I didn’t expect to hear from Kristin again. But then I didn’t expect to ever be in a relationship with her the first time we met.

Short and blonde, with a rack and ass you would expect on a taller woman, Kristin worked for the same company I did. She was in her early twenties and I had just broken thirty. Although I liked looking at her as she jiggled both coming and going when she ran by my office late for a meeting, I didn’t see her as a possibility.

There were guys closer to her age and music preferences who pursued her, but none seemed to last very long. I figured she wasn’t looking to make a commitment.

We knew each other enough to say hello, but we didn’t cross paths much, except when she was rushing to the nearby meeting room. Then there came this new project. She was put in charge, her first real responsibility in the company.

I was surprised the day she stopped at my door and asked if I had a few minutes. I invited her to have a seat, and she enthusiastically began to talk about her project. I nodded politely until she ran out of breath. I think the look on my face made her realize that she had forgotten to mention what it all had to do with me.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” she smiled. “The reason I’m here is that I heard that you had some experience with this stuff, and I was hoping you might be willing to be a consultant for me. You see, this is my first project and I really want to get it right, and I could use whatever advice you can give me. I can’t do anything officially because I’m already over budget and actually that’s one of the things you could review for me, but I could write a memo to your boss giving you credit for your help and I would promise not to be a burden and you would just let me know if it was too much—”

“OK, OK, I’ll do what I can in my spare time,” I agreed just to get her to stop talking. Although it wasn’t my main expertise, I had worked in that area in the past and probably could be useful.

She jumped up out of her chair so fast I thought she was going to run over and give me a hug like I was a game show host who just told her she won a car. But she just stretched out her hand and shook mine as if I had just bought the most expensive used car on the lot.

Over the next six months or so, I did help out from time to time and things were going pretty well. In the process, I got to know that, despite her bubbly personality and cute looks, she was smart and hard-working.

One evening as I was about to call it a day, she stopped in my office, looking distraught. A supplier wasn’t providing what they were supposed to.

“I’ve tried everything,” she said. “I’ve nagged, begged, threatened. I even offered to sleep with him.”

“Oh my god, no!” she exclaimed at the shocked look on my face. “I only did the first three things. What kind of woman do you think I am?”

We both broke out laughing when she realized I knew she was joking in the first place and I was just feigning shock.

She got serious then and gave me the details. It turned out a neighbor of mine worked for that supplier, so I was able to get some inside information. They were hoping to force Kristin to renegotiate the contract, which would blow her budget. I found out where the supplier was having the parts made, and then had a different supplier order some. When the first supplier missed the deadline, Kristin got them from the second, on time and cheaper.

The project was a success and Kristin got promoted. I didn’t see her running to meetings anymore, but one day she dropped by. She glanced up and down the hallway before she stepped in and quietly closed the door.

“Would you like to come over for dinner sometime?” she spoke quickly, not waiting for me to ask what was up. With that out, she took a breath and continued with a more conversational pace, “I want to thank you for your help with the project.”

“Sure,” I said, figuring she was looking for career advice out of the office.

“And to get to know you better,” she added. That was unexpected, and I tried not to read too much into it.

We set a date, and I brought some wine to her small apartment. Kristin looked different in casual clothes. The tank top showed cleavage you wouldn’t see at work, and the cut-offs showed her short but shapely legs from the curve of her rear to her bare feet.

She set the bottle on the table, then turned and gave me a big, long hug.

“I’ve wanted to do this for a long time,” she said. The top of her head just reached my chin, so as I looked down, her hair tickled my nose. She rested her head against my shoulder, and her breasts were soft pressing on my chest.

“It wouldn’t have been appropriate at work,” she said. “But we’re not at work now!” Finally letting me go, she turned to get a bottle of champagne out of the refrigerator.

As we raised our glasses, Kristin said “I want to celebrate the success of the project, my promotion, and the beginning of a beautiful friendship, as Humphrey Bogart said. Of course, he only said the last part.”

After a nice dinner, we sat on the couch, and Kristin snuggled closer to me. For some reason, I still held back. Despite her obvious attractiveness, I guess I just didn’t picture us together.

