Getting Reacquainted. Pt.1 [MF]

Rich walked through the old oak door with the big brass handles that he knew so well it was almost like walking through his own front door. The Black Rose, the vague and somewhat ominous sounding name may have had an actual meaning once but the bar had changed hands so many times that no one really knew what the name really meant. That is of course if it ever had any meaning at all. The glass in his hand nearly fell from his grasp and shattered on the scuffed up and well-worn wooden floor of the neighborhood bar that had become his regular haunt after he’d moved to the city several years before. His eyes went a little wider and his jaw sagged slightly, yet noticeably, agape. Noticeable to her at least, but of course she would notice as she was the one that caused the sudden and embarrassing slackness of his jaw.

“Richard!” she squealed “Oh my god, that can’t really be you.”

*Liz Parker*, he thought, *my first crush, my first love. How is this even happening?* His mind raced for something clever to say but his tongue was just as silky then as it was when he was a puppy love-struck twelve-year-old. That is to say, decidedly not silky.

“Liz,” he finally managed to blurt out “why-umm. I mean what are you doing all the way up here?”

“What? In the city? I’ve been living here for ages. After college, I got married and moved up here with my husband.” she seemed to have spit out the last word with such venom that she needed to wash away the taste of the very word from her mouth. A long sip from her cocktail served exactly that purpose, though all of this went unnoticed by Rich as he was reeling still from the mention of the word *husband*.

She finished nearly half her drink and continued on, “As far as what I’m doing in this bar, well, can’t you tell I’m celebrating?” a halfhearted raise of her glass coupled with an equally halfhearted version of a curtsy followed that made it clear that this whatever this was it was, at best, a bittersweet celebration.

“Yeah, no, I can definitely see that. Sorry, but celebrating what, exactly?” He asked, but not before sneaking a quick glance down her blouse as she performed her faux curtsy. The pale and soft flesh of her cleavage was even more perfect than he had remembered it being from when she would wear her cheerleading outfits to his parents’ house.

“Freedom, liberty, independence. You know all that uber American stuff.” She raised one eyebrow in amusement before draining what remained of her drink.

*Snarky as ever*, Rich thought, as he took a step closer to take her empty glass from her hand. “How about I get you a fresh drink and you tell me exactly what it is that you’ve gotten freedom, liberty and whatever from, huh?”

“Ooo, I like that idea.” She cooed as she ran her fingertips across his shoulder and began to strut towards the bar. The touch of her was like a lightning strike jolting through his whole body. Rich willed his feet to follow her but the refused to move just yet. His eyes were so entranced on her long, shapely legs that the rest of his body was just a little too slow to keep up with the rest of the world. His eyes worked their way up, taking in every curve and muscle hinted at and perfectly outlined by the thin fabric of her powerfully tight pants

Liz looked over her shoulder just as his gaze was taking in the welcoming and familiar curves of her taut ass and Rich had been lost in the thought of wither or not she was wearing any panties. “Who knew that little Richard Farrow would grow up and become a gentleman?” she said, licking her lips so quickly and slightly that Rich wasn’t actually sure it happened. What he was sure of however is that she had caught him as he stared. It was far from the first time, she was too gorgeous then for him to help himself and she was too gorgeous now for him to help himself.

By now his eyes had moved up to lock with hers, if only for a second, as soon as she looked back forward towards the bar his frozen legs thawed and he was quick to close the distance between them again. The gap closed fully just in time for them both to arrive at two empty stools, one of which Liz slid gracefully onto without breaking her stride. Rich, instead of taking his implied seat, raised a hand towards the nearest bartender and place their orders. “Another scotch and soda for me Mike, and for her a…” his voice trailed off unsure of what exactly the colorful concoction was that Liz had been drinking.

“Oh, just keep it simple Richard.” She said while patting his arm. “Same for me please” directed in the general direction of the bartender. Of course, she could never know the exact direction of the man behind the bar because her eyes now were the ones locked in place. Her mind had been running through some devious little thoughts as soon as she had caught him staring the first time. The second, well, that just cemented the idea in her head.

Finding his normal confidence and shedding the recently reawakened awkwardness of his you, Richard shifted his glance back to Liz’s eyes and brought back up their previous subject. “So, you still have to tell me about this whole freedom thing. I think I might just go a bit crazy with curiosity if you don’t.”

“Well, you remember me mentioning my husband before?”

Rich felt his heart sink again for a moment as he thought *Well I was willfully trying to forget that.* Though this time he took note of the way she angrily spat out that word. *Husband*. Instead of saying anything, Rich simple murmured a half noise that anyone within earshot would instantly recognize as a mumble of affirmation telling the other to please go on. He muttered this way and nodded his head just a bit, not wanting to jinx what he had already decided was the truth by giving word to it. He’d let her tell her story, even though her touches and tone had already done it for her.

“As of 2:30 this afternoon he’s now my EX-husband.” Liz exclaimed the words with equal parts glee and disdain. Though if you listened close you’d hear just a tinge of sorrow to it as well. “Lying bastard got out housekeeper pregnant. Can you believe that? Not just that he cheated on me but it’s just such a fucking cliche. Asshole.” That last word uttered a little louder than the others and much more ill timed because it was just then that Mike returned with their drinks.

Stifling a laugh, though not very well, the barman told one of his favorite regulars “No charge on this round Rich.” Before moving on to take on the demands of thirstier customers.

