I was flying out to reunite with some friends and family living on the East coast. I remember feeling excited, not just for the opportunity to revisit some old haunts but also to connect with a certain new stallion who just so happened to be in the area. I called Romeo to let him know about my upcoming trip. And he booked the hotel.
Yay 🙂
A little side note about your friendly neighborhood vixen: I am very careful at managing expectations. Too often in life, I have found that expectations exist to be let down. So I try very hard to approach every hope with a measure of reserve. The result is often less a crash than if I had poured too much of myself in the potential of something (or someone). But an interesting byproduct of this approach is that with the absence of expectation, there exists more opportunities for surprise.
And we all know how much I love surprises.
Needless to say, my time back in the past yielded one VERY big surprise.
I had dropped a message on social that I was coming home and would love to meet up with anyone from high school who might be available. Old friends texted. Dinners were arranged. Good times. One thing I had not anticipated was the message I received from my old high school boyfriend.
Some backstory for context: this particular ex and I had a lot of history and not all of it positive. We ended abruptly when I found out he’d been going out with a friend of mine on the side. Not the greatest feeling in the world. And to be honest, it’s something that stuck with me for years, afterward. Nevertheless, life goes on.
We chatted that evening and it was good to catch up. I didn’t think much of it…at least not until things started to get a little flirty. There was nothing overt about it. Just some casual reminiscing about the fun we used to have together. I must admit my heart began to race a little as I thought about him and some of the experiences we had shared. This continued through the night. We texted back and forth. He eventually proposed we meet the next morning.
Holy shit. I was trying to process it all. Was this really happening!? I felt nervous but also excited. I had no idea what to expect.
The morning came and I dressed in a pair of nice, tight blue jeans that framed my ass well. I chose a loose black top and a pair of black boots to complete the casual, biker-chick look and then headed out. Traveling through my hometown was surreal. Nothing had really changed in the years since I’d been there. It was like stepping back in time.
I parked my rental in the little lot we had promised to meet at and a few minutes later he arrived. Carlos. To be completely upfront, Carlos was not a Romeo or Armando. Age had softened him up a bit. Still, there was the little prickle of excitement running up and down my spine.
Carlos slipped into the passenger seat and we just sat for a while, talking.
It was good. Needed. The conversation drifted to the break up and I let him know exactly how his actions had affected me. He let me know how awful he felt about the whole thing. There was some much needed reconciliation on both our parts.
Eventually, I felt his hand drift over to grip mine. It gave me tingles. To this day, Carlos remains the only man who can make me feel that with just the touch of our hands together. My inner high school ‘me’ was clearly invested in this moment.
There came a point when the talking slowed. Our eyes connected. Our hands locked. And then he kissed me.
Now, let’s pause a sec and just recognize that this is a fantasy straight out of a zillion romance novels. And there I was living it. His lips on mine. Our tongues exploring. We parted after a few minutes and I heard it in his voice, the husky want for more:
“I know a place,” he whispered.
So we drove to that place.
It was a little road tucked away from the world. Quiet, secluded. Our own private backdrop for the next chapter of our moment’s fantasy.
I unzipped his pants and had his dick in my hands. This was a dick I had sucked years ago. And here it was again, filling my mouth.
“Am I still good at giving blow jobs?” I teased in between the kisses and licks I gave his shaft.
He could hardly speak.
“Mmmm yea…”
I grinned. But there was something more I wanted from this encounter. When it came to sex, Carlos and I had been like all other teenagers our age, inexperienced and uncertain.
“So, tell me,” I lifted back up to take his lips in mine once again, “Did you want to go further then we did in high school?”
“YEA.”
We were in the backseat. Our pants off. Our bodies pressed together. I felt the tip of his dick so near my pussy. I won’t lie. I ached for this experience; the part of our chapter we had never been able to satisfy. I rolled my hips forward, my pussy lips open to receive him. And then it happened. He pushed in deep and I squeezed around his throbbing cock. My legs wrapped about his back, coaxing the thrusts. I wanted him to fill me.
Our moans mixed. We kissed. We fucked. The car shook from our rhythms.
“I’m gonna cum,” he groaned. Carlos pushed in deep once, twice and then pulled out to shoot his warm ejaculate all over my stomach.
We were spent.
“How was that?” I teased.
And he just sighed in ecstasy.
After some time collecting ourselves and cleaning up, we headed back to his vehicle. We kissed one last time. We parted. And the chapter closed.
It was something I had needed for many years and I feel grateful for the experience, especially when so many other relationships are left unresolved. Was the sex the greatest? No. Carlos was okay. Maybe even a little underwhelming. But even that felt like resolution. Emotionally, physically, I had closure.
I also left with a new fun story to share.
“Hey babe,” my husband’s voice over the car Bluetooth as I headed back to my hotel. “How was your morning?”
“Good!…I just had sex with my ex-boyfriend from high school.”
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