Auld Langsyne

"God, you're beautiful," I muttered, rolling forward onto my knees and taking Angie in my arms. She melted against me easily, accepting my kisses. For long moments, neither of us said a word. The only sounds were of wet lips and wanton moans. My jacket fell behind me, my shirt was pulled over my head. Angie buried her head in my chest, licking and nipping my nipples. My head was spinning, my cock throbbing. Never had I wanted a woman as much as I desired Angie at that moment.

She licked and kissed her way down my stomach, hands busy as they massaged the bulge in my jeans and caressed between my thighs. Every touch was electric. I ran my hands through her hair, then down her slender back. The way she was bent over, her jeans had slid down her hips a little, revealing some of the soft flesh of her cheeks. I noticed she had a little tattoo at the small of her back, a pair of multi-colored birds facing each other. Probably gotten during her college years.

My fingers found the clasp for her bra just as Angie began uncoiling the belt from around my waist. I freed the snap, and her bra straps slid down her arms. But not until my belt hung loose and the zipper was fully lowered on my slacks did Angie straighten and let her bra fall to the floor of the car.

"You like?" she asked coyly, cupping her breasts. Motherhood had made them larger, and her nipples had become impressive, dark puffies that stood out on thick pink mounds. Angie pinched her distended nipples, drawing them out, then letting then snap back into place.

"Very much," I muttered, then descended upon them, engulfing one of her nipples, including the entirety of the areola, in my mouth. Angie hissed, threading my hair through her fingers, sighing loudly as I sucked deeply. She gasped and quivered when my teeth grazed the hard nub, so I bit down, gently at first, then applying a little more pressure.

"Dan!" she cried. "Oh my God . . . ."

I groaned – more like a growl, I suppose – pushing Angie back and lifting her up so that she sat on the bench seat. I released the nipple I had been sucking, went for the other one. Angie squirmed and moaned – I would never have thought she would be such an aggressive lover – and slipped her hand down inside my slacks, finding my engorged cock. She tugged and stroked it, fluttering her fingers along the shaft and down to my balls.

"Baby . . . baby, come up here," she breathed heatedly. "I wanna do what I should have done in the theater."

I lifted my head, licking my lips. "What's that?"

Angie smiled broadly, stroking my cock slowly with a squeezing grip. "I wanna suck it," she declared.

My dick throbbed in her hands. "Do you, now?" I asked.

Angie nodded. "Uh-huh," she muttered, pulling on my dick, wanting me to lift up. So I did, getting to my feet, leaning over Angie's head and bracing my hands on the seat back. My lover's head obscured my view, but the feel of her slick lips, questing tongue, and hot breath bathing my cock was Heaven enough.

Angie moaned around my shaft as she sucked ardently, using her hands in tandem to massage my length and caress my balls. I settled a hand to her head, loving the way she bobbed back and forth. The wet sucking and slurping sounds she made were incredibly arousing, making my cock twitch and leak pre-cum onto her eager tongue.

I couldn't help but pump my hips, feeding her inch after inch of my cock, relishing the hot, caressing motions of her mouth. I would have been happy to let her get me off that way, but for some reason, that thought alone made me feel selfish. I didn't want to be pleasured by Angie, not after so long, without giving it back in turn.

I pulled back – a great effort on my part – and watched my glistening cock slip from her swollen, wet lips. She looked up to me, questioningly and perhaps a bit anxious. I smiled, touching her chin.

"I want to taste you, too," I whispered.

Angie smiled, expelling warm, sweet breath. I slid back down to my knees, engaging my first love in passionate kisses while our fingers fumbled with one another's around the top of her jeans. Our shared excitement and awkwardness made Angie giggle, reminding me of the girl she had been so many years before. But the sultriness of a mature woman returned as Angie lifted her hips, letting me slide her jeans down to her ankles. Her sex was covered with loose, lacy panties, and even with the dim light, I could make out a few wisps of golden hair peeking around the edges of the gusset, catching the stark street light.

I breathed in, stemming my urge to bury my face between her thighs and taste the heavenly treat I knew awaited me there. But I didn't want to rush it. I wanted to savor it, just as I savored the womanly aroma reaching out to me as I slipped Angie's boots from her feet and removed her jeans completely.

"Jesus, you're gorgeous," I murmured, looking upon Angie in her near-nudity. At eighteen, she had been shy and apprehensive about letting me even see her breasts; now, as a woman, she displayed herself openly and without shame, sliding her hands from the tops of her thighs, up over a somewhat soft but still youthful stomach, to her firm, womanly breasts. She stared at me, enjoying the effect she had upon me, while pulling and tugging on her nipples.

