Chapter 36

The night of the party we made soft though passionate love. Ann said it was as if we'd never been apart, I took her word for it since I couldn't remember. I just knew it was perfect: we fitted completely. If it was just as before I must have had some real fun before our unwanted parting.

It was after all a Thursday, and there was a school and work day tomorrow. Geoff had told me I must not be seen at work until Monday, and Ann was not to be back at work till Monday either, but Greta was on work experience and the children were in school. What would we do all day on Friday?

Anyway, that Thursday night we saw the children safely off to bed, and waited until the boys were asleep. Greta made herself scarce with her trademark salacious grin missing. Instead there was a moist eyed dewy smile as she revelled in her parents' romantic second honeymoon night. We both got prolonged hugs and no comments beyond a 'goodnight.'

We ascended the stairs together and Ann sat and did what women do at her dressing table, while I used the bathroom. I sat in bed while she disappeared into the bathroom with a bag. When she emerged she took my breath away. Thanks to our wedding photo's and the video, I remembered. She was wearing the same outfit that she had had for our 'first night.'

I said as much. "You look wonderful. It's your wedding night lingerie isn't it?"

She posed, hands on hips, one leg forward, bent at the knee. It was all in shimmering white, translucent, hinting at her body beneath. A baby doll tunic, elaborately lacy and thin enough to show her lacy thong below. White sheer thigh high stockings, and white three inch heels.

"You remembered?" she said with surprise.

"From the video," I said. "It's infinitely better in the flesh."

She swayed to the bed, and pulled off the duvet. I smelled that perfume that had triggered such memories at the restaurant, an event which now seemed so long ago. I took a deep, deep breath and she smiled when she saw my obvious appreciation and reaction as it reared upward and twitched. She kicked off her heels and climbed onto the bed. I made to get up onto my knees but she gently pushed me back.

"Not on your knees," she said. "Please let me..."

She knelt over me and began to do what my other three women had done. She traced my scars lightly and her brow furrowed, then she began to kiss each one, beginning with my chest and arms then went to my feet and legs. Then she sat up.

"I needed to do that," she said. "I want to show you I love you as you are, my darling. All of you."

With that she began to kiss my erection, all along its length, then onto my balls, sucking them one by one into her mouth. Instinctively I opened my legs wider, and immediately she drew her tongue along my perineum, returning with tiny kisses.

"I missed you: this you," she whispered. "I longed for you, night after night. I ached for you week after long week. Now at last I've got you back. I'm so happy."

She took me into her mouth and did some magic with her tongue and cheeks. Then let go and blew gently over the tip. It was exquisite. I opened my eyes and found I was staring down her top, her breasts hanging and the nipples hard. I pulled her forward and we kissed. Then she knelt up and lifted her top off.

Everything about what we did was gentle. She kissed me again and drifted her nipples across my chest. I traced over her back and round the sides of her breasts. She rested on me and sighed. I slipped my fingers under her gossamer thong and pushed down as far as I could. She must have done the rest, because the garment had gone.

Then she moved a stockinged leg over both my legs – I couldn't remember pulling them together. Now her mons was pressing on my erect penis. In one fluid movement she pulled herself up over me and I was inside her smooth, silky, warm embrace.

"Home!" she gasped as she felt me sinking deeper and deeper into her centre, "You're home!"

"I love you." I said. It felt like the first time I ever told her. She kissed me as if it were.

"I love you," she said, and her vagina clamped on me. It was true. She did love me as I was.

The moment was eternal. Nothing mattered at that moment but the penetration and the acceptance. No passion but an intensity of feeling. Until she began to move. It was slow and took my penis to her entrance and then to its deepest burying, rubbing its length against her clitoris. She raised herself on her arms and looked down lovingly into my eyes.

"Yes!" she whispered, and again, "Yes!" on each stroke. Very gradually her strokes increased in tempo, and eventually she sat up and began to shorten the strokes but grinding our roots together, and rotating her hips every few strokes. I responded by thrusting upwards. She smiled at me and our tempo increased until her eyes closed, she froze in position, and then with a muffled cry, began to shake uncontrollably. Finally she fell forward on to me and measured her whole body against mine. She was panting from her exertions.

When she had quietened somewhat, she pulled off me.

"Your turn," she said. "Time to take your wife back."

She rolled off me, pulling at me to climb on top. As I did so, she said, "Make me yours. Love me Allan. Do it hard, please."