Lucky Strike

It would have been a dinner for the wedding rehearsal, if the engagement hadn't been broken off two months previously. As it was, Will had invited a few old friends to dinner in order to get out of the funk he had fallen into, and hopefully to kick start his social life.

The food had been good. The conversation was excellent. It was after midnight before most of the guest left. By one o'clock, it was only him and Angeline still talking. They were talking about why some relationships fail. She, too, had recently left a long-standing relationship that had seemed pretty good at the time.

Will was really glad Angeline had come. She had bought her ticket months before, when he had asked her to come to his wedding, and had still wanted to come after things fell apart. It had been years since they had seen one another, and it felt comfortable to sit here and talk with her about things again.

"It's not always that things are bad that causes a relationship to end," Angeline was saying. She nodded as Will held up the bottle of wine they had been sharing, and he poured the last of it into her glass. "I mean, Joe and I were fine. We liked one another a lot and had a good time together. I thought it would be forever, and that sounded good to me. But then I started having doubts."

Will understood about doubts. He had tried to talk to Sarah about them, to see if they could work through them, but apparently his doubts had been too much for her. It had been she who had called off the wedding. Will would have been pleased if she had agreed to postpone things until he could work out his feelings, but he for a while he had felt as though he had ruined his entire life.

"I mean, I loved Joe," Angeline continued, "but I worried that our relationship lacked passion. I wonder if it was ever there to begin with, or if he was only a rebound thing that went on way too long?" She sighed. "What could I do? I wanted romance. Fire. You know what I mean. For a long time, I told myself I didn't need it--that things were good otherwise, and that was good enough--but I guess I do." She frowned noting that her wine glass was empty again.

"I know what you mean," said Will. "Sarah and I, things were good. For a lot of the time, they were really good. But something was lacking. I don't think I've felt real passion since..." suddenly he blushed. To cover, he picked up the wine bottle and turned towards the kitchen. "I think there's another bottle around here somewhere."

Angeline glanced out the window at the dark sky. Earlier, there had been stars visible. It had been a warm July night, and they had eaten out of doors, but moved inside as things cooled off. But now there were no stars visible. She couldn't see the thick, dark clouds that filled the sky, but she heard a distant rumble, and saw the first drops of rain striking the glass.

She had known what will was about to say before he broke off. Nearly ten years ago, when they were 16, Angeline and Will had shared a very special bond, deeper than what passed for love between most teenagers. They had very sincerely believed that they were meant to be together forever, but circumstances had been against them. As one thing after another cropped up, they had resigned themselves to the fact that it was never going to happen.

Years had passed where they had not seen one another at all. Sometimes, Angeline had been able to tell herself it had just been silly, high school infatuation. But whenever things got difficult in her life, it was Will's arms she longed to have around her. Occasionally, she dreamed of him, and always awoke smiling.

But she had always told herself that that chapter of her life was closed, and that was that. She had missed her chance. Regret it though she may, high school was over and this was the real world. Fairy tales were all well and good, but real love was more about paying the bills together than mutual desire.

Will returned from the kitchen with the second bottle of wine, already open, and filled both their glasses again. "Where do you think we went wrong?" she asked him, then quickly added, "I mean with Joe and Sarah?"

"We have good taste in people. We both picked nice, dependable people we would like to have as friends. And then we couldn't think of breaking it off with them because we didn't want to hurt people who didn't deserve it. Isn't that usually the way?" Will had a way of seeing things clearly that Angeline had always admired.

The rain was now audible indoors, and Will heard the thunder this time. Angeline had been just about to offer to get her coat and head home so he could get to bed, when he said, "I really shouldn't let you go. You've had what? Four glasses of wine already? And in that weather, well, it's not safe. Besides," he smiled at her, and she remembered how she used to melt for those dimples, "I am really enjoying talking to you, and it would be a shame for you to go."

"Well," she said slowly (the wine was making everything about her slower and a little reckless), "I don't mind staying if you have space for me, but I wouldn't want to keep you up."

As Will protested that it would be great if she stayed, Angeline's brain began to work. Through the haze the wine had laid over her brain, she was beginning to realize that certain feelings were still very present--and is was dawning on her that there was no longer any real reason to suppress them.

"Will..." she said, taking time to choose her words carefully, "do you have any regrets? Things you would change if you could go back? I mean, not just Sarah, but anything?"

Will gazed at her. The wine was also causing his mind to work a little slower than it usually did. He thought he knew what she was talking about, but wasn't sure, and didn't think he should be the first to bring it up if she actually meant something else. He raised his eyebrows at her--his gesture for asking people to elaborate.

