I hadn’t seen Kaitlyn in close to six years. We hadn’t stayed in touch after we went our separate ways. We’d made a clean break, both agreeing that it was the only way, that it was for the best. Although I’d missed her terribly for awhile, missed the wild sex, the parties and excitement, the spark she added to my life, I’d forced myself to think about her less and less the last few years. Sometimes of course, still, and always with longing, but not like right after we’d parted when she’d been an obsession, a deep ache in my soul, like a part of me was missing.

Still, I was surprised when I heard through a mutual friend that she was getting married… and yes, it made me ache once again, even after all that time. She’d never seemed the marrying type – me either, for that matter – and maybe some small part of me had always assumed we might end up together.

We’d spent almost five years together before we split, long enough to know that we were two of a kind, both wild and reckless, doing things just for the thrills or because they felt good, consequences be damned. That was one of the reasons we’d parted, knowing that if we stayed together we’d likely flame out, die young; but now somehow, against all odds, she was going to get married to some guy, probably settle down. It just didn’t figure.

I mulled the news for a couple days; obsessed again maybe, if I’m being honest, and then I emailed her. It was an old email address and I wasn’t even sure she still used it, all I had. I did my best to be nice, telling her I’d heard her happy news, congratulating her. I wanted to ask her if she was fucking insane, or if she’d had a lobotomy, but I kept it classy. It wasn’t easy.

If I wasn’t going to end up with Kaitlyn as it now appeared, I knew that I was unlikely to ever find a woman to spend my life with, someone that could make me happy. I’d never really thought that concept would bother me, but surprisingly it did. It seemed the emptiness I’d felt when we parted ways was still buried there, that same loneliness and hurt. That same void, all these years later.

I didn’t hear anything for the better part of a month, and then I received an email reply:

Zach, so great to hear from you! Sorry this took so long, but I rarely check this email anymore – and yes, thank you, it’s true. Can you believe it? Me, getting married! Ray is the greatest though, you should meet him. You’d like him, I think. Call me, okay? Luv ya, big guy. Kisses, Kaity

Kaity. Crazy Kaity. She’d included a phone number and a different email address. I didn’t reply, didn’t call, but I also didn’t delete the message. I put her info into my phone, but didn’t use it. I didn’t want an invite to her fucking wedding, didn’t need to know anything more about how great Ray was. Selfishly, I didn’t want to know about her happiness.