She set down her glass and turned to me, speaking uncharacteristically slowly and quietly.

“I like you, a lot. I’m used to guys chasing after me, so I get to decide who I want and who I don’t want,” she said. “But I want you, and for some reason, I can’t get you to chase after me.”

I started to laugh, but when I saw her dismay, I stopped.

“Kristin, you are a smart, capable, sweet person, and anyone, including me, would love to be with you. But you have to admit,” I tried to explain my rationale to myself as much as to her, “most people would not expect you to want to be with someone like me, nor expect me to be able to be with someone like you.”

Her giggle was infectious. “I love that you said ‘nor’ instead of ‘or,’” she teased. “Do you think I haven’t thought about what some people might think? It’s why I waited this long to ask you over.”

“But I am serious,” she was quiet again. “I want …” she left it unspecific.

I don’t want to say she threw herself at me, but she bent her legs up underneath her so she was kneeling on the couch and, from her higher position, she leaned to kiss me.

Her warm lips were tentative, but mine were welcoming. I reached to hold her, and she turned herself into my arms, her soft derriere on my lap. Her hands caressed my face and neck as our tongues met between parted lips. My right hand found her left breast and as my fingers gingerly tested its softness, any hesitation I might have had disappeared.

Sensing my enthusiasm from my mouth and the growing lump against her butt, Kristin broke for a moment and pulled the tank top off. She made a few swift moves, and her bra was gone too, releasing her globes to my attention. Soft gold of exposed skin faded to the paler regions that had been kept out of the sun. So beguiled was I by these unseen treasures that I didn’t notice she had mostly unbuttoned my shirt.

I had to break contact enough to finish the job and work my arms out of the sleeves, but I was rewarded with the feel of her breasts pressing against my skin. We took time to survey the new territory, her hands stroking my chest, arms, and shoulders. Leaning her back a little, my mouth slowly journeyed down her neck to her cleavage.

Her areolas seemed small on those large mounds. I lifted her right breast to my lips and kissed her nipple. First gently, then sucking harder, my lips and tongue elicited a swelling from it, and a sigh from Kristin.

I was getting acquainted with her other breast when I started thinking ahead. Raising my face to hers, I kissed her again, then asked “How far do you want to go tonight? I didn’t bring any condoms.”

“Don’t worry about that,” she grinned, “I have enough. But we can save something for next time.”

She got off my lap and stood up, drawing me to my feet. “Let’s get more comfortable,” she said, leading me to her bedroom.

Her shorts and panties were gone in a second, and I stared at her round ass as she lit a couple candles. She stretched out on the bed, making me realize I was still half-dressed. I fumbled to get out of my shoes, socks, and pants as quickly as possible, then climbed in next to her.

Her hand found my cock as she squirmed closer to me. It was not hard to find, and it was hard. Her hand tugged it gently to sense its length. My penis is below average—some guys have to be, after all. It means I try harder, and I have had at least a few satisfied customers.

Kristin stroked my shaft with one hand while she massaged my balls with the other. Equally ambidextrous, I kneaded the larger, firmer sphere of her ass with my right hand as I played with her boobs with my left.

“I want to give you a blow job,” she said, rolling away from me so she could access the nightstand at the side of the bed. “If that’s all right with you!” she teased.

“If you insist,” I grinned back at her. She pulled a condom out of its wrapper. Kneeling between my legs, she positioned it against the tip of my dick. Unrolling it down my cock, she lowered her head and licked it like a popsicle.

“Yum,” she said, “chocolate.” Apparently, she wisely chose a flavored condom. Licking to spread her saliva all around, she held the base firmly in her hand. Wrapping her lips around it, she slowly sucked it in, her flicking tongue pressing it to the roof of her mouth.

When she reached the base of my cock, she paused. Lips-covered teeth lightly chewed as her mouth warmed my full length. Her fingers played with my testicles and the area below. She slowly withdrew, keeping that O-ring tight around my rod as she did, creating a delightful suction.

“Ohhhh”, a long low groan seemed to come all the way from my gonads.

Kristin’s eyes were bright as she looked up from my belly. She bobbed her head on my cock, going faster as her saliva made it more slippery. She stopped near the tip and tongued the most sensitive underside, the condom doing little to reduce the intensity of the sensation, and pushed me dangerously close to the edge.

