Peter and Me

"Can we do it again, Peter?"

He hugged me and said, "First, let us just enjoy each other and see what that brings us." I smiled and kissed his cheek. A few minutes passed before he suggested, "I think we need a glass of wine to seal our pleasures. What say you, my love?" I like him calling me 'my love'. I don't hear that at home, but I try not to make comparisons. I agreed to a wine, my mouth was dry from my heavy breathing.

I heard him pass through the kitchen and then stop at the toilet. In the stillness of his house I could hear him peeing into the bowl, a sound that reminded me of the first time I watched my brother do it. I have many similar memories of my younger days. He returned carrying a tray with two glasses and a chilled bottle of chardonnay. I could feel my pussy leaking the combined cocktail of his cum and my lubricant, making a wet spot on his bed. Thankfully, I won't have to sleep in it tonight, I mused.

I watched his naked body walking slowly and saw his gently swinging penis as he approached the bed. My Adonis, I thought silently and wondered if he ever thought of me as his Venus. I daren't ask.

"Here you are; a refresher for the next round, my love." There's those words again. I thanked him and took the wine glass. I sat cross-legged on the bed with the covers pushed to the foot of the bed as I silently sipped my wine, feeling its soothing flavour wet my parched mouth and throat. Lovemaking is hard work, but extremely pleasurable.

Peter sat beside me with his legs crossed, and gently placed one hand high on my thigh. "You have such lovely legs, Wendy, especially when you were wearing those black nylons," he told me. I thanked him. "I want to see them again before we leave, my love." We drank our wine and Peter refilled our glasses. The talk was about our work together and how much he valued my contributions. He had told me all that before, but I don't tire of hearing it.

"It was a long time ago, Peter," I offered.

"Yes, but it can't be just forgotten. You have such talent. I admire you, do you realise that?" I finished my glass and excused myself by saying, "My turn to visit the little girl's room. I'll be back as quick as I can." Peter smiled, but remained silent. He watched me as I left the room.

I sat on the toilet seat and wondered if he could hear my pee splashing into the bowl. It wasn't important, but I did take the time to clean up my place of interest to him, before we combined in love and sexual activity again. "I didn't mean to be so long. I wanted to be nicely presented for my lover," I told him as I climbed back onto the bed and kissed his face.

He was lying on his back with his hands clasped behind his head and had watched me walk back to him. I moved my body so my legs were straddling the top part of his chest, my knees pressed against his rib cage. I shuffled up closer and asked him, "Would you like to taste my pussy, my love?"

"Of course I would," he replied. I haven't had an offer like this for many years, perhaps my teenage days. I would love to enjoy the tantalising flavours of my favourite girl." I love the way he uses words, especially his choice of adjectives. I felt a tingling as his tongue made its initial approach and he would now get the taste of my girl juice. I enjoyed the feeling of his tongue as it explored all there was to reach.

I felt his hands cup my buttocks and pull me closer to him. His fingers thrilled me as they gently parted the cheeks. His hands were so smooth and I felt him squeezing my buttocks so gently and sensuously. I felt a finger move towards the small rear opening and soon it was moving along the edge. It was a feeling long since forgotten, now renewed by my lover. I told him to keep doing it. He obliged and I felt him rimming me so gently it made we tremble inside and I knew I was moving closer to his face.

"Oh Peter, your tongue is making me wet, can you feel it?" He made an appreciative sound without stopping to reply. I had more to tell him, "Peter, I wanted to try this today with you; I thought it may be a feeling I would no longer know, but you have made it come true for me. Thank you, my sweetness."

I reached out for his cock, still partly engorged, but after a few strokes with my hands it had reached full hardness again. This invigorated his licking and sucking in my clit and surrounding areas. I didn't want him to stop, but I suggested we change position. He looked at me with shining eyes,

"How about doggy-style, while we are reliving memories?" he suggested.

"Yes, please. I would love that," I replied quite enthusiastically. I eased myself from his body and positioned myself for him. My head was sideways on a pillow, watching as he crawled his way to be behind me. I could see his erect cock showing the way. I was delighted when he licked my arsehole and pressed his wet finger into the opening he had made. I managed to stifle an excited squeal by pushing my face into the pillow. I didn't want to make a teenage squealing noise with Peter, perhaps a step too far, I thought.

