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From: Brother_Cadfael@earthcorp.com (Brother Cadfael)
Subject: 'Beneath the Bridge'{Brother Cadfael}[MF]
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----------------------------------------------------------------------
Copyright 1997. Distribute freely, but change nothing.
----------------------------------------------------------------------
Brother_Cadfael@earthcorp.com
Synopsis: Two lovers, one married, rendezvous beneath a bridge.
| AUTHOR'S NOTE: This is another recount of my relationship with the |
| same woman that I wrote of in 'Alyssa' and 'Heart'. These pieces |
| are not embellished, but the names have been respectfully altered. |
| |
| -- Brother_Cadfael@earthcorp.com |
-[ Beneath The Bridge ]-
Alyssa was waiting for me when I came to the door. She invited me in,
and I cautiously accepted. Her husband sat in the corner of the
apartment, watching television. I waved to him and he grunted a
'hello'.
Alyssa grabbed her purse and a coat. "Terrill and I are probably
going to stop for dinner after the movie, hon," She said as we left.
We made our way down the steps and into her car. She knew the area
better than I did.
The drive to the theater was odd. For several months, we had been
together, as her husband entered boot-camp three thousand miles away.
It was less of a relationship and more of an affair, but we had
insisted on keeping a friendship. Her husband seemed to be all right
with it, even though he had known of our exploits. I was not thrilled
with her returning to his side after they threatened each other with
divorce, either. But I had an intense thirst for Alyssa that I could
not deny.
We talked very little as we drove. I kept watching her smiling face,
with its even lips and dark green eyes. She had cut her hair since we
last sneaked away from our lives and made love. It was shorter and
cropped just below the ears.
"I'm wearing the dress you picked out," she commented.
The first time we had gone shopping together, she told me that I was
the only straight man with any fashion sense. She insisted that I
choose an outfit for her. And I did. A long, covering autumn
patterned lightweight sleeveless dress that buttoned down the back.
She wore it elegantly.
She didn't seem to mind when I put my hand on her leg. I wanted to
touch more of her body, but I resisted and tried to remain satisfied
with simply being allowed to touch her at all. I didn't intend to
push things.
We went into the theater and purchased our tickets for 'Forget Paris'.
A semi flop of a love story starring Billy Crystal. Neither of us
seemed interested in it. We hadn't put much thought into the
selection of the film. I was interested only in seeing her again. I
would have even suffered 'Bridges Of Madison County' to spend this
evening in her presence.
The theater was dark, but not quite empty. We sat in the center row
on the right side of the theater. She reached for my hand during the
opening credits and I tried desperately to control my shaking through
the movie. I was very still, and staring at the screen although my
mind was elsewhere. Much of the movie, I have forgotten, if 'Forget
Paris' was even what we went to see...
But I remember when the night really began.
I gathered the brass to move on her. I wiggled my fingers so that she
would release my hand from hers. When she did, I smiled nervously
toward her and touched it to her thigh. I watched her face. She
didn't seem to object, though her attention appeared to remain on the
screen.
Moments passed and I drew my hand up farther, pulled the dress upward.
When I had the hem above her knees, I put my left arm around her
shoulders. To those who may have seen us from behind, we would appear
to be cuddling. However, my body was turned slightly to her seat and
I reached under her dress with my right hand. I touched the inside of
her thighs very softly. She was warm. She was so warm between those
soft legs.
I put a finger inside of her. Her eyes closed. She bit her lip.
I turned my own attention toward the movie screen. I was afraid that
someone was going to catch us and say something. Just the thought of
someone even knowing what we were doing was making me nervous enough,
whether or not they kept their mouths shut about it.
Alyssa's thighs moved. I felt them squeezing and relaxing around my
hand. I pushed my finger in farther and moved it in slow motions, in
and out. I relaxed in my chair, attempting to look casual and
absorbed in the movie.
This contact excited me, but inside I felt uneasy. I knew she didn't
care much for me. I was a sexual outlet that satisfied what she was
unable to find in her current relationship. She seemed to have no
more affection or love for me than a dildo. It hurt me, but I knew
that I was using her for the same, to a point.
She turned quickly, surprising me. She put her lips to my ear and
sucked the lobe in. It was a reaction I hadn't anticipated. I felt
the convulsions of an approaching orgasm in her. Was she silencing
any potential muffles by busying herself with my ear? Or was she
genuinely attacking me with a desire for closeness? I didn't know.
At that time, I started to stop caring.
It felt good.
She spoke and I felt the cool blow of her breath against my wet skin
as she whispered, "Let's get out of here."
I didn't say anything. I took her hand and we slipped from the
auditorium. The light outside made us squint through the parking lot
until we found her car.
Neither of us was sure where we would go. We just drove. As we left
the parking lot and entered the freeway, she unzipped my pants and
pulled my cock out. Her hand moved up and down the shaft. I
shuddered. I hadn't felt her skin for so many weeks...
