“You want some of this?” I reached out to her, offering the bottle of straight dark rum, my voice strained through the burning caramel stinging in my throat. She looked over at her husband who paid us no mind, seemingly wrapped up in the view of the lake. Turning back to me, she shrugged and a sly smile came across her face that said, “Why not?”
There was late to a party, and then there was my unpunctuality, evident immediately upon arrival. Having to park my car down the bottom of the driveway and walk a few minutes to reach the summer house, I carried a bottle of rum in each hand by way of an apology. I crunched steadily up the gravel path in the dying heat of the day, drawn to the glowing lights and growing burble of happy conversations as yet out of view. I hadn’t expected to be back in town this weekend and bumping into old friends on the High St had been a welcome surprise, doubly so when they’d invited me to join their party tonight. I stepped through the door, greeted by a small cheer and a procession of hugs, trading the humid air for the warmth of familiar faces and the welcome of new introductions. I handed one bottle of rum to a friend and dug my nails into the foil of the other, rewarded with a pop as I worked the stopper cork free. I walked out to the patio and threw it into the lake with a flourish. We’d never been the group to finish the night with unfinished bottles. That’s when I caught my first glance of her for a long time. Maybe it was the moonlight, or the revenant haze of nostalgia, but she practically glowed. We made eye contact and I winked before turning back to my friends. Something told me we’d be chatting before long.
The relaxed festival energy flowed as the moon tracked its path through the stars. People mingled throughout the expansive house as the party wore on, yet somehow she was always close by. Our playful flirting ebbed and flowed; we’d not seen each other for years and it was great to catch up, but she was married now. While I could do my best to repress the pangs of an old crush, proximity to that wicked smart smile did not make it easy. What had it been? A decade? More? Though the years had chiselled her character and honed her wit, physically she hadn’t changed one iota; every inch of her was the sublime figure of youth from her early 20s. I was envious and suddenly conscious of the silver cropping up through my dark hair, momentarily concerned that my inability to turn down pizza was starting to take its toll on my appearance. I had enjoyed looking that bit more distinguished until I saw her. Her presence urged me to sit taller, look leaner, do anything to catch her eye. As the night progressed, however, we shared rum and life stories, enjoying filling in blanks and resurrecting old in-jokes. Eventually it dawned on me that this feeling might just be mutual, and I might just be in trouble here.
As the hours ticked by, I traded my liquor for water and began the process of saying goodbyes, becoming distracted when I noticed she seemed to have vanished. Dragging out my farewells, I hoped to find her amongst the crowd of friends and acquaintances. She was nowhere to be found, so with a heavy heart I began my solitary descent down the driveway. Staring at my feet and kicking absent-mindedly at the darkened gravel, I began to tell myself off. I knew I shouldn’t, I had no business wanting a woman so out of my league, especially a married one. We’d had a window of opportunity all those years ago, but neither of us had grasped it fully. Just like I’d missed again tonight. It was stupid. But god I had wanted her. Every moment we spoke was charged with tension and energy. I wanted to sweep her up in my arms, lift her up, and carry her off into the night. I wanted to take her. I wanted to make her mine. But I couldn’t. The choice wasn’t mine to make or offer. Filled now with unsated lust, I knew that later, alone in bed, I’d fall back on memories of her. They were sublime memories, too. It was more than physical; our chemistry and time shared together was gilded. Tonight we’d had fun unboxing and reliving those memories, happily making more in the process. I should have felt lucky, but I was on the brink of morose. Maybe I should have steered clear. A lesson for next time, I chided myself. But then I saw a shape up ahead in the dark and the weight of the world lifted from my encumbered shoulders. There she was, still radiant, leaning against my sedan.
“It was good to see you,” I said, rapidly gathering my wits. I silently thanked the gods for this second chance.
“Mmmm,” she hummed, nodding, biting her lower lip, smiling in agreement. She looked deep into my eyes, the magnetism of the night resurgent between us.