I wanted to go back to knowing that she was out there somewhere, alone like me, back to imagining that someday we’d end up together. That wasn’t possible now so I tried to forget her completely. Months passed, and then a year. More months. I lost track.

~~~~~~

That worked. For awhile, at least. But as it turned out, forgetting her also wasn’t possible, never had been. And so, hammered and sitting in the dark outside of a club I’d been tossed from after breaking some loudmouthed asshole’s nose because he was too fucking slow to block a drunken right jab, I called her.

It was stupid and selfish, and absent the alcohol I’d like to believe that I wouldn’t have done it. But, after thinking about her for a long time in my drunken and morose condition, I did. Sitting in the dirt and gravel, leaning back against the weathered log and adobe wall nursing bruised knuckles and a split lip, I listened to the phone ring several times before she answered.

“Hello?”

“Kaity, hey.”

A long silence and then, “Zach? Is that you?”

“Yeah. Yeah, it’s me. How are you, sweetheart?”

“Zach, do you know what time it is?”

I squinted at my watch. “Yeah, a little after three. You don’t have a clock there? Guess it’s a good thing I called…”

“Not funny, Zach; why are you calling now, at this hour? Why didn’t you call me before, when I asked you to? Months ago, way over a year.” She sounded a little pissed.

“I couldn’t, babe. You know me; I’d just fuck up your life.”

“No doubt. Are you okay?”

“Mmm, no. Not really. How’s married life treating you? You go through with it?”

“Yeah, Zach, I did. It’s good. It was time… past time, really.”

“Nah, you’re still young. What, twenty-six? That’s too young to get married.”

“Thirty-one, Zach. We’re both thirty-one.”

“Really? Fuck, when did that happen?”

She laughed. “You’re an idiot. Where are you?”

“Some bar.”

“Yeah, that much I figured. I meant what city.”

“Oh. Santa Fe, I think.”

“You think?”

“I mean yeah; Santa Fe. Pretty sure.”

“Pretty sure? Jesus, Zach. You want me to come and get you? We’re in Albuquerque; it’s only an hour…”

“Nah, you’re a married lady. Kaity, married lady. What would Ralph think?”

“Ray. His name is Ray. I’ve told him about us, Zach. If you need me I can be there in an hour.”

Did I need her… Hell yeah, I needed her. “No, I’m not trying to fuck up your world. I just wanted to hear your voice, I think. Goodbye, Kaitlyn. You have a great life, okay?”

As I took the phone from my ear, my heart aching as I fumbled clumsily for the ‘end call’ button, I heard her voice. “Zach, wait! Don’t go… are you still there?”

I returned the phone to my ear, uselessly and inexplicably nodding as I replied, “Yup, still here. I shouldn’t have bothered you.”

“No, it’s okay. I’m glad to hear from you, even if it is three o’clock in the fucking morning.”

I laughed. That sounded more like the Kaity I knew. “Sorry about that; I sorta lost track of the time.” Even in my inebriated condition I could hear the change in my voice as I went on, “I sorta lost track of everything, Kaity. It shouldn’t have come to this. Why did we ever decide that we couldn’t be together? That was stupid, wasn’t it? A mistake. I should have called you before you got married. Stopped you…”

She sighed, and I could hear the exasperation in it. “Don’t, Zach. You couldn’t have stopped me, my mind was made up. And it’s for the best; you and I… we were bad together, Zach, poison. We had a lot of fun, but being with you was like throwing gasoline on my fire; we’d have burned up. Burned out.”

“What a way to go though, huh? You have to admit, it was a hell of a ride.” She didn’t answer, and we listened to each other breathe for several seconds. “Don’t you ever miss it, Kaitlyn? The nights, the clubs, booze, sex… I know you miss the sex. Fuck, you were wild, insatiable; I thought I was bad, but you…”

“Stop, Zach. I don’t want to talk about that. I can’t. I’m married now, all that is behind me… my first anniversary was last Thursday, did you know that?”

“No. I’m sorry. How would I know that?”

“It’s been way over a year since you sent me that email, or since I replied, anyway. I thought maybe you’d heard when I got married, maybe that was what prompted this call.”

“No. No, I think tequila prompted this call; they don't call it liquid stupid for nothing. Crazy. Congratulations though, I’m happy for you… or at least I’m trying to be. It’s all good though, huh?”

“Yeah, Zach, it is. There are things I miss – like you – but I’m better now. A better person.”

“You were always a great person.” She remained silent. “So, about Ralph…”

“Ray.”

“Sorry, Ray; he treats you well?”

“Yes, always. He’s an amazing man. We love each other very much.”

“That’s great, Kaity; he got himself an amazing woman.” I paused, and the line was silent save for a tiny bit of white noise. “I should let you go…” I meant that in more ways than one, but she took it to mean for that moment, from the call.

“Don’t hang up. Let me come pick you up, tell me where you are.”

“Probably a very bad idea.”

“You sound like you need a friend, Zach. Come have dinner with us, maybe stay a few days. Ray will be fine with it.”

I laughed sarcastically, maybe intentionally trying to hurt her, drive her away from me and back to her new life, to safety. “I know for sure that that’s a bad idea. You said you told Ray about us. What did you tell him?”

“Everything.”

“No you didn’t. You can’t have told him everything, no man is that forgiving.” I waited, but again she remained silent. This was a new skill; the Kaitlyn I knew had never possessed this kind of patience or equanimity. “You tell him about the time you fucked me and four other guys, in that club in Amarillo? I’m sure he enjoyed that story.”

“Why are you doing this? You’re hurting, so now you want to hurt me, is that it? This is why we were bad for each other, Zach, but we don’t have to do this anymore. I’m just trying to reach out to you. We loved each other once, didn’t we?”

I could feel myself sobering up and her words hurt, made me ashamed of myself. “Yeah, Kaity, we did. I shouldn’t have said that; forget it, okay? I need to go.” I still loved her. I couldn’t tell her that.

“I told him about that, Zach, about the club in Amarillo. You and the other four guys. Everything, like I said. He knows.”

That may have been the one thing she could have said that could have kept me on the line. “If that’s true he must be a hell of a guy. How about the six months you lived with me, Blaze and Bulldog? Fuck, Kaitlyn, it took all three of us to keep you satisfied, sometimes all at once. Does your amazing guy know about that part of your life?”

“I don’t need the stroll down memory lane, Zach; I know what I did, what I was… and yes, so does Ray. He knows I’m no angel, but neither is he; he has his own history too. There are things…” she paused. “Did you know that Bulldog is dead?”

I hadn’t known that, and it rocked me. “Bobby is dead? How?”

“Some kid pulled out in front of him. He swerved to avoid him, laid his bike down but still hit him. Dumb kid only had his license for a week, didn’t get a scratch, but Bobby died instantly.”

