Sebastian D’Anconia’s Story (M/F) part 1, long

Out of the blue, I get a call the Friday of Labor day weekend. A number I haven’t seen in a long time. The thought paralyzes me for a moment.

Its been two years, but with someone like her.. the emotional charge her name popping up on my phone will not fail to affect. In a moment, the myriad of emotions swept over me. Surprise, fear, longing… I pick up as if controlled by someone else. Hers was a call that I could not ignore. I felt a prick of annoyance that someone could such a profound effect on me without saying a word.

I answer cautiously, and it turns out she’s visiting in town, and wants to see if I would get a drink. It’s been a long time and despite my emotions, I feel over her and fine, and in fact recently got out of a bad relationship, so I said fuck it, let's go.

We meet at a bar, I'm early, and so she has to wait in line. I could help but dress up slightly, so I'm wearing a nice, tailored suit. I arrive early, and my desire for a drink belies my nervous anticipation. I wait, and text to see where she’s at. There’s a decent line forming, so I go out to see if she's out there, and she is. I pause for a moment, to take her in. It’s hard to tell if she outshone my memories, or she’s always like that. I'll have to wait a bit. She sees me and looks at me weirdly, and I wave and tell her I'll see her inside.

I move inside, not seeing my surroundings, but her long brunette hair.. her hazel eyes.. I had not known the meaning of bedroom eyes before I met her. Just an allure, a sensuality in their form, that affects you without her even trying. Her tan, accentuating her Italian/French Cajun heritage, was displayed to advantage wearing a white sleeveless shirt with a tight skirt.. she was only slightly taller than average, but with the legs she had, that went on for days, it was deceiving. She has a year on my own twenty four years of age. She had used to model, so she was no stranger to dressing to catch attention.

Once she gets inside, what do you know, it's just like old times. We had been best friends for years, until I confessed my feelings two years ago. I knew it wouldn’t change anything, you were in a relationship, and I said as much, but I had to tell you, so you would understand why I couldn’t be friends with you anymore. Why I couldn’t talk to you anymore. I wryly think to myself that nothing has changed.. it never mattered how long we were apart, it was just like pressing unpause.

We were in a loud bar/club hybrid sort of place. But even having to shout the words sometimes, we just get along, have the same humor.. I suppose this is what one calls chemistry. We bar hop until they close, it gets a little blurry. Until we’re sitting on this grassy knoll off this plaza downtown. Just talking, making a bit of fools out of ourselves in regards to yelling at strangers, but no one would take the bait! We have fun with a couple of teenagers that are loitering nearby as well and grab pictures. She describes how handsome I look, and I feel a flush of pleasure. It had been nice when she said that in the past, but it felt different, like there was some sort of possessive desire in her voice. That part was new. And it made my heart beat faster. We were reluctant to go, but we parted ways promising to see each other the next day.

I feel great about it, I haven’t had that sort of connection with anyone since… well, her, and the recent ex paled in comparison. A level of companionship that even my best guy friends don’t quite have. There’s just an ease, a comfort… it’s easy as breathing, being around her.

The next day, we drive to a local state park, and hike up to a mountain lake. I’d been there before, but didn’t realize until we got there. After teasing her for not knowing there’s a closer parking lot that would have cut out fifteen minutes of hiking with relatively heavy loads, we have a picnic of sorts, just sitting by the side of this large dam. Food and beer, enjoying it all day. Just sat, ate and drank for hours and hours. It was idyllic. I thought I saw more glances, funny moments where things seemed charged. The kind of fun summer day that seems reserved for the untroubled times of your youth, before silly things like self-esteem and awkwardness ruin things. As the sun started to set.. we look at each other, unwilling to let the day end on our companionship. So I invite you over, the night is warm, and there’s a pool in my neighborhood we could go sneak into after hours.

I come home kind of in a blur. I know I will pay dearly for this weekend, spending the carefree night and day with her, my inhibitions in the wind, so many of the old feelings rushing throughout me. That night she comes over, and we go hang out at the neighborhood pool, just fooling around again. She’s a total knock out in her bikini, without a doubt she notices my pause when I actually forget what I was saying as she disrobed. I blame it on the alcohol, and we move on, her with a smirk. We crack open another beer apiece, and sit talking for a while. I manage to impress with some talent off the diving board, and she shows off her hula hoop skills after finding one lying about, asking me to take pictures. Thankfully it was Labor Day weekend, and so we were putting the extended weekend to good use, with no obligations the next day on Sunday. Late at night, we walk the warm summer night back home.

