Some lovers can never be forgotten, some passions never extinguished, and when fate brought me back to my person, our lives blew up and unleashed thirteen years of wanting, fantasizing, and dreaming in between the sheets.
When I was seventeen, I met the woman my heart could never forget in October 1993. We were friends for two flirtatious months, talking, laughing, dreaming, and drawing closer with every minute we spent together. By the time the holidays rolled around, we both knew we were incredibly attracted to each other, but neither of us had the courage to make the first move. So, we talked and flirted, and we wished for something to happen.
That something was Christmas Eve. I’ll never forget seeing her in a short, little black dress with black stockings and heels. Her long brown hair flowed over her shoulders, her face was young and stunning, and in her eyes there was such sincerity, depth, and warmth that drew me ever closer. I, on the other hand, was looking like a typical grungy teenage boy, and driving a rusted out 1980 Monte Carlo did nothing to help my image. My only saving grace was that I was at her house to pick up food her father was donating to the Christmas Eve Dinner at the Salvation Army’s warming shelter. She was on her way to Christmas party with her family, hence our two very different styles of dress. As she helped me carry the food to the car, we paused to say goodbye.
At that moment, her beauty and my feelings overwhelmed my trepidation. Gently I reached out to her and drew her into my arms, and our eyes locked. My hand moved up to her neck and cheek as our lips traveled in slow wanting to meet for the first time. As our eyes closed and our lips met, I felt her silky, moist warm tongue for the first time. I had never kissed anyone so gently, sincerely, or with such purity in my life. We became utterly lost in that moment as time swept away, and in those few moments of innocence we were the only two people on Earth. In that instance, I knew for the first time that true love was real.
Our souls had touched, and she had written her eternity in my heart, and taken mine into hers. As our lips parted and our eyes looked in wonder at each other, huge fat snowflakes filled the air. We had become a timeless couple in a snow globe, and if I were permitted to take just one memory from this life with me to heaven, it would be the memory of our first kiss.
It would be another two months of kissing, touching, exploring and learning each other’s bodies before we made love for the first time. We were supposed to go to the Sadie Hawkin’s dance at school on Valentine’s Day. Instead, I took her out for a romantic, candlelit dinner of fondue. She was in that little black dress again, a perfect mixture of sexy, beauty, youth, and untapped passion. I had transformed from grungy jeans and a sweater into a strong young man in black pants with a vest and red tie. I had never been full of such anticipation, raw desire, and excitement.
I wanted everything to be absolutely perfect for our first time together. Before leaving to pick her up, I put candles around my room, had a CD ready to go, sprinkled rose petals on the bed, and had the fireplace downstairs ready. My deepest desires and fantasies of love were about to come true, and I desperately wanted to impress her to show her that my love was true and deserving of her beauty.
We skipped the dance that night and returned to my house. Before taking her upstairs, I lit the candles and started the music. Then I led her to my room and watched as her eyes lit up at the sight of the candles with music in the air and rose petals on the bed. We danced slowly and kissed for a long time. We took our time, and with very nervous and excited fingers, I began to unzip the back of her dress. She slowly unbuttoned my vest and shirt. Our eyes filled with longing and passion as we undressed each other, and peeled each other’s clothes off in a slow progression to naked beauty. Her young supple body quivered with nerves as I laid her down on the bed in a perfect image of romance with soft candlelight dancing on her naked skin and rose petals scattered around her.
Her hands ran up my back to my long hair as we kissed again, and she felt my length and firmness as our bodies pressed together. I softly touched, caressed, and kissed her firm breasts. My hands explored her hips, and my eyes were overwhelmed by her beauty. I felt her legs slowly spread in an invitation of passion, and as we kissed again, she took me into her. Slowly our bodies became one, and I felt her warm, wet desire. She began to moan softly with pleasure, and I could not believe the feeling of being inside her. As our bodies slowly thrust, we became electric. Our souls were touching again in mounting passion and pleasure. Then her back arched and her other lips clenched around me as I thrust deeper inside of her, she moaned loudly and clutched my back pulling her body even harder to mine. We exploded in a simultaneous release of love, and as she wrapped me in her flood of passion I filled her with my perfect joy.
We had touched the void within each other and simultaneously filled it, altering the course of our lives forever. We were left wordless and could only hold each other for a long time, looking in disbelief at the ecstasy we created in each other, both of us had silent tears on our cheeks. Every romantic love scene or imagined image of love making had become our reality.
After a while, we regained ourselves and in comfy clothes we made our way downstairs. I lit the fire and put on soft music. In front of the fire, I put out pillows and blankets. We basked in the warmth of the firelight, holding each other, talking, and kissing. Our passions came alive again, but this time it was more of a primal pleasure we sought. My size had pleased her, and she wanted to be filled and fulfilled again. Her young, slender body turned me on more than words will ever express. The heat of the fire was nothing compared to the passion and desire that burned within us.