He stopped his rimming and I felt his cock press against my more accommodating opening, I felt his hard knob enter me, making its way inside me with his gentle pushing until I felt his balls resting against me. Without a word, he started his loving stroking in and out giving me a feeling that the world could stop forever and he would never leave me. I peeked under my body and saw his balls dangling freely as his cock inched its throbbing way in and out of me. I was reliving some teenage fantasy and I loved it. "Oh, Peter, that is great. Keep going, please." I said. I almost couldn't believe they were my words. Words from a life lived long ago.

Peter continued his pleasure in my pussy and then I felt his climax as he pressed in very tightly against me. I felt the pulsing of his cock as he discharged his load deep inside me, for the second time this afternoon. He withdrew his manhood and moved away as I collapsed onto the bed, completely spent and drenched inside. Perhaps this has been the most perfect afternoon I could remember. Peter spoke first, "Wendy, my dear, that was truly magnificent. I haven't managed two ejaculations in one day for years, yet today, with you, it seemed the most natural thing to do. It seems, we are a great team in bed too." I liked that team association idea.

I could see the shadows in the room lengthening and I wasn't surprised when Peter told me we needed to get dressed and head back to our respective spouses. Back to that other world, I thought.

"Wendy, you should have a shower before you go, to get my smell and cum off your body."

"Yes, Peter, and you will need to do the same." He nodded agreement. I headed for the bathroom and adjusted the water to suit me and stepped in under the refreshing feel of the water running over me and slid the door closed. I was standing motionless to let the water soak by skin when I heard the screen door slide open, "What are you doing, Peter?" I asked.

"It has been a long-held fantasy of mine to shower with you and after the new things we did today, I felt this was the most appropriate time. I hope you don't mind." I didn't mind at all, I had similar dreams a long time ago.

"No, Peter, of course not. I think it is wonderful," I said as I turned to face him and put my arms around his neck to embrace and kiss him while a veil of water united the two of us in a romantic embrace. We didn't move for a long time, both of us enjoying the moment. It was Peter who broke away and used the soap to wash my back, breasts and my cunt, where most attention was needed to rid any remnants of our clandestine meeting. I let him do it then took the soap and washed his body, especially his now flaccid dick as he watched my hands and squeezed my tits with his. My mind went back to a beach party when many of us shared a row of showers at a beach resort. But they were boys, Peter was a real man and I loved his attention to me.

We both dried off, sharing the towels, until we were ready to return to the bedroom and find our clothes for the journey back to suburban reality. He walked behind me and I knew he was watching my bottom as I walked and the thought of him doing that started to turn me on again. I put on my lacy undergarments until Peter told me to stop. "Wendy, stay just as you are, I want to drink in your beauty to get me through the next week." I moved and turned like a professional model, which really made him smile. "Can I fix your stockings to the suspenders, please? I haven't done that in years. I think I still know how to do it."

I gave him my stockings and sat on the bed, leaning back for him to reach my feet. He hadn't lost the touch. His practised hands pulled the stockings up my legs and his gentle smoothing and straightening, I was mesmerised by his touch and gentlemanly method. He was still naked, so I glanced at his manly appendage as it snuggled against his scrotum while he worked. I quipped, "It wasn't that small before." Peter laughed. I completed dressing as he went about checking his clothing, even checking his appearance in the mirror before we left the house.

As we drove back to get my car, he said, "We will have to do that again, my dear. It was a most beautiful afternoon." I looked at him and said,

Shall we say it was an Afternoon Delight?" We both laughed. Soon it was time to say goodbye for now. I leant over and kissed him on the cheek. I opened the car door, went to my car and the magic was over. No more Afternoon Delight, until next time. As I sat in my car I was reminded of Cinderella, her dream of being a princess ceased when it became midnight, as she was back working again in her dreary kitchen and my midnight had also arrived as I drove home to Ron and Ryan.

The next day gave me a chance to think about what happened in the last few days. Firstly, getting new underwear to please Peter, which led me to thinking about the sensual way Brenda touched me in her shop and her desire to meet for coffee; all of it left me wondering what will happen next. I decided I would meet Brenda and see what plans she may have hatched since my visit to her lingerie shop. Yes, Peter certainly had changed my life. I love you so much, my Peter O'Neill.