After, we go back to my house, and it’s probably around 2 in the morning. She takes a shower, and I sit on the toilet, talking to her as she does. She seemed surprised at my gentlemanly instincts not to peek. I just wanted to be around her. She gets out, I turn around, and get in. Giving her a little peek of my incredibly white, yet nice, ass at the same time. My tan lines were pretty comical.. I am white but do get very tan during the summer. However.. most of that is from golf a few times a week, leading to downright hilariously distinct tan lines.

Feelings were flowing through me at full force as I clean the chlorine off me. And at certain times during the day, the atmosphere felt different. Heavier. As I put on some regular clothes after my shower… she came up to me and asked, almost hesitantly, if I would brush her hair.

I never had before, or any woman's for that matter, but I was willing to learn. It shocked her, apparently no man ever would before. We lie down on the queen size bed, with my laptop playing some television I had torrented on one side, us on the other. I started, and she quietly told me to brush the tips first, and then long strokes, that she liked the way it pulled her hair, so don't worry about being gentle. She took charge of it for a little while, as I didn’t want to pull too hard, but I needn’t have worried. I continue to brush even after it is clear her hair was straight, because it was intimate, and I wanted that with her. To comfort, to give her peace, and make her feel good. Especially the last part.

As this went on, the show ended, but neither of us made a move to pick the next. The house was dead silent, the lights relatively dim… and the atmosphere was back. It felt so heavy, thick, as if I was brushing her hair in slow motion. I felt so connected to her, so close; I had never felt like this before. I could feel a sort of feverish heat flowing through my body, which at the same time was making me tremble slightly.

I slowly set the brush down, and lightly drew my fingertips from her shoulder, and down her arm. So lightly, I could feel her shudder as the tingle when down her spine. I do this slowly, deliberately a few more times. I could feel the feverish heat mellow down into this slow, deep burn inside me, and yet every nerve on my body felt as if on a live wire. As if the touch of her skin shot electricity across my skin, and flames licking from under my skin.

Without thinking I slowly reach across her front, and drag my hand slowly down her neck, and across her collarbone.

The noise she made unmanned me.

Like a cross between a little mew and a sigh/moan. The sensation of what that simple little sound she made to me was incredible. Of what it meant. Of what she was feeling. I could feel the blood rush in my body, as I did it again, to the same effect on the both of us.

I slowly reached for her shoulder, and pulled her onto her back, and put my hand onto her neck, and pull her to look at me. I could see her breathing shallow, fast. I realized I was as well. In an excruciatingly slow, deliberate fashion, I bent down to kiss her, moving on top of her. We both had this low, almost disbelieving moans into each other’s mouths as we passionately made out. My hands went up to either side of her face, gripping her head through her hair, feeling every inch of her body against mine. My hands wandered down her body, slowly, firmly feeling every curve, every inch of her. Gripping her ass, pulling down her legs, feeling the back of her knees… I want all of her. My lips make their way down her neck, and up to her ear, she moans as I put my tongue inside her ear. She kissed my neck as I did this, unwilling to be parted with my body while I explored hers.

My hands could not stop moving, as if they had waited years for this moment, to touch her, caress her, make her feel what I wanted her to. I took her shirt off, slowly sucking, kissing, down her side. Grasping her breasts in both my hands, as if they were made to fit. Pinching her nipples slightly between two fingers as I slowly cupped and felt her.

This went on, and I take our shirts off, and pants, leaving us in our underwear. I lay back on the bed, and drag her on top of me. Her back to my front, so my hands could wander all over her, as I whisper in her ear, nuzzled her ears and neck, hearing her moaning as I laid slow, sucking kisses on her shoulder, her apparent weak spot. She keeps torturing me by wiggling around on my cock, that's almost bursting with need. All this time, my hands are grasping her breasts, trailing down her torso, until finally, I put my left hand around and gasp her by the neck, and snake my other hand down into her panties.

Source: reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/3gsji1/sebastian_danconias_story_mf_part_1_long