I couldn’t help myself. I enveloped her in my arms, hugging her close, as the distant porchlight struggled to find us in the dark. I wanted to behave, but the stars above us and the gravity between us made one thing clear: tonight was not the night for being good.
“We know we shouldn’t.” I told her, my lips close to her ear, hands finding their way to her hips. My fingers gripped tighter than intended, tugging her toward me. We inhaled each other’s scent, inciting a blur of lust and instinct and pent up passion. Lips and tongues met in the space between us and we pulled ever closer, bodies pressing as we melted together in the inky darkness. I was consumed with an urgency to feel her skin against mine. My hands clawed at her clothes, running up and down her back, under her blouse, fingertips digging in, leaving impressions on her skin. She slipped her hands into my back pockets and drew my hips to hers, then tickled my waist as she approached my belt buckle. I found my way under her skirt, wasting no time in jerking her panties down with insistent demand. She didn’t protest. With an adrenaline fuelled surge I lifted her onto the hood of the car. She wrapped her long legs around me as I fought to release my swollen cock. I sighed as I entered her, so hot and wet, the reality more sensuous than the fantastical crush of yesteryear. The universe vanished in that moment, save for where our bodied entwined. We continued to kiss as I held her down on the cool metal. Rough and urgent, I pushed deep inside her, fucking with surging vigour. I needed her to cum for me as much as I wanted to cum for her.
I pulled out suddenly, forcing her ass back further on the car and spreading her legs wide in one smooth motion. I was hungry now, mouth on her pussy, sucking, licking, devouring her sex. She watched me for a moment before taking my hand from her thigh. She clamped it over her mouth, closing her eyes and holding back the moans I ached to hear. I teased and probed between her legs, nibbling and licking until I found a spot that made her thighs quiver. Building a steady rhythm, licking just there, I felt her entire body tense and shake. I slid one finger inside, her pussy wet and tight and clenching. Her hands gripped my hair and held my head, which told me more was needed, and another finger began slowly fucking her as my tongue focussed on her clit. She came, her whole body simultaneously exploding in tension and melting into my mouth. I kept licking and sucking until she caught her breath.
“I need you inside me right fucking now,” she told me as she pulled me back up, kissing me as she reached down to guide me back inside her. “Please,” she gasped, “please just fuck me.” I needed no more encouragement. I fucked her with a raw passion I didn’t know was in me. We kissed as we thrust into each other, both of us craving that pinnacle of completion. I remember my surprise when she took control, having me sit on the car while she rode me and grasped my face to her breasts. I remember the wild thudding of her heartbeat. For a moment I lifted her clean off the ground, my arms lowering her onto my cock as she thrust her hips with lustful urgency, before I lifted her and set her on her feet before spinning her around and bending her over the hood. She let out a little cry of surprise as her palms squeaked against the paint, but she spread her legs for me, knowing instinctively what I was about to do. She lifted her skirt up for me and I pushed myself back inside her.
I remember grabbing her by the hips. I remember the slap of skin on skin. I remember giving into the urge to spank her pert ass and the red hand print I marked her with. I don’t remember my climax building, but I’ll never forget our ragged breathing synchronizing with our hips. Or how, in that moment, I lost myself; I literally couldn’t tell where one of us ended and the other began, succumbing, losing it all entirely to the rapture of orgasm.
She turned around and my forehead pressed to hers. We were both breathing hard, grinning with stupefied smiles, slowly becoming more and more aware of the world around us. Shapes and sounds took form again, the car, the night sky, the party beyond. We kissed playfully as we readjusted our clothes and tamed each other’s hair. After an agonising final embrace, she inched slowly backward, dragging pebbles with her bare feet.
“It was good to see you, too,” she said, turning back to the party. I leaned against my car, watching her walk back to her husband. I wondered just what could have been, slowly sank into the driver’s seat, and drove off into the night.
Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/i5yq8f/a_revenant_nostalgia