A Weekend Reunion

When John arrived at the airport, it was all I could do to keep myself from undressing him at the curb. He has an incredible body, with a smile and personality to match. We all know someone who ignites fires deep inside. John is that kind of incredible turn-on for me. After his long flight I suspected he might need breathing room. I maintained self-control and kissed him softly, letting his arms wrap around my waist.

A smile crossed my face, as I allowed myself a brief, deep, look into his smiling eyes. We had an instant connection that returned as quickly as it had arrived the day we met. The last time I saw John was the day I dropped him at the airport’s international departures. We had spent two amazing nights together during a sweet and sexy fling. When I kissed him goodbye that warm August day, I was sure it would be the last time I would see him.

Here John was again, reentering my world. San Francisco’s quaint restaurants and gorgeous vistas are hard to resist. John loves great food and great sex, so possibilities for our weekend reunion were endless.

The weekend started at a little spa, near my house, owned by my friend Daniela. The spa is a great place to get away. Dani closes the whole spa for couples. When we arrived, she led us down the long hallway towards a sitting area with cream-colored over-stuffed couches. Alongside a plate of fresh-cut pineapple (my favorite!), glasses of champagne were already poured and waiting. Sounds of waterfalls and piano filled the room. Dani handed us both fluffy robes and recommended we change in the changing rooms to prepare for our massages.

I looked at John and started giggling. The setting could not have been any more cheesily romantic. Suddenly, I felt silly. He makes me feel vulnerable, in a good way. I figured he could accept that side of me that likes to make the most of life, even if it is sometimes over the top. Besides, one of the fun parts of getting to know someone new is sweet surprises.

After a few sips of champagne, they called us into the massage room. I had arranged for us to have body scrubs followed by Swedish massage. I wanted to start the weekend clean, soft, and relaxed. The massage therapist instructed us to get naked and climb on massage tables at the center of the small room. When John stripped out of his robe, my eyes revisited his incredible form. Those sexy shoulders weakened me in the knees.

I had forgotten the sheer magnetism we shared. I could not resist sliding across the room, wrapping my arms around his muscular core, planting several kisses down his chest. I wanted to lick and nibble all over. The excitement of the massage therapists’ return heightened my arousal. The scent of him made me crazy. For a moment I wondered how I would make it through a massage so incredibly turned on. I looked up at him, let my robe drop open, and watched his gaze drop downward.

“Get up on that table, young lady, your massage is about to start” he commanded.

He has willpower that I do not possess.

“Aaaaarrggghhh” was all I could reply.

Every cell in my body shivered as I climbed underneath the cool white linen sheet. A long sigh escaped my lips. I snuck a peek at John, who was climbing onto his own table. As he adjusted the sheet, I got a quick peek of the line that runs down his stomach, pointing towards his shaft. With memories of his last visit, I licked my lips instinctively. A sly and mischievous smile returned.

After a light knock, the therapists reentered the room and I told my body to relax. It wasn’t easy. During the scrub, the whole room filled with intoxicating smells. Every one of my senses was stimulated.

I could hear every move the therapists made when they began the massage. John moaned softly as the therapist worked his body. Those moans brought back thoughts of his climaxing in my bed. Oh god. Thoughts of his naked body so close were enough to start me dripping. The inability to reach out and grab him was a form of bondage; as if tied to a bed with silk ribbons, I couldn’t explore, touch, feel, bite, and pull. My breathing intensified as my pussy tightened. A small cry, followed by a giggle, escaped my lips. I couldn’t help the feeling of wanting to fuck the strong man whose body was so close, and yet so far, from mine.

As my therapist ran her hands along my spine, I snuck a quick peek at John. His therapist was working on his thigh. One of his tan legs, all the way to the top of his ass, was exposed. I caught a glimpse of those muscles that had pounded me so many times. I creamed the table.

At some point, amidst the moans, I hoped I would never see those therapists again. Some other part of me wished they could experience the pleasure I felt. Maybe they had creative imaginations like mine. Sex for me is incredibly mental. Many think sex involves five senses. For me, it’s six. My imagination and thoughts get me to orgasm every damn time.

Thoughts of coming brought a shiver to my body and a moan to my lips.

As the therapists neared the end of the hour, I wasn’t sure I wanted the massage to end. The feel of hands all over my body was so sensual. Though the only hands I really wanted to feel were John’s.

As the therapists whispered their exits, they acknowledged that the adjacent steam room was waiting for our arrival.

It took some time before I could lift myself even a few inches off the table. Peeking at John, the look on his face suggested pure satisfaction. That look matched the moans I had heard during the last hour. With more energy than required, I climbed off the table, sauntering over naked, to give him a kiss of gratitude. I started with his cheek and couldn’t help from kissing down his neck. He laughed, though I wasn’t sure if it was because he was ticklish or if he was chuckling at the eagerness of my approach.

We lumbered our way into the adjacent shower room; steam filled the room. A bench invited us to rest on large white towels.

Finally I was able to lean over and kiss him, really kiss him. I had been waiting for the opportunity to let him know how much I appreciated that August weekend. I was impressed by his body and spirit. He accepted me as me, including the sexy quirky fun side of me that not everyone gets to see. For a moment, all of my frenetic sexual energy was replaced with warmth and softness. Intimacy filled the room.

As I kissed John, my hand fell into his lap. Without a thought, my hand started to explore his muscular thigh. His hand brushed my nipple. Tongues pushed as hands explored. My whole body got aroused. The moan that escaped from my lips broke the sound of the rushing water. When he reached his tongue down to suck on my nipple, I could wait no longer.

Thoughts of him filling me inside flooded my mind. I pulled his body into mine.

Perched on the low wooden bench, I was just a few feet off the floor. John slid to his knees and looked into my eyes. He grabbed the back of my hair, pulled hard, and started kissing along my neck. My back arched as I pushed my hips into his. Fully aroused, in one swift move, he buried his cock deep into my wet and pulsing pussy. Cries escaped from my lips as he pushed inside. I bit my lip to keep from screaming out as he filled me again and again. Our breaths and bodies were in rhythm.

His cock caressed my pleasure spot until I could stand it no longer.

“I’m going to come” I whispered into his ear. “Please. Let me come. Now. I need to come now.”

Steam, sweat, and sex filled the air. I felt my pussy swell accepting his stiff cock in my box. Roughly, he ground his hips into mine.

“Oh, fuck yes” he replied.

I squeezed with every remaining ounce of my energy. My juices flowed as he unloaded white hot lightening deep inside. Our mouths met as my pussy gripped him tight, not wanting to let go.

Finally, the hunger that remained since the day we parted months ago was exquisitely satiated.

With a deep exhale, he pushed my long dark hair back behind my ear. Coyly, I looked up into those warm hazel eyes.

“That is quite a welcome…” he whispered.

I licked my lower lip, “the weekend has only just begun.”

S. Lynne

S. Lynne is a mild-mannered professor by day and a vixen by night. Though most of her writing is scientific, she indulges her sexier side by recounting true stories of romantic interludes. S. Lynne is relishing new-found freedom after the end of a 15-year relationship. With many dating sex-capades to share, she hopes to educate and inspire!

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1 Response

  1. rishav says:

    it is very sexy story.I really like this type of story.