Lost In Lust ( Steamy short stories)

Contents: Fingering, raw sex, shaking orgasm, stimulating.

CHAPTER

I moaned as I rubbed the vibrator in circles on my already wet pussy. My feet were curled up as I was so close to orgasm when I heard the doorbell ring. Reluctantly I got up from the bed and hid the vibrator in my wardrobe. 

I had imagined this moment for more than twenty years, even secretly while I was married. The boy with blond highlights and a loop through his left earlobe was standing right at my doorstep. He hadn't left my mind for over two decades. But now that Jake stood at my doorstep holding two dozen roses-not a boy but a man-I didn't know what to say. I let my experienced eyes scan him from bottom up without him noticing. The washed-out jeans and new black sweater suited his physique. His subtle cologne didn't completely cover the smell of the store's fresh clothing. My thoughts became lewd and dirty in an instant, but that's because I'd had them about the first man I'd made love to for twenty years.

It seems like yesterday. I swallowed through my dry throat.

But I had only known him as a teenage boy, not as a man. I often wondered whether his kisses would be as tender as they were when we were teens. Did I want them tender, or as rough as I'd imagined, ones that would penetrate my core and satisfy me for hours? I doubted I could get enough of Jake. If his teenage inexperience was any indication of his future sexual abilities, then I was sure Jake could satisfy my needs and desires.

We locked our gaze for a few minutes. I'd never forgotten the way those blue eyes pierced my soul. He was clean-shaven, but I pondered whether the day-old stubble would tickle me when he roamed my body. The roughness of his jaw line and defined cheekbones made my mouth dry up even more. Perhaps it was because I was no longer a girl and had unsatisfied needs. A shiver flew through me when I recalled my lustful dreams of us together, as a man and a woman, and I finally got the courage to speak.

"What are you doing here?" I asked.

 "I'm sorry to hear about your loss." He handed me the bouquet. The deeper tone sent another wave of jitters through my body. "Thank you." I stared, wishing I'd worn something sexier than sweat pants and a tank top. "What loss?" "Your husband. May I come in, Rose?" he asked.

The sound of crickets chimed in the distance.

"Yes, of course." I gestured for him to enter. The way my name rolled off his tongue brought back memories from the orchard. When his back was turned to me, I tugged at my ponytail and pulled the elastic off my hair. 

It fell to my shoulders, cradling my cheeks. After locking the door I turned on my heel to face him again. "Jake, it's been two years since my husband passed."

"I needed to see you."

Needed. "You did?" The memory of the girl in the orchard rushed through me. Vulnerable and open to anything he'd suggest. If Jake were to throw me on the hall floor and had his way with me now, I'd be in heaven. 

My knees felt as weak as cotton balls. I bit my bottom lip and knew my eyes had softened.

Jake looked as good as I had always remembered. A little taller than the last time I'd seen him, his arms muscular and chest high. The ruffled hair suited him much better than the mullet he used to wear.

It'd be fun to run my fingers through his hair, maybe pull on it a little. I felt a lump in my throat, and my breath quickened. I hadn't been with a man in three months. At my age, sexual needs drove me to the brink of a breakdown. When they said women in their thirties were in their prime, they weren't lying. 

There was only so much that my fingers and a vibrator could accomplish. My body was starving, but I couldn't imagine a man from twenty years ago filling the need that tickled me between the legs and wet my underwear, could I? Of course I could! Making love to Jake would be exactly that, because I had never stopped loving him.

I shook my head to get back to reality. What was I thinking? Why had seeing him created such an overwhelming rush of emotions?

I crossed my arms over my chest, realizing I hadn't put on a bra this morning and that with the thoughts that were running through my mind, my nipples had ripened to their fullest. Thankfully Jake had turned away.

"Is this a good place to talk?" He pointed to the table in the dinette.

"Let's go to the back." I gestured toward the patio door that led to the private back yard. The house was set on six acres of land, secluded in a clearing of a forest just outside of town.