The wine made her blunt as well as reckless. "I mean, about us, Will. Do you wish things had turned out differently? Or that we could have worked out at all?"

A light came on in his brain, and the tiny spring of hope inside him, which had been dormant for a while, began to well up a little. She had meant what he thought!

"Of course I do," he replied. "We were such stupid kids. We had something really good--really special--but we were just too damn scared to go for it. We made excuses and let other things get in the way, until it was too late."

Those had been more or less her thoughts on the matter. Since he didn't seem like he was going to add any more to that, she took a deep breath and plunged in, her mind beginning to clear a little and her pulse increased. "Will, I don't know if I should bring this up, since it's so soon after... you know," her gesture encompassed the wedding arrangements and the breakdowns in both their recent relationships, "but I still have some really strong feelings for you, and this may be the only opportunity I ever have to ask, so I was wondering if... Would you be willing to try again?"

He almost laughed, which would have been completely the wrong reaction. Her pleading face told him she thought he would say no, when nothing could have been further from his mind. But how could she know that? Hadn't he been suppressing those feelings all these years as well? Talking about them just seemed to make them worse, so he had buried them.

His eyes softened. "Dear girl. Nothing would please me more."

They sat in silence for several moments, gazing at one another, dumbfounded by the enormity of what they had just said, hardly able to contemplate the changes it meant for their lives. It was as if the Universe had suddenly ground to a halt and begun moving in the opposite direction.

It was Will who spoke first. "I hardly know what to do now. I mean," and here he blushed, but could not say anything but the truth, "I could go with my first instinct and carry you upstairs and do to you all the things I have been wanting to do for all these years. Or I could take the time--days--weeks--whatever--to do things right, which is what you deserve."

She smiled, the wine making her response candid and honest. "On the one had, I could say, we have waited all these years; what's a few more days or weeks? But on the other hand, I don't want to wait anymore. Last time I waited with you, I lost you." She stood suddenly. "Let's go for a walk." She turned towards the door.

He was about to protest. Lightning was flashing every minute or so, and the rumbles of thunder were getting distinctly louder. Rain was falling in torrents, washing the city streets clean of their daily debris. It was his favorite kind of weather. He shrugged, grabbed his jacket, and followed her into the night.

She was standing on the sidewalk, suddenly looking less determined and more lost. "Isn't there a park near here?" she asked.

He nodded, took her arm and turned her to the right. As they walked, they began to talk about the old days, when they had been silly teenagers, too stupid to recognize what they had. The reminisced about their few wonderful kisses and the long periods of indecision in between--the phone calls, the tears, the shared dreams of the future--it all seemed real and not real at the same time.

They were wet through in under a minute, but neither of them seemed to care. The park was not well lit, so they had to pick their way through it slowly, helped and hindered by intermittent flashes of light from the sky.

A pause came in their conversation. The sort of pause you get when someone knows exactly what they want to say, but is hesitant to put it into words. At last Angeline stopped and turned towards Will. It was so dark she could barely see him. She reached out until she found his hand. "Will, how long has it been since you kissed me?"

"Too long." His soft whisper was nearly drown out by a sudden rumble of thunder. He pulled her into his arms and their lips met for the first time in five years. Angeline could feel the electricity of it from the top of her head to the bottoms of her feet. The warm glow settled in neither place, but somewhere in between.

They kissed so passionately that it seemed as though one were trying to consume the other completely--to become one through this simple joining. Though it was dark, and though it was raining, Angeline knew there were tears in Will's eyes, for she tasted the salt of them suddenly on his lips.

This, they had all done before. It was a joyous thing, and sparked many memories. Going any further would take courage--they were on new ground.

"Will, I am so tired of waiting. I have been waiting for you for too long, and I am done with that now..." She had been about to be more explicit in her meaning, but he already knew what she was saying.

"I know a place," he said hoarsely. Suddenly, he swept her into his arms, and carried rapidly and purposefully away from the park entrance. After several seconds, Angeline could hear trees swishing around them. "Here," he said finally, and laid her down on grass that, though wet, was soft and inviting.

In the next too-brief flash of light, he gazed into her eyes. "I imagined..." he said at last. "I mean, I never dared to hope, but when I thought of you, and what it would be like when we finally...well, you know I've always loved thunderstorms. This was one of the ways I imagined it. But so far this is better." She could hear the smile in his voice as he said the last bit, and wished she could see his dimples.