“Fuck. I should have known about that, been at his funeral. He was like a brother to me. Fuck.” Of all of us, Bobby – Roberto - dark and tough, heavily tattooed, stocky and thick and powerfully built, had always seemed damn near indestructible. If he could die so easily it meant life was a very fragile thing. My heart ached.

“He has two kids.”

“Yeah, I did know that. They doing okay?”

“I wouldn’t think so, no. I know they needed help; one of the guys started a college fund for them. I can get you the information.”

“Yeah, do that. I’ve got some money saved, that’d be a good place to spend it.” I paused, thinking of the good times we’d had, me, Bobby, Kaity and Blaze, whose real name was Gordon but who would shoot your ass if you called him that – or, God forbid, Gordy. We’d all spent a great deal of time naked together that summer – never without Kaity in the middle, of course. At home, at the beach, at the clubs, Kaity was always up for a hard cock anytime, anywhere. Just hearing the name of South Padre Island still gave me a hardon.

It had been a fast, fun, stoned time. It felt like a long time ago now. Forever, really. “If you were trying to cheer me up that didn’t help at all, Kaity. Just so you know. Bulldog, dead. Fuck!”

“No, I know. I thought you should know is all, that you might not have heard. It was about seven months ago. He came to my wedding, Zach, but you didn’t. I wish you had.”

I sighed. “Yeah, I should have. I was wrong not to come, but it felt very wrong for me to be there too, you know what I mean?”

“I understand. Really I do.” She laughed. “At my wedding, when the preacher said ‘Love, honor and cherish’, you were on my mind. If it had been you, you would have insisted on ‘Love, honor and obey’, wouldn’t you?”

I laughed too. This was more like my Kaity. “Probably, back then. Maybe I’ve mellowed with age, like a good Scotch. A thirty year-old Scotch, as you just reminded me.”

She laughed again. “Thirty-one. Hmmm, that’s a strange idea to wrap my mind around, a kinder, gentler you. I think I’d like to meet this new, mellow you. Let me come pick you up, okay?”

“I have my truck, Kaity. I’m still working, doing pipeline inspections and certification. Did you think I was homeless, some derelict, drunken train wreck?”

“Let’s just say that it didn’t seem outside the realm of possibility. I’m glad you’re okay though, that’s good news.”

“Yeah, I’m okay. Mostly. Thanks though, for caring; it means a lot to me, even if it shouldn’t.”

“I’d love to see you, Zach. Come and see us, okay? Dinner at least, maybe stay a few days if you can swing the time off? I promise you, Ray will be fine with it. I think he’d enjoy meeting this guy he’s heard so much about, see that you’re real and not just some legend I made up.”

I shook my head, even though she couldn’t see me. “I can’t imagine. I’d think that I’d be the last person he’d ever want to meet, especially if you’ve told him about us like you say you have.”

She laughed softly. “Oh, I have. We don’t keep a lot of things from each other; that’s why it works so well.” She hesitated for several long seconds before continuing, “He knows everything, Zach, in great detail. All of it, every sordid moment.”

“There’s no way in hell that you remember every sordid moment, Kaity. None of us do, we killed way too many brain cells. Fuck, sometimes we didn’t remember shit the next day, not to mention years later.”

She laughed again. “That’s true. Let’s just leave it at he knows everything I was able to recall – which is a lot! Most of it pretty crazy, pretty wild. How did we survive those times?”

“They say the Lord protects fools and little children; He probably should have ignored us and looked out for Bobby's kids." She didn't reply and I sighed and shook my head, as if I could clear the dull ache of Bulldog's death. "I still can’t believe you told your husband about the way we were. The way you were.”

“He insisted on knowing every detail I could remember. Every little detail. I love that he wants to know about me, that he listens. He’ll probably ask you to fill in the blanks.”

“That alone is probably a good reason for me to stay away. Far away.”

“But you’ll come anyway, right?”

I sighed again. “I really would love to see you. This new, married, domesticated you. Stupid, because it will just make me hurt all over again, but there it is.” I thought for a moment, biting my lower lip, which burned like a son of a bitch, reminding me that it was split and bloody from my brief scuffle. “I have a shitload of vacation time saved up, I never take any. I could probably arrange a week off, maybe drop down for a few days. If you’re sure…”

“I am, very. I’ll text you our address, maybe a few directions. Our place is pretty easy to find. By the weekend, maybe? Friday or Saturday, it doesn’t matter; we’re not going anywhere.”

“No promises, Kaity; I’m pretty sure I won’t have any trouble getting time off, but I’m still not so sure this is a good idea. I’ll see how it looks in the light of day rather than sitting on my ass on the ground in the dark outside of a bar. With a bloody lip, I might add.”

“Fighting again? Did you lose?”

“Do I ever – other than you?”

“Awww… Just come, Zach. It will be fine. You can lay out by the pool, relax.”

“You have a pool?” I was stalling for time. I knew I’d go, that talking to her had made me want to see her. I also knew it was wrong, that it could only end in more regrets for me and maybe a screwed up life for her. To go would be selfish, something purely for me, to see what, if anything, remained of what we’d had. But she wanted me there, to see me and have me meet her husband, maybe wanted me to see that she’d made something of her life. That gave me an excuse to go despite my misgivings. It was a bullshit copout, but it let me off the hook if things went sideways – or at least that’s what I tried to convince myself of.

She was waiting for me to say something. “Saturday, Katie. Maybe. I’ll text you if something comes up, or if I change my mind. You do the same. No hard feelings if you come to your senses and decide otherwise, that you don’t want me around; you’re probably still half-asleep, and in the morning you’re going to wonder if this was all just a bad dream.”

She laughed. “No I won’t, and I won’t change my mind. And yes, we have a pool. I’ll be looking forward to seeing you.”

“Me too. Goodnight, sweetheart. You sound happy, and I’m happy for you.”

“Goodnight, Zach. I’m so glad you called, even if you did wake me up, you sorry bastard.”

I laughed. “Yeah, sorry about that. My apologies to Ralph.”

“Ray. Ray and Kaitlyn Morales. Try to keep that straight, okay?”

“Ray, yeah. Sorry.” Hearing her married name gave me a fresh pang of regret.

“Zach? I still love you.” The line went dead before I could respond. It would have taken me a few seconds to think what to say anyway, maybe longer. She’d caught me off-guard with that last comment, the last thing I’d expected to hear.