“Wait!” I cried, not wanting it to be over yet. Kristin obliged by removing her mouth and pumping the shaft lightly with her hand. She paused until I started breathing again, then resumed her various techniques. Well-lubricated by her saliva, her lips, tongue, and fingers pushed me to the edge and brought me back again and again.

I began to feel selfish when she stopped just in time again, my groin burning and my body tingling all over as her hand squeezed low on my shaft, leaving the sensitive tip of my cock to throb, desperate for contact. Her face looked up at me joyfully as she licked her lips, ready to complete her work.

She built steadily, alternating hand and mouth, leaving no part of my genitals unattended.

“I’m cumming!” I announced, but she knew before I did, her hand on my taint feeling the machinery come to life. Her other hand grabbed my shaft as her lips and tongue focused on the tip. The pleasure washed over me, triggering the pumping that would soon fill the condom. She suckled the cockhead while her hand stroked the shaft.

I don’t like to think about the grunts, groans and thrashing motions I made under that onslaught of ecstasy. My nuts still tingle when I think about it years later. When I finally stopped, she crawled up on top of me, her body warm against my sweaty skin.

I kissed her gently on the mouth, my tongue tasting chocolate. I laughed against her lips and she understood. Rolling her onto her side, my hand slid down her body to part her thighs. My fingers found her mound smooth and warm. Probing cautiously, my middle finger split the divide and was treated to a wash of fluid.

Kristin gasped, then moaned softly as my fingers explored her warm folds. I pushed her thigh to get better access. She must shave or wax because every spot I touched was smooth and increasingly slippery as I distributed her lubrication. The aroma drew me to move lower.

Kristin’s hand on my cheeks held me for a moment. “Help yourself,” she gestured to the nightstand.

In addition to condoms, she had lubricant, vibrators, dildos, and dental dams. Before I opened one of the last, I quickly slipped off the condom and tossed it in the wastebasket. She rolled on her back and spread her legs, giving me my first look at her sweet pussy.

She was as hairless as my fingers had detected. Her plump outer lips concealed her delicate pink inner ones. I laid the thin sheet across her vulva and pressed the middle of it into the crevice, sliding a finger up and down its length. Kristin twitched when I crossed over her clit.

“Sorry,” I mumbled.

“I forgive you,” she giggled. “Or I will …,” she urged me to continue.

The rubber film stuck to her damp skin with some amount of slack as my fingers spread it fully open. I pressed my lips against it, feeling her warmth through it. My tongue ventured into her gap, and I vaguely sensed some berry as the wrapper had promised. Kristin’s natural scent overwhelmed it, however, and that was what I wanted to enjoy. I slowly worked my fingers lower, poking gently at her opening, circling around it, letting her know we would be back to explore it another day.

I didn’t anticipate it, but the sheet was long enough to cover her anus. Normally, that area is off limits until you get to know someone better, but I couldn’t resist completing my journey to the end of the dental dam. Her butt tensed as my finger crossed the spot.

“Sorry,” I said, hoping I hadn’t pushed my luck.

“No you’re not,” she laughed. I distracted her by getting to work with my tongue.

“That’s nice,” she sighed as I nibbled at her puffy vulva. I pressed the two sides together, rubbing them up and down against each other as well as what was buried between them. Using my fingers to spread them, I drove my tongue deep to slurp from the bottom of her opening up to where her lips converged. I kept my tongue wide and flat, gently oscillating from side to side, slowing as I reached her clit.

The return trip was quicker, but I headed north again, this time with more pressure and faster movements. I ran through my repertoire, getting reviews from Kristin’s moaning, breathing and squirming. I had no hope to match her virtuoso performance on my penis, but I wanted to show her I was trying. She helped, moving her hips to adjust the angle for maximum effect, raising and spreading her legs to let me focus on the most sensitive areas.

The wrinkled film clung so well to her skin, I had to look down to see that it was still in place. However much it might have affected her sensations, Kristin still writhed beneath my mouth. Unlike what she had done to me, I was not trying to raise and lower her excitement. It was just the usual ebb and flow as I sought for what would urge her toward the peak.

