Once More Into The Fray.

Her Story

Del sat nervously waiting at the bar... 
Glancing up now and then to check whether or not her date had arrived yet. Couldn't help but wonder yet again, why she was here at all and how she'd let Brea talk her into agreeing to meet him in the first place. It was ridiculous she thought, surely she was far too old for this sort of carry on? As her eyes had flitted restlessly to the young people surrounding her, dressed in even less finery than she remembered wearing at their age. The music came through loud and insistent from the next room, blasting into the comparative quiet every time the doors had opened. It sounded primal, urgent, with a throbbing sexual beat that stirred the blood and called like Pan's pipe. A very wicked Pan...as she'd glanced down and seen her rebellious foot keeping rhythm of its own accord.
I guess there really is no fool like an old fool. The thought had tumbled into her brain, but it was enough. Standing now, she took one more quick look around then resolutely picked up the small glass of liquid courage and downed it in one hit. Deciding then and there to get her ass back home where it belonged and forget the whole damned thing.

Almost made it she thought, when she'd felt the touch of his hand on her arm. Looking up and into the mirror behind the bar, she'd caught her breath and nearly swooned.
Only to laugh instead, just from the sheer joy of seeing him again.
Saw them caught in a moment to the exclusion of all around them, reflected back from the glass; he tall and striking, still fit and strong even with the silver wings over his ears now. It had only added to his sheer presence, and those laughing eyes she remembered well. The specs were a nice addition and that sensual wicked mouth did nothing to hide the sheer masculinity of his handsome face. Good Lord, the things that flitted suddenly through her mind, making her ache down deep and think of things she'd not thought of in years...

He was dressed in a very expensive lightweight suit, with a crisp cotton shirt open at the throat. He wore it with a practiced abandon, a self confident assuredness that oozed from every pore. He had kept himself fit, the body beneath looked hard lean and uncompromising...like he'd have the stamina and drive to go all night long... She shook her head, where on earth had that come from? Yet he seemed oblivious to the hungry eyes he drew while she struggled to remember how to breathe and find her balance for her shattered equilibrium.

Del watched through lowered lashes as he looked her over and was pleased by the appreciative tell in his eyes, the answering grin. She stood tall too, but not quite as tall as him, a little curvier now than the once slim beanpole she'd been way back when, her hair still dark for the most part hanging loose and lush down her back. Though her face, or so she'd been told, still looked the same with a softness that Dave had said was always her most attractive feature. Dark brown eyes with just a hint of mascara, as she'd felt too nervous to experiment with more, having long since forgotten the fine art of applying makeup. A few lines at the edges of her eyes too, her life and laughter lines Dave had called them. High cheekbones and full lips that she painted the same red as her dress. It clung in all the right places and was made of a soft stretchy fabric that draped in lovely folds from the halter neck down over the swells of her breasts, before nipping in at the waist and flaring out over her hips to end just above the knees. Legs still shapely and long were nude and she'd finished the look with a pair of high soft suede black heels that matched the small clutch she held in one hand.

Turning into his waiting arms, her nipples puckering stiffly as he drew her in, the soft hairs on the back of her neck rising, her skin suddenly sensitive as she felt his smile against her cheek. She made an effort to still the tremor at his soft breath against her ear and his murmured. "Hello Del, you're still just as beautiful as I remember"

Such innocuous little words, yet they made her feel weak at the knees and had her laughing and blushing at the same time.

Del had not seen Alistair Daniels since she was twenty-three. A lot of miles between and water under the bridge, and yet here they were, standing surreal in a mutual fog of nostalgia. Distorting the present with recollections of another time and place.

She never remembered what she'd replied to him, just that he'd taken her arm and led me from the bar to a quaint restaurant nearby. Where they sat and chatted into the night, reminisced about days gone by and attempted to fill in the blanks for the years between. She became aware of the interminable ache to be filled, and not by the boy of yesterday, but by the intriguing man before her, who captivated her with his voice, his words, his light touches. A tall dark stranger in a familiar package. They'd been lovers once, then discovered they enjoyed each others friendship more. Yet it was somehow different now. A subtle something that had flared like a match in the darkness, making them both keenly aware of what was to come. Yet as if by mutual concession, they relaxed into the flirtation of senses, enjoying the building anticipation, patiently keen to draw out the lovely expectation of more.

Alistair talked of a marriage that had ended in divorce a few years back when his wife had fallen for someone else. The two sons and the daughter, all grown up and living their own lives. She smiled as she listened, hearing his voice soften with love for them. She talked of Dave and losing him, her sadness at never having a piece of him in a baby they might have made together. He'd touched her hand as she had tried a smile and said it hadn't mattered, not really... Then he'd spoken of people and places he'd met and seen and she'd been caught up in it all.
She could have listened to him all night, his voice had deepened from the young man she'd once known as she fell into the abyss and was lulled...

Then he'd taken her hand as he led her to his car, opened the door only to block it with his body and pull her flush against him. He was hot. The heat of him dispelling the cool early morning air, only to feel every delicious inch of him press against her softness. His mouth at her throat and that soft chuckle as he breathed against her skin ...and finally his mouth on hers, demanding, thrilling...


TBC....

His Story

It had been years since he'd heard from Delwyn...though once in a blue moon he'd thought of her.