Ten Years Gone — An Erotic Reunion Read Free

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    Tonight, Mareta. Tonight.
     
    For a long time, I thought that as I got older, things would get easier. Throughout my twenties, I imagined that the women I dated would become less flighty and more focused. More open to the idea of settling down. And most were, to be sure. They just weren’t interested in settling down with me.
    When I flew in for the reunion, I had reserved a Lexus at the rental agency, not sure who I was trying to impress. At home, I drove a Ford Focus because the only time I ever spent on the road was between home and work. But heading out of the hotel parking lot that night, leaning back against white leather, I reveled in the sensation of feeling younger, feeling freer than I had in a long while. My destination was the rec center where the festivities were about to get underway. My destination was a night I’d been dreaming of for a decade now.
    I still have fond memories of my first car, the vintage 280ZX I’d rebuilt most of myself, working at my dad’s autobody shop weekends and summers. I remember how much Mareta liked it, always looking for an excuse to ride with me whenever our group went anywhere. On those group excursions during the times I was dating Kim, Mareta would ride in the back, leaning forward to drape herself between our seats.
    I think Mareta knew that I was never serious about Kim. But she never fully understood how serious the relationship with her was in my mind. The dreams of what could have been.
    As I drove to the rec center and the trip back through ten years to a life I vowed I was going to remake that night, I thought about the long-ago night that I drove Mareta home.
     
    She thanks me for the ride. She leans over to kiss me on the cheek. “Sometimes I wish we weren’t such good friends,” she says. “I could really go for you.” She smiles as she opens the door. And then the smile turns to surprise as I reach across her to close it.
    I’m pulling her to me and she’s pressing into me as she squirms in her seat. My hands are in her long hair, my tongue in her mouth to feel her probing me back. Her hands are trembling, overcome with her passion as she slips them under my shirt, one pushing up, one down to where my erection strains against my fly.
    I have no idea how she gets her shirt and my pants off so quickly in the tight confines of the front seat, but she does. And as I hold my cock, she leans across the gearshift to take it in her mouth for the first time, moaning as she feels her way around my girth and hardness. I push the seat back clumsily, letting Mareta slip into place in front of the steering wheel, her gorgeous ass raised high as she goes up on her knees in her own seat.
    One handed, it takes me forever to slip her shorts off, but the reward is worth it. Her ass in the shadows is smooth and hard beneath my hand, my fingers circling around behind her, touching a trace of wetness at her pubis where it juts out between her legs.
    The fantasy is always different.
    Sometimes she takes me all the way in her mouth because I’m too turned on to hold back. Too hard for her, too hungry for her, and I scream her name as I shoot a load of sweet, sticky cum across her neck and her tits.
    Sometimes I fumble my way into her seat, kissing her hard, feeling her push her nipples to my mouth as I suck hungrily and lift her to my lap. I feel the sweet tightness of Mareta’s virgin pussy open up around me, a thing she’s saved for me and me alone, my precum and her wetness soothing my slow advance inside her.
    Sometimes we make it into the cramped back seat, where I lean back with my cock standing straight up in front me, impossibly hard. Mareta sits astride me to ride it slowly that way, taking my head with a moan, then my thick shaft. She has one hand at the dark, wet tangle of her pubic hear, the other arm constraining her hard breasts where they bounce with each of her slow thrusts against me. My arms are around her, my legs up against her ass, my skin pale