“I’m so close,” she gasped, as my mouth once more zeroed in on her clitoris. My lips massaged the spot as I gently sucked, pressing harder when her fingers on my head urged me to do so.

Her orgasm surprised me. She slammed her thighs together, pulling her knees to her chest, squirting my head out from where it had been. I wasn’t sure exactly what had happened. Kristin’s eyes were tightly closed as she rolled on her side. Seemingly unable to speak, she patted the bed behind her. I moved up to spoon her and she grabbed my arm to pull me tightly against her.

I’m glad she was facing away from me so she didn’t have to see the confused expression on my face. “That was wonderful,” she finally sighed, and I mentally jumped up and clicked my heels.

“I can’t move,” she groaned. “Would you blow out the candles?” I did and we spent the first night of many together.

The next two years were the happiest of my life. We got tested and she got birth control so we could get rid of the latex. The weekend we got the all-clear, we hardly stopped to eat—food, that is.

I don’t think I ever really figured out when things started to go bad between us. Up to the end, I thought we were OK or at least fixable. But one day she said she was moving out.

The next year was the worst of my life. Kristin didn’t hook up with anyone for a long time and I kept thinking she would come back. But then a friend mentioned she had moved in with a guy, and I finally had to try to close that chapter of my life.

Now two more years had passed, and she had invited herself over for dinner. She wanted to talk but didn’t want it to get back to her fiancé. That word was another arrow in my heart.

I couldn’t get motivated to make a real dinner on a Tuesday, so I ordered take-out Chinese food. I didn’t think about it when I placed the order, but she had to laugh when she noticed that it was our usual order from our favorite place.

Over dinner we talked around things: her new job, her new car, the plans she was starting to make for her wedding. She made subtle inquiries about my situation, and I confessed that it was back to hit and miss, as it had been before Kristin came into my life.

As I stashed the leftover boxes in the refrigerator, she took her mug of tea and made herself at home on the couch. I joined her at some distance, but she wriggled up against me. Her warm softness was so unforgettable, so desired I couldn’t push her away to save my life.

“John is good to me,” she began.

“As if I wasn’t?” I thought.

She continued, “He’s good for me. We’re good together.”

“That’s nice,” I said, probably leaking more bitterness than I should have. “So why are you here?” I tried to keep my voice neutral.

Kristin blushed a pretty shade of pink and stared at her tea. She set the cup down and reached across my chest to hug me.

“I’m so mean, using you like this, but I have to know,” she evinced some doubt.

She had worked her way under my right arm. Her face looked up at me; her eyes were shiny with emotion.

“Everything with John is good, but you and I were great. I have been hoping it would get better with him, but it seems like this is all it will ever be.”

I had no idea where she was going with this, so I just let her talk.

“It’s been three years since we were together,” she said. “Maybe I remember it better than it really was, better than it can be. I don’t know what to do.”

My mind was spinning. I was probably being as thick as I had been that first night she had me over for dinner. I naturally wanted to help, but did I dare to risk opening old wounds.

“Make love to me,” she whispered. “Please, I have to know.”

“You are the love of my life,” I said. I should have said “were” but that would have been less true.  “I don’t see how I can do this.” Now I was getting emotional. “But you know I can’t say no to you.”

She stood up and pulled me to my feet, not wanting to give me more time to analyze the situation. But my mind was in overdrive thinking about it, replaying two years of happy times.

She led me to my bedroom and began unbuttoning my shirt. She kissed my nipples, reminding me how she had taught me how sensitive they could be. She undid my belt and unzipped my pants, dropping them to my knees.

“OK, OK,” I conceded. “At least let’s get comfortable. I sat on the bed and bent to untie my shoes. I slipped them off and tossed my pants onto a chair.

Kristin had removed her blouse and bra, and stood between my knees, offering her lovely breasts. I pulled her to me, my mouth finding one stiff nipple while my thumb and forefinger found the other. The taste and smell of her body filled my mind. Had I fallen through a time warp?