"Get your clothes off, baby," she whispered. "I've wanted so long to know what you look like naked."

I smiled, shifting on my knees while slipping off my shoes and slacks. My cock remained hard, jutting out from beneath my abdomen, and once I was naked, I took it in my hand and began lightly stroking it. Angie's eyes became fixated on it, her lips parted, chest rising and falling as she breathed.

"Oh, God, that's hot," she whispered, slipping a hand into her panties, caressing her pussy. I watched her fingers move beneath the silky material of the undergarment. I could just hear the faint wet sounds of her fingers massaging her pussy. "Stroke it for me. Stroke your cock, baby."

I could not ever remember feeling so lost in the moment, so totally given to passion, as I felt then. Angie was all at once the teenaged girl I once knew and loved, and the mature woman I was falling in love with all over again. I pumped my cock more firmly, leaning back a bit so the shadow of my body did not obscure her view. "I wanna see you naked, too," I told her.

Angie smiled, eyes twinkling. "Yeah?"

I nodded, nudging a little closer, until I was just between her widespread knees. "Yeah. Show it to me, Angie."

"'It?'" she queried, the naughty smile growing. "Just what is it that you want to see, Dan?"

I matched her mischievous look. "Your pussy, Angie," I said, feeling cock twitch in my hand. My fingers were becoming slick as I stroked myself. "I wanna see your pussy."

She breathed in sharply, pinching one of her nipples hard as she rolled her hips against her hand. I thought she was on the verge of climax, yet Angie slipped her hand from her panties and lifted her legs, bringing them together. She rolled back until her knees settled on her chest, and peeled the slinky garment up from her hips, along her toned, sleek thighs to her calves.

I stared, enraptured by the sight of Angie's naked sex. She trimmed, just a little, a classic bikini shave, leaving wispy, nearly invisible hairs along puffy vulva, with a few ghostly curls surrounding her pink anus. She was clearly wet; the hair was slightly matted, and the bottom of her slit was open just a little, from which clear fluid had leaked to make her perineum shine.

With a parting of her legs, Angie casually tossed the panties aside, and hooked her little ankle sock-clad feet behind my shoulders. "Take a good, close look, baby," she urged me with a wanton whisper.

I tried not to groan as I allowed Angie to pull me down with her legs. As I lowered myself between her thighs, they splayed wide open, the lips of her pussy separating stickily. Her pubic hair was fine, a little sparse atop her mound and along her outer lips, glowing with the color of fresh honey.

I encircled her hips with my arms. Lowered myself on the floor. Inhaled deeply of her scent. Heaven. Pure heaven, I thought, my senses near to overload. Then I parted my lips, opened my mouth, and descended . . . .

"Oh, Dan!" she gasped, arching her back, scratching the seat on either side of her hips with her short nails. She pushed her sex against my mouth as I sucked as much of her tender, sweet flesh as I could. Her legs spread wide, nearly perpendicular to her body, and she stared down at me with a desperate, nearly driven look. I stared back, shaking my head slowly, pulling on her lips, questing inside her with my tongue.

"Baby, Oh, God . . . just . . . just eat me . . . eat me like that . . . oh . . . ." She started shaking, her eyes closing, a sort of pained expression crossing her face. The way she shook, the way her eyes dripped, it was obvious she was crying. But, crying from passion?

Or . . . perhaps guilt?

For whatever reason, I didn't stop, even as I watched Angie's tortured, contorted face. Her body, at the least, wanted the pleasure I gave her. She rhythmically pushed her hips out toward me, almost roughly at times, urging me to suck the rich, bittersweet flow that trickled out from within her. Her head thrashed back and forth, strands of blonde hair streaking across her face and sticking to her lips. Hot puffs of breath escaped her mouth, sounding more labored by the moment.

Finally, she slapped her hands to the back of my head, crying out in what could have been anguish or passion – or perhaps both – as she came. I covered her pussy with my mouth, sucking hard, rubbing her needy clit with the flat of my tongue. Her inner muscles clenched and relaxed, clenched and relaxed, and I felt the faintest spurt of semisweet juice as it burst against my probing tongue.

For a long moment, I kissed and licked her inner thighs, unsure of how to proceed, or even if I should. I caressed Angie's body, feeling the quivering tensions of her muscles beneath the skin. Taking my time lapping up the sweet effusion from the insides of taut thighs and the soft cheeks beneath her sex, I let Angie come down from her high.