~~~~~~~

I leaned back against the coarse logs and adobe of the tavern wall, in the darkness on the side of the building and closed my eyes.

I ached knowing that Kaitlyn was married, lost to me forever, all the more so now that she’d said that she still loved me. I’d fucked up a lot of things in my life, but my relationship with Kaity was the only one I’d ever spent any time dwelling on, the only one that had ever mattered to me outside of the moment. Maybe my only meaningful regret. I could still picture her the way she’d been, young and beautiful and wild, full of fire, eager to live each moment to the fullest.

We had, too, fast and furious, each of us pushing the other out of our comfort zone, never missing an opportunity to do something new, anything, no matter how outrageous or dangerous. We climbed rocks; we even jumped out of a plane, learned to skydive. Booze, some drugs, although neither of us had ever truly gotten hooked, fast cars, motorcycles… and sex. God, anything to do with sex, mostly at her urging although I loved the thrill too.

That had been our addiction rather than drugs, the drugs merely serving to enhance the sex from time to time. When Kaitlyn got going she was almost unstoppable, and her appetite for it was contagious, dragging me along in her wake… not that I’d wasted a lot of effort resisting. Anytime, almost anywhere, rough and hard and as much as possible; it was her obsession, what drove her.

When she’d figured out that I was not averse to including others in our sexual games she’d been thrilled, like a kid in a candy store. She was a purely, undeniably sexual animal, beautiful and sensual, her toned, fit five-foot, five-inch body built for it, and her sparkling eyes, quick, teasing smile and long dark hair drew guys like moths to a flame. Women too sometimes, and we were good with that as well. What the fuck, the more the merrier, right? Far be it from me to look that gift horse in the mouth.

There were few boundaries – none, maybe – and there were times when I watched her with others and many, many times when I’d shared her, all of us together focused on her but well aware that we were having sex with each other as well, drugs or alcohol removing any inhibitions we might have felt. She’d once fucked our skydiving instructor and me on the plane, on our way up to jump, adrenaline running high. She’d leapt into the void with the crotch of her pants wet-stained with our cum, floated to earth with it still leaking out of her.

That time in Amarillo that I’d asked her about… We were in the storage room of a nightclub with me beneath her, my cock in her pussy and another guy behind her fucking her ass. She’d sucked off two others right above me as I’d watched her take their hard cocks and lick their balls. The fifth guy had watched, jerking off until one of the others had come and then had filled the void, all three of them ultimately coming in her mouth and on her face and tits as she was getting laid by the two of us.

She’d loved it, every fucking second, drunk enough to have no inhibitions, and when all five of us had come she still wanted more. It had gone on for a couple hours, each of the five of us coming on her - or in her - two or three times. At the end she’d been an exhausted, cum-filled and splattered mess, and later, back at our motel I’d gently bathed her and put her to bed.

She’d loved every filthy, perverted, cum-soaked minute of it, loved having all those cocks at her command, feeling and seeing them come for her, tasting all of our different flavors. She’d been utterly and fully satiated, one of the few times that ever truly happened. She’d slept the next twelve hours straight through.

Even now, years later, the mental image of her sucking those three hard cocks, of them spurting on her face and tits as she rode me was making me hard. Kaity always made me hard, always kept me guessing, wondering what she’d do next to satisfy herself and arouse me. That night, watching her suck off the other guys as we fucked, I’d felt the guy with his cock up her ass come. He’d held himself deep inside of her as he did, his cum-heavy balls pressed against mine and against the base of my cock, groaning and swearing as I felt his cock jerking and spasming inside of her, through the thin membrane separating us, filling her ass with his cum.

I’d felt that many times with Kaity, that sensation of another guy coming in her, and many times I’d slid into her used, cum-filled pussy after another guy had just fucked her, lost in the sensation of all that sloppy wet, velvety heat enclosing my hard cock, cum leaking out of her, dripping off me. I’d loved it and I knew she did, all part of the wild abandon with which we’d lived life back then.

Remembering that, remembering that after I’d come inside of her on that Texas night one of those guys had taken my place, sliding his thick cock into my load in her cum-filled pussy, I was now rock hard, still fairly drunk and sitting on my ass in the dark, my cock throbbing. She’d drooled cum down her chest and onto her tits when the guys had unloaded in her mouth, and had kissed me, her face cum-streaked and her lips and tongue slippery with their loads. I’d even sucked it off her hard nipples, all that mixed, slippery cum, making her moan and grind on me.

I shook my head now, wondering how and why I did it, but one thing about sharing your woman with another guy – or multiple other guys – you had to get used the idea that it was going to get wet and wild, cum everywhere and much of it not your own. The kinkiness was accepted, shattering boundaries part of the thrill. When you’re stoned and your arousal is at a fever-pitch it just doesn’t seem to matter somehow.

Later, living with Blaze and Bulldog, it was not unusual for three or even all four of us to wake up in the same bed. She was my girl even then, that was understood, but it was also understood that the sex was free-wheeling, anything-goes… provided everyone was willing. Kaitlyn was always willing. I’d woken up any number of times to her sucking my cock while one of them fucked her from behind, or fucked her myself while she gave one of them a blowjob.

When I’d awake or walk in to find her giving one of them head she was invariably hot, wet and ready; Kaity loved sucking cock, and the taste and feel of a hard cock in her mouth always had her dripping. It was all good.

Good times, crazy times, times when we’d felt so alive, so indestructible. Immortal.

We’d been on top of the world and had thought it would go on forever. It hadn’t, of course, and now Bobby – Bulldog, the invincible one - was dead. It didn’t seem possible.