She took his hands and guided them to the buttons of her blouse. His fingers were trembling, so the job took about twice as long as it normally would, but at last he was able to spread his hands across her bare waist. His hands slid easily on her skin, slick with rain, as he moved them slowly upwards.

Another flash illuminated her, and she seemed to ignite with white light for a moment. The view of all that lovely bare skin seemed to flick a switch in his mind. His hands slid over her breasts, caressing gently, as though she were a small bird who might be damaged if treated too roughly. The surface of her skin was cool with rainwater, but where his hands touched, the mutual heat of their bodies made it feel as though she was burning from within.

He bent his head and took her right nipple in his mouth. She made a small sound in her throat, and arched her back, laying a hand on the back of his head to pull him closer. He swallowed a few drops of rain water, faintly salty, and tasted her more fully.

When he had taken it in his mouth, it had been soft--the softest thing he'd ever touched, he thought to himself--but after only a few seconds it was hard enough for him to take it between his teeth and tug gently without worrying about hurting her. He loved the taste of her. He let go that nipple and bent his head to the other one, savoring it.

He was dimly aware of her hands plucking at his shirt, and he raised his head to help her take it off him. She slipped the sleeves of her blouse down her arms and tossed the sodden garment away. "Isn't that better?" she murmured, he inviting smile visible in another brief second of light. He made a sound of assent, enjoying how their slick torsos moved against one another, as he clasped her to him.

He craved another taste of her, and bent his head once again, taking a long swipe with his tongue between her breasts. It must have tickled, because she giggled. He grinned and laid his cheek against her breast. Over the sound of the rain, he could hear her heart beating, and it sounded as if it were going almost as fast as his own. Excitement? Nervousness? Fear? Probably a little of each.

He loved feeling the shapes of her body. Laying a hand on her shoulder, he slowly slid it down her front, cupping her breast again briefly before continuing down, past her navel, over the sodden material of her skirt, down her thigh to her bare knee, which he squeezed briefly. After pausing there, he began to slowly move his hand back upwards, along her slick thigh underneath her skirt. When his fingers found the thin cotton panties, and trailed along them, she gasped. Her mouth quickly found his, her tongue enthusiastic against his, which gave him one of his best ideas all night.

He removed his hand, causing her to make an involuntary disappointed sound, and began to tug her skirt down over her hips. She got the idea very quickly, and arched her hips to help him, pulling down skirt and panties together. He hoped he wouldn't have to wait too long for another illuminating flash. He was quickly rewarded, the light showing her body eagerly arched and turned toward him, the soft triangle of dark hair pointing like an arrow to buried treasure.

Her hands were at the fly of his jeans, but he pushed them away. He had other ideas. With one hand, he pressed her back flat on the cool grass. With the other, he applied gently pressure to her thigh, coaxing her legs open. She was willing enough and took little encouragement. Before long, he found himself settled on his elbows between her knees. If there had been light, he would have seen her pussy like a flower opening to him, lips swollen and flushed dark pink with desire.

He laid one hand on her thigh, and reached the other out, until his fingers rested lightly on her softly-furred mound. He heard her make a sound, and felt her hips move enticingly under his hand. He knew what she wanted, but he wanted to make this last as long as possible--she deserved to have everything done properly.

With a single finger, he stroked slowly downwards, along the edge of the pouting lips. He felt moisture that had nothing to do with the rain, an heat--more than he had expected. He wouldn't have been surprised if she had radiated a soft glow. His finger continued its leisurely journey to the end of her slit, where he drew it away. She made that little disappointed sound again, but he ignored it. He brought his finger to his mouth and tasted her for the first time. The taste was like her skin, only more so, and he wanted more at once.

He drew himself towards her, laying a palm on either thigh, gently urging them farther apart. He bent his head until he could feel some of her radiant heat on his face, and his nostrils were full of her scent. She made an impatient sound and moved her hips slightly, but his hands held her firmly in place. He smiled. This was going to be fun!

"Is there something you wan, My Heart? he teased in a low voice.

"Please," she murmured. "Please, Will! I want..." but her voice trailed off. His smile broadened, and he felt a small tug at his heart. In rare dreams he had heard her beg in that tone, but he had long since given up hope of ever hearing it in real life. Well, he would see just how much he could make her beg before he was through! He blew gently on her sensitive flesh, and she squirmed a little, unsure if she were trying to escape of move closer. He took another breath of her wonderful scent, then bent his head.