As she cradled my head against her full bosom, my hands on autopilot pulled off her slacks and panties. I moved up onto the bed and pulled her on top of me, feeling her familiar weight and shape. Our mouths mashed together as my hands stroked her hair, massaged her back, and squeezed her ass. Her hand reached between us to grab my swollen cock.

Kristin knelt between my legs, leaning to take a condom from its usual place in the nightstand. She fumbled with it, out of practice. I took it and dressed my soldier, standing at full attention. I swear it felt as tight as if my penis had grown a couple sizes in anticipation of being inside her again.

She moved back on top of me, aligning the split of her vulva against the length of my rigid pole. As she humped me, it parted her plump lips, sliding in the gap, rubbing against her clit and inner lips. It was slick, more from her juices than any lube on the condom. I could feel her heat through the thin rubber.

Sometimes she used to climax grinding herself against me this way, but not today. Pushing her arms against my chest, she rose up, the new angle of her pussy bringing my bulbous head against her opening. She leaned back onto it, holding her breath until her warm flesh pressed against my balls.

I always loved looking up at Kristin’s face as she rode me, giving me better access to her chest. A smile broke across that face now as she began to bounce on my cock. My hands juggled her tits, mashing them, squeezing them together, thumbing, pinching, and tugging her nipples. She set a moderate pace; she wanted this ride to last a while. I lifted her hands to guide her to play with her own boobs—it always turned me on to watch her do that and learn what she liked. That freed my hands to grab her ass. Holding tight, I thrust up into her like a bucking horse as she rode me.

I tried not to show that I noticed as her hand slipped down her belly to finger her clit. She had always been self-conscious about it, despite my assuring her it was another turn-on for me. It was not long before her gasps said she had found her sweet spot. Her movements became more urgent, and I tried to synchronize mine with hers. Her mouth was open, but no sound escaped as the first waves of orgasm hit her. She collapsed forward onto me and I tenderly stroked her from her head to her thighs until the pleasure subsided.

The quiet moment gave me a chance to remember that this wasn’t a dream. What was I doing? Was I going to derail her life? Was this moment of ecstasy going to lead to another devastating year for me? Should I call off the fight? Should I take a dive so she could go back to her “good” life and I could get back to my whatever? Should I go all out and try to win her back?

“What’s wrong?” Kristin looked concerned. She had raised herself enough to see my puzzled face. It was a good question. I was having sex with a beautiful passionate woman I still loved. But it was part of some test or investigation I didn’t understand. The wonder and absurdity of the situation made me suddenly laugh out loud. Needless to say, that did not improve the expression on her face.

Gently holding her head in my hands, I madly kissed Kristin all over her face. “Don’t you see?” I smiled from ear to ear. “You offered a dying man his last meal, and he wants the whole menu!”

“I don’t exactly agree with that analogy,” she paused to kiss me deeply on the mouth. “But I do think I owe you some dessert.” She moved between my legs and began to lick my rubber-coated penis. “Hey,” she giggled, “this condom is pussy-flavored!”

Although my dick had lost some of its luster since giving Kristin an orgasm, she soon had it bright and shiny again.

She crawled next to me and flipped on her back, her hand reaching across her body to touch my cheek.

“I want you to fuck me,” she ordered. “I want to feel your cock spasming inside me. I want to see your beautiful O-face above me. I want to make you feel as good as you make me feel.”

Her upraised arms invited me to roll on top of her. I moved between her thighs. She bent and spread her legs, seeming to know the precise degree for the tip of my penis to enter her vagina. I paused with just the head in, making her wait and squirm as I gave her an inch at a time. When my balls pressed against her, she grabbed my ass trying to pull me deeper.

I slowly began to move in and out, feeling the electricity that I was generating course through our bodies. Almost by themselves, my hips moved faster, thrusting harder against her.

“Yes, that’s it,” her voice was ragged. “Give it to me.”

On my arms to give me more freedom of movement, I looked down on Kristin, her large breasts spread by gravity, each impact against her body sending a ripple through the soft mounds. Her eyes locked on mine, showing me her need as well as her need to give herself to me.

If it wasn’t a dream, it was a miracle. The burning in my crotch was suppressing any doubts from my brain. If it was just this, just now, that was enough. On another day, the pleasure I felt would depend on the pleasure I shared. But this moment, I closed my eyes.

