Sitting by the warm fire, whiskey in my hand I found myself drifting between what was real and what was imagined.
I could remember the taste of her lips and the scent of her perfumes overpowering me at the time. The warmth of her body wanting me to please her.
This I knew by that one odour she couldn't hide. It was strange how these things were coming to mind instead of all the actual physical interactions that were going to happen.
I stroked the arm of the chair just like as if she was still there with me. I took another mouthful and remembered how she looked up at me with those loving eyes.
Was it true she wanted me and I blew my chance? I had never felt that I lived up to what she needed in a man. Why should such a beautiful love me?
I remember her voice, her face, all the things that should have told me I loved her. But now here I sit remembering youth lost.
I finished my drink and just sat remembering.
The way her flesh was so tender and soft to the touch.How my fingers ran up and down the side of her naked body. Just tickling her enough so that those nipples rose and stayed that way. I was such a tease to her and with her.
The way sweat rolled off and down her supple breasts so I could lick her, they were beautiful and so perky. I remembered that she had never resisted as I had done this.
Thinking of her and the time we spent had gotten me hard as I sat looking into the empty glass, memories flooding back, emotions being stirred.
Feeling melancholy I also remembered the sad times.
The way when we first met and how I just treated her by stripping her and kept on having sex until she was raw.
The time in the middle where she knew how I liked being sucked and how she loved the taste of my hot cum.
She was a paradox indeed.
In the end, we parted.
It was hard to remember if it was true or false all these years later.
Maybe I will think of her again.