At fifteen I was a good looking kid. Almost 6ft tall and 175lbs, and I was the first guy in school to have shoulder length hair, light brown with natural gold and bronze highlights. It was the summer of love and my teenage hormones were driving me there whether I had flowers in my hair, or not. If I hadn't already discovered what my right hand was, and is really for, I think I would have exploded!
At that time the object of my desires, lust, and everything else was a girl of my own age, her name was Jayne. Blond, 34-24-34 figure, 5ft 5in of fuckshousness, and I positively drooled over the very thought of her. Luckily it seemed that she was having similar thoughts about me, and the first time we were alone together we were immediately trying to eat each other's faces off.
The thing I remember most about this first outrageous kiss was the effect it had on my insides. They looped the loop! Its not that I felt sick or anything, just a constant churning. I enjoyed it, not as much as the kissing, but it seemed somehow symbolic. The next few months I spent trying to fuck her brains out, sadly I didn't succeed, and she dumped me for someone older, with transport.
The thing that didn't happen again was that nervous tumbling of my insides, never again, that is until recently. Still a hippy at heart, my hair is now very short, the same as the stubble on my face, and both are grey. It makes me tingle even if I run my own hand over it, but when my lover does, it is electric! My whole body tingles in waves.
Separation is a desperate thing, no less because I am back in England, even for a short time. Every day I remember our lives together, the living, and the loving. The way we talk, where we've been, what we've done; the way she lays her head on my chest, exhausted after a good fuck, our legs locked together; and our kisses, I remember the passion of our kisses most of all. Love brought us together, close in mind and body, and our shared history binds us closer.
One special memory, for me, is when we played snap, and the winner could choose their pleasure. I had my mouth on her beautiful pussy for over an hour, and my tongue in side until it ached. My hands caressed her body, especially her beautiful tits, and her hands clutched and stroked my head, drawing me closer. Then, as her biggest orgasm erupted, she called my name twice, and that old, almost forgotten feeling returned. My insides churned as they had years before.
Now here is an even more remarkable thing, when I recall that ecstatic moment, as so much love flowed between us, the sensation repeats itself. I was in a cab on the way to a meeting this morning, daydreaming about us. When I got to the point where she calls my name and cums, I almost fainted with the pleasure, and also the surprise that I should experience it at this distance.
I can only guess as to the cause of this. The return of such feelings. Am I in love again for the first time since I was fifteen? Is it the loving that I still need, and hope for? Am I returning to my child hood, before I finally enter my dotage? Who cares, life is much too short to waste on such pointless questions, and I still haven't had nearly enough sex.
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Submitted by:
bix
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