I felt her legs wrap around me, her heels pressing my butt. Kristin pulled me down on top of her, demanding my full weight against her. The magma began to build up irresistible pressure deep inside me. I was long past the point of no return, but it continued to go higher and higher, so intense it was almost a pain, demanding relief. And then it was flowing, the muscles in my groin and in my arms and legs dancing to a primal beat.

Our bodies jerked against each other for a long time, gradually becoming slower and gentler. Aftershocks were displaced by afterglow.

Opening my eyes, I saw Kristin, looking dazed. I moved to roll off her, but her arms and legs held me tight. For now, she wanted a heavy, lumpy, sweaty quilt on top of her.

I don’t remember falling asleep, but when I awoke some hours later, it was dark. I was alone. I found no trace of Kristin, no note.

Maybe she was still trying to decide. Maybe she had already decided.

(I was going to end the story there, but then I thought readers might want to know what happened—as did I! Then I couldn’t decide for myself which was right, so if you want an epilogue, you can choose from one of the following or imagine your own.)

Ending 1

I got through Wednesday okay, giving her space to reach a decision. Thursday was worrying, but maybe she was telling him and dealing with the consequences. Friday was miserable. How could she leave me hanging like this?

The weekend was the worst, too much free time. By Sunday night, I had thought every possible thought about the situation. I knew I had to put it behind me and get back to the way I had been before that unexpected phone call.

It was two months later that I got the fancy envelope in the mail, her wedding announcement. She had written on it:

“We were great, weren’t we? You reminded me what it felt like, and what it took to get that. I want that with John. You called me the love of your life, and John is mine.”

“I’m sorry. Thank you.”

Ending 2

I got through Wednesday okay, giving her space to reach a decision. Thursday was worrying, but maybe she was telling him and dealing with the consequences. Friday was miserable. How could she leave me hanging like this?

The weekend was the worst, too much free time. By Sunday night, I had thought every possible thought about the situation. I was trying to figure out how to get some sleep. I had to work in the morning, and I was falling behind after three distracted days.

At first, I thought I had imagined the soft knocking. My heart was pounding when I heard it again as I walked toward the door. It was Kristin, her eyes red, her cheeks wet with tears. I felt such joy for a moment. But unlike the movie in my head, she did not run into my arms.

“I had to go away to think,” she explained, “then I needed to tell you in person. I’m going to marry John. I’m sorry.”

There was not much more to say. I quietly closed the door, unable to bear watching her walk away again.

Ending 3

I didn’t get much sleep Tuesday night. I couldn’t even jerk off to make myself drowsy. In the morning, I thought I might have dreamed the whole thing. The trash had a used condom. I was sure that was Kristin’s scent on my sheets. The leftover Chinese food seemed to prove it really happened.

At first, I thought I had imagined the soft knocking. My heart was pounding when I heard it again as I walked toward the door. This better not be the landlord I thought as I swung it open. It was Kristin, her eyes red, her cheeks wet with tears.

Her smile told me what I wanted to know. She ran into my arms, and I held her tightly. “I want great,” she said.

I called in sick for the rest of the week.

Ending 4

I didn’t get much sleep Tuesday night. I couldn’t even jerk off to make myself drowsy. In the morning, I thought I might have dreamed the whole thing. The trash had a used condom. I was sure that was Kristin’s scent on my sheets. The leftover Chinese food seemed to prove it really happened.

There was a knock at the door. It was Kristin.

“I wish you hadn’t left before we had a chance to talk,” I said, leading her to the couch.

“I’m here now,” she said. “I want what we used to have.”

“When we first got together, I told you I didn’t understand why you chose me,” I said. “Now I don’t know why you want to come back into my life.”

Kristin’s eyes grew wide. She couldn’t believe what she was hearing. I couldn’t believe I was actually saying it.

“You hurt me so much when you left me. I can forgive you, but I can’t forget it. I can’t let you do that to me again. I wouldn’t survive it.”

I could see the tears form in her eyes through my own.

We hugged as I showed her out. My voice choked as I restated the painful truth, “You will always be the love of my life.”