I shook off the memories and stood up, brushing the dirt and dust off my jeans. My cock was still rock-hard, the bulge in the front of my pants displaying it. I hadn’t really made any effort to hook up that night, getting into a fight instead, so I’d probably just jerk off when I got back to my motel room. Talking to Kaity, thinking about her, remembering, I could almost taste her sweet pussy, could almost feel the way it would be so warm and slippery on my tongue, her body writhing, eager and ready. It wouldn’t be difficult to lose myself in that memory, to recall the sounds, scent and taste of her and to come easily as I stroked, remembering the good times.

~~~~~~~

I went through the motions at work over the next few days, mind wandering, doing the job but never really having my head entirely in it. That’s a bad idea, a dangerous thing when you’re working with natural gas pipelines. I decided fuck it, I’d go. Go see the one woman that had ever meant anything to me, meet this incredible guy that had somehow been able to bring her the kind of happiness and peace that I never could or would have.

I shopped in the evening, going to a western-wear store for some new jeans, some boots, a couple shirts. I dropped a couple hundred on the boots, another on a new hat, a white straw Resistol; the Stetson I always wore had definitely seen better days. I hoped that the miles weren’t quite as obvious on me as they were on that old hat.

I had plenty of money, nothing to spend it on but food and booze, occasionally on women. Not hookers, just women I’d hook up with short-term, drop some bucks to keep them happy and show off a little. Get laid once in awhile. It seemed to make it a little easier for a weather-beaten, rough looking guy in worn jeans and dusty boots to get a smile, a dance, maybe a dinner date if you flashed a little money around and spent some for their benefit, let them know you weren’t some hopeless bum.

The company paid me well, put me up in motels wherever I was working. I’d stopped keeping a place or vehicle of my own years ago, never in the same state or city long enough to bother, so I had no rent or mortgage to pay, no utilities or insurance bills. I had my company truck, and on the rare occasions I wasn’t out on a job I stayed with friends or at a motel on my own dime.

It worked for me, and having so few expenses had let me build up a substantial bank account, make some investments. That allowed me to wire ten grand to the account set up for Bobby’s kids when Kaitlyn emailed me the info, as she’d promised. I’d send more later. Bobby had been a great friend, and I felt I owed him for not being there for his family in their time of grief.

Getting the time off was no problem; my boss was surprised I asked but encouraged me to go, noting that I hadn’t taken any vacation time in over three years. I got off early on Friday and went back into Santa Fe to clean up before I drove the hour down I-25 to Albuquerque. Kaitlyn had sent me their address and brief directions, and I found their house easily. I’d told her I’d see them Saturday, but I decided to just drive by; I could have stopped, Kaity would have been fine with me being a day early, I think, but I wanted to wait and see what tomorrow brought.

Good looking place, it turned out, the broad yard carefully xeriscaped, sand and pea gravel with plants native to the area; Piñon pine and scrubby Gambel oak with an assortment of yucca and prickly pear in the open areas. The house was a low, sprawling, dun-colored classic adobe structure, thick-walled and authentic, not a mass-built facsimile. Clearly she and Ray – I reminded myself that his name was Ray - were doing more than okay financially. I’d thought maybe I’d be lucky enough to catch a glimpse of Kaity, but I didn’t.

I drove on past, went and found a clean but inexpensive hotel south of town run by a nice, older Mexican guy who was very solicitous of my welfare. Ricardo. He told me a great place to get Mexican food – turned out he guided me well – and after dinner I found my way to a good-sized but rough-looking bar on San Mateo Boulevard.

I mellowed with a few drinks, feeling myself unwind as the stress slipped away, and danced with a couple of beautiful ladies. Being a big, tall rough-looking guy seemed to attract a certain type, I’d noticed, but I enjoyed their attentions, my cock becoming hard and erect as one black-haired, dark-eyed Mexican beauty (named, incongruously, Sonja) rubbed herself against me.

Other than the ladies, especially Sonja, the highlight of my evening was seeing some drunk get pepper-sprayed when he became a bit too pushy with some hard-eyed blonde and tried to follow her into the ladies room. We got a bit of the over-spray and drift, leading to coughing and watery eyes, but it was a lot of laughs, all part of the night’s entertainment.

~~~~~~~

Sonja left with me; I think we’d both known from the minute we’d met that the evening would end that way. She followed me to my motel, the ring on her finger explaining why we couldn’t go to her place. I didn’t ask any more about that. As long as it didn’t matter to her, I didn’t see any reason it should matter to me.

We didn’t spend a lot of time on foreplay, although we touched and teased as we undressed each other. She knew what she wanted and was more than ready, and while I’d have preferred to spend a bit more time exploring her beautiful body she was more interested in getting laid. I let her call the shots on that, and on condom use as well, which she never mentioned; I’d have used one if she’d asked, although I hate the damn things. And yes, I realize it’s playing with fire, but thus far I’ve never been burned.

After, when we’d finished and I’d come inside of her following several orgasms of her own, she seemed in a hurry to leave. I offered her the use of the shower, which she declined, instead slipping back into her panties and beginning to get dressed. I always wondered how that worked, these women that went home to their husband with their pussy full of my cum, but it was none of my business; I never asked.

Standing beside the bed her eyes swept my naked body, lingering on my sex. “You’ve got a nice body, Zach, a great cock; that was a lot of fun.”

“Thanks – and yeah, it was. Sure doesn’t hurt that you’re such a gorgeous woman. I’d have liked to spend a little more time exploring that beautiful playground you call a body. Hey, what the fuck, maybe we can do it again sometime.”

She continued to get dressed, not looking at me. “Unlikely, but who knows? Maybe, sure. I’ll keep my eye out for you.”

