Pele Reinvented

"No, we can't do that." I sat back down on the bench. "Hmmmm, you remember that first time we were together? We came down here, and I leaned against you, and you put your hands under my skirt?"

"Oh yes, I remember," he said, grinning. I had dressed carefully for him. And it had been warm enough to wear a thin skirt without stockings. He had stroked me through my lace panties, and it felt like I was going to come right then and there.

"And then I took off my top, then my bra. And I straddled you with my skirt still on."

"I remember it well."

"Did we ever eat dinner?"

"Eventually, I think." We both let ourselves think about what we hadn't let ourselves think about for a long time, at least I hadn't. I was mistaken about him. I thought he had completely put me out of his mind.

"I still think about you, while I'm out there. " He motioned towards his trailer. "You are who I fantasize about." Ah, so he did still think about me. "How about you? You think about me?"

"I haven't let myself think about you for a long time. It seemed better not to."

"Hmmmmmm." We fell into silence again.

"Now what do we do?" I asked, smiling. His answer was to stand up and start stroking his member.

"Oh my," I said again. My vocabulary shrinks when I am nervous.

"You could watch me."

"Oh, yes," I said softly. "I remember that you like that." I stayed on the bench. My mouth suddenly went dry through several moments of silence, as I watched him moving his right hand slowly up and down as he grasped his erect penis. He broke the silence.

"Growing up Catholic, it was wrong, any sort of sexuality was wrong." He continued to stoke his penis and to look at me. "I felt so guilty. And I wanted. . .Well, to have a beautiful woman watch me, accept me, to have it be okay, better than okay, to have it be good. How I wanted that." The roots of Adam's asceticism, alongside the desire to be seen. And to be released.

"Yes," I murmured, as I continued to watch. My heart raced. How much from being aroused, and how much from the danger in what we were doing, I'm not sure.

"What do you want right now?" he asked, continuing to move his hand rhythmically on his penis.

"I want to kiss you." I came over to the edge of the soft tub, putting my arms around him and kissing him hungrily. My hand slid down to help stroke his penis. I stroked it briefly, and then slid my hand back up to his waist. "Rubicon," I murmured.

"Rubicon," he agreed. I could feel when the rhythm of his strokes increased briefly, and then felt his body tense as he emitted a sigh. Not like my Jack, who's voice rings out and fills the valley, his body practically doubling over and back when he comes. No mistaking it. So different from Jack, Adam's orgasms seemed to explode from the outside in, rippling inward like an underground river that washes over his individual cells.

"You came?" I asked.

"Mmm-hmmmm." We held each other in silence for a few moments.

"Well, I guess I should go in," I said pulling back from the embrace. "But I'll be thinking about you." I smiled at him. "See if you can feel me thinking about you." I started up the stairs, and then turned at the top and blew him a kiss.

"Good night, Adam."

"Good night, Cathy."