"D-Dan . . . ."

I glanced up to her face, seeing the rosy glow on her cheeks, the glassy look in her eyes. Tenderly, I kissed her slick clit. "Yeah."

"Lay back, baby," she whispered huskily, sitting up and pushing against my shoulders. Passive to what Angie wanted, I turned so that I could lay on the floor of the mini-van, between the captain's chairs and the middle bench seat. There was not much room, but enough, apparently, as Angie swung her leg over me, positioning herself in a sixty-nine.

I honestly did not care about the facets of adultery, the fact that Angie and I were both betraying sacred vows we had sworn to others. Perhaps I was separated, but I was not divorced, and Angie remained dutifully married. None of that mattered. In fact, at that moment, we were not a man and a woman married to other people, we were eager and loving high school sweethearts, reveling in the pleasures and passion we could devote to one another.

Angie moaned constantly, low, faint sounds muffled due to the fact that she was sliding her slick mouth up and down my cock with all the hungry abandon of a starving artist at a monarch's feast. I grunted and gasped with the sensations she gave me, especially once, after several shallow plunges, she pushed all the way down, working my cock into her throat. The feeling was dazzling and dazing, making me dig my fingers into the fleshy globes her tight, round ass. The fact that I could feel her chin grazing my lower abdomen was mind-numbing.

Angie slid back up, off my cock, panting for breath while masturbating my stiff rod at a desperate, aggressive pace. She licked all around the head, sucking it now and then into her mouth, pumping my cock feverishly all the while. Her frantic ministrations made it difficult for me to concentrate on licking her. But Angie, it seemed, wanted my orgasm more than she wanted hers.

"Cum for me, baby," she hissed in a seething, whimpering voice. "Come on, baby, do it! Do it for me! Yeah, I want it! Give it to me! Oh, God, baby!"

And then the words were gone, replaced by loud, insistent sucking, her lips smacking along my cock, her tight fist pumping my shaft. Her other hand cradled my balls, middle finger massaging the corded muscle between testicles and anus. She took me deep again and again, encasing the head of my cock in the tight tunnel of her throat.

My body was shaking almost violently by that point. My cock was hot and hard in her mouth, more rigid than it had ever been. I had never felt such a powerful orgasm wash through me before. For a brief moment, I nearly felt like I was dying.

I'm sure I must have cried out something, some sort of ridiculous, vague religious reference, before latching my mouth to Angie's saturated pussy and erupting between her lips. My cock burned with the fierceness of a volcano, yet it was an intensely pleasurable heat, one I had never experienced before.

I must have passed out for a few moments, I figure. I remember taking deep breaths as I heaved beneath Angie's body, resting atop mine, and feeling her tongue licking around the base of my cock. I listened her soft sighs and murmurs. Licking. Panting. Smacking. Swallowing. Over and over . . . .

"A-Angie," I managed to say.

"Hmm?" she responded, gently kissing the tumescent length of my cock, then licking around the head.

"I . . . um . . . uh . . . kiss me . . . ."

She let out a girlish giggle, then uncurled her leg, shifting around until she was atop me. For a moment, I gazed upon her sublime face, cheeks glowing, eyes glittering almost drunkenly. Her mouth was wet, the corners decorated with frothy white bubbles. I didn't care. I pulled her to me, kissing hungrily, sucking my own essence from her lips and tongue. Angie responded quickly, her fire once again stoked by my passion. She writhed and rolled upon me, framing my hips with her thighs, pressing her soaked pussy to my slowly-reviving cock.

"I hope we're not done," I managed to get out between heated kisses.

Her eyes blazed. "No," she said firmly. "We're not."

I grunted and sighed as Angie slid down my body, hungrily engulfing my cock once more. She sucked and pulled, using mouth and hands in tandem. Whatever she might have missed from my previous orgasm, she certainly devoured as she sucked and licked all over. I found myself responding with near supernatural virility, especially once Angie's mouth latched to my balls, her hands caressing my slick shaft.

Her passion refueled me. I sat up, taking her head in my hands, thick, soft blonde hair tangled in my fingers. Reluctantly, Angie released my balls from her wet, dripping mouth, looking upon me with a glazed expression. We weren't thinking by that point. We were passionate animals, wanting only each other.