“Me too.” This was the downside, or one of them, that post-sex awkwardness where you try to think of clever things to say to each other, to someone you really don’t know despite the recent intimacy. You feel there should be some sort of bond where none exists and you know you’ll probably never see each other again, but for some reason feel the need to pretend otherwise. It was uncomfortable, and I had once thought that maybe I’d get used to it, get better at it, but that had never happened.

She felt it too, I could tell, and was in a hurry to leave. I rose and walked her to the door, still naked, and she gave my cock one last squeeze before departing. We kissed then, at the door; a goodbye kiss, I suppose, the incongruity of it being our first, last and only kiss striking me only after the door had closed behind her.

As always I was left vaguely dissatisfied, restless; I was sexually sated, yes, but there was a lingering sadness, a certain loneliness that always seemed to accompany these moments. It was a hollow, empty feeling that I chalked up to the post-sex letdown, the moment when all the pleasure-inducing endorphins that flood your system during the act fade away. It had seemed to worsen over the years, this emptiness, and I felt it strongly that night. I tried to shrug it off as I headed for the shower, but it seemed to linger.

The water coursing over me, as hot as I could stand it, I mentally wrote the evening off. Fuck it, it may have been ‘just meaningless sex’, but it had been pretty good sex nonetheless. I chose to let that count for something rather than dwell on the emptiness I felt. We’d forgotten the world and our problems for a brief time, wrapped up in each other instead, in the sensations. There was value in that. It would have to be enough.

~~~~~~~

I was still restless when I finally went to bed, but once sleep finally took me I slept the sleep of the dead; if nothing else, Sonja had helped me to accomplish that. If I dreamed at all I didn’t remember a shred of it when I awoke, and I was barely hung over. It took me a few minutes to figure out why my eyes felt so scratchy, but then I remembered the pepper spray and the poor, drunken fool crying and slobbering after he’d pushed the woman too far, earning the dousing. That was good for a laugh as I downed a couple aspirin and plenty of water for my own mild headache.

It was almost noon, but it had been after three a.m. when Sonja had left and I hadn’t gone to sleep right away. I wondered briefly about her heading home to her husband at that hour, obviously recently fucked - but again, none of my business. I showered again and dressed in my new stuff, making arrangements with Ricardo to keep the room for another night before I left. The place was clean, comfortable, quiet and cheap, and I thought it best to be prepared for any eventuality since I had no idea what the day might bring.

Not wanting to show up empty-handed I stopped at a liquor store. Once inside it dawned on me that I had no idea what Kaity might like now, years after I’d last seen her. She’d been pretty open-minded about her alcohol before, not picky, although beer and tequila had been high on her list. Once loosened up with those, however, anything was good.

I wandered aimlessly for a few minutes, trying to decide how to approach the problem when a store clerk approached me instead. “Can I help you find something?”

I checked his name tag. “Maybe so, Paul. I’m having dinner with a lady I used to know and her husband, who I don’t know at all. What’s the best hooch for awkward situations?”

He laughed. “Anything strong is good for that. What do they like to drink?”

“Well, there’s the rub; I have no idea. Kaity used to like her tequila, but it’s been years. Her husband… no clue at all. And I have no idea what she’s planning for dinner.”

“Wine is always a safe bet. You could get a red and a white, cover your bases.”

I thought about that. Kaitlyn, lady-like, drinking wine from a crystal goblet, enjoying an adult beverage like an actual adult… I liked the sophisticated image, but it wasn’t something I’d ever actually witnessed. I thought maybe I’d like to. “Yeah, let’s go with that. Tell you what, let’s get a couple bottles of each, red and white.”

I glanced at the rows of wine bottles, utterly lost. I’d never realized there were so many wineries, and so many varieties. Hell, there must be almost as many wineries as there are breweries! He saw my confusion. “Do you know what you want?”

“Nope, not a clue. How do I pick the good ones, just buy whatever ‘s expensive?”

He laughed again. “No, actually that’s not at all necessary, although I’d love to sell them to you. Some of our best choices are actually pretty reasonable.” He motioned toward the racks of bottles. “May I?”

I shrugged. “Sure, you bet. I put myself in your capable hands.” He proceeded to select for me, a Cabernet Sauvignon followed by what he called “a nice Merlot”, and then we moved to the whites for a Chardonnay and a Pinot Grigio. I made it a point to remember his pronunciations of the names.

Nothing he chose was over twenty-five dollars, surprising me, and a couple were well under twenty. “Those are good ones, huh, even though they’re cheap?”

He smiled indulgently. “Yup, all of these are very good choices – and they’re not the cheapest by any means.”

“Tell you what, then; grab me another of each, white and red, make it an even half dozen. If I’m going to disrupt their lives the least I can do is stock their wine cellar. Assuming they have a wine cellar.”

He chose a couple more, a Pinot Noir and a Sauvignon Blanc. I was struggling to keep the names straight, but there was enough overlap that I was starting to see a pattern. He boxed them up for me and I thanked him for his help. I got out of there for about a hundred and a quarter, all in. Not bad!

~~~~~~~

I found my way back to their neighborhood, and then their home; I was surprised at how nervous I was, my heart pounding and my palms sweating. I’m sort of known for being stoic, fairly unflappable, but I felt entirely flappable as I pulled into their long, crescent-shaped driveway. It was a foreign and unwelcome sensation, but I knew that the anticipation of seeing her again was the reason for it.