We stepped out to the back. The wicker patio set included a double lounge. I'd pictured us on that mattress several times in the past few months. My wanton thoughts always wandered back to Jake, especially in the past three months of torturous abstinence. 

I wasn't ready to give in to my new boyfriend, the first serious one since my husband's death – or perhaps I didn't want to.

"Please, have a seat. Do you want anything to drink?" I asked, noting my glass of red wine on the patio table. The dozen candles scattered around the patio glowed in the night.

"No. I'll try to make it quick." His brisk tone surprised me. Quick? You just got here!

"Why? Are you in a hurry?"

"No. But I'm afraid that if I don't say what I should have said twenty years ago, I'll lose my nerve and lose you again." "Oh." I plopped down in the chair beside him. Yes, I was brave enough to be this close to Jake. I didn't want to lose him either. 

The moment I opened the door, I knew I wouldn't let him leave. Though I hadn't seen him for twenty years, my heart beat as strongly in Jake's presence as it had the day we parted. My feelings for him had never changed. "Do you live here now?" I asked. Jake and I had been on different continents most of our lives. It's what had kept me away from him: distance. 

Should it have? Should we have worked harder to be together? With my legs curled under me, I sat crossed-legged. The cool air felt liberating when I opened my legs. The tingling had become unbearable, and a bit more freedom would cool down the urge below my navel. Or so I hoped. 

"No. I'm still in Venice." We had corresponded before my husband's death, as good friends. He'd given me advice, and I'd helped him through his divorce. I had always felt guilty during my marriage for keeping in touch with a man who owned a piece of my heart, but there was no other way. Jake would forever be in my life, no matter whom I was with.

I'd had a happy and fulfilling marriage, and a wonderful career-but the heart doesn't lie. Of course I loved my husband. But once a girl's heart is stolen, it's never returned. Jake possessed a piece of my heart, and he knew it. Was I still in his as well? Was there a chance his feelings for me remained, as mine had for him?

"Are you here on business then?" My chest tightened as if a stone were sitting on top of my lungs every second.

"No, Rose. I'm here to see you." He locked his gaze with mine again. The clear eyes mesmerised me, and I wanted to get lost in them. I wanted him to be lost within me. I let my full breath out, feeling the tingle between my legs increase. Each word he spoke sent a shock through my body, right down to my sex.

Oh. 

He flew from Venice to see me...

"I shouldn't have let you go. I lost years thinking about you and only you and how stupid I was to let you go."

"It was a mutual decision. We were young. It wasn't your fault," I tried to explain.

He looked relieved. Was this really happening? The rational part of my brain argued that I didn't know him. He was a man, not the boy I'd known.

I recalled our decision when I was sixteen to see other people. Our long- distance relationship had lasted more than two years, but being away for the next ten months proved difficult. 

And we didn't know whether I could travel to Europe to see him the next summer. University was two years away. I had to work to save money for school. And so we'd decided to see how it went. See other people. Try to be teenagers on two different continents.

I'm so proud you're going to university, I remembered reading in one of his letters. We'd continued our friendship through writing, until I met my future husband and made the decision to stop our correspondence.

 If I wanted to give that relationship a chance, I knew I had to stop writing to Jake. It couldn't be any other way for me. My heart needed to heal and fall in love with someone else. I was certain if this new relationship didn't work out, I'd go back to Jake. This was the last chance I'd give my heart to fall in love with someone else, and it did. I didn't write to Jake again until after I was married.

"No. I shouldn't have let you go." He shook his head. "I was too stupid and young and afraid to tell you how I felt, and then you met Tyler."

 I lowered her head at the memory of my deceased husband.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have brought it up." His hand came closer to mine, but we didn't touch.

"It's all right. Jake, before you go any further with this, I need to tell you I'm involved with someone." I knew Jake had always appreciated my honesty. But would I push him away again? Would he let my new relationship grow, the way he had last time?

"Do you love him?" He put his hand on top of my palm over the wicker chair; the skin coarser than I recalled, but just as tender and warm. The heat flowed through my arm up to my bosom, and I remembered my hardened nipples.