"Somewhere secluded," I said.
She gave me a blank look. This was downtown Portland. There was no
'secluded'.
"Lloyd center parking-lot," I suggested. It was a stupid suggestion,
but I wasn't thinking clearly. When we exited the freeway, we made
two left turns and passed several lights.
At the final light, a large truck pulled aside us in the next lane.
An older woman looked into our vehicle from her own and I blushed.
Alyssa laughed. I'm certainly not an exhibitionist and I didn't like
the thought of someone else seeing me 'in action'. The traffic signal
saved me from extensive embarrassment by changing to green and letting
us drive on.
Lloyd Center is a large mall, about thirty years old, and it has a
very large parking structure, four or five stories high. We drove to
the top of it and parked.
Alyssa hadn't the time to turn the ignition off before I was upon her,
sliding her dress to her shoulders and pinning her back against the
driver's door. I eagerly took a nipple from her breast and sucked on
it. My body pressed hard into hers, grinding my penis into her
crotch. She wore no panties.
She breathed heavily and her hands curled in my hair, pulling me to
her breast. Her moans encouraged me. I knew this wasn't love
anymore, but it was enough. One of her hands reached under me as I
rounded my tongue on her nipple. She grabbed my cock as it dangled
between her legs. Her hand grabbed it firmly at the bottom of the
shaft. Her hands were a little cold, but felt wonderful as she worked
her fingers along the underside.
My eyes caught something just above her head. It was the glint of the
sun shining from the hood of a passing car. My heart sprung to my
throat as I saw the emblem on the driver's door as it drove down the
row we were parked in; it was mall security.
"Damn!" I exclaimed.
Alyssa sat up, quickly. We both fumbled to pull her dress down to her
waist and zip my pants up. We watched in the rear-view mirror and the
security vehicle passed.
We both breathed a sigh, but were a little unnerved. This certainly
wasn't the place to spend our time. But we had to find somewhere and
find it soon-- it would draw suspicion if we were gone too long. We
could probably claim that we had missed the first screening and that
after we finally watched the movie, we talked for a long time over
dinner. We easily had a few hours, but I would have rather spent that
time engaging myself with her angelic body than driving in circles.
I don't know how we came to it, but we drove through an industrial
area on the eastside of the Willamette River. We drove along
Hawthorne, seeing the Oregon Museum of Science and Industry in the
distance. As we approached the large tan, steel Hawthorne Bridge, we
segued and drove along a narrow street, until we came to the
waterfront. There were large parking lots filled nearly to capacity
alongside large cement buildings with aluminum ruffled roofs.
We came to a stop beneath the bridge, fifty feet from the river. A
dark brown fence was to our left and a hundred feet to our right was a
road that had been closed during intermittent construction. Both in
front and behind the car were large stone columns, supporting the
bridgework above. Alyssa cut the engine. We sat quietly for a
moment, acclimating ourselves to this new environment, and being sure
that we were safely away from the public.
The hauntingly musical sound of cars driving above us, tires rolling
along on the steel crisscrossed grates.
She slipped her shoes off. I reached for her dress and drew it up to
her shoulders again. She put her feet up onto the front seat and
reclined against the driver's side door. I maneuvered myself between
her legs and inserted my index finger into her pussy. She squirmed
delightfully. I pressed the middle finger of that same hand just
below. I put pressure on it and it slid into her asshole. She raised
her hips slightly and gasped. As she drew that breath of surprise, I
entered her fully with the finger. Each finger could feel the
movement of the other through the thin membrane separating her
regions.
I moved my fingers in and out of her. Her body followed my motions
and her eyes clenched together. Her head raised back against the
window and her breasts rose and fell with her breathing. When she
came, I put my mouth to her vagina and took her wetness into me, a
small pool of her juice in my mouth, bathing my tongue.
I raised quickly to her lips and kissed her. She pulled me to her
face and was eager for me to give her a taste of herself. I opened my
mouth and she flowed into herself. She let it slide down her tongue
and throat.
We kissed, passionately until her position became uncomfortable. I
sat up on my side of the car and she straddled me, one knee to a side.
Her body wrapped around my cock and allowed me to penetrate her. She
rested her arms on my shoulders and moved gently.
Our actions that evening were strange. It was obvious that there was
an absence of love. We cared for each other, but this was about sex.
It was about fucking. Satisfying a lustful need for one another. An
animalistic desire to consume the other for our own pleasure.
I wanted it to be more, but I was willing to enjoy what there was.
She raised her body from my hips and our strokes met as she lowered
herself and I pushed upward. We moved slowly and savored each
movement and sensation. I continued for a few minutes, but eventually
stopped. I allowed her to make all of the effort. I closed my eyes
and felt her rising and dropping; bringing my cock into and out of her
pussy. Her movement would frequently speed-up and then return to this
moderate pace.
"I love you," she lied in a soft breathless voice.
She began to whimper and her body shook. Every muscle in her tensed.