As I rolled to a stop and got out of my truck, settling my new hat on my head, Kaitlyn came out the door onto the front patio.

God! She was so gorgeous, so stunning and sexy and feminine, her dark hair falling around her face in glistening waves and her blue eyes sparkling. She was trim and fit still, maybe a few additional pounds filling out her curves, but it just made her look better. She shined with health and vitality, her face and arms and her legs below her knee-length skirt tan and glowing. She was barefoot, and it somehow added to her already overwhelming sex appeal.

She looked happy, very happy, and I knew I’d made a mistake in coming there. Despite the passage of years Kaity looked better than she had when we’d parted ways, and I knew that not having my negative influence in her life had been good for her. And yet here I was.

She crossed to me as I came around my truck and without hesitation wrapped me in a huge hug, squeezing me tight and molding her body to mine. It was hauntingly familiar and sweet, but also painful; I’d had no idea how much I missed her touch and the sight and feel of her, her unique sensual scent, until she was there again, in my arms, and then it all came crashing back on me. I didn’t want to ever let her go again.

I had to, though. She was another man’s wife now, she no longer belonged to me, and I was a guest at their home. I’d promised myself that I’d be on my best behavior. I reluctantly released her, but she stepped back only enough to hold me at arm’s length, her hands on my biceps as she looked up at me.

Her eyes searched my face for several seconds, no doubt seeing the damage wrought by years of sun, wind, and poor life-choices, but she smiled. “God, you look great, Zach! It’s not fair that men just get better looking as they age.”

I laughed. “You were never a very good liar, but thanks.” I reached out and pushed a stray lock of hair back from her face, a simple gesture but poignantly instinctive and familiar. “Lucky for you that you don’t have to worry about that, because you haven’t aged at all. You’re stunning, Kaity. If anything you look younger, so beautiful. Married life obviously agrees with you.”

Her hands moved up to my face, gently cupping my cheeks. “It does, but I’ve missed you. It’s been too long, Zach; we never should have let it go this long.” She stretched up and kissed me, softly at first but then with more urgency. It surprised me, but it was what I’d wanted to do since the moment I’d first seen her and I pulled her to me, crushing her in a hug as our soft kiss of greeting flared into one of longing and passion and greed, full of memories, our tongues dancing. It was a sudden storm; so terribly wrong, but it felt so right.

I think we both realized what we’d allowed to happen at the same moment, and we pulled away from each other. I don’t know if my face revealed my emotions the way hers did – probably - but she looked shocked, hurt, vulnerable… maybe confused, her eyes wild and a flush of either embarrassment or arousal – or possibly shame - rushing up her neck to her face.

We backed away, putting a little space between us, a buffer zone. “I’m sorry Kaity, I shouldn’t have done that.”

She laughed softly. “No, me either. But I wanted to. I’m glad we did.”

A voice from behind me interrupted our reunion. “So, you must be Zachary; I see you two are getting reacquainted.”

I winced at Kaity before I turned to greet her husband, my apology to her for the fact that he’d obviously witnessed our embrace. She smiled and shrugged, a confusing response, and I turned to meet him – Ray, I reminded myself again. “Yup, I’m Zach, nice to meet you – and sorry about that, it’s just… you know, been a long time.”

“No es nada, I think she’s wanted to do that for years.” His accent was not pronounced, and he seemed to slip from Spanish to English and back quite easily. He offered his hand, and we shook. His grip was firm, but his hands were soft against the coarse calluses of my own. “You two were lovers once; I have no illusions that feelings so intense ever completely disappear. You mean a great deal to my wife, mi amigo – as you should.”

His forthrightness surprised me, but it was welcome. It meant less awkwardness, less time wasted pretending, for his benefit, that Kaity and I had been merely acquaintances. I’d been prepared to despise him but he was making that difficult. Who knew that we’d be “amigos” already?

Kaity made the introductions, looking at me pointedly as she reminded me of his name. Ray was a good looking guy, I suppose, dark-eyed, with thick black hair and an olive complexion announcing his Hispanic heritage, perhaps half a foot shorter than my six-foot four height but still several inches taller than Kaity. At two hundred and forty pounds I probably had at least sixty pounds on him, his build slender and trim alongside my rawboned frame.

I’m something of a mesomorph I suppose, broad-shouldered and muscular; nothing I’ve done, as I rarely work out, purely a lucky roll of the genetic dice, but I towered over both of them. I found myself slouching, not wanting to overwhelm. I was a guest in their home and I reminded myself to smile, conscious of the fact that some might find me intimidating.

