Old friend
"Well, a month at most," She thought, standing on the balcony, and took a pleasurable drag of her cigarette. In a month, They were supposed to meet. Their relationship resembled running in a spiral; They would part and meet again. But each stage was unlike the previous one, each time new facets of their relationship were revealed, and because of this, it seemed as if everything was happening for the first time. Only one thing remained unchanged—the understanding that twenty years ago, They had met not by chance.
A phone call pulled her out of her thoughts. An old acquaintance was calling—they had once been friends, but that was a very long time ago. "Hi, I have a free day today, let's
meet up," a voice sounded. She didn't feel like going anywhere; in recent months, She had come to value hours of solitude. Her work involved people, so on weekends she craved loneliness. But her voice did not heed the whims of her mind: "Let's meet," was her response.Not expecting anything "useful" for herself from the meeting, She left the house. "Well, where is he? He said he'd be by the entrance in his car."
"Well, you've become quite a beauty," a low male voice sounded. She turned towards the voice and realized that his appearance had pleasantly surprised her. A tall, large-framed man, he was that young Sashka who had taught her to drink "Port" many years ago. She smiled and offered her cheek for a kiss. He held her back slightly, as if examining her, then gallantly kissed her hand. "Did you hire a butler for our meeting?" She quipped. The ice of awkwardness was "broken," They laughed and hugged like old acquaintances.
A couple of hours later, sitting in his kitchen, They drank cognac with tangerines and talked about the years that had passed. She declined his offer to go to a cafe: the reluctance to be in crowded places on weekends was persistent. Therefore, the quiet and cozy kitchen in his apartment suited her just fine. Favorite cognac, a pleasant companion—time flowed quickly and easily.
Around ten in the evening, She began to get ready to go home.
"I'll drive you." "No need, you've been drinking, and you don't have a spare license," She joked and headed for the door. His hand blocked her path. "The evening is ceasing to be 'light,'" She thought and turned sharply to him. "I think you haven't drunk enough to behave so primitively," She said in a metallic voice. Without responding to the remark, He embraced her by the waist, somehow tenderly but at the same time firmly. She smelled his scent. "Not unpleasant," her brain noted. The decision was instantaneous. "No sentimentality, I accept hard sex," She said in a businesslike tone. "I didn't know you like this," He said in a somewhat disconcerted tone. "You don't know me at all," came the reply. "Either by my rules, or not at all. Choose." He smiled and nodded affirmatively.
They entered the room, She turned to face him and began unbuttoning her blouse, looking him in the eyes. "Lights?" He asked. "As bright as possible!" She answered. "Should I put on music?" "If I'm feeling good, you won't hear the music!" Obviously understanding that talking was pointless, He began to undress.
A few seconds later, He stood naked. His cock was "growing" before her eyes, the sight was pleasant. She remained in her underwear and approached him closely. He firmly took her by the neck and pulled her down. She knelt and took his cock into her mouth. Three months of abstinence burst forth. She pleasurably swallowed his cock, gently nibbled the head, caressed his balls with her tongue. Her arousal grew. He pulled her hair, and when She released his cock from her mouth, with a sharp movement he threw her onto the bed. With a commanding hand, he placed her hands behind her head and, without excessive ceremony, entered her. She no longer held back. A cry of mounting pleasure filled the room. This spurred him on. He fucked her with increasing intensity; the floorboards creaked from his powerful thrusts, the bed shook violently. Sensing her orgasm approaching, He slowed his movement, then abruptly withdrew from her, quickly sat on the bed, and said: "Sit on my lap." For this position, her panties were a hindrance, though earlier She had completely forgotten she was wearing them. She wanted to take them off, but He beat her to it. With a rough and strong movement, he tore them off. The thin fabric offered no resistance and ripped. He impaled Her onto his cock. She threw her head back and, firmly gripping his shoulders, began to move her buttocks. The pace increased as orgasm approached. Her loud cry announced the finish of their race. Her body was "drenched" in sweat, tiny droplets of perspiration glistened on her forehead. He froze, not daring to disrupt her pleasure...
After a few minutes or seconds (who knows?) everything returned to normal. She nimbly jumped to the floor, took her things, and went to the bathroom. After dressing, she fixed her makeup, her hair, and came out into the hallway. He was sitting in the room, just as She had left him. Taking her purse, She said: "Lock the door behind me." Coming out into the hallway, He asked: "And that's it?" "That's it. Everyone got what they wanted, goodbye."
Outside, She inhaled the cool evening air of spring, then, taking out a cigarette, took a pleasurable drag, just like when the phone had rung. "Of course, that's it." — She mentally answered Sasha's question once more. — "Because I know firmly what I want."