I wrote the stories 'My Rocking Horse' and 'After the Rocking Horse.' This is about a reunion of sorts.
In 'After the Rocking Horse,' I mentioned that Kelsey, who was the girl I had an affair with when I was in seventh and eighth grades but who went to a different high school where we lost touch, still lived in my home town.
Well, she called my mother and got my phone number and called me a few weeks ago. Why? because she recognized our story that I told you about. For some reason, I never thought about her reading Solo Touch. She does. She isn't mad or anything. In fact she is flattered that I remember her so fondly. She admitted that she often thinks of me and our time back then. Thank goodness I used our real first names.
Kelsey is married now and her husband does not know anything about what we did or that I even exist. She wants to keep it that way. However, she told me that reading our story made her realize how much she misses me. I admitted I miss her too. We talked about Solo Touch and how much we both enjoy it. She said she wondered about my story of the rocking horse (I had told her about that, if you recall) and if it was me who wrote it, but wasn't sure since many girls probably enjoyed them, even some named Cheryl.
Finally, though, she nervously confessed that she missed more than just my friendship. She had not been with another girl since being with me, and she had been fantasizing about other girls since then, as well as about me.
Well, this weekend and for the next few days, I am visiting my mom, so Kelsey and I have got together several times. We even spent the night together last night (which was Saturday the 9th) while her husband is out of town on business. It has been a wonderful reunion.
Kelsey hasn't changed much. She is fairly short, at about 5'5', I'd say. I am 5'7'. She still has soft brown hair and green eyes with hazel flecks in them and the sweetest smile I have ever known, which makes her eyes twinkle. Her body is still slender, like mine, but she has bigger boobs than she did in seventh and eighth grades. Mine are bigger than when I was 14 too, but not by much. I am a 34B. She is a bit fuller, though, a 34C. She has milk chocolate brown nipples, as before of course, and they stand out a bit now when they are excited, forming tiny points. My nipples are small raspberry colored ones that pucker more rather than stand out in points when they are excited. She shaves her pubic hair and waxes herself there to keep the stubble away (her husband insists). I have dark brown pubic hair that I keep trimmed neatly.
When I was preparing to go to her house, I was as nervous as I'd been in years. I felt as if I were going on an important date. I must have spent two hours getting ready, including trimming my pubic hair and bikini shaving. It was no secret (at least to us) what we planned to do; we both knew that we would be making love with each other last night.
I felt a little guilty about her being married, but she told me that this was different from anything her husband could provide. She had prepared a wonderful dinner of baked chicken breasts in a bed of pasta, with a green salad and bread.
When I entered her house, she closed the door and we hugged then just stared at each other. Then we both gushed out how happy we were to see each other. Not as shy as she seems to believe she is, she broke the ice, saying, 'You have no idea how often I have masturbated to memories of you.' We had discussed this stuff on the phone, but it was a bit more embarrassing in person. I admitted I had done the same, nervously adding, 'especially since we've begun talking on the phone again.'
'I have a confession,' she said to that. 'I was usually touching myself when we talked these past few weeks.' 'I was too,' I said and we laughed.
'We could have had phone sex,' she said, giggling like the school girl she was when last we'd planned anything like this. I also noted in her voice that she was only mildly kidding.
After dinner, and her assurances that her husband would definitely NOT be home, to allay my fears, we went to her bedroom. Opening a drawer beside her bed, she withdrew a book. I could see by the simple drawings of naked people on the cover that it was much like the cheap erotic novels we had shared that first night. 'I can't believe you did this!' I said.
'I want to relive that night. I was so nervous back then that you would think I was a dyke or something and freak out and want to go back home and never see me again,' she told me. We had never discussed that night, really, as far as motives were concerned. But her admission told me that she had indeed planned what happened, as I had begun suspecting as I grew older.
She excused herself to the bathroom and returned wearing only a t-shirt and panties. I followed her lead and did the same, and we were ready. More ready than we'd been ten years ago when we had done this for the first time, yet somehow more nervous, probably because we are grown now and understand the ramifications of what we were doing.
We climbed on the king-sized bed she shared with her husband ('not very good in bed' she told me, laughing), and she opened the book to the first chapter. She began reading. It involved a woman who was not finding sexual satisfaction with her husband. I began to suspect she had chosen this book on purpose, as she had the last one. The first chapter had a masturbation scene in which the heroine fantasized about another man, but the fantasy had suddenly changed to be about a co-worker of hers, a woman, although she had never before thought of women sexually before. She had been intrigued by the change in the fantasy.
I started the next chapter. Kelsey listened intently, as I had done when she read. It was just like our first time masturbating together, but of course, it would go much further than it had then. I described the unfulfilling sex the woman had with her husband that had suddenly gotten much better when she had fantasized it was a woman on top of her.
By the time we reached chapter five and the woman was going to bed with a neighbor (a woman of course), we were literally panting. She tossed the book across the room and fell into my arms. We kissed passionately and removed each other's clothes frantically. My own body was craving the touch and feel of her hands and lips. Soon, we were sucking each other's breasts and nipples. My hand moved to her mound, and it was like a flood of slippery lotion inside. I knew I was in the same shape, and the sound of her fingers pushing into me confirmed it. I was secretly happy she shaved and waxed to keep herself smooth. I think I may start doing the same.
After our first orgasms of the night sent spasms throughout our bodies, actually moving the bed from it's place on the floor we bucked so much, we settled down to a less frantic lovemaking. Spending more time with each other, we made love again. This time we simply humped each other's thigh and hip, pressing our clits against the soft flesh there until we came together for the second time that night.
I said good-bye the next day after a morning session of passionate sex and a lunch of tuna on tomato wedges. Her husband came home this afternoon (Sunday) and will be leaving again on Tuesday to return Friday. I won't be going back home until Wednesday, so we plan to sleep together again this Tuesday night.
She has given me permission to write our story for Solo Touch. I tried to get her to do so, but she refused, saying I had such a way with words and she's too shy to write that stuff.
Thank you, Solo Touch, for inadvertently putting Kelsey and me back together. It has made us both so happy. I'm just so glad I used our real first names!