Not Kaity, of course; she knows me too well. Kaity was smiling back at me, happy and excited. There didn’t appear to be any hesitation on her part, no reservations about having me there or regrets about inviting me. I grabbed the box of wine from my car and followed them into their home.

~~~~~~~

It was cool inside, a beautiful adobe home, decorated in earth tones with Saltillo tile and hardwood floors and massive, comfortable southwestern style furnishings, the cushions upholstered in Navajo and other Native American prints. There was a Navajo rug between the sofa and chairs in front of the stone fireplace, an intimate conversation area. It was a very warm and comfortable home, very welcoming, and I loved it immediately. It was something Kaitlyn deserved, but something I would never have been able to give her.

I followed them to the kitchen, another beautifully appointed room which stayed true to the southwestern theme. It was equipped with high-end appliances and expensive cabinetry, and I admired the beautiful granite countertops as I set the box of wine on the long, narrow island. The windows overlooked a beautiful patio and pool area.

Kaity slid in next to me and put her arm around my waist; she seemed to want to touch me almost as much as I wanted to touch her, as if we needed to reassure one another that we were really there, together. “God, Zach, it’s so good to see you! What’s it been? Six years… seven?”

I put my arm around her shoulders. Hell, if she was okay with the easy intimacy in front of her husband it wasn’t for me to object! “Too long, Kaity; closer to seven, I think. Too damn long.”

Ray smiled at us, taking pleasure, it seemed, in seeing Kaitlyn’s happiness. He removed the wine from the box as we talked, reading each label as he did. “These are all excellent choices, Zachary, very nice selections. Thank you for your generosity.”

I shrugged it off, saying it was the least I could do and telling him to please call me Zach, but Kaity was looking at me, surprised, her eyebrows raised. “You know about wine now? You, of all people?”

I laughed. “Nah, not even a little. The guy at the store picked ‘em for me. I know half of ‘em are red and the other half white, but that’s the grand total of my wine knowledge. Oh yeah, and he told me that just because a wine is expensive doesn’t mean it’s the best.”

Ray laughed. “Kaitlyn said you were not a pretentious man; I can see that’s true. She also cautioned me not to ask you a question unless I wanted an honest answer. I hope that’s true as well.”

I shrugged again. “For the most part, I suppose. I don’t go out of my way to hurt people, but if someone opens a door…”

He nodded, smiling, and suggested that we try the Pinot Noir I’d brought. He did the honors, pouring a generous amount in each of three stemmed wine goblets. I took my cues from them, enjoying the scent of the wine as they did before trying it. It was very good, smooth and rich on the tongue, but even sweeter was seeing Kaity handle it with such sophistication and style, savoring the wine as I’d imagined it was supposed to be done. She looked sleek and rich and confident, with a degree of calm self-assurance and class she’d not possessed when we were together. We’d been so young and stupid.

~~~~~~~

We chatted, catching up, talking about old friends and old times. Kaity and I remembered the fun and excitement, and discussed mutual friends that were now settled and married, often with kids, and how astonishing that was. I found out that Ray was an executive of some sort for Intel, at their big facility on the mesa in Rio Rancho, which explained their obvious wealth and their comfort with the finer things.

He mostly listened, smiling and laughing along with us, but I noticed that he often subtly tried to steer the conversation to the nights and wild times, to the times of sex and debauchery and his wife’s wantonness. Kaity always caught him and redirected the conversation back to lighter things, but it was weird. I felt bad for her, obviously embarrassed by his questions.

He was planning to grill steaks for dinner, t-bones – Kaitlyn had told him that I was a pure carnivore, and that it was a safe choice – and I was left in the kitchen with Kaity, watching her prepare salads and side dishes as he took the meat out onto the expansive patio to grill. It was great to be alone with her, and I studied her as we talked while she worked.

She was so gorgeous, so sexy and sophisticated in her simple skirt and top, a small gold chain around her neck. She smiled a lot, and her eyes sparkled, and when she moved it was hypnotically graceful, with a subtly sexy femininity that had always been a part of her. She was braless, I’d felt that when she’d hugged me and my hand on her back had confirmed the absence of a bra strap, and now, aware of me admiring her, her nipples slowly hardened into pert, prominent nubs on her firm, smallish breasts.

She was aware that I’d noticed her aroused nipples, and I smiled. “That was always a good look for you.”

She laughed. “Well I didn’t do it for your benefit; you know I’ve never had any control over that.”

“No, I know. I still like it, though, your tattletale nipples.” I watched her for a moment, drinking in her loveliness. “You’re horny, aren’t you?”

“Zach! We don’t see each other for seven years and you ask me that within an hour of getting back together? What’s wrong with you?” She gave me no sign whether she was kidding or not.

I laughed. “Yeah, that was pretty awful, wasn’t it? I apologize. We’ve always had that effect on each other though.” I continued to watch her. I couldn’t seem to get enough of that. “I notice you didn’t answer my question. I am, if that helps at all – you know, to make it less embarrassing.”

She shook her head, laughing. “It doesn’t, but thanks. And yes, I am too, and I already knew you were. I’m not the only one that has visible evidence of it, you know.” She looked pointedly at my crotch, where my erection bulged against my jeans, the thick, rounded ridge extending down my left thigh.

I shrugged. “It happens. You know what you do to me, what you’ve always done. I’m not embarrassed to admit that you turn me on.”

“You were never embarrassed by anything. Pour me some more wine, will you?”

I crossed to the counter to fulfill her request as she turned toward the refrigerator to retrieve a bottle of olives. As we twisted past each other her hand brushed across the hard bulge in my pants. It could have been accidental, just a random bump, but I didn’t think so. She knew I was hard, knew exactly where my cock was, that I always dress left, and she’d spent years touching and teasing me at every opportunity. I let it pass without saying anything.

Ray came in a few moments later to get the pepper and seasoned salt for the steaks, but if he noticed Kaity’s hard nipples or the bulge of my erection he gave no sign of it. She and I chatted for a few more minutes, both of us backing away from the sexual tension between us, and we soon joined Ray at the table on the broad, shady patio to enjoy the meal.