point is that I discovered when we first met up again that it's hard for me to keep my hands off you, and I also found out there was a ton of things I wanted to say to you. Things I really can't say properly in an email ... I need face to face to do that so I can judge whether or not I need to explain why I said what, and judge your reaction immediately so I don't leave you with misunderstandings or hurt feelings. But things I certainly can't say in a restaurant or any public place."
She gave me a puzzled look. "Why?"
"Because they are personal and might even sound stupid when I say them, that's why. And I want to be looking directly at you when I say them so I can tell if there's something I need to explain when I say them."
I chuckled at the thought of how it would look to others if I were trying to do that over a booth table; either like a gibbering child, a lovestruck teenager. Or an insurance salesman trying to close a deal on a whole-life policy.
"Mainly, though, I want to cover all the 'would'a, could'a should haves. I want to apologize where I think I need to, and tell you what I wish I'd done differently. It's not that I really wish I could go back and change those things, because who knows how things would have turned out ... just that now I know better, I wish I could have done those things with you. Without you, I would not have learned what I learned and I wouldn't have completed forming my love and respect for women."
I looked at her ... couldn't tell what she was thinking and I wasn't going to probe, either. I respected her too much to do that. But there WAS one thing that bothered me and I decided to act on it.
I put on a big smile to reassure her, then:
"While you are deciding whether you want to hear my 'confession', as it is ... go back and take off the bra and panties. You won't be needing any armor with me ... this time, anyway."
Her eyes twinkled, the corners of her mouth turned up in the faintest of humor, she got up and walked down the hall.
When she came back, she asked "Would you like something to drink?"
She brought the drinks with ice and resumed her position on the other end of the sofa, curled up and facing me.
"So ... you don't quite trust me, huh?"
"No ... it's not you..."
"Yeah, you don't trust yourself, right? Let me guess ... feeling the underwear would remind you to act properly and ladylike?"
She colored a little... "Yes, I suppose so."
"So, if I groped you and you weren't wearing them, you'd be tempted to just lie back and let me have my way with you... ?"
She didn't answer. I could tell she was not liking the idea of where this was going.
"Look, sweetie ... I like the idea that you would be tempted to get down and dirty. I want you to think like that. But you're forgetting that we are full grown adults and over the years we acquired some discipline."
There was a question on her face but she didn't say anything.
"Put it this way ... the one thing I haven't changed in my character is that 'Don't' and 'No' still mean 'No'. Do you understand what I'm saying?"
"And even if I think you want me to get up close and personal, I'll still think about it and do what I think is right for both of us. Is that okay?"
"The point is, like I said before, I agree with you on our relationship. But that doesn't mean we can't have some fun. We just have to get past playing the usual game and start acting like seniors who have been there and done that. 'THAT' being having played these games before."
Sarah visibly relaxed a little. I didn't need to 'probe' to see that.
"Give me your foot... " I gestured toward her left foot which she tucked under while turned facing me.
"Just give me your foot."
She slowly untangled and extended her leg toward me. I removed her house shoe and pressed my thumbs lightly on her arch and began massaging it and the instep.
She noticed the hem of her shift had moved up and pressed it back down between her thighs. I chuckled.
"Does that feel good?"
She smiled broadly... "Oh, yeah!"
"Well ... this is the sort of thing I want to apologize for not doing when we were dating. Things I really wanted to do ... but was too backward and shy to actually do."
"You ... shy?!" she chuckled.
"Hey ... don't think of me in the here and now. Think back to how we were."
"I loved being with you and I loved to touch you. But I had a problem with PDA ... you know, 'Public Displays of Affection'. I hated the way some of the people I knew hung all over each other so others could see how much in love they were. I think that carried over and I'm sorry about that."
"I never thought of it that way."
"Well, I did. I thought I was making up for it by eating your pussy, but later on I wondered if you just thought I was weird."
Sarah appeared a tad shocked at my language.
"By the way ... it's not that I did, or do, have a fetish about eating pussy; it's that I enjoy making the woman I'm with feel really good. And, of course, 'dirty stuff' being fun."
I moved my grip on her foot then pulled and massaged her toes. It must have felt good, her eyes blinked a little and sort of rolled back.
"By the way ... I decided to talk to you in this circumstance as if it were pillow talk. You know me well enough to figure out I'm not 'crude' or trying to offend you for effect. It's not like we had just met at a seniors function."
As expected, she didn't reply to that.
"Back when we were dating I would really have liked more time alone together so that we could have been more intimate. As it was, I think we 'made love' more than just 'had sex' ... but if we did the same today it would seem like just a quick fuck to me."