Has his hot, wet mouth touched her, she fell still. His tongue explored gently, tasting her textures, finding all her secret places. She couldn't have moved if she'd wanted to, so firm was his grip on her, but for the moment, she was so amazed at what was finally happening, that she lay perfectly still, and let him learn her secrets.

When she could bear it no longer, she began to arch her back and try to raise her hips, hoping to make him take her more fully into his mouth. He read her movements correctly, but took his time at obeying them. He teased her with his tongue, toying with her clit, then sliding it inside her for a second. He was enjoying too much the soft, involuntary sounds she was making. Occasionally a word would slip out. "Please" or "yes" or "oh, God!" or "Will", and eventually "more".

He lifted his head. "More, is it?" She had opened her eyes when he stopped, and a flash of light caught a wicked grin on his face, and he saw the pleading articulate on her own. She reached out a hand and laid it on his head, urging him gently down. As he bent his head again, she sighed in contentment, leaving her had where it was, but applying no pressure.

This time he treated her pussy as her mouth, echoing the passion of their first kiss in five years by thrusting boldly and quickly, causing her to writhe and moan with pleasure. Her sharp cries, which at first punctuated the stream of her soft, muffled noises, became more frequent, and he knew that, if he didn't stop, she would come within seconds. Reluctantly, he pushed away from her. While he longed to give her ultimate release, and see what she looked like in those moments of abandon, for now he was enjoying the power of control, and making her wait for it.

It was a few seconds before she was able to articulate words, and when she did, she was begging, pleading with her voice and urging with her hands. No sentences, but a frenzy of individual words which made clear what he had guessed--that he had successfully brought her to the edge of climax.

"What is it, my Love?" He could not keep the teasing note from his voice. "Only tell me what you want, and you shall have it...maybe."

It was a few seconds more before she was able to understand the meaning of his words. When she did, and realized that she must respond or die, she took a deep breath. "Fuck me, Will. Please! I need you and I can't wait any longer!"

Her words echoed through his body, and he felt his testicles contract. He could not deny her. He felt he might die himself if he did anything other than what she asked.

The fingers of four hands were clumsy on the fly of his jeans. It seemed like forever before he was able to struggle out of the stiff, wet garment with her help. Another flash illuminated them. Her eyes wide, knees apart, body arched urgently.

She gasped, and in the sudden darkness, he felt her fingers on his cock. He moaned, pressing against her hand--that touch he had imagined and longed for all these years--knowing he should pull back, that he couldn't last long if she continued doing that.

"Will, it's...I...I mean..." She paused, and when she started again, there was a definitely smile in her voice. "You're bigger than I expected."

He had never felt so intensely proud of his endowment. How wonderful to have that extra inch or two to please her with--to give her more than she had had before. "I promise not to hurt you, my Darling, my Own, my Heart, my Love..." The words kept coming out unbidden, all he could think about was the caress of those gentle fingers against his skin. He groaned. He was not going to be able to go as slowly as he would have liked after all.

Reluctantly, he pushed her hand away, then pressed her shoulders to the ground. Still murmuring meaningless nonsense, he raised himself over her, wiggling his hips to mover her thighs farther apart. All those years of dreaming suddenly overwhelmed him. It was really going to happen! The strength went out of his arms, and he lay full length up her, his face buried against her breasts, unbidden tears mingling with the rain and salt of her skin.

He could hear her heart again, and her own shuddering sigh which told him she was as moved as he by the moment. Her arms were around him, and she was gently urging his body against hers, murmuring pet names, shushing him and telling him it would be alright. He needed her. He needed this wonderful woman to be part of him. The urge to mate overwhelmed him in its most basic form--not for pleasure but for the need to join with another body and make a single being of two incomplete halves.

A primitive animal noise emerged from his throat, and he raised himself onto his elbows, pressing against her. She gasped as the head of his cock found her entrance. His higher self would have loved to prolong this moment indefinitely, but it was no match for millions of years of instinct and biological compulsion.

With a single trust, he buried himself inside her. The cry that tore from her throat was half pain--he was big, and it had been some time since her last encounter--and half pure satisfaction at being filled. He paused there, conflicted, wanting to leave reason behind and let nature take its course, but knowing this was a moment that would never come again, and would be over too quickly in any case. He was dimly aware of fingernails pressing into his back, but felt no pain.