This time, I was on my back, and she took my cock into her mouth and started sucking me until I was throbbing. Then she mounted me and moved her hips over my cock and slid down, watching her take in my pleasure. I watched her naked body move, bathed in the firelight, and her eyes dance as she took pleasure from me. Her hand clawed my chest as her hips worked me over again and again, until she nearly screamed as an orgasm overwhelmed her. At this, I quickly rolled her over and let go of my passions. Thrusting, clutching harder and harder. She was coming again and moaning, and I felt something breaking free deep within me. With a passion and desire that words cannot describe, I ravaged her in front of the fire. I felt my cock swell and throb, and her eyes locked with mine at the moment of my release. The intensity of the moment sent us both over the edge as her whole body constricted around mine, and I collapsed, reeling from this new revelation of power.
We laid there for nearly an hour smiling until our faces hurt. In one night we had not only made love for the first time, but we discovered the absolute fun and pleasure we could give each other. I never imagined that this kind of chemistry existed.
For the next few months, our love for each other grew stronger, our bond grew closer, and we never imagined the pain we would inflict on each other. I wish I could write, “And then we lived happily ever after,” but life had cruel lessons to teach us both, and each of us had unique trials to endure.
Shortly after graduation I joined the military, and that softer more compassionate side of me began to disappear. I wanted to be tough, I wanted to be heroic, and foolishly I thought that being emotional or romantic was a sign of weakness. Today, I know that real men are completely vulnerable to their partner, they cry, and honestly share what they feel. But at eighteen, I was obsessed with foolishly hiding my fears, insecurities, and vulnerabilities. So, I became cold, distant, even cruel with her. She longed for me and loved me purely and I for her, but I acted just the opposite. One night we broke up, and in her pain she slept with another. I got drunk and did the same.
For the next three years, we kept trying to make the relationship work, but we never could. We knew we loved each other, but neither of us had any of the skills to be successful in a relationship, especially a long-distance one. I sank deeper into alcoholism, and she eventually tried to quit life through drug addiction.
During this time, I received orders for deployment to Saudi Arabia. I came home for leave and wreaked absolute havoc in the lives of the people who loved me the most. It was during this time, however, that my sister allowed me use her apartment for a night. We had four bottles of Dr. Pepper, two packs of Marlboro Lights, and the Nine Inch Nails CD, “Downward Spiral.” I don’t know what got into us that night, but we fucked in ways I never thought two people could ever fuck. Maybe it was the pain we had caused each other, or a raw, primal, carnal lust. Whatever it was, neither of us could control it once the music started. We ripped each other’s clothes off, and she sucked me so hard I came within a couple of minutes. Then it was my turn as I dove between her legs and tongue fucked her to insanity. She had to push my head away and beg me to stop, but I was just getting started. My cock slammed into her wet pussy, and as the music played on we twisted, squirmed, and utterly wore each other out.
Our bodies were dripping with sweat as we tried every imaginable position. She would ride me, suck me, and beg me to fuck her. I would taste her again and again, spread her legs wide, then roll her over and pound her as hard as I could to the industrial beat. We fucked each other like animals that night. Over the course of that CD, I came three times, and she lost track of her orgasms. We soaked the sheets with sweat and the air in the room was filled with sex.
It wasn’t too long after that night that everything completely fell apart. In different ways, over the next couple of years, we each had to take our journeys’ to the bottom. I finally got sober when I was in Japan, and a year later she went to rehab. I was holding on to the hope that after a year clean and sober, I could go and see her. I had finally started to grow up, and I could see all of the foolish mistakes I had made in my youth. I knew that I loved her in a way could never love anyone else. Then she called and told me she was pregnant, getting married, and he was twenty years older than her. Something died in me during that conversation, but I tried to be supportive, I tried to listen, and I tried not to interfere. She couldn’t believe that I still loved her, and I lacked the courage to say it. I was angry and so jealous. I knew what true love was, and I knew who my soul mate was, but I had lost her.
My optimism and hope withered in those days, and I made sure I would never let anyone else get close enough to hurt me like that again. It would take years for that pain to subside, but some wounds never really heal, some passions can not be extinguished, and some memories refuse to be forgotten.
We tried to stay in touch, but it hurt too much for both of us. We both knew it was dangerous. She was in one corner of the country, and I was in the other. A year after she was married, I married my wife, and our daughter was born two months later. For the next ten years, she became my ghost. I would think of her almost every day. If I saw someone in a crowd that looked like her, my heart would skip a beat. And every Christmas Eve for ten years, I would patiently wait for everyone to go to bed, and I would stay up reliving our first kiss, our love, and all the memories. It was the one night during the year that I would let myself feel everything I felt for her. Perhaps my hope wasn’t dead, but I certainly didn’t believe in fairy tales and happily ever afters. Besides, she had obviously moved on, and there was no way she thought about me the way I thought about her.