“Rich?” asked Liz, as if confused by the name of the man she’d been chatting with. “Why’d he call you that?”

“Everyone does, pretty much always have.”

Liz, taking on a mock scolding tone “No, no, no mister. I remember very well when I was still babysitting you that you refused to be called Rich. You absolutely hated it.”

Chuckling, Rich glanced down for a minute and then with an impish grin back up at both the girl of his young dreams and the stunning woman she’d become. “Don’t you dare expect me to believe that you didn’t know what all that was about.”

She leaned in closer to him as the words “What do you mean?” came across her soft and full lips as a puzzled look betrayed the fact that she genuinely did not know.

“That was all for you, you were my mature 18-year-old babysitter and I was desperate to look mature too. I got it in my head that Rich was a kid’s name, nearly as bad a Richie, which was what my parents had been still calling me.” He paused to take the first sip of his deliciously free drink before chuckling again and continuing. “I was absolutely mad for you, and tying my best to impress you Liz.”

“Oh honey,” Liz pouted as she did her best to put on a face of fake mocked pity “and changing your name to Richard was the best you could do?”

“Whoa, whoa now! I think I might just be a little offended by that.” His hand now resting on her knee, encouraged to move higher by the biting of her lower lip and the soft sign coming from her throat.

Placing one hand behind Rich’s neck and the other on top of the hand he had rested on her knee, Liz brought her lips to his ears and whispered “If you really wanted my attention you should have changed your name to Dick. I *love* dick.” As the words fell from her ruby red tongue Liz grabbed a tight hold of Rich’s wrist, guiding his hand to her inner thigh. Her last three words whispered into Rich’s ear just as his fingers were guided to Liz’s crotch, through the thin fabric not only did he fell the undeniably wetness of her but he also confirmed his earlier thoughts about her lack of panties. This dreamlike sequence of impossible events came to a screeching halt because within an instant of Liz uttering these unfathomable words she was on her feet, snatching a coat from the rack and out the old oak door with the big brass handles. Ignoring all pleas by Rich made from his barstool to wait. He’d have gone after her right away but the recent events made it a bit difficult for him to stand. Or at least to stand without no small amount of embarrassment.

As soon as he dared to Rich darted out the door and looked frantically up and down the street for Liz, half wondering if the encounter was even real. Dejected, rich turned to head back into the bar, consigning himself to a night spent drowning his sorrows and wondering how something that had been going so right, turned so wrong. Then from a bench tucked into a small alcove next to the bar that was normally occupied by patrons exiled outdoors to enjoy their cigarettes he heard a playful voice pout “I was starting to worry you wouldn’t come and chase me.”

“You are a very, very mean woman you know.” He half whispered, half growled as his eyes unabashedly undressed the vision of a woman lounging on the bench before him.

“Oh I know I am,” said with a wicked and toothy smile “I suppose you’ll have to punish me for it, won’t you?”

In a flash Rich closed the short distance between them and pulled Liz from her languorous pose on the bench, pressed her body firmly to the brick wall with his as his lips found the ones he’d spent so much of his youth fantasizing about. Her lips tasted of the scotch they’d both been drinking but underneath it something different, something sweeter. Like candied oranges. But it wasn’t just the flavors that he could taste on Liz’s lips, he could taste her passion and her lust. As their tongues flickered back and forth with one another he could taste the hunger inside of her and she could feel Rich’s hunger as his once again throbbingly hard cock pressed up against her body. Their hands and fingertips exploring each other’s bodies, frantic to tear off various pieces of clothing yet unwilling to do so in their not nearly private enough alcove. Still temptation won over reason, and the memory of her wetness drew Rich’s hand to find itself down the front of Liz’s pants. His fingers immediately slick from her Rich easily slid, first one and then two fingers inside of Liz’s welcoming pussy. An appreciative but soft gasp met the first finger slid inside of her, his second finger had a bit more of a pronounced reaction as Liz let out what can only be described as a combination of a moan and a yelp, which she quickly tried to stifle by covering her mouth with a free hand. She was far from quick enough and her sounds of pleasure would have easily been heard by anyone on the street, had they not been the only ones on it. The two stood there frozen for a second, bodies pressed together, his fingers still within her warm embrace, just as had grabbed a tight hold of a clutch of his hair. Almost simultaneously the two burst into fit of laughter before one of them spoke again.

“I guess maybe we should take this back to my place.” Rich suggested

“Oh really?”

“Well we can’t exactly keep this up out here now can we?”

“Mmmhmm, but you’re forgetting something. I’ve been divorced for all of seven hours now, oh and I got the house. I want you to take me back to my place and fuck me like that little prick never could. And we’re going to do it in what was his bed…and what was his shower, his home office, the kitchen, hell, every damn room we can. Dick” Her eyebrows quickly raised up then down as she stretched out her last word as far as such a short word can be.

And with that she turned away to lead him through the city streets to her home, the entire walk over the two didn’t exchange another word. Though there were many more alcoves, nooks, alleyways and just secluded enough spots for them to duck into along the way that words weren’t needed. Though their short trip took almost double the time it should have, neither Rich or Liz showed even the slightest bit of displeasure for the added time.

Source: reddit.com/r/sexystories/comments/6vuhe4/getting_reacquainted_pt1_mf