She smiled and nodded.
"I mean there's nothing wrong with that occasionally; it's fun. But in the long run it's much more rewarding to lie around afterward and bask in the afterglow of a good animal-like fuck and play with each others' bodies. And kiss. And hug a lot. Naked and vulnerable. That's stuff you can't do when you don't have the resources of a private place ... or you are concerned about being too sexually motivated in your relationship. I remember thinking if I spent too much time in 'intimacy' you would think I didn't care about you for anything else."
"Later, I realized just how good that is ... and that it's the ultimate in lovemaking but it requires both partners to feel that way. Besides knowing that a woman wants to give herself to me, thus pleasure me, there's nothing more sublime for a man than to be allowed to empty his seed into the belly of a loving woman. And there's nothing more demeaning, to me anyway, than to have her jump up, immediately after, and run to the bathroom to get rid of 'the mess'."
She was quiet a bit ... then nodded. Whether it was in agreement or simple understanding of the thought, I didn't know and it didn't really matter.
"Don't get me wrong. If you did that it's totally understandable, it's just that I've known both."
I motioned for her to give me her other foot and I started kneading on it. She almost purred, this time. I felt good about that.
Damn ... I wondered if she would ever ask or give a response to my intimate thoughts!
I knew her, and I knew she loved me. Specifically how she thought about these things was a mystery ... other than she had said how she enjoyed 'making it work' and how much pleasure I took from it. Exactly the minimum I needed to know, of course and I appreciated that. The rest ... being what specific thoughts ran through her mind, when I brought up incidents and occasions I might never know.
And that gave me a thought. I was doing right at the moment something that illustrated my thoughts and regrets. I was actually making love to her in a way.
I looked her straight in the eyes, smiled and winked.
"I sure hope your pussy is getting a little wet. And that it gets even wetter tonight when you are in bed thinking back on this. I won't even say what else I hope you are thinking about tonight, or right now, for that matter. Maybe you will tell me someday."
She responded to that.
"Well, you know how I am ... always been that way. Guess if you made some assumption about it you might be right."
Wow. A goldmine of frankness, for her anyway. And I was pleased she didn't add: " ... and you might not."
Meanwhile, 'old man syndrome' was nudging at my internals so I excused myself and found the bathroom. As I took a leak I was bemused by the fact I had a semi-woody and, even better, was oozing pre-cum. Boy, that was something to take note of. That's something you ordinarily don't remark on in a story where there's romantic stuff going on, but hey ... it's sixty-somethings we're talkin' about here!
When I returned, Sarah was puttering around the kitchen and I thought it was time to take my leave. I hadn't said everything I'd wanted to. In fact I had barely started, but I thought things had gone well. I certainly didn't want to take a chance on her feeling things were out of her control.
I walked up behind her, wrapped my arms around her tummy, leaned around and kissed her on the cheek while holding her full to me. She leaned back into me ... that was good. She pressed her butt back into me ... which was better, knowing full well she felt the 'softwood' I was still sporting.
I lifted my hands to cup her boobs from underneath ... she let out a little sigh so I knew that was welcome. I flicked the sides of my thumbs over her nipples and, in scant seconds, felt them respond. I leaned down again to whisper in her ear...
"Remember this, tonight, when you settle in ... I will."
I turned her around and gave her a quick kiss on the lips then pulled away. I didn't want either of us to extend the feelings too far, right then. I wasn't trying to be a tease, I just wanted it to be a significant fun and exciting moment.
In return, I got a big smile and she squeezed my hand, hard. I patted her on the ass, with the other hand and squeezed a cheek for just a second. I walked out the door a happy camper.
Oddly enough, I went through the rest of the day in contentment. I wasn't obsessed with sexy thoughts as I went through my chores and settled to watch my TV. But later that evening, as the house got quiet, I felt the vague unease in the privates that succeeds the pressure of 'Blue Balls' in older men.
Normally I would pull up a video to inspire me, but that night, instead of imagining myself as the young lucky guy screwing that hot chick, I fantasized Sarah and myself, senior lovers, fully engaged in hot passionate lovemaking. I was fully inside her, my hands grasping and pulling her ass cheeks, hers doing the same to mine, her kegels squeezing my cock rhythmically, our lips locked and tongues dancing as I spurted deep in her belly.
I'd tried that fantasy image before but somehow never was able to get it 'fixed' in my imagination. Now it was easy to do.
And what made it even better, I fantasized that it was Sarah who was mind-imaging it.
Could it be true? Ahh ... I would just have to wait and see.
That was one sweet spill. I couldn't wait for her morning email.
Let alone the next request to help her fix a problem around the house.