I hoisted Angie back onto the bench seat, taking her ankles in my hands and holding her legs wide apart. She reached for my hips, fingers digging into the cheeks of my ass, guiding my once again stiff cock inside her. We both sighed loudly at our first and delicious union. Her pussy gripped and sucked me in, bathing my cock with the intense heat and passion of her body.

For a long moment, I trembled, relishing the moment, the sensation, the . . . love.

Then I started moving.

Easing back, conscious of every minute ripple of Angie's slick, snug pussy around my cock, the fluttering of her butterfly lips. Pushing in, sucking in breath as the heat and tightness increased with every millimeter I plunged.

Angie's hands caressed my face and neck. I sucked a finger as it wandered close to my mouth. Neither of us could say a thing as I thrust, and she pushed. Our eyes locked now and then, sharing a plethora of emotion neither of us would ever fully comprehend. Those long, timeless moments were gloriously raw, yet also incredibly tender. We fucked and made love. Took and also shared. I wished – and believe she did as well – that it would never end.

But the almost violent rush hit us both at the same time, bringing us back to the physical moment. I'm sure the howl I emitted was the most guttural and animalistic roar of triumph I would ever feel tear from my breast, just as the shrieking cries and gasps coming from Angie were the most intense she had ever known. I buried myself deeply, feeling her body sucking from me the gift which I poured into her womb.

So intense was that moment, I believe I could have described God . . . had I been able to speak.

***

The car hummed, the engine cycling now and then as the heater kept us warm. Angie and I cuddled in the middle seat, arms and legs wrapped about each other, sharing soft kisses and grateful, loving smiles. Our bodies were sweaty and shone beneath the harsh light the illuminated the windows. Angie's smile was the most beautiful image in the world to me, especially since I knew that I was the reason for it.

"Angie?"

"Yeah."

"This was the beast Prom I've ever been to."

She giggled affectionately, clutched me in a tight embrace. "Oh, God, Dan . . . I'll never stop being in love with you."

I stroked her back, her outer thigh. "I wish . . . I wish I hadn't been so stupid—"

"Baby, don't," she whispered, tugging softly on the hair on my chest. I felt her shudder. "We can't go back. You know that."

I nodded reluctantly, kissed the top of her head. "And we can't start over."

Angie lifted her head, sniffling once. Her eyes brimmed with tears. I realized mine were, as well. "No."

"Does he take care of you?" I asked.

Tears dripped down her cheeks. "I . . . I wish I could say I love him," she said, her voice barely audible. "But I guess it's enough that he keeps me warm and safe and dry."

I pulled her face toward mine, pressed my lips to hers in a long, sweet kiss. "I'll always love you, Angie."

She shuddered with emotion. "I'll always love you, Dan."

***

Time had gotten the better of us. Angie had to get home, to her husband, her children, her life. I told her to drop me off at the edge of the grocery store parking lot. I could walk the rest of the way to my car.

Slipping out of the silver mini-van, I turned before the open door and faced my first love. I felt awkward. "I wish I had something . . . poignant to say."

Angie nodded, her jaw set as she held back more tears. Her eyes were visibly swollen and red. "Me, too," she forced out, giving me a forlorn look.

I drew in a shuddering breath, watching the snowflakes falling all around us. "I love you, Angie."

She sputtered a little, then covered her mouth, staring at me as she tried not to let the flood of her emotion spill out. "I love you, too."

I reached in, took her hand. "Merry Christmas, baby."

She shook, then, the tears finally flooding down her face. "M-Merry Christmas."

***

I rolled my shoulders, flipping up the collar of my jacket as I trudged back across the parking lot to my car. The flakes were light and tickling at first, but then became heavier, wetter, as the snow turned into rain. I hung my head, feeling my hair becoming thick and heavy and cold, before getting to my car and sliding behind the wheel.

I sat there for a long moment, trying to make sense of what had happened. What twisted turn of fate, what wicked aspect of God had I – or we – invoked? To be reminded of lost love, given a chance to explore it, only to have it ripped away . . . .

At first, I thought it cruel.

Then I realized . . . .

***

The following day, I stood out on the rear deck of my parents' home, sated and satisfied from the holiday meal my dear mother had provided. Brothers, sisters, aunts, uncles, nieces and nephews and cousins . . . we were all there. The warmth of the Yuletide Spirit was alive within us all. The universal expression of love had helped me come to terms with what had happened between Angie and I. In a strange sort of uncharacteristically enlightened way, I saw our coupling as a catharsis, a needed release for us both. The final chapter, as it were, so that Angie and I could turn the page and move on.