As the years progressed, I started to wake up to the reality of my marriage. It was an obligation, a responsibility, and I was slowly giving away pieces of myself. Even the sex had become a joyless duty that was about as interesting as cleaning a bathroom. My marriage was a giant lie and a fraud, but I am a good actor and played my part for as long as I could. The best thing my ex-wife ever did for me was leave to go to school in another city. It took a awhile, but I started to realize that I could be a capable single father, that I was tired of saying “yes dear,” and that at thirty-seven women hit on me a lot more than in my twenties. But, there was only one person I’d risk everything for, and she was gone years ago.
In September 2011 I received a friend request on Facebook from her. We hadn’t spoken in over ten years, and I almost ignored it, but I couldn’t. We began messaging each other and catching up on our lives, and the more we talked the more I knew we had been meant for each other. Both of us had remained active and in shape over the years. We were both runners, and she wanted to get into backpacking and hiking, which I was doing a lot of. I had become a teacher working primarily with at-risk students, and she had become a special education teacher and was pursuing a doctorate in school psychology. Both of us longed to travel, but the reality of family and low paying jobs kept us at home. But there were other things we couldn’t say and couldn’t know, so we did our best to be friends. I sensed that a Pandora’s Box had been opened, and though I wished more than anything to be with her again, I couldn’t see how. I assumed she was happily married, and even though my marriage was unfulfilling, I couldn’t see leaving.
The wheels of fate really began to turn a month later. I was putting everything I could into my marriage, but when the kids and I drove down to see my wife and surprise her, she asked us to leave. It had been nearly two months since we had seen her. It was in that moment that I knew we were done. I tried to come back from it, tried to move on, tried to be an understanding spouse, but I was done. Something inside me finally broke. During this time I had also planned a backpacking trip for just after Christmas, so I could get a break from single parent duty. The trip was kind of a bust. Snow forced my hiking partner and I out a day earlier than we planned. But, our drive home took us close to her, and she invited us to stop by. She was at her sister’s house, and we were welcome to come over, visit, and get cleaned up.
I hadn’t seen her in twelve years, and we hadn’t spoken in ten. I was terrified, and I stunk after being on a trail for three or four days. But Holy Hell, she looked amazing. In a single moment with one look the flood gates of my heart burst open. I fell completely in love with her all over again. Inside my world was turning upside down, but somehow we managed to keep the conversation away from dangerous topics. We spoke about work, kids, and the past ten years. As I left we hugged, and I had no idea that she was feeling the same way I did. We tried to stay friends, and for a couple of months we did pretty well. But then the truth came tumbling out, I couldn’t hold back anymore. She was my biggest regret and I had to let her know.
She had invited me back out to Phoenix to run with her and some friends in the “Warrior Dash,” and I decided to call her. “I’m sorry,” I started, “but my marriage isn’t in the best of shape right now. If I were to come out to run with you, it would be like a declaration of war.”
“I’m very sorry,” she said with real sincerity. “I understand. My marriage isn’t great either, and we probably shouldn’t do anything to arouse jealousy.”
We talked for a few more minutes, and I sensed the time had come. “Do you ever feel like you married the wrong person?”
That moment or two of silence was an eternity before I heard her say, “Yeah.” Her voice was filled with a longing and regret I knew all too well.
Before my courage failed, I began to say all of the things I had always wanted to say, “You’re my biggest regret. I always wished we had worked out, and you have haunted me for all of these years. I think about you every day. You’re the reason Christmas Eve is my favorite day during the year. I can’t forget our first kiss, and I wish more than anything we were together. I never stopped loving you, and I don’t think I ever will.”
I heard her crying on the other end, and a very quiet, “Oh my God.”
“What is it? Why are you crying?” My heart was about to burst.
“I’ve dreamed of hearing you say those words to me for years. I never got over you either. Every time I run, I think about you. I look for your face in crowds, and I can’t get over our first kiss.”
Choking down my tears, I said: “I love you so much. And when I saw you again, I fell completely in love with you, all over again.”
“I know. I felt it too as soon as you walked in the room. I love you too.” She was crying and overwhelmed by the moment as well. “But, what are we going to do? How can we ever be together?”
At that moment, I knew, exactly, what was going to happen. I wasn’t sure how, but I knew more than I’ve known anything else in my life. “I guess were both going to get divorced, and I’ll be yours in eighteen months. I can’t live without you, and I’ll go through any Hell to be with you.” Both of us were crying, overwhelmed, but the odyssey to reunite had begun.