A thought surfaced in his conscious mind. "Are you OK?" he managed. She nodded, incapable of speech, but when he moved his hips slightly she winced. In another flash of light he could see her eyes were streaming with tears and his conscious mind took control. "I've hurt you," he murmured, trying clumsily to wipe her cheeks. "I'm so sorry... I didn't think..."

"No," she croaked at last. "I just wanted to badly for you to be my first, and now I have nothing special to offer you. I'm sorry." Her fingernails still dug into his back, and when he moved slightly again, they dug deeper and she gasped. It was strange to him to feel that he did not wish to hurt her, yet enjoyed it a little at the same time.

"My Angeline. My Angel. I am your first, and you are mine. What has there been before that could ever compare to this moment? Nothing." He continues to smooth the hot drops from her cheeks, kissing her softly and murmuring reassurances in her ear.

He moved again in question and she answered in kind, raising her knees to accept him more fully inside her. Slowly, he began to move. At first you used short, gentle strokes. He could tell the pain was receding as she began to respond more eagerly, her hands sliding along his back to squeeze his buttocks. She pressed him into her fully, and he held still as she squirmed against him, teacher her body how it felt to be filled completely.

But at last, he could hold still no longer. He moved again, this time taking longer strokes, being a little more rough. She didn't seem to mind. She arched her back, and met each thrust with one of her own. Their bodies slid over one another, slick with rain and sweat. The storm seemed to be taking its cues from them, and lightning flashed closer at hand. The thunder seemed almost constant. She strained against him, and he was nearly crushing her into the earth, each trying to meld with the other completely.

From the sounds she made, especially those wonderful little, sharp cries, he could tell it would take little to push her over the edge. With an effort, he pulled himself free of the warm confines of her body, then he ran the length of his hard, wet cock against her clit. He was rewarded with more sharp cries, including his own name and a few pleading words, and decided to try it again. Her begging took on a higher pitch, and he knew she was as close as she had been when his tongue had been buried inside her.

"Tell me what to do," he whispered.

"I need...I need you inside me! Fuck me hard! You won't hurt me, please!" The urgency in her voice was beyond anything he had heard from her thus far. He once again pressed the head of his cock between the slick lips of her almost painfully swollen pussy. A continuous, high-pitched noise was escaping her throat.

He gave in to his primitive self, trusting hard and with abandon, taking his own pleasure now rather than serving hers. Two hard strokes later, she screamed, bucking against him as her nails raked his back. He could feel the muscles deep in her pussy constrict around him. He didn't think he'd ever been so hard, or felt such a pleasurable sensation before.

Another two strokes and his own body convulsed. He was pressing into her as deeply as he could, willing them to merge, as his cum poured out, filling her to overflowing. There was a flash of bright light, and a sound that he thought might be his brain exploding with pure sensation. He joyfully gave her half a dozen more rough strokes as they continued to jerk and shudder together.

The sensation ebbed and they came to themselves, lying spent and half senseless on the wet grass, his body collapsed across hers, and the mingles sweat and rain glistening in the light of...what?

Dimly, he became aware of a source of light, somewhere off to his left. After a few seconds, he found the energy to turn his head, and saw that a tree ten yards away was in flames. "Oh, good," he muttered. "I guess it wasn't my brain exploding after all."

Her hand came to rest on his head, stroking the damp hair back from his temples. "What's that, Sweetie?" she asked. She slowly opened her own eyes and saw for herself. Her eyes closed again.

Neither wanted to say what they were both thinking, but at last he sighed. "We'd better move before the fire department gets here." He raised himself up on his arms. He felt shaky all over, like he had no further energy to expend, but he thought he might be able to stand. He pulled free of her body with some regret. Their first time was over, but he would carry the memory of it for the rest of his life.

They half dressed, and stumbled back towards the house. As they reached the door, they heard sirens in the distance. Daylight was still a couple hours away, but the storm was receding quickly, and a tinge of light showed along the easter horizon. They discarded their clothes again, spent a few happy, sleepy kisses under a warm shower, helped one another towel dry, then stumbled to Will's bedroom.

They made love once more, slowly and lazily, as light began to spread across the sky. Then they slept, as the last echoes of thunder faded from the sky.


The next afternoon, Angeline was the first to wake. She put on Will's long coat and buttoned it up, then sneaked downstairs and out the door. Once in the park, she found the spot quickly. The blackened crown of the tree was unmistakable. There was a patch where the grass was flattened, but if you didn't know to look for you, you'd never have noticed. She picked up a charred twig and smiled as she put it in her pocket.

A pity they'd never be able to tell the grandkids about the fireworks on their first 4th of July together...