I felt the pricking of her teeth into my shoulder; muffling her moans.
Her pussy contracted around my cock. My breath caught momentarily as
my every nerve greedily absorbed the sensations.
She fell slack and put her head softly to my shoulder, staring out the
window. A bright moon was peeking from behind the skyline. It washed
our car with stark light. Alyssa's hands dropped from my shoulders to
my waist and dug themselves beneath the sweater I wore. Her hands
were warm against my skin. I shuddered. This touch left me feeling
as I hadn't expected. The sex had been so mechanical, though
wonderful. It had been two selfish people exploiting one another.
But her graceful hands against my skin and her body resting against me
returned memories of our first weeks together. Memories of a time
when we touched because of the electricity one gave the other.
Because of the love we wanted to express. It was difficult to
differentiate these emotions and the actions. How to avoid reading so
much into this?
I finally put these agonizing thoughts out of my mind. I began
rocking my hips again, pushing myself into her. She breathed heavily
again and rolled her head back; eyes to the ceiling. My strokes were
slow and penetrating. My hands pulled on her shoulders, bringing her
downward each time I entered her. Her fingernails dug into my back
and she too started to move her hips with mine. We joined tightly
with each stroke. Our pace quickened and she was to orgasm again,
squeezing tightly around my cock with her pussy around my body with
her arms. Nails drawing sharp red lines across my back.
Without burying her head or sinking her teeth into my shoulder, she
threw her head back again and screamed. The contractions of her pussy
encouraged my cock to give and I came. Every cell within me seemed to
divide. I was warm. My skin burned. My heart raced. My breath was
rushed.
Alyssa leaned into me and whispered, "I can feel your come inside of
me."
I shivered. Her voice was thick and ran like honey into my ears. She
pulled herself from my cock and slid down my body. Her knees came to
rest on the floor of the car and her hands took my thighs.
Fascinated, I watched.
Her tongue brushed against my shaft. She looked to me with a drop of
come on the flat of her tongue. She swallowed. Inside, I shook. She
had always enjoyed oral sex. She claimed it was her way of
'worshipping the penis', just before taking the charcoal pencils from
her art desk and drawing mine. Until now, I'd always had a sense of
guilt for enjoying so much her mouth's attentions. Whether or not she
enjoyed it, I felt awkward.
But this was just sex. It didn't matter. Just sex. Fucking. She
had said so.
She brushed her tongue across my shaft again. Her eyes looked for
mine and locked together. Her lips formed around the tip of my cock.
I felt the muscles in her throat as she swallowed. She had explained
before that she did so to prepare herself. She bragged of her talent.
She swallowed again and moved quickly from the tip to the base of my
cock, sucking me into her completely before her throat could contract.
I moaned and reached to touch the side of her face. My fingers drew
a lazy path down to her neck. Her eyes broke from mine and closed
them. She swallowed several times as I lie within her. It was a
sensation that could be compared to no other sexual act.
Slowly, she pulled from me. Still hard, I dropped against her chin.
My cock was wet, but clean. I smiled, stupidly. She smiled,
fiendishly. She cocked her head and rested it, cheek down, on my
thigh. Her tongue flicked playfully at my cock as it bounced against
her lips. Our hands touched and held.
"I'm sorry things didn't work out," she said frankly.
"Maybe they did," I replied.
I looked out the window again. When I found the strength to look at
her again, she had fallen asleep. I turned the keys in the ignition
and turned the heater up. I fell asleep with her.
When we awoke, we looked quickly and worriedly at the clock on the
dashboard. It was 8:30pm and we knew it would soon be time to go
home. Neither of us really wanted to, but being caught was something
we could not afford. I slipped my pants up and zipped them while she
buttoned her dress and tied her shoes. We kissed and she started the
car.
With little time, we changed our minds about a fancy dinner and
settled for Taco Bell. We spent most of the time making small talk.
Catching up on friends. Talking about work. We avoided speaking
about our broken relationship and her husband. When she began to
speak about Cairalin, a friend of mine who had become a lover of hers,
I suggested we leave before it got too late.
Conversation died completely as we neared her apartment. She knocked
on the door and her husband answered.
"We're just stopping by on our way to drop him off at his place," she
said, "I should be back in
an hour."
"Mind if I go along?" He asked.
Alyssa looked nervously at me. I shrugged.
The ride back to my place was uncomfortable, if nothing else. He sat
in the back seat, a foot from where she and I had been naked together
all evening. Conversation was awkward, but it kept us from the
frightening and nerve-wracking silence.
It seemed an eternity to get home, but when we did, I jumped from the
car and said, "I'll call you, Alyssa."
She nodded and discreetly blew me a kiss.
Her husband waved and told me to take it easy.
'I did all night', I thought to myself, 'and I always do.'
-fin-
--
Brother_Cadfael@earthcorp.com
http://home.fia.net/~cadfael/
RingMaster of 'Authors of Erotica'
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