Shortly after our talk, we began to exchange love and lust filled messages via Facebook. Then her husband hacked her account and read them all, unleashing a wave of drama that continues to this day. We made plans to see each other in March. Both of us wanted this to be real, but neither of us could completely believe it, and we had both grown up enough to know that we were not going blindly into another relationship without making sure of certain things.
March came, and I drove a thousand miles to see her. I have never been so incredibly nervous, but then she walked into her sister’s house after work. When we saw each other, we ran to each other. I don’t think two people have ever hugged each other so completely. “You’re here! This is happening!? I love you.” And with those words, tears of joy ran down my face.
“I’m here,” I whispered in her ear as I held her tight. “I love you so much.” We must have hugged for five minutes. Neither of us could believe this was real. We had both fantasized about a moment like this for years, but neither of us had ever thought it would happen. Pretty soon we had our second first kiss, and we knew that none of the chemistry had been lost. I remembered all of her spots and rediscovered her beautiful body. I kissed her ears, her neck, and ran my tongue over her pert nipples. She ran her fingers up my back, to my neck, and through my hair. Her lips were like coming home, and our tongues danced as if they had never been apart.
With her hand, she felt my throbbing cock and smiled, “I remember him,” she whispered.
I smiled and let my eyes take in her beautiful body. She was thin, supple, and amazingly beautiful. We had a few more scars and tattoos, but the sight of each other naked aroused us both in ways we hadn’t felt in years. She gasped as I slid into her, and I felt a warm bliss that went way beyond the physical act of sex. Our chemistry flooded back into our bodies, and as I began thrusting and stroking her, she clutched and clawed at me in wild longing and passion. The intensity of that moment overwhelmed us both. We were living our deepest fantasy to be with each other.
Usually, the fantasy is better than the reality, but not this time. This time, the reality put the fantasy to shame. She climaxed again and again, and each time she did she drew me closer to a long awaited release. As the moment arrived, I swelled inside her and my passion released, causing her to orgasm again. A part of us will live in those moments for eternity. Then we collapsed into each other. The chemistry was real. She was real. Both of us laid there thinking the same thing, “Oh my God, that really just happened.”
For the next three days, we barely left the house. In between our sessions of play, we would talk for hours. We each learned how miserable the other one was in their marriage. How bad the sex had been for her. Her husband was a small man in every way, and had no sexual prowess to speak of. Apparently his idea of sex was waking her up at two or three in the morning, not even bothering to take her shirt off, and get himself off in five minutes or less. She said she barely had to wake up for it, and it was so infrequent that she had convinced herself that she just wasn’t that into sex. Although, she had never forgotten about us, but thought that maybe it was all in her head. She wasn’t sure until we had been together again. I let her know that my wife had put on a lot of weight, and she couldn’t give good oral if her life depended on it. I had given up the idea of ever being with some one I was truly attracted to physically years ago. Then when I saw her again, all bets were off. We had discovered an insatiable appetite for each other. She was so tiny and fun.
In one session, I threw her onto the bed and ripped her pants off, diving between her legs to taste her. My hands and fingers were everywhere. My tongue slid inside of her and up to her clit. I flicked her over and over feeling her passion and excitement rise. I pinched her nipples as I licked her again and again until she went over the edge. Then I grabbed her arms, standing her up, I reached down to her thighs and lifted her onto my throbbing cock. Her legs wrapped around my, and she clung to my neck as we began to fuck standing up. She rode me until I felt her climax again in moans and screams. I wasn’t done, though. I put her on her feet and pressed her to the wall, spinning her around to see her tiny ass at my hips. Then I slid into her again, thrusting and pressing myself ever deeper into her. My time to explode was upon me. I pulled her thick, long brown hair and smacked her ass as I thrust myself into her over and over again. My hips convulsed in fits and starts as I drove one hard final stroke deep inside of her and filled her with my hot lust.
It was after that session, after fucking each other stupid, that she named my member. She said, “I remember him from high school. I thought I was just fantasizing, but he is just as I remember. He’s huge.”
Feeling equally giddy I remarked, “What? Like a horse cock?”
She smiled, and her eyes twinkled, “Mmmm… Hmmm. I love him.”
“We should call him Horace. Get it? Horace cock?”
She giggled. I was still a stupid boy in some ways, but the name stuck. “You and Horace are quite a pair.”
“We’re kind of attached. A package deal you might say.” We both laughed, and over the next couple of days we found ourselves smiling until our faces hurt.
The next eighteen months were both exciting and exhausting. There were times of utter despair and pain, but there were also visits that affirmed time and again that we were meant to be. The odds were a million to one, but we beat them. We made it through everything, and there was a lot of Hell to get through. We have known and loved each other for twenty-three years and just celebrated our one year anniversary.
Not your typical fairy tale, but it’s ours, and our fairy tale definitely belongs in the “Adult” section of love stories.